Unless Kyle Umber banishes me, he realized. I’ve got to prevent that. I’ve got to convince Kyle that I can still work for him. That I’ll follow his rules.
Then it struck him. I’ll become a penitent! I’ll beg him for my life. I’ll swear to be a good, upstanding, rules-following citizen.
I’ll throw my life at his feet. He won’t be able to cast me into the outer darkness. That would be the same as killing me. He’s too softhearted for that.
I hope, Waxman said to himself. And he noticed that perspiration was beading his forehead.
Raven sat silently in Reverend Umber’s office as Tómas, Zworkyn, Abbott and the newcomer from Earth discussed the consequences of Tómas’s discovery.
In her mind she understood what the men were saying. But it didn’t seem real to her. Alien invaders sterilized Uranus two million years ago? They caused the ice age on Earth to prevent the birth of the human race?
It was too fantastic, too outlandish to be believed. Where are these murderous aliens now? she wanted to ask. Do you have any shred of evidence that they really exist?
But she kept silent. She noticed that Reverend Umber had also lapsed into silence as the scientists tossed ideas and discoveries at one another.
It’s too crazy to be believed, a voice in her mind insisted. Destructive aliens swooping through the solar system two million years ago, killing and destroying?
Then she looked again at Tómas’s face. He believes this with all his heart, she realized. He’s positive that he is right, that he’s discovered an enormous threat to the human race. A threat to all the life on all the worlds in the solar system.
What if he’s right?
DECISIONS
Kyle Umber felt weary. Millard and the others had left his office hours earlier, still debating Gomez’s idea that the solar system had been invaded some two million years ago. Now Umber sat alone at his ornate desk, pondering, worrying.
Gomez’s discovery is just too big to be believable, he told himself. Alien invaders sterilizing the planet Uranus. Causing an ice age on Earth to prevent the birth of the human race. Fantastic! Unbelievable!
Yet, deep within him, he feared that Gomez might be right. Abbott believes it and he’s an astronomer. Millard seems to believe, although he says he wants to see more evidence.
If it is right, it means that somewhere out there among the vast clouds of stars there is an alien race that is our implacable enemy.
A superhuman force of evil. The devil incarnate. All the superstitious terrors of the human race made real, living, waiting to strike us again. Maybe they’re already on their way here, coming to smash us again!
Despite himself, he shuddered. All the ancient fears of the human race come alive. It was too much to be believed. Too much not to believe.
His desk phone buzzed. Almost happy to have his morbid train of thought interrupted, Umber glanced at the screen.
Evan Waxman was calling.
“…and he wants me to be his assistant,” Raven was saying, smiling with excitement, “to work with him and learn how to help him run the whole community.”
Tómas Gomez grinned at her. “You’re coming up in the world.”
The two of them were sitting across from one another at the tiny fold-out table in Raven’s kitchen. They had hardly touched the dinner plates set before them. They were both too excited to eat.
Her happy grin fading just a little, Raven continued, “I don’t know if I can do it, though. It’s an awful lot to learn and—”
“You can do it,” Tómas assured her. “You’re a smart woman, Raven. You can do anything you set your mind to.”
She glowed. “Do you really think so?”
“I’m positive.”
“I’ll have to find somebody to run the boutique,” she mused. “It’s doing too well to shut it down now.”
Tómas nodded and leaned across the table toward her. “You’re going to be an important person, Raven. Reverend Umber’s personal assistant.”
“And you, Tómas,” she said. “You’ll probably have to go back to Earth, at least for a while.”
“No,” he said firmly. “I’ll stay here. If anybody on Earth wants to talk to me, he’ll do it by video conferencing. Or they can come out here.”
“But suppose—”
Reaching out to clasp her hand, Tómas whispered, “It’s taken me all my life to find you. I’m not going to be separated from you. Ever. Not by anyone or anything.”
Raven put her free hand atop his.
Then Tómas straightened and said, “We should talk to Reverend Umber about marrying us.”
Raven gulped with surprise, but agreed, “I suppose we should.”
This is going to be uncomfortable, Reverend Umber said to himself. But it’s got to be done.
He was sitting alone amid the greenery and fancy furniture of his ornate office, frowning at the lavish ostentatiousness of it all. It’s too much, he told himself. You’re a man of God, not some oriental potentate.
His desktop phone buzzed.
Startled out of his self-incrimination, Umber said, “Phone answer.”
The phone’s screen lit up and announced, “Evan Waxman is here, Reverend.”
Umber drew in a deep reluctant breath, but answered, “Send him in, please.”
His office door slid open and Waxman stepped in, slowly, almost hesitantly. His eyes cast downward, he walked to Umber’s desk and stopped in front of it, hands folded in front of him, still staring at the floor.
Umber got to his feet, yet Waxman did not look up at him.
“Have a seat, Evan,” Umber said softly, gently, as he sat down again in his capacious desk chair.
Waxman sat, still avoiding Umber’s eyes.
“I suppose this isn’t going to be easy for either one of us,” Umber said.
“No,” Waxman replied, in a near whisper. “I suppose it’s not.”
WAXMAN AND UMBER
Sitting tensely in his desk chair, Umber said, “The Chemlab Building is a total wreck.”
Waxman nodded mutely.
“I’ve decided to let it stay that way, at least for the time being,” Umber went on. “To serve as a reminder for all of us.”
“But there was nothing illegal about its operation,” Waxman protested, in a soft, almost whining voice.
“Legalities aside, it was immoral.”
“I suppose so,” Waxman admitted.
A cold silence descended upon the two men.
At last Umber stated, “Tomorrow I’m going to ask the Interplanetary Council’s executive director to admit Haven as a Council member.”
Waxman nodded.
“Once we are admitted we’ll have to obey the laws that all the other member worlds obey. Including the law prohibiting the manufacture and sale of narcotics.”
Waxman’s expression shifted slightly. “Kyle, you know that I decided to manufacture and sell narcotics as a means of supporting this habitat.”
“It was an unacceptable means.”
“But you took no steps to stop it.”
Pointing to the scar running down his cheek, Umber said, “Until last week.”
“Yes. Until last week. At the cost of thirty-eight lives.”
Umber’s sudden intake of breath told Waxman he had hit home.
“No one blames you for that,” Waxman quickly added, meaning just the opposite.
“I feel the guilt,” the minister said, his voice low, miserable.
“So do I,” said Waxman, in an equally low voice.
Reverend Umber studied Waxman’s downcast face. It was a picture of defeat, humiliation.