He broke into a trot, holding her wrist with one band and the gun with the other. “Joacbim’s hunch was right,” be said between his teeth. “Now we’ve got to get off this planetl”
CHAPTER XI
Star Pattern
No oNE could accuse the ships of bearing a particularly intellectual society; still, reading was one way to pass the long times of voyage. The Peregrine, like her sisters, had a fair-sized library. It was a long double-tiered room in the outer ring, near the waist of the ship and not far off the park, Trevelyan had spent a good deal of time there on the Journey from Nerthus.
He wandered in Dow. It wag q@et, almost deserted save for the dozing attendant and a couple of old men reading at a table. The walls were lined with shelves holding microbooks from civilized planets: references, philosophies, poetry, fletion, belles-lettres, an -incredible jackdaw’s nest of an@ thing and everything. But there were also large-sized folios, written by the natives of a hundred worlds or by the Nomads themselves. It was the compendious history of the ships which be took down and opened.
It began wi’ h the memoirs of Tborkild Erling, first captain of the Nomads. The bare facts were known to every educated person in the Union by now: how the first Traveler, an emigrant ship in the early days of interstellar voyaging, blundered into a trepidation vortex-then a totally unsuspected phenomenon, and even now little understood -and was thrown some two thousand lightyears off her course. The hyperdrive engines of that day bad needed a good ten years simply to get back into regions where the constellations looked halfway familiar; and after that, the vessel had ranged about for another decade, hopelessly searching. They found an untenanted E-planet, Harbor, and built their colony, and most of them were glad to forget that
wild hunt through the deeps of forever. But a few couldn’t.; so in the end, they took the Traveler and went out once
more.
That much was history. Now, reading Thorkild’s words, Trevelyan caught something of the glamour which had been in those first years. But dreams change. By the very fact of realization, an ideal ceases to be such. There was a note of disappointment in Thorkild’s later writings; his new society was evolving into something other than what he had imagined. That’s humanity again, never really able to follow out the logic of its own wishes.
Trevelyan paged rapidlv through the volume, looking for hints on the evolution of Nomad economy. A spaceship can be made a closed ecology, and the Nomad vessels did maintain their own food plants-hydroponics, yeast-bacteria synthesis of protein foods and vitamins-as well as doing a lot of their own repair, maintenance, and construction worl,. Cut adrift, they could last indefinitely. But it was easier and more rewarding to exploit the planets, as traders
and entrepreneurs.
It was not all trade-sometimes they might work a mine or other industry for a while; and robbery, though frowned on, was not unknown. From whatever they gained, they took what was needed and used the rest for barter or sale.
Such enterprises were always carried out by individuals or groups of individuals, once the captain had made whatever preliminary arrangements were necessary. A small tax was enough to support the various public facilities and undertakings.
The society was democratic, though only adult men had the franchise. Matters of general Nomad policy were settled at rendezvous, the Captains’ Council being empowered to make certain decisions while others were referred to the crews. Within a ship, the assembled men discussed and voted on whatever issues the captain couldn’t handle as routine, and all the Nomads seemed quite passionately political-n-tinded. The captain had broad powers and, if
he used it right, an even broader influence-the fact that Joachim could take the Peregrin— scouting this way, on Ws own decision, spoke for itself. If-
Trevelyan glanced up with a sudden consciousness and felt his pulse quicken. Nicki had just come in.
She had a book under one arm, which she replaced on its shelf. Turning, she smiled at him. “Where’ve you been the last few days? I’ve hardly seen you.”
“Around,” he said vaguely. “Anything new?”