CRADLE OF SATURN BY JAMES P. HOGAN

“I think he’s with General Ullman,” one of the technicians said.

The Launch Supervisor came in through the doorway. All the heads turned, waiting. “It looks as if we might be able to get two Boxcars off if this mess ever eases up,” he announced. “Forget the rest. Nothing else is getting off the ground. We’ve got forty-eight places in each one. There are thirteen Kronians. The Kronians have nominated six individuals for places on the Osiris. We have two children separated from their families, who get to go. There are eight more children with mothers only—six mothers—and they get to go. We have one expectant mother; she gets to go. That means there’s room for sixty more, assuming the Osiris confirms that it can take them. We think it’s likely that it will, since not much is going to be going up from Guatemala—but we haven’t made contact yet. In the meantime, we’re taking names now in the office outside of all those who want to be on the list. The places will be decided by drawing lots. Immediate family groups—that’s parents with children—get one chance, but if it comes up they all go. I’ve got my name down. Anyone else who wants to leave the planet, step along. It’s open to all. General Ullman and his family are there, just the same as the rest. Nobody’s playing God over this. For once, that job’s being left where it belongs.”

36

Keene stood with Sariena on one side of a concrete-walled space full of motor housings, cables, huge pipes, and color coded valves in the lower levels of the complex serving the Boxcar launch bays. People were camped around and under the machinery, and children were having fun climbing about on the pipes. Those who could, kept themselves busy preparing soup, sandwiches, and hamburgers, or bringing pieces of furniture or other comforts from the offices and labs higher up; others played chess or cards, read, or tried to entertain the children. An area had been set aside for treating the growing number of casualties, from people venturing outside and being hit by flying debris to lacerations from imploding windows.

Not being as big as most of the Kronians, Sariena had managed to find some Air Force fatigues to change into from the clothes she’d been wearing since the abduction in Washington, and so looked a little fresher, if obviously tired. She had told Keene their side of the story, not that there was a lot to it. They had been collected from the Engleton by what everyone assumed to be the official bus to take them to Andrews AFB, but the escorts turned out to be captors who took them to another airfield somewhere. From there they flew several hours to a landing strip in a desert location, where the plane was covered under an awning until departing an hour or so before its arrival at Vandenberg. Their escorts were all military, following instructions, and couldn’t or wouldn’t disclose anything beyond what the Kronians could see for themselves. The Kronians had been held in a couple of trailers under guard. All in all they had been treated well and courteously, if firmly.

“Why not try and get some rest?” Keene said. “Even when they get the repairs finished, nobody’s going anywhere until the weather lets up.”

“Oh, I’ll try and hold out until we get back to the ship. Then I’ll sleep for a week. I’m sure all of us will.” Sariena’s eyes flickered over him briefly. “At least we were just sitting around most of yesterday and last night, waiting for something to happen. You should be just about ready to collapse when we get up there.”

Keene grunted and shuffled restlessly, looking away. He knew that Sariena had made the remark deliberately to sound out the discontentment that she sensed in him. Keene wasn’t sure himself why he felt it.

Following the example of their commanders, none of the Marine contingent or the Special Forces rescue team had put themselves on the list for the draw. Keene had been one of the six named by the Kronians for guaranteed places, but he had declined to be privileged and opted to go into the draw along with everyone else. Nevertheless, his name had come up anyway. It didn’t sit well with him. The other five had been Charlie Hu, who had accepted; Cavan and Alicia, who had accepted only because Cavan had insisted on Alicia’s accepting, and she had refused flatly to do so without him—but he didn’t seem happy with it; the engineer who had foregone a place on the last evacuation plane in order to supervise the hydraulics repairs; and Colby Greene, who, like Keene, had opted for the draw instead but been unlucky. Gallian admitted that perhaps it had been a mistake to offer any nominated places, but it was done now and couldn’t be changed.

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