“We saw a shot of it on the screen but it was nothing like this,” Vicki murmured, not taking her eyes of the scene. “And you’re right. That was a few hours back, and it’s grown even in that time.”
“How does this compare to when we were looking at the stars in Washington, Lan?” Sariena asked. She studied the sky as the Sun and Athena disappeared from view at the top of the window and the glass lightened again. “I don’t think we’ll be able to see Saturn this time, though—not from this side of Earth, anyway. You know, it’s strange. I still haven’t gotten used to seeing it looking so small.”
“Tell me something about life there,” Vicki said. “I’ve never quite followed it. You have all those talented people moving out. What is it they’re looking for? Do they find it?”
“People have always sought something bigger than themselves,” Sariena replied. “Something that will give their lives meaning that makes sense, that will still be there after they’re gone. Why else did medieval masons pass their skills down through sons to grandsons who would complete the cathedrals that they began?”
Keene turned his face away from the window. “Is that really true? I don’t know. It sounds too idealistic, somehow. . . . I thought ideas like that pretty much went out of style two hundred years ago.”
“True, for the most part,” Sariena agreed. “And look at the disaster that followed. The civilization that could have enlightened the world degenerated into conflicts of squabbling fanatics. Humanity should have become a vigorous, spacegoing culture by now, expanding across the Solar System and gathering itself for the move out to the stars. Instead, it has turned back within itself. We represent what could have been, and we’re considered misfits. But there are some from Earth who will never succumb to whatever the disease is. And so they come to us.”
“Maybe you’re in too much of a hurry,” Keene suggested. “Earth is tired. It’s played its part. Maybe the culture you’re talking about will have to grow from Kronia. But that won’t be for a while.”
“Maybe.”
There was a silence. Keene got the feeling that Sariena didn’t entirely agree but was not of a mind to press the subject just at the moment.
“So how does it work?” Vicki asked. “You all have this shared vision, and that somehow provides an alternative reward system to what we have? Is it something like that?”
Sariena’s brow creased. “I’m not sure I know how to explain it. I have no experience of your money systems, so it’s difficult to find the right terms. I don’t expect any overt reward for what I do. I do the things that need to be done.”
“But how do you know what’s needed?” Keene asked. He was curious himself. “Money’s only a common way of measuring obligations. What do you have instead? How do you know who owes what?”
“Owes? . . .” Sariena shook her head. “Owes to whom?”
“To each other, to society in general. . . .” Keene searched for an example. “Look, you told me you’re a planetary geologist. That involves a lot of study and ability, knowledge, hard work. Why do you do it?”
“Why? . . . It’s, simply . . . I told you. It’s what needs to be done.”
“But why?” Vicki pressed. “What’s in it for you? What do you get in return?”
Sariena looked at them uncertainly, as if hesitant to state the obvious. “In return, I am alive. I experience life. It was not I who designed and built this ship that we are talking in. Others did. Others made the clothes that I wear and produced the food that sustains me. And when we return to Kronia, the same will apply to everything there that keeps me alive: the habitats we live in, the machines that provide our needs. All those things exist because of the work and skills of thousands of people. And you ask me what I get in return?” Sariena shook her head again, this time with an expression of amazement. “You want me to measure how much I owe in return? The only answer can be, the best that I am capable of. That is my worth.”