“I’m impressed,” Hayer said, addressing everybody. “I said we need people like these two with us. You’re absolutely correct, Dr. Keene. Currently we’re waiting for indications to come in of just how much trouble. Our own observatories have the matter on top priority, obviously, and we’re getting the Kronian readings transmitted from Saturn. . . . And now, Professor Voler, you had a point to make.”
Voler sat up tersely, still looking ruffled. “Very well. As I said, in view of the possible seriousness of the situation, I’ll be perfectly blunt. If the first estimates I’ve been hearing are close, we could be talking about major disruption, conceivably comparable to all-out war. In times of war, one does not settle for half measures, gentlemen. Until we know more, we cannot exclude the possibility that it may prove necessary to evacuate key personnel from the surface for a period in order to ensure a smooth reintroduction of order and social controls after the worst of the disturbances have abated.” Voler raised a hand to point directly overhead. “In orbit right now over our heads is the most advanced and dependable means of affording such capability that we’re going to see. In my opinion, it would be the crassest irresponsibility not to take full advantage—for the nation’s benefit—of the unique opportunity that it represents.”
“In plain English, you mean keep the ship here as a lifeboat in case things get rough,” someone said.
“In war, you requisition whatever is needed,” Tyndam, the other astronomer, replied.
“I second it,” Queal informed the room. “Are we supposed to just sit here and let it go back to Saturn when we could end up needing every cubic foot of ship capacity we can get?” He made an appealing gesture that took in everyone. “We’re already looking into what we can mobilize from the lunar bases and remote stations. What’s the sense in talking about bringing that back while at the same time we’re letting go what’s already here?”
“So the first overt act of war is to be on our part?” the President queried. “We steal it or impound it by force—supposing we could find a way. That’s what you’re saying?”
“Not really,” one of the defense advisors pointed out. “The Osiris only came here with a complement of, what was it—twenty or something?”
“Twelve on the delegation and eight crew,” Keene confirmed.
“But it’s built to carry a hell of a lot more than that. We’d only be asking them to stay on and help their own kind in an emergency. Is that so unreasonable?”
“And what about the emigrants it was supposed to take back?” Novek asked. “Some of them have already started arriving in Guatemala. More are on the way. They’ve had places booked for months that they’ve given up homes, everything for. What do we do? Just throw them out and say sorry?”
Voler emitted a long sigh and extended his hands in a gesture of regret. “Oh, I admit, I admit . . . It’s a harsh decision. But sometimes harshness is forced.” He looked up. “I said I would be blunt. The emigrants are a mixed selection typical of the seven billion persons on this planet. Nothing exceptional or extraordinary. The space aboard that ship should be kept for individuals who are exceptional and extraordinary—the kind of individuals who will be needed if leadership and rebuilding on a large scale has to be undertaken.”
“What kind of individuals do you think go to Kronia?” Keene couldn’t help asking. Voler ignored him.
“I repeat, to let misplaced sentiments take priority at a time like this would be foolish and irresponsible. The knowledge that enabled that ship to be built originated on Earth. The wealth that went into founding the Kronian colony was created on Earth. The ship belongs to Earth.”
“How are you proposing we take it, then?” someone invited. “You heard what Landen Keene said. It could melt a battleship from a hundred miles away.”
Voler bunched his mouth for a moment, then replied, “We are already holding passports onto it. The Kronian delegation is still down here. We keep them here until the situation becomes clearer. Then, should it be necessary, we return them on the condition that the remaining places are filled with people of our choice. It’s as simple as that.”