“And they haven’t been,” Dr. Di Asturien said. “How many women have reported since the crash?”
“Nine;” said Nurse Raimondi grimly. “Nine. This means that two-thirds of the women involved have had their biological cycles disrupted on this planet–either by the change in gravity, or by some hormone disruption. And since the standard contraceptive we use is entirely keyed to the internal cycle, we have no way of telling whether it’s effective or not.”
MacAran didn’t need to be told how serious this was. A wave of pregnancies could indeed be emotionally disruptive. Infants–or even young children–could not endure interstellar FTL drive; and since the universal acceptance of reliable contraceptives, and the population laws on overcrowded Earth, a wave of feeling had made abortion completely unthinkable. Unwanted children were simply never conceived. But would there be any alternative here?
Dr. Di Asturien said, “Of course, on new planets women are often sterile for a few months, largely because of the changes in air and gravity. But we can’t count on it”
MacAran was thinking; if Camilla is pregnant, will she hate me?
The thought that a child of theirs might have to be destroyed was frightening. Ewen asked soberly, “What are we going to do, Doctor? We can’t demand that two hundred adult men and women take a vow of chastity!”
“Obviously not. That would be worse for mental health than the other dangers,” Di Asturien said, “but we must warn everyone that we’re no longer sure about the effectiveness of our contraceptive program.”
“I can see that. And as soon as possible.”
Di Asturien said, “The Captain has called a mass meeting tonight–crew and colonists. Maybe I can announce it there.” He made a wry face. “I’m not looking forward to it. It’s going to be an awfully damned unpopular announcement. As if we didn’t have enough troubles already!”
The mass meeting was held in the hospital tent, the only place big enough to hold the crew and passengers all at once. It had begun to cloud over by midafternoon and when the meeting was called, a thin fine cold rain was falling and distant lightning could be seen over the peaks of the hills. The members of the exploring party, sat together at the front, in case they were called on for a report, but Camilla was not among them. She came in with Captain Leicester and the rest of the crew officers, and MacAran noticed that they had all put on formal uniform. Somehow that struck him as a bad sign. Why should they try to emphasize their solidarity and authority that way?
The electricians on the crew had put up a rostrum and rigged an elementary public address system, so that the Captain’s voice, low and rather hoarse, could be heard throughout the big room.
“I have asked you all to come here tonight,” he said, “instead of reporting only to your leaders, because in spite of every precaution, in a group this size rumors can get started, and can also get out of hand. First, I will give you what good news there is to give. To the best of our knowledge and belief, the air and water on this planet will support life indefinitely without damage to health, and the soil will probably grow Earth crops to supplement our food supply during the period of time while we are forced to remain here. Now I must give you the news which is not so good. The damage to the ship’s drive units and computers is far more extensive than originally believed, and there is no possibility of immediate or rapid repairs. Although eventually it may be possible to become spaceborne, with our current personnel and materials, we cannot make repairs at all.”
He paused, and a stir of voices, appalled, apprehensive, rose in the room. Captain Leicester raised his hand.
“I am not saying that we should lose hope,” he said. “But in our current state we cannot make repairs. To get this ship off the surface of the planet is going to demand extensive changes in our present setup and will be a very long-range project demanding the total co-operation of every man and woman in this room.”