“Couldn’t the government just make a law ordering them to stay away?” Shilohin asked from across the room. “That sounds much simpler.”
Hunt laughed again, probably because the feeling of seeing home again was affecting him a little. “You haven’t met many Earth-people yet,” he said. “I don’t think they’d take very much notice. They’re not what you might call . . . easily disciplined.”
Shilohin was evidently surprised by the statement. “Really?” she said. “I had always imagined them to be precisely the opposite. I mean . . . I’ve watched some of the old newsreels from Earth-from the archives of your J5 computers, newsreels from the times when there were wars on Earth. Thousands of Earthmen all dressed the same walked backward and forward in straight lines while others shouted commands which they obeyed instantly. And the wars. . . when they were ordered to fight the wars and kill other Earthmen, they obeyed. Is that not being disciplined?”
“Yes . . . it is,” Hunt admitted uncomfortably, hoping he wasn’t about to be asked for an explanation; there wasn’t one.
But the Ganymean who had been worried about carnivores was persistent.
“You mean that if they are ordered to do something that is clearly irrational, they will do it unhesitatingly,” he said. “But if they are ordered to do something that is not only eminently sensible but also polite, they will take no notice?”
“Er . . . I guess that’s about it,” Hunt said weakly. “Very often anyway.”
Another Ganymean crewman half turned from the console that he was watching.
“They’re all mad,” he declared firmly. “I’ve always said so. It’s the biggest madhouse in the Galaxy.”
“They are also our hosts,” Garuth broke in sharply. “And they have saved our lives and offered us their home as our home. I will not have them spoken of in that manner.”
“Sorry, sir,” the crewman mumbled and returned his attention to his console.
“Please forgive the remark, Dr. Hunt,” Garuth said.
“Think nothing of it,” Hunt replied with a shrug. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. . . . It’s what keeps us sane, you see,”
he added for no particular reason, causing more bewildered looks to be exchanged between his alien companions.
At that moment ZORAC interrupted with an announcement.
“Ground Control is calling from Geneva. Shall I put the call through for Dr. Hunt again?”
Hunt walked over to the communications console from which he had acted as intermediary during previous dialogues. He perched himself up on the huge Ganymean chair and instructed ZORAC to connect him. The face of the controller at Geneva, by now familiar, appeared on the screen.
“Allo again, Dr. ‘unt. ‘Ow are zings going up zere?”
“Well, we’re still waiting,” Hunt told him. “What’s the news?”
“Ze Prime Meenister of Australia and ze Chinese Premier ‘ave now arrived at Geneva. Zey weel be at Ganyville eenside ze ‘all ower. I am now auzorized to clear you for touchdown een seexty meenutes from now. Okay?”
“We’re going down one hour from now,” Hunt announced to the expectant room. He looked at Garuth. “Do I have your approval to confirm that?”
“Please do,” Garuth replied.
Hunt turned back toward the screen. “Okay,” he informed the controller. “Sixty minutes from now. We’re coming down.”
Within minutes the news had flashed around the globe and the world’s excitement rose to fever pitch.
chapter eighteen
Hunt stood inside one of the central elevators of the Shapieron, gazing at the blank expanse of the door panel in front of him while the seemingly interminable length of the vessel sped by outside. Behind him, the rest of the UNSA contingent from Ganymede were packed tightly together, every one of them silently absorbed in his own thoughts as the moment of homecoming drew nearer. The Shapieron was now descending stern-first on its final approach. A number of Ganymeans were present in the elevator too, on their way to join the main body of Ganymeans that had been selected to make the first exit out onto the surface of Earth, most of whom were already assembled in the stern section of the ship.
The symbols appearing and disappearing on the face of the indicator panel by the door suddenly stopped changing and became stable. A second later the wide doors slid aside and the company began spilling out of the elevator to find themselves in a vast, circular space that extended all the way around the cylindrical wall of the ship’s inner core. Entrances to six huge airlocks were equally spaced around the outer walls and the floor in between was filled with a dense throng of Ganymeans, most of them strangely silent. Hunt spotted Garuth, surrounded by a small group of Ganymeans, standing near one of the airlocks. Shilohin was on one side of him and Monchar on the other; Jassilane was nearby. Like all of the Ganymeans present, they were staring up at an enormous display screen set high on the wall of the central core, dominating the floor from above the elevator doorways. Hunt made his way through the throng of giant figures toward where Garuth’s group was standing. He stopped next to Garuth and turned to look back at the screen.