But best of all to watch was the reaction of the Ganymean children. Born aboard the Shapieron during its epic voyage from Iscans, they had never seen a blue sky, a landscape or a mountain, never breathed natural air, and had never before conceived the notion of leaving their ship without requiring any kind of protec
tion. To them, the lifeless void between the stars was the only environment that existed.
At first, many of them shrank from coming out of the ship at all, fearful of consequences that had been instilled into them all their lives and which they accepted unquestioningly as fundamental truths. When at last a few of the more trusting and adventurous ones crept warily to the doors at the tops of the access ramps and peered outside, they froze in utter disbelief and confusion. From the things both their elders and ZORAC had told them, they had a vague idea of planets and worlds-places bigger than the Shapieron that you could live on instead of in, they gathered, though what this could possibly mean had never been clear. And then they had come to Ganymede; obviously that was a planet, they’d thought.
But now this! Hundreds of people outside the ship clad only in their shirtsleeves; how could that be possible? How could they breathe and why did they not explode with decompression? Space was supposed to be everywhere, but it wasn’t here; what had happened to it? How did the universe suddenly divide itself into two parts, half “up” and half “down”-words that could only mean anything inside a ship? Why was down all green; who could have made anything so large and why had they made it in strange shapes that stretched away as far as one could see? Why was up all blue and why weren’t there any stars? Where did all the light come from?
Eventually, with much coaxing, they ventured down the ramps and onto the ground. Nothing awful happened to them. Soon they became reassured and began to explore their new and wondrous surroundings. The concrete at the bottom of the ramps, the grass beyond, the wooden walls of the chalets-all were new and each held its own particular fascination. But the most astounding sight of all was that stretching away, seemingly forever, on the other side of the ship-more water than they had ever believed existed in the whole of the universe.
Before long they were romping and reveling in an ecstasy of freedom greater than anything they had ever known. The crowning glory came when the Swiss police launches started running joy rides for them, up along the shore, out into the middle of Lake Geneva, and back again. It soon became obvious that only the grownups and their hang-ups stood in the way of the question of
settling on Earth; the kids had made their minds up in no uncertain manner.
Two days after the landing, Hunt was enjoying a coffee break in the residents’ cafeteria at Ganyville when a low buzz from his Ganymean wrist unit signaled an incoming call. He touched a button to activate the unit and ZORAC’s voice promptly informed him: “The coordination office in the Bureau Block is trying to contact you. Are you accepting?”
“Okay.”
“Dr. Hunt?” The voice sounded young and, somehow, pretty.
“That’s me,” he acknowledged.
“Coordination office here. Sorry to trouble you but could you come over? We could use your help on something.”
“Not until you promise to marry me.” He was in that kind of mood. Maybe it was coming home after being away for so long.
“What? . . .” The voice rose in surprise and confusion. “I don’t. . . that is, I’m serious . .
“What makes you think I’m not?”
“You’re crazy. Now how about coming over? . . . on business.” At least, he thought, she recovered her balance nice and quickly.
“Who are you?” he asked lightly.
“I told you-the coordination office.”
“Not them-you.”
“Yvonne. . . why?”
“Well, I’ll make a deal. You need me to help you out. I need someone to show me around Geneva before I go back to the States. Interested?”
“That’s different,” the voice retorted, though not without a hint of a smile. “I’m doing a UN job. You’re conducting private enterprise. Now are you coming over?”