“There you are,” Aub retorted. He thrust out his bearded chin in an attitude of proud defiance. “I’ve got one convert already. I’m telling you—it’ll work.”
“Very well,” Zimmermann raised a hand to quell the issue, “I have no wish for us to fall out so soon. We shall no doubt find out in good time.” His eyes were nevertheless still twinkling with amused disbelief. “In the meantime, however, I insist upon getting you all another drink.”
Epilogue
Bornos Karenski settled back into his seat and closed his eyes while he pictured the life awaiting him and his family in what was to become their new home. There was so much land there and so few inhabitants that they grew and ate fresh food—grown in the soil itself. And they reared stocks of animals that they allowed to roam free . . . all over the sun-drenched meadows of open hills that tumbled down under their necklaces of silver streams all the way from the mountains. And what mountains! And the sizes of the trees in those forests!
He’d seen it all in the holomoviegrams that the immigration agency had shown them. And so keen was the government there to attract new immigrants that they had not only paid half the fare for the whole family, they had subsidized his purchase of the land to the tune of 70 percent and granted him a twenty-year, interest-free loan to cover the building of his new home and the provision of machinery and other equipment. His savings had bought him over two thousand acres with plenty set aside for contingencies. There would be no more claustrophobia in computerized, plasticized, conglomerized antiseptic cities now . . . no more rounds of garish parties designed as the last vain attempt to relieve the boredom of garish people . . . no more of the mass hysteria of screaming people packed in by the thousands into sports stadiums . . . no more drug-assisted going to sleep, drug-assisted waking up again, and drug-assisted everything else that went on in between.
Bornos Karenski was going to go back to living the life of health, honest hard work, and contentment that had once been the right of every man to follow if he so chose—the life that he had always dreamed of.
A sudden voice filled the huge volume of passenger cabin 3 on C deck and brought him out of his reverie.
“Hello, ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain speaking again.
“Well, while you were having your lunch we’ve been gaining speed and covering quite a lot of distance. We’re well over a million miles from Earth now and have been under normal gravitic-drive acceleration all the time, which is why you will have been unaware of any sensation of movement.
“The power beam from Jupiter has been following us all the way and charging up our on-board boosters, and we’re now into a region of sufficiently low gravity gradient to switch over to Philipsz Drive. Transfer into the system of Sirius will only take a second, but the process can induce a mild feeling of giddiness and we strongly recommend passengers to take their seats. Would all cabin staff now remain seated at their stations, too, please.
“When we exit from Philipsz Drive, passengers will be able to see Sirius A on the forward viewscreens in all cabins. Its companion star, Sirius B, will be partially eclipsed from our point of re-entry into normal space, but will be visible above and slightly to the right of the primary when we darken down the screens a little.
“Well, we’re going to be pretty busy for a while now here in the control center, so I’m going to have to cut out. I hope you all have a pleasant trip. When I next speak to you, we will be eight-point-seven light-years from where we are now. Latest indications are that we should arrive at the planet Miranda on schedule, eight hours after re-entry.
“That’s all. Thank you.”
Signs illuminated in various parts of the cabin to announce:
TRANSFER TO PHILIPSZ DRIVE IMMINENT—
PLEASE BE SEATED
“Why do they call it such a funny name?” ten-year-old Tina Karenski asked from the seat next to him.