Part 3 (1/2)
”Certainly! It's obvious, isn't it? Our country is maintaining the peace of the Solar System--once we drop the reins, all h.e.l.l will run away from us.”
”What's wrong with setting up a world-wide federation of countries? Most other nations are willing.”
”But that--it's not _practical_!”
”How do you know? It's never been tried.”
”Anyway, we can't decide policy. That's just not for us.”
”The United States is a democratic country--remember?”
”But--” Lancaster looked away. For a moment he stood unspeaking, and she watched him with grave eyes and said nothing. Then, not really knowing why he did it, he lifted a defiant head. ”All right! We'll go ahead--and if Berg sends us all to camp, don't blame me.”
”He won't.” She laughed and clapped his shoulder. ”You know, Allen, there are times when I think you're human after all.”
”Thanks,” he grinned wryly. ”How about--uh--how about having a--a b-beer with me now? To celebrate.”
”Why, sure.”
They went down to the shop. A cooler of beer was there, its contents being reckoned as among the essential supplies brought from Earth by Jessup. Lancaster uncapped two bottles, and he and Karen sat down on a bench, swinging their legs and looking over the silent, waiting machines. Most of the station personnel were off duty now, in the arbitrary ”night.”
He sighed at last. ”I like it here.”
”I'm glad you do, Allen.”
”It's a funny place, but I like it. The station and all its wacky inhabitants. They're heterodox as the very devil and would have trouble getting a dog catcher's job back home, but they're all refres.h.i.+ng.”
Lancaster snapped his fingers. ”Say, that's it! That's why you're all out here. The government needs your talents, and you aren't quite trusted, so you're put here out of range of spies. Right?”
”Do you have to see a rebel with notebook in hand under every bed?” she asked with a hint of weariness. ”The First Amendment hasn't been repealed yet, they say. Theoretically we're all ent.i.tled to our own opinions.”
”Okay, okay, I won't argue politics. Tell me about some of the people here, will you? They're an odd bunch.”
”I can't tell you much, Allen. That's where Security does apply.
Isaacson is a Martian colonist, you've probably guessed that already.
Jessup lost his hand in a--a fight with some enemies once. The Dufreres had a son who was killed in the Moroccan incident.” Lancaster remembered that that affair had involved American power used to crush a French spy ring centered in North Africa. Sovereignty had been brushed aside. But d.a.m.n it, you had to preserve the status quo, for your own survival if nothing else. ”Hw.a.n.g had to go into exile when the Chinese government changed hands a few years back. I--”
”Yes?” he asked when her voice faded out.
”Oh, I might as well tell you. My husband and I lived in America after our marriage. He was a good biotechnician and had a job with one of the big pharmaceutical companies. Only he--went to camp. Later he died or was shot, I don't know which.” Her words were flat.
”That's a shame,” he said inadequately.
”The funny part of it is, he wasn't engaged in treason at all. He was quite satisfied with things as they were--oh, he talked a little, but so does everybody. I imagine some rival or enemy put the finger on him.”
”Those things happen,” said Lancaster. ”It's too bad, but they happen.”
”They're bound to occur in a police state,” she said. ”Sorry. We weren't going to argue politics, were we?”
”I never said the world was perfect, Karen. Far from it. Only what alternative have we got? Any change is likely to be so dangerous that--well, man can't afford mistakes.”