“But it doesn’t answer Lum’s question,” said Elissa. She was tracing patterns in water droplets on the table top, but now and again her eyes did a quick survey of the room to see if anyone was watching them.

“Not yet,” agreed Peron. “But give me a minute, and let me tell you the way my father would see it. First, Wilmer. Suppose he is a government plant. Then he is observing us for a definite reason. My father would say, there’s no point in his presence if it has no effect on the Planetfest trial results. So that suggests the results are being tampered with — so that the right people win. But I just don’t believe that. Too many people are involved in the evaluation and judging. It has to be a little more subtle. Somebody wants to know how the winners will behave when faced with certain facts. And that’s consistent with Kallen’s other observation: something that we haven’t been told about yet happens to Planetfest winners. Maybe not to all of them, but at least to some of them.” The other three were silent for a long time. They were looking at Peron expectantly. He finally realized that they were simply waiting. He remained silent himself, until at last Lum glanced at his watch.

“Five minutes more, then we have to go.” His voice was respectful. “Carry on, Maestro, keep going and tell us the rest. I’m sure you’re right so far. I’m beginning to feel less and less entitled to that number one rating.” Peron looked intently at each of the others. Elissa’s eyes were downcast, staring thoughtfully at the table. Kallen and Lum were both visibly excited. “First of all,” Peron said. “If we know of one government plant in the group, there could be others. So we don’t say anything to anyone, unless we’re absolutely sure of the other contestant. That means people we knew before, or people we’ve worked with on trials who couldn’t be fake competitors. What about Sy?”

Kallen shook his head. “He is a genuine competitor,” he whispered. “And an amazing one. I spent time with him during some of the trials. He is much more intelligent and resourceful than any of us, but because of that withered arm he sees the world through a distorting mirror. We should tell him — though it will confirm all his worst suspicions about people.”

It was Kallen’s longest speech to the group. He seemed to realize that, and smiled at Elissa in an embarrassed way.

“All right, Sy is in,” said Lum. “What else, Peron?”

It was disconcerting to be treated as an authority. Peron chewed at a fingernail, and thought hard.

“We don’t have to do anything at all,” he said at last. “Except keep our eyes open and our mouths shut. You see, it’s obvious from what Kallen told you that at some point we will learn the mystery of the off-planet trials. The earlier winners must have been told. So we’ll be told, too, and we’ll find out what happens to the winners after the off-planet contest is over. There’s no suggestion that anything bad happens to us — just that something is going on that the government doesn’t want the public to know. I tend to agree with my father, that in itself is a bad thing. But until we know what it is, we can’t disagree with it. So it’s simple: for the moment we try to define how many of our group of twenty-five we can really trust. And from now on we question everything that we’re told.”

“You think we should even discuss this with others?” Lum stood up. “My preference is to tell no one else at all.”

“We need all the eyes and ears we can find,” said Peron. “We’ll be careful.” They moved as a group to the exit, not speaking again until they were outside the food hall and heading for the Planetfest communication headquarters. Lum and Kallen walked on ahead, leaving Peron and Elissa to stroll side by side through the chilly autumn air. Little Moon had already risen, and off near the horizon the red fire of Cassby threw long, ocher shadows across the deepening twilight.

Elissa stopped and looked up at the sky. It was clear, and the stars were slowly appearing through the dusk.

“We’ll be up there in a few days,” said Peron. He took her arm in his. “We’ll see the Fifty Worlds, and maybe we’ll see The Ship. I’ve dreamed of that since I was four years old.”

“I know. So have I. My aunt doesn’t even believe there is a Ship. She says we’ve been here on Pentecost forever.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Nothing. For someone with that view, logic is irrelevant — she’ll believe what she chooses, regardless of evidence. Her religion says God placed us here on Pentecost, and for her that’s the end of the argument.”

“And you?” Peron was aware that she had moved in very close to him. “What do you think?”

“You know what I think. I’m cursed with a logical mind and a lot of curiosity. That’s why I’m taking a good look. Once we go up there, away from the planet, the sky will all be changed.” She sighed. “When I used to think about going off-planet, back when I was little, it almost seemed the same as going to heaven. I thought that everything would be different there. No controls, no security officers, no guards, everything clear and simple. Now it’s going to be another horrible contest.”

Peron nodded. “That’s why they won’t let us be contestants after we’re twenty years old. To do your best in the ‘Fest, it’s fatal if you question what you’re doing too much. The trials need an uncluttered mind.”

“Which we’ll never have again. We’ve left the cradle, and there’s no going back. Let’s hope we’ll find compensations.” She took his hand and ran her fingertips gently over the palm. “Come on, let’s get the interview over. Then you can take me for that walk — the one you were all ready to ask me about when Lum arrived.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

For most of the journey up, Captain Gilby had harangued them incessantly. He had pointed out the features of the ship, dwelling in detail on the things that could go wrong during the ascent phase; he had told them, again and again, that freefall sickness was all psychological, to the point where they would go to any lengths to vomit in private; and he had asked each of the twenty-five to point out their own region of Pentecost as the orbit carried them over it, sniffing contemptuously at their failures. Recognizing a familiar land area from space turned out to be harder than any of them had anticipated. Cloud cover, haze, and oblique angle changed all the usual elements of identification.

But finally, when the spacecraft was nine thousand kilometers above Pentecost and approaching The Ship, Gilby fell silent. This was a case where he had learned to let the event itself overwhelm the contestants, without his assistance.

The craft that had carried them up from the surface of Pentecost was bigger than anyone had expected. A vessel capable of carrying thirty people did not sound particularly large, even knowing in principle how much capacity was needed for fuel. The reality had rendered them speechless. They would ride to space at the top of a mammoth obelisk, towering twenty stories high above the flat plain of the Talimantor Desert.

Now they were facing another change of scale. The Ship had first appeared on the screens as a point of light, far above and ahead of them. As they slowly closed with it, and features became visible, the dimensions could be seen if not comprehended. They were looking at an irregular ovoid, a swollen ball covered with pimples, hair and scratches, like a diseased and mottled fruit. Closer approach brought more details. Each of the small nipples on the underside was a complete docking facility, capable of receiving a vessel the size of the one they rode in; the thin, hair-fine protrusions on the side were landing towers; the regular scratches were composed of a multitude of fine dots, each of them an entry port to the hull.

All conversation had ceased. They all realized the significance of the moment. They were looking at The Ship, the mystical, almost mythical structure that had carried their ancestors across the void from Earth, from a place so far away in time and space that it was beyond imagining.