“But we’re here, and the emortals are still in the solar system,” Matthew pointed out. “We have to deal with our own situation as we are, as mortals—as we always knew that we would. The fact that Earth’s human population has survived and thrived instead of dying is welcome news, but it doesn’t affect what we came here to do. We’re still the first wave of extraterrestrial colonists: the vanguard of the diaspora.”
“On the contrary,” Tang came back at him. “That one fact changes everything—not, admittedly, in terms of what we wantedto do when we set out from the solar system, but in terms of our obligationsto our fellow men. Had Earth really entered a Dark Age, we would indeed have arrived here as pioneers, entitled to believe that we might be the best if not the only hope for the long-term survival of our species. Given the circumstances that actually pertain, however, we are obliged to ask ourselves whether we can still go ahead with the colonization of Tyre, given that it may require less than a hundred years—and will certainly require less than two hundred—for us to learn how to engineer men who would be far better adapted to that task.
“It is certainly not the case that we could not make good use of a delay, given what we have already discovered about the problematic and enigmatic nature of the local ecosphere. If we rush ahead foolishly with the colonization project we do so at the risk of disaster—not merely for ourselves but for the local ecosphere. If, instead, we were to remain in orbit until communications with our parent world could be properly restored, continuing our studies in the meantime with reasonable discretion, we would lose nothing but time. We left the solar system because we thought the human race had run out of time, but we were wrong. We did have time, and we have it still. To act as if we did not would be stupid and irresponsible.”
Tang had been right to point out that everyone to whom Matthew had so far spoken had taken the view that the colonization project must press ahead as originally envisaged. He had also been right to imply, without being so impolite as to state it forth-rightly, that their views had fitted in so readily with Matthew’s preconceptions that he had not even thought to challenge their views with any real vigor. Now, Matthew realized that there might be some merit in the ancient saw that said that wherever fools were inclined to rush in, angels ought to tread more carefully.
“So you’re not actually against the idea of colonization,” Matthew said, carefully. “You just want to take it slowly.”
“I’m not forthe idea of colonization either,” Tang said. “I believe that we ought to proceed slowly and carefully, so that we can make a proper determination of the practicality of colonization. I believe that we ought to discover the solutions to the many enigmas with which we are faced beforewe commit ourselves to a course of action that might be mutually destructive. And I believe that we ought to make sure that if, or when, we decide that colonization of Tyre is both feasible and desirable, the task is undertaken by people who are fully prepared for the job. You and I, Dr. Fleury, are not. We might wish that we were, but the fact remains that we are remnants of a primitive era, who have been far outstripped.
“In other circumstances, you and I might have been justified in thinking of this world as our Ararat: the place in which, for better or for worse, our daughters must grow up and bear children of their own. In the circumstances that actually pertain, it is our duty—however unpleasant—to recognize that if our daughters are to be among the mothers of a new human race, they ought not to take on that role until we are able to make full use of the technologies of twenty-ninth-century Earth in shaping their offspring.”
“I see,” said Matthew, meaning that he understood the argument but needed time to think it over.
“I wish you did,” was Tang’s unexpected rejoinder. “Alas, you have only just begun to see. I, on the other hand, am able not only to see more clearly but also to feelthe true alienness of this world. When you return to Rand Blackstone, he will tell you—scornfully—that I am afraid, and that I have begun to sense menace in every ripple of the river, every cloud in the sky. He is right. I amafraid—but what I fear more than anything else is the insensitivity of men like him. Given time, I am sure that you would learn to see as clearly, and feel as deeply, as myself—but there are those here and in orbit who would far rather press you to reach premature conclusions.”
Matthew hesitated for a moment before saying: “What did Bernal Delgado think?”
“Bernal was an honest scientist,” Tang told him. “He had listened to both sides of the case, and had reserved his judgment—but I must believe, must I not, that he would have seen soon enough that I am right?”
“Are you implying that that was the reason for his murder?”
“I have not the slightest idea why Bernal was murdered,” Tang assured him, “nor have I any idea who might have killed him, in spite of what your friend the policeman thinks.”
“Vince has reserved his judgment too,” Matthew assured him. “If he suggests otherwise, it’s purely for tactical reasons. What difference would it make to your calculation of the logic of the situation if the alien humanoids turned out not to be extinct?”
“As a good Hardinist,” Tang said, letting a little irony into his voice, “I would surely be bound to assume that they were the putative owners of the world, and the best potential stewards of its future development. If there are intelligent aliens here—and if the city-builders still exist, even if they have given up the city-building habit, they must surely be reckoned intelligent—they are entitled to every moral consideration that we would apply to our own kind. This is not 1492, Dr. Fleury; we must learn from our historians as well as our prophets.”
“And what would you do if you found out that someone had been forging alien artifacts, perhaps with a view to persuading others that the aliens were not extinct?”
“I would be very sad to think that anyone would sink to such a subterfuge,” Tang told him.
“Solari’s convinced that Bernal faked the spearhead himself,” Matthew told him, although he knew that Solari would not appreciate his traps being prematurely sprung. “Is there anyone here who feels strongly enough to take violent exception to a discovery like that?”
“I would be very sad to think so,” Tang repeated. There had, of course, been no possibility that he would drop the slightest hint of accusation, even though Rand Blackstone was the man most flagrantly opposed to his own position—and thus might be reckoned to have the most to lose, if anyone did persuade others, dishonestly, that the intelligent aliens were still around.
Matthew thought that was the end of it, until Tang added one more observation. “However sad I may be or may become,” the biochemist said, seeming to pick his words very carefully indeed, “I do wonder how much it really matters who killed Dr. Delgado, or why. Whatever the details of the crime may have been, it is the world and the problems it poses that have shaped his death. No matter what solution your friend may find, the significance of the event remains the same. We came here too hurriedly, Dr. Fleury, and we are ill-equipped for our chosen task. If we cannot decide to be rational and dutiful, there may be many other deaths. We are mortal—and we know now how frail we are by comparison with those who inherited the world we left behind. I only pray that we may use what life we have as cleverly and as carefully as we possibly can.”
The biochemist’s tone was still level, still amiable, still perfectly serious—but for the first time, Matthew felt that he had caught a glimpse of the awful bleakness and devouring fear that had taken hold of the man. There were, apparently, many people at Base One who felt exactly the same. Matthew realized that the situation into which he had been delivered really was far more complicated than he had so far been prepared to assume.