is Manfrius de Skun.”
“So, Doctor Manfrius de Skun. I have learned that I am on the planet Minerva, the tenth solar planet. In my day, its existence was only a theoretical possibility used to explain irregularities in the orbit of Neptune and the terrestrial approach of Halley’s Comet.” He laughed. “But I’ll take your word for its existence—just as I take your word for mine … Now, what of Earth? What has happened in more than five millenia?”
Manfrius de Skun and Zylonia exchanged glances. The girl gave a faint shrug.
Dr. de Skun turned to gaze squarely at Idris Hamilton’s eye. “So far as we know, Earth is totally devoid of human life.”
“And the moon? Earth’s satellite?”
“Dead also.”
“What about Mars? We knew the moon colony might not be able to go it alone. But we placed all our hopes in Mars. It must be a very flourishing planet after five thousand years. Earth gave all it could to Mars. There is—was—a planetary engineering programme that would give it a breathable atmosphere, fertile soil, enough water …” He stopped, seeing the look on Manfrius de Skun’s face. “What happened to Mars?”
“I am sorry, Captain Hamilton. To you the young colony on Mars is like yesterday. To me it is ancient history. Mars is dead. My ancestors were refugees from its internecine wars. They lifted off the planet shortly before the final atomic holocaust.”
“
I
don’t believe it!
”
“I wish
I
did not believe it, but it is so.”
“
I
don’t believe it!
” His electronic voice, giving vent to explosive emotion, filled the simulated cabin with thunder, causing its two occupants to put their hands over their ears, while their faces distorted with pain.
“Please, Captain Hamilton! You are hurting us!” pleaded Zylonia. “You must exercise control, otherwise we shall have to introduce an automatic cut-out into your sound system.”
He did not seem to have heard; but his voice becamequieter.
“To think of the billions who perished so that man might make a new start on Mars, avoid the old idiocies … To think of Suzy and Leo and Orlando blown to glory … And all for nothing … I can’t believe it. I can’t … You have to be lying, both of you. It has to be some kind of conspiracy … They can’t have died for nothing. The entire history of the human race can’t have ended like that!”
“Idris Hamilton, look at me, please,” said Dr. de Skun softly. “Bring your eye close and look at my face. Tell me what you see.”
“I see white hair, wrinkles, the face of an old man. I see tears on your cheeks.”
“Look for deceit and conspiracy. Tell me if you find any.”
“I see tears, unhappiness. Why do you cry, Dr. de Skun?”
“May I not also weep for the human race, for the brave and gallant people, long dead, who tried to give it a second chance? The last refuge of mankind, Idris Hamilton, is the tenth solar planet, Minerva. Here we do not try to build empires, we have no dreams of conquest, we live in harmony. Harmony, you might say, is our fundamental law, our basic commandment. We are a stable colony of some ten thousand people.”
“Ten thousand! All that is left of a race that once numbered ten thousand million!”
“Biologically, it is sufficient,” said Manfrius de Skun. “If it is yet again our destiny to breed millions, we have sufficiently diverse genetic material.”
“What is your destiny, Dr. de Skun? Here on Minerva, what do your ten thousand survivors propose to do?”
The old man gave a faint smile. “To survive, Idris Hamilton, to endure. That is our main purpose. Simply to endure until we know enough about ourselves, about the nature of man, to avoid making the tragic mistakes of previous civilisations. But now, also, we have the
Dag Hammarskjold
project—the survivors from the age of disintegration. I will be frank. You and the others we have managed to resuscitateare to us living fragments of history. You are from the Twilight Period.
“So, Doctor Manfrius de Skun. I have learned that I am on the planet Minerva, the tenth solar planet. In my day, its existence was only a theoretical possibility used to explain irregularities in the orbit of Neptune and the terrestrial approach of Halley’s Comet.” He laughed. “But I’ll take your word for its existence—just as I take your word for mine … Now, what of Earth? What has happened in more than five millenia?”
Manfrius de Skun and Zylonia exchanged glances. The girl gave a faint shrug.
Dr. de Skun turned to gaze squarely at Idris Hamilton’s eye. “So far as we know, Earth is totally devoid of human life.”
“And the moon? Earth’s satellite?”
“Dead also.”
“What about Mars? We knew the moon colony might not be able to go it alone. But we placed all our hopes in Mars. It must be a very flourishing planet after five thousand years. Earth gave all it could to Mars. There is—was—a planetary engineering programme that would give it a breathable atmosphere, fertile soil, enough water …” He stopped, seeing the look on Manfrius de Skun’s face. “What happened to Mars?”
“I am sorry, Captain Hamilton. To you the young colony on Mars is like yesterday. To me it is ancient history. Mars is dead. My ancestors were refugees from its internecine wars. They lifted off the planet shortly before the final atomic holocaust.”
“
I
don’t believe it!
”
“I wish
I
did not believe it, but it is so.”
“
I
don’t believe it!
” His electronic voice, giving vent to explosive emotion, filled the simulated cabin with thunder, causing its two occupants to put their hands over their ears, while their faces distorted with pain.
“Please, Captain Hamilton! You are hurting us!” pleaded Zylonia. “You must exercise control, otherwise we shall have to introduce an automatic cut-out into your sound system.”
He did not seem to have heard; but his voice becamequieter.
“To think of the billions who perished so that man might make a new start on Mars, avoid the old idiocies … To think of Suzy and Leo and Orlando blown to glory … And all for nothing … I can’t believe it. I can’t … You have to be lying, both of you. It has to be some kind of conspiracy … They can’t have died for nothing. The entire history of the human race can’t have ended like that!”
“Idris Hamilton, look at me, please,” said Dr. de Skun softly. “Bring your eye close and look at my face. Tell me what you see.”
“I see white hair, wrinkles, the face of an old man. I see tears on your cheeks.”
“Look for deceit and conspiracy. Tell me if you find any.”
“I see tears, unhappiness. Why do you cry, Dr. de Skun?”
“May I not also weep for the human race, for the brave and gallant people, long dead, who tried to give it a second chance? The last refuge of mankind, Idris Hamilton, is the tenth solar planet, Minerva. Here we do not try to build empires, we have no dreams of conquest, we live in harmony. Harmony, you might say, is our fundamental law, our basic commandment. We are a stable colony of some ten thousand people.”
“Ten thousand! All that is left of a race that once numbered ten thousand million!”
“Biologically, it is sufficient,” said Manfrius de Skun. “If it is yet again our destiny to breed millions, we have sufficiently diverse genetic material.”
“What is your destiny, Dr. de Skun? Here on Minerva, what do your ten thousand survivors propose to do?”
The old man gave a faint smile. “To survive, Idris Hamilton, to endure. That is our main purpose. Simply to endure until we know enough about ourselves, about the nature of man, to avoid making the tragic mistakes of previous civilisations. But now, also, we have the
Dag Hammarskjold
project—the survivors from the age of disintegration. I will be frank. You and the others we have managed to resuscitateare to us living fragments of history. You are from the Twilight Period.
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