Read Online Voyage Across the Stars by David Drake - Free Book Online
Authors: David Drake
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car was traveling at fifty kph or less, so wind noise was no impediment to normal speech. Risa glanced back at her passenger and gave him a broad smile. “We’ve been here longer than you might think,” she said. “But if you mean Elysium doesn’t show—signs of much development, well, that’s true. Our ancestors picked this world to settle because it seemed to them a paradise, a—” she dimpled— “an Elysium. They were determined to keep it that way, and every generation since then has agreed. There aren’t many of us on Elysium—that’s part of why the planet has stayed, well . . .” She took her left hand from the controls to gesture in an evocative semi-circle. “But we’re happy with our world and happy with our lives, almost all of us.”
Slade nodded and tried to keep the questions behind his eyes. Early migrant ships did not pick and choose planets. They had drives which frequently failed, leaving them between stars with no way to re-enter Transit space, or—and this could only be surmised because it left only negative evidence in the human universe—stranded them forever in Transit, in an envelope crushed slowly inward by a palpable grayness.
Risa either read or deduced the doubt in the castaway’s mind. “Our ancestors were slow-ship colonists,” she said. “That wasn’t working for many reasons, so they found a way to escape from their vessel. But I guess it’d be better if you heard the details of all that from my parents.”
“This seems a very lovely world,” Slade said carefully, “and a very peaceful one.” He did not know whether the girl was lying to him or if she were merely retailing the lie which had been told her in the guise of history. That was not important, but it was crucial for Slade to learn enough of the present situation for him to tailor his own lies to meet it. He was a lone traveler, and his hopes of getting home depended on the impression he made on the people he was about to meet.
“Oh, very much so,” Risa agreed with another bright smile. “That’s the main reason we don’t mix very much with other, well, cultures. There’d be problems—sometimes not even everybody here on Elysium agrees about what to do or how. If we opened ourselves to the rest of the galaxy, some of the problems might become violent. Avoiding violence was very important to our ancestors, and to us.”
“Well,” said Don Slade, “a merchant like me who’s bounced around on a lot of planets sees violence, I’m afraid. And I can only respect the way you folk have managed to avoid it.” There was, Slade realized, as much truth to that statement as not.
Risa had not called her base, home, whatever, so far as Slade could tell. He had noticed that the girls in the accompanying cars were speaking. Though there were no microphones evident, it was obvious that they were reporting to someone. Six or eight kilometers ahead, on the shore of a lake that reflected the clouds above it, was a settlement of a few hundred houses and a probable public building or two. None of the structures looked particularly impressive, though that opinion might be affected by distance and the way the walls managed to blend with their surroundings. “This is the nearest town, then?” Slade asked.
“This is the town,” Risa said, “though we call it the city.” For a moment the girl’s smile was replaced by something gentle but wistful. “We’ve seen real cities, you know,” she said. “But none of us have visited one.”
Risa touched a plate in the dashboard. It glowed green, reassuring her about the state of the power-pack. The car’s instrumentation was unobtrusive but very slick, certainly nothing some farmer had cobbled together during a long winter. “This isn’t everyone,” the girl said. “Lot of families like to live alone or with just a few neighbors. But there aren’t very many of us, as I said.”
“Well, the . . .” Slade said, frowning now in open puzzlement. “These air
Slade nodded and tried to keep the questions behind his eyes. Early migrant ships did not pick and choose planets. They had drives which frequently failed, leaving them between stars with no way to re-enter Transit space, or—and this could only be surmised because it left only negative evidence in the human universe—stranded them forever in Transit, in an envelope crushed slowly inward by a palpable grayness.
Risa either read or deduced the doubt in the castaway’s mind. “Our ancestors were slow-ship colonists,” she said. “That wasn’t working for many reasons, so they found a way to escape from their vessel. But I guess it’d be better if you heard the details of all that from my parents.”
“This seems a very lovely world,” Slade said carefully, “and a very peaceful one.” He did not know whether the girl was lying to him or if she were merely retailing the lie which had been told her in the guise of history. That was not important, but it was crucial for Slade to learn enough of the present situation for him to tailor his own lies to meet it. He was a lone traveler, and his hopes of getting home depended on the impression he made on the people he was about to meet.
“Oh, very much so,” Risa agreed with another bright smile. “That’s the main reason we don’t mix very much with other, well, cultures. There’d be problems—sometimes not even everybody here on Elysium agrees about what to do or how. If we opened ourselves to the rest of the galaxy, some of the problems might become violent. Avoiding violence was very important to our ancestors, and to us.”
“Well,” said Don Slade, “a merchant like me who’s bounced around on a lot of planets sees violence, I’m afraid. And I can only respect the way you folk have managed to avoid it.” There was, Slade realized, as much truth to that statement as not.
Risa had not called her base, home, whatever, so far as Slade could tell. He had noticed that the girls in the accompanying cars were speaking. Though there were no microphones evident, it was obvious that they were reporting to someone. Six or eight kilometers ahead, on the shore of a lake that reflected the clouds above it, was a settlement of a few hundred houses and a probable public building or two. None of the structures looked particularly impressive, though that opinion might be affected by distance and the way the walls managed to blend with their surroundings. “This is the nearest town, then?” Slade asked.
“This is the town,” Risa said, “though we call it the city.” For a moment the girl’s smile was replaced by something gentle but wistful. “We’ve seen real cities, you know,” she said. “But none of us have visited one.”
Risa touched a plate in the dashboard. It glowed green, reassuring her about the state of the power-pack. The car’s instrumentation was unobtrusive but very slick, certainly nothing some farmer had cobbled together during a long winter. “This isn’t everyone,” the girl said. “Lot of families like to live alone or with just a few neighbors. But there aren’t very many of us, as I said.”
“Well, the . . .” Slade said, frowning now in open puzzlement. “These air
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