Daughters Of A Coral Dawn Part 2

"WHAT ARE THE ODDS FOR SUCCESSFUL COLONIZATION?".

Hera nods in satisfaction at the question. "Venus, perhaps you would a.s.sist."

Venus moves gracefully to join Hera. By far the most beautiful of us now as always, she wears a soft blue flowing robe which suggests rather than conceals the womanly curving of her body. She gazes at her audience with azure eyes, and speaks in a voice of sensual tones which nevertheless contains authority.

"The risk is enormous. Initial tests may dictate a restricted existence to us immediately, as Vesta has suggested. We can do only so many laboratory tests, we can duplicate only conditions we are aware of, that we can forecast. The long term effects of this planet are the key. Will there be bacteriological conditions beyond our knowledge? Ultraviolet differences, to change the properties of our genes? Or will we adapt with a minimum of side-effect? We do not know."

Hera flings out her arms. "But we will not be like Christopher Columbus on an uncharted sea. Nor Robinson Crusoe with limited resources on a desert island. We will be the best prepared exodus in all history."

"HOW FAR A JOURNEY TO THIS PLANET?".

"A descendant of mine has just determined that answer," Hera says proudly, "and Megan will speak."

Megan looks only momentarily startled. "Thank you, esteemed Hera."

*She moves to the projection module. An equation appears on the screen. "Eighteen days to the Einsteinian Curve, as we all know." Another, far more complex equation appears. "With optimum current starship technology, ninety-seven days beyond that to orbit and planetfall."

"Excellent, my dear," Mother says, beaming.

"HOW CAN WE BUILD A STARSHJP AND REMAIN UNDETECTED?".

"We cannot," Hera declares in her most imperious tone. "Megan, call up coordinates point niner-four-five and six."

Against the backdrop of the ghostly gray-white craters of the moon floats an immense brown brindled carrier ship, with faintly discernible Cryllic lettering repeated at intervals along its ma.s.sive hull.

There are murmurs of surprised recognition.

"The Brezhnev," Hera confirms, and falls silent, allowing us to contemplate it.

Brezhnev's one venture beyond the Einsteinian Curve has given it justifiable fame: it carried back to Earth the oxy-plants that had cleansed the pollutants from the atmosphere. Afterward, it had made numerous solar system circ.u.mnavigations, but the continuous reshielding required for s.p.a.ce-worthiness had eventually reached the point of diminishing returns for the Eastern Bloc; and more than a decade ago they had built the Tolstoi. Brezhnev has been in parabolic lunar obit ever since.

"Through my daughter Kendra's company we inquired about salvage rights to this abandoned and mothballed ship." Hera smiles with immense satisfaction. "Our generous initial bid has been greeted with great eagerness by the Eastern Bloc."

"Of course if they hadn't been eager, we'd have taken it off their hands anyway," Mother adds, to laughter.

"But it's so much nicer this way."

"Yes," Hera says, "especially when we have no use for credits where we're going. Megan, please key in coordinates niner-four-seven and eight."

A research station turns in stately slowness against the blue and white swirls of Earth. Hera does not bother to identify this historic station which was abandoned when the solar laboratories were built.

"Kendra's company has a two-year maintenance contract with WACASA," Hera says.

She strides to Mother's side and stands illuminated in the pool of gold light. "Our plan is simple. We will buy Brezhnev and all necessary supplies to outfit it. And use Skylab as warehouse and waystation for ourselves and our equipment. We will expend a great many useless credits purchasing what we need, and in return we can never be accused of thefta"which will confuse the issue of pursuit, perhaps. All reshielding and testing will be accomplished while Brezhneva" which we will rename, of coursea"is on orbital pa.s.s on the moon's dark side. Preparations will require total cooperation from all of us who choose to leave, and a *coordination of effort on the most ma.s.sive scale imaginable." Hera stalks back to our group, and sits down.

"CAN OUR SHIP LEAVE UNDETECTED? WHAT IF WE ARE PURSUED?".

Isis stands, "We cannot leave undetected. We can a.s.sume pursuit, for many reasonsa"mainly irrational. At best we Can evade pursuit. We have the advantage of Brezhnev's...o...b..tal configuration, and leaving from the moon's dark side. There will also be Earth's decision-making time-minutes to perhaps hours. Our computations have determined that except under the worst possible circ.u.mstance we will reach the Einsteinian Curve first. Our odds then of being found in hypers.p.a.ce drop to fifty percent or less, given the ingenuity of the navigation plan we will devise."

"I have an idea how we may reduce those odds even' further," Mother says musingly, "but it needs more thought."

"HOW WILL WE AS INDIVIDUALS BE ABLE TO LEAVE EARTH SAFELY AND UNDETECTED?".

As Olympia stands to answer, erect and dignified in her gray robe, Mother snorts, "Details, mere details to be worked out. Next question." Olympia sits down.

"DOES OUR NEW PLANET HAVE A NAME?".

Smiling, Demeter stands. She is the most reflective of us, sweet-natured and humorous, totally immersed in her work which, as she has grown older, has tended more to the research aspects of the medical arts.

She has lived with Aleda, a lovely descendant of Vesta's, for many contented years.

"The planet is currently designated on WACASA maps as M233.143-3," Demeter says. "As Mother's elders we have taken the libertya"certain that we would have your approvala" to name our world after Mother,"

First Mother glares at us, then scowls at her audience until the tumultuous applause dies and everyone sits down. "Forget it," she says. "I refuse to set foot on a planet called Mother."

Demeter's rejoinder is soft. "We have named our world .. . Maternas."

"Maternas," Mother muses.

Applause builds, swells, thunders. "All right, all right," Mother grumbles, holding up a hand. "Who is your poor Mother to argue?"

We know she is pleased.

"WHEN DO WE LEAVE FOR MATERNAS?".

"The best question so far." Mother thumps her chaise in emphasis.

*I rise to answer. "Nine months to a year. With proper coordination of our efforts, we can reduce the time.

The crucial element in our preparations is coordination."

"And I have some ideas about that," Mother says, her eyes drifting over to Megan. She gets to her feet.

"I'm tired, dear ones. And you know how details bore me. Hash everything else out among yourselves. I know you girls can manage."

To continuous cheers and applause, Mother makes her way to the corridor leading to her quarters; then she turns and beckons, for Megan.

IV.

Personal Journal of Megan 2199.2.26 It is not that I am reticenta"although others may judge me so. In a brief life where time has been insufficient to my needs, verbal expressiona"either recorded or spokena"is an expenditure I make as carefully as any other. Minerva has told me that a journal containing the persona! thoughts and observations of a leader will one day be a vital part of the history of a new world. That will never be. I will never permit access to my personal thought. But at this moment, the reflection required to record this is southing to me, and will perhaps make concrete the dreamlike events of the past days.

Before our Unity met, I had extrapolated that one day we would no longer retain meaningful productivity and motivation in our lives, that a growing sense of futility would eventually bring a period of withdrawal, of isolation, perhaps even exile. But my mind had not mad;e the conceptual leap to exodus .....

The instant I saw on lumiscreen our new worlda"its indistinct coral and ivory hues defeating my staring efforts to discern a revealing featurea"I knew I would offer every skill I had, every talent, all my training, to help build this world ...

But never did I dream that I would play a part such as I have been given ...

When we reached Mother's quarters, she arranged herself on her chaise, and I began to pace. It is impossible for me to sit quietly; I am too conscious of unused time slipping past. Mother, who contemplated me as I paced, no longer disconcerted me; I now knew that her ways are not meant to disconcerta"they are simply her ways. And so her eyes followed me, the eyes which somehow have come down all the generations of her descendants to me. My mother has grey eyes; my natal sisters Lilia and Tara have inherited her eyes and diminutive stature. As I recall, my male parent's eyes are a nondescript variant of hazel. I seldom cast a thought to him; he displayed interest in me only when my achievements rewarded me with a small degree of renown, and his is an interest I see no reason to return.

"Sit down, dear," Mother suddenly directed.

*Smiling, I sat where she indicated, at the foot of her chaise.

"Of course you're coming with us," she said.

"Nothing could prevent me."

She said tartly, "Then tell me how you will contribute."

I replied with caution and deference. "In the area Minerva referred to as coordination of effort. I have completed advanced study in colony design, several of my concepts have been applied on Jupitera""

Mother said impatiently, "I know all about your accomplishments."

I said in surprise, "I am honored. I suggest that three essential plans must be devised. The first priority is outfitting a ship previously an ore carrier to make it habitable over many months for more than four thousand of us, and-"

"Four thousand? Why do you say four thousand?"

"A mere guess," I said swiftly, apologetically. "It seems ... a correct number. Some of us will have powerful ties here. Others will be psychologically unable to leavea""

"Four thousand or so was the number Isis arrived at," Mother said, "except that she used one of her curve chartsa"" She waved a hand. "Details bore me. Continue."

"The configuration of our ship's interior must be planned in minute detail, supplies and equipment precisely computed. The talent among us must be correlated, allocated, applied. At pfanetfall, while preliminary tests are undertaken and Maternas is surveyed and charted, while decisions are taken about where we shall locate, the transition period from the ship to Maternas must be planned and organized, a well-conceived and flexible structure for our living arrangements must be designed in advancea""

"Enough," Mother said.

She reached to me, took my hand, patted it; and said the wordsa"casuallya"that have reverberated in my mind all these days since: "Megan, my dear, you are my choice to lead our exodus and settlement on Maternas."

I could only stare at her. Then stammer, "There are others : . . I'm younga""

"If you ever get to be my age which Geezerak knows n.o.body isa"well, most of you young people are quite boring, I must admit. But aside from that, age is irrelevant to almost everything." She looked at me, eyes distant and containing an expression I could not identify. "You have skills uncannily matched to our needs ... as if a seed has come to fruition at the precise moment its fruit is most badly needed . .."

*"Mother," I said as she trailed off, "only you should lead us."

She looked at me acutely then, her eyes aware, compelling. "Leadership is simple. It requires only the ability and willingnessa"the couragea"to make decisions. I believe that you have that courage. I will help, dear one. But this is a time for youth. Your time."

I did not answer. I could not. My mind was filled with visions.

"There is a price," Mother said. "There always is."

I looked at her.

"Loneliness."

I smiled. "I have been most of my life alone."

"A very short life. Dear, choice is so very different from necessity. Do you know anything of leadership dynamics?"

"Some," I admitted. "As part of my studies. As a facet of colony reorganization. And enough to know I will not be readily accepted by women as talented as I, women of vastly more maturity than I."

Mother sighed. "I know I'm old as dust but wisdom is such an effort. .. Listen, my dear. It's really very simple. Beginning tomorrow you'll be seen always in my company. Decisions I and my Inner Circle are required to make will be referred to you. Until the idea of your status is firmly implanted. Then it will be up to you to build your own authority and power base."

My mind was already grappling eagerly with the immensity of such responsibility. "I dedicate myself toa""

Mother waved a hand. "Skip the homilies, dear. And try to keep one thing in mind at all times. Even in a group such as this, all aspects of leadership psychology apply. Leadership imagery, for instance. Black and white are power colorsa"so dress all the time just as you are now. Power attracts, Megan. Irresistibly, My gifted children are no more immune to the charisma of the leader than anyone else . .. especially such a leader as you. Many worhen will soon want to occupy your bed, however briefly. I'm sure they do anyway," she added, coolly surveying me, I laughed, warmed by so offhand a compliment. "If I haven't had much time before, I certainly won't now, Mother."

"No, you won't." Her face was more somber than I had yet seen. And tired. "Loversa"a familya"distract.

Dilute attention and energy. And create jealousies, factions. Our circ.u.mstances will be unforseeable, with the survival of thousands at stake. The stakes are much too high fora""

"There will be no one," I said firmly. "I a.s.sure you it is a loneliness I can accept."

*"It is a most difficult loneliness. One that grows more difficult. I know all about the difficulties," she murmured, and lay back, her eyes shuttered from me. "And that aspect of your life has been open to you for so short a time . .."

"I accept it without reservation," I said, knowing it would be easier for me than most. Perhaps I should have revealed the extent of my innocence to Mothera"this missing element in my lifea"but I decided that I would not; it was an innocence in which I took no pride. "I give you my word," I said. "My solemn word."

She murmured, eyes closed, "It begins tomorrow, Megan. My Inner Circle contributed heavily in the choice of you ... they are eager to support you ... to have you join us . . ." "1 sleep little," I replied, "and rise early. I willa"" But Mother's breathing had become the slow rhythms of sleep. Carefully, gently, I covered her with a soft fleece thermolet, and walked soundlessly from her quarters, thinking that she had looked tiny and vulnerable . .. and knowing that I would protect her at any cost, this woman to whom I had willingly, unhesitatingly, pledged my life.

V.

2199.4.6.

Mother has told me, "If you insist on pursuing this eyewitness history of our journey, then focus it on Megan. The leader always provides the history, the legends."

But how shall I record Megan?

In these days of chaos, amid the maelstrom of our preparations, she has been peremptory,'

dogmatic, abrupt, impatient, even rude. Yet she has been our rationality, our strength.

No, she has said to the fabricators that we argued were essential to our new settlement, "Synthesizers only. If we cannot build our own fabricators after planetfali, then the planet's resources are insufficient to our needs."

No, she has said to equipment for full oxygenation. Her tersely given reason: "Oxygen only on the living levels, and we will draw that partly from photosynthesis in the greenhouse areas. The rest of the ship will be sealed except to repair crews."

No, she has said, her finality implacable, to all pleas, no matter how rending, for personal possessions of any kind. "Supplies for transit and planetfali are the only priority. If anyone cannot leave behind her possessions and mementos, she may stay behind with them."

*No, she has said to modification requests for the tiny and starkly bare cubicles that will be our living quarters. "If anyone cannot accommodate to four rigorous and tightly disciplined months in s.p.a.ce, then she does not belong with us."

She has a.s.signed responsibility with a maximum and flattering degree of trust. "You and Olympia choose, a.s.semble your own team," she has told us. "The decisions about what knowledge we store to take with us are yours alone."

She speaks seldom, and then with simplicity; but she has full appreciation for a task well thought out and completed with excellence, and a brief word of praise from her seems eulogy. A task completed below her expectation will bring silencea"and redoubled effort to transform that silence.

Hera has established the team which is redesigning the ship we purchaseda"and have renamed Amelia Earhart. Megan's design contributions based on rotational principles are brilliant, Hera says, and have enabled Hera to release part of her team to begin the critical work on Amelia's power drive.

Isis, in charge of supply distribution, says that Megan's instant computation of the most complex weight to stress ratios is astonishing ...

She is everywhere. And her presence is exhilarating.

I have tried to a.n.a.lyze that presence. She is constructed of tension: the slender body always erect, blade-straighta" never conceding fatigue, although she seems never to sleep. The ivory skin luminous and tight, as if polishing the sculptured planes of her face. The mouth finely shaped, but often drawn taut with concentration, the lower lip caught in even white teeth. She seems fully energized, like an ent.i.ty in perfect exercise of its powersa"like a cat stretched out in certain pursuit of its prey.