Into the Sea of Stars Read online

  "Go on, Doctor," Diana hissed. "We already saw a display of your professional interest in Sister Carrie." She nodded toward the willowy blonde from their first en­counter.

  "All right then. As I understand it, you are a feminist group that holds all men in contempt."

  "Correct, and in fact the only logical thing any normal woman would do."

  "Second, in the thousand years since you've left Earth you've used only X-chromosome sperm to create more women."

  "As is only proper, you see, Doctor. With our huge bank of edited sperm we've eliminated the need for men and for that—how shall I say?—function you once pro­vided."

  "I see." Richard was trying to look professional, and Ian almost found himself laughing at the naked doctor trying to stare down his disdainful audience.

  "Then what do you do for, ah, recreation?"

  "Do you mean sexual gratification, Doctor?"

  "Yes. I mean, after all, ladies, without any men around..." And his voice trailed off.

  Angry mutterings could be heard in the crowd.

  "Why doctor, I'll satisfy your disgusting prurient in­terest, which we realize all men naturally harbor. Doctor, we simply find our necessary gratification in each other."

  "Good lord, I've died and gone to heaven," Richard muttered.

  "What was that?"

  "Nothing, nothing at all.

  "Now, I'm a healthy man, not past my prime," Richard said in reply. "Don't you think some of you ladies—say you, Carrie, or even you, Diana—aren't you curious just to see what it might be like with a man?"

  The audience chamber exploded in outraged shouts of disgust. A torrent of abuse showered down on the two, so that for some minutes Ian feared that they were about to be lynched by a thoroughly incensed mob.

  "Keep your damn mouth shut," Ian hissed, "or so help me..."

  "So help you, what?"

  "I don't know, but so help me something."

  Suddenly Ellen was up and pointing at Richard. "That's what I've had to put up with," she shouted. "It's still that way back on Earth! Thank you, oh, thank you for saving me." She started to cry, and Carrie hurried to embrace her.

  "Traitor!" Richard shouted. "You didn't act exploited when you were trying to get into Stasz's pants."

  Outraged howls roared over the crowd as, sobbing hys­terically, Ellen was escorted from the room by Carrie.

  "Just shut up, Richard," Ian begged, "otherwise I'll strangle you the first chance I get."

  "See, sisters, see the natural aggressiveness coming out, even between two so-called friends."

  The two prisoners fell silent, and eventually the out­raged women calmed down.

  "You, Lacklin," Diana asked, "do you have any ques­tions?"

  In spite of his sense of absurdity, Ian couldn't help but approach the situation as an historian. He felt that he might even have been participating in a historical first— the first interview by a historian in deep space while naked in front of three hundred naked women.

  "Just a minor question first. Why no clothes?"

  "Why not?" Diana replied. "Clothing was exploitive and designed by men to enslave us. Here we are sisters, and free of such things. And besides, the climate is com­pletely controlled."

  "Do you understand your historical roots?"

  "Oh, quite well. Our memory systems have survived intact, and our leaders, who first created our society a thousand years ago, live yet in those memories. Through their inspired guidance we re-learn daily of our ansisters' exploitation by your gender. Each generation that is born here learns it as well from our teaching library."

  That would explain their almost perfectly preserved twenty-first-century pre-Holocaust speech, Ian suddenly realized. The vocabulary and pronunciation would be learned from an unchanging source, thereby guiding the language and arresting it at a particular point. A philologist would be fascinated with their society—it's a living ex­ample of a language long altered on Earth.

  It was fascinating, as well, since the founding philos­ophy had survived, unlike the Friends of the Light who had quickly evolved into something beyond the wildest imaginings of their founders.

  "So you artificially inseminate out of your frozen bank and then train your children through the library."

  "Not artificially" came a voice from the audience. "Ours is the natural way; yours the abomination."

  "Have you ever tried it?" Richard shouted back. "It's not so bad."

  "God damn it, Richard," Ian shouted before the uproar swept over them, "are you trying to get us killed?"

  "We'd prefer if you didn't take Her name in vain," Diana said coldly. "And as for getting killed, you might not be too far off the mark."

  Richard looked at Diana with a weak smile. "May I ask one or two other questions?"

  Diana nodded an affirmative.

  "How do you administer your system?" Ian said before Richard could ask another question.

  "We have a system of support groups."

  "I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with that term. What is a support group?"

  Several of the women laughed.

  "We are all organized into groups of ten sisters who provide support and encouragement to each other. From each such group one is selected who, with nine others selected by their groups, participates in the next level of administration. So the structure progresses up to the Sister Eldest, the position I now hold."

  "It sounds like a logical management system," Ian re­plied, trying to smile in a friendly fashion.

  "Watch it, sisters," Diana said sarcastically, "he's ap­pearing to support us, but we all know that underneath he still wishes to exploit."

  "Okay." He hesitated for a second, unsure if "okay" signaled agreement or expression of anger. They didn't show any stronger hostility so he assumed his colloqui­alism had been correct.

  He tried for another. "I can relate to that and to your struggle."

  "Don't patronize us!" several dozen shouted.

  He wasn't sure of that term either, but the tone of the response was enough. "Let me make this a more personal question then. It's obvious you don't like us, I can accept that. So why not return our clothes and Richard and I will be on our way. And if our two sisters desire, they can head out, as well. Is that okay?"

  Diana's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why? So you can run back to your male-dominated world and give them the word as to where we are?"

  Diana turned away from Ian and faced the audience. "Sister Ellen has already told me that you can make a voyage of a thousand years in just a matter of months. No thank you. We don't want you running home and then bringing back your contemptible breed to gawk and exploit. We know a pig named Stasz is hiding in your ship. Sisters, once we figure out the way, we'll break into the pigs' ship and take it for ourselves!"

  The women cheered while Ian looked at Richard and grimaced. The women were serious, and there would be no turning on the charm and talking their way out. Ian looked appealingly at Shelley, hoping that she would speak out. She looked him straight in the eye then brushed her hair back off her small rounded breasts, so that he could see them more clearly. She favored him with a tiny smirk.

  "So, what are you going to do with us?"

  Diana smiled at his question.

  "The Primary Council support group has debated that question and we've come up with a proper answer.

  "Our frozen sperm is a thousand years old, and in­creasing numbers of samples are flawed after the extended deep freeze. Sister Ellen has assured me that your medical backgrounds are adequate, even if your physical appear­ance is substandard.

  "Therefore," Diana continued, "we propose to use you to resupply our bank."

  "Suppose we won't cooperate," Ian snapped back, his dignity insulted by the mere thought of what she was suggesting.

  "We've thought of that, as well. We understand that you men find the watching of the sexual act between women to be particularly exciting. Perhaps after several such voyeuristic experiences you'll be willing t
o, how shall I say, give us a hand."

  "Oh, God, I've died and gone to heaven," Richard moaned.

  The doorway slipped open and Shelley signaled them to be silent. Ian had half suspected it all along, but know­ing it was true caused him to kiss her with relief.

  "Let's go," Shelley whispered. Ian nudged Richard awake. Richard looked at him bleary-eyed and groaned. He had been taken out hours before for a "session," or at least that's what Diana had said, and must have been returned when Ian was already asleep.

  Ian pointed to the door where Ellen and Shelley stood.

  "Is this an escape?" Richard asked. "Well, if so, count me out, you'll never make it."

  "Come on, asshole," Ellen commanded, "we're going."

  "Leave without me, this setup isn't so bad. At least let me offer a couple more samples first."

  Ellen slipped into the room and pulled out a stun prod like the one Diana used. "If you don't get your ass up and moving," Ellen hissed, "I'm going to put it on your butt and jolt your backside clear across this room. Now move!"

  "All right, damn it." Richard cursed wearily and got to his feet. Ellen fell in behind him and Shelley led the way. Twice they encountered a "sister," and in both cases Shelley managed to drop them with a stunner. And in both cases Richard had to be dragged away from his at­tempt to "make sure there was no lasting damage."

  Finally they reached the airlock entry and a brief scuf­fle ensued as they fought their way past half a dozen guards then finally managed to secure themselves inside the airlock.

  "Now let's hope Stasz didn't decide to abandon us here," Ian said.

  "Not to worry," Ellen replied. "I managed to lift the radio out of my suit and I stayed in touch with him." She pulled the unit out of the pouch hanging from her shoulder, which was the only stitch of clothing she had on.

  "We're in the airlock, Stasz."

  "How the hell do I know it's you?" The fear in his voice was obvious.

  "Listen, you drunken idiot," Richard replied, "I know you've already snatched two of my bottles and hidden them under your bunk since we left Earth. God knows how many more you've taken while I've been away. In fact, that's the only damn reason I've come back—"

  The airlock hatch opened.

  "Blast my eyes with a nova," Stasz muttered as Ellen and Shelley drifted past. Shelley even stopped for a mo­ment, leaned up and kissed Stasz on the cheek, then pushed off and floated away to the main cabin—the three men looking after her.

  "What happened?" Stasz asked, as he looked mock­ingly at his two now slightly self-conscious companions.

  "Paradise," Richard replied.

  "Docking unlatched," Shelley said, her eyes on the main instrument board. She was back in a light coverall, and Ian found himself looking at her and imagining what he had seen earlier.

  There was a faint tug of gravity as the maneuvering thrusters turned them out and away from the torus.

  "My compliments, Ellen," Ian said softly.

  She looked back at him and smiled. "It was Shelley, as well. She had come across a description of the unit in the library banks some weeks back. She pointed it out to me and we both had a good laugh wondering what it would be like if we ever came across them. The moment I saw Carrie I knew what we had hit into, and realized that I had to play along and wait for a chance to escape."

  "Just how far did you play along?" Stasz asked leeringly. "Yeah, the doc told me about what them girls did to each other back there."

  Ellen fell strangely silent.

  "You seemed to enjoy yourself," Richard said, direct­ing his comment to Shelley. "I swear you loved every minute of teasing poor old Ian and me."

  She smiled knowingly and without comment looked back to the board.

  "Did they torture you at all?" Stasz asked, already imagining all sorts of exquisite possibilities.

  "Ahh, what torture," Richard said softly.

  "Just think about this for torture," Ellen said suddenly, with a malicious gleam in her eye. "I was thinking of letting it ride for another couple of days, but then I found out what they had planned for you two so I took the extra risk and tried the breakout at once. It seems they found the old way of taking sperm samples to be rather repug­nant. So, my dear doctor, their medical people came up with a suggestion that Diana approved of right after they had their first specimen-gathering session for you."

  "Oh, I can just imagine what delights they had planned," Richard said smoothly, "though to beat that first session would have been darn near impossible. Ian, my old com­rade, you should have been there to see it. Why, it was a true delight. You really missed something while you were asleep. And then these damn women here came and dragged us away before you had a chance."

  Ian gave the two girls a look of reproach.

  "You could have let me have one session," Ian replied, "before liberating us."

  "Maybe we should have, you ungrateful slug," Ellen responded, her face aglow with a malevolent smile, "but my dear sister Shelley talked me out of waiting. You see, my fine chauvinistic friends, the medical team suggested to Diana that a simple operation could cut off the part of your body that they needed; it could have been rigged to a bio support unit to produce all the sperm they'd ever need. They just did that little show for you to get a sample, so they could check out if you were viable and worth the effort.

  "If the operation had worked, they planned the same for you, my dear Ian."

  Not another word was said as the three men went aft to drink.

  Chapter 10

  Colonial Unit 13

  First Completion Date: 2023

  Primary Function: Cosmos Society. Organization of pro-space activists. One of the first units to demonstrate the feasibility of the O'Neill Cylinder design.

  Overall Design: Single cylinder, 1400 meters by 350 me­ters.

  Propulsion: Matter/Antimatter.

  Course: SETI Anomaly One. Galactic Core.

  Political/Social Orientation: Multinational Japanese, Russian, English. Cited by Beaulieu as "a colonial unit of exceptional promise, showing the possibilities of international harmony through peaceful cooperation in space." With the coming of the Holocaust the citizens of 13 voted to evacuate rather than be turned against each other by their less-civilized ancestors below.

  "Jesus, what the hell is this!"

  The jump-down from light speed was complete, but Ian was ignoring Stasz's shouted questions because he was still nauseated from the transition.

  "Get on the board, Ian."

  Convinced for the moment that dinner wasn't going to come rushing back up, Ian pushed forward to hover be­hind Stasz's shoulder.

  "I'm getting a lot of debris," Shelley called from the Co's position. "I've locked onto a beacon two thousand klicks ahead, declination five degrees off. But there are no significant mass readings."

  "Ian, look at this!" Shelley dialed the CRT up to a higher magnification.

  A human body was at screen-center slowly tumbling through space.

  "I'm picking up more, Ian, dozens of them. Do you want to look?"

  He shook his head and turned away.

  Within minutes Stasz was maneuvering the Discovery through a nightmarish jumble of debris—the twisted rem­nants of what had once been a vessel of several hundred thousand tons. On a number of occasions hard maneu­vering was required to avoid torn hunks of metal and, in one case, a mummified fragment that had once been hu­man.

  "As near as I can estimate," Stasz reported, "a thin cloud of debris is traveling outward from Delta Sag at a velocity of just over 230 miles per second."

  Delta Sag was straight ahead of them and outshining all the other stars in the heavens. Another half hour's run would have jumped them within twenty A.U. of the star. But the signal beacon had caused them to stop and jump down into a floating funeral.

  Ian scanned the trajectory backplot and passed it over to Stasz.

  Stasz punched in the data and within seconds had a response. "Approximately fifty-two years, six months out
ward bound from Delta Sag," Stasz reported, "assum­ing constant velocity."

  "I have the beacon source on visual," Shelley an­nounced.

  The five of them huddled around the primary screen as the image came up. It was a nondescript hulk of in­terstellar flotsam slowly tumbling end over end.

  "Approximately a hundred meters long by fifty wide," Stasz reported. "It looks like the reactor core. It's still hot, I'm picking up some trace readings."

  Even as Stasz spoke, the Discovery lurched slightly as it weaved past a large fragment that its shields could not vaporize. Stasz guided the vessel back onto an intercept course and before the hour was over he was fine-tuning the final approach that would bring them up alongside the reactor unit.

  "This is a waste, Ian," Ellen said, "whatever colony unit this was, it's been blasted beyond recognition."

  The others murmured their agreement. They were flying formation with a drifting junk-yard—torn metal, shredded shielding, shards of glass, and mummified bodies.

  "I need to find out more," Ian replied coldly. "We started out aimless, but with each step farther out, the path seemed to point us into this direction, and to that star." He pointed at Delta. "Now, damn it, we're only a fraction of a light-year out from it and we find this. I've got to know why. Was this an accident or was it something else?"

  "You mean Smith's colony?" Richard asked.

  "Isn't it obvious?"

  "By my hairy butt," Stasz shouted. "There's someone aboard that hulk!"

  They crowded forward to see where he was pointing.

  "There, in that window, I saw a light flashing. Look, it will roll into view again in another couple of seconds. There, there it is!"

  As the window came into view, a strobe flashed once, then again and again in rapid succession, and in the flash­ing light Ian thought he saw a figure waving.

  After half a dozen passes they were convinced that there was somebody alive in there. But how to get at him?

  Twelve hours later they were still debating the ques­tion.

  "Look," Stasz repeated yet again, as if they were ig­norant children. "First, there's no docking port."