Mr. Spaceship - 3

innate. There were many human groups that did not go to war; the
Eskimos never grasped the idea at all, and the American Indians never
took to it well.
"But these dissenters were wiped out, and a cultural pattern was
established that became the standard for the whole planet. Now it has
become ingrained in us.
"But if someplace along the line some other way of settling problems
had arisen and taken hold, something different than the massing of men
and material to--"
"What's your plan?" Kramer said. "I know the theory. It was part of
one of your lectures."
"Yes, buried in a lecture on plant selection, as I recall. When you
came to me with this proposition I realized that perhaps my conception
could be brought to life, after all. If my theory were right that war
is only a habit, not an instinct, a society built up apart from Terra
with a minimum of cultural roots might develop differently. If it
failed to absorb our outlook, if it could start out on another foot,
it might not arrive at the same point to which we have come: a dead
end, with nothing but greater and greater wars in sight, until nothing
is left but ruin and destruction everywhere.
"Of course, there would have to be a Watcher to guide the experiment,
at first. A crisis would undoubtedly come very quickly, probably in
the second generation. Cain would arise almost at once.
"You see, Kramer, I estimate that if I remain at rest most of the
time, on some small planet or moon, I may be able to keep functioning
for almost a hundred years. That would be time enough, sufficient to
see the direction of the new colony. After that--Well, after that it
would be up to the colony itself.
"Which is just as well, of course. Man must take control eventually,
on his own. One hundred years, and after that they will have control
of their own destiny. Perhaps I am wrong, perhaps war is more than a
habit. Perhaps it is a law of the universe, that things can only
survive as groups by group violence.
"But I'm going ahead and taking the chance that it is only a habit,
that I'm right, that war is something we're so accustomed to that we
don't realize it is a very unnatural thing. Now as to the place! I'm
still a little vague about that. We must find the place, still.
"That's what we're doing now. You and I are going to inspect a few
systems off the beaten path, planets where the trading prospects are
low enough to keep Terran ships away. I know of one planet that might
be a good place. It was reported by the Fairchild Expedition in their
original manual. We may look into that, for a start."
The ship was silent.
* * * * *
Kramer sat for a time, staring down at the metal floor under him. The
floor throbbed dully with the motion of the turbines. At last he
looked up.
"You might be right. Maybe our outlook is only a habit." Kramer got to
his feet. "But I wonder if something has occurred to you?"
"What is that?"
"If it's such a deeply ingrained habit, going back thousands of years,
how are you going to get your colonists to make the break, leave Terra
and Terran customs? How about _this_ generation, the first ones, the
people who found the colony? I think you're right that the next
generation would be free of all this, if there were an--" He grinned.
"--An Old Man Above to teach them something else instead."
Kramer looked up at the wall speaker. "How are you going to get the
people to leave Terra and come with you, if by your own theory, this
generation can't be saved, it all has to start with the next?"
The wall speaker was silent. Then it made a sound, the faint dry
chuckle.
"I'm surprised at you, Philip. Settlers can be found. We won't need
many, just a few." The speaker chuckled again. "I'll acquaint you with
my solution."
At the far end of the corridor a door slid open. There was sound, a
hesitant sound. Kramer turned.
"Dolores!"
Dolores Kramer stood uncertainly, looking into the control room. She
blinked in amazement. "Phil! What are you doing here? What's going
on?"
They stared at each other.
"What's happening?" Dolores said. "I received a vidcall that you had
been hurt in a lunar explosion--"
The wall speaker rasped into life. "You see, Philip, that problem is
already solved. We don't really need so many people; even a single
couple might do."
Kramer nodded slowly. "I see," he murmured thickly. "Just one couple.
One man and woman."
"They might make it all right, if there were someone to watch and see
that things went as they should. There will be quite a few things I
can help you with, Philip. Quite a few. We'll get along very well, I
think."
Kramer grinned wryly. "You could even help us name the animals," he
said. "I understand that's the first step."
"I'll be glad to," the toneless, impersonal voice said. "As I recall,
my part will be to bring them to you, one by one. Then you can do the
actual naming."
"I don't understand," Dolores faltered. "What does he mean, Phil?
Naming animals. What kind of animals? Where are we going?"
Kramer walked slowly over to the port and stood staring silently out,
his arms folded. Beyond the ship a myriad fragments of light gleamed,
countless coals glowing in the dark void. Stars, suns, systems.
Endless, without number. A universe of worlds. An infinity of planets,
waiting for them, gleaming and winking from the darkness.
He turned back, away from the port. "Where are we going?" He smiled at
his wife, standing nervous and frightened, her large eyes full of
alarm. "I don't know where we are going," he said. "But somehow that
doesn't seem too important right now.... I'm beginning to see the
Professor's point, it's the result that counts."
And for the first time in many months he put his arm around Dolores.
At first she stiffened, the fright and nervousness still in her eyes.
But then suddenly she relaxed against him and there were tears wetting
her cheeks.
"Phil ... do you really think we can start over again--you and I?"
He kissed her tenderly, then passionately.
And the spaceship shot swiftly through the endless, trackless eternity
of the void....