The Mile Long Spaceship (20 page)

The landing was smooth and a slight gravity became real instead of the effect of the slow adagio the ship danced to the applause of no one. Rod didn't look in the direction of seat Thirteen as the passengers milled about the curved door being sealed against the airlock of Deimos-port. As he approached the door he turned and snapped his fingers in annoyance.

"Forgot my samples," he muttered and walked back to his chair. Two plastic encased packets of Earth-type dirt that were to be aged under the pitiless atmospheric conditions of Mars lay on his chair seat. Carelessly he picked them up and slipped them into his pocket. Benton turned to wave as he stepped through the airlock.

Rod passed close by seat Thirteen and as he did, he let fall on it one of the small packets of Iowa's loam. At the door he turned and for a moment the slate grey eyes seemed to glitter a bit, perhaps in recognition, or even forgiveness, and then the hand moved and the curtain was around the chair-bed.

Rod stepped out and looked up through the transparent top of the airlock at the world waiting for him. He didn't look back at the dumb-bell again. Anyone watching him would have thought he was murmuring to himself about the great, desolate world hanging over his head, but his thoughts were, "He understands. A man, even a man in a boy's body, has to do what he must, and be able to live with it afterwards."

The bleakness left his eyes, grey like his father's, as he strode quickly and confidently through the airlock.

"Oh Brother Homer,
do be more careful! Your train, your train!" Deacon Jethro smoothed again the long flowing robe into the proper ecclesiastic folds. "And, Brother David, I do wish you would sit down, before you stumble and fall. Will you never learn to turn correctly?" Deacon Jethro flew back and forth between the two evangelists, his hands fluttering, his eyes darting from the one at hand to the one removed. Then he wailed in anguish, "Brother, you have stepped on it again! Oh dear, Oh dear!"

Brother Homer looked at Brother David and they exchanged a solemn wink. Brother Homer was seventy-five, as was his fellow preacher, mere youngsters compared to the deacon, however, already they had seen much in the world and had survived it all cheerfully, always full of the spirit of divinity. Or so they said; in truth, they were of the simple nature, as were most of the Brethren, that allows to each his faults and vices so long as each admits same. During the years since their novice days their lists of sins of commission and omission had grown shorter rather than longer which was presumably why they had been selected for the great honor to befall them. That and the fact that they had no nerves to excite having been trained since their novitiate to accept all things, and with them the training had been successful; therefore they alone of the assembled Brethren waiting in the ante room were calm and untroubled about the ceremony that would begin immediately.

As the time neared Deacon Jethro became more and more fidgity about their every movement until they finally had to send him from the room on a hastily contrived errand. Kindly but firmly they ushered him from the cubicle they had been assigned, over his protests that nothing could proceed without him. Then they allowed themselves a deep sigh of relief.

"Brother, do you know how we are to proceed from here?" Brother David was looking about the room curiously, a luxury not permitted by the Deacon.

"No more than do you, Brother. And no more than the Dcacon. I fear that he misleads us about his infinite knowledge of these things." Brother Homer was content to stand in the center of the room and survey it without moving an inch of his generous frame. All along he had feared that his love of food might cause him to forfeit this opportunity, but Heaven was good and his will power had held out, keeping his hulk within the prescribed limits set by the Board. It had been a bitter struggle, won with hard work, concentration, mind over matter, the power of prayer, and the firm ability to say no and mean it. The fact that in almost every instance it had been Brother David who had said the no and then led him unyieldingly from the tempting dish made no difference; his weight was not above the limit. And that was what mattered.

The room they were in was a perfect square, twelve feet each way. One door led from the ante room and dressing rooms, and the other to a destination as yet unknown. The room was bare, apparently heavily insulated, for no sound penetrated. The lighting was of this indirect nature that kept one guessing its source and never learning the secret. No one ever had emerged from this room once the Board had interviewed him. So, no one could say for a certainty what occurred in it. But there were rumors aplenty. Both gentlemen of the cloth had heard their share of these when the summons had come for them to appear some six months ago. Among the stories that stayed in circulation was the one that said there was no Board, that it was a myth to keep the populace content with mere longevity when they might have immortality. During the five hundred years of its life the Longevity Building had been stormed and attacked by the people in their endeavor to have the immortality the Board doled out no less than sixty times. And always the result had been the same. There was no resistance; every door opened to them, calmly, unhurriedly and with futility. They found this room the Brothers now occupied, but they found no Board, no person who had survived more than the prescribed two hundred fifty years the law allowed everyone, and certainly not the much sought elixir, nor any means to obtain it.

But still every so often someone received a summons and appeared at the Longevity Building at the prescribed time, only to enter and never emerge. And now Brothers David and Homer had come also.

Brother Homer remembered when the notice had been read in open chapel, by the Most Reverend Elder himself. Following the reading of the summons there had been a period of five minutes when even the water in the Holy Vessel had ceased to flow and then the Most Reverent Elder had solemnly intoned, "Brother David, Brother Homer, stand and be seen and known for living saints. For the five hundred years that the human race has known the secret of immortality, we have yearly sent in our petition for one of our Brethren to receive this most blessed gift so that he might carry on our work to the outmost corners of the universe as man was ordered to do by the Divine One. You are charged with the awesome duty of carrying the Precious Word across the infinite reaches of space, so that in truth man may be united with man through the love of the Most Divine One." Overcome by his emotion, the Most Reverend Elder had motioned his carriers to lift him and return him to his apartment across a continent and ocean. Noiselessly the robots had encased his feeble frame in the field that permitted the almost instant transportation he was allowed because of his high station in life.

Among the youngest of the Brethren, Brothers Homer and David were as stupificd and bewildered by their destiny as were the rest. Some of the lesser elders were a little hateful considering that they were all as one, and each as all, in the sense that each had the same mission in life, to teach the Precious Word. Brother Homer knew that there were others more saintly, more eloquent, more persuasive, more learned, more patient, than either Brother David or himself. With humility that was inspirational he accepted the approbations due the chosen ones, and in his heart he wondered, why he?

He had been standing quietly ruminating about this for several minutes while Brother David tried to find a way to open the door that had to lead to immortality and the fulfillment of their lives' work. He made no effort to aid his fellow, had indeed very little curiosity about what lay beyond the door. Never give an answer to or take any positive course concerning any problem until it has heen thought through and through, and hope that by then it will have solved itself was his secret of imperturbability. And very nearly always in the past it had worked. They would learn about the door and the future in due time, and now he was wishing he had a couch to make himself comfortable, and that he had eaten a larger luncheon.

Suddenly Brother David announced, "I think the room is moving. Do you feel a vibration in the air?"

Brother Homer wasn't really surprised. He had long suspected that the Board didn't actually meet in the building named after it. He felt nothing except his increasing fatigue at standing so long. And when Brother David said in a few seconds that the vibration was gone, he merely snorted.

After another brief wait, Brother David again called out. "Look, the door is opening!" Then he too fell silent and drawing himself upright and stately advanced to meet the Board. He stopped at the door however.

With an anxious glance at Brother Homer he squared his shoulders even stiffer. Nothing happened. They waited several moments and finally they ventured out. Beyond the door was an ordinary office. It had couches and robots doing their copying and paper work, and in a corner was a computer of a modest nature. Its panel was small, but seemed efficient as the lights blinked violet and green. Occasionally one of the robots rolled to it and inserted its receiving tentacle. That over, the robot again resumed its photo copying of the information thus gathered. The office was not busy, in fact, the robots were almost loafing at their duties, so deliberately did they do their tasks. Brothers Homer and David looked at one another dismayed. They had seen offices that made this one look like an antideluvian artifact which had received just enough of the breath of life to move about in slow motions, no more.

Brother Homer would have made for one of the couches immediately had not Brother David restrained him. "Wait, they must have made a mistake in the time of our arrival. Surely they would have been better prepared for us had they known we were due now." But as he spoke the door at the far end of the room opened and several men entered arguing volubly.

"I think it's nonsense, and I wouldn't have hesitated a minute to tell the old goat. The idea of sending individual petitions for each Brother!" The speaker was tall and inclined to baldness, a rarity that made the good Brothers stare.

"Perhaps, perhaps, but it's best to keep on the good side of them you know. They could get nasty with us if they became so inclined." This one was younger, not a bit over one hundred fifty. Very young indeed to be a Board member.

The third man spoke soothingly to the other two, "Well, it's done now, so let's leave it alone. At least it will keep those infernal petitions from filling the drum."

"I just don't like it," the first man said unmollified. "What if some other cultures have the F.T.L. Drive and elect to fight over the matter. They did it here, you know." And as the other two looked sceptical he added, "All the ancient history books are full of reports, or rumors, if you beg the point, of religious wars." As Brother Homer and Brother David exchanged puzzled glances, their slight movements caught his eyes and he looked at them with a startled expression. "Oh, for pete's sake, will you just look!" he said impatiently.

The other two looked and the younger one laughed. "You never know what will step out, but this is ridiculous. Look at those robes!"

At this Brother Homer drew in his belly a bit and straightened his shoulders and Brother David began to turn slightly red over his ears. "We have received a summons from the Longevity Board," Brother Homer said grandly reaching into the voluminous folds of the robe to produce the letter, but to his chagrin he couldn't find it. As he fumbled, the youngest of the men looked at him kindly for a moment and then waved aside the matter. Brother Homer felt Brother David's eyes scorching him as he gave up the search. "Well, be that as it may," he said dismissing the letter, "obviously we did receive it, or we wouldn't be here. Now if you will take us before the Board, or tell us when to return to be interviewed, we will take no more of your time." He felt that he had finished in the manner of a man who was accustomed to dealing with the likes of the strange trio for whom he was supplying such evident entertainment. Impulsively he had decided they were human secretaries or office underlings.

The balding man was smiling too at the expression on Brother Homer's face and making no effort to curb his amusement. With a wave of his hand he indicated the couches along the walls. After they had made themselves comfortable he said, "Gentlemen,
we
are the Board. And there's to be no interview. We say there will be one only because we have to say something. We couldn't let the world know that the choice was made largely at random." At the looks of amazement and disbelief that both Brothers displayed he explained more fully. "You see, we couldn't possibly wade through the millions of requests that we get each year for immortality, so we draw names from the drum you see standing over there." And there it was, an ordinary antique drum, made from some sort of mesh. There were enough slips of white paper in it to fill it about a third full. "That's the way it's done and now you know part of the reason why no one who receives the gift ever gets to return to Earth. When it's full we give it a spin and pull out some names. It wouldn't be safe either for the recipient or for us if the world knew about this. So we allow no return."

"But you are on earth." Brother Homer was stung to retort by the off hand manner of the other man.

"Yes, but I'm not immortal. So it doesn't matter about me. And no one knows we're on the Board anyway." He motioned to the other two who nodded agreement with him. "They're not immortal either," he added as if it were an afterthought of little consequence. Then he went on, "I'm Lasky. Dr. Jorgenson," the youngest of them nodded, "is the authority on what you can do and can't do after you are made immortal. I will tell you all you want to know about the history and purpose of the Board, and Dr. Chan will do the work on you physically. So the rest of it is up to you. Some people have a lot of questions and others have none. We decided that this is the fastest and most satisfactory way. Why bother you with facts that you don't want?" Stifling a yawn he nodded to them to begin.