For the crew, time had some meaning--one watch on duty and
two off. But for the thousand-odd colonists, the men and women who were
to be the spearhead of migration to a new and friendlier planet, it had
none. They slept, and played, worked at such tasks as they could invent,
and slept again, while the huge ship followed her plotted trajectory.
Kalvar Dard, the army officer who would lead them in their new home, had
as little to do as any of his followers. The ship's officers had all the
responsibility for the voyage, and, for the first time in over five
years, he had none at all. He was finding the unaccustomed idleness more
wearying than the hectic work of loading the ship before the blastoff
from Doorsha. He went over his landing and security plans again, and
found no probable emergency unprepared for. Dard wandered about the
ship, talking to groups of his colonists, and found morale even better
than he had hoped. He spent hours staring into the forward visiscreens,
watching the disc of Tareesh, the planet of his destination, grow larger
and plainer ahead.
Now, with the voyage almost over, he was in the cargo-hold just aft of
the Number Seven bulkhead, with six girls to help him, checking
construction material which would be needed immediately after landing.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25