*Generation Gap*
                         by John G. Hemry
      Different phases of life require different approaches. The hard part is knowing when --
and how -- to change.
--------
      "Is it real?" From the observation deck of the Generation Ship _Terra_, a
compartment of cold, gray metal relieved only by wide display screens, the blue/
white/brown world below seemed like one more video simulation played out within the
confines of the ship's computer systems.
      "It's real." Greg Tyre nodded toward the image. "I went to one of the airlocks, suited
up, and went Outside for a look. It's there."
      Frowns creased brows all around him as the crowd reacted. "Was your walk
authorized?"
      "Why does that...?" Greg bit off his reply as he saw the frowns deepening. "Yes. I'm a
ship maintenance and repair tech. I can authorize a walk whenever needed to examine
the hull. I determined it was needed."
      Most of the frowns disappeared at the reassurance and attention returned to the
globe on the displays. Greg turned at a touch on his sleeve and saw Jane Fernandez had
come up next to him. She leaned close to whisper. "Oh, dear. You might have broken a
Rule, Mr. Tyre."
      "Yeah," he murmured back. "Why get manic over that when we're looking at the
planet our great-grandparents set out to reach?"
      His answer came not from Jane but from a large man who shook his head, eyes
narrow with disapproval. "Those Rules kept us alive and got us here, young man. Continue
conforming to them."
      Greg smiled back at the man. "Yissur." The man glowered at the youthful slurring of
the respectful reply, made a clear show of reading Greg's nametag, then turned his back.
      Greg felt a tug on his sleeve, following as Jane led the way out of the crowded
compartment. As they closed the hatch behind them, Jane pointed back inside, made a
gagging motion, then laughed. "I am going to be soooo glad to get off this thing. What do
you suppose it'll be like?"
      "A planet? Like the simulations, I guess."
      "Oh, get real. It's got to be different. Come on, let's go to Port One and watch the
screen there."
      Port One, the first recreation lounge on the left side of the ship, displayed the same
image on its display screen. A crowd of young men and women were scattered at the
tables, eyeing the vision with rapt attention. "Hey, Jane. Greg," one hailed them. "It looks
like Earth, doesn't it?"
      Jane shook her head. "Different land masses."
      "I don't mean in _details_."
      "Then don't ask a planetary geologist for an opinion." Jane laughed again as she took
a seat. "I still can't believe it. A real planet where I can actually practice geology."
      Greg smiled and nodded. "Yeah. It's weird. We've been scheduled to arrive here
about this time ever since our great-grandparents set off. But it never seemed real, not
until we actually got here."
      "It still doesn't -- " Jane's reply was cut off by the image of the planet vanishing,
replaced by the Seal of the Community of _Terra_ Township and a loud fanfare of
trumpets. "Oh, hell. What's Mayor Magetry got to say?"
      The community seal slowly faded in time to the trumpets, replaced by the lined face of
Mayor Magetry. Magetry looked slowly back and forth, as if scanning his audience, which
he could indeed be doing if he chose to use the surveillance cameras in every
compartment. "This is a good day." A low groan emitted from the young adult audience in
Port One. Magetry had begun every speech of his career as mayor with that phrase, and
since he'd been continuously reelected since his father stepped down, it had been a long
career. "We have fulfilled the dreams of our ancestors by reaching this planet."
      Jane cocked an eyebrow at Greg. "I thought our ancestors' dream was to establish a
colony here."
      "Me, too."
      Magetry's face held a warning frown, now. "I must caution against irrational
exuberance, against any weakening of the bonds and Rules and Traditions which have
kept us happy and healthy over this long journey. The planet must be examined.
Evaluated. A landing party will be sent out after due time. Until then, continue in your
duties, praise our ancestors, and trust in the procedures which have brought us this far,
and will take us further. If need be." Magetry's face spasmed in a brief smile, then faded
out to another trumpeted chorus.
      "Inspiring," Greg noted. "Why is that robotic assist the mayor, anyway?"
      "Because he's always been mayor," Jane pointed out. "Just like his daddy."
      "Yeah. Mayor-for-Life Magetry. Heaven forbid the voters should elect anyone else.
They've always voted for a Magetry. Why change?"
      Jane grinned and called out the question to the crowd. "Why change?"
      The other young adults in the room smiled with the same mixture of mockery and
bitterness as the crowd yelled back: "It's always been that way!"
      Someone pounded on the controls to the display until the image of the new world
reappeared. While a few, brief cheers rang out, Carl Chang came in, spotted Greg and
Jane, and headed for their table. "Private party?"
      "Nope. Have a seat. How's life in social paralysis?"
      Carl managed to look pained. "Social programs, if you please."
      "Same difference."
      "Not to me." Carl looked around conspiratorially. "I caused a real ruckus in there, you
know. I moved somebody's pencil box to the other side of their desk."
      "Don't let Magetry find out," Jane advised. "Did you hear his little speech about
irrational exuberance?"
      "I couldn't miss it. What'd you expect Magetry to say?"
      "I dunno. Some hint he's happy about reaching the planet we've been heading for all
our lives, maybe?"
      Carl shrugged. "Why should he be happy?"
      Greg gave him a puzzled look. "I'd think that was obvious."
      "That's 'cause you're young. At least in ship terms. You're, what, close to thirty years
old? Change isn't totally scary to you. I'll bet it'll be a lot scarier when you actually
encounter change."
      "What's so bad about change? I'm sick of Rules, sick of Traditions, sick of having
people watching me every second to make sure I'm not deviating from the social norm."
      Jane nodded. "Ditto."
      Carl spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "Look, you guys are always joking
about my job in social programs. But all I'm doing is helping to carry out the original vision
for this ship. As are the people who are watching you. You know what the _Terra_ is,
right? I mean, as a social unit?"
      "Paralyzed." Greg pointed at the display. "Did you view the last update we got from
Earth? I couldn't even understand some of the stuff they were doing and talking about,
until I saw some five minute segment of people who acted and talked like us. And you
know what? That segment was part of a popular _historical_ drama that's all the rage
back on Earth these days."
      Carl nodded, obviously unsurprised. "Sure. Like you say, we're paralyzed. By design.
What do you get when put a few thousand humans into a social unit and isolate them?
You get a small town. The most socially conservative way of living known to mankind.
Small towns don't change, because the social pressure is all aimed at conformity. That's
us. Change comes to small towns as a result of outside influences. New people moving in,
new ideas coming in. How much of that do we have?"
      "None."
      "Right. We live like our great-grands did, because there's nothing forcing us to
change." Carl leaned forward, speaking softly. "Even ideas. The updates from Earth get
censored, you know."
      "Everybody's heard that."
      "Because it's true. Don't let any disturbing stuff enter the community. And guess
what? Most of our little community is as happy as can be with that." Carl chuckled.
"There's also the social system whereby people marry and have kids late. That's why
people our age are regarded as 'young.' It all builds stability. People used to worry about
breakdown in social order on generation ships like this one. But, really, they tend to the
exact opposite. Social stability."
      "And," Jane added, "if they start to veer from that, social programs gets them back on
track."
      "Um, yeah."
      "Do you ever feel guilty?"
      "A little. People can be happy without being happy in a socially conforming way. But
not on a ship where carelessness or accident or riot could literally kill us all. Which is why
we have Rules instead of just rules." Carl smiled briefly at the displayed image of the new
world. "But, down there, we can relax, I guess. Maybe I won't feel any duty to keep people
in line."
      "What'll you do, instead?"
      "Try to help people like Magetry cope, maybe."
      "I'm sure he's planning on running that planet just like he's run the _Terra_ all our
lives." Greg smiled at the thought. "But down there we'll be able to leave if we want. Form
our own town if we want."
      Carl seemed disconcerted by the thought. "I ... suppose. But it'll be just a few
thousand humans against a whole world, you know. We'll need to stick together. Do
what's best for everyone."
      Jane eyed Carl appraisingly. "You sound like an elder. A conforming elder. As Greg
and I were just saying, our ancestors' objective was to establish a human colony in
another star system. It wasn't to keep things from ever changing in our society."
      "I explained -- _"_
      "Something we already knew. We had to do it to stay alive and keep the ship from
breaking apart. Fine. We made it."
     Carl smiled once again. "Hey, no offense. I understand. Will you be going down with
the survey missions?"
     "I hope so." Jane's attention swung back to the image of the world below. "I can't
wait."
      ***
"Why are _you_ going instead of me?"
      Greg smiled in what he hoped was a placating manner. "All I know is the shuttle pilot
wants a maintenance tech along, and I got picked. Really, Jane. I had nothing to do with
it."
     "It's not fair!" She glowered at him, then spun on her heel to stomp away. "At least
bring me back a rock!" Jane yelled over her shoulder.
     "Sure. No problem," Greg assured her back just before she left the room. He took a
deep breath, checked his tool kit, then headed for the shuttle docking bay.
     "Tyre? I'm Trey. Shuttle pilot." A woman perhaps two decades older than Greg stuck
out a hand and grinned. "I've gotten some of your stuff because of typos."
     "Is that why you picked me?"
      "Partly. I was familiar with the fact you existed. But I also wanted someone young
enough to still be able to think independently."
     "Excuse me?"
     The pilot raised her eyebrows. "You don't understand?"
     "Well, yeah. I just didn't expect that from, uh..."
     "An old broad? I'm not that old, kid. And I'm a pilot, which means I value having
someone with a good brain backing me up." She shook her head, gazing at the airlock
leading to the shuttle bay. "You can train somebody to the point they stop thinking. Yeah,
you do understand, don't you? All we've ever dealt with on the _Terra_ are the same
things, over and over again. I expect to deal with something new on that planet."
     Greg smiled. "I sure hope so, ma'am."
     "Give me a break. I'm not that old. It's Gayle." She checked her watch. "Come on. The
schedule of events calls for our passengers to arrive in exactly twenty minutes, so I'm sure
that's exactly when they'll all show up. Let's get some checks done."
     The airlock felt no different from any of the airlocks Greg had used to access the
outside of the _Terra_'s hull, but instead of open space it led into the bay of the shuttle. A
dozen seats, six to a side, filled the upper part of the bay, while a hatch labeled "cargo" led
to a lower area. Gayle Trey led the way forward through another hatch into the small
cockpit, then indicated the seat next to her. "That's the flight mechanic's position. Strap in
tight when the time comes."
     "Yes, ma'am. Sorry."
     "You'll get over it. So will I." She rubbed her cheeks with both palms, eyeing the
navigational display. "We've been surveying the planet from orbit since we arrived, you
know. We'll be landing on a plain not far from a major river. It's in what should be the
planet's temperate zone, and looks well suited for a colony." Gayle grinned indulgently at
Greg, who suddenly realized he had a huge smile on his face. "Really looking forward to it,
huh?"
     "You bet."
     A chime announced the arrival of the passengers. "Wait here."
     Greg pretended to study the instruments while Gayle led the survey team into the
shuttle bay, then frowned as he heard a sharp voice. "Rules require the senior qualified
mechanic in cases such as this."
      "No, they don't," Gayle replied in a polite but unyielding tone. "The Rules state the
senior qualified individual should be used _if_ all other factors are equal. As pilot for this
mission, I decide whether all other factors are indeed equal. It is my judgment that
Mechanic Tyre is best qualified, and the Rules give my judgment priority."
      Mumbles, grumbles and the rattle of seat harnesses being fastened were the only
other sounds until Gayle returned and sealed the hatch. "You ready?" she asked Greg.
      Greg belatedly realized he hadn't strapped himself in and fumbled with the straps,
trying to sort out the tangle. "Blast it."
      "It's not _that_ complicated." Greg flushed as he saw Gayle watching him with an
amused expression. "A bit nervous?"
     "Hell, yes."
      "Me, too. I've never actually flown this thing in atmosphere or a planetary gravity field.
Just simulations. It ought to be interesting to see how accurate the simulations are, huh?"
      Greg's eyes widened. "Uh, yeah."
      She checked some readings on the panel before her, then smiled thinly. "Every month
I've come in here and run system checks. Every month. Just like my dad did. Just like his
mother did. Now I finally get to use it. I get to _do_ something with it."
      "It sounds like you're looking forward to it."
      "Damn straight. Let's go."
      Greg's stomach protested the shuttle's movement. A lifetime on the massive _Terra_
hadn't prepared him for the lurches and swings of a much smaller craft. He gulped,
praying he wouldn't lose his last meal, and glanced over at the pilot. Gayle sat, her eyes
locked on the display, her hands gripping the controls ever so lightly.
      The shuttle skipped across the upper atmosphere, shedding velocity and losing
altitude, the outside image on the display growing wavery as turbulence and heat distorted
the view. Gayle pushed the shuttle lower, easing up slightly as its structure vibrated under
the strain. The sky grew bluer, the land more defined. Something white shot by in a flash,
startling Greg, followed by another. "Clouds," Gayle breathed, like someone who'd just
seen a miraculous vision.
      Greg fought down a wave of panic as the planet's surface jumped toward them. Gayle
touched the controls gently, correcting the shuttle's approach to the open field, as grass
and other vegetation shot by close underneath. The forward braking thrusters fired,
reducing the landing velocity, then the shuttle transitioned to hover before gently coming
to rest.
      Greg waited impatiently while the survey team painstakingly tested the planet's
atmosphere. The atmosphere had already been sampled a dozen times by automated
probes, but none of the team seemed willing to trust that data. Finally, the leader signaled
approval and the shuttle's exterior hatch was cracked.
      "What do you think?" Gayle had followed Greg out of the shuttle and stood beside
him now, looking around.
      "It's ... overwhelming." New sights, new sounds, views running off to an horizon which
seemed impossibly distant. "I've been in Earth-based sims, but this is ... is ... so much
more."
      "Yeah." She bent to feel the grasslike stalks beneath their feet, then jumped
backwards as something small and grayish scuttled away from her hand. "A bug! Look! A
bug!"
      "Really?" It looked like the pictures he'd seen of bugs, anyway, though Greg had an
impression of ten legs instead of six before the creature vanished into the surrounding
field. "Does it bite?"
     "It didn't bite me."
     A shout echoed from where the survey team had huddled together. "Look out!" The
team scattered in all directions, one member waving frantically toward Gayle and Greg.
"Life-forms! Insectile life-forms! Look out! They're in the grass!"
     "I guess they found a bug, too," Greg remarked. He eyed the ground uneasily, shifting
his feet. "How many are there? Am I standing on one?"
     Gayle took a step back onto the shuttle's ladder. "Maybe. Hey!" She swung one hand
in a frantic motion as a small, gray object fluttered erratically near her head. "Another bug.
A flying one. Bug repellent. We need bug repellent."
     "That's right. We have the formula for that, don't we? If it works on bugs here." Greg
brushed his hair back in annoyance as a breeze flipped it over his eyes. "Somebody's got
the vent fans set too high."
     "Vent fans?"
     "Yeah, the -- Oh. That's, uh, wind, right?"
     "Right. It sets its own speed." Gayle squinted around. "Annoying, isn't it? I want to
turn it down, too. Setting up house on a plain might not be a good idea if wind's a problem.
What's that shining over there?"
     Greg followed her gaze. "Water, I think. Isn't that where that river is?"
     "Uh-huh. Good call."
     Several survey team members came to cluster near the shuttle, one nervously staring
toward the river as well. "That's dangerous, you know."
     "Dangerous?" Greg questioned.
     "Running water. Rapids. Undertows. Aquatic predators. Mud flats. Very dangerous."
     "It looks sort of pretty from here."
     "So does a neutron star from a distance. That doesn't mean you want to get near it."
     "Floods," another stated.
     "Right. Rivers can flood. Maybe we want to be someplace higher. The mountains?
Aren't there fewer insects in the mountains?"
     The first surveyor checked his data unit. "Yes. At least, that was the case on Earth.
But it's colder in the mountains. And, uh, landslides."
     "Landslides?"
     "Falling rocks and soil. And snow slides. Same thing, in winter."
     The surveyors headed slowly away from the shuttle again, scanning the grass as they
carefully placed each foot.
     Greg watched them, then jerked back as another bug zipped past his face. "Gayle?
Do we have any of that bug repellent on the shuttle?"
     "I sure hope so. Let's find out."
     "I wonder why we didn't think to put it on before we left the shuttle?"
     "Probably for the same reason we didn't think to wear hats." Gayle squinted into the
sun. "That's a little too bright to be comfortable, too. Maybe we could get, uh..."
     Another surveyor, gingerly walking past, looked over at her. "Sunburn. Yes. Painful."
     "How do you know if you're getting sunburn?"
     "Check your first aid manual for depictions of radiation burns. A sunburn is simply a
relatively mild form of radiation burn. And that means it can lead to skin cancer. You
should minimize exposure."
     "Radiation burns? Just from walking around?" Greg shaded his eyes. "Is there
anything down here that isn't dangerous or annoying?"
     The surveyor paused, as if taking the question absolutely seriously. "We're still
checking the planet out."
     Some hours later, the surveying team gathered back at the shuttle. Some of them,
those with the fairest skins, showed the blush of what the alarmed medical team member
announced to be the first traces of sunburn. An additional hour was spent exhaustively
searching for bugs which might be hiding in anyone's clothing or equipment. The flight
back proved uneventful, more tiring than exciting after the labors of the past hours. Yet,
as the survey team filed off the shuttle and back into the hull of the _Terra_, their spirits
obviously rose. "We're back!" the team leader announced happily. "Everyone, get your
reports filed as soon as possible."
     Greg watched them leave. "Gayle?"
     "Yeah, kid?"
     "Back on the planet, those team members looked unhappy and uncomfortable the
entire time. Now, they couldn't be happier."
     "What'd you expect? They're home."
     Greg looked around at the metal making up the surfaces all around. "Yeah, but ... not
anymore. We have to think of that planet as home."
     "That's not going to be easy, Greg. Even for younger types."
      ***
"How long are they going to take to evaluate this planet?" Jane demanded. "It's been
three weeks since you went down and nothing's happened. They haven't even staged one
of their stupid contests, like 'let's name the planet.'"
     Greg shook his head. "I don't know that any more than you do."
     "At least I have my rock. Thanks for bringing that back, anyway." She slapped the
table top. "They haven't even sent down any more survey teams! They're just analyzing
and reanalyzing the stuff gathered by the first team."
     "The automated probes on the surface are still sending back data -- _"_
     "If we wanted to examine this world by automated probes then humans didn't need to
come out here in the first place!" Jane subsided, then glanced around Port One. "Where's
your buddy Carl?"
     "I thought he was your buddy, too."
     "Well ... where's he been?"
     "I heard from him real briefly. Apparently you're not the only one chafing at the bit to
get on the planet. Social programs is working overtime to keep everyone calm, productive
and happy."
     "Ugh. I'm sorry, Greg, I used to like Carl a lot, too, but the more I think about his job..."
     "I know. But Carl's doing it for good reasons. He doesn't buy into it as an end-all like
the elders in social programs."
     "He didn't when he started out. That was years ago."
     Greg frowned down at the table. "I don't think he's changed that much."
     "You -- Who's that?"
     Greg followed Jane's gaze to where a woman had entered the room, her maturity
making her stand out next to the twenty-somethings who usually frequented the lounge.
"Gayle Tyre. The shuttle pilot who took us down to the planet. She's good people, Jane."
     "I remember you told me that. What's she doing here? Did she take a liking to you or
something?"
     "She's a little bit older than me, Jane."
      "Some women like that. So do some men."
      "Not this one. Besides, I prefer planetary geologists to pilots. I got you a rock, didn't
I?"
     "Be still, my heart."
     The pilot scanned the tables until her eyes settled on Greg. Gayle beckoned Greg
silently, eyed Jane for a moment appraisingly, then gestured her along as well. Greg and
Jane exchanged glances, then rose to follow the pilot out of the lounge. They walked
swiftly and silently through a procession of hatches and passageways until they reached a
small compartment whose walls were lined with shelves holding pieces of equipment.
When Gayle had sealed the hatch behind them, she waved around. "Junkyard. Stuff that
can't be fixed and has been stripped of everything worth cannibalizing."
     Greg stared around in amazement. "It can't be fixed?"
     "This ship's a closed system. Eventually, even our stockpiles run low, even our repair
and fabrication facilities run out of certain materials. And, no, the general populace isn't
told. It might cause 'alarm.'"
     "I don't understand. If it's a closed system, how can we run out? We recycle
everything."
     "Because it's a real-world closed system, kid, not a theoretically perfect closed system.
Even if our recycling processes were 99.9 percent effective, we'd still lose something in
every cycle. And part of our closed system deals with living creatures like you, me, and the
veggie decks, none of which are incredibly efficient consumers of material. Some of the
stuff in every cycle is just too hard to recover." She scuffed at the deck. "The vent filters
can't pull in everything, either. Someday they may get desperate enough to run vacs over
every square centimeter of surface inside the _Terra_ in hopes of recovering enough lost
dust containing critical elements. But even vacs let dust get away."
     "Why'd you bring us here? Just to tell us that?"
     "Because the surveillance gear in this room is also busted. It's been cannibalized to
keep the cameras and mikes going in other rooms, where seditious youngsters like
yourselves gather." The pilot slumped against the nearest wall. "The town council's made
a decision."
     "About what?"
     "The future. Theirs and ours. The planet's been declared unsuitable for habitation."
     "What?" Jane seemed to be in shock. "Why?"
     "All kinds of reasons. Weather. Mercy, it can rain down there. Or get cold. Or hot. The
wind blows. Right, Greg? Bugs. Animals. Plants growing all over the place. Tectonic
activity. You might get earthquakes."
     "That's just like Earth!"
     "It's not being judged by people who've ever lived on Earth, young lady. It's being
judged by people who've spent their entire lives, like their parents before them, inside a
world where the temperature is always maintained at a comfortable level, there's no bugs
in the beds, the plants are all kept in pots and the only storms are emotional."
     "But ... but..." Jane looked at Greg helplessly. "Any planet will be like that. Any livable
planet. They can't evaluate a living world by the criteria of a climate-controlled ship!"
     Gayle grimaced. "You saw them, Greg. On the surface. How'd most of the landing
party react?"
     "As if they'd been dropped into the first-stage recycling tanks. I sort of understood
that. I mean, it was all so uncontrolled. So wild. But they were looking for a reason to reject
the world, anyway, weren't they?"
       "Yeah. You're pretty smart for a kid." Gayle grinned at the mocking reference to
Greg's relative youth. "Those reasons are just an excuse. They don't want to change.
Anything."
      Jane stared at the pilot. "Like Carl told us. Stability is the primary virtue, the primary
imperative, in the society of the _Terra_. Actually setting up a colony on that world would
change everything, wouldn't it?"
      "Oh, yeah. People who didn't like Mayor-for-Life Magetry could actually go somewhere
else and set up their own town. The Rules wouldn't have to be Rules anymore." Gayle
raised her hands as if grasping at invisible controls. "I could fly. Across a world. See new
things. Let my kids fly, too, instead of endlessly training so their descendants could
someday fly."
       Greg remembered the air rushing past the shuttle's hull, the wild ride to the surface. "I
can understand that."
       "But it's more than that. Moving down onto that world means leaving this controlled
little man-made world of ours. We'd have to deal with lots of stuff that we can't control.
Like weather, just to give one example. That's a big change for us, too."
        "Our ancestors did that. So can we. Why are you telling us this?"
       "Because I don't want to put up with it and I don't know what to do! I've been living on
this ship too long. My brain's almost hardwired. You guys can still think for yourselves,
right?"
       "How long have we got to think of something?"
       "Twenty hours. That's how long it's supposed to take to get the course calculated and
the main drives ready to propel the ship toward the secondary objective. Magetry and the
others know some people will be unhappy with leaving here. They plan on announcing the
decision just before they light off the drives so there's no time for anyone to do anything."
       "The secondary objective." An alternate world in an alternate solar system. "It'll take
the ship more generations to get there. We'd never see a planet again, would we?'
      "No."
      "And when the ship finally reaches that secondary world, whoever's in charge then,
Magetry the Sixth or Seventh or Tenth or whatever, will decide that's unsuitable, too, won't
they? And try to head for some tertiary world."
       "I'd bet on that, yeah."
       "Just try to keep things the same. Until the ship breaks too bad to fix and our
descendents die in the middle of nowhere." Greg found himself laughing, then noticed the
expressions on the faces of the others. "It's so damned ironic. Our ancestors set this up.
They wanted an extremely stable social environment. Nobody rocking the boat, nobody
trying to change things, and all so their descendents could someday reach another world
and establish a colony. But they forgot that their stable social system might backfire at the
critical point. Why should a system built on stability want to change things? Especially
when the ship they built is so predictable and comfortable compared to the conditions we'll
encounter on the planet? They worked so hard to make sure it'd succeed that they set
this colonization attempt up to fail."
       "We follow the Rules," Gayle pointed out. "Our ancestors could have set a Rule that
we had to land on the planet. No options."
      "But what if the planet really had been some hell-hole? Then Magetry and all his
supporters might be shoving us into the landers regardless of what the surveys found."
Greg looked toward Jane. "We've got to do something."
       "Something? What kind of something?" Jane waved around to indicate the rest of the
ship. "We can't take over. The security force won't back us, and a majority of the people
on board will either support Magetry or refuse to oppose him. Even a lot of the younger
adults. Most people don't want to rock the boat. We don't have to take a poll. You _know_
that's true."
     "Yeah. I do. I'd guess anywhere from one quarter to one third of the people on the
_Terra_ would feel like we do and be willing to do something to actually oppose leaving."
Greg looked away, his gaze focusing on a forlorn piece of equipment, broken beyond
repair, perhaps doomed to sit in this room as long as the _Terra_ existed. Just like the
human inhabitants of the ship. Something he'd said earlier tugged at his mind. The
landers. "Then we have to leave."
     "Leave? Just accept Magetry's decision and sit while the _Terra_ heads for another
star system?"
     "No. I mean we have to leave. Leave the ship."
     "What?" Jane took a moment to let the thought sink in. "How?"
     "The landers. We all got taught about them in school. The flight and landing
sequences are automated. Each one's got a bunch of supplies and equipment on board.
And they'll each carry a hundred people down, right? We just take a few."
      "A few? How many do you think will go with us?"
     "I don't know. And we have less than twenty hours to somehow collect a group of
people who feel like we do without letting anybody know we're breaking the Rules."
     Gayle shook her head. "That's not your only challenge. You can't just waltz onto the
colony landers. There's interlocks and alarms and system passwords. Those need to be
bypassed or isolated. The landers can be warmed up in about an hour's time if they're like
the shuttles, but you need to keep the ship's control room from knowing you're doing
that."
     "What about the people we're leaving?" Jane asked. "If we take the landers, what
happens to them?"
     Gayle shrugged. "They'll be fine. There's enough landers to take down almost the
entire population, and each of them has an assortment of redundant colonizing gear on
board. They're one-way transport, remember? Only the shuttles were designed for multiple
ground-to-space flights."
     "Are we also taking one of the shuttles?"
     "Damn right we are. That's mine."
     Jane checked her watch. "Twenty hours. There's no way you and I and the few other
people we can trust can sound out literally hundreds of other people to see who wants to
go."
     "We don't have to ask everybody -- _"_
     "We have to ask a lot of them! I don't want to leave someone who really wants to go.
And we'll need every person we can get. We'll need them for their skills, and their ability to
do manual labor, and just for simple genetic diversity. Right?"
     Greg bit his lip. "There's only one way to do this. We handle it like a propagating
message. I sound out two people, who each sound out two people, and so on."
     Gayle frowned. "That's very risky. If the wrong person hears, we can be stopped."
     "What else can we do? Besides, one virtue of life on the _Terra_ is we _know_ our
neighbors. Look, we'll use a password. Nobody gets the password until whoever sounds
them out is sure they're with us. Up to that point, the discussion can just be written off as
discontent and Magetry will think that'll be undercut when the _Terra_ leaves, right? But
anyone we're sure of will get the password and be told that when they get it they need to
head for the landers."
      "So what's the password?"
      Greg hesitated, thinking of how they'd be violating the Rules which had governed their
entire lives, and leaving the controlled comfort of the _Terra_ for a future of uncertainty
and toil on the planet beneath them. "'Forbidden fruit.' That'll be the password that we're
leaving."
       ***
The elder standing watch at the hull systems panel glanced down at Greg. "You found
that problem, yet?"
      "Almost."
      "I hadn't noticed anything wrong."
      "It showed up during a remote diagnostic." Greg tried to keep his voice calm, almost
bored. "Maybe it was just an intermittent thing, or a false reading, but the Rules say you
have to follow up. Even if it is the middle of the night and I should be asleep with most
everybody else."
      "That's right. It's good to see you kids taking the Rules seriously."
      Greg offered the watch stander a hopefully sincere-looking smile, then continued the
careful job of bypassing the alert systems which would otherwise provide warning the
landers were being accessed and powered up. A final connection, a final check, and he
nodded with real satisfaction. "That's got it."
      The elder was already losing interest. "Everything's okay, now?"
      "Just how it needs to be." Greg left the area, trying to suppress a wild grin, then
checked the time. Three hours. He'd already bypassed the secondary watch panel, as well
as the panel in the main control room where an unacknowledged alert would eventually
present itself. He headed for the lander access area.
      "Jane? How's it going?"
      His friend twitched wildly at the question, then glared at him. "Greg Tyre, do me the
favor of not sneaking up on me!"
      "Sorry. I've finished the alert bypasses."
      "Great." She raised her data unit and punched in a command. "I've sent out the
password. People should start showing up real soon. Gayle's already got people here
ready to start warming the landers. Nobody asked what you were doing?"
      "A couple of people. I gave them a remote problem detection story and they didn't
question it."
      Gayle Trey and a couple of others came to join them. "Why should they? Nobody
makes waves on the _Terra_. Nobody breaks the Rules. Not if they know what's good for
them and don't want to be shunned by their neighbors."
      A short woman standing beside the pilot and dressed in the deep blue of the security
forces smiled tightly. "And they'd usually get caught, because their neighbors would tell.
Don't worry. I'm an old friend of Gayle's, and I'm on your side. I've seen how the _Terra_'s
society works from the enforcement side. I don't like it. I want my kids to have freedom."
      Jane nodded. "Did you rig the surveillance systems for this area?"
      "Yes. They're showing an endless loop of the last hour's recorded activity instead of
actually monitoring the area. And since that hour included absolutely no activity, everything
will look fine to my soon-to-be former co-workers."
      Greg exhaled heavily, staring at the security woman. "I never thought of that. I guess
we're lucky you're coming along."
      Another smile. "I suppose so. You'll need cops on the surface, too, I expect."
       A large man pushed his way forward. "Hopefully not." He glared around. "In case
anybody cares, I've severed the control lines running from all remote locations to this area.
Even if they find out what we're doing, they won't be able to stop us at the last minute by
powering down the landers or something." Another glare. "I'm tired of people telling me
what to do." The man turned and made his way toward a lander entry bay.
       Greg glanced at Jane and spoke softly so his voice wouldn't carry. "Did you see the
look in that guy's eyes when he said he was tired of people telling him what to do?"
       "Yeah. I guess freedom from conformity may have its downside in terms of some
people."
       People began arriving in the lander area, in small groups for the most part, including
families urged on by one or both parents. All moved furtively, constantly glancing around.
Gayle greeted a few, exchanging thumbs-up gestures. "More pilots. Good people to
have," she advised Greg.
       "I bet. I noticed a family resemblance."
       "I told you my kids would get to fly."
       "Have you noticed the ages of these people?"
       "You mean the mix of elders and youth? Sure. There's more younger ones, but not
everybody gets beaten into conformity by age." She eyed the stream of arrivals, biting her
lower lip. "There's a lot. Has anybody been keeping count?"
       Jane rubbed her forehead and consulted her data unit. "I've counted five landers filled
and ready to go."
       "Huh. And there's at least a couple of hundred more lining up. Looks like we might get
up to a quarter of _Terra_'s people. Cool."
       Greg shook his head, staring at the people jostling into the access area. "Won't
security see these people? I mean, they've got to be noticing all the traffic through the
corridors."
       "Depends if they're awake and watching or not. My friend the cop says they usually
watch movies on this shift because nothing ever happens. And why should they expect
anything different to happen tonight?"
       "What if somebody told the wrong person?"
       "If that'd happened, security'd already be here, right?"
       "Or they'd be massing just out of sight."
       The pilot shrugged. "If they charge, we slam the hatches and bolt. Too bad for those
still outside, but I've no intention of letting the social programs people work me over."
       "I can't blame you." Greg grimaced. "Social programs. There's somebody I forgot to
tell."
       Gayle checked her watch. "You've got maybe forty-five minutes before we're
scheduled to go. But we might have to go earlier."
       "I know. But I can't leave a friend."
        ***
Greg ran, along corridors which grew steadily more familiar, until he reached Carl's room.
He hung on the buzzer until Carl, blinking sleep from his eyes, opened the door. "Carl. The
town council decided to leave this planet and head for the secondary objective. We're
bolting the _Terra_. Taking some landers. Come on."
       Carl stared back at him. "You're not serious. Are you?"
       "Yes! Come on. We're leaving soon."
       "Wait a minute. Who's 'we'? How many people are you talking about?"
       "I don't know exactly. Hundreds. Come on. This is our only chance for freedom, for
change."
     "Greg, if the council made the decision to leave, then they represent the entire
populace. We have to respect that. We have to work together. No individual can put their
wishes ahead of the group's, ahead of everyone else on the _Terra_."
     Greg reached for Carl's arm. "Drop the social program cant, for heaven's sake. Let's
go."
     Carl's own hand came up and grabbed onto Greg's. "No. Let's go inside. Security has
to know. It's for the best of everyone. Really."
     "Let go of me!" Greg yanked back against Carl's grip, realizing as he did so that
getting free would require a big fight, one certain to attract the attention of the security
cameras monitoring this area. "Carl -- _"_
     "Greg, you can't do this."
     A lifetime of resentment suddenly surged to the surface. "Don't tell me I can't make
my own decisions, you son of a bitch!"
      "I'm not -- _"_ Carl's eyes widened in surprise. Greg felt a smooth tube run next to his
body, then Carl's body spasmed. Greg broke free, his own arm and hand tingling from the
shock transmitted through Carl's grip, and turned to see Jane standing behind him with a
security stun baton in one hand.
     She stepped forward and jabbed the tip into Carl again, ensuring he was
unconscious, then pushed his body inside and slid the door closed. "I told you so. Good
thing Gayle told me you'd gone to get a friend, and I decided to come here in case this
happened."
     "Where'd you get that thing?"
     "Gayle's security friend lent it to me. Come on. We've only got a few minutes left, even
assuming this incident didn't attract anyone's attention."
     They ran. An occasional person saw them, watching with curiosity as Greg and Jane
hurtled by. As the entrance to the lander area came into view, they saw there were still a
couple of dozen people funneling in. A moment later, pulsing red lights flared to life and
speakers shouted out words which echoed through the quiet corridors. "Security alert.
Security alert. Seal all hatches. All inhabitants of _Terra_ remain in your current location.
Warning. All landers are nonfunctional. I repeat, all landers are nonfunctional. Do not
attempt to use them. Warning."
     Gayle leaned out, her expression worried, then smiling as she spotted Greg and Jane.
"What a relief. Get in here. Everybody!" she shouted, as some of the others hesitated in
almost instinctive obedience to the orders the speakers had given. One man paused, then
turned and ran back the way he'd come. The others crowded in, Greg last. Gayle
physically pulled him inside, pushing the hatch shut even as she did so. "They're right
behind you. Get this thing sealed."
     Greg put his shoulder to the hatch, helping her slam it shut, then hastily punched the
button sealing the hatch tight. "How do we keep them from opening it before we get to
the shuttle? They've got to have an override."
     "They do," Gayle confirmed. "Jane, you still got that stun baton? Thanks." She
popped the access on the hatch controls, shoved the baton's tip inside among the
circuitry, then flinched as sparks and smoke flew. "Hopefully that'll buy us a few minutes.
Let's go."
     Another dash, across the short distance remaining to the shuttle bay, while the last
families who'd made it inside hurled themselves into the nearest landers. The large man
who'd boasted of severing the control links was standing in one lander's hatch, laughing in
booming tones. "They tried to shut everything down! They couldn't! I stopped them! I finally
beat the bastards!"
      "Great," Gayle yelled. "Get in that lander and go!" She paused at the entrance to the
shuttle, punching an intercom. "All landers depart immediately. Hit the launch control. The
landers will seal their hatches and stagger their launches automatically. The landing area's
already programmed in." She glanced back. "There goes that hatch."
      Greg followed her look, watching as white hot metal flared away on all sides of the
hatch. Off to one side, he could see some of the lander hatches sliding shut with
agonizing deliberation. Then the closing airlock shut off his view and he was scrambling for
a seat along with Jane and a few other stragglers.
      The last buckle had barely been snapped when Gayle's voice sounded through the
shuttle's intercom. "They're at the airlock. Everybody better be ready, because we're out of
here!" The shuttle lurched, falling free from the _Terra_. "Okay, I see four, no, five landers
already out. There goes number six. I don't think they can stop any of them, now."
      In her seat, Jane seemed to be simultaneously laughing and sobbing. "We made it.
We're free. We're free."
      Greg stared at the shuttle's walls around him. Free? Somehow, that felt more
different than anything he'd encountered on the planet they'd soon land on.
       ***
A long plume of light strung across the night sky, as if a comet were passing close to the
planet. Greg stood silently watching that light, along with hundreds of others. The evening
breeze felt milder than during his first visit to the planet, but also colder.
     "They're leaving," Jane murmured. "They didn't even try to get us back. No promises.
No threats. They're just leaving."
     "They're probably glad to be rid of us. All the malcontents. Magetry's probably as
happy as he's ever been."
      "He can't be happy about losing the landers and all the supplies and equipment in
them."
      "It's not like he could've gotten them back. And all those supplies and equipment are
to support a colony. Our colony."
      "I guess." Jane lowered her gaze to the land around them. The wind made rushing
noises as it passed around the bulk of the landers. Someone swore and slapped at an
insect. "I hope those supplies include warmer clothes. It's a little cold."
      "Yeah. Jackets and coats." He pulled her close. "I hope this helps for now."
     "A little. What do we do now?"
      "Figure out who's in charge. We'll need some sort of leadership. Decide how to govern
ourselves. Decide if this is the best place for the colony or if we should shift the landers.
Gayle says they can lift long enough to move maybe a hundred kilometers if need be, and
we probably want to be closer to a forest so we don't have to haul lumber a long ways. Get
the lander incubators going for the animal zygotes in deep freeze -- _"_
      "Thanks, but I meant you and me when I said 'we.' Do you want to get married?"
      "Sure, as soon as -- _"_ Greg smiled. "I was going to say, as soon as we both hit
thirty. But we don't have to wait anymore, do we? That Rule's gone."
      "Like a lot of others, I'm sure. Did we do the right thing, Greg? There's maybe a
thousand of us here. Maybe a few more, but that's a lot smaller colony than the ancestors
planned on, and we're completely on our own. What'll tomorrow bring, and the day after?"
      "I don't know." He stared at her, then started laughing. "For the first time since I was
born on the _Terra_, I don't know what tomorrow will bring. I don't know what I'll see. Isn't
it great?"
     She laughed, too, and hugged him. "Yeah. But I know one thing tomorrow will bring
for sure."
     "What's that?"
     "I'm going to find some more rocks. I've got a lot to learn about this world our kids are
going to inherit."


Copyright (C) 2002 by John G. Hemry.