Without hope, without dreams, we have no future.
—Abraham Lee. Colonist.
"The side-boosters are flaring," said Abret, as Kretz dived into his seat. "Tell her we're nearly there! She's got to stop the sequence. Abort! Abort! ABORT!"
And then as Abret flung the ship into a skidding landing on the end surface of the last habitat . . .
It was too late.
Their hopes of ever returning home were a shrinking speck.
Howard was the first to get out of his seat. The two aliens were keening gently. He looked out of the forward windows. All he could see were some mounds of white stuff and a gaping opening where the airlock should be. Some of the metal walkways were also hanging—as if torn aside by some tremendous force. There was no sign of anything that could be an alien spaceship.
"What happened here?" said Lani coming up behind him.
"Their ship must have gone without them," he said quietly.
"And there?" Lani pointed at the ruined lock.
"It appears that the last habitat . . . is not a habitat any more."
"What do you think happened?" she asked.
"I don't know," Howard admitted. "Could anyone survive that?"
"I doubt it. They probably died fast, anyway. Well, Kretz doesn't need to worry about invasion any more."
Howard was silenced by it. How many humans, no matter how evil, had died there? "Do you think she did it on purpose?"
Lani shrugged. "I would have."
It was a horrific thought. Howard wondered what decision he would have made. His species against a single act of genocide?
Kretz stood up. "Go back to your seats, please," he said in a curiously flat voice. "We must take you back to your homes."
"But what are you going to do, Kretz?" asked Lani, taking his arm and ignoring the request to return to her seat.
Kretz shrugged. It was a very human gesture, and a very sad one.
"What can we do? Abret and I have not enough hormone supplements, food, or a ship that could reach our home. I suppose we will complete such research as we can and see if we can launch the lifecraft toward Miran." He pointed at the distant double star. "I think then we will choose a quick death," he said.
Howard had come to stand between the two aliens. He put an arm around Kretz's shoulders, and a hand onto Abret.
"You will always have a place with us," he said quietly.
"We'll even cope with super-PMS," said Lani. "And at least there are two of you."
Kretz shook his head. "Brother Howard. I did not know what brother meant, in the deeper sense of the word, when I was in your habitat. I know now. But it cannot work. Miran must go home to breed. It was that, rather than anything else that drove Selna to this desperate, doomed, illogical step. I thank you—because we are brothers across the species line, across space, across evolution. But it cannot be."
Howard squeezed his shoulder. "Then we'll have to send you home. We don't abandon our brothers either."
Kretz smiled. It was a slight, tragic smile, as Howard judged these things. "I do not believe that even the people of Icarus could build us another ship."
Howard grinned at him. "There is another answer. I believe, from what Amber was telling me—that we have five months until the final habitat is launched, to rehabilitate it. We'll send you and Abret home in it."
The two Miran looked at him, uncomprehending.
"This is a spacecraft too." Howard pointed to the bulk of the habitat below them. "It's programmed to reach your system. When one door closes another opens. Knock and it shall be opened unto you."
Kretz looked at Abret. Abret looked back at Kretz. "I think he means we have to repair the airlock," said Abret, slowly. "One door closes there before another opens. Humans have odd ways of saying things, but you get quite used to them."
Lani shook her head. "You and the uThani. Now, lets get this tub moving. To Icarus, I think. I thought it was all over but I think that now we need to consult Amber and her girlfriend and the clever box of tricks."