Ben Bova - Exiles 1 - Exiled from Earth.pdf - Ben Bova - margozap

Ben Bova - (Exiles Trilogy 01) Exiled From Earth v0.6 (1971).html

In alphabetical order:

To Gordon R. Dickson and Harlan Ellison

with thanks and caritas.

The General Chairman paced across the soft carpeting of his office, hands clasped behind his slightly stooped back. He

stopped at the wide sweep of windows that overlooked the city.

There was little of Old Messina to be seen. The original city of ancient churches and chalk-white houses bleaching in the

fierce Sicilian sunlight had been all but swallowed up by the metal and glass towers of the world government—offices,

assembly halls, hotels and residence buildings, shops and entertainment centers for the five million men and women who

governed the world's twenty-some billions.

In his air-conditioned, soundproofed office atop the tallest of all the towers, the General Chairman could not hear the shrill

voices of the crowded streets below, nor the constant growl of cars and turbotrucks on the busy throughways.

At least we saved some of the old city, he thought. It had been one of his first successes in world politics. A small thing.

But he had helped to stop the growth of the New Messina before it completely choked and killed the old city. The new city

had remained the same size for nearly thirty years now.

Beyond the fishing boats at the city's waterfront, the Straits sparkled invitingly under the sun. And beyond that, the tip of

Italy's boot, Calabria, where the peasants still prided themselves on their hard-headed stubbornness. And beyond the misty

blue hills of Calabria, shimmering in the heat haze, the sterner blue of the sky was almost too bright to look at.

The old man knew it was impossible, but he thought he saw the glint of one of the big orbital stations hovering in that

brilliant sky. He worked a forefinger and thumb against the

bridge of his nose. It was one of those days when he felt his years.

He thought about his native Sao Paulo, how it spread like a festering sore all the way from the river to the sea, flattening

hills, carving away the forest, bursting with so many people that not even the Population Control Center's computers could

keep track of them. No sane man would willingly enter the heart of Sao Paulo, or any large city on Earth. No human being

could live in the teeming guts of a city and keep his sanity.

How hard they had worked to save the cities! How hard they had worked tp make the world safe and stable.

And now this.

The desk top intercom chimed.

"Yes?" The Chairman automatically switched from the Portuguese of his thoughts to the English of the world government.

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Ben Bova - (Exiles Trilogy 01) Exiled From Earth v0.6 (1971).html

His secretary sensed his mood. Her face was somber instead of showing its usual cheerfulness. "They're here, sir."

Nodding, "Very well. Send them in."

Six men and two women filed into the spacious office and took seats at the conference table. The women sat together up at

the end closest to the windows, next to the head chair. They carried no papers, no briefcases. Each place at the table had a

tiny intercom and viewscreen that linked with the central computer.

They are young and vital, thought the Chairman. They know what must be done and they have the strength to do it. As soon

as all this is settled, I shall retire.

Reluctantly he took his place at the head of the glistening mahogany table. The others remained silent, waiting for him to

speak. The only sound was the faintest whir of the computer's recording spool.

He cleared his throat. "Good morning. Last Monday we discussed this situation and you made your recommendation. I

asked you to consider possible alternatives. From the looks on your faces, it seems that no suitable alternative has been

found."

They all turned to the stocky, round-faced Minister of Security, Vassily Kobryn. He had the look of an athlete to him:

tanned skin, short, wiry brown hair, big in the shoulders and arms.

Shifting in his chair self-consciously, Kobryn said, "I see I

have-been elected the hatchet man." His voice was deep and strong, with barely a trace of a Slavic accent. "All right... it

was my idea, originally. We looked at all the possibilities and ran each case on the computers. The only safe way is to put

them in exile. Permanently."

"Siberia," one of the women muttered.

"No, not Siberia." Kobryn took her literally. "It's too heavily populated. Too many cities and dome farms for an effective

exile. No, the only place is the new space station. It's large enough and it can be kept completely isolated."

Rolf Bernard, the M inister of Finance, shook his head. "I still disagree. Two thousand of the world's leading scientists..."

"Plus their wives and families," the Chairman added.

"What would you prefer?" Kobryn snapped. "A bullet in each of their heads? Or would you leave them alone and let them

smash everything that we have worked for?"

"Perhaps if we talked with them..."

"That won't work," said Eric Mottern, the taciturn Minister of Technology. "Even if they tried to cooperate with us, you

can't stop ideas from leaking out. And once this genetic engineering idea gets loose..."

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Ben Bova - (Exiles Trilogy 01) Exiled From Earth v0.6 (1971).html

"The world is turned upside down," the Chairman said. He spoke softly, but everyone heard him. With a sigh, he

confessed, "I have also been thinking about the problem. I have also tried to find alternatives. There are none. Exile is the

only permissible answer."

"Then it is agreed. Good!" said Kobryn.

"No, not good," the General Chairman said. "Very far from good. When we do this thing, we admit failure. We admit

fear—yes, terror. We are terrified of a new idea, a new scientific discovery. The government of the world, the protectors of

peace and stability, must stoop to exiling some of the world's finest minds. This is a horrible state of affairs. Truly

horrible."

Lou Christopher leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk: his favorite position for thinking. In his lap he

held a small tablet and a pen. Although he was both worried and puzzled, his face showed neither of these emotions. He

was frowning and looked more angry than anything else.

Through the plastiglass partition that made up one wall of his small office, Lou could see Ramo, the Institute's main

computer, flashing its console lights as it worked.

"Come on, Ramo," he muttered to himself, "get it right this time."

Lou tapped the pen on the tablet and watched the little viewscreen on his desk. It was blank. Then...

"I'm sorry," Ramo said in a warm baritone voice from the overhead speaker, "but the possible permutations are still three

orders of magnitude beyond my programming instructions."

"Three orders!"

"I can proceed with the existing matrix, or await further programming." Ramo's voice sounded neither worried nor

puzzled. Not happy nor angry. He was simply stating facts.

Lou tossed the pen back onto the desk and slammed his feet to the floor. The tablet fell off his lap.

"Still three orders of magnitude to go. Lou shook his head, then glanced at his wristwatch. It was already nine A.M.

"I'm waiting for instructions," Ramo said calmly. You and your instructions can both... Lou caught himself, realizing that

the computer wasn't at fault. There were millions upon millions of branching pathways in the human genetic code. It was

simply going to take more time to get them all programmed properly.

Shrugging, he said, "Okay, Ramo, looks like we've got a full day ahead of us."

Ramo said nothing, but somehow Lou felt that the computer nodded in agreement.

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Ben Bova - (Exiles Trilogy 01) Exiled From Earth v0.6 (1971).html

Lou got up and walked out of the office, past the computer's humming, light-blinking main console, out into the hall. He

got a cup of water from the cooler, gulped it down as he looked out the hallway window at the New Mexico morning

outside. It had been barely dawn when Lou drove to the Institute. Now it was full daylight, bright and cloudless.

Half the gliders have already taken off, Lou thought glumly. I just won't make this race. Better call Bonnie.

Tossing the plastic cup into the recycling slot in the wall, Lou went back to his office, plopped tiredly into his cushioned

chair, and punched the phone button on the desk top.

"Bonnie Sterne," he said. "She's not at home, you'll have to use her pocket phone."

It took a few seconds, then Bonnie's face appeared on the viewscreen. Behind her, Lou could see people bustling around in

a crowded room. She must be in the Control Center, Lou thought. Sure enough, he heard the muted thunder of one of the

big gliders' takeoff rockets.

"Lou! When are you getting out here? I've asked the judges to postpone your takeoff time, but..."

He put up his hands. "Better tell them to scratch me. Can't make it today. Probably not tomorrow, either."

"Oh no." Bonnie looked genuinely heartbroken. She was blonde and had light gray eyes, but the finely-etched bone

structure of her face always reminded Lou faintly of an Indian's. Maybe it was the high cheekbones, or the cast of her eyes.

Maybe she had some Apache blood in her. Lou had always meant to ask but somehow never did.

"Isn't there any way you can get out of it?" she asked. "Can't some of the other programmers do it?"

Lou shook his head. "You know they can't. I'm just as sorry as you are. I've been working toward this race all year. But

Kaufman needs this stuff by Monday. The whole Institute's depending on it."

"I know," Bonnie admitted, biting her lower lip. Lou knew that she was trying to figure some way—

"Listen!" she said, suddenly bright again. "Why don't I come

down and work with you? Maybe we can finish the programming in time for taking off tomorrpw—"

"Thanks, but there's not much you can do. It looks like I'll have to work all night, at least. So I won't be in much shape for

flying tomorrow."

Her expression dimmed once more. "It's just not fair. You have to work all weekend... and this is the biggest race of the

year."

"I know. But genetics comes before racing," Lou said. "You have a good weekend. See you Monday."

"All right. But it's really unfair."

"Yeah. So long."

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Ben Bova - (Exiles Trilogy 01) Exiled From Earth v0.6 (1971).html

"So... oh, wait! There was a man out here looking for you. Said he was a Federal marshal."

Lou blinked at her. "A what?"

"A Federal marshal. He wanted to see you."

"What for?"

Bonnie shook her head. "I thought marshals were only something in Western stories."

With a grin, Lou said, "Well, we're out in the West, you know."

"But he said he was from New York."

Shrugging, "Well, if he's looking for me, I'll be right here all day."

"If he comes around again, I'll tell him."

"All right." Suddenly curious, Lou asked, "Did he say what he wanted? Why does he want to see me?"

"I don't know," Bonnie replied.

After Bonnie signed off, Lou plunged back into work, doing intricate mathematics problems with Ramo's help and then

programming the results into the computer's memory banks. When he looked at his watch again, it was well past noon. He

walked down to the cafeteria and took a sandwich and a steaming cup of coffee from the automatic dispensers. The

cafeteria was practically empty: only a few of the weekend clean-up crew at the tables.

The scientific staffs out enjoying the weekend,—Lou grumbled to himself. Well, guess they can't do much until I finish

programming Ramo.

He took the plastic-sealed sandwich and coffee back to his office. As he got there, he saw Greg Belsen standing by the

computer's main console, watching the big display viewscreen there as it flashed a series of colored drawings and graphs at

eyeblink speed.

"What are you doing in here today?" Lou asked.

Greg turned and grinned at him. "Thought you might be lonesome, old buddy, How's it going?"

Lou jabbed a finger toward the viewscreen. "See for yourself. We're still three orders of magnitude off."

Greg gave a low whistle. "That close?"

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Ben Bova - Exiles 1 - Exiled from Earth.pdf

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