A man came to New Europe from Normandy in the early days and built himself a house on the sea cliffs. Steeply fell the land, with golden trees and ripples of wind : through grasses and wildflowers, until it made its sudden downward plunge: a country of hills that shouldered into the sky, which was clangorous with birds, of glens, lakes, waterfalls, and eastward a salt blueness edged only by the curve of the world. In those times he had little to work with save native wood and stone; he chose them for beauty. The house he fashioned lifted gables like outlined mountains. Within there were spacious rooms, _carved wainscoting, great fireplaces, rafters so high that they were often lost in shadows. Broad windows opened upon the land, of which the house had become another part. And the man built well, as folk do who see themselves only one link in a chain of generations.
But Bonne Chance grew from hamlet to city a hundred kilometers south. Colonists sought more the valleys than the heights. Though this dwelling was not distant when one could fly, the man’s heirs moved where wealth and people were. The house stood long empty.
It did not suffer much. Strong and patient, it waited. The time came at last, and it was made a gift of honor.
Rear Admiral Moshe Peretz, commanding blastship Jupiter, Deepspace Fleet of Earth’s World Federation, set his borrowed flyer down on the landing strip and went out. A fresh breeze swayed the nearby garden, clouds ran white, sunlight speared between them to dance on a restless ocean. He walked slowly, a short man, very erect in his uniform, with combat ribbons on his breast that freed him to admire a view or a blossom.
Gunnar Heim came out to welcome him, also in uniform: but his was different, gray tunic, a red stripe down the trousers, a fleur-de-lis on the collar. He towered over his guest, bent down a face that had known much sun of late, grinned in delight, and engulfed the other man’s hand in one huge paw. “Hey, Moshe, it’s good to see you again! How many years?”
“Hello,” Peretz said.
Heim released him, stung and surprised. “Uh … anything wrong?”
“I am all right, thank you. This is a nice home you have.”
“Needs a lot of work yet, after all the neglect, but I like it. Want to see the grounds before we go in?”
“If you wish.”
Heim stood for a moment before he sighed and said, “Okay, Moshe. Obviously you accepted my dinner invitation for more reasons than to jaw with your old Academy classmate. Want to discuss ’em now? There’ll be some others coming pretty soon.”
Peretz regarded him closely, out of brown eyes that were pained, and said, “Yes, let us get it over with.”
They started walking across the lawn. “Look at the matter from my side,” Peretz said. “Thanks to you, Earth went action. We beat the Aleriona decisively in the Marches, “and now they have sued for peace. Wonderful. I was proud know you. I pulled every wire in sight so that I could command the ship that went officially to see how New Europe doing, how Earth could help reconstruct, what sort of memorial we should raise for the dead of both planets—because victory was not cheap, Gunnar.”
“Haven’t your men been well treated?” Heim asked.
Yes, certainly.” Peretz sliced the air with his hand, as if chopping at a neck. “Every liberty party has been wined and dined till it could hardly stagger back to the tender. But … I issued those passes most reluctantly, only because I did not want to make a bad situation worse. After all—when we find this planet ringed with defense machines—machines which are not going to be decommissioned—when a ship of World Federation is told how near she may come—what do you expect a Navy man to think?”
Heim bit his lip. “Ja. That was a mistake, ordering you around. I argued against it in council, but they outvoted me. I give you my oath no insult was intended, not by anyone. The majority feeling was simply that we’d better express our sovereignty at the outset. Once the precedent has been accepted, we’ll relax.”
“But why?” His rage flickered to death, leaving Peretz no more than hurt and bewildered. “This fantastic declaration of independence … what kind of armed forces have you? Your fleet can’t amount to more than your own old privateer and perhaps a few Aleriona prizes. Otherwise there is just the constabulary. What strength can half a million people muster?”
“Are you threatening us, Moshe?” Heim asked gently.
“What?” Peretz jarred to a stop and gaped. “What do you mean?”
“Is Earth going to reconquer us? You could, of course. It’d be bloody and expensive, but you could.”
“No—no—did the occupation drive everyone here paranoid?”
Heim shook his head. “On the contrary, we rely on Earth’s, good will and sense. We expect you to protest, but we know you won’t use force. Not when your planet and ours have so lately shed blood together.”
“But … see here. If you want national status, well, that concerns mainly yourselves and the French government. But you say you are leaving the whole Federation!”
“We are,” Heim answered. “Juridically, at least. We hope to make mutually beneficial treaties with Earth as a whole, and we’ll always stand in a special relationship to France. In fact, President de Vigny thinks France won’t object at all, will let us go with her blessings.”
“M-m-m … I am afraid he is right,” said Peretz grimly. He began walking again, stiff-gaited. “France is still rather cool toward the Federation. She won’t leave it herself, but she will be glad to have you do so for her, as long as French interests are not damaged.”
“She’ll get over her grudge,” Heim predicted.
“Yes, in time. Did you break loose for the same cause?”
Heim shrugged. “To a certain extent, no doubt. The Conference of Chateau St. Jacques was one monstrous emotional scene, believe me. The plebiscite was overwhelmingly in favor of independence. But there were better reasons than a feeling of having been let down in an hour of need. Those are the ones that’ll last.”
“De Vigny tried to convince me,” Peretz snorted.
“Well, let me try in less elegant language. What is the Federation? Something holy, or an instrument for a purpose? We think it’s a plain old instrument, and that it can’t serve its purpose out here.”
“Gunnar, Gunnar, have you forgotten all history? Do you know what a breakup would mean?”
“War,” Heim nodded. “But the Federation isn’t going to die. With all its faults, it’s proved itself too good for Earth to scrap. Earth’s a single planet, though. You can orbit it in ninety minutes. The nations live cheek by jowl. They’ve got to unify, or they’ll kill each other.” His gaze swept the horizon. “Here we have more room.”
“But—”
“The universe is too big for any one pattern. No man can understand or control it, let alone a government. The proof is right at hand. We had to trick and tease and browbeat the Federation into doing what we could see, with our own eyes, was necessary—because it didn’t see. It wasn’t able to see. If man is going to live throughout the galaxy, he’s got to be free to take his own roads, the ones his direct experience shows him are best for his circumstances. And that way, won’t the race realize all its potential? Is there any other way we can, than by trying everything out, everywhere?” Heim clapped Peretz’s back. “I know. You’re afraid of interstellar wars in the future, if planets are sovereign. Don’t worry. It’s ridiculous. What do entire, self-sufficient, isolated worlds have to fight about?”
“We just finished an interstellar war,” Peretz said.
“Uh-huh. What brought it on? Somebody who wasn’t willing to let the human race develop as it should. Moshe, instead of trying .to freeze ourselves into one shape, instead of staying small because we’re scared of losing control, let’s work out something different. Let’s find how many kinds of society, human and non-human, can get along without a policeman’s gun pointed at them. I don’t think there is any limit.”
“Well—” Peretz shook his head. “Maybe. I hope you are right. Because you have committed .us, blast you.” He spoke without animosity.
After a minute: “I must confess I felt better when President de Vigny apologized officially for keeping our ship at arm’s length.”
“You have my personal apologies,” Heim said low.
“All right!” Peretz thrust out his hand, features crinkled with abrupt laughter. “Accepted and forgotten, you damned old squarehead.”
His trouble lifted from Heim, too. “Great!” he exclaimed.
“Come on inside and we’ll buckle down to getting drunk. Lord, how much yarning we’ve got to catch up on!”
They entered the living room and settled themselves. A maid curtsied. “What’ll you have?” Heim asked. “Some items of food are still in short supply, and of course machinery’s scarce, which is why I employ so many live servants. But these Frenchmen built big wine cellars.”
“Brandy and soda, thanks,” Peretz said.
“Me too. We are out of Scotch on New Europe. Uh will there be cargoes from Earth soon?”
Peretz nodded. “Some are already on the way. Parliament will scream when I report what you have done, and there will be talk of an embargo, but you know that won’t come to anything. If we aren’t going to fight, to hold you against your will, it is senseless to antagonize you with annoyances.”
“Which bears out what I said.” Heim put the drink orders into French.
“Please, don’t argue any more. I told you I have accepted your fait accompli.” Peretz leaned forward. “But may I ask something, Gunnar? I see why New Europe did what it did. But you yourself—You could have come home, been a world hero, and a billionaire with your prize money. Instead you take citizenship here—well, blaze, they are nice people,. but they aren’t yours!”
“They are now,” Heim said quietly.
He took out his pipe and tamped it full. His words ran on, almost of themselves:
“Mixed motives, as usual. I had to stay till the war was over. There was a lot of fighting, and afterward somebody must mount guard. And … well … I’d been lonely on Earth. Here I found a common purpose with a lot of absolutely first-class men. And a whole new world, elbow room, infinite possibilities. It dawned on me one day, when I was feeling homesick—what was I homesick for? To go back and rot among my dollars?
“So now, instead, I’m New Europe’s minister of space and the navy. We’re short of hands, training, equipment, everything; you name it and we probably haven’t got it. But I can see us grow, day by day. And that’s my doing!”
He struck fire and puffed. “Not that I intend to stay in government any longer than necessary,” he went on. “I want to experiment with pelagic farming; and prospect the other planets and asteroids in this system; and start a merchant spaceship yard; and—shucks, I can’t begin to tell you how much there is. I can’t wait to become a private citizen again.”
“But you do wait,” Peretz said.
“Heim looked out a window at sea and sun and sky. “Well,” he said, “it’s worth some sacrifice. There’s more involved than this world. We’re laying the foundations of—he hunted for words—“admiralty. Man’s, throughout the universe.”
The maid came in with her tray. Heim welcomed her not only for refreshment, but as an excuse to change the subject.
He wasn’t much of a talker on serious matters. A man did what he must; that sufficed.
The girl ducked her head. “Un voleur s’apgroche, monsieur,” she reported.
“Good,” Heim said. “That’ll be Endre Vadász and his wife. You’ll like them, Moshe. He was the man who really bailed us out of this mess. Now he’s giving his Magyar genes full rein on a 10,000-hectare ranch in the Bordes Valley—and he’s still one solar flare of a singer.”
“I look forward.” Peretz followed the maid’s departure with an appreciative eye. “Do you know, Gunnar,” he murmured, “I observe a very sound reason for you to stay here. The proportion of pretty girls on New Europe is fabulous, and every one of them seems to idolize you.”
A brief bleakness crossed Heim’s eyes. “I’m afraid the mores here are a little different from Earth’s. Oh, well.” He raised his glass. “Skål.”
“Shalom.”
Both men got up when the Vadászes entered. “Bienvenu,” Heim said, shook his friend’s hand with gladness, and kissed Danielle’s. By now he’d learned how to do that with authority.
It was a surprise, he thought as he looked at her, how fast a certain wound was healing. Life isn’t a fairy tale; the knight who kills the dragon doesn’t necessarily get the princess. So what? Who’d want to live in a cosmos less rich and various than the real one? You commanded yourself as you did a ship—with discipline, reasonableness, and spirit—and thus you came to port. By the time he fulfilled his promise to stand godfather to her firstborn, why, his feelings toward her would be downright avuncular.
No, he realized with a sudden quickening of blood, it wouldn’t even take that long. The war was over. He could send for Lisa. He had little doubt that Jocelyn would come along.