Chapter 11

Resealing the cellar, they carried the box back to Jason’s new office. Only after spraying with decontaminant, did they examine it closely. Meta picked out engraved letters on the lid.

“S. T. POLLUX VICTORY--that must be the name of the spacer this log came from. But I don’t recognize the class, or whatever it is the initials S. T. stand for.”

“Stellar Transport,” Jason told her, as he tried the lock mechanism. “I’ve heard of them but I’ve never seen one. They were built during the last wave of galactic expansion. Really nothing more than gigantic metal containers, put together in space. After they were loaded with people, machinery and supplies, they would be towed to whatever planetary system had been chosen. These same tugs and one-shot rockets would brake the S. T.’s in for a landing. Then leave them there. The hull was a ready source of metal and the colonists could start right in building their new world. And they were big. All of them held at least fifty thousand people...”

Only after he said it, did he realize the significance of his words. Meta’s deadly stare drove it home. There were now less people on Pyrrus than had been in the original settlement.

And human population, without rigid birth controls, usually increased geometrically. Jason dinAlt suddenly remembered Meta’s itchy trigger finger.

“But we can’t be sure how many people were aboard this one,” he said hurriedly. “Or even if this is the log of the ship that settled Pyrrus. Can you find something to pry this open with? The lock is corroded into a single lump.”

Meta took her anger out on the box. Her fingers managed to force a gap between lid and bottom. She wrenched at it. Rusty metal screeched and tore. The lid came off in her hands and a heavy book thudded to the table.

The cover legend destroyed all doubt.

LOG OF S. T. POLLUX VICTORY. OUTWARD BOUND--SETANI TO PYRRUS. 55,000

SETTLERS ABOARD.

Meta couldn’t argue now. She stood behind Jason with tight-clenched fists and read over his shoulder as he turned the brittle, yellowed pages. He quickly skipped through the opening part that covered the sailing preparations and trip out. Only when he had reached the actual landing did he start reading slowly. The impact of the ancient words leaped out at him.

“Here it is,” Jason shouted. “Proof positive that we’re on the right trail. Even you will have to admit that. Read it, right here.”

_ ... Second day since the tugs left, we are completely on our own

now. The settlers still haven’t grown used to this planet, though we

have orientation talks every night. As well as the morale agents who

I have working twenty hours a day. I suppose I really can’t blame

the people, they all lived in the underways of Setani and I doubt if