The Mote in God's Eye

“Uncle Ben, I’m glad to see you!” Sally pushed herself away before he crushed a rib. Then, with mock anger: “You’ve been rearranging my life! Did you know that radiogram would make Rod propose to me?”

Senator Fowler looked puzzled. “You mean he hadn’t already?” He pretended to examine Rod with microscopic care. “He looks normal enough. Must be internal damage. How are you, Rod? You look good, boy.” He enfolded Rod’s hand in his own. His grip was strong enough to hurt. With his left hand Fowler extracted his pocket computer from beneath the disreputable folds of his thick coat. “Sorry to rush kids, but we’re late. Come on, come on—” He turned and darted for the elevator, leaving them to follow helplessly.

They went down twelve floors and Fowler led them around twists of corridors. Marines stood guard outside a door. “Inside, inside,” the Senator urged. “Can’t keep all those admirals and captains waiting. Come on, Rod!”

The Marines saluted and Rod absently responded. He entered in bewilderment: a large room, paneled in dark wood, with an enormous marble table across its length.

Five captains and two admirals were seated at the table. A legal officer sat at a smaller desk, and there were places for a recorder and clerks. As soon as Rod entered someone intoned, “This Court of Inquiry is now in session. Step forward and be sworn. State your name.”

“Your name, Captain,” the Admiral at the center of the table snapped. Rod didn’t recognize him; he knew only half the officers in the room. “You do know your name, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir— Admiral, I wasn’t told I was coming directly to a Court of Inquiry.”

“You know it now. Please state your name.”

“Roderick Harold, Lord Blaine, Captain, Imperial Space Navy; formerly master aboard INS MacArthur.”

“Thank you.”

They shot questions at him. “Captain, when did you first learn that the miniature aliens were capable of using tools and performing useful work?” “Captain, please describe the sterilization procedures you employed.” “Captain, in your judgment, did the aliens outside the ship ever know you had miniatures loose aboard your vessel?”

He answered as best he could. Sometimes one officer would ask a question, only to have another say, “That’s in the report, damn it. Didn’t you listen to the tapes?”

The inquiry moved at blinding speed. Suddenly it was over. “You may retire for the moment, Captain,” the presiding Admiral said.

Sally and Senator Fowler were waiting in the hall. There was a young woman in kilts with a businesslike brief case standing with them.

“Miss McPherson. My new social secretary,” Sally introduced her.

“Very pleased to meet you, my lord. My lady, I had best be—”

“Certainly. Thank you.” McPherson left with a click of heels on marble floors. She had a nice walk. “Rod,” Sally said. “Rod, do you know how many parties we’ve got to go to?”

“Parties! My God, woman, they’re deciding my fate in there and you—”

“Nonsense,” Senator Fowler snapped. “That was decided weeks ago. When Merrill, Cranston, Armstrong, and I listened to Kutuzov’s report. There I was, your appointment from His Majesty in my pocket, and you’d gone and lost your ship! It’s a good thing your Admiral’s an honest man, boy. Damn good thing.”

The door opened. “Captain Blaine?” a clerk called.

He entered to stand in front of the table. The Admiral held up a paper and cleared his throat.

“Unanimous findings of a special Court of Inquiry convened to examine the circumstances surrounding the loss of His Imperial Majesty’s General Class battle cruiser MacArthur. One. This Court finds that the vessel was lost through accidental infestation by alien life forms and was properly destroyed to prevent contamination of other vessels. Two. This Court honorably acquits her master, Captain Roderick Blaine, ISN, of negligence. Three. This Court orders the surviving officers of MacArthur to prepare a detailed report of procedures whereby such losses can be prevented in future. Four. This Court notes that the search and sterilization of MacArthur was hindered by the presence of a large number of civilian scientists and their equipment property aboard, and that Minister Anthony Horvath, senior scientist, protested the sterilization and advised minimum disruption of the civilian experiments. Five. This Court notes that Captain Blaine would have been more diligent in searching his vessel except for the difficulties noted in point four; and this court recommends no reprimand for her master. These findings being unanimous, this Court is adjourned. Captain, you may go.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Yeah. That was pretty sloppy, Blaine. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” My God, how many times have I thought about it?

“But I doubt if anyone in the Navy could have done better. The ship must have been a madhouse with all those civilians aboard. All right, Senator, he’s all yours. They’re ready in Room 675.”