To The Stars

The ceremony was brief but affectionate, different from any other they had witnessed because of the all-male audience. The questions were asked and the answers given, their hands joined together, their lives joined as well when the rings were brought forward. A toast was drunk by all present and the deed was done. But it was a single toast since time was pressing. Their honeymoon would be on the rolling trains.

Through the mountain range and into the eternal blasting heat of the tropical sun. They made better time than they had on the outward trip, for the Road was clear and they were lightly loaded. The tank crews stayed far ahead and the only difficulty was crossing the drowned section of Road. The empty cars had a tendency to float and had to be brought over one by one with an engine at each end. The only ones who did not mind the delay were Jan and Alzbeta, who were forbidden to help in the operation and were ordered to remain inside their car. It was the only wedding present that the hardworking men could give them and was appreciated all the more.

Once the water was passed the Road was clear again — though never empty of danger. The never-setting sun now had a brassy color to it and there was an ominous haze in the air.

“What is it?” Alzbeta asked. “What is wrong?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Jan said.

They were driving again, driver and co-driver of one of the engines. This way they were together all of the time, work periods and sleep periods. They did not mind; in fact they reveled in the pleasure of their companionship. To Alzbeta it was the final satisfaction of her existence as a woman. For Jan, the end of loneliness. But this was not a world to allow unlimited peace and happiness.

“Dust,” Jan said, squinting out at the sky. “And I can think of only one place it could come from. I think, but I can’t be sure.

“Where?”

“Volcanic action. When volcanoes erupt they hurl dust high into the atmosphere where the winds bring it right around the planet. I only hope this eruption was nowhere near the Road.”

It was closer than they liked. Within twenty hours the tanks sent back word of an active volcano on the horizon. The jungle here was burnt and dead, while the Road was thick with great chunks of scoria and heavy with dust. They were working to clear a way through. The trains soon caught up with them.

“It’s… horrible,” Alzbeta said, looking out on the blackened landscape and the drifting clouds of smoke and dust.

“If this is the worst we hit, we are all right,” Jan told

They crawled at minimum speed when they passed the volcano, for the Road could not be kept completely clear, and they crept through the constantly falling debris. The volcano was no more than ten kilometers from the Road, still active, wreathed in clouds of smoke and steam which were lit by red flashes and gouts of lava.

“In a way I’m a little surprised that we have not had this kind of trouble before,” Jan said. “It must have taken an awful lot of artificial earthquakes to build the Road. That’s a matter of record. And the energy it takes to start an eruption is only the tiniest part of the energy that is released. The builders knew their business and did not leave until the seismic processes were reduced. But there can be no guarantee that they are all ended. As we can see out there.” He looked out gloomily at the volcano, now dropping behind them.

“But it’s over,” she said. “We’re through.”

Jan did not want to erase her happy smile by reminding her that there would have to be a return trip. Better the happiness of the hour.

Then they came to the scorched farmlands and the immense silos baking under the relentless sun. Loading the corn began, a slow process because of the limited number of coldsuits. Nevertheless the work was continuous, one man taking over when the other ended his shift, putting a newly-charged powerpack into the coldsuit, careful not to touch the burning metal of the external fittings. Out into the heat to swing the discharge hose over the opening in a car roof, to fill it to overflowing. The car was moved on, the hole sealed, another appeared below. The Road was knee-deep in corn for they made no attempt to be careful; speed was more important than neatness. More corn would be left to burn than they could carry away. When the last train was being filled, Jan consulted with Semenov.

“I’m taking the tanks out now. But I’m worried about the section of Road that passes the volcano.”

“You’ll clear it easily enough.”

“I’m not concerned about that. The volcanic activity seems to have died down. But we did have that big quake some days ago. If we could feel it here, how must it be that much closer? The Road itself may be damaged. I want a good lead time.”

Semenov nodded reluctant agreement. “I just hope that you are wrong.

“So do I. I’ll report back as soon as I get there.”