She turned to him. "That's just a rationalization and you know it. You say it's important because it's what you want to do."
"Maybe. But that doesn't change a thing. Maybe history is the result of huge massive forces that push people around like pawns. Maybe it's the result of scared, lone individuals who're driven to pull the whole goddamned human race along with them. I don't know and I don't care. I'm going to the Moon. The rest of you will have to figure things out the best you can."
"And you're leaving all this behind?"
He looked out at the sprawling city. "What's to leave? This whole planet's turning into an overcrowded slum. If we do get into World War Three it won't be because of a few thousand people living in space. It'll be because six or seven billion people are stuck here on the ground."
"But those people are worth righting for!" Diane said. "We have to struggle for social Justice and freedom here, on this world. We can't run away!"
"I'm not running away, Diane. I'm helping you. I'm on your side, honest I am. I'll be sending you back all the energy and natural resources you need for your struggle. I'll be helping those poor people to become rich. And I'll send you back some new ideas about how to live in freedom, too."
She shook her head. "You're hopeless."
"I know. We both decided that a long time ago."
"You're really going to the Moon. In spite of every- thing."
"Because of everything. Want to come along?"
"Me?" She looked startled.
"Sure. Why not? You could be the first woman to give birth on another world."
"No, thanks! I'll stay right here."
"Then we'll never see each other again," Kinsman said. The sadness of it, the finality of it, left him feeling hollow, empty-
With a knowing look Diane said, "Oh, you'll be back, Chet. Don't get dramatic. You won't stay up there forever. Nobody could. You'll be back."
But his eyes were focused beyond her, on the window at her back. Through its narrow aperture he could see the full Moon topping the hazy horizon, smiling crookedly at him.
"Don't bet your life on it," he said.
BOOK 2
MILLENNIUM
It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live.
—Marcus Aurelius
To Barbara, with all my love
Wednesday 1 December 1999:
0900 hrs UT
THE DIGITAL CLOCK on Kinsman's desk said nine. Not that the arbitrary time made any physical difference in the under- ground community. Up on the surface of the Moon it was sundown, the beginning of a night that would last three hundred thirty-six hours. But here, safely underground, a man-made day was just beginning in the community called Selene.
