“We synthesize all the medicines we need.”

“Oh sure you do. Certainly,” Douglas sneered. “But how many people in the settlement are too brittle-boned to make the trip to Earth? How many of your own men are going to suffer sunstroke because they don’t have enough melanin pigmentation in their skin? That’s a beautiful burn you’ve got on the back of your neck, by the way.”

Alec was starting to feel confused. “But those are hereditary traits. Medicine can’t...”

“Exactly!” Douglas pounced. “What about the four or five people each year who die of cancer in the settlement? Huh?”

Bewildered, Alec replied, “Cancer’s unavoidable... everybody knows that.”

“Oh it is, is it?” Douglas glanced over at Will, then turned back to Alec. “It happens that cancer-arresting drugs were being manufactured on Earth before the sky burned.”

“They were?”

Douglas nodded. “And the incidence of cancer in the settlement is rising at a rate of five percent a year. In another generation or two... pfft!” He snapped his fingers.

“No!”

“I calculated it out myself. Cancer, birth defects, other genetic diseases—they’re all on the rise in the settlement. Because of inbreeding. Before the sky burned, the inbreeding effect was masked because there was a constant flow of people coming and going from Earthside. But among the people who had lived on the Moon for years and intermarried, the hereditary effects were already starting to show up. Now that you’ve cut yourselves off from Earth, the genetic pool of the lunar community just isn’t big enough to be viable.”

“That can’t be true.”

“Can’t it be? Do you think the computers tell lies? They don’t. They have no pity. They don’t care what you want the answer to be, they simply chug away at the problem and tell you what the answer is.”

“I can’t believe that,” Alec said. “The answer you get depends on the data you put in...”

Douglas shrugged ponderously. “The data I put in was the medical records of the long-term lunar residents. The settlement is dying. It’s too small and inbred to survive. Oh sure, maybe you’ll get along for another generation or so... say, about fifty years. But I doubt it. There were already a lot of visible strains when I left. I’ll bet there’s a lot more tension in the air now. Nobody knows how to build new equipment; you’ve got some smart engineers and technicians, but no scientists to speak of. A few astronomers. And the genetic diseases are being quietly brushed under the rug because nobody knows how to handle them or what to do to get rid of them.”

“He’s right,” Will said gently. “I was a physician up there, you know. What Douglas is saying is absolutely right.”

Alec glared at the two of them. “So you decided to let the settlement die. You left with no intention of coming back.”

“That’s just about one hundred percent wrong,” Douglas said. “The settlement will certainly die—if it stays alone. I’m trying to save it by forcing you people to reconnect with the rest of the human race, with Mother Earth. And to do that, I’ve got to build a viable civilization here on Earth. Right?”

A boiling tide of rage was rising in Alec’s guts. “That’s a fancy way of saying that you’re carving out a nice little empire for yourself down here, and you want to force the settlement to become part of it.”

Smiling sadly, Douglas replied, “I can see that your mother’s been educating you.” He spread his big, thick-fingered hands. “Call it an empire, a renaissance, an attempt to hold back the complete annihilation of the human race as a species—call it any goddamned thing you want to! But I’m going to bring the threads of civilization back together again, one way or the other. And I want you to work with me. You’re my son and...”

“And someday I’ll inherit all this?” Alec shouted at him. “The heir-apparent? The crown prince?”

“Something like that,” Douglas muttered.

“Then you’re a fool! Don’t you know that crown princes spend their lives planning the king’s murder?”

Douglas said nothing. He simply sat there on the dusty floor and stared at his son. Then, slowly, he struggled to his feet and walked out of the room. Alec watched him, unmoving.

Will Russo shook his head. “I shouldn’t stick my nose into this damned thing... father and son, after all. But, by golly, that was a lousy thing you just did to him. He’s been waiting twenty years to see you.”

“So he saw me,” Alec said, suddenly weary of the whole thing. “What was he expecting? Congratulations for running out on us? A hero’s medal for turning his back on the whole lunar settlement so he could play emperor down here?”

“There’s a lot to this that you don’t understand.”

“No,” Alec said, getting to his feet. “I understand him perfectly. He can rationalize all he wants to, but the simple fact is that he’s a king down here instead of a responsible citizen of the settlement. And he’s trying to make us submit to him by holding the fissionables. He knows we can’t survive without them.”

“You won’t survive even with them,” Will said gently. “That’s the point he’s trying to make.”

The afternoon seemed infinitely long. Alec paced alone through the dead streets of the town, kicking up dust, watching the weeds and a few straggling flowers tossing in the warm wind. Trees grew tall and dark in all directions around the town, but for some reason the trees planted along the streets were nothing but dead bare skeletons.

It took him several hours to calm down, to regain enough self-control so that he could face his own men without being afraid that his hands would tremble or his voice would crack. My father’s convinced himself that he’s right, Alec thought. And he’s convinced Will and the others, too. Everything mother told me about him is true. He’s able to rationalize anything, everything: leaving us, not caring if we live or die. And he claims it’s for our own good. The bastard!

The flaming beauty of sunset went unnoticed. Only when it started getting dark enough to worry him did Alec return to the trucks. He lost his way several times among the empty diverging streets, but finally he found the Post Office and his men. They were eating with Will’s people, gathered around an open fire in front of the Post Office building.

“There you are,” Jameson said as Alec stepped out of the shadows cast by one of the trucks. “I was starting to think I ought to send a couple of scouts out to find you.”

“No need,” Alec said.

His own men and Will’s people were intermingling freely. The girls were laughing and charming the men. Angela was not in sight, though. Alec sat on the ground by the fire and shared their communal dinner. He didn’t bother asking what was in the pot. It was tasteless—at least, he tasted nothing.

Angela showed up as he finished eating.

“Dad wants to see you,” she said tightly.

He rose and started walking off with her. Despite her small size she kept pace with him. She’s tough, Alec couldn’t help thinking. Battle-hardened.

“Hey, chief, where you going?” Gianelli’s voice called through the flickering shadows cast by the campfire. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!” The laughter of several men followed them.

“He’s not your father,” Alec said grimly as they walked around toward the rear of the Post Office.

Her eyes flashed and she snapped, “More than...” Then she seemed to catch herself, think better of it. “That’s right. He’s not really my father.”

“And you’re not my sister.”

“So?”

“So just remember that.”

Her voice was brittle. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Douglas was sitting in the jeep; it was still parked behind the building. The only light was from the stars; the Moon had not risen yet.

“Thank you, Angela,” Douglas said softly. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to Alec alone.”

“I don’t mind... Dad.” She put special emphasis on the last word, Alec thought.

“Well?” Alec asked, standing beside the jeep. He could barely make out the expression on his father’s face, in the darkness.

“What are your plans?” Douglas asked.