The women had made up their minds, and nothing—repeat,nothing—could change them. Butsomething had to give....
WHERE THERE'S HOPE
By Jerome Bixby
Illustrated by Kelly Freas
"If you called me here to tellme to have a child," MaryPornsen said, "you can just forgetabout it. We girls have made upour minds."
Hugh Farrel, Chief MedicalOfficer of the Exodus VII, sighedand leaned back in his chair. Helooked at Mary's husband. "Andyou, Ralph," he said. "How do youfeel?"
Ralph Pornsen looked at Maryuncomfortably, started to speakand then hesitated.
Hugh Farrel sighed again andclosed his eyes. It was that waywith all the boys. The wives hadthe whip hand. If the husbands putup an argument, they'd simply getturned down flat: no sex at all,children or otherwise. The threat,Farrel thought wryly, made theboys softer than watered putty. Hisown wife, Alice, was one of theringleaders of the "no babies"movement, and since he had openlydeclared warfare on the idea, shewouldn't even let him kiss hergood-night. (For fear of losing herdetermination, Farrel liked tothink.)
He opened his eyes again to lookpast the Pornsens, out of the curvingport of his office-lab in the ExodusVII's flank, at the scene outsidethe ship.
At the edge of the clearing hecould see Danny Stern and hiscrew, tiny beneath the cavernoussunbeam-shot overhang of giantleaves. Danny was standing up atthe controls of the 'dozer, wavinghis arms. His crew was strugglingto get a log set so he could shoveit into place with the 'dozer. Theywere repairing a break in the barricade—theplace where one of NewEarth's giant saurians had comestamping and whistling throughlast night to kill three colonists beforeit could be blasted out of existence.
It was difficult. Damned difficult.A brand-new world here, all readyto receive the refugees from dyingEarth. Or rather, all ready to bemade ready, which was the taskahead of the Exodus VII's personnel.
An Earth-like world. Green,warm, fertile—and crawling, leaping,hooting and snarling with ferociousbeasts of every variety. Farrelcould certainly see the women'spoint in banding together and refusingto produce children. Somethinginside a woman keeps herfrom wanting to bring life intoperil—at least, when the perilseems temporary, and security isboth remembered and anticipated.
Pornsen said, "I guess I feel justabout like Mary does. I—I don'tsee any reason for having a kid untilwe get this place ironed out andsafe to live in."
"That's going to take time,Ralph." Farrel clasped his hands infront of him and delivered thespeech he had delivered so often inthe past few weeks. "Ten or twelveyears before we really get set uphere. We've got to build from theground up, you know. We'll haveto find and mine our metals. Buildour machines to build shops tobuild more machines. There'll beresources that we won't find, andwe'll have to learn what this planethas to offer in their stead. ColonizingNew Earth isn't simply a matterof landing and throwing togethera shining city. I only wish itwere.
"Six weeks ago we landed. Wehaven't yet dared to venture morethan a mile from this spot. We'vecut down trees and built the barricadeand our houses. After protectingourselves we have to eat. We'veplanted gardens. We've producedtest-tube calves and piglets. Thecalves are doing fine, but the pigletsare dying one by one. We'vegot to find out