The medic pulled her hand away from him, her cherubic face reddening. "We had to tell them something! They've got to know that Westward hasn't abandoned them.”
"Good lord," Francis exclaimed, leaning forward in his seat. "Is anyone…"
Anticipating the question from the tone of his voice, Rosemary reached across the short distance between them to touch his knee. "They're all alive," she assured him. "But not well. When we found them, they had been away from the garden for about 14 hours. They had spent at least 10 of those hours sleeping, three levels beneath the garden. They were evidently starving, and so weak that most of them couldn't get up off the floor."
"What did you do?" The captain asked.
"It took some negotiation," Lamont explained, "But we eventually convinced them to return to the garden. Clyde Jackson was fiercely opposed, mind you. He feels certain now that the garden is a trap. He's willing to suffer just about anything to get out of there, and to take as many colonists as will go with him."
"How did you persuade him to return?" Francis pressed.
"We promised that we'd come back with supplies from the colonization kits," Rosemary answered. "Rations, survival gear, waste disposal units. Things that didn't seem necessary in the garden."
Carter leaned back again and rubbed his eyes. "Those kits are sealed for orbital deployment, Rosemary. It's not like opening a storage locker."
The medic pulled her hand away from him, her cherubic face reddening. "We had to tell them something! They've got to know that Westward hasn't abandoned them. Good God, what if he decides to take his little girl with him next time he goes looking for a new camping spot? She may not survive the strain."
Francis looked at her apologetically. "You're right, of course. It's just that under the strain of our circumstances…" He trailed off, swirling the ice in his glass.
"You've been afraid to look a gift horse in the mouth," Rosemary finished softly.
Carter gave her a tired smile. "And confirm that it's the Trojan horse that I fear it may be."
"What's the plan, then?" Lamont asked. "Do we bring everyone back to Westward?"
"We can't," Phobos answered definitively. "Not yet. The oxygen we're able to allocate to the colonist deck at present is barely enough to keep the livestock alive."
"And we had anticipated that they would be in the tower by now at any rate," Francis added glumly.
"We give Jackson the supplies he's asking for, then," Suggested Rosemary. "And we place the refugees on a survival diet. I want to closely monitor their condition from now on."
"What if some of them refuse to leave the garden?" Lamont asked. "It's one thing to recognize a problem when one feels terrible. As long as they're in the garden, they seem to feel fine—more than fine."
"We've got to try to convince them to at least take vitamin supplements," replied Rosemary. "I would hope that we could counteract whatever it is that's happening to them."
Carter sighed heavily. "With hydroponics decimated, we're making a gamble by drawing so heavily from our colonization reserves. But I suppose we have no choice."
Lamont pulled his cigarette case from a jacket pocket and turned it over in his hands. "If it's as bad as all that," he offered, "We could always return to Earth when the ship is repaired."
"We could always return to Earth when the ship is repaired." - Allegedly...