As the supper crowd chattered on with raucous volume, the sound echoed off Inga’s high dome. To Miguel Galluzzi’s mind, it almost gave the place that hollow echo he’d heard in great cathedrals back on Earth. Above it all, the occasional bang of thunder and the soft pattering of rain made a most remarkable backdrop.
Now he placed a hand to his overstuffed stomach and shot Shig Mosadek a sidelong appraisal where the small man perched on his bar stool, the untouched half-glass of wine before him. “Is it always this loud?”
“New people in town. This is the first time some of your crew members have been here. We’re a curious bunch. And visitors, especially after three years, are a novelty. Not to mention the, shall we say, unique events you’ve survived getting here. Makes you and your people the center of attention.”
Galluzzi stared into his glass of beer. Fought the urge to belch. How long since he’d had a full belly? Let alone the enjoyment of tastes so long forgotten? He had forced himself to eat slowly, drink with moderation, and savor each bite. After what ration had become on Ashanti, he’d have sold his soul to the devil if it meant gustatory satisfaction the likes of which poured with such little fanfare from Inga’s kitchen.
Except that Satan already owns my soul.
“That was a rather rapid transition from a look of bliss to one of misery,” the observant Shig noted.
“You are a scholar of comparative religion?”
“I am.”
“Do you believe in damnation? In a form of higher justice? That we are condemned to be judged for our actions?”
Shig’s dark eyes fixed on his. “I do. But not in the way that concerns you at the moment. Parsing religious philosophies down to the grossest of blunt fundamentals, the Eastern traditions assume that existence is a struggle to rise out of the chaos of creation to attain the sublime state of nirvana. The essence of the Western traditions is that divine good and evil are in conflict, and the goal is to act in the service of good in such a manner whereby the soul is granted salvation.
“Your, torment, Captain, is whether your decision to save your ship and crew came at the expense of your humanity and soul.”
Galluzzi rolled his glass of beer on its base. “I thought by scouring out Deck Three, it would make it easier. I wish there was a way to scour the soul.”
“The Western faiths provide the penitent with paths to forgiveness, some as easy as simply declaring yourself to be a believer. In a single stroke—or a dunking—your sins are washed away. All is forgiven. In other traditions, it’s a little more difficult.”
“That sounds remarkably like a cheat.”
Shig chuckled to himself. Smiled. “Indulge me in a little experiment. A mind game. Looking back with the God-like clarity of hindsight, let’s put the ‘you’ of today—knowing what you do now—back in that place. In that terrible moment of decision, what would you change? What would you decide differently?”
“I don’t know, Shig. I chose my ship and crew, and in the process, condemned three hundred and forty-two people to starvation, murder, and madness. That was a crime against humanity. Those people were under my care, my responsibility. Given what they suffered? Well, someone has to pay.”
“Thought you’d be arrested upon arrival, didn’t you say?”
Galluzzi’s right hand began to twitch. “And here I sit, with a full stomach and a tasty beer. Where’s the justice in that? I feel . . . disgusted with myself.”
“You haven’t answered my question: With the benefit of hindsight, what would you do differently?”
“That question tortures me every night. Lurks down under my every waking moment. Those were innocent, good, and amiable men, women, and children. They were decent human beings guilty of nothing. They were deserving of the best.”
“Having thought it all through, you still can’t find a better solution than the one you made?”
He shook his head, a leaden emptiness in his gut. “If there is justice, why am I still alive and so many of those good people dead? I turned the ones who survived into monsters. And in the process, became one myself. God, karma, the universe, even the quanta should see me blasted and burned for eternity.”
He tried to keep his voice from breaking. Damn it. He jammed his spastic right hand behind his belt.
Before Shig could reply, he said, “But if I’m not to be held responsible? If the Supervisor isn’t going to arrest me, try me, punish me? There’s part of me that urges me to walk down to the shuttle deck, key in the override, and cycle the lock. Let it blow my body out into vacuum.” Galluzzi smiled wistfully. “I find a certain solace in the notion that for the rest of eternity, my body will tumble through the frozen and empty black. Staring sightlessly, limbs fixed, the moment of horror caught forever on my face. That out there, like that, I can finally atone.”
Shig sat for a moment, head cocked, frown lines deepening on his forehead. “Tomorrow morning, will you take a ride with me? There’s something I want to show you.”
Galluzzi snorted his displeasure with himself. “What have I got to lose?”