-3-

It was the words of Doctor John that really mattered. That's what his father had been there to learn, and that was what Bernie had felt he needed to know to find him. Where had Doctor John planned to go when he left Johnsworld?

Slowly, the clues had come. Bernie, like his father, was persistent, and the persistence paid off. It was not that people were reluctant to talk to him. They just didn't seem to know where Doctor John had gone when he left Johnsworld, and if Price Forester had somehow found out, he apparently hadn't told anyone before he left, either. Customs and Immigrations records gave the name of the ship he had embarked on, but its destinations were lost in time. So Bernie had to piece it together all over again, with only Russell Wilkinson's recollections of the questions his father had asked him as a guide.

"I think your father believed the part of the legend about a perfect world somewhere, with a perfect government created by Doctor John. For him, that was the 'truth at the heart of the legend' that he sought. So he concentrated on trying to understand what Doctor John would have meant by 'perfect'. He spent a lot of time accessing the Johnstown Databank records of Doctor John's astronomical studies on our terminal here in the Higgins library." So Bernie had done the same. And finally, he convinced himself that he knew where his father had gone.

There were sketchy descriptions of a number of worlds in the records of Doctor John's astronomical notes. The factors of interest to him, Bernie decided, seemed to be the potential for complete self-sufficiency. That fit with the stories that his "new" world did not advertise its existence to people in other places. Bernie found that many of these worlds had indeed been colonized later. One of them, known simply as Serenity, was only infrequently visited by the merchant ships that plied the trade lanes between the colony worlds. Bernie made his decision, and listed himself with the Johnstown merchant register as available for crew assignment on any merchantman scheduling a run that would stop at that planet.

That was how Bernie found himself aboard the freighter Lady of Antares, bound for Serenity and points beyond by way of Dracutt, Brisbane, and Lorensworld. The translight drive reduced the light years of distance between ports to months of travel time, but even so the voyage was tedious between the interludes of frantic activity in port. He stood his deck watches and served his other duties, labored at offloading cargo onto the shuttle boats when they stopped at those intermediate ports on the ship's trading route, but once he'd pumped his crew mates for what little they could add to his knowledge of the lore of Prester John, Bernie spent his free time alone as much as possible, dwelling on the implications of what he had learned.

The ship's library had little to add to what he had gleaned from the one in Johnstown, about either Prester John or the planet Serenity. He learned that Serenity's sole spaceport was named Freeport, and that trade with the planet was limited mainly to booktablets, which they seemed to both import and export. Of the planet's settlements, geography, or other features, he could learn nothing. He located the crates slated for offloading at Serenity in the cargo bays, but could think of little to be gained from examining their contents that would justify the risk of breaking the seals on any of them. He was already committed; he would arrive there and see the place for himself in due time.

From space, Serenity was a blue planet, much like Earth, dusted with clouds and set with emerald gems of land. Bernie felt excitement at the prospect building within him as he signed himself off of the crew roster, collected his credits, and prepared to go down with the landing boat. His excitement was tinged with not a small amount of trepidation. He could not after all be certain that this was truly the secret paradise of Prester John, or even that it was really the place where he would find his father. And once he signed off at this remote trading stop, it could be months or even years before he would find another freighter with an open berth. But his hopes were high, and he did not flag in his resolve.

If he had expected opulence, Bernie would have been disappointed. Freeport was almost rustic, form given over to function to a degree Bernie had not before encountered even in the most utilitarian spaceport cities he had visited. It was a stark contrast to the glittering facades of the larger ones, which catered to whatever whim or desire of the merchant sailors would most quickly separate them from their wages. In that contrast there was a rightness about Freeport that Bernie nearly overlooked. But his long habits of analysis and introspection made him notice his own reaction. What men had built here had been built with honesty, he decided, and with an attention to detail that could be called perfectionism. Everything he saw was clean and well cared for, used surely but never abused. His trepidation faded, and he grew almost certain that he had come to the right place. But how to find his father?

He was already on the street before he realized he had not seen a single person who looked like a customs or immigrations official. In most spaceports he would have been photographed, fingerprinted, and stamped by now. Here there had not even been an official looking counter or window where he might have been expected to register his name. Some spaceports, of course, were closed cities, allowing sailors the run of the port and its entertainment districts but denying them travel outside its gates. Freeport did not feel like that. There was no playing to the gratification of sailors apparent here. It just appeared to be wide open. While this added to Bernie's sense that this was the place he was looking for, it also gave him an unexpected problem. If they were not going to take official account of his presence, there would be no record of his father's arrival either. His quick success at finding his father's trail on Johnsworld could not be repeated here on Serenity. The trail had gone cold. For the first time in a long while, Bernie began to feel how very much alone he was.

Aimlessly wandering the streets of Freeport, not knowing what he was looking for, he came upon a pleasant little park graced with a few trees, a fountain and some benches. He dropped his duffle bag beside one of the benches and sat wearily down to think. He had passed a dozen eating places and several small hotels as he walked. Finding food or a place to spend the night would not be a problem. But where to begin to find his father? He couldn't ask everyone he met; he had to have a plan.

Bernie dropped his head in his hands. With all the time he had spent shipboard musing on his prospects, he had not anticipated this. He wanted to blame himself, but every spaceport he had ever seen or heard of before kept some record of the comings and goings of sailors, if only to control the smuggling of illegal drugs and other contraband and guard against the spread of other criminal activities. He had naturally counted on using those records here as he had on Johnsworld to lead him to his father.

He had never imagined that Serenity and Freeport could really be so free of such activities that people here were uncontrolled and untraceable. Again he found himself reacting with ambivalence; pleased at this further evidence that he had come to the right place, frustrated that this very freedom might block his purpose. Preoccupied with his musings, Bernie didn't notice the tall gray haired man who was approaching him until he spoke.