Edward M. Lerner (19 page)

As succinctly as she could, Gwu made her case. Her fear that three apparent failures—the crew-kindred’s retreat into suspended automation, the disappearance of the
Harmony
, and most recently the rigged lifeboat disaster—would cause the Unity to abandon interstellar travel. Her dread of the Unity remaining forever at risk of an axial flip, trapped by its misunderstanding of the disastrous mission.
How terse and emphatic—how much like the Foremost—I have become.

Her turned-down earphones buzzed with the guards’ growing impatience. T’Brk Cha improvised that the pump must have failed long before it overheated to spark the explosion. They still needed to clear long-clogged pipes. Gwu hoped the translator would not recognize the panic in the youngster’s voice. “We must finish,” she told the huddled team.

“Ka, what do you suggest?” T’chk Dwu asked. Anxiety had displaced the recent hint of skepticism in his voice.

“I believe the Unity must be informed the technology works. A crew-kindred
can
safely cross interstellar distances.” Even though it had taken K’vithian hijackers to keep us awake as their technicians. She squeezed Swee’s tentacle. “Whatever the consequences to us. What are your thoughts?”

The latest stunned silence gave way to new murmurs: of confusion, shock, even sympathy for her burdens. None questioned that the reawakened T’bck Ra would get only one chance to send their desperate message. None would risk that opportunity to communicate on contacting the humans, with whom their captors were evidently allied. None doubted the K’vithians would exact harsh retribution.

And none put personal wellbeing before the safety of the Unity. The whispered consultation converged quickly to agreement with her proposition. Never had she been more proud of the crew-kindred and of her kind.

But were they too late?

The shift of the mission’s next all-hands meeting to Valhalla City’s poshest hotel was a giveaway: Something big was in the works. When Art and Eva arrived, they discovered the initial hour was a reception. No one in the milling crowd had any better idea than she what was being celebrated. Curiosity seemed only to whet the appetite for wine and hors d’oeuvres. Eva was content to nibble as others speculated.

Ambassador Chung, surrounded by aides, swept in near the end of the hour. He glad-handed his way through the ballroom to the dais, where he tapped on a microphone. “My colleagues”—brief toothy grin—“I hope everyone is in a party mood.”

She could only shrug to Art’s whispered, “What’s he done now?”

“As has been covered at past meetings, the mission holds delegated authority from the UP to negotiate a mutually beneficial refueling agreement with our K’vithian visitors. I want you, my colleagues, to be the first to hear that those negotiations have finally borne fruit.”

Back-to-back “my colleagues” from a very non-collegial guy. Whatever Chung planned to announce had been decided by a smaller group than the full team. Her guess was: by Chung alone.

“The Foremost and I held an unusually productive meeting just two days ago, at which he acknowledged the UP’s significant investment in antimatter production. He did me the honor of a personal meeting in his cabin aboard
Victorious
.

“‘I cannot,’ the Foremost said to me, ‘repay financially. The need to acquire fuel for the return trip was never imagined, and so never planned for.’” Chung raised his hands to deflect an outburst of questions. “That is when he made an offer far more valuable than any amount of Intersols. Mashkith said, ‘InterstellarNet began with simple barter, and I propose that we respect that precedent. What I offer in trade will make worthwhile the UP’s antimatter capability … interstellar-drive capability.’”

There was a moment of silence, and then a torrent of cheers and applause. As the ovation finally subsided, Eva raised her hand. “Ambassador, what are the arrangements for instructing us in the new physical principles?”

Chung nodded his head thoughtfully. “An excellent point, Doctor. As it happens, the trade will work slightly differently.”

What? “With all respect, sir, what does that mean?”

“The K’vithian mission parameters never anticipated refueling here, nor the accident-related need for major resupply. We’ve understood all along that meant they didn’t bring mega-funds. But it
also
means they never envisioned transferring the interstellar-drive technology. Asking now for that authorization would entail a twelve year wait—with no guarantee of the outcome.”

“But you just said…. “Eva stopped, too angry to speak.

“The Foremost found what he considers a solution to this dilemma—what you or I might reasonably consider a rationalization. A loophole. If you wish to think of it this way, he is ready to bend the rules rather than be stranded here. He was expressly ordered to keep secret the interstellar-drive theory, but nothing in his instructions says he can’t swap his ‘surplus equipment’ for our ‘surplus fuel.’ The surplus equipment he offered us is a lifeboat equipped with interstellar drive.”

“This is incomprehensible.” (The netted version of Art’s outburst said “insane.” Her netted reply hedged agreement.) “To converge upon an antimatter-exchange method, we had to share a great deal of our research with the Snakes. The K’vithians.
Now
they say they won’t trade on an equal basis?”

“The K’vithians already have antimatter technology,” Chung said. “We have seen it demonstrated. They want
antimatter
, not theory, from us. They investigated BEC technology only to convince themselves they can take delivery of our fuel within an acceptable level of risk.”

“Can we operate a spaceship whose drive we don’t understand without putting
ourselves
at risk?” Art shot back.

Chung sniffed. “The Foremost assured me the drive mechanism is simple to replicate and operate. And, of course, lifeboat controls are designed to be meaningful to any crewman, not accessible only to specialists.”

How many alternate drive mechanisms had been hypothesized over the years? How many theories, each with its associated experiments, had split the never adequate R&D budget? Possessing a drive that worked would let the UP direct its future efforts much more wisely. And surely she could infer much by careful observation and measurement of a working starship. The trade made a kind of sense—not just to Eva, but to the dozens contributing to the rising buzz in the ballroom.

“What do you think, Art?” she netted.

“Honestly? I don’t know what to think. I only know it doesn’t
feel
right.”

A hundred moons, asteroids, and ships across the solar system emitted a carefully timed salvo. Part of the barrage took the form of collimated beams; the rest came in high-energy pulses. No warning—no signal of any kind—could outrace the speed-of-light onslaught to its target nearly a light-day distant. The converging energies fluctuated every few nanoseconds, randomly hopping frequencies and altering modulations.

Two days later, the echoes of those simultaneous radar and lidar probes had returned to their sources. Outgoing and returned wave data, position—and time-stamped with utmost precision, had been forwarded to
Actium
and run through a battery of precise correlations. Wall screens and holo tanks now presented the analyses from every possible perspective, and in dizzying detail, but Art found the bottom-line result unambiguous. The target in the outer fringes of the Kuiper Belt had traced precisely the elaborate trajectory the Snakes had predicted.

IR instruments, as forecast, had seen nothing—even when radar insisted the object had been decelerating while aimed directly at them. That eliminated fusion. Some had imagined an intense beam source hidden on a nearby proto-comet, but the object swooped and swerved far more adroitly than any sail-based propulsion could possibly accomplish.

Meanwhile, gravity-wave observatories were scrambling to interpret a flood of data. Eva was like a kid in a candy shop. Quantum gravity was her specialty and passion; her repeated best efforts had yet to get Art deeper than five minutes into a description of her research.

“Damn,” he said. It was an expression of wonderment, not anger. “It’s for real. I can’t imagine how that many varied observations could be faked.” The test had been designed in consultation with UP military and UPIA experts, whose most advanced experimental jammers and spoofers could not fool even a fraction of the electromagnetic probes just deployed. “There is a real object out there with a real interstellar-drive capability.” Excited voices across the crowded bridge agreed.

Ambassador Chung managed to simultaneously beam and scowl. The scowl, Art assumed, was for his sole benefit. “The K’vithians told us they have antimatter capability—and they proved it. They said they have a lifeboat equipped with a non-reaction, interstellar drive to offer us—and they proved that. Dr. Walsh, does your cynicism require any additional hugely expensive experiments insulting to our guests?”

Why wasn’t he convinced even now? As though reading Art’s mind—but more likely the doubts plainly written on his face—Keizo privately netted his mantra, “Aliens are alien.” Meaning: It’s unreasonable to expect always to understand the Snakes, or their approach to problems, or what data about themselves and their most prized technology they volunteer. Meaning: Eva’s frustration that questions about the interstellar drive were invariably deflected proved nothing.

All eyes were on Art, awaiting his response.

Objectively, how could the answer be in question? The drive was said to be unsafe to operate deep within gravity wells. He could hardly expect the Foremost to sacrifice a vehicle to prove that. He faced Chung squarely. “No, sir.”

But in Art’s heart there followed a caveat: none at this time.

“Knight capture by pawn.” Mashkith slapped the chess clock.

“Bishop capture by bishop,” replied Lothwer, hitting his side of the clock. “Check.”

“Bishop capture by queen.” Tap. Mashkith’s mind was not on the game, but it seemed an appropriate way to await final word from the humans. If he could have spared his full attention, they would have been playing b’tok.

The familiar panoramic holo of Jupiter and Callisto dominated his cabin, but Mashkith was cognizant of a major change. The swarm of freighters had thinned to a few. Resupply was largely complete. “Environmental system status?”

“Near nominal again.” Lothwer advanced a pawn and tapped the clock again. “Sulfur dioxide levels in the farm…”

“Incoming announcement from Earth, Foremost. On all major news sources. On time delay.”

“Acknowledgement.” His answer, like the watch officer’s alert, was netted. Another subvocalization opened an inset box in the holo. “From the start.”

Into the inset popped a cloth-covered lectern bearing the great seal of the United Planets. Ambassador Chung emerged from a backdrop of heavy curtains, clutching a sheaf of notes. Stepping up to the podium, he cleared his throat. “My fellow citizens, I am here to make a statement.

“As you know, I lead the contact team which works closely with our interstellar guests. It has been my privilege to report regularly on our progress, just as I am certain the Foremost, leader of the K’vithian visitors, has enjoyed….”

“Knight to queen six.” Tap.

Mashkith wavered between approval and irritation with Lothwer’s casual bravado. True, an announcement was expected. Its content had been negotiated in detail with Ambassador Chung before his final trip to consult with the UP secretary-general. But the broadcast represented the culmination of a plan so
long
in execution.

“…And so I am pleased to report the successful conclusion of an extraordinarily important dialogue, as a result of which United Planets researchers will receive a working copy of the K’vithian interstellar drive. In exchange, we will begin immediately the complete refueling of
Victorious
from UP stocks of antimatter.”

And thus, after so
long
a time, everything had come together. Mashkith found his ears were wriggling. Lothwer’s were too.

It was hard
not
to gloat when the humans were always so cooperatively several moves behind.

Art stirred his coffee with reflexes finally adjusted to Callisto. Across the café table, Eva tore morsels from her bagel. Some day he needed to explain to her the accepted meaning of finger food. Or—flash of insight—maybe not. His apparent inability to keep some observations to himself was part of why Maya said living with him involved “more Art than science.”

The eatery near their offices was nothing to vidmail home about, but breakfast together was now part of their routine. He knew he looked forward to it.

On the corner 3-V, talking heads discussed the pending constitutional referendum on Titan to legalize polygamy. He ignored them. “What’s on your schedule today?”

“Coordinating with folks at Hawking Observatory. Supervising some postdocs at Callisto Tech doing ZPE experiments. Indira Singh finally arrives from Triton this afternoon to talk quantum-string theory. Fun stuff.”

Which was to say, doing her best to reconcile the contradictory and inconclusive data about the interstellar drive: oblique hints and condescending comments from the Snakes, indirect observations, subtle inferences. They had precious little hard
fact
, beyond the faint gravity ripples detected during the demo. Getting ready, in short, to take custody of the to-be-transferred lifeboat. She rattled on about specifics, quickly going way over his head.

Mashkith had vetoed Eva’s request through Ambassador Chung for one of the lifeboats presently aboard
Victorious
. “The answer would be ‘no’ if only because we already lack one lifeboat, but safety is not my main reason. I wish to avoid skepticism whether
this
lifeboat truly has interstellar capability. The vessel on its way has already demonstrated its interstellar drive. Your cynics have seen it.
That
is the boat the UP will receive.” The Foremost’s touchy reaction had only gotten Art further into Chung’s disfavor. Abstractly, Art would have thought that impossible.