Star Trek: The Original Series - 082 - Federation (4 page)

Just after the turn of the century, astronomers on Earth, using ground-based, adaptive optic telescopes, had resolved at least two additional bodies in the Alpha Centauri system: two large planets caught up in a complex, oscillating orbital pattern around the A and B stars. The scientific world was shocked by their discovery because common wisdom presumed that no planet could main-rain a stable orbit between two such closely situated stars.

In the decades that followed, a new generation of astronomers employed liquid vacuum telescopes on the moon’s farside to resolve three more planets in the Alpha Centauri system. One, about the size of Mercury, was locked in an eccentric orbit around Alpha Centauri A. The other two Earth-size planets occupied interweaving orbital paths around Alpha Centauri B, in a region roughly corresponding to that defined by the orbits of Mars and Venus in Earth’s solar system. Such an orbital pattern was, of cOUrse. also considered impossible. The charting of the Alpha Centauri system made it a fascinating time to be an astronomer.

Lunar-based spectroscopic interferometry analysis of the five Centauri planets eventually confirmed that one of the two Earth-size planets orbiting B exhibited a strong oxygen-absorption line.

Since the planet’s size and mass and, therefore, gravity were only a fraction higher than Earth’s, and since oxygen is a light enough gas that it would dissipate within a few thousand years under Earth-type gravity, the strong concentration of oxygen in that planer’s atmosphere could mean only one of two things—either a completely novel chemical reaction was occurring on the planer’s surface, constantly replenishing the supply of oxygen— —or there was life.

The news electrified the world. In the solar system, only on Earth had life taken hold with such success. Mars had merely shown promise. The microfossils excavated from its ancient seabeds had shown the existence of early forms of plankton and archaeobacteria—suspiciously similar enough to forms that had evolved on Earth to lead several scholars to suggest that some agency other than catastrophic meteoric impact had been responsible for the same seeds of life being sown on Earth and Mars together.

As the new century progressed, uncrewed probes were launched toward the Alpha Centauri system. Most met the same fate as the disappointing Nomad series at the turn of the century, rapidly and inexplicably failing after passing the hellopause surrounding Earth’s solar system. The development of efficient, vectored impulse drives led inevitably to a second and third generation of probes launched toward Centauri and other likely extrasolar systems at substantial fractions of light-speed. Though some of these new series also met with unexplained failures and disappearances, dozens of probes did succeed, blazing past alien worlds as they transmitted relativistically attenuated data back to Earth.

By the time of Cochrane’s own birth in 2030, scientists were as certain as scientists could be that a fully evolved, self-regulating, Gala-type ecosystem was flourishing on Centauri B II, just as on Earth. So certain were they that crewed expeditions were launched. But a further series of mysterious failures, culminating in the tragic loss of telemetry from the NASA vessel Charybdis, brought an end to the first attempted wave of the human exploration of extrasolar space. Some commentators fond of conspiracy theories even put forward the idea that Khan Noonien Singh and his followers were not frozen in some long-lost sleeper ship. but were prowling the outer solar system, blowing up space probes. keeping their genetically inferior conquerors planet-bound.

Whatever the reason for Earth’s initial difficulties in pursuing advanced exploration, as the political tensions of the mid-twenty- first century worsened, funding for purely scientific endeavors became less popular and harder to obtain. As had happened so often in human history, Brack assured Cochrane, even with the potential rewards of cooperation and exploration so obvious, humankind once again turned in on itself, becoming insular and distrustful and forgetful of the need to look beyond the immediate.

There was always a weariness in Brack when he spoke about the incessant repetition of failure in human affairs. Cochrane detected that same weariness now.

“I know what the scanners say,” Brack continued impatiently.

“I’ve seen the simulations, read the reports, the speculations.” He gestured dismissively. He was a man who only wanted results.

“But what I came out here to ask you, Zefram, is what did Centauri B II look like to you? What did it.feel like.’?” He held out both hands as if beseeching Cochrane. “I know what the oxygen percentage of the atmosphere is. But what did it taste like to breathe alien air? Do you think a man could live there and call it home?” Cochrane recalled the tang of that air: sere, dusty, but filled with the scent of life. After the fact, he knew he had been a fool to slip off his breathing mask even for the few minutes he had allowed himself. Computer analysis had shown the ecosystem of Centauri B II to be DNA-based with the same range of amino acids~more fuel for the fire of those who thought Earth and Mars had been deliberately seeded. There was no way of knowing
vhat kind of bacteria and viruses he had exposed himself to with those lungfuls of air never before tasted by humans. But other than two days of sinus discomfort, and some stinging grit in the corners of his eyes, Cochrane had suffered no ill effects. Maybe he had been lucky. Or maybe humanity was meant to go to other worlds unencumbered.

“Yes,” he told Brack, numbers and scanners aside. “No night for half the year, but it’s a place where people could live with no more hardship than desert equatorial regions on Earth.” “Good,” Brack said. He winked at Cochrane. “You remember the law of mediocrity?” Cochrane understood the law was a much misunderstood scientific principle, which translated to the lay public as “things are pretty much the same all over.” If chemistry behaved a certain way on Earth, then the law of mediocrity suggested that chemistry would behave the same way on a planet a thousand light-years distant, or on Earth a billion years in the past. Cochrane knew what Brack was getting at.

“You’re thinking that if the first planet we visit in the first solar system we explore has an Earth-like planet, then the galaxy is filled with them.” Brack nodded. “And humans will be like dandelion seeds blown on the wind, filling them all.” Cochrane smiled at his friend’s grandiose dream. “You know how long it would take to establish even a single colony in another solar system—even with the superimpellor? You know how much it would cost?” Brack didn’t smile as he answered. “One billion Eurodollars.” He held up the fingers of one hand, the thumb folded in. “Four years.” Cochrane stared at Brack as the industrialist spread his arms to indicate everything around them. “Think of it, Zefram. A Christopher’s Landing-type colony. Fusion generators to begin.

Solar and thermal in the second decade. Hospitals, libraries, self-building factories. Drone mines. Even an orbiting space platform for mapping, communication, and ship maintenance and repair. I’m assembling the modular components on the moon as we speak.” Cochrane was startled by the news, and by Brack’s audacity.

“You were that certain I’d succeed?”

..lf you’ve been in business as long as I have, you learn how to pick winners.” Cochrane’s eyes narrowed. He wanted to ask exactly how long Brack/lad been in business, even though he knew from experience that that was another topic Brack didn’t like discussing. But there were other questions. “Why the hurry, Micah?” Brack thought about his answer, pursed his lips, stared up at the dome. but focused on something only his eyes could see. “In 1838, a British steamer, the Great bstern. crossed the Atlantic, Bristol to New York, in fifteen days.” He looked back at Cochrane. Cochrane shrugged. He didn’t see the point. “It was the first fully steam-powered vessel to make the crossing. Another ship arrived the same day, but it had taken nineteen days to cross from London. Now, the sailing clippers could make the crossing t’aster if the winds were right, but the Great Western moved independent of the winds and the weather. It was technology.

Dependable. Repeatable. Fifteen days from London to New York.

:\ trip that used to take months.” Cochrane waited. “I sense an analogy building.” Brack rubbed at his temple, as if he were caught up in a memory instead of reciting facts he had studied. “You know what the American newspapers—they were the data agencies of the time —you know what they said?” ‘Tin at a loss.” Brack quoted. “‘The commercial, moral, and political effects of this increased intercourse, to Europe and this country, must be immense.’” “They were right, weren’t they?” Cochrane asked.

Brack’s eyes burned into him. “And, they said, because of the expansion of business, the rapid spreading of information, and the resulting reduction of prejudice, it would make ‘war a thing almost impossible.’” Cochrane shrugged. “Simpler times.” “No,” Brack said emphatically. “There’s never been a simpler time. Never. In all of human history, everything has always been as complex as it is right now. The people change. The technology Changes. But the… the forces at work, whatever it is that drives us to be human, that’s always the same.”

Brack looked back at the governor’s home. The quartet still played. Cochrane could hear faint laughter mingled with the music—a cocktail party on Titan. He wondered what the newspaper data agencies of 230 years ago would have thought about that.

“Eighteen thirty-eight,” Brack continued. “That same year, the Boers slaughter three thousand Zulus in Natal. British forces invade Afghanistan. Eighteen thirty-nine: Ottoman forces invade Syria. Britain and China start the Opium War. Eighteen forty: the Treaty of London unites Britain, Austria, Prussia, and Russia against Egypt. Steamships didn’t do a thing except get troops into battle more quickly. It’s never going to end, Zefram.” Cochrane thought he saw where his friend was headed with his argument. “You’re worried about what’s going on back on Earth, aren’t you? Colonel Green. The Optimum Movement.” But Brack went on as if he hadn’t heard Cochrane. “A century later, nineteen forty-four: World War Two.” He rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. “We actually started numbering them. And all eyes were on television. You know what the data agencies said about that?” “You tell me.” “Exactly what they said about steamships!” Brack held his hand to his eyes, recalling something he had read. Or heard.

“‘Television offers the soundest basis for world peace that has yet been presented. International television will knit together the peoples of the world in bonds of mutual respect.’” Now Brack rubbed his hand over his eyes, as if overcome by a sudden wave of fatigue, not just weariness. “Television! And after Korea, and Vietnam, and Afghanistan, and Africa, and Khan, and Antarcti-ca, war was still with us. And television…” Brack snorted disdainfully. “It’s been twenty years at least since anything’s been done with it on an international level. It’s dead. Steamships are curios for collectors. But people are still people.” Across the domed field, the concert ended. Cochrane heard the polite applause. As Brack had said, the guest of honor would be missed soon.

“What’s your point, Micah?” “They’re going to say the same thing about what you’ve done.” “That the fluctuation superimpeller will bring an end to war?”

Brack’s wry smile didn’t do anything to warm his grim tone. “I promise you that that will be the lead editorial on a hundred serxices by the end of the week.” -‘Well, why not?” Cochrane asked. “I mean, wars are fought over resources, and the superimpeller opens up the galaxy.

‘thefts no end to resources now.” Cochrane followed Brack’s gaze to the governor’s home. There were silhouettes in the windows. People looking out, trying to find the man of the hour. Of the century.

“Wars are fought because that is what people do,” Brack said.

“Resources are an excuse, nothing more.” Cochrane felt frustration rising in him. Usually, he was all for these philosophical talks with Brack. The industrialist could go on as if time had no meaning for him. But Cochrane was about to be pulled back into the governor’s reception. Who knew when he would have five minutes to himself again?

“Micah, the superimpeller has no military function, if that’s what you’re worried about. It can’t even be used out here by Saturn without getting twisted up with the sun’s gravity well. On Earth, it can’t function for more than a nanosecond without self-destructing. Remember Kashishowa?” Brack’s expression hardened. “I know it has no military function—the little ‘accident’ at Kashishowa Station notwith-standing. I would never have funded your work if I had thought otherwise. But no matter what the editorialists say over the months ahead, the superimpeller has no peacefid function, either.

It*s technology, Zefram. Neutral. It’s only what humans make of it.” At last Cochrane saw the question to be asked. “And what should we make of it?” “An insurance policy.” Cochrane didn’t understand.

“War won’t end, Zefram. The superimpeller won’t do it. Matter replication or teleportation won’t do it. Nothing on the thousand drawing boards I fund ever will. But what the superimpeller wi/[ do is make sure the next war won’t cause humanity’s extinction.” “There won’t be a ‘next’ war. The New United Nations—” “Are a joke. There will always be a next war. And each next war brings crueler weapons. And the more cruel the weapons, then the more cruel the person who uses them.” Brack stepped closer to Cochrane. Someone was in the open door of the governor’s home, waving her arm as if calling Cochrane in. “We’re ten years from World War Three, Zefram. Twenty at most. The New United Nations is destined to collapse like its predecessors. And a third world war fought with twenty-first-century technology is going to be something from which Earth might never recover.

Cochrane frowned as he finally understood what Brack meant.

“But Centauri B II will be far enough away not to get involved.” within the decade.

Centaurl B II and a half-dozen others Perhaps twenty within the same number of years.” Cochrane gave his friend a skeptical look. “Not even you can afford to spend twenty billion Eurodollars on twenty extrasolar colonies.” “You’re right. But I can get four or five started. And when my competitors see me doing it, they’re going to think I see profit in it, so they’re going to try and beat me at my own game. They’ll :’ form consortlures. Sell shares. Attach superimpellors to every probe sled and impulse freighter in the system to flood the nearby systems with a wave of exploration u u u and I intend to give them the patents to do it.” Cochrane nearly choked. “Give them the patents? After what you spent to develop them?” Brack patted Cochrane on the back. “You’ve made space travel quick, now leave it to me to make it inexpensive. Trust me, my friend, by the time I’m finished with giving your invention away, they’ll be naming planets after you. And by the time any of my competitors figure out I’m just throwing my money away on colonies, with no hope for any kind of reasonable return, it will be too late. A whole industry based on interstellar exploration will have emerged.” Brack’s eyes narrowed as his most serious tone returned. “An industry that will be able to survive the collapse of Earth.” “You re telling me all of human history is a race, aren’t your” Cochrane asked. “That we’ve always been running away from our own worst instincts, and that we always will be.” Brack gave Cochrane a look the physicist knew too well. A surprise was coming, and it wouldn’t be pleasant. “Zefram, Colonel Adrik Thorsen left Earth two hours ago. He’s coming here. To see you.” Cochrane felt a chill that had nothing to do with the chill air of Titan. Thorsen was one of Colonel Green’s cadre. He was rumored to have quelled a ration demonstration in Stockholm by deploying battlefield pulse emitters designed to be used against armored infantry. The civilians taking part in the demonstration had had no radiation armor. Hundreds had been killed. Thousands left impaired, their synaptic connections sundered at a molecular level.