The Gods Themselves (7 page)

"Now then, young man, don't ask me to stop the Pumping. The economy and comfort of the entire planet depend on it. Tell me, instead, how to keep the Pumping from exploding the Sun."

Lamont said, "There is no way, Senator. We are dealing with something here that is so basic, we can't play with it We must stop it."

"Ah, and you can suggest only that we go back to matters as they were before Pumping."

"We must"

"In that case, you will need hard and fast proof that you are right."

"The best proof," said Lament, stiffly, "is to have the Sun explode. I suppose you don't want me to go that far."

"Not necessary, perhaps. Why can't you get Hallam to back you up?"

"Because he is a small man who finds himself the Father of the Electron Pump. How can he admit his child will destroy the Earth?"

"I see what you mean, but he is still the Father of the Electron Pump to the whole world, and only his word would carry sufficient weight in this respect."

Lament shook his head. "He would never give in. He would rather see the Sun explode."

The senator said, "Then force his hand. You have a theory but a theory by itself is meaningless. Surely there must be some way of checking it. The-rate of radioactive breakdown of, say, uranium depends on the interactions within the nucleus. Has that rate been changing in a fashion predicted by your theory but not the standard one?"

Again, Lament shook his head. "Ordinary radioactivity depends on the weak nuclear interaction, and unfortunately, experiments of that sort will yield only borderline evidence. By the time it showed sufficiently to be unmistakable, it would be too late."

"What else, then?"

"There are pion interactions of a specific sort that might yield unmistakable data now. Better still there are quark-quark combinations that have produced puzzling results recently that I am sure I can explain—"

"Well, there you are."

"Yes, but in order to obtain that data. I must make use of a large proton synchrotron on the Moon, sir, and no time on that will be available for years—I've checked—unless someone pulls the strings."

"Meaning me?"

"Meaning you, Senator."

"Not as long as Dr. Hallam says this about you, son." And Senator Hurt's gnarled finger tapped the piece of paper in front of him. "I can't get out on that limb."

"But the existence of the world—"

"Prove it."

"Override Hallam and I’ll prove it."

"Prove it and I'll override Hallam."

Lamont drew a deep breath, "Senator! Suppose there's just a trifling chance I'm right. Isn't even that trifling chance worth fighting for? It means everything; all mankind, the entire planet—"

"You want me to fight the good fight? I'd like to. There's a certain drama in going down in a good cause. Any, decent politician is masochistic enough to dream now and then of going down in flames while the angels sing. But, -Dr. Lamont, to do that one has to have a fighting chance. One has to have something to fight for that may— just
may—
win out. If I back you, I'll accomplish nothing with your word alone against the infinite desirability of Pumping, Shall I demand every man give up the personal comfort and affluence he has learned to get used to, thanks to the Pump, just because one man cries 'Doom' while all the other scientists stand against him, and the revered Hallam calls him an idiot? No, sir, I will not go down in flames for
nothing."

Lamont said, "Then just help me find my proof. You needn't appear in the open if you fear—"

"I'm not afraid," said Burt, abruptly. "I'm being practical. Dr. Lamont, your half-hour is rather more than gone."

Lamont stared for a moment in frustration but Burt's expression was a clearly intransigent one now. Lamont left. Senator Burt did not see his next visitor immediately. Minutes passed while he stared uneasily at the closed door and fiddled with his tie. Could the man have been right? Could he have had the smallest chance of being right?

He had to admit it would be a pleasure to trip Hallam and push his face into the mud and sit on him till he choked—but it would not happen. Hallam was untouchable. He had had only one set-to with Hallam nearly ten years ago. He had been right, dead right, and Hallam had been egregiously wrong, and events had since proved it to be so. And yet, at the time, Burt had been humiliated and he had almost lost reelection as a result.

Burt shook his head in admonition to himself. He might risk reelection in a good cause, but he could not risk humiliation again. He signaled for the next visitor and his face was calm and bland as he rose to greet him.

8

If by this time, Lamont had still felt he had something to lose, professionally, he might have hesitated. Joshua Chen was universally unpopular and anyone who dealt with him was in bad odor at once with almost every corner of the Establishment. Chen was a one-man revolutionary whose single voice could somehow always be heard because he brought to his causes an intensity that was utterly overpowering, and because he had built an organization that was more tightly knit than any ordinary political team in the world (as more than one politician was ready to swear).

He had been one of the important factors accounting for the speed with which the Pump had taken over the planet's energy needs. The Pump's virtues were clear and obvious, as clear as non-pollution and as obvious as for-free, yet there might have been a longer rear-guard fight by those who wanted nuclear energy, not because it was better but because it had been the friend of their childhood.

Yet when Chen beat his drums, the world listened just a little harder. Now he sat there, his broad cheekbones and round face bearing evidence of the approximately three-quarter admixture of Chinese ancestry.

He said, "Let me get this straight. You're speaking only for yourself?"

"Yes," said Lamont tightly. "Hallam doesn't back me. In fact, Hallam says I'm mad. Do you have to have Hallam's approval before you can move?"

"I need no one's approval," said Chen with predictable arrogance, then he lapsed back into thoughtful consideration.. "You say the para-men are farther advanced in technology than we are?"

Lamont had gone that far in the direction of compromise. He had avoided saying they were more intelligent. "Farther advanced in technology" was less offensive, but just as true.

"That is clear," said Lamont, "if only because they can send material across the gap between the Universes and we can't."

"Then why did they start the Pump if it is dangerous? Why are they continuing it?"

Lamont was learning to compromise in more than one direction. He might have said that Chen was not the first to ask this, but it would have sounded condescending, perhaps impatient, and he chose not to do so.

Lamont said, "They were anxious to get started with something that was so apparently desirable as a source of energy, just as we were. I have reason to think they're as disturbed about it now as I am."

"That's still your word. You have no definite evidence about their state of mind."

"None that I can present at this moment."

"Then it's not enough."

"Can we afford to risk—"

"It's not enough, Professor. There's no evidence. I haven't built my reputation by shooting down -targets at random. My missiles have sped true to the mark every time because I knew what I was doing."

"But when I get the evidence—"

"Then I'll back you. If the evidence satisfies me, I assure you neither Hallam nor the Congress will be able to resist the tide. So get the evidence and come see me again."

"But by then it will be too late,"

Chen shrugged. "Perhaps. Much more likely, you will find that you were wrong and no evidence is to be had."

"I’m
not
wrong." Lamont took a deep breath, and said in a confidential tone, "Mr. Chen. There are very likely trillions upon trillions of inhabited planets in the Universe, and among them there may be billions with intelligent life and highly developed technologies. The same is probably true of the para-Universe. It must be that in the history of the two Universes there have been many pairs of worlds that came into contact and began Pumping. There may be dozens or even hundreds of Pumps scattered across junction points of the two Universes."

"Pure speculation. But if so?"

"Then it may be that in dozens or hundreds of cases, the mixture of natural law advanced locally to an extent sufficient to explode a planet's Sun. The effect might have spread outward. The energy of a supernova added to the changing natural law may have set off explosions among neighboring stars, which in turn set off others. In time perhaps an entire core of a galaxy or of a galactic arm will explode."

"But that is only imagination, of course."

"Is it? There are hundreds of quasars in the Universe; tiny bodies the size of several Solar systems but shining with the light of a hundred full-size ordinary galaxies."

"You're telling me that the quasars are what are left of Pumping planets."

"I'm suggesting that. In the century and a half since they were discovered, astronomers have
still
failed to account for their sources of energy. Nothing in this Universe will account for it; nothing. Doesn't it follow then—"

"What about the para-Universe? Is it full of quasars, too?"

"I wouldn't think so. Conditions are different there. Para-theory makes it seem quite definite that fusion takes place much more easily over there, so the stars must be considerably smaller than ours on the average. It would take a much smaller supply of easily-fusing hydrogen to produce the energy our Sun does. A supply as large as that of our Sun would explode spontaneously. If our laws permeate the para-Universe, hydrogen becomes a little more difficult to fuse; the para-stars begin to cool down."

"Well, that's not so bad," said Chen. "They can use Pumping to supply themselves with the necessary energy. By your speculations, they're in fine shape."

"Not really," said Lament. Until now, he hadn't thought the para-situation through. "Once our end explodes, the Pumping stops. They can't keep it up without us, and that means they'll face a cooling star without Pump-energy. They might be worse off than we; we'd go out in a painless flash while their agony would be long-drawn-out."

"You have a good imagination, Professor," said Chen, "but I'm not buying it. I don't see any chance of giving up Pumping on nothing more than your imagination. Do you know what the Pump means to mankind? It's not just the free, clean, and copious energy. Look beyond that. What it means is that mankind no longer has to work for a living. It means that for the first time in history, mankind can turn its collective brains to the more important problem of developing its true potential.

"For instance, not all the medical advances of two and a half centuries have succeeded in advancing man's full life-span much past a hundred years. We've been told by gerontologists over and over that there is nothing, in theory, to stand in the way of human immortality, but so far not enough attention has been concentrated on this."

Lament said angrily, "Immortality! You're talking pipe dreams."

"Perhaps you're a judge of pipe dreams, Professor," said Chen, "but I intend to see ,that research into immortality begins. It won't begin
it
Pumping ends. Then we are back to expensive energy, scarce energy, dirty energy. Earth's two billions will have to go back to work for a living and the pipe dream of immortality will remain a pipe dream."

"It will anyway. No one is going to be immortal. No one is even going to live out a normal lifetime."

"Ah, but that is your theory, only."

Lament weighed the possibilities and decided to gamble. "Mr. Chen, a while ago I said I was not willing to explain my knowledge of the state of mind of the para-men. Well, let me try. We have been receiving messages."

"Yes, but can you interpret them?"

"We received an English word."

Chen frowned slightly. He suddenly put his hands in his pockets, stretched his short legs before him, and leaned back in his chair. "And what was the English word?"

"Fear!" Lament did not feel it necessary to mention the misspelling.

"Fear," repeated Chen; "and what do you think it means?"

"Isn't it clear that they're afraid of the Pumping phenomenon?"

"Not at all. If they were afraid, they would stop it. I think they're afraid, all right, but they're afraid that our side will stop it. You've gotten across your intention to them and if we stop it, as you want us to do, they've got to stop also. You said yourself they can't continue without us; it's a two-ended proposition. I don't blame them for being afraid."

Lament sat silent.

"I see," said Chen, "that you haven't thought of that. Well, then, we'll push for immortality. I think that will be the more popular cause."

"Oh, popular causes," said Lamont slowly. "I didn't understand what you found important. How old are you, Mr. Chen?"

For a moment, Chen bunked rapidly, then he turned away. He left the
room,
walking rapidly, with his
hands
clenched.

Lamont looked up his biography later. Chen was sixty and his father had died at sixty-two. But it didn't matter.

9

"You don't look as though you had any luck at all," said Bronowski.

Lamont was sitting in his laboratory, staring at the toes of his shoes and noting idly that they seemed unusually scuffed. He shook his head. "No."

"Even the great Chen failed you?"

"He would do nothing. He wants evidence, too. They all want evidence, but anything you offer them is rejected. What they really want is their damned Pump, or their reputation, or their place in history. Chen wants immortality."

"What do you want, Pete?" asked Bronowski, softly.

"Mankind's safety," said Lamont. He looked at the other's quizzical eyes. "You don't believe me?"

"Oh, I believe you. But what do you
really
want?"

"Well, then, by God," and Lamont brought his hand down flat on the desk before him in a loud slap. "I want to br
ight,
and that I have, for A
im
right."