Industrial Revolution

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Industrial Revolution Page 3

by Poul Anderson

* * * * *

  The first disturbing note was sounded on the verandah.

  They had glanced at the cavelike dormitories where most of thepersonnel lived; at the recreation dome topside which made the lifetolerable; at kitchen, sick bay, and the other service facilities; atthe hydroponic tanks and yeast vats which supplied much of theStation's food; at the tiny cabins scooped out for the top engineersand the married couples. Before leaving this end of the asteroid,Blades took his group to the verandah. It was a clear dome juttingfrom the surface, softly lighted, furnished as a primitive officers'lounge, open to a view of half the sky.

  "Oh-h," murmured Ellen Ziska. Unconsciously she moved closer toBlades.

  Young Lieutenant Commander Gilbertson gave her a somewhat jaundicedlook. "You've seen deep space often enough before," he said.

  "Through a port or a helmet." Her eyes glimmered enormous in the dusk."Never like this."

  The stars crowded close in their wintry myriads. The galactic beltglistened, diamond against infinite darkness. Vision toppled endlesslyoutward, toward the far mysterious shimmer of the Andromeda Nebula;silence was not a mere absence of noise, but a majestic presence, theseething of suns.

  "What about the observation terrace at Leyburg?" Gilbertsonchallenged.

  "That was different," Ellen Ziska said. "Everything was safe andcivilized. This is like being on the edge of creation."

  Blades could see why Goddard House had so long resisted the inclusion offemale officers on ships of the line, despite political pressure at homeand the Russian example abroad. He was glad they'd finally given in. Nowif only he could build himself up as a dashing, romantic type ... But howlong would the _Altair_ stay? Her stopover seemed quite extended already,for a casual visit in the course of a routine patrol cruise. He'd have towork fast.

  "Yes, we are pretty isolated," he said. "The Jupiter ships just unloadtheir balloons, pick up the empties, and head right back for anothercargo."

  "I don't understand how you can found an industry here, when your rawmaterials only arrive at conjunction," Ellen said.

  "Things will be different once we're in full operation," Bladesassured her. "Then we'll be doing enough business to pay for a steadyinput, transshipped from whatever depot is nearest Jupiter at anygiven time."

  "You've actually built this simply to process ... gas?" Gilbertsoninterposed. Blades didn't know whether he was being sarcastic orasking a genuine question. It was astonishing how ignorantEarthsiders, even space-traveling Earthsiders, often were about suchmatters.

  "Jovian gas is rich stuff," he explained. "Chiefly hydrogen andhelium, of course; but the scoopships separate out most of that duringa pickup. The rest is ammonia, water, methane, a dozen importantorganics, including some of the damn ... doggonedest metalliccomplexes you ever heard of. We need them as the basis of achemosynthetic industry, which we need for survival, which we need ifwe're to get the minerals that were the reason for colonizing the Beltin the first place." He waved his hand at the sky. "When we really getgoing, we'll attract settlement. This asteroid has companions, waitingfor people to come and mine them. Homeships and orbital stations willbe built. In ten years there'll be quite a little city clusteredaround the Sword."

  "It's happened before," nodded tight-faced Commander Warburton ofGunnery Control.

  "It's going to happen a lot oftener," Blades said enthusiastically."The Belt's going to grow!" He aimed his words at Ellen. "This is thereal frontier. The planets will never amount to much. It's actuallyharder to maintain human-type conditions on so big a mass, with auseless atmosphere around you, than on a lump in space like this. Andthe gravity wells are so deep. Even given nuclear power, the energycost of really exploiting a planet is prohibitive. Besides which, thechoice minerals are buried under kilometers of rock. On a metallicasteroid, you can find almost everything you want directly under yourfeet. No limit to what you can do."

  "But your own energy expenditure--" Gilbertson objected.

  "That's no problem." As if on cue, the worldlet's spin brought the suninto sight. Tiny but intolerably brilliant, it flooded the dome withharsh radiance. Blades lowered the blinds on that side. He pointed inthe opposite direction, toward several sparks of equal brightness thathad manifested themselves.

  "Hundred-meter parabolic mirrors," he said. "Easy to make; you spray athin metallic coat on a plastic backing. They're in orbit around us,each with a small geegee unit to control drift and keep it aimeddirectly at the sun. The focused radiation charges heavy-dutyaccumulators, which we then collect and use for our power source inall our mobile work."

  "Do you mean you haven't any nuclear generator?" asked Warburton.

  He seemed curiously intent about it. Blades wondered why, but nodded."That's correct. We don't want one. Too dangerous for us. Nor is itnecessary. Even at this distance from the sun, and allowing forassorted inefficiencies, a mirror supplies better than five hundredkilowatts, twenty-four hours a day, year after year, absolutely free."

  "Hm-m-m. Yes." Warburton's lean head turned slowly about, to rakeBlades with a look of calculation. "I understand that's the normalpower system in Stations of this type. But we didn't know if it wasused in your case, too."

  _Why should you care?_ Blades thought.

  He shoved aside his faint unease and urged Ellen toward the domerailing. "Maybe we can spot your ship, Lieutenant, uh, Miss Ziska.Here's a telescope. Let me see, her orbit ought to run about so...."

  * * * * *

  He hunted until the _Altair_ swam into the viewfield. At this distancethe spheroid looked like a tiny crescent moon, dully painted; but hecould make out the sinister shapes of a rifle turret and a couple ofmissile launchers. "Have a look," he invited. Her hair tickled hisnose, brushing past him. It had a delightful sunny odor.

  "How small she seems," the girl said, with the same note of wonder asbefore. "And how huge when you're aboard."

  Big, all right, Blades knew, and loaded to the hatches with nuclearhellfire. But not massive. A civilian spaceship carried meteorplating, but since that was about as useful as wet cardboard againstmodern weapons, warcraft sacrificed it for the sake of mobility. Theself-sealing hull was thin magnesium, the outer shell periodicallyrenewed as cosmic sand eroded it.

  "I'm not surprised we orbited, instead of docking," Ellen remarked."We'd have butted against your radar and bellied into your controltower."

  "Well, actually, no," said Blades. "Even half finished, our dock's bigenough to accommodate you, as you'll see today. Don't forget, weanticipate a lot of traffic in the future. I'm puzzled why you didn'taccept our invitation to use it."

  "Doctrine!" Warburton clipped.

  The sun came past the blind and touched the officers' faces withincandescence. Did some look startled, one or two open their mouths asif to protest and then snap them shut again at a warning look? Blades'spine tingled. _I never heard of any such doctrine,_ he thought,_least of all when a North American ship drops in on a North AmericanStation._

  "Is ... er ... is there some international crisis brewing?" heinquired.

  "Why, no." Ellen straightened from the telescope. "I'd say relationshave seldom been as good as they are now. What makes you ask?"

  "Well, the reason your captain didn't--"

  "Never mind," Warburton said. "We'd better continue the tour, if youplease."

  Blades filed his misgivings for later reference. He might have frettedimmediately, but Ellen Ziska's presence forbade that. A sort of Pauliexclusion principle. One can't have two spins simultaneously, can one?He gave her his arm again. "Let's go on to Central Control," heproposed. "That's right behind the people section."

  "You know, I can't get over it," she told him softly. "This miracleyou've wrought. I've never been more proud of being human."

  "Is this your first long space trip?"

  "Yes, I was stationed at Port Colorado before the new Administrationreshuffled armed service assignments."

  "They did? How come?"


  "I don't know. Well, that is, during the election campaign the SocialJustice Party did talk a lot about old-line officers who were toohidebound to carry out modern policies effectively. But it soundedrather silly to me."

  Warburton compressed his lips. "I do not believe it is proper forservice officers to discuss political issues publicly," he said like amachine gun.

  Ellen flushed. "S-sorry, commander."

  Blades felt a

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