Worlds in Chaos

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Worlds in Chaos Page 15

by James P. Hogan


  “Why do you ask?”

  “Oh . . . it sounds pretty close to what all the great religions tried to teach for thousands of years—originally, I mean; not the political counterfeits that always end up taking over.”

  “Kronia doesn’t have anything like a formal church,” Sariena replied. “It’s more of an internal, personal thing.” She waved an arm at the panorama outside. “But most of our scientists believe that all of that and our being here talking and wondering about it suggests design for a purpose more than the meaningless, impossible accident that your systems teach. It means that our sciences operate within a different intellectual climate. If you insist that ‘science’ only deals with the mechanical and material by definition, you might turn out to be excluding it from the only questions that really matter.”

  Sariena’s answer surprised Keene and touched a skeptical note. “So is this intelligence behind it all the same God that armies hacked each other to pieces for, and people used to get burned at stakes over?” he asked dryly.

  Sariena shook her head—a trifle impatiently. “Of course not. Those are results of the political counterfeits that Vicki mentioned, when the heirs of a religious tradition sell out to the power structure and give them a means of social control. I doubt if the intelligence I’m talking about has any concern with the day-to-day affairs that we imagine are so important.”

  Keene fell silent with a nod. It was close to what had been happening with the heirs of the scientific tradition on Earth, too.

  “But you think it has a purpose?” Vicki said to Sariena, before Keene could pick up on the political aspect again.

  Sariena’s expression became distant, highlighted by the glow from the turning pattern of stars outside. “I believe so. It all seems too directed to be otherwise: stars manufacturing elements, fine-tuned to eject them at the end of the production run; planets as assembly stations for complex organisms programmed to evolve toward the expression of consciousness; consciousness, the instrument for accumulating experiences. And if we accept whatever our role happens to be as contributing a stone to the cathedral of eventually bringing the universe to life, then maybe yes, I suppose you could say that Kronians have their religion.”

  All very fine idealistic stuff; but it caused Keene’s misgivings to return. He just couldn’t see these people negotiating effectively, Earth-style with hostilely disposed Terrans. The very concept of starting with maximum demands in return for the minimum they thought they could get away with would be alien to them. Instead, they would offer the best they could afford and expect reciprocation. It was by willingness to give, not the power to take, that they valued each other.

  “Is Gallian a visionary like that too?” he asked Sariena. “You know, the people that you’re going to be dealing with when you go back down there aren’t going to be exactly falling over themselves to find reasons for diverting resources out to Saturn. They’ve got too many other concerns that are closer to home. I’d just like to be sure that Gallian is mindful of things like that.”

  “You sound as if you might be trying to warn me of something,” Sariena said.

  “It’s just . . . What I’m trying to say is, attitudes here won’t be the way you’re used to. Hiding one’s hand is considered a mark of shrewdness on Earth. You can’t take everything you’re told at face value.”

  “We have studied Terran history and ways,” Sariena said.

  “And that’s good,” Keene agreed. “But I’m not sure it can be the same as living them.”

  Sariena gave him a long, thoughtful look, as if she were weighing up something. Then she said, “There is something more, that we haven’t made public yet or brought up with your people so far—but nobody has specifically forbidden us from talking about it. We didn’t come here expecting to outdo Terrans at Terran political games. Our objective is a scientific one: to gain acceptance for our beliefs on the basis of the evidence, not through debating tricks.”

  Keene smiled, but with an effort not to appear condescending. “That’s a nice sentiment. Maybe you manage to keep science and politics in separate compartments out at Saturn, somehow. But life here is more messy. They have this tendency to get mixed up.”

  “We’re aware of that,” Sariena said. “And that was why we chose to bring our case formally to Earth now, when we did. It wasn’t just to take advantage of the Athena event—although that was certainly timely. It was to present what we think is our strongest item of proof.”

  Keene frowned. This was an unexpected turn. “Proof? . . . You mean about Venus being the comet of the Exodus?”

  Sariena shook her head. “Much more radical than that. I’m talking about the stability of the entire Solar System, not just a single event in Earth’s history. We’ve believed for a long time that the planets had different configurations in previous ages. Now we’re certain of it.” She shifted her eyes to look at Vicki, who was waiting just as intently. “Let’s go back. I’ll show you what I mean.”

  Keene and Vicki followed Sariena back the way they had come, into the deserted part of the Command Deck. She led the way to one of the consoles and activated it. The layout was unfamiliar, but a standard communications format appeared on one of the screens. “I just want to get Gallian’s okay first,” Sariena murmured by way of explanation. Moments later, Gallian was looking out at them.

  “Sariena!” he exclaimed. “I presume you’re back up in the ship by now. No problems, I trust? Have Landen and his friends arrived yet?”

  “Yes. He’s here with me right now, and so is Vicki.”

  “Ah, good. You have my unmitigated envy at being up off the surface, if only temporarily. Walking down here still makes me feel as if I am carrying a dead horse. Is that the correct figure of speech? Never mind. I only have a moment and must be brief. What can I do for you?”

  “I’d like to show them the Rhea finds,” Sariena said. “They’re relevant to something we’ve been talking about. I just wanted to check first that you have no objection.”

  “The Rhea finds,” Gallian repeated. His eyebrows rose. “I didn’t want any announcement until we’ve had the reactions next week.”

  “This will be strictly unofficial. You know how Lan and his associates have supported us. I don’t think we need have any fear that the information will go further.”

  Were Gallian leading a political deputation on Earth, it would probably have been pointless even to have asked the question in such circumstances. The Kronian, however, thought for no more than a few seconds, then nodded. “Very well. If you think it desirable, Sariena, I bow to your discretion.” He remained on the line long enough to greet Keene and Vicki, asked them what they thought of the Osiris, and then excused himself and was gone.

  Sariena shut down the console and moved toward a doorway leading from the main floor area. “This way,” she said over her shoulder. Keene and Vicki exchanged curious looks and followed her again, this time into a small room filled with electronic equipment, screens, and panels, with a worktop extending along one wall. Sariena sat down in the chair at a station in front of a glass enclosure looking somewhat like a small fish tank and began touching buttons and entering commands. A misty glow appeared in the space, which was obviously a holo-viewer. “The articles themselves are in freeze storage in one of the Osiris’s other modules,” Sariena said as the glow brightened. “We’ll be taking them down to the surface with us when we return. For now I can just show you the images. We sent the same images ahead some time ago for evaluation by your experts. As Gallian said, we’re hoping for some kind of public announcement next week.”

  She manipulated a control on an adjacent screen, and a form materialized behind the glass. It looked like a tablet of dark stone with fine white veins, shaped into a semicircle at the top and with a corner missing below. Sariena rotated the image slowly, bringing into view a design etched into the surface. It suggested a disk standing symmetrically on an arrowhead, pierced by a shallowly sloping line. Smaller circles and other shapes ap
peared to the sides, while below was what looked like the top part of a tabular array of strange symbols.

  Keene shot a mystified look at Vicki, frowned, and peered closer over Sariena’s shoulder. What they were looking at was clearly a product of an artistic culture. “Did you say Rhea?” he asked her, baffled. Rhea was one of Saturn’s moons. Vicki said nothing at once, but stared at the image with an odd expression on her face.

  Sariena nodded, keeping her eyes ahead. “A number of items and fragments like this were discovered in the ice fields there. Obviously they are artifacts. We have no idea what the markings mean. There is no life there today, nor even the conditions to permit the emergence of any, let alone an advanced race. So what are these objects doing there?” She turned her head finally to regard the two visitors. “You see what this means. The Solar System hasn’t been the same for billions of years as your scientists believe. Some things about its past were very different from what we see today. And if that’s true, they could become very different again.”

  17

  After eight hours of sleep aboard the Osiris, the visitors breakfasted with the Kronians before departing. The descent back to the surface and landing at the new Montemorelos facility went smoothly, and an Amspace plane flew the passengers and crew back to the San Saucillo site in Texas. After the postflight debriefings and changing back into their own clothes, Keene and Vicki were among the group that left by helicopter to return to Kingsville, where they had left Keene’s car on the way out. The demonstrators were gone by then, since the mission had terminated elsewhere, and work crews were busy around the site and along the sides of the approach road, clearing up the trash left behind.

  “Courtesy of our friends of the environment,” Keene quipped to Vicki, who was staring fixedly out as the helicopter rose and headed north. She didn’t seem to hear. He moved a hand up and down in front of her face. “Hello. Earth to Vicki. You can come back now. The rest of you is already here.” She blinked and smiled faintly. “Where were you—still up in the Osiris?” Keene asked.

  Vicki didn’t answer at once. “In a way. . . . I was thinking about those markings on the things Sariena showed us from Rhea. I know this sounds crazy, Lan, but I’m sure I’ve seen them before . . . or something close. I just can’t put my finger on where.”

  That was crazy. How could she have seen markings from objects only discovered within the last year that hadn’t even arrived at Earth yet? “Maybe they got into some transmission from Kronia somehow, that you saw,” was the only thing he could think of to suggest.

  Vicki shook her head. “No, I’m sure it wasn’t anything like that. It was in a book or something. I’ve been dabbling in so many different things lately: Venus and Mars, dinosaurs and mammoths, Biblical history, ancient legends. . . .”

  “Yes, but it couldn’t possibly have been—” The phone in Keene’s pocket beeped and cut him off. “It’s started already,” he sighed, taking it out and activating it. “Hello, Landen Keene here.”

  “Lan, it’s Judith. You should be down by now. Are you anywhere near getting away yet?”

  “We’re on our way to Kingsville in a chopper right now.”

  “Vicki’s there?”

  “Of course, sitting right next to me.”

  “How’d it all go?”

  “Just great. But that obviously isn’t whatever couldn’t wait. What’s up?”

  “I just heard from Jerry. He’s finished the preliminary run and sent me the figures. They’re dynamite. I’m on my way over to Kingsville right now to see the complete outputs. So I guess I’ll see you there.”

  “All right!” Keene pocketed the phone and clapped Vicki’s shoulder. “That was Judith. Jerry’s finished the first run. She’s leaving the office now and coming up to Kingsville. It sounds as if there might be some interesting news.”

  After clearing more formalities at Kingsville, Keene and Vicki went straight to Jerry Allender’s section. Judith still hadn’t arrived from Corpus Christi, but Allender took them into his office and showed them the preliminary results. Essentially, tidal pumping induced through combined electrical and gravitational forces in a hot plastic body of the kind Venus was theorized to have been would drive an initially eccentric orbit toward a minimum-energy state, circularizing it much more rapidly than anything in conventional theory permitted. It didn’t prove that Venus had originated that way; but it showed that it was possible.

  Keene was jubilant. Added to what he and Vicki had seen aboard the Osiris, this was a powerful argument for taking the Kronians seriously. Judith arrived and joined them while Allender was still expounding on the details. Keene, however, had already seen enough. Leaving the others still poring over the printouts and putting more images up on the screens, he went into an empty office and called Les Urkin at the downtown building.

  “Hey, Les. First, I just wanted to let you know that we brought Jenny back okay. We’re at Kingsville now, in case you haven’t heard from her already. It went well. She did real good.”

  “Yes, she called me about half an hour ago. . . .”

  “The other thing, Les: I’ve just talked to Jerry, who’s got the results of those computations. It really puts the whole thing on a solid foundation. Jerry says the buzz is going around among the astronomers already. I think we should try for some good general coverage at the same time to tie in with the start of the Kronian talks. Let’s get some exposure for Salio, Charlie Hu at JPL, all the other guys we’ve been talking to who don’t buy the party line, and . . .” Only then did Keene register the solemn expression on Urkin’s face, and that he wasn’t reacting to Keene’s enthusiasm. Keene’s expression changed. “What is it, Les?”

  On the screen, Urkin shook his head and looked bleak. “It’s all changed, Lan. Things have been going on that I don’t understand. We’ve lost Salio. He’s not going to be in it anywhere. And I don’t think he’ll be the only one either. I—”

  “Lost him? What do you mean, lost him? How can we . . . ?”

  “He—” Somebody interrupted Urkin from one side. He looked away and muttered something. More voices sounded indistinctly in the background. “Lan, look, I’m sorry but we’re right in the middle of something right now. Why don’t you give him a call, and I’ll talk to you about it later—say, thirty minutes to an hour. Can we do that?”

  “Why, sure, Les. . . . Shall I call you back?”

  “Sure. . . . Or we could grab a sandwich. I still haven’t had lunch.”

  “Okay. Want me to come into town?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind. My treat.”

  “See you then, Les.”

  Keene got the number from the directory in his pocket phone and called Salio right there via the office unit he was using. Salio was at once awkward, as if he had been expecting the call and not looking forward to it. There was no point in beating around the bush. “I’m just down from orbit and talked to Les,” Keene said. “He tells me there’s some kind of trouble.”

  “There isn’t going to be any appearance on Coast-to-Coast, Dr. Keene,” Salio said heavily.

  “Why not? What’s happened? Are you saying you were dropped?”

  Salio shook his head. “It was me. I canceled out. . . . I got a letter from the university in England raising questions about my legitimacy to conduct what they termed ‘serious scientific investigation,’ and hinting not very subtly that the invitation for the two-year sabbatical might be subject to reconsideration.” He looked embarrassed. “It’s more than just a job. Jean’s got her heart set on going there, and it would be so valuable for the children. . . . I know it’s important to you, but . . .” Salio shook his head. “I’m sorry, Dr. Keene. I don’t think I can help you. I’m sure you won’t have too much trouble finding someone else.”

  Vicki looked up from studying a plot of field intensity contours when Keene came back out into the main computing lab. “This is astounding, Lan. If we’d had probes out there too, our scientists would have known about this too, months ago.”

>   “Uh-huh.”

  “Oh. And Judith says that Karen is probably going to be leaving us. It seems the current boyfriend is from Dallas and can get a job for her, so she’ll be moving there. Just when she was beginning to fit in and get the hang of things, too. It’s a pity. She’s been doing a good job. I guess we have to start going through the replacement routine again.”

  “Um. How long have we got?”

  “About two months, apparently, so it could be worse. . . .” Vicki saw that Keene was only half listening. “Lan, what is it, Lan?”

  “I’ll tell you later. Look, can you get a ride back with Judith? I’ve changed my plans. I have to dash into town to see Les.”

  “It’s not just with Salio,” Urkin said tiredly across the table of the booth. They had walked a block from the headquarters building to a coffee and sandwich shop that a lot of the downtown Amspace staff used. “There’s a campaign being orchestrated from somewhere to kill our side of the story. And it’s not just your neighborhood eco club saving bugs or weeds. Look how high they went to persuade Salio to back off—and were able to get attention.”

  Keene had a pretty good idea where from. He nodded grimly. “Okay. So what else have we got?”

  Urkin tossed up a hand while he stirred his coffee. “Two talk-show appearances mysteriously canceled at the last minute in the last few days. You remember that guy Herrenberg that I told you about—the astronomer from Hawaii that we were putting on last Saturday night?”

  “The one Charlie Hu organized. Yes, sure.”

  “We’d flown him into LA. He was actually waiting in the green room when the interview was scratched.”

  Keene was incredulous. “You’re kidding!”

  “Herrenberg was just as much in the dark too. He was just told that there had been a schedule change, and he was paid off. Obviously, somebody got leaned on by somebody somewhere with a lot of weight. I couldn’t get anything out of them that made any sense when I called, although the producer’s assistant let something slip about one of the science agencies in Washington. . . . Oh yes, and you know the book that we were waiting for to appear this month?”

 

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