Worlds in Chaos

by James P. Hogan

  They waited. Then the screen of the desk unit brightened, and Sariena appeared against a hotel-room background, wearing a dark wraparound robe. She had evidently been doing some hurried thinking. “It appears to make so much sense,” she said, then mustered an awkward smile. “It’s I who ought to be apologizing, Lan. You can think like Kronians.”

  “Thank Vicki,” Keene grunted. “Or, maybe we should all thank Robin.”

  “Who’s Robin?”

  “Vicki’s son. He’s fourteen. He’s the one who’s been telling us that dinosaurs couldn’t have existed.”

  “Are you there, Vicki? Robin sounds like quite a person. Life must be interesting at your house.”

  “Tell me about it,” Vicki called from where she was sitting. “I’m sorry things in Washington went the way they did.”

  “Well, no doubt we shall survive it. What it tells us is that Kronian and Terran science can’t work together. And maybe that was something that needed to be seen and understood plainly. So perhaps, if for no other reason than that, the mission served its purpose. In the long run, it might be for the better in any case. These things that we’re still only touching on will lead to a whole rewriting of just about everything we thought we knew. We’re probably better off being free to pursue it in our own way.”

  “You sound as if you could buy this idea of Vicki’s, then,” Keene said.

  “I could in principle,” Sariena replied. “It would be nice to see something quantitative that at least fits the picture.”

  “I did some rough calculations here before we called,” Keene said. “To be frank, they don’t look too promising. Even with the most extreme assumptions that I can justify, the answers I get aren’t anywhere near big enough. . . . But I could be missing something. You’re the planetary scientist. I’ll leave it with you.”

  “Well, all we can do is pass all of this new material back to the scientists in Kronia,” Sariena said. “They know more about the dynamics of the Saturnian system than anyone. I don’t know where it will go from here. We might have to wait years before anything can be answered with confidence.”

  Even after dealing with Kronians for a year, Keene was astonished at the ease with which Sariena was able to adjust her horizons to accommodate these new possibilities. Already he could sense an entire new program of research about to take shape out at Saturn after the Osiris returned. Now that his fears were allayed, all doubts had fled that he should have been going too. But the moment was gone. He had wavered at the crucial juncture, and the effect couldn’t be undone. Doubtless, there would be another ship, another time—but not this time. All the same, it was nice to think that until that time, whatever transpired out there now, in a way he would still be part of it.

  “Well, I guess that for a while we’ll have to leave it with you people,” he said. “Do I take it you’ll continue staying in touch and keep us posted on developments?”

  “But of course.” Sariena sounded surprised that he should have thought it necessary to ask.

  Keene was relieved. “Do you know when you’ll be leaving yet?” he asked.

  “No. There’s some kind of administrative complication. The arrangements are on hold right now. I’m not sure of the details.”

  “Maybe if it’s going to be a day or two, we could come back up and say so long to all of you properly,” Keene offered.

  Sariena smiled. “I appreciate the thought, but it isn’t really necessary. I’ll convey it to Gallian.”

  “I guess you’ve got something more to throw at him when you see him in the morning,” Keene said. “How’s he bearing up under all this?”

  “Oh, he’s not asleep. He and Vashen are away at some meeting somewhere. They’ve been gone for several hours.”

  “At this time? What kind of a meeting, for heaven’s sake? Who with?”

  “I really don’t know. Some people came here earlier this evening and talked to him in private, and then he and Vashen left with them. I don’t know what it’s about. Whatever it was, Gallian was looking very serious.”

  Mystified, Keene looked across at Vicki as if for suggestions. “Maybe they’re billing him for the rooms and just wanted to make sure nobody got away first,” she suggested dryly. Sariena didn’t quite seem to follow the remark.

  “It doesn’t look as if you’ll be leaving anytime soon, then,” Keene said, looking back at the screen showing Sariena. “We thought it might be tomorrow morning. That was why I didn’t want to put off calling you.”

  “Well, I don’t think you need worry about that,” Sariena answered. “As I said, I really don’t know what’s going on. But if it’s something important, I’ll let you know. I’m sure Gallian would want to talk to you again before we leave, anyway.”

  “Yes, do. I’d like that. Well . . .” Keene made a casting away gesture. “There we are. In case we don’t get another chance to say so before you go back, it was an experience meeting you and the others face-to-face finally. Working with you even for this short time has been a revelation. I’m only sorry that your mission here didn’t produce a more positive result. But maybe we all realize now that perhaps that could never have been. I get the feeling there’s going to be lots going on that we’ll be talking about. It’s just a pity that it’ll be from so far away again.”

  “And it has been an experience for us,” Sariena replied. “This is truly an amazing world. Our whole race is amazing. And it will continue to expand and grow despite these setbacks. That’s what we should all remember, and work toward making happen. . . .” She hesitated for a moment. “I’m glad that we didn’t part on a note of misunderstanding and bitterness, Lan. Take good care of him, Vicki.”

  “I just run a business with him.” Vicki smiled, got up and moved around the desk so that she was in the viewing angle with Keene. “But I like the things you say, Sariena. And I’m sure you’ll be proved right one day. Have a safe voyage.”

  “Make sure you take care of Robin, then. Perhaps we’ll even see him at Saturn one day—at least for a visit. It sounds as if he has the makings of a Kronian already.” There was a drawn-out moment of silence. Then Sariena raised a hand. “Good-bye, Lan . . . Vicki, for the time being, anyway. And thanks for all you’ve done. It won’t be in vain. You’ll see.”

  The screen blanked out.

  24

  Keene slept late and arrived back at Protonix around mid morning. He had already talked to Marvin Curtiss, Les Urkin, Carlton Murray, Harry Halloran, Wally Lomack, Shirley in Washington, and everyone else who had been looking for him during his absence the previous day, so there were relatively few surprises waiting to pounce. Neither, to his mild disconsolation, was there any message from Gallian or Sariena. He waited until noon and then decided to call them, using the general number. The manner of the security man who answered was cool and detached.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Keene, but I can’t connect you. You’re name isn’t on the cleared list.”

  Keene was flabbergasted. “What? But that’s ridiculous. I was one of their guests. . . . I mean, I’ve been there. You put me through yesterday.”

  “A restricted policy is in force now. I’m not authorized to give you access.”

  “But, but . . . they’re personal friends of mine. This is insane. I demand to speak with Gallian, head of the Kronian delegation there.”

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Keene, but I have strict orders. I can give you the number of my superior if you wish.”

  Keene noted the number but sat staring at it for several minutes after he hung up. Deciding he had better things to do than get involved in arguments with layers of officialdom he tried Sariena’s personal number, only to get a recording: We’re sorry, but the number you have called, 202-555-3325, is not currently in service. If this appears to be in error, please check with the directory or press 611 for assistance.

  His apprehension rising, he clicked to his own directory and retrieved the off-surface code to connect with the Osiris. A jarring tone told him the channel was unavaila
ble. Now certain that something was wrong, he punched in the digits for the long-distance operator.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but that service is temporarily discontinued,” she advised.

  “What do you mean, discontinued? It’s the trunk beam up to the Kronian spaceship that’s in orbit. I’m a personal acquaintance of the captain.”

  The robotlike voice repeated, “I’m sorry, sir, but all I can tell you is that the service has been temporarily—”

  Keene cut the connection with a snarl, pounded the arm of his chair, and sat staring exasperatedly at the screen for several seconds. Then he rose to his feet, paced over to the door and back, glowered at the screen some more, finally turning for the door and storming through into the corridor just as Vicki was coming out of her own office on the other side. “Oh, not again,” she groaned, stepping back a pace to stay out of the way.

  Keene strode through into the reception area, where Karen was helping Celia check some figures. “Karen, look up the numbers for Leo Cavan of SICA and track him down, wherever he is, would you? I need to talk to him now, right away, maintenant, jetzt, ahora, adesso. If you can’t find him, find Herbert Voler.”

  “Lan, what are you doing now?” Vicki asked despairingly as he turned to head back to his office.

  “There’s something strange going on,” he told her. “I don’t like the feel of it. I can’t get through to the Kronians or their ship. There are two kinds of people that they won’t let you talk to: ones who don’t want publicity, and prisoners. The Kronians came eight hundred million miles to try and get publicity. So what does it tell you?”

  Karen got through to Cavan ten minutes later on a permanently open personal code that he had given Keene, only to be used in emergencies. He was on his way to a meeting in the SICA offices and had to keep things brief. “I’m not sure what’s going on, Lan,” he said. “Something’s in the wind here, but nobody’s talking. I do know it goes all the way to the top. There’s an information blackout in force, which obviously includes the Kronians. Even I haven’t been able to get access to Gallian this morning. Somebody doesn’t want the world talking to them. It was ordered by a security official in the middle of the night. But what seems significant to me is that it’s still being applied. It hasn’t been rescinded.”

  “It’s more than just an attempt to stop them leaving in such a hurry, then,” Keene concluded, which had been his first thought.

  “It would be a pretty drastic way of going about it,” Cavan agreed.

  “Any guesses?”

  “I’m afraid not. For once in your life, you have me at a loss, Landen.”

  Keene drummed his fingers on the desk and hesitated. “The other thing might be to try Idorf,” he said, finally. “If it involves their plans or something to do with Saturn, he’d know about it, surely.”

  “You won’t get through. The Osiris is restricted to an official channel only,” Cavan said.

  “I know, I already tried calling. But Amspace can bypass the regular net and get it on a direct beam when it’s above the horizon. We’ve still got the access protocols they gave us to get into their file system. It might be possible to create a message link from there.”

  There was short silence. Then, “Give it a try, Landen. Keep me posted. And if I learn anything more at this end, I’ll do likewise. Must go now. Why does life happen in tidal waves?” Cavan hung up.

  Keene went through into Judith’s office and found Vicki there. He waited in the doorway for them to finish speaking.

  “Oh, is the beast fed?” Vicki checked warily.

  “Yes, it’s safe. . . . Judy, do something for me when you’re through, would you? Lines to the Osiris are being blocked. I want to bypass the public system and try getting through direct. Would it be possible to create a connection via a beam from Amspace, using the access codes we’ve got for the file system?”

  Judith thought for a few seconds. “It should be. . . . But with just a skeleton crew up there, it mightn’t be set up to get attention at their end.”

  “Okay, well, get onto Amspace and find out when the ship’s due overhead, and give it a try. If it works, I want to talk to Idorf.”

  “What are you getting us into now, Lan?” Vicki asked suspiciously.

  “I’m not getting us into anything. I’m just trying to find out what’s going on.”

  Vicki gave a resigned nod. “That’s how it always starts.”

  Cavan called back around mid afternoon to say that Voler and a number of other leading astronomers had been called to a meeting at the White House, as well as top officials from the Federal Emergency Management Agency, the Departments of State and Defense, NASA, and the principal security agencies. It was being given a low profile to avoid media attention, but a lot of encrypted communications traffic was passing between departments involved in orbital and lunar operations and space agencies overseas, and all kinds of routine business was being canceled. There was a lot of strain and tension in the air. That was about as much as Cavan knew.

  An hour later, Judith called Keene in his office to say she had Idorf on a link through Amspace. “You did it!” Keene got up to close the door with a foot and then resumed his place before the screen. “Good girl. I knew you’d hack it.”

  “It wasn’t me,” Judith told him. “I was still working on it. This is incoming. He’s calling you.” Moments later, Keene found himself looking at the lean, hawkish features with the reddish hair and raggedy beard. Idorf didn’t look in the friendliest of moods; neither did he have time for social pleasantries.

  “Dr. Keene, I’m sorry if this is inappropriate, but I don’t pretend to understand how things work in your world. I’m contacting you because you are a person who gets attention and can convey a message to the proper people; also, I respect you as someone whose word can be relied upon. I cannot say the same for many of the others that I’ve been hearing recently. My impression is that they are likely to say anything they think I want to hear if they believe it might get them what they want. I’m told this is what you call politics.”

  Play this ree-al easy, Keene told himself. He tried to look composed. “I appreciate the compliment, Captain Idorf. How can I help?”

  “Are you aware that the departure of our delegation is being obstructed?”

  “No, I wasn’t. I knew there was a block on communications, and in fact was trying to get through to you via Amspace to find out more. I’m back in Texas now, away from it all. What’s happening?”

  “The transportation that was supposed to be made available to bring them back up to the Osiris is not forthcoming. I am also informed that the emigrants who have been booking earlier flights to the Tapapeque base in Guatemala have been put on hold.” Keene started to inject that he knew something strange was going on in Washington, but Idorf went on, “Today, I announced that if your government was not going to provide a shuttle to bring our delegation up, I would send one of our own surface landers down to get them. I was warned off by Terran defenses, Dr. Keene! They advised me that any such unauthorized landing would be treated as a hostile act, and the craft seized. So, are we at war now, eh? Does Earth jump to the only kind of solution it has ever been able to conceive for any problem?”

  Keene was aghast. “My God! Look . . . I know something’s been—”

  “Ah, but that’s not the end of it. Two hours ago, I was advised of an intention to send a military boarding party up to this ship and asked to cooperate peacefully ‘for our own security and protection,’ whatever that is supposed to mean. . . .”

  “Jesus Christ! I—”

  Idorf’s hand appeared in the foreground on the screen, pointing a finger. “Very well, they have made their rules clear. Now this is what I would like you to convey, if you would, to whoever down there should hear it. Years ago, when relations between our two societies were more strained than in recent times, there seemed a real possibility that Earth might send an expedition to take over Kronia forcibly. We devoted considerable effort of the kind that
produced vessels such as this one to the development of advanced defense systems, and it has been our policy ever since to build all new ships with a dual-role capability. The Osiris is armed, Dr. Keene. The weapons that it carries are of extreme potency. We will fire upon any craft, manned or otherwise, that attempts approaching closer than one hundred miles without authorization, whether or not it acknowledges further warnings. I trust you will have gathered by now that I am not of a mood to make jokes. I’m hesitant to put this to the people I’ve listened to today, because I fear they might attribute the same slipperiness to my words as appears to apply to their own. But as I said, you strike me as someone who will put it in the right way, to the right persons. Have I been clear enough? And if so, will you do as I ask?”

  Keene eased himself back in the chair and exhaled a long, silent whistle. “Yes. Perfectly clear, Captain. . . .” He thought furiously about how much it might be wise to divulge. Finally, he decided that the way to respond to candor was with candor. “I already knew that the ship was armed,” he said. “When we visited you, a colleague and I strayed off the path we were supposed to be on, and saw inside one of the hub cupolas. The machinery looked like an ejector, and whatever it launches is obviously nuclear. What is it? At a guess—some kind of fission-pumped, multipointing beam device? X-ray laser, maybe?”

  Idorf’s eyebrows arched. “I respect your frankness, Dr. Keene. And you are remarkably well informed. Each capsule deploys a gigajoule charge and generates multiple, independently targetable beams at a ten-thousandth of an Angstrom. I don’t think I have to spell out what that would do to a target at a hundred miles.“

  Or a thousand, Keene thought to himself. “I am a nuclear engineer,” he said. “And I worked in plasma physics research for a while. In fact I’ve been involved in studies of that kind of system. How much of the specification are you prepared to release?”

  Idorf shrugged. “As much as it takes to convince them.”