Gibraltar Earth

by Michael McCollum

  The Stellar Survey had an operating procedure for ships returning from exploring alien star systems. They would dock at High Station, which orbited more than 100,000 kilometers over the equator. The station was so high, in fact, that it appeared to orbit retrograde in the sky. Once there, the returning ship was placed in routine quarantine until everyone was sure that it had not brought back any parasites or diseases. Following the end of quarantine, the scientific community was invariably invited to attend a conference at survey headquarters where the ship’s discoveries were announced, and bids taken on research projects.

  Magellan had done none of those things to date, despite having returned more than a month previous. The ship had materialized out beyond Jupiter, and then made its approach normally until, at the last, it had assumed a polar parking orbit rather than an equatorial one. Polar orbit was much beloved by survey satellites and those with a need periodically to scan the entire surface of the Earth, but by no others. The truth was that it was damned costly to get to. Moreover, PoleStar was in an exaggerated elliptical orbit that made it even more expensive a place to reach from the equatorial orbits.

  Yet, despite the expense and difficulty associated with the change-of-plane maneuver required to reach PoleStar, someone had set up a regular shuttle service to do just that. Vasloff had found that to be curious when he had first learned of it. After all, it was cheaper to reach polar orbit from the Earth’s surface than it was from equatorial orbit, so why would any cost-conscious company set up a ferry service from orbit?

  Then there were the scientists who seemed to be traveling to Equatorial Station and then vanishing into the vacuum of space. At first, it had seemed sufficiently mysterious to have the makings of a good techno‑thriller. Vasloff’s computer had searched out their ticket records and verified their debarkation aboard Equatorial Station, yet could find no other destination. They had not seemed to embark for Luna, the outer planets, or any other of the usual destinations. In fact, it had been his investigation into the missing scientists that had first alerted him to the shuttle service to PoleStar.

  Apparently, PoleStar was the site of a secret research project that was classified at the highest levels of the Stellar Survey. In addition to Rheinhardt, they had identified ten people, all top men and women in their field, who had been assigned to the task. It had been a stroke of luck when a computer check had revealed Salli Rheinhardt to be a member of one of Terra Nostra’s affiliated groups.

  Vasloff sat and pondered what Salli had told him. He had read a history book once that asserted the Germans might have uncovered the Manhattan Project if only they had noticed the number of physicists who were booked on trains from Princeton, New Jersey to Alamogordo, New Mexico. He wondered if Benjamin Rheinhardt were not his Edward Teller in that respect.

  “Well, Claris, what did you think?”

  Claris Beaufort, Vasloff’s second in command, was an intense blonde woman in her early thirties. Her expression matched Vasloff’s, except on her, the frown was permanent. “We have confirmed our suspicions.”

  “But what do we really know?”

  Claris shrugged. “They have found something important enough that they do not dare use the resources of High Station.”

  “Why?”

  “Security. It is too hard to keep a secret there.”

  He nodded. “Even more important, they are staffing the project from Earth. That tells me that they want to keep the very existence of the project secret, not merely its subject. That means they have powerful backing, possibly even the World Coordinator. They are using too many resources for this to be solely a survey operation. So what could they have possibly found that is this important?”

  “This mysterious Earthlike planet our people at survey headquarters have reported?”

  “Possibly,” Vasloff said, nodding. Despite his lecture concerning the impossibility of other terrestrial worlds to Mark Rykand the previous month, he was not as convinced as he liked people to believe. “If ever anyone truly discovered a twin to Earth, it would be a major blow to the global economy. Think of the speculation that would break out, the jockeying for position, the out-and-out greed. What else might it be?”

  “Those people who died. Maybe they contracted some deadly plague.”

  “Possible,” he mused. “That would explain the secrecy. If word got out that they have found an alien bug that lives on human beings, they would be doing our job for us. We could get a recall order passed in Parliament in a minute. All the ships would be broken up and sold for scrap within a year. I would see to it.”

  “As would we all, Mikhail. What do we tell Rykand?”

  Vasloff frowned. That was a minor ethical dilemma. He had taken that rich young man’s money on the clear understanding that he would be told everything that Terra Nostra found out about his sister’s death. Yet, what they had discovered was too important to share with someone whose only motive was revenge rooted in personal grief. Whatever was going on out there might prove Terra Nostra’s best hope (or worse nightmare). He considered it a moment, felt his conscience tug at him, and then shook it off.

  “We tell him as little as possible. Call him and report that we have confirmed that Magellan returned early and that there is a hint around headquarters of a world marginally less uninhabitable than our current colonies. As for his sister’s death, tell him the truth. We have learned nothing.”

  #

  Raoul Bendagar sat alone in the conference center and gazed at the holoscreen on the far bulkhead. The screen allowed PoleStar’s scientists to hold secure teleconferences with their colleagues on the ground, and was used to display computer data and the results of experiments. When not used for those purposes, it was switched to whichever hull camera offered the best view of Earth.

  The Earth was a sphere the size of a medicine ball, surrounded by the blackness of space. Centered on the orb was the polar ice cap, with the northernmost reaches of Asia, Europe, and North America surrounding it.

  Without the familiar outlines as a guide, it was easy to imagine that this was New Eden as it had been just before the gravity wave announced the arrival of two alien ships. Perhaps Sar-Say’s planet looked something like this, or the Broan home world. How many other planets were there in the galaxy that could pass for the twin of Earth? The answer, it seemed, was far more than even he had thought. Based on humanity’s rather small sample – Earth and New Eden – approximately one system in fifty must harbor a terrestrial world. That meant the Broan domain was spread among some fifty million suns. A sizable number, but still only a small fraction of the galaxy’s one hundred billion stars.

  His contemplation was suddenly ended by the chime that announced the arrival that he had been waiting for. He checked to see that the recording circuits were operating, and then told his visitor to enter.

  “Good morning, Sar-Say,” he said as the alien pulled himself to the restraint frame opposite Bendagar. “I trust that you slept well.”

  “Very well, Profess ... or. How your night?”

  “I hardly slept at all. Your revelation of the Broa yesterday has us all in an uproar.”

  “Uproar?”

  “Upset, agitated. Dieter Pavel had me up half the night composing a report to his bosses on Earth, and after that, I lay in my cabin and thought about the implications. They are very frightening.”

  “Why?” the Taff asked.

  Bendagar smiled. He had noted yesterday that the alien could relate the most horrific vision of the universe possible without any outward sign of emotion. In his lights, he was merely explaining the way things were. It was as though a modern had tried to discuss the population control act of 2312 with one of the original Pilgrims. Their frames of reference were just too different.

  “Leesa said that you want talk about astronomy.”

  “Yes, I do. I am sure the political people will monopolize your time once they get instructions from home. I thought I would get my licks in first.”

  “Don’t understa
nd.”

  “Not important,” Bendagar replied with an airy wave. “Just tell me about the stars you have seen.”

  “I know very little of stars and galaxies.”

  “You probably know more than you think. At least, I hope that you do. Would you like to go home someday?”

  “Very lot!”

  “I think I may be able to find your home if you will cooperate. I would like to start with the question of how long the Broa have possessed the stargate.”

  “Why?”

  Bendagar repeated the explanation he had given Pavel when that worthy had first arrived aboard, and several times since. Astronomy was not the politician’s strong point, he had discovered. The concept that light-years could be equated to time was an alien one for him.

  However, not for Sar-Say, he quickly discovered. When he finished, the alien shrugged in a very humanlike gesture. “Leesa ask me this once. I must tell you that I not know. I not think it help if I do know.”

  “Why not?” Bendagar asked.

  “Broa expand faster than light using stargate. Maybe first gravity bump on way long after near bump enter solsystem.”

  “Hmm, I hadn’t thought of that.” The alien’s point, the scientist noted, was that as the Broa captured system after system, the limits of their domain expanded faster than one light-year per year. Thus, the borders of the Broan Empire always moved outward faster than the gravity waves produced by their star gates. Thus, if the Broa had invented star travel a million years earlier and a million light-years distant, those first gravity waves would just be reaching Earth. So would the waves from a star gate they had established four years ago in the Alpha Centauri system. In other words, he could use his idea to locate the center of the Broan domain, but not its edges. The conquerors might be much closer than anyone liked.

  “Let us explore the question anyway. How long has it been since the Broa first found you Taff?”

  Sar-Say’s features, which were as mobile as any human’s was, twitched in some unknown expression. “Stories among my people of the time before Broa came. Most told by old ones to cubs very late at night and in depths of own den. Broa not like stories.”

  Bendagar nodded. If you were in the business of subjugating an alien world, the first thing you would do is rob the inhabitants of their native culture. The overlords would likely consider the teaching of pre-Broan history treasonous. A Taff who wished to pass down the old traditions to his descendants would do well to keep a low profile.

  “How long do those stories say that it has been?”

  “Last clan leader of Taff, Uuleri, who live end of last cold era on my world.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Leesa and I work to convert Taff years to human. If accu ... accurate, Broa came to Taff 5000 years ago.”

  The scientist whistled. Five thousand years ago on Earth had seen the first primitive stirrings of civilization in the Nile and the Po River valleys. Yet, the Broa had possessed interstellar travel for some period before that.

  “Was the Broan government young or old in those days?”

  Sar-Say imitated a human shrug. “Who can say?”

  “Right. I will report what you have told me to Dieter Pavel, along with the fact that we have been overlooking the expansion of the Broan realm. Now then, tell me about your travels.”

  “I not understand.”

  “It is simple,” Bendagar said. “From your description of the places you have been, especially the night skies you have seen, I hope to identify some galactic landmark that we can use to establish where a particular sun lies.”

  “You look for stars?”

  Bendagar shook his head. “They look too much alike to the naked eye. What about other things? Glowing clouds at night, black shapes against the band of the galaxy, other odd objects?”

  “One world I visit have large cloud in night sky. Is interest?”

  “I am very much interested, Sar-Say. Please continue—”

  Chapter Nine

  “— Despite all attempts to shake his story, Sar-Say continues to maintain that his society spans a million stellar systems and is under the absolute control of a race of totalitarians called the Broa. As his command of Standard improves, he has provided his interrogators with ever more detailed stories of atrocities committed on other species by these overlords. He recounts these horrors as matter-of-factly as you and I would discuss the weather. Indeed, the psychologists have come to believe that his attitude is the best proof we have that the Broa actually exist. They see an analogy between Sar-Say’s attitude toward the Broa and that of a dog toward its master. Perhaps a better analogy would be the way the ancient Greeks looked at their gods on Mount Olympus. If Zeus or Hera wanted to come down from on high and play a dirty trick on some mortal, then that was their prerogative and not to be questioned. Even when it comes to his own near death at their hands, Sar-Say seems strangely unconcerned.

  “Dr. Burrows, of the Alien Psychology Assessment Group, believes that Sar-Say’s people, the Taff, have borne the Broan yoke for so long that they have been selectively bred into a position of permanent servitude. Professor Vining disagrees. He maintains that Sar-Say’s attitude is merely the rationalization of an intelligent being when faced with an unpalatable situation over which he has no control.

  “I must tell you, Coordinator Halstrom, that I have my doubts. Sar-Say’s stories of the evil Broa seem to me to be too reminiscent of a dark fairy tale. Each time he tells us of a Broan abuse of power, I am put in mind of the Hansel and Gretel legend about what happens to naughty children who wander into the dark forest against their parents’ wishes. Frankly, the galaxy he describes is counter‑intuitive. Many of the scientists have asked what reason he would have to lie to us, as though that were an argument. Perhaps Sar-Say is not the simple trader he claims to be. He could just as easily be a smuggler, or some other sort of criminal. If that is the case, then he was in the midst of being apprehended when his ship jumped into the New Eden system. He may be lying to us in order to poison our minds against the lawful authorities in his region of space. What better way to assure that we will not turn him over to those who would imprison him? I have expressed this possibility in various scientific conferences, and I must report that the reaction has not been favorable. Still, as a story it is much more palatable than his tale of a galaxy controlled by a race of paranoid megalomaniacs.

  “It would appear, Madame Coordinator, that you were very wise not to release this news of Sar-Say’s capture to the media. They would have a field day with the lurid stories he has been telling us. Perhaps the return expedition to New Eden will provide facts with which to refute his story. As it stands now, we must keep the alien under absolute wraps if we are to avoid a system-wide panic.”

  (Signed)

  Dieter Pavel

  Coordinator’s Representative

  #

  Nadine Halstrom sighed as she finished reading Pavel’s report. It had been a week since the first reports of Sar-Say’s claims had been forwarded to her via secure communications link. She remembered the knot that had formed in her stomach, a knot that had yet to loosen. Was it possible that a single species could control a million inhabited star systems? If so, what chance did Earth and her six puny colonies have against such a race?

  What if Dieter Pavel was right? What if Sar-Say was lying to them? He need not be an interstellar criminal to make up such a story. Maybe he was the Taff equivalent of the garrulous old man who makes up stories so people will notice him. On the other hand, if truly a trader, then he might be spinning his yarns in order to exploit humanity to his own benefit. If he frightened them enough, they would remain ignorant of the true situation in this great galactic empire, and would be correspondingly easier for him to cheat.

  Then there were the more grandiose possibilities. What if Sar-Say had been deliberately planted on them? What better way for his masters to avoid human competition than to stage a fake space battle in order to plant an agent among the
m? Perhaps Sar-Say’s people were no stronger than Nadine’s and that they hoped to keep human beings out of their space with stories of a gigantic, rapacious, and totally fictitious galactic empire.

  Finally, there was the most horrifying possibility of all. What if Sar-Say was telling them the simple, unvarnished truth?

  “Come now, Nadine,” she growled under her breath. “You are getting paranoid in your old age.” Of course, she reminded herself, in the universe Sar-Say had described, a little paranoia was not necessarily a bad thing.

  The problem with Pavel’s hypothesis, her own maundering, and Sar-Say’s story was that there was nothing to prove or disprove any of them. Moreover, absent any method for telling the possibilities apart, she would have to assume that Sar-Say’s worst-case scenario was fact.

  An easy principle to proclaim, she thought, but not one that was easy to put into practice. For example, if the galaxy was under whatever the Broa used for thumbs, what should she do about the Stellar Survey? It had been the survey that had brought the Broa to humanity’s attention (and possibly vice versa). Presumably, the more stars they explored, the higher the probability that they would tangle with the Broa again. Logically, then, the survey should be curtailed or ended completely. Yet, by another logic, the survey ought to be accelerated and the great starships sent farther into the void. For if human beings shared the galaxy with the Broa, there was always the risk that they would discover Earth, and having done so, destroy it. Under such a scenario, wouldn’t it be best to spread the human seed as far as possible as insurance against future catastrophe?

  Then there was the problem of the public airwaves. For nearly three hundred years, Earth had been blasting ever-greater levels of electromagnetic energy skyward, forming a great bubble of radio noise that was even now expanding toward the Broan domain. Should they place restrictions on broadcasting, or was it already too late for such precautions? Perhaps some Broan listening post was even now picking up the theme song of I Love Lucy or one of the other legendary programs of the early age of broadcasting.