by Ian Miller
The tea tasted like nothing Jane had ever tasted before, and there were these funny cookies. They tasted quite good, Jane had to admit, but they were made from unrefined flour. How could they? Then she realized: nothing they had eaten had come from FoodBund; no appliances came from GenCorp; everything was homemade, or was brought from somewhere else, presumably another independent settlement.
It seemed so futile to Jane, to cut themselves off so completely. And to be so happy about it!
Chapter 4
Commissioner Natasha Kotchetkova sat wearily at the table in her hotel dressing room. She noted with approval that there were no mirrors, except for the one laying face down at the side of the dressing table. As a Commissioner she was entitled to luxury beyond access to virtually all citizens. Instead, she requested the largest, most secure suite, with most of the luxurious furniture removed. She wanted a comfortable bed, a communications suite, a work desk, computer facilities, and little else.
As she sat at her desk, she took off her gloves and absent-mindedly removed her facemask. She poured herself a vodka, took a gulp, and leaned back as the effect began to flow through her. She needed to relax so she picked up her quaflute, an authentic twenty-first century original, and began to blow. A mournful melody of the late twenty-second century slowly filled the room, a melody from a time when the availability of the quarter tones were at last put to good use. It was a difficult instrument to play at the best of times, because the notes had to be made with the assistance of a thumb-slide and good breath control, in addition to the normal flute controls. Natasha Kotchetkova did not have lips in the usual sense, yet she could still make the notes.
The melancholic music matched her mood. Time was the one commodity she had so little to spare, and she had wasted it on this visit. She had presented the case for military spending fairly, to students for whom fairness was irrelevant and for whom the law of unintended consequences was meaningless. If, as the students wanted, the money being spent on the military were diverted to alleviate social ills, the unfortunate consequence would be that those social ills would become far worse. In principle, Justice enforced the law but in practice only Defence prevented uncontrolled pillage by would-be corporate warlords, and only the formation of Defence, an overwhelming force for all people, had put an end to extortion based on power. That Defence had barely been used since being formed after the catastrophic events that started early in the twenty-first century showed its value, yet that very achievement was taken by the students as the strongest reason to dismember it.
Justice had neither the power nor the commitment to guarantee minority rights. It was true that Commissioner Garrett was above corruption in the usual sense. But while Elizabeth Garrett did not take bribes, she had no fire. She would act fearlessly against the corporations if she thought she could clearly win, but she did not seek trouble, and if something was kept discreetly out of sight and could be termed "common practice" she would ignore it. Just because every corporate was doing the same thing did not make it right!
The students argued that since there was no visible enemy, the military must be accumulating weapons to use against the people, a polite way of referring to the corporations, or to crush those countries outside the Federation. She was used to this; abusive mindless students were nothing new. Abusive students desperately trying to demonstrate their true corporate feelings, whether to impress future employers or to preserve their families' prosperous life-styles, were also nothing new.
What had bothered her was the accusation that Defence was building super weapons. The difficulty was, in one sense it was true, it was highly secret, but it had nothing whatsoever to do with South America. Yes, it was her pet project. It had started long ago, under the direct orders of Grigori Timoshenko, and he had always refused to comment on exactly why he had started it. She knew why she was continuing, though. It was not the weapons aspects, but rather the possibility of a radically new source of motive power for space vehicles. This work arose from studies on what had previously been considered scientific oddities.
Since the twentieth century, matter had been known to consist of three families of quarks and leptons. The first family contained the up and down quarks with the weird electric charge of plus two thirds and minus one third, the negative electron and the electron neutrino, and all ordinary matter was derived from this. Two up and a down, two down and an up made the proton and the neutron. But there were also two other so-called irrelevant families, of parallel but heavier particles. In the second family, the strange and the charmed quark had the same unusual charges of minus one third and plus two thirds; the muon was almost identical to the electron, except it was roughly two hundred times heavier, and the muon neutrino was, well, different from the electron neutrino.
Space propulsion now depended on "cold" fusion. When the nuclei of isotopes of hydrogen could be brought together and fused, helium was formed; this was what drove the sun. The mass of the helium was slightly less than the masses of the hydrogen isotopes, and this lost mass was recovered as the energy to drive the vessels. To avoid having to create temperatures and pressures far in excess of a star core, deuterium and tritium were used instead of the hydrogen that drove the star. Temperatures and pressures could be reduced further by using the muon to catalyse the reactions. The muon, being much heavier than an electron, allowed the nuclei to be much closer together, which made fusion much easier, and following the fusion the muon was ejected to allow it to assist more fusions. In the lifetime of the muon a number of such events took place, and once it had been learned how extend this lifetime and prevent the muon from 'sticking' to particular nuclei, this was initially the most efficient fusion motor. But there was a price. The generation of power by fusion still required huge masses; the resultant ships were large for the power generated, and a good fraction of that was required to make the muons in the first place.
In principle, antimatter offered the ideal alternative. When matter and antimatter were brought together, the conversion to energy was total. There was no possible more efficient source of energy. There were only two problems: the antimatter had to be stored and transferred in total isolation of matter, such as pipes and containment vessels or air. Touch the containment and the entire fuel supply became a bomb of immense power. So far, all attempts at motor designs were simply designs for contained bombs. There was an even worse problem. In principle forward momentum could be obtained by reflecting the forward going energy, but this was in the form of exceedingly short-wave gamma type radiation that penetrated and vaporized all known materials. So, rather than propelling the ship, the radiation went through the ship, sterilizing all life. Antimatter might be an interesting source of energy, but not to anybody in a ship containing it. At least, not so far.
Once the trick of storing irrelevant matter had been learned, however, there was a dramatic new alternative. When strange or charmed matter decayed, nearly all of its mass was liberated as energy, and most of the particles were charged, which meant that fields could be used to create directed force. The energy was not free; it had to be found to make the strange matter in the first place. The key was that once the physics and the technology had been developed to store it, then the energy could be generated in a fusion plant, and the resultant matter used as a fuel. Matter made from strange and charmed quarks was an incredibly powerful energy storage cell. The containment required substantial equipment, but the generation of power did not; all that was required was that the matter be liberated in a controlled fashion, in amounts so small as to be beyond belief.
The consequence was that Earth could now consider the exploration of interstellar space. Strictly speaking, this had long been technically possible. Ships could be built on which families would live, but the time required for the journey meant that several generations would live and die before the journey's end. It was remarkably difficult to persuade anyone to either fund or travel on such a voyage, when the result would not be known for hundreds of years, particularly when ther
e was no idea what would lie at the other end. If there were no planets suitable for settlement, sooner or later the life support systems for such a ship would fail, leading to the inevitable death of all aboard. That was not an attractive prospect.
However, the real reason for this Defence research could never be disclosed. Earth had to develop, and quickly. The deep space telescopes had discovered beyond any shadow of doubt that there was a nearby civilization capable of interstellar travel, a civilization considerably more advanced technologically than Terran civilization. So far Terran society had been left alone, but nobody knew why. If the aliens arrived, Defence had to be ready. Earth would never initiate a fight, but if the aliens wished to invade, the citizens of Earth had to stand or die; there was simply nowhere to run. Natasha, like those few who knew about them, prayed that the aliens would be peaceful. She believed they would be, but if she were wrong the price would be too terrible to contemplate. And therein lay one of her problems: she could not disclose their existence because if she did, it was quite possible Terran society could disintegrate.
There was no simple solution, Natasha realized wearily. Her body ached, but her heart ached more. For her there could be no love, no warmth. No man could look upon her body without shuddering. As a girl she had dreamed romantic dreams; a white shining knight would sweep her off her feet. Someone handsome, someone as intelligent as she was, someone as determined as she was, someone who could accept her desire to excel, and someone to stand beside her, of equal stature. The someone, she now accepted, who did not exist, who could not exist. She had been spared the need to compromise, for after the incident there could be no someone, no anyone. Her body was twisted, sterile, useless, and would soon be lifeless. Soon, she would be no more, she had so much to do, and she was so so tired. Her body was just too weak for the demands she continually placed on it.
She knew that she had been appointed to the Commission for the wrong reasons. The story of her heroism had caught the public imagination, and even many corporations preferred her to that impertinent fop Streckov, the bemedalled chief of the regular armed forces. There was also a second reason: it was well known that her surviving the incident was temporary. Most who had voted for her expected her to do nothing of significance except occupy the position while a strategy could be worked out to find an alternative.
Well, they were wrong about her. She was showing them! She had survived, she had done her job as no other Defence Commissioner had ever done since the legendary Timoshenko, she had support from almost nobody, she should be triumphant and yet here she was, exhausted, aching, unable even to dispose of student accusations.
Normally accusations could be laughed at, but this time it was different. There was a specific accusation, namely that Defence had developed a weapon and tested it by destroying an asteroid. The difficulty was that the asteroid had unquestionably been destroyed by something, and nobody knew what. The public statements had described it as a collision between it and a similar sized body travelling in the opposite direction: a one in a trillion accident. No mention here that all planetary bodies travel in the same rotational direction. A comet could travel in the 'wrong' direction, but a comet that close to the star would have been seen. So for once, the students who refused to accept the publicly stated explanation were actually correct. However, their assertion that Defence was responsible was definitely not correct: she had no more idea what the cause of that incident was than they did. The most likely explanation, she had to admit, was that it was caused by the nearby aliens. She was suddenly brought back from her dreams by a knock at the door.
"Commissioner. There's a candidate who insists on seeing you." The voice came from outside the door.
"The Commissioner does not see candidates, stop!" She stated coldly.
"He insists. He says he has information you absolutely must have."
"I do not speak to unknowns. Tell him to go away."
There was a pause, then, "He says you know of him, and if you don't see what he has, you'll regret it."
Oh God! That pilot who destroyed the GenCorp vessel. Now he's going to threaten me. Me, of all people!
She stared bitterly at the wall. It had come to this, her reputation unable even to repel this piece of crude crap. With all the problems humanity had to face, greed always came to the fore, and all this stupid little boy had to offer was extortion. Was there no sense of values left? On the other hand, this boy was correct on one count: she could not afford this incident to make the news. He might think he could force her into giving him some advantage. She would: advanced entry to a Labour Camp.
"Tell him that he should go away, but if he can't take that hint, send the stupid fool in." Her voice grated the last sentence out as harshly as she could. Surely the boy would take the hint.
"He insists. It's a Mr Lansfeld."
Yes, it would be! She sat, head in her hands, totally disappointed as she heard the door open, and footsteps approach half way towards her back. The footsteps stopped, and clicked rapidly, as if the body had come to attention. In fact, he had marched in. A curious way to start a threat.
"Commissioner!"
"Well, out with it," she sighed, as she swivelled around to examine the young man. He had been rigidly at attention, with a good military demeanour, but he had slumped, his mouth was open, and the expression on his face was totally shocked. The man gulped, stammered, and then Natasha Kotchetkova realized the cause of his problem. Her facemask was off.
Harry struggled for control. The face in front of him was hideous. There was no appreciable nose, the left cheek was missing, and the dreadfully scarred tissue was pulled up accordingly. The eyes were placed in the face, but the sockets did not seem to be there.
"I'm sorry," the Commissioner said as she swivelled back towards the table. "I didn't mean to shock you. The mask is uncomfortable after a while, and since I don't usually allow others into my dressing room, I took it off and forgot about it. I'll put it back on, then if you insist on staying, I'll hear you out."
"If it's uncomfortable, please don't."
"What?" Natasha turned around incredulously.
"I mean it, " Harry replied. "I'm sorry for my reaction. It must have hurt you to see my expression, but I was just so surprised. If you don't mind my asking, how . . ?"
"If you must know," Natasha said, as she shook her head slowly, "this is the price you sometimes have to pay for doing your duty." She stopped speaking, and stared wistfully at the far wall.
"I'm sorry," Harry murmured. "I . . ."
Natasha suddenly sat upright and turned towards Harry. "Tell me what you want, since you seem as if you're hell bent on destroying my last few illusions."
"I have information," Harry protested.
"And what could you possibly know that would interest me?"
"If you told the truth outside . . ."
"If I told the truth? Be very careful young man!" the Commissioner interrupted quietly, but in a tone that left little doubt about the intensity of the warning.
"I know how the asteroid was destroyed," Harry went on, getting to the point quickly, "and unless you destroyed it, you have a problem. In fact, you have at least thirty-four or so of them."
"What?" The Commissioner, for the first time, was totally taken back.
"There are at least thirty-four of whatever destroyed that asteroid," Harry said evenly. "The 'at least' part comes from the difficulty of resolving them at such a distance."
"Thirty-four what?" the Commissioner asked. The anger was now gone, to be replaced by almost total disbelief. "Young man, Defence has no idea what destroyed that asteroid. I gather Australian students don't believe me, and I don't intend to defend myself . . ."
"You don't have to convince me," Harry said. "I know this will probably end my career right now, but you have to be told. I can demonstrate that there are at least thirty-four alien space vehicles in this solar system, with performances that outstrip anything we have, both in speed and destructive power. I came
because I felt it was imperative that you knew and fully understood."
"That I understood?" the Commissioner almost grated, then suddenly she seemed to have come to a decision to take the situation seriously, at least for the moment. "Let me see your evidence." There was no clue in her face as to whether she believed him, but then, Harry realized, that face would be very difficult to read at any time.
"It was my space project," Harry started. "I have these." He stopped and pulled out a huge sheaf of pictorial printout. "These are background subtracted, and the only objects are supposed to be planets and their moons. But look at these," and he laid out the photographs in front of the Commissioner.
"Now this sequence here is relevant," he said, and pointed to a series of photographs with streaks on them. "Look at the times. Here, early in the evening, this light was seen near Uranus. I had the deep space telescopes set on Uranus, you see," he added.
"I recall your rather interesting topic," Natasha nodded sarcastically.
"It wasn't the greatest," Harry conceded. He spread out a sequence of photographs with a large number of reasonably intense streaks on it. "These came from the gamma detectors. Now, there shouldn't be any gamma emitters around Uranus."
"Suppose it was background?" Natasha asked cautiously. "There's a lot of the rest of the Universe out there."
"That's true," Harry said with a smile, "but I wouldn't bother you with uncharacterized streaks. Look at the times on the continuous gamma recording, and the optical records. See, here, for a very brief time, the optical signal coincides with that of Umbriel, and the gamma signal stays. It is in front of Umbriel, so we can eliminate the rest of the Universe."