depicted on the maps. It all got very confusing.
Finally, nobody claimed to have proved conclusively that the world
on the maps wasn't Earth. Admittedly it didn't look like Earth, and
attempts to derive the modern distribution of terrestrial
continents from the land areas on the maps had met with no success
at all. But the planet's gravity hadn't been all that much
different. Maybe the surface of Earth had undergone far greater
changes over the last fifty thousand years than had been previously
thought? Furthermore, Danchekker's arguments still carried a lot of
weight, and any theory that discounted them would have an awful lot
of explaining to do. But by that time, most of the scientists
working on the project had reached a stage where nothing would have
surprised them any more, anyway.
"Got your message. Came straight over," Hunt announced as Lyn
Garland ushered him into Caldwell's office. Caidwell nodded toward
one of the chairs opposite his desk, and Hunt sat down. Caidwell
glanced at Lyn, who was still standing by the door.
"It's okay," he said. She left, closing the door behind her.
Caldwell fixed Hunt with an expressionless stare for a few seconds,
at the same time drumming his fingers on the desk. "You've seen a
lot of the setup here during the past few months. What do you think
of it?"
Hunt shrugged. The answer was obvious.
"I like it. Exciting things happen around here."
"You like exciting things happening, huh?" The executive director
nodded, half to himself. He remained thoughtful for what seemed a
long time. "Well, you've only seen part of what goes on. Most
people have no idea how big UNSA is these days. All the things you
see around here-the labs, the installations, the launch
areas-that's just the backup. Our main business is up front." He
gestured toward the photographs adorning one of the walls. "We have
people right now exploring the Martian deserts, flying probes down
through the clouds of Venus, and walking on the moons of Jupiter.
In the deep-space units in California, they're designing ships that
will make Vegas and even the Jupiter Mission ships
look like paddleboats. Photon-drive robot probes that will make the
first jump to the stars-some seven miles long! Think of it- seven
miles long!"
Hunt did his best to react in the appropriate manner. The problem
was, he wasn't sure what manner was appropriate. Caldwell never
said or did anything without a reason. The reason for this turn of
conversation was far from obvious.
"And that's only the beginning," Caidwell went on. "After that, men
will follow the robots. Then-who knows? This is the biggest thing
the human race has ever embarked on: USA, US Europe, Canada, the
Soviets, the Australians-they're all in on it together. Where does
a thing like that go once it starts moving, huh? Where does it
stop?"
For the first time since his arrival at Houston, Hunt detected a
hint of emotion in the American's voice. He nodded slowly, though
still not comprehending.
"You didn't drag me here to give me a UNSA commercial," he said.
"No, I didn't," Caidwell agreed. "I dragged you over because it's
time we had a serious talk. I know enough about you to know how the
wheels go round inside your head. You are made out of the same
stuff as the guys who are making all the things happen out there."
He sat back in his chair and held Hunt's gaze with a direct stare.
"I want you to quit messing around at IDCC and come over to us."
The statement caught Hunt like a right hook.
"What. . . ! To Navcomms!"
"Correct. Let's not play games. You're the kind of person we need,
and we can give you the things you need. I know I don't have to
make a big speech to explain myself."
Hunt's initial surprise lasted perhaps half a second. Already the
computer in his head was churning out answers. Caidwell had been
building toward this and testing him out for weeks. So, that was
why he had moved in Navcomms engineers to take over running the
scope. Had the thought been in his mind as long ago as that?
Already Hunt had no doubt what the outcome of the interview would
be. However, the rules of the game demanded that the set questions
be posed and answered before anything final could be pronounced.
Instinctively he reached for his cigarette case, but Caldwell
preempted him and slid his cigar box across the desk.
"You seem pretty confident you've got what I need," Hunt said as he
selected a Havana. "I'm not sure even I know what that is."
"Don't you. . . ? Or is it that you just don't like talking about
it?" Caldwell stopped to light his own cigar. He puffed until
satisfied, then continued: "New Cross to the Journal of the Royal
Society, solo. Some achievement." He made a gesture of approval.
"We like self-starters over here-sorta . . . traditional. What made
you do it?" He didn't wait for a reply. "First electronics, then
mathematics . . . after that nuclear physics, later on nudeonics.
What's next, Dr. Hunt? Where do you go from there?" He settled back
and exhaled a cloud of smoke while Hunt considered the question.
Hunt raised his eyebrows in mild admiration. "You seem to have been
doing your homework," he said.
Caldwell didn't answer directly but asked, simply, "How was your
uncle in Lagos when you visited him on vacation last year? Did he
prefer the weather to Worcester, England? Seen much of Mike from
Cambridge lately? I doubt it-he joined UNSA; he's been at Hellas
Two on Mars for the last eight months. Want me to go on?"
Hunt was too mature to feel indignant; besides, he liked to see a
professional in action. He smiled faintly.
"Ten out of ten."
At once Caldwell's mood became deadly serious. He leaned forward
and spread his elbows on the desk.
"I'll tell you where you go from here, Dr. Hunt," he said. "Out
-out to the stars! We're on our way to the stars over here! It
started when Danchekker's fish first crawled up out of the mud. The
urge that made them do it is the same as the one that's driven you
all your life. You've gone inside the atom as far as you can go;
there's only one way left now-out. That's what UNSA has to offer
that you can't refuse."
There was nothing Hunt could add. Two futures lay spread out before
him: One led back to Metadyne, the other beckoned onwards toward
infinity. He was as incapable of choosing the first as his species
was of returning to the depths of the sea.
"What's your side of the deal, then?" he asked after some
reflection.
"You mean, what do you have that we need?"
"Yes."
"We need the way your brain works. You can think sideways. You see
problems from different angles that nobody else uses. That's what I
need to bust open this Charlie business. Everybody argues so much
because they're making assumptions that seem obvious but that they
shouldn't be making. It takes a special kind of mind to figure out
/>
what's wrong when things that anybody with common sense can see are
true turn out to be not true. I think you're the guy."
The compliments made Hunt feel slightly uncomfortable. He decided
to move things along. "What do you have in mind?"
"Well, the guys we have at present are top grade inside their own
specialties," Caldwell replied. "Don't get me wrong, these people
are good-but I'd like them to concentrate on doing the things
they're best at. However, aside from all that, I need someone with
an unspecialized, and therefore impartial, outlook to coordinate
the findings of the specialists and integrate them into an overall
picture. If you like, I need people like Danchekker to paint the
pieces of the puzzle, but I need someone like you to fit the pieces
together. You've been doing a bit of that, unofficially, for quite
a while anyway; I'm saying, 'Let's make it official."
"How about the organization?" Hunt asked.
"I've thought about that. I don't want to alienate any of our
senior people by subordinating them or any of their staffs to some
new whiz kid. That's only good politics. Anyhow, I don't think
you'd want it that way."
Hunt shook his head to show his agreement.
"So," Caidwell resumed, "what I figure is, the various departments
and sections will continue to function as they do at present. Our
relationship with outfits outside Navcomms will remain unaffected.
However, all the conclusions that everybody has reached so far, and
new findings as they turn up, will be referred to a centralized
coordinating section-that's you. Your job will be to fit the bits
together, as I said earlier. You'd build up your own staff as time
goes on and the work load increases. You'd be able to request any
particular items of information you find you need from the
specialist functions; that way you'd be defining some of their
objectives. As for your objectives, they're abeady spelled out:
Find out who these Charlie people were, where they came from, and
what happened to them. You report directly to me and get the whole
problem off my back. I've got enough on my sched
ule without worrying about corpses." Caldwell threw out an arm to
show that he was finished. "Well, what do you say?"
Hunt had to smile within himself. As Caldwell had said, there was
really nothing to think about. He took a long breath and turned
both hands upward. "As you said-an offer I can't refuse."
"So, you're in?"
"I'm in.'~
"Welcome aboard, then." Caidwell looked pleased. "This calls for a
drink." He produced a flask and glasses from somewhere behind the
desk. He poured the whiskey and passed a glass to his newest
employee.
"When do you want it to start?" Hunt asked after a moment.
"Well, you probably need a couple of months or so to sort out
formalities with IDCC. But why wait for formalities? You're on loan
here from IDCC anyway and under my direction for the duration;
also, we're paying for you. So what's wrong with tomorrow morning?"
"Christ!"
Caldwell's manner at once became brisk and businesslike.
"I'll allocate offices for you in this building. Rob Gray takes
full charge of scope operations and keeps the engineers I've
assigned to him as his permanent staff for as long as he's in
Houston. That frees you totally. By the end of this week I want
estimates of what you think you'll need in the way of clerical and
secretarial staff, technical personnel, equipment, furniture, lab
space, and computer facilities.
"By this time next week I want you to have a presentation ready for
a meeting of section and department heads that I'm going to call,
to tell them how you see yourself and them working together. Make
it tactful. I won't issue any official notification of these
changes until after the meeting, when everybody knows what's going
on. Don't talk about it until then, except to myself and Lyn.
"Your ouffit will be designated Special Assignment Group L, and
your position, will be section head, Group L. The post is classed
as 'Executive, grade four, civilian,' within the Space Arm. It
carries all the appropriate benefits of free use of UNSA vehicles
and aircraft, access to restricted files up to category three, and
standard issues of clothing and accessories for duties overseas or
off-planet. All that is in the Executive Staff Manual; details of
reporting structures, admin procedures, and that kind of thing are
in the UNSA Corporate Policy Guide. Lyn will get you copies.
"You'll have to get in touch with the federal authorities in
Houston regarding permanent residence in the USA; Lyn knows the
right people. Arrange transfer of your personal belongings from
England at your own convenience and charge it to Naycomms. We'll
help out finding you somewhere to live, but in the meantime stay on
at the Ocean."
Hunt had the fleeting thought that had Caldwell been born three
thousand years previously, Rome might well have been built in a
day.
"What's your current salary?" Caldwell asked.
"Twenty-five thousand European dollars."
"We'll make it thirty."
Hunt nodded mutely.
Caldwell paused and checked mentally for anything he might have
overlooked. Finding nothing, he sat back and raised his glass.
"Cheers, then, Vic."
It was the first time he had addressed Hunt informally.
"Cheers."
"To the stars."
"To the stars."
A low roar from a point outside the city reached the room. They
glanced toward the window to see a column of light climbing into
the blue as a Vega lifted off from a distant launch pad. A quiet
surge of excitement welled up in Hunt's veins as he took in the
sight. It was a symbol of the ultimate expression of man's outward
urge, and he was about to become part of it.
chapter ten
Demands for the services of Special Assignment Group L commenced as
soon as the new unit officially went into operation, and they
continued to increase rapidly in the weeks that followed. By the
end of a month Hunt was swamped and forced to take on extra people
at a faster rate than he had intended. Originally his idea had been
to keep going with a skeleton staff for a while, at least until he
formed a better idea of what was required. When Caldwell first
announced the establishment of the new group, there had been one or
two instances of petty jealousy and resentment, but the attitude
that prevailed in the end was that Hunt had contributed several
worthwhile ideas, and it seemed oniy sensible to get him in on the
team permanently. After a while, even the dissenters grudgingly
began to concede that things seemed to run more smoothly with Group
L around. Some of them eventually did a complete about-face and
became enthusiastic supporters of the scheme, as they came to
appreciate that the communication channels to Hunt's people worked
in bidirectional mode, and for every bit of data they fed in, ten
bits came back in the other direction. As the oil thus added to
Caldwell's jigsaw-puzzle-solving machine began to prove effective,
the machine shifted fully into top gear, and suddenly pieces
started fitting together.
The Mathematics section was still working on the equations and
formulas found in the books. Since mathematical relationships would
remain true irrespective of the conventions used to express them,
their interpretation was a far less arbitrary affair than that of
deciphering the Lunarian language. The mathematicians had been
stimulated by the discovery of the mass conversion table. They
turned their attention to the other tables contained in the same
book and soon found one that listed many commonly used physical and
mathematical constants. From it they quickly picked out pi as well
as e, the base of natural logarithms, and one or two more, but they
still didn't understand the system of units well enough to evaluate
the majority.
Another set of tables turned Out to be simple trigonometric
functions; these were easily recognized once the cartographers had
provided the units of circular measure. The h~adings of the
coluinns of these tables gave the Lunarian symbols for sine,
cosine, tangent, and the like. Once these were known, many of the
mathematical expressions elsewhere started making more sense; some
of them fell out immediately as familiar trigonometric
relationships. These in turn helped establish the conventions used
to denote normal arithmetic operations and that of exponentiation,
which led to the identification of the equations of mechanical
motion. Nobody was surprised when these equations revealed that
Lunarian scientists had deduced the same laws as Newton. The
mathematicians progressed to tables of elementary first integrals
and standard forms of low-order differential equations. On later
pages were expressions which they suspected might describe systems
of resonance and damped oscillations. Here again, the uncertainty
over units presented a problem; expressions of this type would be
in a standard form that could apply equally well to electrical,
mechanical, thermal, or many other types of physical phenomena.
Until they knew more about Lunarian units, they could not be sure
precisely what these equations meant, even if they succeeded in
Giant Series 01 - Inherit the Stars Page 10