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Giant Series 01 - Inherit the Stars

Page 10

by Inherit the Stars [lit]


  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

 

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