To Save the Sun

by Ben Bova

  She glanced around the warm, richly furnished room.

  "Any seat you like. My chair rides like a magic carpet."

  Adela picked the biggest couch in the room and tucked herself into a corner of it. The Emperor glided his chair over to her.

  "It's very kind of you to keep the gravity up for me," she said.

  He shrugged. "It costs nothing to be polite… But tell me, of all the minerals for which Gris is famous, why did you choose to wear agate?"

  She blushed.

  The Emperor laughed. "Come, come, my dear. There's nothing to be ashamed of. It's well known that agate is a magical stone that protects the wearer from scorpions and snakes. An ancient superstition, of course, but it could possibly be significant, eh?"

  "No… it's not that!"

  "Then what is it?"

  "It… agate also makes the wearer… eloquent in speech."

  "And a favorite of Princes," added the Emperor.

  Her blush had gone. She sat straighter and almost smiled. "And it gives one victory over her enemies."

  "You perceive me as your enemy?"

  "Oh no!" She reached out toward him, her small, childlike hand almost touching his.

  "Who, then?"

  "The hierarchy… the old men who pretend to be young and refuse to admit any new ideas into the scientific community."

  "I am an old man," the Emperor said.

  "Yes…" She stared frankly at his aged face. "I was surprised when I saw you a few moments ago. I have seen holographic pictures, of course… but you… you've aged."

  "Indeed."

  "Why can't you be rejuvenated? It seems like a useless old superstition to keep the Emperor from using modern biomedical techniques."

  "No, no, my child. It is a very wise tradition. You complain of the inflexible old men at the top of the scientific hierarchy. Suppose you had an inflexible old man in the Emperor's throne? A man who would live not merely seven or eight score of years, but many centuries? What would happen to the Empire then?"

  "Ohh. I see." And there was real understanding and sympathy in her eyes.

  "So the King must die, to make room for new blood, new ideas, new vigor."

  "It's sad," she said. "You are known everywhere as a good Emperor. The people love you."

  He felt his eyebrows rise. "Even on the frontier worlds?"

  "Yes. Most of them know that Fain and his troops would be standing on our necks if it weren't for the Emperor. We are not without our sources of information."

  He smiled. "Interesting."

  "But that is not why you called me here to see you," Adela said.

  She grows bolder. "True. You want to save Earth's Sun. Bomeer and all my advisors tell me that it is either impossible or foolish. I fear that they have powerful arguments on their side."

  "Perhaps," she said. "But I have the facts."

  "I have seen your presentation. I understand the scientific basis of your plan."

  "We can do it!" Adela said, her hands suddenly animated. "We can! The critical mass is really minuscule compared to—"

  "Megatons are minuscule?"

  "Compared to the effect it will produce. Yes."

  And then she was on her feet, pacing the room, ticking off points on her fingers, lecturing, pleading, cajoling. The Emperor's powerchair swung back and forth, following her intense, wiry form as she paced.

  "Of course it will take vast resources! And time—more than a century before we know to a first-order approximation that the initial steps are working. I'll have to give myself up to cryosleep for decades at a time. But we have the resources! And we have the time… just barely. We can do it, if we want to."

  The Emperor said, "How can you expect me to divert half the resources of the Empire to save Earth's Sun?"

  "Because Earth is important," she argued back, a tiny fighter standing alone in the middle of the Emperor's study. "It's the baseline for all the other worlds of the Empire. On Gris we send biogenetic teams to Earth every twenty years to check our own mutation rate. The cost is enormous for us, but we do it. We have to."

  "We can move Earth's population to another G-type star. There are plenty of them."

  "It won't be the same."

  "Adela, my dear, believe me, I would like to help. I know how important Earth is. But we simply cannot afford to try your scheme now. Perhaps in another hundred years or so—"

  "That will be too late."

  "But new scientific advances—"

  "Under Bomeer and his ilk? Hah!"

  The Emperor wanted to frown at her, but somehow his face would not compose itself properly. "You are a fierce, uncompromising woman," he said.

  She came to him and dropped to her knees at his feet. "No, Sire. I'm not. I'm foolish and vain and utterly self-centered. I want to save Earth because I know I can do it. I can't stand the thought of living the rest of my life knowing that I could have done it, but never having had the chance to try."

  Now we're getting at the truth, the Emperor thought.

  "And someday, maybe a million years from now, maybe a billion… Gris' sun will become unstable. I want to be able to save Gris, too. And any other world whose star threatens it. I want all the Empire to know that Adela de Montgarde discovered the way to do it!"

  The Emperor felt his breath rush out of him.

  "Sire," she want on, "I'm sorry if I'm speaking impolitely or stupidly. It's just that I know we can do this thing, do it successfully, and you're the only one who can make it happen."

  But he was barely listening. "Come with me," he said, reaching out to grasp her slim wrists and raising her to her feet. "It's time for the evening meal. I want you to meet my son."

  Javas put on his usual amused smile when the Emperor introduced Adela. Will nothing ever reach under his everlasting façade of polite boredom? Rihana, at least, was properly furious. He could see the anger in her face. A virtual barbarian from some frontier planet. Daughter of a petty noble. Practically a commoner. Dining with them!

  "Such a young child to have such grandiose schemes," the Princess said when she realized who Adela was.

  "Surely," said the Emperor, "you had grandiose schemes of your own when you were young, Rihana. Of course, they involved lineages and marriages rather than astrophysics, didn't they?"

  None of them smiled.

  Emperor Nicholas had ordered dinner out on the terrace, under Corinth's glowing night sky. Rihana, who was responsible for household affairs, always had sumptuous meals spread for them: the best meats and fowl and fruits of a dozen prime worlds. Adela looked bewildered by the array placed in front of her by the servants. Such riches were obviously new to her. The Emperor ate sparingly and watched them all.

  Inevitably the conversation returned to Adela's plan to save Earth's Sun. And Adela, subdued and timid at first, slowly turned lioness once again. She met Rihana's scorn with coldly furious logic. She countered Javas' skepticism with:

  "Of course, since it will take more than a century before the theories behind the project can be proven, you will probably be the Emperor who is remembered by all the human race as the one who saved the Earth."

  Javas' eyes widened slightly. It hit home, the Emperor noticed. For once something affected the boy. This young woman should be kept at the palace.

  But Rihana snapped, "Why should the Crown Prince care about saving Earth? His brother was murdered by an Earthman."

  The Emperor felt his blood turn to ice.

  Adela looked panic-stricken. She turned to the Emperor, wide-eyed, open-mouthed.

  "My eldest son died on Earth. My second son was killed putting down a rebellion on a frontier world, many years ago. My third son died of a viral infection that some have attempted to convince me"—he stared at Rihana—"was assassination. Death is a constant companion in every royal house."

  "Three sons…" Adela seemed ready to burst into tears.

  "I have not punished Earth, nor that frontier world, nor sought to find a possible assassin," the Emperor went
on icily. "My only hope is that my last remaining son will make a good Emperor, despite his… handicaps."

  Javas turned very deliberately in his chair to stare out at the dark forest. He seemed irked by the antagonism between his wife and his father. Rihana glowered like molten steel.

  The dinner ended in dismal, bitter silence. The Emperor sent them all away to their rooms while he remained on the terrace and stared hard at the gleaming lights in the heavens that crowded out the darkness.

  He closed his eyes and summoned a computer-assisted image of Earth's Sun. He saw it coalesce from a hazy cloud of cold gas and dust, saw it turn into a star and spawn planets. Saw it beaming out energy that allowed life to grow and flourish on one of those planets. And then saw it age, blemish, erupt, swell and finally collapse into a dark cinder.

  Just as I will, thought the Emperor. The Sun and I have both reached the age where a bit of rejuvenation is needed. Otherwise… death.

  He opened his eyes and looked down at his veined, fleshless, knobby hands. How different from hers! How young and vital she is.

  With a touch on one of the control studs set into the arm of his powerchair, he headed for his bedroom.

  I cannot be rejuvenated. It is wrong even to desire it. But the Sun? Would it be wrong to try? Is it proper for puny men to tamper with the destinies of the stars themselves?

  Once in his tower-top bedroom he called for her. Adela came to him quickly, without delay or question. She wore a simple knee-length gown tied loosely at the waist. It hung limply over her childlike figure.

  "You sent for me, Sire." It was not a question but a statement. The Emperor knew her meaning: I will do what you ask, but in return I expect you to give me what I desire.

  He was already reclining in the soft embrace of his bed. The texture of the monolayer surface felt soft and protective. The warmth of the water beneath it eased his tired body.

  "Come here, child. Come and talk to me. I hardly ever sleep anymore; it gives my doctors something to worry about. Come and sit beside me and tell me all about yourself… the parts of your life story that are not on file in the computers."

  She sat on the edge of the huge bed, and its nearly living surface barley dimpled under her spare body.

  "What would you like to know?" she asked.

  "I have never had a daughter," the Emperor said. "What was your childhood like? How did you become the woman you are?"

  She began to tell him. Living underground in the mining settlements on Gris. Seeing sunlight only when the planet was far enough from its too-bright star to let humans walk the surface safely. Playing in the tunnels. Sent by her parents to other worlds for schooling. The realization that her beauty was not physical. The few lovers she had known. The astronomer who had championed her cause to the Emperor at that meeting nearly fifty years ago. Their brief marriage. Its breakup when he realized that being married to her kept him from advancing in the hierarchy.

  "You have known pain, too," the Emperor said.

  "It's not an Imperial prerogative," she answered softly. "Everyone who lives knows pain."

  By now the sky was milky white with the approach of dawn. The Emperor smiled at her.

  "Before breakfast everyone in the palace will know that you spent the night with me. I'm afraid I have ruined your reputation."

  She smiled back. "Or perhaps made it."

  He reached out and took her by the shoulders. Holding her at arm's length, he searched her face with a long, sad, almost fatherly look.

  "It would not be a kindness to grant your request. If I allow you to pursue this dream of yours, have you any idea of the enemies it would make for you? Your life would be so cruel, so filled with envy and hatred."

  "I know that," Adela said evenly. "I've known that from the beginning."

  "And you are not afraid?"

  "Of course I'm afraid! But I won't turn away from what I must do. Not because of fear. Not because of envy or hatred or any other reason."

  "Not even for love?"

  He felt her body stiffen. "No," she said. "Not even for love."

  The Emperor let his hands drop away from her and called out to the computer, "Connect me with Prince Javas, Academician Bomeer and Commander Fain."

  "At once, Sire."

  Their holographic images quickly appeared on separate segments of the farthest wall of the bedroom. Bomeer, halfway around the planet in late afternoon, was at his ornate desk. Fain appeared to be on the bridge of a warship in orbit around the planet. Javas, of course, was still in bed. It was not Rihana who lay next to him.

  The Emperor's first impulse was disapproval, but then he wondered where Rihana was sleeping.

  "I am sorry to intrude on you so abruptly," he said to all three of the men, while they were still staring at the slight young woman sitting on the bed with their Emperor. "I have made my decision on the question of trying to save the Earth's Sun."

  Bomeer folded his hands on the desktop. Fain, on his feet, shifted uneasily. Javas arched an eyebrow and looked more curious than anything else.

  "I have listened to all your arguments and find that there is much merit in them. I have also listened carefully to Dr. Montgarde's arguments, and find much merit in them, as well."

  Adela sat rigidly beside him. The expression on her face was frozen: She feared nothing and expected nothing. She neither hoped nor despaired. She waited.

  "We will move the Imperial throne and all the Court to Earth's only moon," said the Emperor.

  They gasped. All of them.

  "Since this project to save the Sun will take many human generations, we will want the seat of the Empire close enough to the project so that the Emperor may take a direct view of the progress."

  "But you can't move the entire capital!" Fain protested. "And to Earth! It's a backwater—"

  "Supreme Commander Fain," the Emperor said sternly. "Yesterday you were prepared to move Earth's millions. I ask now that the fleet move the Court's thousands. And Earth will no longer be a backwater when the Empire is centered once again at the original home of the human race."

  Bomeer sputtered, "But… but what if her plan fails? The sun will explode… and…"

  "That is a decision to be made in the future."

  He glanced at Adela. Her expression had not changed, but she was breathing rapidly now. The excitement had hit her body, it hadn't yet penetrated her emotional defenses.

  "Father," Javas said, "may I point out that it takes fifteen years in realtime to reach the Earth from here? The Empire cannot be governed without an Emperor for that long."

  "Quite true, my son. You will go to Earth before me. Once there, you will become acting Emperor while I make the trip."

  Javas' mouth dropped open. "The acting Emperor? For fifteen years?"

  "With luck," the Emperor said, grinning slightly, "old age will catch up with me before I reach Earth, and you will be the full-fledged Emperor for the rest of your life."

  "But I don't want…"

  "I know, Javas. But you will be Emperor someday. It is a responsibility you cannot avoid. Fifteen years of training will stand you in good stead."

  The Prince sat up straighter in his bed, his face serious, his eyes meeting his father's steadily.

  "And son," the Emperor went on, "to be an Emperor—even for fifteen years—you must be master of your own house."

  Javas nodded. "I know, Father. I understand. And I will be."

  "Good."

  Then the Prince's impish smile flitted across his face once again. "But tell me… suppose, while you are in transit toward Earth, I decide to move the Imperial capital elsewhere? What then?"

  His father smiled back at him. "I believe I will just have to trust you not to do that."

  "You would trust me?" Javas asked.

  "I always have."

  Javas' smile took on a new pleasure. "Thank you, Father. I will be waiting for you on Earth's Moon. And for the lovely Dr. Montgarde as well."

  Bomeer was still livid. "All this u
prooting of everything… the costs… the manpower… over an unproven theory!"

  "Why is the theory unproven, my friend?" the Emperor asked.

  Bomeer's mouth opened and closed like a fish's, but no words came out.

  "It is unproven," said the Emperor, "because our scientists have never gone so far before. In fact, the sciences of the Hundred Worlds have not made much progress at all in several generations. Isn't that true, Bomeer?"

  "We… Sire, we have reached a natural plateau in our understanding of the physical universe. It has happened before. Our era is one of consolidation and practical application of already-acquired knowledge, not new basic breakthroughs."

  "Well, this project will force some new thinking and new breakthroughs, I warrant. Certainly we will be forced to recruit new scientists and engineers by the shipload. Perhaps that will be impetus enough to start the climb upward again, eh, Bomeer? I never did like plateaus."

  The academician lapsed into silence.

  "And I see you, Fain," the Emperor said, "trying to calculate in your head how much of your fleet's strength is going to be wasted on this old man's dream."

  "Sire, I had no—"

  The Emperor waved him into silence. "No matter. Moving the capital won't put much of a strain on the fleet, will it?"

  "No, Sire. But this project to save Earth—"

  "We will have to construct new ships for that, Fain. And we will have to turn to the frontier worlds for them." He glanced at Adela. "I believe that the frontier worlds will gladly join the effort to save Earth's Sun. And their treasuries will be enriched by our purchase of thousands of new ships."

  "While the Imperial treasury is depleted."

  "It's a rich Empire, Fain. It's time we shared some of our wealth with the frontier worlds. A large shipbuilding program will do more to reconcile them with the Empire than anything else we can imagine."

  "Sire," said Fain bluntly, "I still think it's madness."

  "Yes, I know. Perhaps it is. I only hope that I live long enough to find out, one way or the other."

  "Sire," Adela said breathlessly, "you will be reuniting all the worlds of the Empire into a closely knit human community such as we haven't seen in centuries!"

  "Perhaps. It would be pleasant to believe so. But for the moment, all I have done is to implement a decision to try to save Earth's Sun. It may succeed; it may fail. But we are sons and daughters of planet Earth, and we will not allow our original homeworld to be destroyed without struggling to our uttermost to save it."