To Save the Sun

by Ben Bova

  "Yes?" Rice crossed the lab and stood facing his friend. "And—?"

  "Your rejuvenation methods. They would not be as effective on this one as on your species, but they would work, no?"

  Rice exhaled heavily, his cheeks puffing out, and shrugged uncertainly. "I… I'm not sure. It's never been tried, but I don't see why it couldn't be adapted for Sarpan chemistry."

  "And cryosleep could be used to make the rejuvenation more effective, no?"

  Rice nodded nervously. What Oidar was suggesting represented a level of interspecies cooperation that was unprecedented.

  Oidar twisted off the helmet and held it under one arm as he stroked the front of his suit with the other. He lifted his chin in a way that suggested both pride and courage and said, "Temple, this one wishes to work with his children, and to remain a part of the project until its conclusion."

  PART SIX

  HOMECOMING

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  "This is wrong," Adela said as the small transport shuttle was brought in a mere sixty meters away from where they now stood. She turned to go but was stopped by Javas' firm but gentle hand on her arm. "Please! Let me go; I shouldn't be surprising him like this. It's not right."

  Javas smiled at her in that way he had that said he understood what she was feeling, but at the same time told her that he felt she was overreacting to a given situation. He said nothing. He didn't need to.

  She stopped and looked up into his face, then turned her eyes back to the ship being pulled into the receiving tube of the auxiliary landing bay. The other shuttles, those with the support personnel and crew of lower rank, had landed and departed hours ago. This transport, the last to come down from the starship now in a parking orbit above them, would be carrying the officers and bridge crew. The landing procedure was being handled remotely from the main bay, and except for a few technicians and support personnel, the bay was deserted.

  "I'm being silly, aren't I?" The ship's thrusters were still in shutdown cycle and her voice was almost lost in the receiving bay.

  "No. You're not being silly." Javas stood behind her and put his hands on her tiny shoulders, turning her around to face him. "I understand how scared you are right now, but you needn't be afraid of taking him by surprise." Javas smiled, and the tiny wrinkles at the corners of his eyes seemed to make them sparkle. "I probably shouldn't tell you this," he confessed, nodding at the shuttle, "but he was hoping you'd be here to greet him."

  Adela hugged Javas, partly for the warmth and moral support she needed right now, partly in gratitude for his admission that he'd anticipated her concern and had spoken to Eric before the transport shuttle left the starship. Was there nothing about her that he did not know, could not anticipate?

  "My entire life has been one of waiting," she said at last. "But this last year…" She let her voice trail off without finishing the thought.

  He said nothing in reply, but she knew that he understood.

  Adela had spoken to Eric frequently since her return a year earlier and the two of them had grown close, or as close as a separation of millions of kilometers would allow. The tachyon dish aboard his starship had made their communications instantaneous, and the transmitted images were frequently crystalline in their clarity, but they were a poor substitute for the warmth of his touch, the feel of his fingertips, the scent of his hair.

  Javas held her, silent and unmoving. After forty years' separation from her with only recorded holographic messages and images to give them some small semblance of closeness, he understood only too well the emotions going through her right now. She tightened her embrace, thankful for his insight, and closed her eyes as she thought, But this is even more difficult, my love, than you can know. The two of us have shared each other in so many ways… but I have not shared even a day of my life with my son. And it frightens me.

  There was a sudden loud hissing as the holding tanks on the shuttle were purged. The two of them turned in time to see the noxious gasses, contained in an air shield, form a hazy sphere around the shuttle's nose before being swirled away into the bay's recycling system. It was the last technical function that needed to be performed before the air shield was lowered and the passengers disembarked.

  "Are you sure you wouldn't like me to stay?" Javas asked, taking one of her hands in his. "Just until you've had a chance to greet him?"

  "No." She shook her head firmly, a determined smile coming to her lips. "I'll be fine. I've been looking forward to this for a long time."

  "Until dinner, then." He kissed her softly, and with a quick squeeze of her hand turned to go.

  The two Imperial escorts that had been standing unobtrusively behind them now snapped smartly to attention, and one of them formally fell into step at the Emperor's side as he headed toward the guarded corridor that would take him back to the Imperial section. The other man remained at attention behind her, but discreetly made a show of observing the activity of the bay technicians.

  She heard the sound of laughter ring out over the constant background noise of the bay and returned her attention to the shuttle. A group of nine, in obvious good spirits to be back home, trundled down a narrow ramp that had appeared just behind the nose of the craft. Eric was in the center of the group, his uniform jacket slung casually over one shoulder. Most of the others still had their jackets on, and even from this distance Adela could see the colors of rank on their collars. The fact that the group was of mixed rank pleased her, as Eric seemed to show as much friendship and respect for the lowest ranking members of his bridge crew as he did for his closest officers. She could tell, in the way they shared a sense of comradeship with one another, that the respect and admiration were mutual. They gathered in a tight knot at the end of the ramp as he bid them farewell one at a time, shaking the hand of each in turn.

  Adela caught the eye of one of the crew, a young woman whose collar indicated that she was First Officer. The woman whispered something into Eric's ear, and he turned quickly in her direction, easily picking Adela out in the nearly empty bay. He stood straighter then and slipped on his jacket, hastily fastening the gold buttons.

  Eric smiled at her and raised his hand in an eager wave, then politely excused himself from the group. The others seemed to sense the importance of this meeting and quietly dispersed, heading for the crew exit hallways on the opposite side of the bay.

  Adela felt her heart pounding in her chest as Eric approached, and clasped her hands in front of her to hide their shaking. She prayed that he wouldn't notice how nervous she was.

  It's just not the same, she reflected as he neared. After a full year of realtime communications with him, in holographic settings that gave the superficial appearance of someone being in the same room, she came to realize everything they had said to each other had been a poor preparation for this moment.

  "Hello, Mother," he said in the powerful tenor she had come to know so well these last months. He took both of her hands in his and kissed her on the cheek, and as he pulled back and looked into her face, it suddenly struck her that he was as anxious about this meeting as she was.

  "Eric."

  She studied his face, and saw herself in his features as surely as if she'd peered into a mirror: the dark hair and deep brown eyes; the wide mouth which, like her mother's, was quick to turn up into a smile; the fair complexion that ran in her family. But it was also as if a part of Javas was standing before her as well. Eric had grown tall, and while he did not reach his father's height he had Javas' strength in his broad shoulders. The structure of his face, the high cheekbones, the waviness of his thick hair as it touched the collar of his gray-blue commander's jacket, all spoke of the Emperor. But above all else, behind his eyes lay the same fire she knew to be in Javas' eyes.

  Adela opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by a loud, steady whine from the shuttle receiving tube as the lifters engaged to rotate the craft for later departure.

  Eric nodded sharply to the escort, dismissing him. "Walk with me, somewhere quiet
er," he said over the noise, indicating the guarded hallway that Javas had taken a few minutes earlier. He released her hands, then fidgeted for a moment as if he didn't know what to do with his own, and finally clasped them behind his back as they walked toward the exit.

  Neither spoke as they walked across the noisy bay. The guards snapped to attention when they passed, then resumed their position once the soundproof doors closed behind them.

  In silence at last, Adela wondered if her son could hear her heart as easily as she could.

  "You look well…"

  "I'm glad that you…" they said at the same time, then stopped and faced each other in the corridor. Both of them burst into laughter, the spontaneous pleasure of the sound reverberating in the corridor relieving the tension she felt. There was another set of double doors several dozen meters down the hallway, with another set of armed guards stationed on the other side, but here they were alone, mother and son.

  For the first time.

  "I'm sorry," he said, still chuckling nervously. "You first."

  "Eric, I…" Adela began. Even though she had rehearsed this meeting a hundred times in her imagination, she still wasn't sure where to begin.

  He seemed to sense what she was trying to say, and again took both of her hands in his. "There's no sense in trying to rush things," he said, smiling.

  As he spoke, Adela heard both the strength and tenderness to which she had grown accustomed in Javas' voice. He was so much like his father.

  "You want to say so many things. You want to put so many years into so short a time." He chuckled again, then smiled in admission. "Believe me, Mother; I'm fighting the urge to do exactly the same thing." He paused, lowering his gaze to the floor. "I have so much to tell you about my life and my goals, my dreams. And I want to hear everything about yours. I want you to tell me of Pallatin—not what I've already read in the reports and data files, but what it was like and what you felt and what you thought when you were there. I want to hear of Gris and my family. And I want you to tell me of your project and of what my role will be someday. We have so much to say to each other—"

  Adela touched a finger to his lips to silence him, and said, "And so much to be to one another."

  They embraced, and as they did Adela tried to push away the thought that she never had the opportunity to hold him as an infant, to hug him as a child. But with the regret she felt for the years and experiences missed, she also felt comfort in the knowledge of what a fine son Javas had raised, and what an excellent Emperor he would one day make.

  Above all else, Eric was right: There really was no need to try to force a lifetime's memories into this brief moment. There was a lot of work to do before Rice and the scientific team returned from the test site, bringing this phase of the project to a close. It would be several years before she had to go into cryosleep.

  And for once, perhaps for the first time in her life, she knew that there really was time to get to know someone.

  EPILOGUE

  LUNA

  Adela's office was almost bare.

  Most of the furniture, the pictures and decorations she'd personally selected, all of the little touches she'd added to reflect her own tastes and make the working environment as pleasant as possible were gone now, stored away. The terminal was silent, its screen dark. The desk had been cleared and its drawers emptied, their few remaining contents filling the small box at her feet, and she sat in a room as devoid of emotion and personality as a vacant apartment.

  She held a small figurine, hand-carved from Grisian rockwood, and fidgeted with it as she waited for the academician to arrive. Having already made all of her good-byes to friends and staff, the meeting with Bomeer would mark the end of her stay on Luna. As she turned the object over in her hands it tapped occasionally against the surface of the bare desktop, the sound echoing hollowly in the room.

  There was another sound, this one unfamiliar and intrusive, and it took a moment for Adela to realize that someone was knocking at the office door.

  "Coming," she said, even as she rose from the desk and approached the door. She thumbed the control in the door's frame and it slid open, revealing her secretary and Academician Bomeer standing outside in the reception area. Her terminal now disconnected and silent on her desk, it was her secretary who had knocked. "Thank you, Stase. Academician, please come in."

  "Thank you, Doctor," he said politely, and entered, allowing her to conduct him to one of the room's remaining chairs.

  He waited until she seated herself behind the desk before sitting. "And thank you for agreeing to see me."

  Adela nodded, studying the academician, fairly shocked at his appearance. Adela had consulted with him at length in realtime links immediately following the test, but during the lengthy voyage back to Luna he had spent the trip in virtual seclusion. He had been back on Luna for six months, but she had not met with him personally during the entire time since his return, confining whatever discussions they had had to recorded messages and electronic communications.

  He had aged more than she might have expected, and she guessed that he was years past due for a rejuvenation. This was not the same Bomeer she had met on Corinth nearly a century earlier. His hair, always an unruly mop, was longer, grayer now and combed straight back over his head. He wore the trademark academician's tunic, as he always had, but the outfit seemed less fastidiously tailored, more comfortable. And he seemed to smile more easily as he spoke than she remembered, or maybe it was the slight wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth that made it seem so.

  "I see that you've just about closed up shop," he said with the air of a man at peace with himself. "May I ask when you'll be going into cryosleep?"

  "You're right," she replied, returning his smile. "I am just about finished here. My appointment with you is my last bit of official business before I go down to Earth."

  "You'll be staying at Woodsgate?"

  "Yes. It'll be the closest thing I've had to a vacation since…" She stopped, suddenly realizing that she hadn't had anything even approximating a vacation in recent memory.

  Bomeer chuckled softly. "I think I understand the feeling."

  "Anyway, to answer your question, I'll be going into the tank in about a month."

  "I see." He seemed to hesitate, unsure of himself for the first time since he'd entered. There were several data sticks in the breast pocket of his tunic; two had brightly colored rings near the pocket clips and he pulled them out. "Please accept these as a token of my esteem."

  She took them, noting the color coding.

  "The red one is a full accounting of everything that occurred at the test site," he said. "I have checked all the figures and have compared the results with your own findings to verify your original equations. Further, I have extrapolated the necessary projections as to the proper course of the project—I realize that most of this will duplicate what you've done in the years since the test, but this is meant to confirm your theories. I've included with it my personal endorsement, and recommendations for the Imperial Council of Academicians."

  Adela was almost speechless. "Thank you, Academician," was the best she could manage.

  "The other, coded blue, contains our full investigation into the anomaly of the seventh flare on the scan recording provided by the Sarpan scientist working with Dr. Rice."

  "Oh?" Adela had reviewed some of the earlier findings sent to her by Rice while the Port of Kowloon was still in transit. While her work setting up the next phase of the project had occupied most of her time since she'd returned from Pallatin, the possibilities surrounding the mystery of the seventh flare had intrigued her and she wished there had been more time to look into it. "Have any conclusions been reached?"

  Again, Bomeer smiled. Not the arrogant, I'm-better-than-you smile she had frequently associated with him, but something pleasant, genuine.

  "It is the missing Sarpan generator ship. I've personally examined Rice's work and have confirmed his findings. There is no doubt that the sh
ip was drawn through the worm-hole, instantly crossing a distance of nearly a million kilometers, before it was destroyed along with the other ships in the flare-up."

  "That's… incredible."

  "Discovery leads to discovery," Bomeer said. "The theories that have proven to be valid for the project—your theories, Doctor—are directly responsible for yet another development, one of immense importance to the Hundred Worlds."

  Adela felt her excitement blossom, then just as quickly tempered her feelings of elation. "But the cost! More than three hundred died to learn this—"

  "Their deaths were not your fault. You will be remembered as the person who made one of the greatest contributions to science; I will be remembered for the tragedy that resulted. This is a fact that will be with me for the remainder of my life."

  Bomeer was silent for several moments, and seemed to wrestle with his guilty burden before he was able to continue.

  "However," he went on, "we've only proven that worm-hole travel occurred. It will be years before we can analyze the mechanics of how it works, even longer before we can put what we've learned to practical use. If ever." He paused, then looked deep into her face. "I have made my official recommendation to the Academy that the investigation of this phenomenon be made their top priority. I wanted you to know this before you went into cryosleep."

  "I appreciate that, Academician…" Adela started to say, but was cut off when Bomeer held up his hand.

  "Please, let me finish," he said softly under his breath, the sound reminding her more of a weary sigh. "I have fought the natural scientific growth of the Empire for so long that I can remember little else. But I fought the wrong battle. In attempting to keep the Empire from moving too quickly, to keep scientific development on what I thought was a safe and steady course, I succeeded only in battling myself." He looked at her once more, relief in his eyes at having unloaded this personal burden. The smile returned to his lips as he added, "I am very tired, and I am through fighting."