Brenna eyed him with suspicion. Her mother was a linguist, the ultimate human expert on the Vahnaj language, and Brenna had picked up quite a bit of Vahnaj without much effort. She could trill her "r's" and put a rising tone on her "n's" and speak nasally, just as Quol-Bez was doing. The shield of an alien language was no good between Quol-Bez and a Saunder.
"Dangerous," Sao supplied, relieving her employer of an embarrassing problem. Chin Jui-Sao was one of Dian's star pupils. But she sounded like a malfunctioning robot, all inflection wiped out of her voice.
"Dangerous. Yes. Agreed," Quol-Bez said. The Ambassador's lips pulled back, revealing small, pointed teeth. Humans had learned that about the Vahnaj years ago, from the Vahnaj robot messenger Todd Saunder had contacted: The Vahnaj, like many human cultures, showed friendliness with a smile. The Ambassador was friendly, but his teeth were alarmingly sharp. So were his comments, despite the smoke screen.
"You and Morgan are risk takers..."
"He means, Cuz, that you shouldn't pour yourself into that shiny steel bomb you and Morg call a graviton spin resonance faster-than-Iight ship," a hateful voice cut in. Stuart, the actress hanging on his arm, had butted in without an apology. He was also, to Brenna's surprise, acting a lot more sober than he had been.
"I know what Quol-Bez meant, Stuart," Brenna said, turning her back on him. "Ambassador, most humans don't travel as much as Morgan and I do, admittedly. But they do take frequent interplanetary space trips, from Earth to Mars or the satellites. Why, even Stuart manages to drag himself out of his Caribbean hole now and then, simply to honor Mars Colony Days. That's so arrogantly noble of you, Stuart. But I refuse to applaud," Brenna finished, glancing over her shoulder and dimpling at him.
Stuart acknowledged the hit with a shrug. He wasn't here by choice. His mother had pressured him into being her stand-in at the celebration. Both Stuart and Carissa Saunder hated space travel with a passion. Brenna wondered what form of blackmail Carissa had applied to force her rebellious son to cooperate this time. Some of the past methods had been nasty, on the edge of illegal. Stuart was obviously going through hell. Mars was a frontier world. There were no decadence-palaces here, few sex companions for hire, not many EEG distorters, or the kinds of drugs Stuart depended on. If he hadn't brought his toys with him, he was going to be in exceedingly poor shape when he returned to Earth. The actress who had leeched onto him would be, too, probably!
Brenna pretended Stuart wasn't there and spoke to the Ambassador. "Of course graviton spin resonance is regarded as a theory, and a dangerous one, by a lot of people. But Breakthrough Unlimited has run numerous unmanned tests, quite successful ones. Hiber-Ship Corporation, too, is taking risks. They've perfected cryogenic stasis, working from my grandfather's original patents. But there were failures of the cryogenics system in my parents' time. All the successful revivals since then haven't entirely convinced some people, you know. As far as they're concerned, Hiber-Ship is just as much a gamble as faster-than-light experimentation."
"But with bigger political guns backing Hiber-Ship," Stuart pointed out. Now and then he came up with an astute comment, touching a nerve. This was one of those times.
"We don't need politics," Brenna said huffily. "Breakthrough Unlimited is independent. It's a Saunder Enterprises division, entirely family-owned—"
"You need permission from Terran Worlds Council and Space Fleet to run your tests in that section of space you're using," Stuart said, stepping on the heels of her words. He was making her squirm, but there was something deeper and very unpleasant in his intent. Brenna couldn't figure out what it was, and wasn't sure she wanted to.
"We have that franchise, and we've run all the preliminary tests. This talk of danger is exaggerated."
Chin Jui-Sao whispered and Quol-Bez cocked his head, bending down to hear the Chinese woman. His large black eyes glistened behind protective contact lenses. The Vahnaj home star emitted less ultraviolet than Earth's Sun. Even at Mars' orbit, Quol-Bez needed shielding to guard his vision. That veneer of human manners and boyish, accented human speech never completely hid his origins. Humans copied his clothes and hair and powdered their faces to a gray pallor in flattering imitation of the alien. But they remained human. And he was Vahnaj. Brenna shivered involuntarily. Derek called that atavism and half-buried instinct. It happened, unpredictably. Brenna used to be apologetic about the reaction. She wasn't anymore. Most humans shivered occasionally when they were in Quol-Bez's presence. What was more interesting was the fact that he shivered, too, just as instinctually troubled by their beings as they were by his. What set off that shudder? Electromagnetic forces? Some forgotten scent ability in both species? Scientists speculated but hadn't come up with definitive answers. It remained one more intriguing mystery in this on-going adventure of cross-species discovery.
Quol-Bez nodded to whatever Chin Jui-Sao had told him, then straightened to his impressive height. "You re-a-lize that your kin-parents are most disturbed about this ex-per-i-ment. I believe Todd should be helped, if this is not against custom..."
Stuart was smirking. Brenna forcibly stopped herself from hitting him. He was bad enough. Worse was Quol-Bez's presuming on his cross-species friendship with Todd Saunder and dropping none-too-subtle hints to Todd's daughter. That was partially Todd's fault, and Dian's. They knew Brenna and Morgan weren't children and were fully responsible for their own lives. Yet they tended to fuss and worry and nag. Maybe one's elders were bound to do that. It must have happened throughout history, the older generation constantly cautioning the younger: "Don't wander too far from the cave ... don't go sailing across the ocean to unknown lands ... don't go experimenting with newfangled faster-than-light spaceships..."
Brenna could almost hear her father confiding to Quol-Bez: "The Vahnaj have been star-traveling for a long time, my friend, but it's terrifyingly new for us. Progress, sure. We've got to have that. But kids always want to rush in too fast. I'd be worried no matter who was riding those FTL ships. This is my little girl, though, and my nephew. I love them both, and I'm worried sick about them. I wish they'd let someone else try it. They're so damned stubborn. If only I knew how to talk them out of it. Lord knows I've tried!"
She couldn't hear Quol-Bez's response, in her imagination. Most likely the Ambassador had reassured his friend, as elders did when the "kids" were taking foolish chances.
"Any interplanetary—or interstellar—travel can be risky," Brenna said. "It's all a matter of perspective as to how dangerous it is."
"Per-spec-tive! This is quite ... urr ... per-cep-tive of you!" A peculiar bubbling growl rattled behind Quol-Bez's pointed teeth. His attempt to make a pun in an alien tongue amused him inordinately. "And your fellow beings have a limited per-cep-tion and per-spec-tive, mmm?" The Vahnaj grew solemn. "But per-haps there is reason for worry, never-the-less?"
Old suspicions filled Brenna's thoughts. Who was worried? Just maybe it was the Vahnaj, Quol-Bez's government back there on his home worlds, forty or more light-years from Earth. Quol-Bez was a diplomat, their mouthpiece, and he was obligated to follow the party line, as it were. Friend or not, he might be assigned to look out, first, for his own species' interests. And what were they? What if one item was a monopoly on faster-than-light travel and contact with a backward species like Homo sapiens? That contact was strictly one-way, at present. One Vahnaj Ambassador sent to Earth. A trade agreement, which the humans couldn't benefit from yet. No exchange Ambassador to Vahnaj yet, either, because humanity wasn't capable of sending a representative to the stars within that human's useful lifetime. If they used cryogenic stasis—as Hiber-Ship Corporation planned to do—the present governments of Earth and Mars might be completely changed by the time the human Ambassador arrived in the Vahnaj stellar empire. In seventy-five years of the Twenty-first Century, whole nations had been swept away, man-made and natural disasters had rearranged the face of old Earth, and entire human colonies had sprung into being on Mars and in space. Even if that hypothetical human Ambassador m
ade the journey, it could be a futile one.
But...if Breakthrough Unlimited achieved FTL, the Vahnaj star systems were a mere step away from the Sun. And so was free trade with other species out there in the galaxy. The Earth-Vahnaj treaty the Terran Worlds Council had worked out specified there would, if possible, be trade between their two peoples someday. What if, for undisclosed reasons, the Vahnaj wanted to control and guide that future trade to suit themselves, keep it an exclusive deal?
Brenna had weighed these possibilities a thousand times in the past. Now her suspicions coalesced, stimulated by the upcoming FTL test. Morgan would put Prototype II through its paces. And then ...
Quol-Bez would have to contact his government for new instructions! Because humanity would no longer be controllable. It would be free to roam the stars at will, an equal of the Vahnaj and the other intelligent beings out there!
The Ambassador was studying her. So was Stuart, his aging features, a parody of his dead father's face, taut with curiosity. It occurred to Brenna that Stuart might be trying to read her mind. She almost laughed, then sobered. Perhaps Quol-Bez could do just that. No one knew. The Vahnaj Ambassador doled out information about his species stingily, as if he might be penalized for revealing too much to Homo sapiens.
Brenna tried to put a lid on her thoughts. Let the Vahnaj read her, if he could! It would give Quol-Bez a chance to prepare for the big change in diplomatic relations between their two species. Poor Ambassador Quol-Bez! Soon, no more special status. Once Breakthrough Unlimited established interstellar travel on a regular basis, there would be many Vahnaj visiting Earth. The alien species would become commonplace. More importantly, humans would become commonplace on the Vahnaj worlds, too.
"My parents worry needlessly," Brenna said. "There's nothing to-"
A musical tone interrupted her. Cue lights flashed in the holo-mode theaters in the center of each entertainment island. Incoming messages. Terran Worlds Council's coordination of calendars and clocks throughout the Solar System paid off to fit Colony Days. The computers had figured out an optimum time, when Mars would be in the best position to receive congratulatory messages from Earth's most populous and powerful areas, as well as from other colonies. The President's gala had been scheduled accordingly. The festival had been underway for days, would continue for days to come. But this was the highlight of the anniversary, the big show.
Quol-Bez bowed, his skinny fingers brushing Brenna's. "We must go to our seats. But I hope we may speak further, after the messages have been received."
What did he want to speak about? More hinting that she and Morgan ought not to fly test ships that might break the light-speed barrier? Digging to find out how close the humans were to achieving FTL spaceflight? But the Ambassador would know that, from his contacts on the Terran Worlds Council and with Space Fleet. What was Quol-Bez up to? She would never find out if she didn't agree to that further discussion.
"I look forward to continuing our conversation, yes," Brenna said politely. Chin Jui-Sao's eyes narrowed. The translator was on guard, smelling a rat. Brenna nodded to her, very bland; butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.
President Grieske's aides were rounding up the guests, courteously herding them toward the holo-mode theater. They escorted Quol-Bez and the translator to seats of honor. Brenna would be sitting in the front row, too, in a ringside chair. The Saunders were V.I.P.s as much as the Ambassador and the Martian President. Brenna was glad to see, though, that some protocol expert had seated Stuart at the far end of the row, as far away from Brenna and Morgan and Brenna's parents as he could be and still be part of the President's elite section.
As she followed the usher and took her chair, Brenna mulled over her last exchange with Quol-Bez, nursing a wild hope.
Further discussion. That could go two ways. Quol-Bez might be probing to see what she was up to and what she knew, but she could do the same thing. Just possibly, Quol-Bez might let something slip—a precious clue about the Vahnaj technique of faster-than-light space travel, for instance, some details she and Morgan could add to the design of Prototype II and the fleet of starships that would come in its wake. Five unmanned vehicles equipped with graviton spin resonance drive had made a successful jump to FTL. But perhaps there was an even better method, one that was easier, less fuel-expensive.
And there was the communications lag. When Morgan pushed the Prototype through the barrier, he would lose contact with them. The Vahnaj had FTL radio, but humans didn't —yet—thanks to Brenna's father and his protective attitude toward the alien robot messenger. The messenger was sitting in Terran Worlds Council's HQ at Goddard Colony, tamperproof and beyond the reach of Breakthrough Unlimited. FTL radio-one more thing Breakthrough Unlimited was going to have to discover on its own, if the Vahnaj had their way.
All things in good time!
They would succeed. She had to hang onto that. Push the financial worries, the risks of failure, aside. Vahnaj superiority be damned! Colony Days was a showcase. But a much bigger one was coming up. Breakthrough Unlimited would shatter the old barriers—light-speed, and the wall of space that set the Vahnaj apart, and Homo sapiens out in a backwater of the galaxy.
CHAPTER FOUR
Past Triumph and Grief
Robot servants wheeled along the tiers of seats, passing out fresh drinks and food to those who requested them. Lights dimmed slowly within the theaters on every entertainment island, blocking the late afternoon sunlight. Hidden mechanisms raised or lowered individual seats, staggering the rows so that shorter viewers could see easily over the taller spectators. The four transparent sides of the holo-mode cubes became opaque, setting the stage. Projections from other planets and colonies would be appearing within the frames.
Coming in late, Derek plopped down into the chair beside Brenna. "How were you able to tear yourself away from your old Space Fleet buddies?" Brenna asked sweetly. He rewarded her with a pained grimace. "Dian said you were rude, talking business during the gala."
"I know. She cornered me when I was on my way over here." Derek grinned like a naughty boy caught in mischief. "It wasn't exactly my idea. Hiber-Ship's sponsors expect me to cozy up to the big money." He felt a sudden chill in the air as Brenna reacted to that reminder of a future that would tear them apart from each other. Derek hurriedly covered his gaffe. "And what were you doing, might I ask? I saw you with Quol-Bez, and Stuart needling you. If you weren't digging at the Ambassador for FTL travel hints, I don't recognize the gambit..."
Brenna paid flattering attention to the empty holo-mode cube. "You don't recognize it," she said grumpily.
"And you he beautifully, my love. Unconvincingly, but beautifully."
An overture began and Brenna gratefully put a finger to her lips, shushing him. In the rotunda, and in other community nerve centers all over Mars, the people waited. Then, within the darkened holo-mode theater cube in front of Brenna, five figures seemed to appear. One moment the interior was blank. In the next instant, lifelike images stood there. They moved and breathed and looked as if they could step right out of the cube and sit among the audience. Yet each of these five was on Earth. Each was sitting in a separate studio, surrounded by five separate broadcast crews. The magic of Saunder Enterprises' ComLink—and that of a few friendly competitors like Naka-mura and Associates' TeleCom—had brought these people together and beamed their images across space to the neighboring world.
Spectators around the four sides of the holo-mode saw those images facing their way. Four sets of the same illusions. There was no shadow or overlap. Brenna couldn't see the audience on the opposite side of the theater, nor could she see those other three simultaneous projections. The holo-mode was a triumph of the art, an art developed by a grandfather Brenna had never known, "the inventive genius," as the media called him, Ward Saunder.
A professional vidcaster's voice-over started the program. "Citizens of Mars and the outer colonies and the Venusian satellites, this signal is coming to you by courtesy of SE ComLink and TeleC
om. Today we are proud to present a special communication in honor of Mars Colony Days. A distinguished delegation of Earth's leaders is on hand here to convey the good wishes of all humanity to the pioneers of the fourth planet. We will hear first from..."
Introductions flowed, all the pat phrases. The dignitaries waiting to step into the spotlight looked as if they were standing side by side. In actuality they were as far from each other as Pavonis City was from Syrtis Major. The leaders bowed individually as the announcer read off their names. These particular people had been selected by their fellow politicians to speak for Earth on this broadcast. Not everyone could speak. There simply wouldn't be enough time. Too many chiefs of Earth governments, like politicians everywhere, tended to use an opportunity like this to push their pet projects. As a result, they had chosen a few of the most popular and least controversial figures from among their ranks. Each of these leaders was retired from politics or about to retire. They would be safe, have no axes to grind, the others hoped.
Jaco Dacosta of the Brazilian and Middle Atlantic Nations. Prime Minister Hidari of the Trans-Pacific Alliance. Premier Sigrid Rasmussen of the Democracies of Northern Europe. Harith Kiamil of the African tribes making up the Affiliation of the Rift countries. And President Emeritus of Protectors of Earth's Supreme Assembly, Carissa Duryea Saunder, Todd Saunder's sister-in-law and Brenna's aunt.
Outward Bound Page 6