Edward M. Lerner

by A New Order of Things

  The shift of the mission’s next all-hands meeting to Valhalla City’s poshest hotel was a giveaway: Something big was in the works. When Art and Eva arrived, they discovered the initial hour was a reception. No one in the milling crowd had any better idea than she what was being celebrated. Curiosity seemed only to whet the appetite for wine and hors d’oeuvres. Eva was content to nibble as others speculated.

  Ambassador Chung, surrounded by aides, swept in near the end of the hour. He glad-handed his way through the ballroom to the dais, where he tapped on a microphone. “My colleagues”—brief toothy grin—“I hope everyone is in a party mood.”

  She could only shrug to Art’s whispered, “What’s he done now?”

  “As has been covered at past meetings, the mission holds delegated authority from the UP to negotiate a mutually beneficial refueling agreement with our K’vithian visitors. I want you, my colleagues, to be the first to hear that those negotiations have finally borne fruit.”

  Back-to-back “my colleagues” from a very non-collegial guy. Whatever Chung planned to announce had been decided by a smaller group than the full team. Her guess was: by Chung alone.

  “The Foremost and I held an unusually productive meeting just two days ago, at which he acknowledged the UP’s significant investment in antimatter production. He did me the honor of a personal meeting in his cabin aboard Victorious.

  “‘I cannot,’ the Foremost said to me, ‘repay financially. The need to acquire fuel for the return trip was never imagined, and so never planned for.’” Chung raised his hands to deflect an outburst of questions. “That is when he made an offer far more valuable than any amount of Intersols. Mashkith said, ‘InterstellarNet began with simple barter, and I propose that we respect that precedent. What I offer in trade will make worthwhile the UP’s antimatter capability … interstellar-drive capability.’”

  There was a moment of silence, and then a torrent of cheers and applause. As the ovation finally subsided, Eva raised her hand. “Ambassador, what are the arrangements for instructing us in the new physical principles?”

  Chung nodded his head thoughtfully. “An excellent point, Doctor. As it happens, the trade will work slightly differently.”

  What? “With all respect, sir, what does that mean?”

  “The K’vithian mission parameters never anticipated refueling here, nor the accident-related need for major resupply. We’ve understood all along that meant they didn’t bring mega-funds. But it also means they never envisioned transferring the interstellar-drive technology. Asking now for that authorization would entail a twelve year wait—with no guarantee of the outcome.”

  “But you just said…. “Eva stopped, too angry to speak.

  “The Foremost found what he considers a solution to this dilemma—what you or I might reasonably consider a rationalization. A loophole. If you wish to think of it this way, he is ready to bend the rules rather than be stranded here. He was expressly ordered to keep secret the interstellar-drive theory, but nothing in his instructions says he can’t swap his ‘surplus equipment’ for our ‘surplus fuel.’ The surplus equipment he offered us is a lifeboat equipped with interstellar drive.”

  “This is incomprehensible.” (The netted version of Art’s outburst said “insane.” Her netted reply hedged agreement.) “To converge upon an antimatter-exchange method, we had to share a great deal of our research with the Snakes. The K’vithians. Now they say they won’t trade on an equal basis?”

  “The K’vithians already have antimatter technology,” Chung said. “We have seen it demonstrated. They want antimatter, not theory, from us. They investigated BEC technology only to convince themselves they can take delivery of our fuel within an acceptable level of risk.”

  “Can we operate a spaceship whose drive we don’t understand without putting ourselves at risk?” Art shot back.

  Chung sniffed. “The Foremost assured me the drive mechanism is simple to replicate and operate. And, of course, lifeboat controls are designed to be meaningful to any crewman, not accessible only to specialists.”

  How many alternate drive mechanisms had been hypothesized over the years? How many theories, each with its associated experiments, had split the never adequate R&D budget? Possessing a drive that worked would let the UP direct its future efforts much more wisely. And surely she could infer much by careful observation and measurement of a working starship. The trade made a kind of sense—not just to Eva, but to the dozens contributing to the rising buzz in the ballroom.

  “What do you think, Art?” she netted.

  “Honestly? I don’t know what to think. I only know it doesn’t feel right.”

  A hundred moons, asteroids, and ships across the solar system emitted a carefully timed salvo. Part of the barrage took the form of collimated beams; the rest came in high-energy pulses. No warning—no signal of any kind—could outrace the speed-of-light onslaught to its target nearly a light-day distant. The converging energies fluctuated every few nanoseconds, randomly hopping frequencies and altering modulations.

  Two days later, the echoes of those simultaneous radar and lidar probes had returned to their sources. Outgoing and returned wave data, position—and time-stamped with utmost precision, had been forwarded to Actium and run through a battery of precise correlations. Wall screens and holo tanks now presented the analyses from every possible perspective, and in dizzying detail, but Art found the bottom-line result unambiguous. The target in the outer fringes of the Kuiper Belt had traced precisely the elaborate trajectory the Snakes had predicted.

  IR instruments, as forecast, had seen nothing—even when radar insisted the object had been decelerating while aimed directly at them. That eliminated fusion. Some had imagined an intense beam source hidden on a nearby proto-comet, but the object swooped and swerved far more adroitly than any sail-based propulsion could possibly accomplish.

  Meanwhile, gravity-wave observatories were scrambling to interpret a flood of data. Eva was like a kid in a candy shop. Quantum gravity was her specialty and passion; her repeated best efforts had yet to get Art deeper than five minutes into a description of her research.

  “Damn,” he said. It was an expression of wonderment, not anger. “It’s for real. I can’t imagine how that many varied observations could be faked.” The test had been designed in consultation with UP military and UPIA experts, whose most advanced experimental jammers and spoofers could not fool even a fraction of the electromagnetic probes just deployed. “There is a real object out there with a real interstellar-drive capability.” Excited voices across the crowded bridge agreed.

  Ambassador Chung managed to simultaneously beam and scowl. The scowl, Art assumed, was for his sole benefit. “The K’vithians told us they have antimatter capability—and they proved it. They said they have a lifeboat equipped with a non-reaction, interstellar drive to offer us—and they proved that. Dr. Walsh, does your cynicism require any additional hugely expensive experiments insulting to our guests?”

  Why wasn’t he convinced even now? As though reading Art’s mind—but more likely the doubts plainly written on his face—Keizo privately netted his mantra, “Aliens are alien.” Meaning: It’s unreasonable to expect always to understand the Snakes, or their approach to problems, or what data about themselves and their most prized technology they volunteer. Meaning: Eva’s frustration that questions about the interstellar drive were invariably deflected proved nothing.

  All eyes were on Art, awaiting his response.

  Objectively, how could the answer be in question? The drive was said to be unsafe to operate deep within gravity wells. He could hardly expect the Foremost to sacrifice a vehicle to prove that. He faced Chung squarely. “No, sir.”

  But in Art’s heart there followed a caveat: none at this time.

  “Knight capture by pawn.” Mashkith slapped the chess clock.

  “Bishop capture by bishop,” replied Lothwer, hitting his side of the clock. “Check.”

  “Bishop capture by queen.”
Tap. Mashkith’s mind was not on the game, but it seemed an appropriate way to await final word from the humans. If he could have spared his full attention, they would have been playing b’tok.

  The familiar panoramic holo of Jupiter and Callisto dominated his cabin, but Mashkith was cognizant of a major change. The swarm of freighters had thinned to a few. Resupply was largely complete. “Environmental system status?”

  “Near nominal again.” Lothwer advanced a pawn and tapped the clock again. “Sulfur dioxide levels in the farm…”

  “Incoming announcement from Earth, Foremost. On all major news sources. On time delay.”

  “Acknowledgement.” His answer, like the watch officer’s alert, was netted. Another subvocalization opened an inset box in the holo. “From the start.”

  Into the inset popped a cloth-covered lectern bearing the great seal of the United Planets. Ambassador Chung emerged from a backdrop of heavy curtains, clutching a sheaf of notes. Stepping up to the podium, he cleared his throat. “My fellow citizens, I am here to make a statement.

  “As you know, I lead the contact team which works closely with our interstellar guests. It has been my privilege to report regularly on our progress, just as I am certain the Foremost, leader of the K’vithian visitors, has enjoyed….”

  “Knight to queen six.” Tap.

  Mashkith wavered between approval and irritation with Lothwer’s casual bravado. True, an announcement was expected. Its content had been negotiated in detail with Ambassador Chung before his final trip to consult with the UP secretary-general. But the broadcast represented the culmination of a plan so long in execution.

  “…And so I am pleased to report the successful conclusion of an extraordinarily important dialogue, as a result of which United Planets researchers will receive a working copy of the K’vithian interstellar drive. In exchange, we will begin immediately the complete refueling of Victorious from UP stocks of antimatter.”

  And thus, after so long a time, everything had come together. Mashkith found his ears were wriggling. Lothwer’s were too.

  It was hard not to gloat when the humans were always so cooperatively several moves behind.

  CHAPTER 24

  Art stirred his coffee with reflexes finally adjusted to Callisto. Across the café table, Eva tore morsels from her bagel. Some day he needed to explain to her the accepted meaning of finger food. Or—flash of insight—maybe not. His apparent inability to keep some observations to himself was part of why Maya said living with him involved “more Art than science.”

  The eatery near their offices was nothing to vidmail home about, but breakfast together was now part of their routine. He knew he looked forward to it.

  On the corner 3-V, talking heads discussed the pending constitutional referendum on Titan to legalize polygamy. He ignored them. “What’s on your schedule today?”

  “Coordinating with folks at Hawking Observatory. Supervising some postdocs at Callisto Tech doing ZPE experiments. Indira Singh finally arrives from Triton this afternoon to talk quantum-string theory. Fun stuff.”

  Which was to say, doing her best to reconcile the contradictory and inconclusive data about the interstellar drive: oblique hints and condescending comments from the Snakes, indirect observations, subtle inferences. They had precious little hard fact, beyond the faint gravity ripples detected during the demo. Getting ready, in short, to take custody of the to-be-transferred lifeboat. She rattled on about specifics, quickly going way over his head.

  Mashkith had vetoed Eva’s request through Ambassador Chung for one of the lifeboats presently aboard Victorious. “The answer would be ‘no’ if only because we already lack one lifeboat, but safety is not my main reason. I wish to avoid skepticism whether this lifeboat truly has interstellar capability. The vessel on its way has already demonstrated its interstellar drive. Your cynics have seen it. That is the boat the UP will receive.” The Foremost’s touchy reaction had only gotten Art further into Chung’s disfavor. Abstractly, Art would have thought that impossible.

  “I said, ‘And you?’” Eva was frowning at him.

  “Sorry. Synapse misfire.”

  “Fine. Don’t tell me.”

  Sigh. “Nothing much.” Antimatter transfers did not involve him. The resupply effort was largely complete. “Maybe I’ll look into the diminished sulfur level on Victorious.”

  “The K’vithians proved they had antimatter before we seriously discussed refueling. They demoed the interstellar drive we’re getting in exchange. Art, you did what you set out to do. Why not relax for a bit? Scale back to, I don’t know, six days a week?”

  “Do you trust Chung to…?”

  She gently slapped his hand. “You’re a prime example why that referendum is happening on Titan. Too many men with trust issues.”

  Before he could decide whether to comment on that, she had excused herself and headed off to work.

  K’vithians and crew-kindred faced each other in two shallow arcs. A long scroll lay open on the deck between them. Two groups of peers consulting, K’choi Gwu ka thought. We will be equally dead if we overlook anything.

  A hologram floated above a corner of the printout. As air currents gently vibrated a slightly curled edge, the ephemeral orb morphed from planet to planet. Earth, Jupiter, and Saturn she knew immediately; the names of the other worlds eluded her. The same United Planets logo glimmered from the two shiny cylinders that stood behind the K’vithians.

  They contained human-supplied antimatter.

  Mashkith’s eyes were heavy upon her, impatient. Gwu’s experts continued speaking inconclusively among themselves, their words muffled by breathing masks. “Biocomputers are unfamiliar to us, Foremost.” You kept us ignorant lest we meddle with the new networks grafted throughout the ship. “We must be certain the control approach is entirely compatible with the shipboard systems.”

  “Nature of concern?”

  One of the crew-kindred experts spoke up. “The merest instant of instability during the transfer would be catastrophic.”

  “Concern for possible transient control states within the interface?” Keffah asked. “Exhaustive review by my staff. Second review by me. No problems.”

  Exhaustive? Hardly. The crew-kindred were unfamiliar with biocomps, and the K’vithians had, until recently, disdained to study photonics. Advanced species used biocomp.

  But photonics controlled the main antimatter-containment chamber which filled half the room. Photonics controlled the interstellar drive powered by matter/antimatter annihilation. Reassuring myself with thoughts of the Unity’s technical superiority. Sadly, Gwu once more acknowledged her own pride. I’m not so different from them. “The Foremost requested our opinion. I thought it best to evaluate the design independently.”

  The answering growl ended abruptly at a glance from Mashkith, but not before that rumble deep in Keffah’s throat rebutted all Gwu’s fanciful notions of a meeting between equals.

  “Any specific technical reason for delay?” Mashkith asked. “Any explicit unambiguous risk? Your experts’ response within three watches, ka.”

  Which meant antimatter fueling was planned to commence soon after. Reluctantly, Gwu conceded the shrewdness of a deadline. Humans had designed the transfer interface, and they knew photonics, biocomps, and antimatter containment. It was prudent to have given the crew-kindred an opportunity to spot anything humans and K’vithians might have overlooked. It was astute to disbelieve any purported problems not accompanied by specifics.

  Nothing Gwu had so far heard from her experts rose above musing aloud. Refueling was going to happen. Either that, or a very big explosion that would end all their worries. “I understand, Foremost. You will have our response by then.” She rolled up the scroll. “For reference as we complete our review.”

  Returning under escort to their quarters, Gwu decided: We must send our message immediately. Before three watches have passed. Before the remotest chance of an interface mismatch and a cataclysmic explosion, we must send
word to the Unity. They must be told the mission was hijacked; it did not fail.

  The crew-kindred’s only advantage was the secret reactivation of T’bck Ra. They could spring that surprise only once. Should they use their one chance to radio the Double Suns or the Unity’s nearby agent?

  Hope dies hard, she realized. Gwu could not imagine how help could arise, but at least the theoretical possibility existed that the Unity’s agent on Earth could accomplish something before Harmony vanished once more into interstellar space. Their attempt to communicate would be directed at the main InterstellarNet receiver on Earth—and through it, to T’bck Fwa.

  What course of action the AI could possibly undertake beyond relaying their message was beyond her imagining.

  Martian science classes boasted that Olympus Mons was the largest volcano in the solar system. It towered to three times the height of Mount Everest. Its footprint was the size of the Hawaiian Islands.

  Long dormant, it was far from the most impressive volcano.

  Art’s eyes were glued to the apocalyptic sight before him. Vast pools of hot, black lava mottled Io’s ocher surface. Geysers and volcanoes spewed sulfurous lava far into space. Rings of fresh red and yellow sulfur encircled calderas a hundred kilometers across. The scene was all the more fearsome for its violent transience: Cavernous faults and tall mountains formed and vanished here in a geological eye blink, as the surface flexed endlessly in the tidal tug of war between mighty Jupiter to one side, and nearby Europa and Ganymede to the other.

  As the hellish world swelled in the main screen, Art just barely found his tongue. “Wow.”

  “Glad you came, Art?” Rachel Shapiro, the scoopship’s pilot, wore a condescending smile that said: tourist.

  “Absolutely!” And not just because I was getting cabin fever on Callisto. “What a rush!”

  “Me, too.” Despite the endorsement, Helmut seemed quite blasé, and more relaxed than Art had seen him in their brief acquaintance. That was the thing about new friends—you did not entirely get them at first. The spacer had doubtlessly seen more than Art, maybe even Io before. In fact, Helmut was so bored-seeming Art didn’t understand why he had come along.