“The world we’re visiting will not twitch a claw at your presence,” Cn!lss assured him. “They are used to visitors who do not wish to share anything of themselves with strangers.”
Kevin nodded. He’d given serious thought to wearing something that completely covered their forms, but it seemed pointless. The human race wasn’t that different to several other galactic races, including some who looked almost identical as long as they didn’t remove their clothes. They’d be likely to be mistaken for one of those races, Cn!lss assured him, provided they didn’t undergo a medical examination. That would have revealed their humanity beyond a shadow of a doubt.
“You have contacts,” he said, softly. “People we can talk to?”
“Quite a few who do business with the Hordes,” Cn!lss said. “They will sell to anyone, provided the price is right.”
“How very human,” Kevin muttered.
He sighed. It looked very much as though they would have to hire a local to help them sell their wares, giving the local a chance to cheat them out of half of their profits. If, of course, there were any profits. He couldn’t help worrying about what would happen if their produce turned out to be completely worthless. Or, for that matter, if they were simply cheated so badly they wound up with nothing. It seemed alarmingly possible.
The thought still nagged at him as he walked into the research lab and met Carolyn. His half-hearted attempts to lure her into bed had failed, but she seemed friendly enough. Kevin had sighed and given up, more or less. Maybe she was just worried about bedding her ultimate superior on the starship.
“I think we have a rough idea of just how the alien drive works,” she told him, as she took her eyes off the screen. “It actually folds space around it, allowing the starship to cross large volumes of space almost instantly. Or at least we think that’s what it does.”
She picked up a sheet of paper and held it up in front of his nose. “Imagine you start here,” she said, pointing to one end of the paper. “You want to get to the other end, which is quite some distance away. If you have to walk normally, it will take you some time.”
Carefully, she started to fold the sheet of paper up like a concertina. “By folding the space around the starship, the FTL drive ensures that the distance the starship has to travel is much shorter than it seems. But… the more space is folded, it seems to create gravity waves that allow the ship to surf towards its destination and…”
She paused. “You’re not following this, are you?”
Kevin shook his head. He was, he knew without false modesty, pretty smart. It was why he’d gone into Intelligence in the first place. But Carolyn was far smarter than him, even though she had very little practical experience. As a theorist, she was first-rate. And yet… could she actually turn theory into technology that would make FTL a practical reality?
“We know it can be done,” Carolyn said, when he asked. “The aliens can make it happen, after all. And we also know that chinks in space-time form naturally, allowing the aliens to expand through space without FTL drives. If we’d had one of those in our star system…”
“I know,” Kevin said. “We’d have been overwhelmed long ago.”
He shivered. When he’d realised that there were over ten thousand intelligent races known to exist, he’d wondered why Earth hadn’t encountered them openly centuries ago. The answer had finally emerged from the databanks, only to give rise to more questions. Galactic society preferred to concentrate on the gravity points, even though there was a working form of FTL drive. It was odd to realise that such a towering civilisation looked so strange, when viewed on a standard chart, but it did make sense. Earth had been ignored simply because she was too far from the galactic mainstream.
They don’t have infinite power, not yet, he thought. Without it, there are limits to how far they can expand without the gravity points.
It was odd. The aliens had all the tools to create a post-scarcity society, yet they lacked the power sources necessary to make that final jump. If they managed to gain access to an infinite source of power — zero-point energy, perhaps — they would be able to transform themselves into Star Trek’s Federation or the Culture or something even more powerful. But they couldn’t, not yet. Humanity still had a chance to catch up.
Or do we? The thought was a bitter one. Humanity had fought wars that had claimed millions of lives. The Galactics had fought wars that had killed billions or trillions. They thought nothing of building starships large enough to carry an American aircraft carrier in their holds or of converting an entire star system into a warship production plant. Or they could use nanotechnology to enslave hundreds of millions of people… no matter how he looked at it, humanity’s survival would depend, very much so, on keeping their heads down and not making any enemies. But they already had one merciless set of enemies in the Horde.
Carolyn elbowed him. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“Just thinking about how far we have to go,” Kevin said. The vast majority of humanity — at least in the West — had absorbed the reports from the moon… and then gone onwards, living their lives as if Steve and his family had never existed. He rather envied their ability to stop thinking about what it all meant. “How long until you can produce a working FTL generator?”
“Probably years,” Carolyn admitted. She rubbed her forehead as she sat down. “I can see the bare bones of an FTL drive, but actually making it work would be tricky as hell. If we could open up the drive on the ships…”
Kevin shook his head, firmly. The whole system was sealed, a sensible precaution where Hordesmen were concerned. Besides, it was fairly clear from the instruction manual that any attempt to open the drive section would almost certainly disable it permanently. They couldn’t risk being stranded in interstellar space.
“I understand,” Carolyn said. She yawned, suddenly. “But it will be years before we make any real progress.”
“I know,” Kevin confessed.
“Tell you one thing,” Carolyn said. “We may be halfway towards artificial gravity and thus antigravity. It will take some work to produce enough superconductors, but once we have them we might be able to produce our own antigravity systems.”
Kevin smiled. The real problem with human spaceflight was lifting cargo out of Earth’s gravity field. Every piece of weight had to be accounted for, somehow. The giant rockets that had propelled Apollo 11 to the moon had been discarded as they expended their fuel and became deadweight. But if humanity could master antigravity technology…
“Good luck,” he said. “Make it happen and you’ll be famous right across the world.”
“That’s tiny, now,” Carolyn said. “Do you think anyone is ever famous right across the galaxy?”
“I doubt it,” Kevin said. “The galaxy is really staggeringly huge. And besides, not all of the aliens share the same tastes. Who knows — they might actually like listening to the Screaming Singer of the Week.”
“Nah,” Carolyn said, after a moment’s thought. “They couldn’t be that perverse.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Heinlein Colony, Luna
“Here he comes,” Mongo said, as the shuttle swept down towards the lunar surface. “Are you ready?”
Steve shrugged, unsure. Arranging the state visit had been tricky, to say the least. Every world leader who considered himself important — something they all seemed to have in common — had demanded to be the first to visit the moon. And it hadn’t just been them, either. The Secretary General of the UN, the Pope and hundreds of other significant political figures had also demanded to be the first to visit. In the end, Steve had ruled that the American President would be the first, if the Secret Service let him come. They’d been horrified when they realised they wouldn’t be given complete access to the colony, even though it was their duty to protect the President.