“That could all have been prearranged,” McFergusen said.
“But it wasn’t! I didn’t—”
McFergusen sighed again, even more heavily. “This committee will make no judgment on how your samples arrived on Mercury, Dr. Molina. Nor will we accuse you or anyone else of wrongdoing. But we must conclude that the samples you claimed as evidence of biological activity on Mercury originated on Mars.”
Molina wanted to cry. I’m ruined, he thought. My career as a scientist is finished. Ended. Absolutely ruined.
SCAPEGOAT
Bishop Danvers felt almost gleeful as he composed a message of triumph for New Morality headquarters in Atlanta.
The scientists themselves had disproved Molina’s claim of finding life on Mercury! That was a victory for Believers everywhere. The entire thing was a sham, a hoax. It just shows how far these godless secularists will go in their efforts to destroy people’s faith, Danvers said to himself.
He was saddened to see Molina’s credibility shattered. Victor was a friend, an acquaintance of long standing. He could be boorish and overbearing at times, but now he was a broken man. He brought it on himself, though, Danvers thought. The sin of pride. Now he’s going to pay the price for it.
Yet Danvers felt sorry for the man. They had known each other for almost a decade and a half, and although they were far removed from one another for most of that time, still he felt a bond with Victor Molina. Danvers had even performed the ceremony when Victor married Lara Tierney. It’s wrong for me to rejoice in his mistake, he thought.
Deeper still, Danvers knew that the real bond between them had been forged in the destruction of another man, Mance Bracknell. Danvers and Victor had both played their part in the aftermath of that terrible tragedy in Ecuador. They had both helped to send Bracknell into exile. Well, Danvers said to himself, it could have been worse. After all, we saved the man from being torn apart by an angry mob.
With a heavy sigh, Danvers pushed those memories out of the forefront of his mind. Concentrate on the task at hand, he told himself. Send your report to Atlanta. The archbishop and his staff will be delighted to hear the good news. They can trumpet this tale as proof of how scientists try to undermine our faith in God. I’ll probably be promoted higher up the hierarchy.
He finished dictating his report, then read it carefully as it scrolled on the wall screen in his quarters aboard the Himawari, adding a line here, changing an emphasis there, polishing his prose until it was fit to be seen by the archbishop. Yamagata must be pleased, he realized as he edited his words. He can resume his construction work, or whatever it is the engineers are supposed to be doing down on the planet’s surface.
Nanomachines, he remembered. They want to begin using nanomachines on Mercury. What can I do to prevent that? If I could stop them, this mission to Mercury would become a double triumph for me.
When he was finally satisfied with his report, Danvers transmitted it to Earth. As an afterthought he sent courtesy copies to the two young ministers that Atlanta had sent to assist him. They’ll be heading back to Earth now, he thought. He got to his feet and rubbed his tired eyes. In all probability I’ll be heading back to Earth myself soon. He smiled at the prospects of a promotion and a better assignment as a reward for his work here. His smile turned wry. I hardly had to lift a finger, he thought. The scientists did all the work for me.
Then his thoughts returned to Molina. Poor Victor. He must be beside himself with grief. And anger, too, I suppose. Knowing Victor, the anger must be there. Perhaps suppressed right now, he’s feeling so low. But sooner or later the anger will come out.
Bishop Danvers knew what he had to do. Squaring his shoulders, he left his quarters and marched down the ship’s passageway toward the compartment that housed Victor Molina and his wife.
Molina was close to tears, Lara realized. He had burst into their compartment like a drunken man, staggering, wild-eyed. He frightened her, those first few moments.
Then he blubbered, “They think I falsified it! They think I’m a cheat, a liar!” And he nearly collapsed into her arms.
More than an hour had passed. Lara still held her husband in her arms as they sat on the couch. He was still shuddering, his face buried in her breast, his arms wrapped around her, mumbling incoherently. Lara patted his disheveled hair soothingly. Haltingly, little by little, he had told her what had transpired at the meeting with McFergusen and the other scientists. She had murmured consoling words, but she knew that nothing she could say would help her husband. He had been accused of cheating, and even if he eventually proved he hadn’t, the stigma would remain with him all his life.
“I’m ruined,” he whimpered. “Destroyed.”
“No, it’s not that bad,” she cooed.
“Yes it is.”
“It will pass,” she said, trying to ease his pain.
Abruptly, he pushed away from her. “You don’t understand! You just don’t understand!” His eyes were red, his hair wild and matted with perspiration. “I’m done! Finished! They’ve destroyed me. It would’ve been kinder if they’d blown my brains out.”
Lara sat up straighter. “You are not finished, Victor,” she said firmly. “Not if you fight back.”
His expression went from despair to disgust. “Fight back,” he growled. “You can’t fight them.”
“You can if you have the courage to do it,” she snapped, feeling angry with her husband’s self-pity, angry at the vicious fools who did this to him, angry at whoever caused this disaster. “You don’t have to let them walk all over you. You can stand up and fight.”
“You don’t know—”
“Someone sent you a message, didn’t they?”
“Yes, but—”
“You have a record of that message?”
“In my files, yes.”
Lara said, “Whoever sent that message to you probably put those Martian rocks at the site you found.”
Molina blinked several times. “Yes, but McFergusen and the others think that I set that up using a stooge.”
“Prove that they’re wrong.”
“How in hell—”
“Find the man who set you up,” Lara said. “He had to come to Mercury to plant those rocks at the site. He’s probably still here.”
“Do you think …” Molina fell silent. Lara studied his face. He wasn’t bleating any more. She could see the change in his eyes.
“I don’t think anybody’s left Mercury since I arrived here. Certainly none of the team down at the base on the surface. None of Yamagata’s people, I’m pretty sure.”
“Then whoever set you up is probably still here.”
“But how can we find him?”
Before Lara could think of an answer, they heard a soft rap at their door.
“I’ll get it,” she said, jumping to her feet. “You go wash up and comb your hair.”
She slid the door open. Bishop Danvers’s big, blocky body nearly filled the doorway.
“Hello, Lara,” he said softly. “I’ve come to do what I can to solace Victor and help him in his hour of need.”
Lara almost smiled. “Come right in, Elliott. We’re going to need all the help we can get.”
In his bare little office at Goethe base, Dante Alexios heard the news directly from Yamagata.
“It was all a hoax!” Yamagata was grinning from ear to ear. “The rocks were planted here. They actually came from Mars.”
“Molina salted the site?” Alexios asked, trying to look astonished.
“Either he or a confederate.”
“That’s … shocking.”
“Perhaps so, but it means that the blasted scientists have withdrawn their interdict on our operations.”