But more than that, this was still basic research science into a whole new realm of physics. The focus for now should be on that. Treating it as a tool to acquire historical background information for formulating a political policy would be altogether premature in the present circumstances-and open to a lot of questioning on principle at the best of times. Even if Showm's sudden change of heart should be proved to be solidly based, and the early Lunarians were ascertained to have been peaceable, it didn't follow that the humans existing today were necessarily redeemable. Eesyan didn't think Calazar would be right to abolish the insurance that the containment option provided, and he wouldn't want to play a part in inducing him to do so. Some thought that the question as to how much was inherent in human nature has already been answered by the record of the Jevlenese-but their situation was complicated by the invasion of the Ents, and so in Eesyan's estimation it didn't count one way or the other.
And finally, as was the habit most Thuriens learned from an early age, he had tried to examine his own motives without prejudice. A large part of his attitude, he had to concede, sprang from the desire to keep Thurien science pure, the way he had been trained to, which meant exercising control. He didn't want to let it become a part of the carnival of sensationalism and celebrity that he had seen passed off as science on Earth. There were exceptions, to be sure-Hunt and his group were a notable example; were it not so, they wouldn't be here-but the extent that Eesyan had seen, both in current practice and the historical record, of evidence being blatantly manipulated to support preconceptions, or argument from theory determining what was permissible as fact, appalled him. How scientists could rationalize the defense of ideas that were demonstrably wrong in pursuit of personal gain and undue credit was beyond him. To Thuriens, science brought its own reward by adding to the understanding of reality. Publicity, fame, and accolades could only make a scientific theory popular. They couldn't make it true.
The shaft deposited him in an atrium area built around a tree growing up from the levels below, with crystal-walled galleries and corridors leading away to various halls and administrative offices. Calazar had arranged for them to meet in the chambers of the staff preparing for the Assembly, where he would be today, checking on the arrangements. An aide greeted Eesyan in the ante-room, exchanged pleasantries, and offered him refreshments, which was the customary courtesy. Eesyan declined, and the aide conducted him through to a small meeting room at the rear. As Eesyan had anticipated, Frenua Showm was there too.
"Porthik!" Calazar extended both hands-his usual ebullient self; even more so. Eesyan was at once on guard. "I trust the day finds you well."
"As much so as I find in the day. And yourself, Bryom?"
"Never better." Calazar paused while Eesyan bowed toward Showm.
"Too rare a pleasure."
"A shared one, I assure you."
"We saw the news from Quelsang," Calazar said. "Congratulations indeed, Porthik! A splendid success. And entertaining! If only more of science could be that way. Do you think we could arrange for me to talk to a different version of myself in another universe too… in some future test like that?"
"Well… I don't see why not."
"I'd just like to see the look on his face. Vic was obviously enjoying himself. Yet I'm told that you didn't think it would work. Is that right?"
This wasn't going the way Eesyan had expected. The atmosphere was too convivial, too light-not right for the heavy clash of opinions that he had been bracing for. But Calazar's question gave him as good an opening for the kind of line he had prepared, he supposed. "The truth is, we were extremely lucky," he replied. "Far luckier than we had any right to hope for. The convergence suppressor at MP2 is the experimental prototype, barely tested. It shouldn't have been rushed out there in such haste, and a staff installed. We're violating all the principles. I accept that it's my responsibility, and I have no excuse to offer. Managing a mixed Thurien-Terran team seems to bring complications that I don't pretend to understand yet."
"Grave words," Calazar commented. Eesyan had the feeling that it hadn't come as a great surprise.
"It's a serious business. I can only state the situation as I see it."
"What would you recommend?"
"A thorough reappraisal of the physics, commencing with a recapitulation of the low-power phase at Quelsang. A moratorium on all further experiments at MP2 until we have consolidated our thoughts and plans. Replacement of the suppressor by a properly engineered and tested device when results from Quelsang permit." Eesyan drew a breath. What was to have been his whole argument had compressed itself into a few words. Might as well see it through, he decided. "It's more than a recommendation, Calazar. If I am to retain the capacity of director of this project, I must insist. Otherwise, I would have no choice but to step down from taking further responsibility."
Calazar and Showm glanced at each other. Well, that had put things clearly enough, they seemed to say. Eesyan waited for the querying and cajoling to begin. "It does seem that we got a bit carried away, doesn't it?" Calazar replied. "I mean everybody-myself included. I think you're right. Absolutely right. The house needs to be put in order from the ground up. We must never stray from our standards of excellence and professionalism."
"Don't take it as a personal lapse, Porthik," Showm said. "I've heard from the other scientists that It's been affecting all of them. A firm lead is exactly what they want."
Showm wasn't coming across as somebody in the process of consigning a pet project to oblivion. Her manner was detached and casual, as if it had never been more than a passing curiosity. Eesyan was off balance. He sensed that something more was afoot. "It goes without saying, of course, that this will put all thought of sending reconnaissance probes to Minerva on indefinite hold," he pointed out, more to test their reaction than to tell them anything they wouldn't already know.
"Which should please you," Showm said. "You were never keen on it anyway."
Eesyan looked perplexedly from her to Calazar. Calazar waved a hand dismissively. "Ah… And what could it have achieved, really? You told us yourself how improbable it would be for us to learn anything meaningful about Minerva that way. Creeping about, spying and eavesdropping from the sky… Didn't we have enough of that with the Jevlenese? And then what, even if we did? Suppose we should find answers to our questions there-Minerva before its downfall, hopeful and unsuspecting, yet with the whole ghastly story of war, destruction, catastrophe, and the aftermath all lying ahead of it. What do we do after we've collected, sorted, categorized, and catalogued our data in tidy charts and reference bases? Just pull out the probes and leave them to it like laboratory animals that have served their purpose-billions of unborn to the story of anguish, pain, torment, and slaughter that will unfold… for millennium after murderous millennium?"
Calazar looked expectantly toward the door. It opened to admit a house platter, which glided in to deliver a serving of ule with a selection of confectionaries. Timed exactly to allow him time to absorb the message, Eesyan noted.