“Weren’t studies done on this stuff before they started these programs?”
“Of course, Priscilla. But there are too many variables. You can’t predict everything. You can’t catch everything. What’s worse, the guys who did the studies knew ahead of time what kind of results management wanted. And I’d be amazed if there weren’t payoffs. Anyway, the problem now is that Kosmik has too much invested in Selika to back away.”
“Has Chappell reported this?”
“He claims he has. But who does he report to? People who have an interest in keeping the program moving.”
“So you’re not going to be part of it anymore?”
“That’s correct.”
“Are you going to blow the whistle?”
“I am. I’m going to blow the lid off.”
“Good.”
She shrugged. “Right.”
Priscilla smiled. “You’re supposed to feel a little better now.”
“I know. I probably would if I thought—”
“What?”
“It would matter. By the time we get back, Kosmik will have destroyed my reputation. They’ll accuse me of being a lunatic, Priscilla.”
“They can say what they want. But the facts are on your side.”
“No, love. Only the suppositions are on my side. I could turn out to be the woman who went down gallantly defending alien ants. And unfortunately Leon Carlson didn’t help matters. Or some of the nutcases who make us all look like lunatics.”
“Oh.”
“The problem is that we don’t have enough information to make a calculation. From what I can see, there’s a better than fair chance we’ll take out every living thing on the planet. But it will take a while. Maybe centuries. Once it starts, though, once the process gains a foothold, we’d have a very difficult time shutting it down.”
* * *
THAT NIGHT, SOMEWHERE after midnight, Priscilla thought she heard Monika moving around. She got up, left her quarters, and made her way barefooted to the passenger cabin. There was a light on the bridge.
“Monika?” She called the name softly, as if not wanting to wake anyone else.
She heard a barely audible click. Like a panel closing. And her passenger’s voice: “I’m up here.”
Priscilla went onto the bridge. Monika was seated in the pilot’s chair, but everything seemed in order. “What are you doing?”
“Playing mind games. Pretending I’m the pilot. I’d love to be able to run one of these things. I envy you.”
Priscilla sat down beside her. Tied herself in so she wouldn’t float away. “Can’t sleep, Monika?”
“I’ve been tossing around all night.” She grinned. “I’ve looked forward for a long time to going home. To the ride home. I wish, though, that I could be the pilot.”
They sat quietly for a minute. Finally, Priscilla asked about her career plans.
She shrugged. “Get a job on the ground, I guess.”
* * *
NEWSDESK
Worldwide News has learned that a member of the scientific team living in orbit at the distant world Selika has been sent home for psychiatric assistance. The person’s identity is not known, nor is the exact nature of the malady. Kosmik, which oversees the operation, had no comment this morning, but has since released a statement that at no time was any member of the staff in danger.
Kosmik is attempting to terraform Selika, which has been at the center of the terraforming controversy for more than a year. Selika is approximately 24 light-years away.
—December 15, 2195
* * *
LIBRARY ENTRY
We have collected, in two days, more than seven million signatures demanding that Congress move to stop further exploitation of living worlds. The activities of Kosmik and its collaborators is unconscionable.
—The Public Action Website, December 16, 2195
If they will not stop, then we must consider alternative action. We may have no option other than to follow the lead of Leon Carlson.
—Calltoarms.ca, December 17, 2195
Chapter 20
JAKE ARRIVED EARLY at Carmody’s. The back room had been reserved for the Astro Society. Approximately twenty people had gathered so far, and they were still drifting in. Sandra Coates recognized him immediately. She was in her thirties, with amiable features, auburn hair, and energetic brown eyes. “Captain Loomis?” she said. “So nice to meet you. We appreciate your coming. Just give us a few minutes, and we’ll be getting started.”
She introduced him around, identifying the participants as archeologists or botanists or nuclear physicists. It was clear she thought the specialty mattered to him. Nevertheless, they got quickly past the formalities, and Captain Loomis became Jake.
The place filled up, the servers arrived, and Jake was escorted to his place at the head table beside Sandra and Mike Hasson, the psychology chair at Brockton University. Sandra seemed genuinely delighted to have Jake in attendance, and she pointed out that the invitation had been Hasson’s idea. “I don’t think people really understand how the world changed,” Mike told him, “after we got into space. Well, maybe not so much got into space, but developed FTL. Some of us remember when we had our hands full getting out to Mars and Europa. But faster-than-light really changed the game.”
The meal was pretty much standard luncheon fare, potato salad and sandwiches and grilled carrots and an unidentifiable dessert that had cheese in it. When everyone had finished, Sandra ascended to the lectern and introduced Jake, “who has been to places most of us only dream about.” She held out a hand for him, the audience applauded with enthusiasm, and Jake took the mike.
“Thank you, Sandra.” He looked out over the diners. “I’m not sure what I can say that you’re not already aware of. I can tell you that I feel honored to be here, and how fortunate I’ve been to have been allowed to navigate our interstellars. It’s permitted me to visit places that we once thought were completely beyond our reach. I don’t know what I can tell you that you don’t already know, but I’ll say this: Once you’ve traveled to another world, once you’ve walked on different ground, looked out across a new ocean, you can never be the same. The reality, though, is that you provided the opportunity. You provided the technology. And I want to take this opportunity to say thanks.
“What we have, we’ve received through the efforts of the world’s scientists. Starting back with the Greeks, I guess. You guys got us out of the caves and gave us the sky. In the end, we owe everything to men and women like yourselves, who explore the reality in which we live.” He described how it felt to watch a ringed world rising out of an ocean, to ride with a comet, to watch a star hurling giant flares into the night. “And maybe especially,” he said, “to go to a place like Iapetus and look at the figure left there thousands of years ago by someone I suspect you folks would like very much to have met.”
After about twenty minutes, he thanked his audience for listening and asked if anyone had a question.
Hands went up around the room. “Captain Loomis, do you think we’ll ever find a seriously advanced civilization? By that I mean one that’s maybe a million years old?”
“Where do you think we’ll be in another hundred years?”
“What’s the most spectacular thing you’ve seen out there?”
“Captain, Marian mentioned the possibility of a million-year-old civilization. What do you think that would look like?”