12: Briefing
At Clavius Base, after a couple of hours sleep, Siobhan still felt mildly jet-lagged, or Moon-lagged, she thought, by a time difference from London equivalent to an Atlantic crossing.
To freshen up, she showered. She was entranced by the shimmering globules that came crowding out of her shower nozzle. She tried to be a good visitor to the Moon; she kept her shower curtain Velcroed up until the suction system had recovered every last precious molecule of the ancient water.
Liaising en route from the Komarov, she had asked Bud to set up a full briefing. As far as she could tell the Moons top solar scientists would all be in attendance, from helio-seismologists to students of electromagnetic emissions from radio wavelengths to X-raysand, of course, the neutrino-astronomy prodigy who had tried to blow the whistle before June 9. Until they got to Clavius, none of the scientists was to be told what her mission was. Security remained tight.
There were few conference rooms on the Moon: evidently this wasnt Carlton Terrace. Bud had tried to persuade her to use Claviuss amphitheater for the session, but the very public space of the amphitheater wouldnt do.
So he deployed some of his scarce resources to knock through the walls of a few living quarters. The result was a cramped but serviceable room, dominated by a conference table made of several smaller bits of furniture jammed together. Bud installed Faraday cages and jamming devices to exclude electronic eavesdropping, and active noise generators to put a stop to the more conventional sort of listening. Even Thales would not be free to come and go: while the door was locked, only a cut-down clone of the Moons electronic ghost would be allowed to operate within the room, and later a suite of smart systems, independent of Thales himself, would scrutinize and censor the flow of information out of the room.
Siobhan checked it over as best she could. Im no expert, she said to Bud, but this looks sufficient to me.
He said fervently, I hope so. I dont mind telling you I took a few punches over this meetingand not just about the security. He scratched his shaven scalp. Me, Im just a military man. Im used to an unpredictable life. These scientists hate to be dragged away from their work.
I can sympathize, she said. Im a scientist too, remember. And right now all my own projects are probably running into the ground.
Bud knew about her work. But for now the life and death of the universe can wait.
Quite. She smiled at him.
Ten oclock arrived. With Bud at her side she braced herself and walked into the crowded room. Bud quietly closed the door behind her, and she heard a security lock click into place.
She stood at the head of the cobbled-together conference table. The twenty participants were already here with their softscreens spread out over the tabletop before them: twenty faces gazing back at her, with expressions varying from apathy to nervousness to blank hostility. The glow of the strip lights overhead was washed-out and harsh, and despite the noisy laboring of the air circulation systems this sealed box already smelled strongly of adrenaline and sweat. The people seemed alien too, their clothes, much recycled and patched, dark with use, and their gestures small and contained, conditioned by years in small spaces and a lethal environment. They made Siobhan feel gaudy, wispy, an outsider from sunny Earth out of place here in the cramped, dusty chambers of the Moon.
This is going to be a nightmare, she thought.
Most of the participants were geologists of one stripe or another, she knew; many of them had the big, practical, dust-stained hands of those used to working with rocks. Glancing around, she recognized two faces from the briefing material she had requested from Bud: Mikhail Martynov, the rather shy-looking Russian who was the lead scientist on solar weather here on the Moonand Eugene Mangles, neutrino whiz kid.
Eugene had a distracted air, and he seemed to have trouble making eye contact. But he was startlingly good looking, better even than the images had suggested, with the perfect skin and open, symmetrical face of a synth-star singer. Siobhan felt her crusty heart skip a beat. And from the glances that Mikhail occasionally cast his way, it seemed that it wasnt just women who were drawn to Eugenes looks.
Bud, acting as chair, stood beside her. Before we start, let me just say one thing, he began. Astronauts have a proud history in solar studies. It goes back to the Skylab guys who, in Earth orbit in 1973, operated an imaging spectrograph built for them by Harvard. Today were continuing that tradition. But were not just talking about science. Today were being asked for our help. As the commander of Clavius Base I consider it an honor to have Professor McGorran herean honor that we on the Moon are seen as fit to be the focus of the response to this problem. Professor. He nodded to Siobhan and sat down.
After that pep talk, not entirely appropriate, Siobhan glanced around the table. She caught just one friendly eye, a sympathetic half smile from Mikhail Martynov. Follow that.
Good morning. I expect to do more listening than talking today, but Id like to make some introductory remarks. My name is
We know who you are. The speaker was evidently one of the geologists, a stocky, big-armed woman with a square face. Her glare was about the most hostile in the room.
Then you have me at a disadvantage, Doctor
Professor. Professor Rose Delea. She had a broad Australian accent. Siobhan had been briefed; Rose was an expert on the emplacement by sunlight of helium-3 in the lunar regolith. This helium isotope, a fuel for fusion reactors, was the Moons best economic prospect, and so Rose was a weighty figure here. All I want to know is when youre going to leave so I can get back to some real work. And I want to know the reason for all this secrecy. Since June 9 outgoing comms has been restricted, some areas of Thaless databases and other information stores have been proscribed
I know.
This is the Moon, Professor McGorran. If you hadnt noticed, were all a long way from home and our families. Links to Earth are essential for our psychological well-being, not to mention our physical safety. And if you dont want morale to fall farther
Siobhan held up her hand, a gesture of quiet command. To her relief, Rose fell silent. I quite agree. So she did. Secrecy didnt come instinctively to her any more than to these Moon-folk, Siobhan suspected; openness was an essential component of the endless conversation that underpinned good science. She said, The security blackout is difficult for all concerned, and would be unacceptablein normal times. But these are not normal times. Please bear with me.
Im standing before you today as an emissary of both the British Prime Minister and the Prime Minister of the Eurasian Union. When I get home Ill also be expected to brief other world leaders, including President Alvarez of the United States. And what they want to know is what to expect of the sun.
She was met by mostly baffled stares. Her briefings by various world-weary politicians aides had warned her to expect a certain insularity up here on the Moon, where the Earth could seem a long way away, and not very important. So she had prepared a show-and-tell. Thales, please
She gave them a five minute summary, in images, graphics, and words, of the devastating impact of June 9 on the Earth. This was watched in somber silence.
At the end she said, And thats the reason Im here, Professor Delea. I need some answerswe all do. Whats wrong with the sun? Is June 9 going to hit us again? Can we expect something lessor worse? On the Moonin this room, in factyou have some of humankinds top solar scientists. And the one person who made an accurate prediction of June 9 itself.
Eugene didnt react; his gaze unfocused, it was as if he was barely aware of the others around him.