Obviously, Raphael wanted to keep them off balance, avoid substantive debate and open discussion while being careful to maintain the appearance of those things. “We can all be proud of what we did here.” Sondra noticed that Raphael was already talking about the station in the past tense. It was over already. “Some had the dream of conquering gravity, bending it to our will as electricity, fission, fusion have been put to use. But that was not to be.”
It wasn’t you who tried to sell that dream, no not at all. Sondra was growing weary of the charade. No doubt whipsawing people was a reflex for him, automatic, unconscious by now. Still, at some level or another, Raphael had to know what he was doing. He must know he wasn’t fighting fair with that kind of buck-passing crack.
Sondra glanced around the room. Men and women bright enough to run a particle accelerator the size of a small planet likewise had to be at least somewhat aware that they were being manipulated, even as they let it happen. Surely Raphael had figured out that they knew, and surely most members of the staff had figured out that Raphael knew they knew, and so on and on in a weary spiral.
Possession of that knowledge did not seem to bother Raphael. Why should it? The staff members always folded, always allowed Raphael to manipulate them. Dr. Simon Raphael had been running this station by such means from day one, and it had always worked. No doubt it had worked equally well at every other operation he had ever managed. Raphael had had decades of practice bullying and manipulating.
But the questions remained: why did these people put up with it? Perhaps some calculated that cooperation was easier than battling slippery insinuations. Others had learned the hard way that going along was simpler than arguing with an unreasonable request made in a wounded tone, or disputing an impossible order dressed up to sound like the voice of long-suffering reason.
Probably most of them simply responded with the guilt-stricken impulse of a small boy accused of unspecified sins by his parents. There is something in human nature that wants authority to be just. It is easier to discover imagined faults in yourself rather than accept real flaws in the people that you count on, the people you have to trust. How many children find ways to blame themselves for their parents’ divorce? But very few parents deliberately try to induce that guilt as a means of control—the way Raphael did.
“We must accept the fact that we have come to a dead end. Therefore,” Raphael went on, “the time has come to retreat as gracefully as possible, and move on to other things.”
But a new voice spoke up. “Ah, sir, perhaps not. I think I might have found an approach.” Sondra looked around in surprise, and spotted the speaker at the far end of the table. That new kid, Larry Chao.
Every head in the room swiveled around to find the person who had dared to speak out. Dr. Raphael’s eyes bulged out of his head, and his face went pale with anger.
“Well, that is, I haven’t solved everything, but I ran an experiment last night—and well, maybe…” The poor kid felt the eyes on him. He was visibly running out of steam, deathly embarrassed. “I just thought that maybe my results might be good enough to impress the board, let us keep going…” Larry’s voice faded away altogether, and he stared helplessly at Raphael.
“Chao, isn’t it?” Raphael asked in the angry tones of a schoolmaster interrupted by a naughty little boy. “I am not aware of any experiment scheduled for last night.”
“It… it wasn’t scheduled, sir,” Larry said. “It was just an idea that came to me in the middle of the night. I tried it and it worked.”
“Are you aware, Chao, of the regulations regarding unauthorized use of the station’s equipment? No? I thought not. You will provide me with a complete list of equipment and materials used, and the precise length of time you operated that equipment. The costs of your experiment will be calculated at the standard basis, and the total amount will be deducted from your next pay deposit. If the amount is higher than your pay—and I won’t be surprised if it is—appropriate arrangements will be made to garnishee your pay for as long as is required.”
Larry’s face flushed and he gestured helplessly. “But sir, the results! It’s got to be enough to convince them.”
“I seriously doubt that a funding board that has decided to shut this facility down as an economy move will be persuaded to change its mind because a junior researcher saw fit to waste even more money. That will be quite enough from you, Mr. Chao.”
Catch that real subtle point, Larry? Sondra thought. You’re still a mere mister. Don’t you know no one is capable of actual thought unless they have at least one doctorate?
Raphael looked around the table with a ferocious expression on his face. “Unless someone else has an equally vital contribution to make, I think we must now proceed to the logistics of the shutdown. I intend to launch the evacuation ship no later than one month from today. I propose that all department heads report back in three days, having in the meantime set the work priorities. We are instructed by the board to leave the station, the Ring, and all our facilities in standby mode. We are to ‘mothball’ the station, as the lasergram puts it, in the hopes that it might be reoccupied and reactivated at some future date. As there is a great deal to do, and very little time, I propose that we close this meeting now and set about planning the task ahead.” Raphael hesitated a moment, as if there were the slightest chance of anyone disagreeing. “Very well, then. Department heads will meet here at 0900 hours, three days from now, with preliminary shutdown schedules prepared.”
The meeting broke up, but Sondra Berghoff kept her seat, and watched the people go, all of them moving carefully in the low gravity.
None of them had spoken up.
With the whole project about to crash down about their ears, none of them had so much as lodged a protest. What, exactly, did they have to lose, if the station was lost anyway? And what sort of madness was it to ignore the Chao kid? Sure, it was a long shot, but what harm could possibly come from listening?
Probably Chao’s improvements wouldn’t be enough. At a guess, Chao had managed to force some minor increase in gee-force generation, to two or three gravities, or held the field together for something more than the current record of ten seconds. Well, if he had, that would be a real accomplishment and bully for him. It wouldn’t be enough to change any minds, but why couldn’t anyone speak up, and at least demand that he be heard?
Sondra drummed her fingers on the table. Just to pull an example out of the air, why hadn’t she spoken up herself?
CHAPTER TWO
Bills to Pay
Gone. The bright beacon in the dark was gone After only the briefest moment. The Observer strained itself to find the signal again, but it was not there.
How could it be gone? A pang of sorrow, of loneliness, washed over it. Abandoned. Abandoned again after such a long time. It struggled to calm itself, and resume its aeons-long sleep.
But there was a small part of itself that would not allow complete rest. A small part of it watched still.
And hoped.
Sondra stood in front of her mirror. There she was, for what it was worth. Pudgy figure, chubby face, red hair a mass of tight curls. She was dressed in her usual style: a rumpled shirt of indeterminate color, shapeless sweatpants, and Velcro-bottom slippers. But she wasn’t at the mirror to check her appearance. The point here was to try an age-old test. Most people meant it figuratively, but her family had made it literal. She tried to look herself in the eye.