Sukyung cut her short. “Who told you anything about the lab? I didn’t say anything.”
She shrugged. “I took it for granted. You alluded to a table and some jars. It was logical to conclude you were referring to Professor Olmedo’s Lab.”
Uriel Qeta smiled faintly and sat in a chair near to her.
“I concede that, Doctor Tietz. It will not be this false step that entraps you, but Bode’s Law.”
From her look it was apparent that now the biologist did not really understand. “Bode’s Law? What is it?”
The planetologist waved his hand. “Oh, yes, I forgot you are not an astronomer.” He went on talking in his best professional tone:
“Bode’s Law is a sequence of numbers indicating the distance of the planets of this solar system from the Sun. You get it writing the numbers starting from 0 and 3, and doubling them so that you obtain 0–3—6—12–24—48—96 and so on; then you add 4 to every such number. The sequence becomes 4–7—10–28—52, and so on. If you assume as 10 the distance from Earth to the Sun, you get 4 as the distance of Mercury — four tenths of the Sun-Earth distance, that is—7 for Venus, 16 for Mars, 48 for the Asteroid Belt, and so on, all these numbers approximating the real distances rather accurately, at least up to a certain point.”
“And these numbers would indicate my name?” There was incredulity in her voice, true incredulity, not feigned.
Uriel Qeta smiled and shook his head. “Oh, no, the numbers have nothing to do with your name. They just pointed out to us that we should consider the Bode Law and it is just this law that revealed your identity.”
Sukyung was observing the biologist closely and was amused when he saw how confused she was. A confused suspect, who doesn’t know what the prosecutor is aiming at, is always at disadvantage.
Doctor Tietz looked at Uriel Qeta blankly. “It was a fine lecture, Doctor Qeta, but what have I to do with Bode? My name is Tietz, Danielle Tietz.”
Qeta nodded. “Quite so, and this is just the reason why the professor could nail you.” He paused while a triumphant look appeared in his eyes.
“You see, my dear Doctor Tietz, for one of those strange quirks of destiny this Law has become known as the Bode Law, but it was actually found before him by an astronomer named Titius. In fact many people call it the Titius-Bode Law, as it should rightly be.”
“Oh,” the biologist smiled wryly, than shrugged. “Now I see, my name is Tietz, and it sounds suspiciously like Titius. So you want to accuse me just on the ground of a paltry assonance! I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous!”
“Oh, no, the assonance has nothing to do with you.” Uriel Qeta shook his head. “Titius is the Latinized name of the man who found this Law, but the true name of this Prussian astronomer and mathematician, who was born in 1729, was Johan Daniel Tietz. Daniel Tietz, just like you…Danielle Tietz.”
The woman seemed to have suddenly lost her energy.
“A trick of fate, you could say, my dear…even your name is exactly matched. And now, don’t you think it is high time you confessed everything?”
FINAL CONTACT, by Sydney J. Bounds
The wild dog came slipping and sliding across the ice towards him. It showed as no more than a gray shadow in the starlight. A growl from deep in its throat alerted him as its jaws opened like a trap.
Crane stopped, shook the glove from his right hand and raised his rifle. The dog was gaunt from starvation, but it would provide some meat. Saliva moistened his mouth in anticipation.
The dog’s hind paws found a grip on a patch of frozen soil, and it sprang. Crane’s rifle was only a.22 sports model so he forced himself to wait till it was on top of the barrel before pulling the trigger.
It body, hard as rock, hit him and knocked him backwards. His feet went from under him and the dog went over his head. Lying flat on his back on the ice, Crane swiveled around, holding his rifle ready for a second shot. It was unnecessary.
He pulled his gloves back on and scrambled to his feet. Unsheathing his knife, he cut away fur and sliced flesh from the bone. He thrust it into his mouth and gobbled greedily. It was tough and stringy, but the blood was warming and he felt new strength surge through his tired and half-frozen body. He ate till he began to feel sick, and then started to drag the remains of the corpse back towards his cave.
It would taste better cooked, and he could risk a fire inside the cave.
Another day of life, he thought — and saw shadowy figures loom through the starlight. Hunters, tracking the wild dog, had heard his gunshot and found him.…
World Television covered the debate. Despite the sensational aspect of the subject — radio astronomers confirmed the discovery of a galactic civilization and the fact that a starship was already on its way to Earth — the debate had so far been routine speculation. What would happen if—?
Until it got down to personalities. Until Martin Baker shouted, “You’re a coward, Crane!” Then viewing figures soared.
Walter Crane, red-faced, stuck to his point. “I care about the survival of our people, and this alien ship poses a threat.”
Baker laughed. “Care for yourself, more likely! I am concerned with the progress and achievement of the human race. Nothing, and no-one, must be allowed to interfere with that.”
Crane watched the physicist as he addressed the Assembly with a bigoted enthusiasm.
“I am asking for a ship to meet our galactic colleagues, to make physical contact as soon as possible. We must not delay, but grasp this opportunity to benefit the whole of humanity. Galactic science could advance our knowledge by a century overnight.”
Baker’s voice and penetrating gaze carried the zeal of a religious fanatic.
Fear crawled along Crane’s spine. He sensed that he’d lost the debate, but still he had to fight back.
“Perhaps I am a coward, as the Honorable Member suggests, if that means I fear the unknown. An alien civilization is an unknown quantity. I worry that his ‘galactic colleagues’ may be intent on conquest. At the very least, they may be so advanced that their culture will overwhelm and replace our own.”
“Ridiculous! A galactic war is out of the question because the supply lines would be far too long. Besides, we have nuclear missiles, laser beams, biological and chemical weapons. There can be no possibility of conquest, none whatever. We need the scientific breakthrough they can provide. The galaxy will open up to us like a flower blossoming.”
As Crane anticipated, the debate went in Baker’s favor. It was a landslide victory — the votes only needed to be counted for the record — and he got the go-ahead to lead a contact mission aboard a military spaceship, the only ship ready to leave almost at once.
After his defeat, Crane left the House and called on his friend Judson to ask for help in stopping Baker.
Crane kept moving. He moved carefully because the rope bound around his boots had frayed and the surface was treacherous. He moved slowly to avoid sweating; water turning to ice on his body was always a major hazard.
For the first few minutes he traveled in an arc leading away from the cave, afraid of leading the hunters to his hideaway. Living on an island limited his options.
He dare not cross the ice-bridge to the mainland where groups of survivors fought bitterly over anything edible. The ocean was far too dangerous to risk. The boundary where ice met the as yet unfrozen deep could give way without warning, as he had discovered when he tried fishing. He could hear the dull growling of new ice grinding against the old.
His breath was a cloud of vapor in the gloom. He turned and glimpsed the dim figures of the hunters. He removed his glove and fired a warning shot in their direction, then headed for his cave. Inside, he could light a fire and eat to get his strength back. If they rushed him, he could pick them off by firelight.