“May I please have my case back then, sir?”
Morgan took the leather bundle from Goins, opened the clips, and slipped out the beribboned folder he’d meant to present for review at the end of his failed lecture. Such a mistake it had been to surprise the Planetary Society. His presentation had been posted as an overview of new observational techniques with attention to some exciting discoveries. Morgan had slyly left all the critical information out of both the proposal and the abstract.
He’d wanted his moment.
Well, now he had his moment.
“You are familiar with the idea of astronomical photography? That we can expose a plate coated with silver salts through a telescope to study the night skies?”
Goins favored Morgan with a flat stare. “Yes.”
“Good.” Morgan tugged the ribbon’s knot loose. “Some astronomers study the planets and their satellites this way. Arguing over the true count of moons about Deiwos Pater is very nearly a club sport among my colleagues.”
“Yes.”
Glancing at Goins again, Morgan saw something very flat and dangerous in the man’s eyes. Here was someone who could start a war on the far side of the world with a mere word. Power was his beyond reckoning. “I am not stalling, sir. Rather, leading you to the point.”
“Yes.”
No more stalling, he thought. “I have been studying the Earth’s libration points, both with respect to the moon and the sun. You are, ah, familiar with the concept?”
“First described by LaFerme in 1873.”
Thalassocratic reckoning, of course. “I did not realize you were an astronomer,” Morgan said, surprised.
“A presiding judge must be many things, Dr. Abutti. Not the least of which is a step ahead of the ambitious and rebellious men around him.”
Which of those categories did Goins consider him to fall into? “Very well.” Morgan held out a series of photographic prints. “The first two are the trailing and leading libration points in the Earth-Moon system, traditionally accounted the fourth and fifth positions. Each is sixty degrees in advance or in retard of the Moon. Note the photographs show only clouds of dust.”
Goins frowned as he studied the images. “I shall have to trust your word on this. A man can only be so far ahead. With what instrument were these photographs taken?”
“The eighty-eight inch refractor at Mount Sysiphe,” Abutti said, pride leaking into his voice.
“Of which you were one of the principal architects, is that not the case?”
A combination of natural modesty and self-preservation governed Morgan’s reply even in the face of a flush of pride. The Mount Sysiphe project had been much of his doctoral work. He’d even put time in on the manufacturing of the mirrors themselves, as well as supervising the great instrument’s initial installation at the site, beneath the enormous iron dome delivered by the shipwrights. “I would hardly say ‘principal,’ sir. Far more learnéd and experienced men than I sat as members of the projects Board of Governors.”
A wry smile flitted across the judge’s face. “I am aware of the distinction, Dr. Abutti. Carry on, please.”
“Your question was important to understanding my … evidence. No one has ever seen the heavens so well as those of us with access to Mount Sysiphe.”
“Which has been restricted these past three years.” Goins’ tone made it clear he was in full support of such scientific censorship.
“Yes. Even my access was challenged, as an associate fellow of the New Garaden Institute rather than a University faculty member.” The very mention of the incident recalled all too vividly his stung pride.
“Still, you no doubt persevered in the face of great pressure.”
Once more, Morgan found himself wondering if he were being mocked. “As you say, sir. In the end, the Board of Governors found it difficult to deny one of the principal architects access to his own work.”
“Ever has common decency paved the way to uncommon folly. You are forestalling your revelation, Doctor Abutti.”
“I show the Earth-Moon libration points in order to set the expectation. Of interest to orbital mechanicians, but consisting only of a few clouds of dust, and perhaps small rocks. Now, here are the Earth-Sun libration points the fourth and fifth.” He handed another set of photographic prints to Goins, then fell silent.
The presiding judge studied the new images, then compared them to the first set. He was silent a while, but Morgan did not mistake this for confusion or hesitation. Eventually, Goins looked up from the sheaf of prints in his hand.
“The fourth libration point appears to me to be little more than dust.”
Morgan nodded.
“A body is present at the fifth libration point.” Goins’ tone had gone dangerously flat again.
The man truly had known all along. “Yes.”
“What can you tell me about that body?”
“Two things,” Morgan said slowly. “First, that spectrographic analysis of its reflected light tells us that the body is a composite of metals, carbides, and oxides. A composition that is literally unique among observed bodies in the solar system.”
“And second…?”
“Sometime in the past three weeks, the body has begun to move in contravention to its known orbit. Without the influence of any observable outside force.”
Goins simply stared.
Eventually Morgan filled the silence. “Under its own power, sir. Toward Earth, as best as I can determine.”
“What does that mean to you? As a scientist?”
“That … that there is an artificial object at the fifth libration point. It has been there for an unknown amount of time. It is now coming to Earth.”
“Is that all?”
“I … I have deduced that this artificial object is an aetheric vessel, a ship of space, as it were. Achman’s Razor compels me to believe that six thousand years ago it brought us to this Earth. Otherwise I must conclude the Increate placed two intelligent species here in our world, ourselves and some other race to build this aetheric vessel. I find that even less likely than the deduction I reached from the evidence before me.”
In the silence that followed, Morgan’s own heartbeat thundered.
Finally: “And you were going to announce this to the Planetary Society?”
“Yes, sir. I told them we were not of this Earth, originally.” He took a deep breath, and added in a rush, “All of the scientific evidence that points to the Increate just as logically points to my hypothesis. It is well established across many disciplines of science that humanity simply arrived six thousand years ago. The question is how. Created whole from the dust of the world by the hand of the Increate, or aboard this aetheric vessel?”
Goins studied him carefully. “You expected to leave the building alive?”
Morgan stopped a moment. “We are all scientists there.”
“Of course.” Goins shook his head. “You are what, a fifth-degree Thalassocrete?”
Taken aback by the swift change of subject, Morgan shook his head. “Fourth-degree, sir. Alternate Thursday meetings of the Panattikan Lodge here in Highpassage.”
Goins made a flicking motion with his left forefinger and thumb. “Congratulations, you’re now a thirty-second degree Thalassocrete. By the power invested in me as Presiding Judge I so declare. Someone will teach you the secret handshake later.”
Morgan was stunned. “Sir?”
“There are some things you need to know, right now. Truths that carry the death penalty for those not of rank.” Goins leaned close. “You are now of rank. Second-youngest ever to reach this height, I might add.”