He wiped at his forehead again, his handkerchief nearly soaked, and promised himself that the next time he came to the open lab he would forgo at least one of the trappings of the protocol he so dearly loved: He would leave his heavy academician’s tunic behind in his stateroom and come in his shirt sleeves.
Dr. Rice was describing what he was about to see and had row after columned row of figures displayed on the wall flatscreen. As he spoke, Bomeer paid little attention. He had seen these figures before, a hundred times, at least; and his mind wandered to other things.
Why doesn’t it put on a damned helmet or something, he thought bitterly as his eyes strayed to the alien standing resolutely next to Rice, so we can return this facility to human temperature? The alien blinked eye membranes, oblivious to Bomeer’s thoughts.
He leaned his head back to better wipe at his throat and felt a slight dizziness come over him. While he usually relished playing the role of overseeing the experimentation even to the point of restricting its forward motion to better suit his idea of progress, he realized that if he stayed in the open lab much longer there was a good chance of his passing out from heatstroke.
“Please, Dr. Rice,” he said, holding up the hand with the handkerchief, “perhaps it would be better to see the playback and then correlate the figures with what I’ve seen, rather than the other way around.”
The alien blinked several times in rapid succession and tilted its head inquiringly. “That is possible,” it said simply, before Rice could answer.
“Thank you, Oidar.” Bomeer pronounced it with three syllables, “Oh-Ih-Dar,” in spite of the fact that Rice had personally attempted on several occasions—in private, of course—to help him with Sarpan names and terminology.
“Very good, then,” Bomeer went on. “Perhaps the sooner we can begin, the sooner I can file my report to the Emperor.”
Rice smiled politely, although Bomeer suspected he hadn’t been fooled by his offer to speed up the filing of his report. The young scientist was well aware of how he felt about the environment of an Imperial facility being reset for the alien’s comfort.
Rice led him to the holographic display area in the corner of the lab. There were several comfortable chairs here, and the two of them took seats facing the corner. The alien had gone to the fountain to remoisten the skin of its exposed face and neck before joining them, and Bomeer made sure to select a seat that put Rice between him and the alien. In spite of his efforts, he still felt uncomfortably close to the Sarpan, and wrinkled his nose at the scent it gave off. He wondered—again—how Rice managed to stand working in such close proximity to it.
“System, dim lights,” Rice said. The lighting in the viewing area decreased by half. “Please start playback of file designated as Rice two-oh-four, version one. Normal speed.”
A collection of eight red cylinders appeared in two groupings of four each. Code numbers superimposed themselves in the air above each cylinder as the groupings separated and moved to opposite sides of the projection area to form two pyramids. Once again code numbers, scrolling statistics and intensity readings appeared and changed as the playback progressed.
As the image changed, Rice gave a running commentary as to what they were watching. “This is the shielding phase of the insertion. The cylinders represent the Sarpan generators that will be used to contain the singularities before they’re inserted into the star cores.”
A glowing sphere, representing the contained singularities, appeared at the center of each pyramid. The one on the left was pale blue; the one on the right dark blue.
“And this shield will be enough to contain them?” Bomeer asked. “The figures bear this out?”
“Yes, sir,” Rice replied. “We’ve been able to create microscopic singularities—both negative and positive—in the laboratory for many years. They were short-lived, of course, and served only as an aid to the study of black and white holes. It wasn’t until the advanced technology of the Sarpan shielding became available to us that we even dreamed of being able to create anything large enough to remain stable. In any event, the Sarpan shielding should serve very well to contain the singularities until deposited in each star. The application in the next phase, the physical test, will bear this out.”
Oidar leaned forward and caught Bomeer’s eye. It was smiling, and even though Bomeer knew that the Sarpan tongue didn’t even have a word for it, he managed to convince himself that the alien was gloating over its own importance.
When he looked back to the projection, he saw that two stars had been added to the scene. The images were not to scale for this model, and each star appeared only slightly larger than the pyramids in the projection. Again, a series of numbers and energy values scrolled in the air above them.
“All right,” Rice continued. “While the scale here can’t show it, the singularities are in tow to their respective stars, in preparation for insertion.”
Each of the pyramids began rotating slowly, giving the appearance that they were orbiting the glowing containment in the center. The rate of spin increased, and each pyramid moved gently into the stars, taking the glowing spheres with them, until they finally disappeared inside.
Visually nothing more happened. More numbers appeared and additional statistics scrolled rapidly by, but to his eye everything seemed exactly the same.
“That’s it?” Bomeer asked incredulously, certain that there must be more to the model than what he’d just seen.
The alien scientist became unexpectedly flustered with impatience and looked pleadingly at Rice. It was clear to Bomeer that his statement had upset it, but he couldn’t figure out why. Rice spoke quietly to the alien, then turned back to him, the expression on his face, while completely human, reflecting the same puzzled look he’d seen in the alien’s features.
“Academician, I’m not sure I follow you.” Dr. Rice shook his head in frustration and glanced at the alien once more before going on. “I thought I’d made it clear a few minutes ago what we’ve been doing here during this stage of the modeling. Everything we’ve said relates to the data stick reports I’ve supplied to you on a regular basis. What aspect, exactly, don’t you understand?”
He could not admit, of course, that he had only superficially examined the reports contained in the data sticks Rice had dutifully provided him. They had been long and tedious, rarely containing anything new regarding the original theories espoused by Adela de Montgarde, and he had only skimmed them. Worse, even though the two scientists had obviously been more excited than usual, he’d failed to give them his full attention at the beginning of their discussion here today. A wave of embarrassment washed over Bomeer at being caught, and he felt even hotter than before.
“What I review in your recorded reports and what I review personally here in the open lab are two different things,” he said sternly in an attempt to cover himself. “I expect your presentations to be at least as complete as what you send me on the sticks. Is this a problem?”
A look of subdued anger flashed across Rice’s face, then just as quickly disappeared. For a moment, Bomeer thought that Rice was going to call his bluff, but the scientist merely shrugged his shoulders and said, nodding in deference, “You’re correct, of course, Academician. My apologies.”