Adela…
There was a beeping, more felt through the integrator than heard, that told him the tachyon link had been established with the wide-scan array set up for viewing the test.
Javas took one last look around him at the forest, inhaled one last time the cool fragrant air, then silently ordered the holographic file canceled and stored. The empty chamber appeared in its place—stark, barren, metallic—and he walked to the single plush chair that had been placed here for this event. The forest scent still lingered, but the recirculating fans were already venting the pleasant aroma out of the chamber.
He received notification that the link was ready and reclined in the chair as another silent command through the integrator plunged the chamber into sudden darkness.
The room had transformed into deep space itself. Nearly in front of him the artificial mini-star that would represent Sol in the test glowed fiercely. Above and to his right, and graphically farther away than its counterpart, another yellow star shone brightly. The intense light of the two miniature suns washed out nearly everything else in the image, and the sheer brilliance was almost too much for him; he was forced to shield his eyes with a raised arm until he could issue a command for the projection to be dimmed.
The level of brightness dropped immediately to a more comfortable setting, and allowed him to see everything with a much greater degree of detail, with a unique perspective of the test site not seen in nature. The view had been “constructed” by taking tachyon signals from two different vantage points and computer-blending them into a single vista, overlaying the images to give a picture that, while not to exact scale as far as the distances between the two stars were concerned, nevertheless allowed him to take in everything at once.
Javas was also aware, now that he could view the image without squinting, that there was much more to be seen. He could not quite tell on the farther star, but on the nearer of the pair he could see the Sarpan shielding itself, arranged around the miniature thousand-kilometer-wide sun like concentric soap bubbles nestled one inside the other. It was the inner layers of shielding, he realized from the scientific briefings, that kept the reactions contained at the right levels to simulate Earth’s G-2 star.
The shield generator ships were visible, already arranged in the distinctive pyramid shape, and were in the process of emplacing the positive singularity in the right orbit for insertion. The singularity itself was much too small to be seen, but the pale blue sphere of its shield indicated its location in the exact center of the pyramid. As the pyramid swept across the face of the Sol mini-star, the Sarpan ships were silhouetted against the bright, roiling surface.
He knew that Adela would view the playback of the event in this very room when she returned in a few days, and the grandeur of what he observed now would be in no way diminished by the fact that it would be a recording. But he couldn’t help wishing that she were beside him now, watching this with him.
“All goes well,” Oidar told his sons.
The holographic image of the Sarpan pond had been partially removed, although the projected trees mingling with the real plants lining the water’s edge still gave the impression more of a natural body of water than an artificial construct. Above them, where the projection of the twin suns had been, an image was forming that gave them an outside view of what was taking place ten thousand kilometers from the Flisth.
Oidar did not know that the projection was not as sophisticated as the one the Emperor enjoyed, nor would he have cared if he’d known. It consisted only of the single image of the mini-star representing the humans’ home Sun. The other artificial sun, placed for the test at a distance of 900,000 kilometers from this one, was but a bright dot that mingled with the many true stars that swept across the “sky.” As the projection became more defined, the little swimmers gathered around Oidar and held onto him, growing still and silent as they watched wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the magnificent spectacle above them. The image now completed, it looked to them like a new night sky, with a strange bright star where their suns had been.
The insects in the water chamber seemed puzzled by what was happening and buzzed frantically at the unnatural light.
“All goes well,” he said again, even though they would not fully understand speech for many months.
“And look there. Do you not see the generator ships?” He pointed to the pyramid formed around a pale blue sphere orbiting the glowing orb. “One day, when it comes time, the humans will build much greater generators and learn to pilot them from a distance. But for now, it is we who steer them.” Oidar looked down at his children, stroking each of them tenderly with his hands.
“This is called cooperation,” he whispered. “Remember it, for it will be your legacy.”
The holograph frame located at the front of the Port of Kowloon’s small lecture room projected two separate images, displayed side by side. One showed the mini-star representing Sol, the other presented the hypothetical G-2 feeder star.
“They’re ready to insert the singularities, Academician,” Rice said. He turned away momentarily and spoke softly into the headset he wore, then returned his attention to the images. “I’ve instructed them to begin with the negative singularity.”
“Why?” Bomeer asked, then added quickly, “Forgive me, I don’t mean to sound critical. I’m merely curious as to why the feeder star was chosen first.”
Rice shrugged. “The shielding for the feeder is the more critical of the two, as far as permeability is concerned. If scanning shows a problem with the shielding once the negative singularity has been inserted, we’ll stop everything then, before attempting anything with the breeder.”
Bomeer nodded, and regarded the projections.
The two men watched the image on the right as the pyramid made a gentle spiral around the star, each pass taking it through the outer layers of the shielding and bringing it closer to the surface. Just when it seemed, from the aspect of the holograph, that it would touch the star itself, the pyramid began to expand and flatten into a pattern closer to that of a square with the blue sphere still held equidistant from the four individual generators. The square continued its expansion until the dimensions were greater than the star, all the while still orbiting the glowing orb as a huge flat sheet might circle it.
As the orbit of the generators altered, the sphere brushed the star at about the same time the four generator ships completed the adjustment to their course that took them in a full orbit around the star. Then, like a hoop being drawn over a floating ball, the ring of generator ships drew the sphere at its center into the star, slowly, slowly, until it finally disappeared into the interior. The ships increased speed, widening their orbit considerably around the star.
“I’m curious,” Bomeer inquired. “How far away can the generator ships get and still maintain their hold on the singularity?”
“At this scale, with generators rated only for this experiment, they can go about four thousand kilometers out and still maintain the integrity of their lock on the sphere. They’ll need to go much farther out when we do this with Sol, of course, and we’ll need to increase the size of the generator ships, but that’s still very far away. These ships will hold the pattern at a distance of three thousand kilometers.”
As he said this, the four Sarpan generator ships reached their apogee and revolved smoothly around the star, waiting for the next step to begin.
Supreme Commander Fain was pleased, as he watched the insertion at the feeder star, with how smoothly the operation was going. He was no less gratified at the way the combined efforts of science and military meshed, not to mention the careful cooperation of the crews of the five-man generator ships—or, more accurately, crews consisting of one man and four Sarpan pilots. As much in favor as he was of this joint effort, and as much assimilation time his handpicked officers had experienced, he still could not help the nagging feeling of trepidation going through him now.