Starfire

25

John Hyslop surveyed the assembled group. If only they were mountaineers as well as engineers!

When you were climbing the highest peaks of Earth you had to make a lot of technical decisions: from which side and along which path you would attempt to scale the mountain; where you would establish base camp; how much time you allot to the adjustment of the climber’s body to extreme altitude; how much equipment you would carry; and when and where you would use oxygen. Would you even use oxygen at all?

Important decisions. Each could be the difference between life and death. But none of them was the toughest and the most controversial.

That problem came on the final day of the ascent. You were close to the summit, you were weary, your body was so starved of oxygen that your brain was on autopilot and your feet felt like lead. You had come to within a thousand — maybe five hundred — feet of planting a flag at the top. Now you had to make the hardest call of all: Did you keep climbing the final ridge to the mountain-top that you seemed so clearly able to reach? Or, with the goal so visible and so tempting, did you recognize that a descent must follow an ascent? You had to decide, very quickly, if you had enough time and daylight and strength to continue to the top, and after that return to base.

The team leader made the call. If you decided that the wise choice was to retreat, you gave the word to turn around and expected a monstrous amount of grumbling when you got back to base camp. But the team respected your decision during the climb. There could be only one boss.

John was about to make a similarly tough decision. He examined the group one by one. They had the worn-down pallor of people who worked too hard and slept too little, but in mountain-climbing terms they were not on the final leg of the ascent. They had hardly reached base camp. Sky City was flying steadily on toward Cusp Station, but the journey was barely past its halfway point.

How was the group likely to react to the news that their efforts were useless?

Wilmer Oldfield and Star Vjansander were not engineers. They would presumably go along with John’s judgment. The same was true of Seth Parsigian and Maddy Wheatstone. He caught her eye, received a dazzling smile in return, and looked away.

Will Davis would be all right, too. He was the one who had brought the word to John, and he would be ready with his own supporting arguments. Amanda Corrigan would not argue; she was obsessed with her own problems of computer access and use. Jessie Kahn was probably too junior to question him.

That left Lauren Stansfield and Torrance Harbish. Both sometimes had strong opinions, and both were unpredictable. You never knew what thoughts ran behind Lauren’s amber eyes or Torrance’s dark countenance.

Everyone was staring at John. It was time to take the plunge.

“I have news, and it’s not good. We can’t go ahead with the new particle defense scheme.” That certainly had their attention. “Not, at least, the way we planned it. The problem lies in particle bundle detection. We intended to generate a low-intensity wide-angle field, so that each incoming bundle would interact with the field and generate a traveling EM wave of its own. We would pick up that signal and use it to calculate the bundle trajectory. Then we could deflect the bundle away from Earth with a direct and stronger beam.

“It sounds practical, even easy. But the first part won’t work. We have no way to generate a field complete enough to allow us to track every bundle.” John nodded at Will Davis. “Will did the calculations, and he’ll be happy to go over them with you. It looks like maybe ten percent of the bundles will escape detection.”

“Ten percent get through?” Jessie Kahn reacted at once. “What does that mean for Earth?”

“The most you can say is that it’s better than a hundred percent. But it will mean the immediate loss of the ionosphere, the later loss of the ozone layer, massive heat imbalance between the Northern and Southern Hemispheres — which means freak weather — and a radio communications blackout. It could be as bad as the original Alpha C effects in 2026, but of course we’ll be a lot better prepared for it.”

“How long do we have?” Lauren Stansfield was making notes in her usual tidy fashion. She was as gray-faced and weary as anyone, but somehow, even though John had called the meeting without warning, she was carefully dressed and wearing makeup.

“That’s another bit of bad news. Another Sniffer was launched two weeks ago on a crash basis. It can’t do detailed analysis, but it reports that the big slug of particle bundles will hit in twenty-six days.”

“Then we must keep going.” Torrance Harbish spoke with force and conviction. “Look at the alternative. The old shield won’t work, we know that. Even if it’s not going to be perfect, we must have the new defense system. We’re wasting time. We should leave here and work harder than ever.”

“I hear you, Torrance. But I’m going to demand some more of your time. I didn’t call you together just to pass on bad news.” John glanced at each person in turn. “There’s another reason for this meeting. Every one of you has a first-rate intellect. I want the benefit of those. You’re all tired, but I called us together because we need ideas.”

“I don’t know about the first-rate intellect bit.” It was Will Davis. “You’ve already had my two cents’ worth, boyo, but I’ll say it again for the benefit of everyone. We charge ahead with the new defense, even though it won’t be perfect. And we tell Earth to get ready for trouble.”

Amanda Corrigan added, “More than trouble, Will — disaster. I’ve got my whole family down there. Look, this isn’t my area of expertise, so maybe it’s a dumb question. But why can’t we beef up the strength of the low-intensity field?”

“Will?” John didn’t want to talk; he wanted to listen.

Davis nodded and turned to Amanda Corrigan. “We could. But that’s not the problem. The field isn’t generated from a single point; it’s done with a distributed array of tuned oscillators. Even when the oscillator phases are matched as well as possible, you get regions where the contributions from different sources reinforce each other, and others where they tend to cancel.”

Amanda was frowning, more than ever like a puzzled teenager. John asked, “Do you get it?”

“I don’t think so. I guess I’m dumb.”

“No. You’re just tired.”

“That too. So what if the fields cancel in places?”

“Will?”

Davis nodded. “Think of it as a three-dimensional interference pattern. The particle bundles will be coming in at random, so some of them will slide through along paths where the field cancels. If they don’t encounter enough field to generate a signal, we don’t detect them. If we don’t know they’re there, we can’t zap them with a stronger pulse and direct them away. So they make it all the way, and hit Earth.”

“Increasing the strength of the low-intensity field won’t solve the problem?”

“No. We’d still have dead spots.”

“Can’t you do something to average the field?” Jessie asked. “If you could make it more uniform, the low points would disappear.”

Will Davis shrugged. “You can fiddle with the oscillator strengths. But it’s like working with an air mattress. If you push it down in once place, it bulges up higher somewhere else.”

“What about putting something out in space?” Jessie was young, but she could be dogged when she had an idea in her head. “Couldn’t a superconducting mesh average the field?”

“It could.” Davis raised his eyebrows. “Have to be twenty thousand kilometers across, mind you, and thirty thousand kilometers out beyond Cusp Station. We could make something like that — if we had a few years. How long did you say we have, John?”

“Twenty-six days before the main hit. But Amanda and Jessie have the right idea. Keep thinking.”

Advice easier to give than to follow. In the long silence that followed, John glanced from one perplexed face to the next. He was asking his engineering team for a miracle.

The person who eventually spoke was not one of his team. Star Vjansander had been nudging Wilmer Oldfield, muttering to him, and blowing out her round cheeks. Now she frowned at Wilmer and said, “What was it that feller Colombo said in our first meeting out here, about Missus Hommit going ter see a mountain?”

It was blank stares all round, until Wilmer said mildly, “Not Ma Hommit, you softheaded git. Mahomet.”

“Yeah, that one. I’m rotten with names. If the mountain wouldn’t go to Mahomet, he’d have to go ter the mountain.” She nodded to John, as though confirming something he had said. “So that’s what yer have to do.”

“Star, you’re jumping so far ahead you’re falling all over yourself. You always do.” Wilmer turned to Will Davis. “How close to finished was the old shield?”

“Ninety percent plus. All the structure and stability was done, but we were still missing batches of sensors.” Davis shook his head. “Seven years of my life in that bloody thing, and it’s useless. Ah, well. Easy come, easy—”

“Don’t give up on it.” Wilmer went on, slowly and thoughtfully. “It’s useless as a shield, but it’s covered with a superconducting mesh. That’s what was going to divert the particles when we thought they were coming in as single nuclei. The mesh isn’t enough to deal with the bundles, they’re too massive. But could it do what Jessie said, and average the detection field that we create?”

It was like the promise of reinforcements to a tired army. John saw the engineers straighten up in their seats. “Can it, Will?”

“It could, very easily. But the shield is in the wrong place. To average the detection field, the shield would have to move thirty thousand kilometers farther out. That’s not impossible, but the structure is so fragile and so finely balanced that the operation would take a few months. We don’t have months. We have just a few weeks.”

“I know.” Star was bobbing up and down in her chair. “I know. That’s why I said what I did. Yer don’t take the mountain ter what’s-’is-name, you leave the mountain where it is.”

“Shut up, Star. You’ll give people headaches.” Wilmer reached out and pushed her back into her seat. “Just keep quiet, and let me explain your idea.”

“I’ve heard you explain things before. Yer’ll bore ’em to death, you old fart.”

Wilmer took no notice. He went on in his unhurried way, “She’s bright, you see, but when she gets excited she gibbers like a monkey. Here is the position, as I understand it. The old space shield is no use as a shield anymore, because it’s far too fragile to divert the high-mass particle bundles. However, it would serve perfectly to average the low-intensity field that detects those bundles. Unfortunately, it is in the wrong place relative to Cusp Station, where you have installed the generators for high-energy pulses that can divert particle bundles away from Earth. To serve that purpose, the shield would have to be moved thirty thousand kilometers away from Cusp Station, in the direction of Alpha Centauri, since that is where the particle storm is coming from. However, the shield is so delicate that such movement would have to be done very slowly, at minuscule acceleration. It therefore appears that we have reached a solution too late. The particle storm will be here before the shield can be relocated.

“We would appear to be faced with an insoluble problem. That, however, is an illusion. The fragile shield cannot be moved in time. But why not, as Star suggests, invert the problem? We do not care about absolute position, we care only about relative position. Rather than moving the shield thirty thousand kilometers toward Alpha Centauri, Cusp Station must move thirty thousand kilometers away from Alpha Centauri — closer to Earth.” Wilmer turned to John. “One question remains, which I regard as an engineering detail: Is Cusp Station strong enough to withstand the necessary acceleration?”

“If a group of you physicists wanted to land on the surface of the Sun and do experiments, you’d say the design of the ship that takes you there and back was engineering details.” John was cursing — at himself. He was sure that the rest of his team was feeling the same way. To miss an obvious possible solution, and have it pointed out by a pair of physicists, who sat with their heads in the clouds . . . He went on, “Cusp Station has to be strong enough. We fly it inward even if it falls apart on the way. And we must change the trajectory of this place, too, so Sky City finishes next to Cusp Station’s new location and we can fast-link the computers. Amanda?”

“A few hours’ calculation.” She rolled her head from side to side, as though she was attempting the calculation mentally. “If thirty thousand is a good working number for the move toward Earth, I’ll have you a flight profile for Cusp Station and a modified one for Sky City by this evening.”

“Will?”

“Cusp Station was built rugged. I’ll be out there anyway, installing the field loop generators. Say, one day to decide where the mirror-matter thrustors go, two days to attach. Three days from now we’ll be ready to move.”

“Torrance? How about Sky City?”

“We’re running close to maximum stresses in some places already. What are you looking for?”

“Too soon to tell. Aim for a factor of two.”

“Christ. We may fall apart.”

“If this works, we’ll have plenty of time for repairs. If not, we won’t need ’em. Lauren, you know the interior structure of Sky City better than anyone. I rely on you to pick out the weakest spots and be ready to strengthen them.” John glanced again around the group. He saw new energy on every face. “Anything else? I know there are a thousand details to be discussed and worked through, but I don’t want to take the time of the whole group on every one.”

Lauren Stansfield said, “A question that’s not engineering. When do we tell other people about this?”

“As soon as anyone asks. Just don’t waste time on long explanations. From the point of view of most people, nothing has changed. The old shield can’t handle the particle bundles, we’re building a new particle defense system, and it’s touch and go. That’s all still true — the job just became more difficult.”

“No.” Will Davis stood up. “An hour ago it was impossible. Now there’s hope, so it must be easier. Good one, Star.”

He left, and the others wandered out after him. Star Vjansander went reluctantly, saying, “It was my idea. I oughter stay and help.”

“It was your idea.” Wilmer shepherded her out. “And you ought to go. Anything you touch, you smash.”

Finally it was just John and Maddy Wheatstone. She came right up to him. “You know I’m not a trained engineer. But I’ll do anything I can to help.”

John asked the question he had been putting off for over a week. “Don’t you have to go back to Earth? I’m sure the Argos Group has other assignments for you now.”

“I don’t work for the Argos Group anymore. I quit.”

“You resigned? Why?” He saw the tormented expression in her eyes. “I’m sorry, I know that’s none of my business.”

“It’s all right. I resigned because of — personal reasons.”

“I see.” But he didn’t.

She seemed wilted, as though someone had sucked all the life out of her, as she said, “If you don’t mind, I don’t want to talk about it now.”

“I see.” John had no idea what to do next. He was tired, worried, and his head buzzed with a million technical problems. There was no way on earth that Maddy Wheatstone could possibly solve any of them. The logical thing to do was to let her leave.

Then he stopped thinking and said, “If you’re not going back to Earth right away, would you have dinner with me?” He counted his racing pulse through a long and awful pause, then added, “I didn’t mean tonight; I’m sure you have other plans. Anytime. I’m free anytime.”

She stood a foot away from him, breathing heavily. At last she said, “You’re not free ever. Not until the particle storm has been and gone.”

“I’ll make time. When?”

“Tonight’s as good as any. Where?”

“I’ll pick you up at your rooms.”

“You know where that is?”

“Yes, I know. Remember?”

“I do. When I saw you standing there in the middle of the night it scared me half to death.” Maddy smiled — at last. “I’ll do better this time; I won’t be scared. Let’s eat early. All right?”

She stared at him, waiting, while he did and said nothing. At last she turned and left.

John collapsed back into his chair. His thoughts skipped all over the place. The old shield was no good. The new defense system did not exist. Earth was in terrible danger. The next few weeks were going to be filled with enormous amounts of labor and dreadful risks. And he was doing — what?

He wasn’t quite sure, but whatever it was, he suspected that he had chosen the worst moment in history to do it.

Maddy left the engineering center with her mind in turmoil. They had been alone together, John showed real interest in her, and even then she had not been able to tell him what the Argos Group was doing on Sky City. She couldn’t make sense of her own feelings. She hated what Gordy Rolfe had said to her, but he had taught her everything she knew about business. Gordy was the reason that she was here. He was also a crook and a lunatic. And if the Argos Group was delivering inferior products and sabotaging shield development, nothing could be more important than that.

Celine Tanaka, when Maddy finally got through to her, had been skeptical. “Slowing shield development? And delivering defective materials? That’s quite an accusation, against your own employer.”

“I don’t work for the Argos Group anymore.”

“Ah. I see.”

Maddy knew what Celine must be thinking. “Look, it’s not that I’m vindictive and trying to get back at Gordy Rolfe. This is really happening.”

“You have proof? And others will back you up?”

“Not real proof.”

It sounded weak, and it was. After an uncomfortably long silence, Celine said, “I’ll look into this. But I have to move carefully. You’re making a very serious charge.”

“I know.”

“Until I get back to you, don’t say another word to anyone.”

That order from Celine Tanaka was the hardest part. Maddy had wanted to tell John everything that she knew. But what did she know? Gordy himself had told her that it was all hearsay.

Was she helping to save Earth from destruction, or was she utterly deluded? There seemed nothing in between.

Maddy slowed her steps as she approached the elevator shaft leading down toward the perimeter. Should she go back?

The decision was made for her. There, waiting by the elevator, was one source of her problems. But for him she wouldn’t be agonizing over her actions.

Seth Parsigian nodded. “Got a second?”

“If it’s Argos business, I don’t.” Maddy needed to say it to somebody who understood, even if it was only to the unshaven thug lounging in front of her. “I’m out of there. I did it. I called Gordy and resigned.”

Dark eyebrows rose high on the smooth forehead. “Whoo. That’s what I call livin’ dangerous. I wondered if you’d carry through. I guess it helps that you’re out here where he can’t get at you. What did he say?”

“Nothing much. Called me an ungrateful bitch, a faithless fucker, and a worthless whore. Told me I’d never work again, anywhere. He took it real well.”

“I’d say. What’d you tell him?”

Maddy hesitated. She had mentioned the Argos Group’s fleecing of Sky City, but she had been careful not to use Seth’s name or to quote his assertion of deliberate shield delays. “I kept pretty quiet. When Gordy’s on a rant he doesn’t leave you much space.”

“Too true. Makes you wonder why we work for him. Or did, in your case. He’s gettin’ worse. Maybe I oughter be outa there, too.” He was eyeing her, making some decision of his own. “Look, this is nothin’ to do with Argos Group business. Yesterday I told you I knew who the Sky City murderer was. You didn’t believe me, did you?”

“Of course I didn’t. If you knew, you’d tell security.”

“Suppose you were dead sure who it was, but you didn’t have hard evidence. Nothin’ enough to stand up legally. What would you do then?”

“I suppose I’d try to get evidence.”

“You really want to catch the killer?”

“What sort of question is that? Of course I do.”

“Would you ask other people to help you if you knew who did it?”

“I might.”

“Well, so might I. I really do know the name of the murderer. But there’s no hard evidence, so catchin’ the killer ain’t simple. There’s a way that might work, only I’ll need help.”

“I already told you, I’ll not go wandering around Sky City with you again.”

“It’s nothin’ like that. I want you to do just one thing, an’ for you it will be easy. I want you to arrange a meetin’, just me, you, and lover-boy John. But before that meeting you gotta make him swear, to you personally, that he won’t say nothin’ to anybody else until the killer’s under arrest.”

“He’ll not agree to that. Why should he?”

“For me, he wouldn’t. Otherwise I’d ask him. You, it’s different. He’d let you flay him and use his naked hide for seat covers.”

“That is gross and disgusting. Also nonsense.”

“You don’t see him lookin’ at you. He thinks the sun shines outa — well, never mind. If I’m wrong, you got nothin’ to lose by tryin’.” He was staring at her with an odd intensity. “Will you talk to him?”

“I will not. Why should I? I don’t owe you. And I don’t work for Gordy anymore, so I don’t owe Argos.”

“You don’t owe me an’ Gordy, all right. But mebbe you owe somebody else.”

Seth stared at Maddy in silence until she turned away. She said softly, “I don’t owe anybody.”

“Mebbe you do. Could be you owe twelve teenagers.”

Maddy looked again into Seth’s brown eyes. He was conning her, she just knew it. It made no difference. She had lost the argument.

He said, “Listen to me. I’m gonna break one of my own rules. I’m gonna tell you before I know you’re aboard.”

For the next ten minutes he spoke and she said not a word. At the end of it, he asked, “Well?”

She had a perfect opportunity to ask John; she could do it when they were having dinner. A perfect opportunity to talk about a perfectly awful subject.

Would she do it? Why should she do it, when the evening offered the first-ever chance for a private and intimate meal with John?

The forlorn corpse of Lucille DeNorville, abandoned and floating in limbo, drifted slowly forward from the back of her mind.

She nodded. “I will. I’ll ask him tonight.”

Why didn’t life ever go the way it was supposed to?