Moving Mars
Page 30
"We're away from the main body of university labs," Winkleman said with an unsteady smile. "This is the first time I've been down here myself." His face was etched with lines of concern; he looked as if he had not slept for days.
We arrived at a heavy steel sliding door. "Friends, beyond this point, only the President, Vice President, and I will pass," Winkleman announced. "I apologize, but security is very important."
The governor and the Yamaguchi advocate shook their heads but did not complain. They stood aside as Winkleman palmed the lock face.
"Please have the new President and Vice President present their palms for security coding," the door requested. "After they have done this, Ira Winkleman will place his palm on the face again to confirm identification."
We did as told and the door opened. The guards also remained outside. Beyond, a short corridor led to a high-ceilinged laboratory filled with research and test benches, heavy insulated pipes, thick bundles of electrical wiring and fiber conduits, liquid gas cylinders. Much of the equipment had an unmistakable air of disuse, covered with packing, sealant, antioxidant. Only a small corner seemed to have seen much recent activity.
"This project has been under way for about three years," Winkleman said. "You may have heard of it, Miz Majumdar ... At least, I believe you learned about some aspects of it. The scientists and support teams involved unanimously agreed to break with Cailetet about six months ago. I resigned from Cailetet and went with them to Tharsis Research University. Now, we've made an agreement with UMS, and we're moving part of our work here."
"What is this?" Ti Sandra asked, frowning impatiently.
Winkleman tried not to seem officious. Too nervous, he did not succeed. "We — the Olympians, that is — decided that Cailetet was under too much pressure from Earth. We voted to shut down the project, to pretend to have failed." He shook his head and closed his eyes in an expression of frustration. "We didn't want Achmed Crown Niger to have such power."
He escorted us to the far side of the laboratory, in the section that had seen some use. Here, behind a portable screen, three men and two women sat around a table, drinking tea and eating doughnuts. As we came into view, they stood, brushed crumbs from their clothing, and greeted us respectfully.
Charles Franklin's face had thinned. His eyes were more intense and searching, and he seemed to have grown in dignity and maturity. His colleagues seemed restless, uneasy in our company — but Charles was calm.
Winkleman introduced us. Charles smiled as we shook hands, and murmured, "We've met."
"Are these the famous Olympians?" Ti Sandra asked.
"There are four more at Tharsis. Besides, we're not so famous now," Charles said. "I never did like the name. It was more public relations than anything else — "
"For a project that was secret," observed Chinjia Park Amoy, a small dark woman with large eyes. I wondered if she and Charles were lovers. And where was Charles's wife?
The advocates brought chairs from around the lab, and we sat in a circle beside the table. Only Charles remained standing, and Winkleman gladly relinquished his role as explainer, backing away from the table to sit half in shadow.
Our slates were supplied with briefs on each of them, and as we got acquainted, I made an effort to memorize the important details. They were mathematicians and theoretical physicists, all specialists in the Bell Continuum, in descriptor theory. The senior scientist was Stephen Leander, with a thick head of silver hair and a friendly though prickly manner. Chinjia Park Amoy was a Belter who had immigrated to Mars; she had the Belter's long arms and legs and thick torso; Tamara Kwang, the youngest, with large black eyes, oolong-tea skin, carried several external enhancements as torques around her neck and upper arm; and Nehemiah Royce, of Steinburg-Leschke BM, tall and liquid-eyed, with fine brown hair covered by a silk yarmulke.
I turned my attention to the table. Several rectangular black boxes from twenty centimeters to a meter in height occupied one end. At the other end, a shining white box sat alone, linked to the others by thick optical cables. The white box was obviously a thinker, but it did not bear any marks of origin or affiliation.
Leander motioned for Royce and Kwang to bring us chairs. We sat and Ti Sandra leaned back with a deep sigh.
"I don't think I'm going to like this," she said.
"On the contrary," said Leander, sitting on the edge of the table. "We're about to present you with the most extraordinary opportunity . . . perhaps in all history."
Ti Sandra shook her head firmly. "Sounds dangerous," she said dubiously. "Opportunity being the flip side of disaster." She pinched her lips and said, "It's more than communications, if I'm not mistaken."
Leander nodded and turned to me. "Charles says Miz Majumdar might have some idea what we've discovered."
"Not really," I said. "Tweaks, I presume."
Charles smiled, eyes level on me. Over the years, he had acquired something I would never have thought possible for him: not just poise, not just self-assurance, but charisma.
"Charles once said — " I began, and stopped, feeling heat rise in my face.
Leander faced Charles.
"I once told the Vice President that I hoped to break the long status quo and discover the secrets of the universe," Charles explained.
Leander laughed. "Not so far wrong." he said. "The status quo is certainly shattered. There hasn't been anything this revolutionary since nanotech — and that will pale by comparison. Charles is our pivotal theorist, and he seems to have a knack for explaining things simply. Would you like to inform the heads of our new Republic what we're offering?"
With an uncharacteristic scowl, Ti Sandra conspicuously turned her large body toward Charles.
"We've discovered how to access the Bell Continuum, how to adjust the nature of the components of energy and matter," he began. "Together, we've developed a theory of matter and energy that is comprehensive. A dataflow theory. We know how to reach into the descriptive core of a particle, and change it."
"Descriptive core?" Ti Sandra asked.
"Every particle exists in an information matrix. It carries descriptors of all its relevant characteristics. In fact, the total description is the particle. It passes information on its character and states with other particles through exchange of bosons — photons, for example — or through the Bell Continuum. The Bell Continuum is a kind of bookkeeping system that balances certain qualities in the universe."
"What kind of matrix?" Ti Sandra asked.
"A dataflow matrix," Charles said. "Otherwise undefined."
"Like computer memory?"
"That's an occasionally useful metaphor," Leander said.
"We do not define the matrix," Charles persisted.
"God's computer?" Ti Sandra said, her frown deepening.
Charles smiled apologetically. "No gods necessary."
"Pity," Ti Sandra said. "Please go on."
"Most particles that make up matter have a description of two hundred and thirty-one bits of information — including mass, charge, spin, quantum state, components of kinetic and potential energy, their position in space and moment in time relative to other particles."
"Their portfolios," Leander said.
"Credit ratings," Royce offered. The humor fell flat.
"Very good," Ti Sandra said. "Very interesting. But why not send me a paper on your results?"
Leander sobered. "This is just background. Much of this theory is accepted in high-level physics now — "
"It's controversial in some circles," Charles said, rubbing his hands together.
"Idiots," Royce said, shaking his head in pity. "But we're the only ones who have been able to manipulate particle data by accessing the Bell Continuum," Charles said. "We can convert particles into their own anti-particles — "
"As long as we conserve charge," Royce added.
"Right. We can produce antimatter or mirror matter directly from ordinary matter."
He let that sink in. Ti Sandra looked at the Olym
pians critically, still dubious. "Would that be an energy source?" she asked.
"Tremendous amounts of energy," Leander said. "We haven't yet built a large-scale reactor, but there are no theoretical limits to the energy we can release. Harness."
"Lead into gold?" Winkleman asked.
"We can't create mass," Charles said. "Not yet."
Ti Sandra seemed genuinely stunned now. "Not yet?" she repeated. "Perhaps someday soon?"
"We don't know," Charles said. "It's not impossible, I think. But a few folks disagree."
Royce and Kwang raised their hands. "We keep the others humble," Royce said.
"I'm open to the possibility," Leander said.
"Just as significant, we can do the conversion at a distance," Charles said. "That is, we can aim at a specific region and convert matter to mirror matter within that region, at distances up to nine or ten billion kilometers. Effectively, anywhere within the Solar System."
The group fell silent for a moment. The Olympians looked at us, and each other, uncomfortably, like youngsters accused of some misdemeanor.
I stared at Charles with a mix of horror and awe.
"Does Earth know you've made this . . . discovery, this breakthrough?" I asked.
The Olympians shook their heads. "They might suspect," Charles said, "but we've kept it very quiet. Only the nine of us, and Ira, have understood how far we've come. And these recent developments . . . the most significant developments . . . they're no more than six months old."
"Cailetet?" I asked.
"They've been led to believe we've made a minor communications breakthrough, after we left them," Charles said. "Nothing more."
"How minor?" I asked.
"We've told them we can access descriptors to correlate broadcast communications with states at origin. That is, we can clean hash off radiated signals."
"Can you?" I asked.
"Of course," Charles said. He made me uncomfortable, focusing intently on me with his curious, detached expression. "But actually we can do much better than that. We can transit signals across the Solar System instantaneously."
"Have you?" I asked.
"No. Only across Mars," he replied. "Of course, we need two devices. None exist on Earth or anywhere else in the Solar System."
"What do you expect us to do?" Ti Sandra asked.
Leander and Charles spoke together, and Charles deferred to Leander. It was becoming apparent to me that Charles led the group, but that he had chosen Leander as a more mature-looking speaker. That did not stop Charles from interrupting.
"Madam President, you're at the head of the first effective government in Martian history," Leander said. "We've been worried for years now that our work would bear fruit in an improper political climate, and would be misused, or that Earth would benefit, and not Mars. In a few more years, perhaps sooner, researchers on Earth will know what we know, and that could be dangerous."
"It's dangerous for just Mars to know," I said. "If Earth believes we have this power ..."
"I agree," Charles said. "But we can't just sit on what we know."
Ti Sandra rubbed her large shoulders with crossed hands.
"Ours is an interim government," she said. "We only serve for a few months."
Leander said, "We didn't think we could afford to wait any longer."
Charles leaned his head to one side and shook it slowly, then stared at me again. "I apologize for the short notice, with no preparation," he said.
"Casseia, I do not know how to tell you . . . the importance of this. I'm no egotist — you know that."
"Well," Royce said, smiling, but Leander put his hand on the young man's shoulder.
"When you were on Earth, you asked me a question I could not answer. I apologize for that. Maybe now you understand why."
"Cailetet couldn't support you, so you turn to us," I said. The words came out more accusing than I intended. "You need money."
"Actually, we're already in a development and applications phase," Leander said. "Using a Tharsis Research grant, we've been designing motors for long-range spaceships, standard shuttles or liners refitted. In theory, we could use a few tons of propellant to cross the system in a few weeks, in comfort ..."
Charles held out his hands as if pleading. "That's hardly even a beginning. The implications of what we've learned are immense," he said, still speaking as if only to me. "We may not know everything — "
"We most certainly do not," Leander said.
"But we've opened the door," Charles finished. "We're not telling you this to get funding. It's my duty as a Martian to inform the leaders of the first true Martian government. Having done that, it is up to you to decide where we go, next."
"All right, young man," Ti Sandra said. She was not that much older than Charles or I, but her attitude did not seem out of place. "You give us the universe on a platter. Am I correct to say that?"
Leander started to speak, but Charles took over again, leaving the gray-haired scientist smiling crookedly and lifting his hands in agitation.
"We can arrange a demonstration," Charles said. "Something small but convincing. We can arrange for vapor clouds in orbit to go off like big sparklers. No damage, not much dangerous radiation, but ..."
"Earth might think something peculiar was happening," Leander cautioned.
Ti Sandra released her shoulders and folded her hands in her lap. "We don't need a big, obvious demonstration," she said. "I'd like other scientists to look over your work. We choose the scientists. Then we think about the next step."
"We think security is an important consideration," Charles said, and his colleagues nodded emphatically.
"Oh, yes," said Chinjia Park Amoy.
"Parts of our discovery are very subtle, and we happened to be a little lucky," Charles said. "But much of what we know is familiar to scientists on Earth. It might not take them long to work from a few clues ..."
"Won't it be better if everybody knows?" Ti Sandra asked.
"I don't think so," Winkleman said, stepping forward. "Earth would use it to force the rest of the Triple to do what it wants."
"Couldn't we defend ourselves?"
"There is no defense, yet," Charles said. "You'll need to understand the details to understand why. As a weapon, the uses are truly frightening. Remote conversion of matter to mirror matter . . . No defense."
"Where does all this energy come from?" Ti Sandra asked brightly, as if a new doubt gave her hope this was all a sham. "You're saying you can violate basic physical laws?"
"No," Leander said. "We just alter the books. Add here, subtract there. It balances."
"Mr. Leander, what is your association?" Ti Sandra asked.
"I'm ex-Cailetet as well," he said.
"You've all broken completely with Cailetet?"
The group nodded. "None of us trusts Achmed Crown Niger," Winkleman said.
"Do you need more money?" I asked.
"That's up to the government," Charles said. "To you."
"Not at all," I said. "We have no idea what you'll need, or what — "
My voice had started to break. Ti Sandra held my hand and squeezed it "We need time to think. And documents to study. I believe other scientists should be called in to advise us. No demonstrations for time time being. And I'm certain my Vice President will agree with me, that you should all be seriously considering the practical applications of your discoveries, and preparing another report."
"We have such a report, with detailed plans," Leander said.
Ti Sandra shook her head firmly. "Not now, please. I shall have nightmares tonight as it is. We'll get back to our duties, to our husbands ... To our private thoughts. And," she added, "to our prayers."
Charles offered his hand, as dad the others, and we all shook. "We'll do nothing without the government's agreement," Winkleman said as he escorted us to the gate, and down the tunnel beyond.
"No," Ti Sandra said. "You most certainly will not."
Ti Sandra called me into her qu
arters, the chancellor's suite, and offered me a cup of late-evening tea. Her face was gray as she poured. "I once had a dream," she said. "A beautiful man approached me and dropped a bucket of gold into my lap. I should have been very happy."
"And you weren't?" I asked.
"I was terrified. I did not want the responsibility. I told him to take it back." She drew herself up and stared at the chamber. Here, years before. Chancellor Connor had ordered the voiding of students, sparking our protest.
"You know Charles Franklin?" she asked.
"We were lovers, briefly," I said.
Ti Sandra nodded appreciatively at the confidence. "I had four lovers before Paul. None of them showed much promise. Charles Franklin must have been something."
"He was sweet and enthusiastic," I said.
"But you did not love him."
"I think I did," I said, "but I was very confused."
"And if you had lawbonded with him?"
"He asked," I said.
"Oh?" Ti Sandra sat on the couch beside me and we sipped our tea in silence for a while. "Please tell me these scientists are making bad jokes."
I did not answer.
"Madam Vice President," she said, "life is becoming a bowl of shit."
"Not cherries," I said.
"Shit," she repeated emphatically. "We are nothing but children, Casseia. We can't possibly handle this much power."
"Humans aren't ready?"
She snorted. "I don't speak for humanity. I speak for us — for simple Martians. I am terrified what Earth might do if they find out, and what we might do in return ..."
"If they ..."
"Yes," she said before I finished.
"We should look on the bright side," I said.
She ignored that with a toss of her hand and a shiver of her shoulders. "And over the years, Charles Franklin never told you? You wrote to him, asked him questions, no?"
"Once," I said. "At my uncle's urging. Charles told me he was working on something very important, and that . . . it would, it could cause us a lot of political trouble. What he actually said was that things were not going to get any easier. I thought he was exaggerating."
"Should we speak privately with Charles Franklin, or with Stephen Leander?"