by Greg Bear
“The Stone was emptied, then, not simply because of a mass social migration, but to fulfill a definite plan. The people behind the plan apparently, gave their more conservative fellows a century to comply, and when they still proved reluctant, moved them out against their will. Oddly enough, we have evidence that some of the orthodox Naderites were forced to live in Thistledown City for a few years.
“We assume that all the Stoners exited by way of the corridor. We have no physical proof of this, and no knowledge yet why the exodus occurred, or why the powers behind the exodus wished the Stone to be completely deserted.”
The presentation ended with a series of projected pictures showing living quarters in Alexandria and diagrams of theorized population levels for different centuries in the second and third chambers. To scattered applause, Rainer returned the lectern to Rimskaya.
“The anthropology and archaeology groups have done a wonderful job, don’t you agree?” he prompted, gesturing to those in the front row of seats.
Patricia stood as there was more applause. Takahashi followed her out of the cafeteria and into the tubelight.
“That’s fascinating,” she said, “and I appreciate the tour today. They’re working in the dark, aren’t they?”
Takahashi shrugged, then nodded. ”Yes. The sosh and anthro groups don’t have level three clearances. Rimskaya guides them as best as he can without breaching security.”
“Don’t you get sick of this charade?”
Takahashi shook his head vigorously. ”No. It is essential.”
“Maybe,” Patricia said doubtfully. ”I have a lot of work to do before Lanier returns.”
“Certainly. Do you wish an escort?”
“No. I’m going back to Alexandria for a while. Then I’ll be in the seventh chamber if you need me for anything.”
Takahashi paused, hands in his pockets, and nodded, then returned to the cafeteria.
Farley came out seconds later and caught up with her by the garage outside the compound. ”Hitch a ride?” she asked.
“Rupert’s given me driving lessons. I think it would relax me to drive for a while.”
“Certainly,” Farley said. They signed out a truck and climbed aboard.
Chapter Fourteen
The room smelled of stale smoke, air conditioning and nervous labor. When Lanier and Hoffman entered, there were four others already inside, all men. Two wore silver-gray polyester suits; bulky, balding, comic-opera Russians. The other two wore tailored wool worsteds; their styled hair and their girths were just barely respectable. Hoffman smiled at all as amenities were exchanged, after which everyone sat around an oval conference table. An awkward silence drew out through several minutes as they waited for Hague and Cronberry to arrive.
When the groups were evenly matched, the senior Russian official, Grigori Feodorovski, removed a single sheet of paper from a cardboard folder and laid it on the table. He then pulled a pair of wife-frame glasses over his nose and behind his ears with one smooth sweep of a hand gripping the temple piece.
“Our governments have some necessary points of discussion concerning the Stone or, as we call it, the Potato.” His English was excellent. His expression was calm and unhurried.
“We have presented these objections to ISCCOM, and now we must hear what you have to say.
“While we concede under protest that primary exploration rights go to those who first visited the Stone—” That, Lanier recalled, had been a concession two years in coming. ”—we feel that the Soviet Union and our allied sovereign states have been cheated of their rights. While Soviet scientists have been allowed on the Stone, they have been constantly harassed and not allowed to conduct their work. They have been denied access to important information. In light of these and other grievances, which are at this moment being presented to your President and the Senate Space Advisory Council, we feel that ISCCOM has been compromised, and that the Soviet Union and sovereign ally states have been ...” he cleared his throat, as if embarrassed—”treated most malignantly. Our fellow states have been advised that further participation in the multinational Stone investigation, dominated as it is by the United States and NATO-Eurospace, will serve no purpose. Therefore we will soon withdraw our personnel and support for this enterprise.”
Hoffman nodded, her lips pressed tightly together. Cronberry waited for the requisite ten seconds to consider the statement, then spoke. ”We regret your decision. We feel that allegations made against ISCCOM, NATO-Eurospace and the Stone personnel in the past have proven unfounded, based on unfortunate rumors. Is the decision of your superiors final?”
Feodorovski nodded. ”The ISCCOM agreements made with regard to the Stone demand the withdrawal of all Stone investigators until these issues are resolved.”
“That’s completely impractical,” Hoffman said.
Feodorovski shrugged, pursing his lips. ”Nevertheless, that is what the agreements stipulate.”
“Mr. Feodorovski,” Hague said, putting both hands on the table, palms up, a gesture which Lanier studied closely, “we believe there are other reasons, not yet stated, for the withdrawal of your personnel. May we discuss these things?”
Feodorovski nodded. ”With the warning that none of us are empowered to negotiate or make formal statements.”
“Understood. Neither are we. I think we all need to relax a bit, to see our way clear to ... deal honestly, forthrightly, with each other.” He looked at Feodorovski and the others, eyebrows raised in query. They nodded. ”Our President has been informed that the USSR believes dangerous information of a technological, weapons-oriented nature has been discovered on the Stone,” Hague said.
Feodorovski’s face was blank, held in an attitude of polite attention.
“While it is true that NATO-Eurospace has begun the investigation of certain heretofore neglected aspects of the Stone’s second and third chambers—”
“Against our wishes and protests,” Feodorovski said.
“Yes, but with your final agreement.”
“Under duress.”
“Indeed,” Hague said, again raising his brows and looking down at the desk. ”While this has been our ceded area of investigation, there has been no such information discovered aboard the Stone.”
And indeed, there had not. The libraries contained no specific information on weapons.
“Under the agreements, any such discovery would be reported immediately to the arbitration board in Geneva.”
“That may be so,” Feodorovski said. Lanier wondered what purpose the other three served—place-keepers? Backups? Overseers keeping tabs on Feodorovski? ”But we are not concerned with such reports. Let me speak frankly.” Now he, too, placed both hands on the table, palms up. ”I cannot speak formally, remember. As a private citizen, allow me to express my concern in this matter.” He took a deep breath, full of worry. ”We are all, in a sense, colleagues. We have many of the same interests. Let me say that this report about new weapons technology, this is not an important issue. My government, and the governments of our sovereign ally states, are far more concerned about reports that libraries on the Stone, in the second and third chamber cities, to be specific, contain accounts of a full war between our countries.”
Lanier was stunned. He had thought security aboard the Stone—certainly around the libraries—was extremely tight. Would he be held responsible for such a hideous leak—or was the leak from another source, perhaps the President’s office, or Hoffman’s?
“This is a highly unusual situation,” Feodorovski continued. “Frankly, my colleagues and I have a difficult time believing we are not living a fairy tale.” The other three nodded, not quite in unison.
“But these reports are reliable. What do you have to say about them?”
“The libraries have been approached cautiously,” Hague said. “We’ve just begun to process the information stored there.”
Feodorovski looked up at the ceiling, exasperated. ”We have pledged to speak frankly with each other. M
y government knows such information exists in the libraries. In fact, we are certain that the accounts of this future war are already in the hands of your President.”
He looked around the table. Lanier met his gaze steadily and noticed a flicker of smile on his lips. ”Yes,” Feodorovski said. “We know, of course, that humans built the Stone, or will build it, centuries from now. We know that it will be constructed from the asteroid known as Juno. We know this because in every particular the asteroid Juno and the Stone are identical. Our spacecraft in the asteroid belt has confirmed this.”
“Mr. Feodorovski, we are dealing with a very unusual problem,” Hoffman said. ”We are certain that the Stone does not come from our universe, but from an alternate universe. We strongly believe that the information contained in the libraries could be misinterpreted. They may not predict conditions in our world in any way. The scientific data could be useful, and we are studying that closely, but releasing information haphazardly could be disastrous.”
“Nevertheless, there is such a history.”
Cronberry said, “If there is, we are not privy to it.”
Lanier felt his heart sink. He hated lies, even necessary lies. He hated being a party to lies. Yet he no more wanted the Russians to get the information in the libraries than Cronberry and Hague. That made him a liar.
The Russian seated closest to Feodorovski—Yuri Kerzhinsky—leaned over to whisper in his ear. Feodorovski nodded.
“Mr. Lanier,” he said, “do you deny the existence of this information?”
“I don’t know anything about it,” Lanier said smoothly.
“But you concede, do you not, that if such information exists, being aware of it, knowing certain dates, even certain hours, knowing the situations and consequences in advance would be of great strategic value, and also would put a very great strain on you individually?”
“I imagine it would,” Lanier said.
Hague interrupted. ”Mr. Lanier is not to be badgered—”
“Very sorry,” Feodorovski said. ”My apologies. But our concern is larger than individual politenesses.”
Kerzhinsky stood up abruptly. ”Gentlemen. You realize there is now very grave tension between our nations, perhaps the gravest since the 1990s. It is our opinion that troubles aboard the Stone are jeopardizing world peace. The Stone is increasing tensions, particularly with regard to this issue about libraries. It is obvious that we cannot resolve these difficulties at this level of dialogue. Therefore, I see no further need for discussion here.”
“Mr. Kerzhinsky,’ Hoffman said. ”I have a paper here I believe your Party Secretary should see. It states the position of all the scientists aboard the Stone with regard to cooperation. And I think it clarifies the rumors of harassment.”
Kerzhinsky shook his head and tapped his forefinger on the table several times. ”We are no longer interested in such posturings. Harassment is not the issue. The libraries are the issue. Talks are proceeding at a formal level right now. We can only hope for better results there.” The four stood and Hague escorted them to the door.
Outside the door, a secret service agent took them in charge.
Hague closed the door and turned back to the others. ”That,” he said, “is that.”
“Makes me sick,” Lanier said in an undertone.
“Oh?” Cronberry said, rising halfway from her seat. ”And what would you have us do, Mr. Lanier? You’re the one responsible, you know that? You didn’t keep a tight rein on security, and now we have this mess ... this goddamn diplomatic catastrophe. Why did you ever open the libraries in the first place? Couldn’t you just smell the trouble they’d cause? I would have smelled it, by God. The whole place must reek.”
“Shut up, Alice,” Hoffman said quietly. ”Stop behaving like an ass.”
Cronberry glared at them all, then sat down and lit a cigarette.
The way she fumbled at the lighter and clenched the cigarette between tight fingers made Lanier queasy. We’re way out of our depth here, he thought. Children playing with real guns, real bullets.
“The President called yesterday,” Hoffman said. ”He’s very angry about the libraries. He wants them closed and all research halted. He says we’ve let things get out of control, and I can’t really disagree with him. Garry is no more to blame than any of us. At any rate, the President is going to order the Stone Congressional Oversight Committee to put all research on hold until further notice. The Russians are going to get what they want.”
“How long do we have?” Lanier asked.
“Until the order goes through channels? A week, probably.”‘ Lanier grinned and shook his head.
“What’s there to be amused about?” Cronberry asked coldly, wrapped in a loose shell of smoke.
“The records say we have two weeks before the war.”
Hoffman invited Lanier to her office for drinks that evening.
He arrived at seven, after a quick dinner in the JPL cafeteria, and again checked his agents at the door. Hoffman’s JPL office was as spare and utilitarian as the one in her home in New York, the major difference being more shelves of memory blocks.
“We tried,” she said, handing him a Scotch neat. ”Well.”
She toasted him with a raised Dubonnet on the rocks.
“We did,” he said.
“You look tired.”
“Weight of the world on your shoulders,” she said, looking at him cautiously.
“Weight of a couple of universes,” he said. ”I’m discovering how tough a bastard I am, Judith.”
“Me too. I talked to the President again this afternoon.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I’m afraid I called him an idiot. I’ll very likely be fired or forced to resign by the time you’re in orbit.”
“Good for you,” Lanier said.
“Sit. Talk to me. Tell me what it’s like. I want to get up there so badly...” She pulled out chairs and they sat across from each other.
.”Why?” Lanier asked. ”You’ve seen the blocks, all the information.”
“That’s a stupid question.”
“It is,” Lanier admitted. They were both getting slightly tipsy before the alcohol could possible have had time to take effect. Lanier had noticed the condition before, in times of stress.
“Goddamn, I sure understand what the Russians are worried about,” Hoffman said after a moment’s silence. ”For the last ten years we’ve been beating the pants off of them in every area diplomatically, technologically. In space and on Earth. Hares to their tortoise. They’re dinosaurs and they hate anything faster and more adaptable. Why, young Ivan doesn’t know a computer terminal from a tractor wheel. Even the Chinese are beating them.”
“The Chinese might be ahead of us in a generation or two.”
“Good. Serve us right.” Hoffman said. ”Now the Stone comes down, and we intercept it, claim it, let them have little useless nibbles of it in the interests of international cooperation ... And whatever’s on the Stone, it might just as well be a tombstone for the Eastern bloc. We’ll be in control of unimaginable technology. Jesus. I wish we could sit down with them and reason. But they’re too scared, and our President is too damned stupid.”
“I don’t think stupid is the right word. Shell-shocked.”
“He knew a little about the Stone when he ran for office.”
“He knew it was coming,” Lanier said. ”None of us knew much more than that.”
“Well, fuck him if he can’t take a joke,” Hoffman said, staring at the shutters on the window. ”When you were a pilot, way back when,” she continued, “you crashed once. Where did you want to be before your plane went down?”
“At the controls,” Lanier said without hesitation. ”I wanted to save the plane so badly I couldn’t even think about punching out. I thought it—the plane—was absolutely beautiful, and I wanted to save it. I also wanted to keep it from killing other people. So we both landed in a lake.”
“I’m not nearly so brave,” Hoffma
n said. ”I think the Earth is beautiful, and I want to save it. I’ve been working my buns off to do so. Now all I get is shit. Your airplane didn’t thumb its nose at you. It didn’t call you on the carpet for your best work, did it?”
Lanier shook his head.
“That’s what’s happening here. So now I’m saying to myself, ‘The hell with ‘em.’ I want to be up on the Stone when it happens.”
“If everything goes to hell on Earth, we’re not going to get down from the Stone for years. Not even the lunar settlement will be able to help us.”
“Earth will survive?”
“Barely,” Lanier said. ”A year of sub-zero temperatures throughout the northern hemisphere, plagues and starvation, revolutions. If the libraries reflect our reality, maybe three or four billion people will die overall.”
“But it isn’t the end of the world.”
“No. It may not even happen.”
“Do you believe that?”
Lanier kept his silence for a long moment. Hoffman waited, hardly blinking. ”No. Not now. Perhaps if the Stone had never arrived.”
Hoffman put down her drink and ran her fingers around the rim of the glass. ”Well. I’m going to try to get up there. Don’t ask how. If I make it, I’ll see you on the Stone. If I don’t... You’ve been good to work with. I’d enjoy working with you more.” She reached out and drew him to her, kissing him on the forehead. ”Thank you.”
A half hour later, after they had drained three drinks apiece, she escorted him to the door. She took a folded piece of paper and pressed it into his hand.
“Now take this and use it however you will. You can give it to Gerhardt if you want, or you can destroy it. It’s probably not that important now.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“The name of the Russian operative on the Stone.”
Lanier’s hand tightened on the paper, but he did not unfold it.
“The President is moving quicker than I thought he would,” Hoffman said. ”Sometime tomorrow, you’re going to be ordered to close the libraries. He wants to convince the Soviets we’re on the up-and-up.”
