Beyond the Event Horizon - Episode Four

by Albert Sartison

  The Speaker announced the day’s agenda in the customary manner, gave a brief reminder of the main issues associated with the project, and invited Shelby to mount the lectern.

  There was a deathly hush in the hall, broken only by the sound of Shelby’s footsteps as he unhurriedly approached the platform.

  Under the rules, Shelby was allowed ten minutes to present the results of the study put together by the scientific group he headed. He managed it in eight. The Speaker, who had been listening attentively and was obviously surprised by this unusually short presentation to Parliament, switched on his microphone.

  “Thank you for your report, Professor Shelby. Although I understood the contents of your speech, under the rules I am obliged to ask you again: does your working group consider that the construction of the sphere and the subsequent terraforming of Mars, Venus and Mercury represent no danger to our civilisation and can be looked on as a beneficial project?”

  Shelby nodded.

  “Indeed it does. We assess the risks as moderate and controllable and the benefit as unconditional, from the point of view of astrophysics as a whole and celestial mechanics in particular.”

  “Good. Professor, the way you use the term ‘conservatism’, a doctrine to which I am fully devoted and, I may say, am proud to be so, it sounds almost like an insult. Give me one good reason why we should forever be chasing after endless progress, conquering other worlds, moving on to the stars... We have not yet assimilated our own Solar System. Why should we try to get ahead of ourselves? Why do you look on expansion to the stars as an end in itself?”

  “Mr. Speaker, please note that my group’s task was not to assess the risks as a whole, but only some of them. The question you raise is rather beyond the scope of our study.”

  “I understand, but it seems to me that you know more about this subject than anyone else in this hall. Therefore I should like to know your opinion, if you would be so kind.”

  “Well then... May I ask why you think that I consider expansion to be an end in itself?”

  “You spoke about it with such enthusiasm...”

  “You asked me to give you one good reason; I can offer you several to choose from. Sooner or later, we, the human race, will have to leave our cradle, the planet Earth, and move somewhere else. This will not be just a whim, it will not be exhaustion of resources, it will not be the ecology, but the fact that the Earth’s surface will become uninhabitable for protein-based life in no more than five hundred to seven hundred million years at most.

  “It is a matter of solar radiation. To put it simply, our Sun will begin to shine more brightly. The energy it radiates will increase so much that our planet will be thoroughly burned up and will become a lifeless desert. Something like present-day Venus, where the average temperature is more than 400 degrees Celsius. The oceans will evaporate and life will become impossible, even for bacteria.”

  “Seven hundred million years? Professor, you are joking, aren’t you? Who is interested in what will happen seven hundred million years from now?”

  “That is the theoretical period. The Sun could very well start increasing its radiation earlier than that, but that is not the main problem. The main problem is that technology as yet unknown to us is needed for leaving the Solar System, and we do not know how long it will take us to create it.”

  “Professor, we will have millions of years, so what are you worrying about? It will be more than enough time to work out any technology!”

  “That is a questionable assertion.”

  The Speaker assumed an exaggerated expression of astonishment.

  “You must know something I don’t, professor. I remember the technology of my grandfather’s generation and permit me to say that, in comparison, he would have regarded the technology that surrounds us in our everyday life today as something bordering on the magical. And that’s over a short period of two hundred years. I can’t even imagine what is possible over millions of years.”

  “You are right. Technical progress is undoubtedly taking seven-league strides, and it looks as if this rate is accelerating. But we cannot rely on any technology we need being available to us in the future.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t follow you, professor.”

  “I admit the possibility that the human race could create any technology which does not contradict the laws of nature, but only on condition that there is no limit on time or other critical resources.”

  “Are you seriously suggesting that we shall not have enough time? Half a billion years? As far as I know, the aliens’ civilisation is something like one million years old. If they are able to create something of the sort, why can’t we?”

  “I would be reluctant to draw such parallels. We do not know if the aliens worked out their technologies themselves, or if they obtained the necessary knowledge from other, more developed civilisations.”

  “But someone must have been first! OK, so maybe it wasn’t our guests, but their mentors, patrons, call them what you like, it doesn’t change anything. If they could, so can others.”

  “The initial conditions of the pioneer civilisation at the interstellar travel level of technology might differ greatly from ours. They might have had more time than we shall have. Their star system might provide more primary living space than ours...”

  “What do you mean by primary living space?”

  “Living space within the limits of the home star system not requiring terraforming technology that is easy to reach, and to which considerable human resources can be transferred using first-generation spacecraft. In the Solar System, such living space is limited to the planet Earth. But in other systems, there might be several such planets, and they may be considerably greater in size.”

  “But why does that play a part?”

  “Living space sets limits to the size of the population. And apart from labour productivity, the bigger the population, the greater the potential for science and technology. As far as I know, we have not paid much attention to this question up to now, but it is clear that the creation of certain technologies requires a certain minimum population level.”

  “Are you not underestimating the capabilities of the human race?”

  “It is not a matter of estimates, but of the objective conditions of the framework. Let me explain by way of an example. If you go back not very far in the history of the human race and look at the feudal society that existed in the first thousand years of our era and the average size of a settlement at that time, which was the size of a small village, then it is obvious that such a society’s potential for science and technology was limited. One man could feed, let’s say, his own family and be left with a small quantity of surplus produce which he could sell at the market.

  “Surplus produce in this context means the produce left over after satisfying his own needs, and it is the cornerstone of progress. The fact of its existence meant that certain individuals in this society could use their time and energy on solving other problems, such as scientific ones, instead of on the individual acquisition of food through agriculture or hunting.

  “By this means, society began to specialise: peasants in producing food, and scientists, in this case, in studying nature. And although the scientists of a mediaeval village did not differ in intellectual potential from the present-day scientist at a university, it is obvious that a thermonuclear reactor could never have been developed in the countryside. This was prevented, firstly, by the inadequate labour productivity of the Middle Ages and, secondly, by the small size of the population, which, when taken together, could not have provided an economy of the required size.

  “Similar processes are taking place in our own present and future society. At least, we can assume that there is no fundamental difference in this respect from a mediaeval village. The higher the productivity of our economy and the greater our population, the more resources we can apply to scientific activities.

  “And finally, we must not forget that technologies vary in the amount of
science and expenditure they require. It is quite possible that to master interstellar travel would require, let’s say, not less than 100 billion people. That is if you take the labour productivity level of our economy.

  “So for this reason, we cannot be confident that we will be technologically capable of carrying out a resettlement to another star system by the time the period of our Sun’s stable existence runs out. The conclusion must be that we should grasp at any opportunity for access to such technologies. It is very dangerous to rely on our own strength. We may not have time, or may simply not be able, to create them ourselves.”

  The Speaker, having listened to Shelby with attention, nodded.

  “As little as a year ago, when we did not yet know of the existence of the aliens, such questions were not even on the agenda, but now you consider them of vital importance.”

  “I agree, but that does not mean that there is no point in this question. At the beginning of the 20th century, it would never have entered our heads that asteroids and comets could pose a threat to our civilisation. The Tunguska event of 1908 opened our eyes and we should be grateful that, by pure luck, the lesson was so entirely painless for us. If the Tunguska meteorite had been just a few hours later, and its surface need only have been a little lighter for this to have been the case, then the Earth would have turned on, and the explosion would have occurred not in the uninhabited taiga, but in the centre of Europe. I think everyone here can appreciate what the consequences would have been.”

  “All right, I understand your argument. You said that there are also other reasons.”

  “Yes. The explosion of a supernova. We may know the condition of our own Sun more or less reliably, but the Sun is the star most thoroughly studied by mankind. The prediction of supernova explosions involves a certain amount of uncertainty.

  “We are monitoring supernova-candidate stars, and we know of quite a number of them which, according to our forecasts, could turn into supernovas within the next half a billion years. They include several, the explosion of which could cause serious damage to the human race living in the Solar System.

  “And I must stress that supernovas are truly cosmic bombs of incredible power, whose active damage radius in the most dangerous cases could extend to hundreds of light years. This means, Mr. Speaker, that even if we had the technology to resettle in nearby star systems, it would still not save us, because we would have to go much farther to escape their impact.”

  “I have heard of this sort of danger, but I cannot recall that we have ever discussed the matter in Parliament. If supernovas are so dangerous, why have we not as yet financed a counteraction programme?”

  “For one simple reason. The explosion of a supernova close enough to endanger us in this way would be certain death for us. We are talking about a cosmic cataclysm on such a scale that we would be absolutely defenceless in the face of it. There is no way we could counteract it even in the long term. Our technology level will remain inadequate in this respect for at least thousands, if not tens of thousands of years to come. That is if we do not take into account the possible transfer of technology from the aliens.”

  “Let us move on to questions of a technical nature. The proposed project involves moving three planets out of their initial orbits. Can you guarantee that such a severe disturbance of the Solar System’s dynamics will not represent a danger to us?”

  “We can. Calculations show that the planetary system will be stable in its new configuration for the next 1500 years.”

  “And after that?”

  “Our ability to calculate the orbits of planets is limited, because we only have finite knowledge of the position of celestial bodies. Furthermore, the combination of planets represents a nonlinear system. In other words, even a tiny error in the initial conditions can cause a very large error in the calculation. Therefore we can only predict the stability of the Solar System for the next 1500 years.”

  “What if something disturbs it after, say, five thousand years? Not much of a legacy for our children, is it?”

  “As I already said, an imbalance threatening the Solar System will be known to us 1500 years in advance. Furthermore, in time our forecasting capability will improve, so in the future we will be able to make such predictions further in advance. But if problems in our Solar System do appear in the future, then we will be able to compensate for them using the remote manipulation technology that we have already discovered and tested – in other words, without help from the aliens.”

  5

  In spite of his political weight, in parliamentary debates the president was just a passive listener, apart from permission to give a concluding speech after the specialists had finished their statements. So he sat silently in his seat until his turn came, keenly observing what was going on in the hall.

  During Shelby’s speech, the mood in the hall gradually started moving the way the president wanted. This amusing elderly astronomer knew how to bring his audience round to his point of view. His answers were precise, well grounded and excellently formulated, eloquently confirming his wide knowledge in the field of astronomy, and the fact that he himself was inclined towards a positive assessment of the futuristic project. Most of the deputies had little knowledge of astronomy and could only form well-founded opinions on issues relating to space with difficulty, so rather than making their assessment on what Shelby said, they were making it on the way he said it. And he did that splendidly.

  The speech by the head of the engineers’ group which followed only strengthened the positive mood. In a few words, he described the situation regarding the super-strong frames being used for modern floating cities, and said something about the latest research in this field. He also spoke confidently, cleverly interweaving technical terms with analogies comprehensible to non-specialists. The best proof of his competence was Island City, the oldest and also the largest floating super-city on Earth, where he was responsible for the stability of the bearing structure, which was the benchmark and chef d’œuvre of contemporary engineering thought on super-heavy structures.

  But General MacQueen, the last expert to speak, only had to say a few sentences before the positive mood in the hall began to evaporate. The president knew that MacQueen was a top professional in his field, but at that moment, he frankly hated him for his speech. The president was starting to take any attacks on the project personally.

  The general’s words, giving his assessment in a dispassionate and therefore particularly ominous voice about the forthcoming risks, were in stark contrast to the positive feeling left after the statements by Shelby and the head of the floating city’s engineering group. The atmosphere in the hall became full of fear as the majority of the deputies, who had only recently learned of the forthcoming project, so had not had time to comprehend the full significance of the possible consequences, realised that it was not just a question of building some sort of ordinary power station, even if it was a particularly large one. No, today’s decision would determine the entire future of mankind, virtually until the Sun ceased to exist in its present form.

  “So you are against building the sphere?” asked the Speaker when MacQueen had finished his report.

  “The sphere as such does not worry me, but the terraforming of the planets does. And since the two things are offered only as a complete package, I strongly advise rejecting this project.”

  “Do you fully understand the economic benefit we would be giving up if we took your advice?”

  “No, but that is not important. It is enough for me to realise that we are risking the essential for the sake of the superfluous. Mr. Speaker, I have expressed my point of view and have nothing more to add.”

  The president looked slowly around the hall. The deputies were unusually quiet as they observed the discussion. Apparently the question of security was too serious for them to dare to contradict a professional, an officer with experience of combat. This was not one of those annual budget debates, during which the deputies were in the habit of
trying to grab more than their fair share. Here, if the risks were not properly assessed, they would all have to carry the can, regardless of their position.

  “General, thank you very much for your comprehensive analysis.”

  The president’s advisor leaned towards his boss, who was sitting next to him.

  “It’s not looking good,” he said as quietly as possible, covering his mouth with his hand so that no-one could lip-read what he was saying.

  “Keep calm, the decision hasn’t been taken yet,” replied the president.

  Finally it was his turn to give the concluding speech before Parliament took its decision. He stood up unhurriedly and, with hundreds of pairs of eyes following him, went up onto the platform at a measured pace. After taking his place at the lectern and sipping some water, he took his tablet out of his pocket and started to manipulate the screen, apparently searching for the beginning of his speech. The deputies watched him in silence.

  On the huge screen in the centre of the hall, the president’s eyes could be seen moving from side to side as he read through his speech, then his face took on a thoughtful expression with a hint of disappointment in it. He was clearly hesitating. It appeared that the speech he had prepared was not very appropriate to the situation. Eventually he put his tablet aside.

  “Esteemed ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Speaker,” he began, apparently having decided not to read the prepared text, but to address the deputies off the cuff. “I first learned of the alien intelligence visiting the Solar System several months ago. We picked up the alien ship on radar at a great distance, far beyond the orbit of Pluto. This part of space is so far from us that we are not yet engaging in any economic activity there. Nevertheless, it was easy enough for our telescopes to detect such a small ship at such a huge distance.