“Could Andrea Luhman’s disappearance have been prevented? Yes and no. You could have prevented it, if you had ordered the ship to change course three weeks ago, because what happened to Andrea Luhman was at that point only a potential event, existing in your future. I could not have stopped it no matter what I did, because her disappearance was an event that occurred in my past. And of course there is a catch-22 here, in that the only reason I might have tried to prevent Andrea Luhman’s disappearance was that I knew what had happened to her, and I could not know about her disappearance if it hadn’t happened in my past.”
“But if I had prevented Andrea Luhman’s disappearance,” Huiskamp said, “then it would not have happened in your past either.”
“Right. You would have retroactively created a past for me in which Andrea Luhman never disappeared, and we would not be having this conversation.”
“That seems highly unlikely, as much as I would prefer not to be having this conversation.”
“Not only unlikely, but impossible, because the disappearance of Andrea Luhman is now part of your past as well, and the past cannot be changed. Therefore this conversation is inescapable.”
“To be clear, you are telling me that when Andrea Luhman disappeared somewhere between the Fomalhaut gate and the Sol gate, she was in fact transported backwards in time?”
“That is what we believe happened, yes. We think she emerged in the Sol system sometime in the late ninth century. Our best estimate is 883 A.D. A lander craft departed from Andrea Luhman with four crew members on board. These were Carolyn Reyes, Daniel O’Brien, Thea Slater and Gabriel Zuehlsdorf.”
Chapter Ten
The abrupt transition from the theoretical to the quite real and very specific was jarring. “How do you know those names?” Huiskamp demanded. “How do you know any of this?”
“That is a complicated question. We have various sources of information. Much of what we know comes from artifacts recovered by Project Firefly. Our founder, Astrid van de Lucht, filled in a lot of the details later. We have sources of information within the IDL too, of course, but those serve primarily to confirm information we already possessed.”
Once again Huiskamp considered ordering a raid on the Jörmungandr Foundation’s headquarters. Prince’s admission of the existence of double agents inside the IDL was all the justification he needed. Perhaps Prince would be more forthcoming under enhanced interrogation.
And yet—what more did he expect her to offer? What explanation for the mysterious space helmet was he looking for? That it was a fake? For what purpose? He knew little about Jörmungandr, but he knew it was a powerful organization that had been around for a long time. Prince knew that contacting him and making such admissions put the entire organization at risk. Huiskamp could have Jörmungandr outlawed for aiding the enemy and have its leaders tried for sedition. Why would Prince take such a risk?
In any case, if this were all some elaborate prank, interrogating Prince would be a waste of time. Either Prince was a crackpot or she was in possession of the biggest secret in history. His willingness to talk to her at all was a tacit admission that the latter was at least a possibility.
“If this had happened,” he said, struggling to remain patient, “If those people had landed on Earth in the ninth century, they would have changed history.”
“Yes,” Prince replied. “And in fact, they did. Of course, this ‘changed’ version of history is the only history that actually exists. Events turned out the way they did in part because of the appearance of four spacemen on Earth in 883 A.D.”
“You’re saying that these spacemen had a hand in historical events that occurred in the ninth century.”
“That’s correct. We believe, for example, that Paris was able to withstand a siege by some twenty-thousand Vikings in 885 A.D. in part because of assistance provided by these spacemen.”
The idea was too absurd to take seriously. Huiskamp pressed on. “What about the so-called butterfly effect? A butterfly flaps its wings, causing unpredictable changes across the world and reverberating down through the centuries.”
“Such changes do indeed happen, and they did happen. The universe is different in an infinity of tiny ways because of the arrival of those four spacemen. But different from what? A universe in which Andrea Luhman did not travel backwards in time? Such a place does not exist. Andrea Luhman did travel backwards in time, and the butterfly did flap its wings. It’s pointless to speculate what might have happened if those events didn’t occur, because they did occur.”
“So, four people travel backwards in time and interfere with history, but history just happens to turn out the way it always did?”
“There is no ‘interfering with history.’ There is the sum total of events leading to the existence of the modern historical record. Columbus did not ‘interfere with history’ by traveling to the Indies. Gavrilo Princip did not ‘interfere with history’ by assassinating the Archduke of Austria. They affected the course of history, but they did not interfere with it. Interference implies action from outside of the system being imposed on the system. You think of Andrea Luhman’s sudden appearance in the Sol system in 883 A.D. as an intrusion upon the system, but that is a result of your own bias, based on ignorance. Because you do not understand how such a thing is possible, you classify it as supernatural or extra-systemic. And then, because you have introduced a supernatural element, you do not understand how things turned out as they always did. Do you understand why Vesuvius erupted in 79 A.D. rather than a hundred years later? No. But you do not ask ‘how is it possible that history turned out exactly as it did even though Vesuvius erupted in exactly 79 A.D.?’ The question itself is nonsensical. But it is the same question. There is nothing supernatural acting upon history. There is only a chain of events, some of which you understand and some of which you do not.
“I might add, by the way, that what we actually understand about the process of cause and effect is very little. If I hit the eight ball with the cue ball at a certain angle, the eight ball goes into the corner pocket. Why does it do this? ‘Newton’s third law of motion.’ But what does that mean? It means simply that every time we’ve seen a billiard ball struck in that particular way, it responds in a particular way. This is not an explanation, but merely a description of past events. Why did Andrea Luhman disappear from 2227 A.D. and reappear in 883 A.D.? I shall posit an answer, which I will call Prince’s Law. Prince’s Law states that a spaceship traveling at high velocity through a hyperspace gate in a certain state will travel backwards in time. Have I explained anything, or have I simply given a name to an observable event?”
“Newton’s third law is reproduceable. Prince’s Law refers only to a single event.”
“Does a phenomenon become more comprehensible through repetition? It becomes more predictable, yes, but do you understand it any better? We may reduce the phenomenon to more basic laws, but laws are simply descriptions, not explanations. What we call ‘physical laws’ are in fact placeholders for actual explanations.”
“I’m still not convinced this isn’t a lot of rhetorical slight-of-hand,” Huiskamp said, “but let’s table the issue for the moment. What does any of this have to do with me? You said that the time for us working independently is over. Fine. Let’s work together. What do you have to offer me?”
“I wish I could give you a definite answer,” Prince said. “But as I said, we’re in uncharted territory. The disappearance of Andrea Luhman marked the moment your future is no longer my past. I don’t know what happens next any more than you do.”
“Then this is a waste of time.”
“Not at all. To say that I have no foreknowledge is not to say that I have no knowledge to offer. In fact, I have a great deal of information that may prove of use.”
“Like what?”
“Admiral, think about the ramifications of what I have told you. It is possible to travel backwards in time! Do you not think you could make use of such information?”
“Do you know what caused Andrea Luhman to travel backwards in time?”
“Not precisely. We know it has to do with the hyperspace gates. We suspect the phenomenon was caused by some combination of a gate malfunction and Andrea Luhman’s extremely high velocity at the time she went through the gate. My understanding is that the Sol gate is not responding to telemetry requests, suggesting that it is still in whatever unusual state caused the phenomenon. If a probe could be sent through another gate, with the Sol gate as the destination, it may be possible to replicate the phenomenon.”
“You’re just guessing.”
“Well, yes. I certainly wouldn’t recommend executing the experiment with a manned ship at this point. But a probe—”
“If a probe had been sent back in time, wouldn’t we know about it?”
“I’m not following, Admiral.”
“If I decide to execute this ‘experiment,’ as you call it, then the probe must have already appeared in the past. Where is it?”
“Ah, I understand. I would recommend programming the probe to go dark in deep orbit around Sol until it receives a predetermined radio signal. Do not send the signal until after you send it through the gate. That way, you avoid a paradox where you receive a response from a probe that you decide not to send.”
“You’re joking.”
“I am not, Admiral. Our research indicates that temporal paradoxes are impossible. If you try to bring about a paradox, by—for example—locating a probe that was sent into the past and then deciding not to send that probe into the past, you will fail—perhaps catastrophically. The best case scenario is probably that the probe will simply malfunction and fail to respond. The worst is that you will annihilate your current timeline.”
“You mean rewrite the past. Something you said was impossible.”
“No. You cannot rewrite the past. There may be other timelines where you recovered a probe and then sent that probe into the past to be recovered, but the existence of such timelines is purely theoretical. All we know for certain is that there is no timeline where you both did and did not send a probe back. If you try to create such a circumstance, you will fail. One possibility is that such attempts create dead-end timelines, where cause-and-effect simply stops.”
“The more of this I listen to, the more it all sounds like bullshit.”
“Perhaps. But the paradox limitation is very real in practice. It is why we did not attempt to contact you before Andrea Luhman disappeared. Doing so would have been extremely dangerous.”
“I’m beginning to lose patience, Ms. Prince. Humanity is on the verge of being extinguished by the Cho-ta’an. My mission is to prevent that. You’ve given me nothing that will be of any help in that mission.”
“Admiral, the information I have given you could be the key to unlocking the secret of the jumpgates. Not only that, but it could give us priceless insight into the nature of spacetime itself.”
“That’s all well and good, Ms. Prince, but I don’t have time to pursue abstract scientific theories. If I had a probe to spare, which I do not, it would take weeks to accelerate to anywhere the speed Andrea Luhman was traveling when it disappeared. Sending it toward a jumpgate at that velocity would be like firing a bullet through a keyhole from a hundred klicks away. More than likely, both the probe and the gate would be destroyed. And if by some miracle the probe survives the trip through the gate and travels back in time, it still does me no good whatsoever.”
“So it may seem, Admiral. However, you are underestimating the strategic value of time travel. In fact, the Jörmungandr Foundation possesses some evidence that the IDL may have done just what you are describing.”
“The IDL sent a probe through a jumpgate and backwards in time?”
“Not a probe. A ship. We believe that sometime after Andrea Luhman disappeared, another ship—”
“Hold on. When you say that the IDL sent another ship back in time, what you mean is that the IDL will send another ship back in time.”
“From your perspective, yes.”
“You’re contradicting yourself. Earlier you said that it was safe to contact me now because events that were in my future are now in my past, so there is no longer any danger of creating a temporal paradox. Now you’re saying that you have knowledge of events in my future. If you tell me about such events, aren’t you at risk of causing a paradox?”
“A calculated risk, warranted by the existential threat posed by the Cho-ta’an. Understand that I have no definite knowledge of your future. I know only that there is significant evidence that a second ship will at some point be sent back in time.”
“And when does this one appear? During the French Revolution? The Pleistocene Era?”
“Our best estimate is 134 A.D.”
Huiskamp, unable to contain himself any longer, burst out laughing. “You’re telling me that a week after sending a ship to the Viking Age, I’m going to send another one to the time of the Roman Empire?”
“We have no archaeological evidence or first-hand documentation of this, as we do with the Andrea Luhman incident. However, cultural similarities between—”
“Ms. Prince, I must congratulate you on… well, whatever it is that you’re doing here. I can only assume it’s some kind of incredibly misguided disinformation campaign intended to cause me to waste IDL resources on a wild goose chase. Fortunately for you, I don’t have time to see that you and your people get what is coming to you. Of course, it makes little difference at this point; Geneva is soon going to be under the control of the Cho-ta’an, and if you think they are going to spare you because of this little stunt, you are sadly mistaken. Enjoy what little time you have left, Ms. Prince. Do not attempt to contact me again. Good day.”
Huiskamp breathed deeply several times, closing his eyes to avoid seeing the bleached polycarbonate helmet. When he opened them, it was still there. He sighed. Not knowing what else to do with it, he carried it back to his quarters. It was too large to fit in any of his storage cabinets, so he was forced to strap it into zero gee netting where it hung in plain sight. “I should space you,” he muttered to the thing, but he didn’t.
Chapter Eleven
Twenty hours after speaking with Christina Prince, Admiral Huiskamp watched from the command deck as the Cho-ta’an ships began to drop into a high orbit around Geneva. The enemy ships approached the planet as a single group, traveling in a rough wedge formation at about eight kilometers per second relative to Geneva’s surface. It was impossible to know how many of the ships had Cho-ta’an aboard, but Huiskamp suspected that only the four interceptors remaining from the original group were unmanned. Like human beings, the Cho-ta’an seemed to dislike entrusting their expensive military hardware to artificial intelligence. In one way, this was a good thing: crewed ships would be easier to outrun, because Cho-ta’an physiology didn’t handle excessive acceleration well.
Commander Lee anticipated the Cho-ta’an orbit based on their incoming velocity, and Huiskamp had his ships maneuver to a lower orbit, almost skimming Geneva’s ionosphere. This was tactically advantageous: the IDL ships could clearly see the Cho-ta’an ships against the dark canopy of space, while the IDL ships blended in with the irregular white-blue surface of Geneva. A lower orbit implied a greater velocity, allowing the IDL ships several passes at the Cho-ta’an before the latter broke orbit. Aiming from below also meant the IDL ships could fire freely at the Cho-ta’an without fear of hitting targets on the ground. The surface was at risk from strikes by Cho-ta’an missiles, of course, but Huiskamp expected the enemy to use missiles sparingly, saving them for the seedships. The Cho-ta’an didn’t need to take out all the IDL ships; they just needed to escape Geneva’s gravity well and catch up to the seedships. Unless the IDL could put a big dent in their numbers, the seedships wouldn’t stand a chance against the faster and more heavily armed Cho-ta’an warships.
GODCOM itself was in a medium orbit over Geneva’s equator, roughly halfway between the attackers and the defenders. GOD
COM would certainly be a tempting target, but it also possessed formidable defenses. Huiskamp thought the Cho-ta’an would be unlikely to spend their ammo on it. Nor was GODCOM likely to get caught in the crossfire, as the odds of it getting sandwiched between the IDL ships and the Cho-ta’an were negligible. GODCOM’s role would be to provide intelligence and coordination, and to deal with any damaged ships or wounded personnel after the battle. With cameras and radar on the various satellites in orbit around Geneva, as well as on GODCOM and the IDL ships, Huiskamp had a comprehensive view of the battlespace.
Thus, although GODCOM was almost two thousand kilometers from the Cho-ta’an wedge as it entered orbit, Huiskamp had a perfect view of the ships from a satellite sixty kilometers below them. An algorithm-generated view showed the IDL ships creeping up from behind. Huiskamp had given a general order to fire at will as soon as the enemy was in range, and the IDL ships began their attack, first with missiles, and then with railguns. GODCOM was too far away to use its railguns, but it added its own volley of missiles to the assault. The vibrations of the launching rockets could be felt through the floor of the command deck. Minute glimmers, like over-bright stars, appeared momentarily on the horizon as missiles detonated against Cho-ta’an countermeasures. Farther up, defense satellites began to fire as well. The soundless explosions grew slowly brighter and more numerous as more ships came into range. The Cho-ta’an, apparently saving their ammunition for the seedships, did not return fire. The great black ships slipped around the curve of the planet, one of the destroyers so close that Huiskamp could see it with his naked eye. It was a chaotic and not very effective attack, but a destroyer and three interceptors were torn apart within the first few minutes of fighting. As he’d hoped, the Cho-ta’an were only employing railguns, to minimal effect so far. A few IDL ships had been struck, but none had been seriously damaged. The fast-moving wedge began to slip out of the effective range of the IDL ships.
The Legacy of the Iron Dragon: An Alternate History Viking Epic Page 8
