evolved an advanced civilization, unlike their contemporary
brothers on Earth, who remained backward. Eventually, compelled by
the Ice Age threat of extinction, the two superpowers of Cerios and
Lambia had emerged and begun the race toward the Sun in the way
described by Linguistics. Where Linguistics had gone wrong,
however, was that by the time of Charlie's narrative, these events
were already historical; the goal was already achieved. The
Lambians had drawn ahead by a small margin and had already
commenced building settlements on Earth, several of them named
after their own towns on Minerva. The Cerians followed hard on
their heels and established a fire base on Luna, the objective of
course being to knock out the Lambian outposts on Earth before
moving in themselves.
This theory did not explain the flight time of Charlie's ship, but
its supporters attributed the difficulty to unknown differences
between Minervan and local (Lunar) dating systems. On the other
hand, it required only a few pilot Lambian bases to have been set
up on Earth by the time of the war; thus, whatever remained of
these after the Cerian assault, could credibly have vanished in
fifty thousand years.
And as the battle lines were drawn up and the first ranging shots
started whistling up and down the corridors of Navcomms, in
no-man's-land sat Hunt. Somehow, he was convinced, everybody was
right. He knew the competence of the people around him and had no
doubt in their ability to get their figures right. If, after weeks
or months of patient effort, one of them pronounced that x was 2,
then he was quite prepared to believe that, in all probability, it
would turn out to be. Therefore, the paradox had to be an illusion.
To try to argue which side was right and which was wrong was
missing the whole point. Somewhere in the maze, probably so
fundamental that nobody had even thought to question it, there had
to be a fallacy-some wrong assumption that seemed so obvious they
didn't even realize they were making it. If they could just get
back to fundamentals and identify that single fallacy, the paradox
would vanish and everything that was being argued would slide
smoothly into a consistent, unified whole.
chapter eighteen
"You want me to go to Jupiter?" Hunt repeated slowly, making sure
he had heard correctly.
Caidwell stared back over his desk impassively. "The Jupiter Five
Mission will depart from Luna in six weeks time," he stated.
"Danchekker has gone about as far as he can go with Charlie. What
details are left to be found out can be taken care of by his staff
at Westwood. He's got better things he'd like to be doing on
Ganymede. There's a whole collection of alien skeletons there, plus
a shipload of zoology from way back that nobody's ever seen the
like of before. It's got him excited. He wants to get his hands on
them. Jupiter Five is going right there, so he's getting together a
biological team to go with it."
Hunt already knew all this. Nevertheless, he went through the
motions of digesting the information and checking through it for
any point he might have missed. After an appropriate pause he
replied:
"That's fine-I can see his angle. But what does it have to do with
me?"
Caidwell frowned and drummed his fingers, as if he had been
expecting this question to come, while hoping it wouldn't.
"Consider this an extension of your assignment," he said at last.
"From all the arguing that's going on around this place, nobody
seems to be able to agree just how the Ganymeans fit into the
Charlie business. Maybe they're a big part of the answer, maybe
they're not. Nobody knows for sure."
"True." Hunt nodded.
Caidwell took this as all the confirmation he needed. "Okay," he
said with a gesture of finality. "You've done a good job so far on
the Charlie side of the picture; maybe it's time to balance things
up a bit and give you a crack at the other side, too. Well"- he
shrugged-"the information's not here-it's on Ganymede. In six weeks
time, J Five shoves off for Ganymede. It makes sense to me that you
go with it."
Hunt's brow remained creased in an expression that indicated he
still didn't quite see everything. He posed the obvious question.
"What about the job here?"
"What about it? Basically you correlate information that comes from
dilTerent places. The information will still keep coming from the
places whether you're in Houston or on board Jupiter Five. Your
assistant is capable of stepping in and keeping the routine
background research and cross-checking running smoothly in Group L.
There's no reason why you can't continue to be kept updated on
what's going on if you're out there. Anyhow, a change of scene
never did anybody any harm. You've been on this job a year and a
half now."
"But we're talking about a break of years, maybe."
"Not necessarily. Jupiter Five is a later design than I Four; it
will make Ganymede in under six months. Also, a number of ships are
being ferried out with the Jupiter Five Mission to start build-.
ing up a fleet that will be based out there. Once a reserve's been
established, there will be regular two-way traffic with Earth. In
other words, once you've had enough of the place we'll have no
problem getting you back."
Hunt reflected that nothing ever seemed to stay normal for very
long when Caidwell was around. He felt no inclination to argue with
this new directive. On the contrary, the prospect excited him. But
there was something that didn't quite add up in the reasons
Caidwell was giving. Hunt had the same feeling he had experienced
on previous occasions that there was an ulterior motive lurking
beneath the surface somewhere. Still, that didn't really matter.
Caidwell seemed to have made up his mind, and Hunt knew from
experience that when Caidwell made up his mind that something would
be so, then by some uncanny power of preordination, so it would
inevitably turn out to be.
Caldwell waited for possible objections. Seeing that none were
forthcoming, he concluded: "When you joined us, I told you your
place in UNSA was out front. That statement implied a promise. I
always keep promises."
For the next two weeks Hunt worked frantically, reorganizing the
operation of Group L and making his own personal preparations for a
prolonged absence from Earth. After that, he was sent to Galveston
for two weeks.
By the third decade of the twenty-first century, commercial flight
reservations to Luna could be made through any reputable travel
agent, for seats either on regular UNSA ships or on chartered ships
crewed by UNSA officers. The standards of comfort provided on
passenger ifights were high, and accommodation at the larger Lunar
bases was secure, enabling Lunar travel to become a routine chore
in the lives of many businessmen and a memorable event for more
than a f
ew casual visitors, none of whom needed any specialized
knowledge or training. Indeed, one enterprising consortium,
comprised of a hotel chain, an international airline, a travel-tour
operator, and an engineering corporation, had commenced the
construction of a Lunar holiday resort, which was already fully
booked for the opening season.
Places like Jupiter, however, were not yet open to the public.
Persons detailed for assignments with the UNSA deep-space missions
needed to know what they were doing and how to act in emergency
situations. The ice sheets of Ganymede and the cauldron of Venus
were no places for tourists.
At Galveston, Hunt learned about UNSA spacesuits and the standard
items of ancillary equipment; he was taught the use of
communication equipment, survival kits, emergency life support
systems, and repair kits; he practiced test routines, radiolocation
procedures, and equipment-fault diagnostic techniques. "Your life
could depend on this little box," one instructor told the group.
"You could wind up in a situation where it fails and the only
person inside a hundred miles to fix it is you." Doctors lectured
on the rudiments of space medicine and recommended methods of
dealing with oxygen starvation, decompression, heat stroke, and
hypothermia. Physiologists described the effects on bone calcium of
long periods of reduced body weight, and showed how a correct
balance could be maintained by a specially selected diet and drugs.
UNSA officers gave useful hints that covered the whole gamut of
staying alive and sane in alien environments, from navigating afoot
on a hostile surface using satellite beacons as ref erence points,
to the art of washing one's face in zero gravity.
And so, just over four weeks after his directive from CaIdwell,
Hunt found himself fifty feet below ground level at pad twelve of
number-two terminal complex twenty miles outside Houston, walking
along one of the access ramps that connected the wall of the silo
to the gleaming hull of the Vega. An hour later, the hy
draulic ramps beneath the platform supporting the tail thrust the
ship slowly upward and out, to stand clear on the roof of the
structure. Within minutes the Vega was streaking into the darkening
void above. It docked thirty minutes later, two and a half seconds
behind schedule, with the half-mile-diameter transfer sateffite
Kepler.
On Kepler the passengers traveling on to Luna.-including Hunt,
three propulsion-systems experts keen to examine the suspected
Ganymean gravity drives, four communications specialists, two
structural engineers, and Danchekker's team, all destined to join
Jupiter Five-transferred to the ugly and ungainly Capella class
moonship that would carry them for the remainder of the journey
from Earth orbit to the Lunar surface. The voyage lasted thirty
hours and was uneventful. After they had been in Lunar orbit for
twenty minutes, the announcement came over the loudspeaker that the
craft had been cleared for descent.
Shortly afterward, the unending procession of plains, mountains,
crags, and hills that had been marching across the cabin display
screen slowed to a halt and the view started growing perceptibly
larger. Hunt recognized the twin ring-walled plains of Ptolemy and
Albategnius, with its central conical mountain and Crater Klein
interrupting its encircling wall, before the ship swung northward
and these details were lost off the top of the steadily enlarging
image. The picture stabilized, now centered upon the broken and
crumbling mountain wall that separated Ptolemy from the southern
edge of the Plain of Hipparchus. What had pre- viously looked like
smooth terrain resolved itself into a jumble of rugged cliffs and
valleys, and in the center, glints of sunlight began to appear,
reflected from the metal structures of the vast base below.
As the outlines of the surface installations materialized out of
the gray background and expanded to fill the screen, a yellow glow
in the center grew, gradually transforming into the gaping entrance
to one of the underground moonship berths. There was a brief
impression of tiers of access levels stretching down out of sight
and huge service gantries swung back to admit the ship. Rows of
brilliant arc lights flooded the scene before the exhaust from the
braking motors blotted out the view. A mild jolt signaled that the
landing legs had made contact with Lunar rock, and silence fell
abruptly inside the ship as the engines were cut. Above
the squat nose of the moonship, massive steel shutters rolled
together to seal out the stars. As the berth filled with air, a new
world of sound impinged on the ears of the ship's occupants.
Shortly afterward, the access ramps slid smoothly from the walls to
connect the ship to the reception bays.
Thirty minutes after clearing arrival formalities, Hunt emerged
from an elevator high atop one of the viewing domes that dominated
the surface of Ptolemy Main Base. For a long time he gazed soberly
at the harsh desolation in which man had carved this oasis of life.
The streaky blue and white disk of Earth, hanging motionless above
the horizon, suddenly brought home to him the remoteness of places
like Houston, Reading, Cambridge, and the meaning of everything
familiar, which until so recently he had taken for granted. In his
wanderings he had never come to regard any particular place as
home; unconsciously he had always accepted any part of the world to
be as much home as any other. Now, all at once, he realized that he
was away from home for the first time in his life.
As Hunt turned to take in more of the scene below, he saw that he
was not alone. On the far side of the dome a lean, balding figure
stood staring silently out over the wilderness, absorbed in
thoughts of its own. Hunt hesitated for a long time. At last he
moved slowly across to stand beside the figure. All around them the
mile-wide clutter of silver-gray metallic geometry that made up the
base sprawled amid a confusion of pipes, girders, pylons, and
antennae. On towers above, the radars swept the skyline in endless
circles, while the tall, praying-mantislike laser transceivers
stared unblinkingly at the heavens, carrying the ceaseless
dialogues between the base computers and unseen communications
satellites fifty miles up. In the distance beyond the base, the
rugged bastions of Ptolemy's mountain wall towered above the plain.
From the blackness above them, a surface transporter was sliding
toward the base on its landing approach.
Eventually Hunt said: "To think-a generation ago, all this was just
desert." It was more a thought voiced than a statement.
Danchekker did not answer for a long time. When he did, he kept his
eyes fixed outside.
"But man dared to dream . . ." he murmured slowly. After a pause he
added, "And what man dares to dream today, tomorrow he makes come
true."
Another long silence followed. Hunt took a cig
arette from his case
and lit it. "You know," he said at last, blowing a stream of smoke
slowly toward the glass wall of the dome, "it's going to be a long
voyage to Jupiter. We could get a drink down below-one for the
road, as it were."
Danchekker seemed to turn the suggestion over in his mind for a
while. At length he shifted his gaze back within the confines of
the dome and turned to face Hunt directly.
"I think not, Dr. Hunt," he said quietly.
Hunt sighed and made as if to turn.
"However, . . ." The tone of Danchekker's voice checked him before
he moved. He looked up. "If your metabolism is capable of
withstanding the unaccustomed shock of nonalcoholic beverages, a
strong coffee might, ah, perhaps be extremely welcome."
It was a joke. Danchekker had actually cracked a joke!
"I'll try anything once," Hunt said as they began walking toward
the door of the elevator.
chapter nineteen
Embarkation on the orbiting Jupiter Five command ship was not
scheduled to take place until a few days later. Danchekker would be
busy making final arrangements for his team and their equipment to
be ferried up from the Lunar surface. Hunt, not being involved in
these undertakings, prepared an itinerary of places to visit during
the free time he had available.
The first thing he did was fly to Tycho by surface transporter to
observe the excavations still going on around the areas of some of
the Lunarian finds, and to meet at last many of the people who up
until then had existed only as faces on display screens. He also
went to see the deep mining and boring operations in progress not
far from Tycho, where engineers were attempting to penetrate to the
core regions of the Moon. They believed that concentrations of rich
metal-bearing ores might be found there. If this turned out to be
so, within decades the Moon could become an enormous spaceship
factory, where parts prefabricated in processing and forming plants
on the surface would be ferried up for final assembly in Lunar
orbit. The economic advantages of constructing deep-space craft
here and from Lunar materials, without having to lift everything up
out of Earth's gravity pit to start with, promised to be enormous.
Next, Hunt visited the huge radio and optical observatories of
Giant Series 01 - Inherit the Stars Page 19
