"It looks as if Shilohin and the party from the lander might have arrived," Hunt said.
"I do believe you're right."
They realized that Laisha had come back over and was looking at Hunt. He raised his eyebrows inquiringly.
She spoke in an amalgam of pidgin Jevlenese-Lambian. "Can speak more? Sorry."
"It's okay."
"Cerians cannot believe ship is from future. Too many… what makes no sense with itself?"
"Contradiction?"
"Yes. We have more questions."
Hunt sighed. There was going to be a lot of this ahead, he could see, and without ZORAC it wasn't going to get any better. He might as well start getting used to it now. Just then, a uniformed Lambian hurried in and muttered something to the three sitting by the door. One of them called something to Laisha. She went over and talked with them for a minute or two with much head shaking and gestures, and occasional glances back toward Hunt and Danchekker. They waited. Then Laisha called them over. Hunt shrugged at Danchekker, and they joined her.
"From…" She waved a hand. "What is place where I was? First see you."
"Communications room."
"Okay. Is connection there to…" Laisha made an expansive gesture in the air. "Communications for all Minerva. Phones. Computers. You know?"
"Okay."
"Message comes in. Nobody knows where from. They think maybe is for Giants."
"A message has been received by the planetary net," Danchekker interpreted, trying to follow along with Hunt.
"What does it say?" Hunt asked.
"Not sure. Nobody understands. But is from person you know? Someone who says is VISAR."
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
By this time, Harzin and Perasmon had landed, boarded a waiting helicopter, and were due back in Melthis shortly to receive the visitors from the Shapieron. So Hunt and his companions had to wait before learning what had happened. But at least they enjoyed the benefit of having VISAR available online as a translator at their meeting with the two leaders.
Many forms of physical system are analogous in that they involve quantities playing similar roles, related by the same kinds of mathematical equations. Electrical voltage, current, and resistance, for example, correspond to the pressure, flow, and friction in hydraulics. Inductance and capacitance find their counterparts in mechanical inertia and elasticity. The Thurien scientists were beginning to piece together a theoretical construct that enabled many peculiarities of Multiverse to be viewed in terms recognizable in more familiar physics. The analogies were not exact, of course, but they could often serve as an aid to clearer understanding. One area that was proving fruitful in this respect was electrodynamics. In fact, the bizarre zones of time line convergence were found to influence each other remotely across MV space in a manner evocative of the way electrical charges do across ordinary space. The "umbilical" conduit connecting the Gate projectors to the bubble zone of an on-board generator could be thought of as carrying a current between them.
When a magnetic field collapses rapidly, it induces an electromotive force, or voltage, in the circuit carrying the current responsible for the field. The induced voltage acts in such a direction as to try to keep the current flowing. The system exhibits "electrical inertia." An apparently similar situation held when Garuth collapsed the expanded convergence zone built up around the Shapieron. A huge "voltage" was created, which in seeking an outlet found a path to a complementary "pole" in the form of the MV charge concentration at the Thurien Gate, which was operating following a directive from Calazar to launch search probes, forlorn though the scientists said the hopes of success would be.
In effect, a connecting path was created between the Gate and the Shapieron-somewhat like the filament of ionized particles that an electric field creates between a thundercloud and the ground, opening the path which a lighting flash will follow. The result was that the wave defining the probe that VISAR was in the process of launching, instead of going where it was meant to, followed the trail back. The probe's instruments quickly established the presence of the Shapieron and went into beacon mode to mark the location. VISAR was unable to raise ZORAC, however, and so resorted to establishing contact via the Minervan planetary net in the way that by now was routine.
So, they would be going home after all. But there was more. Mainly because of Eesyan's misgivings when the first full Gate test involving the Shapieron was due, VISAR had stored a backup copy of ZORAC-just in case. Now that contact to VISAR had been reestablished, restoration of ZORAC became first priority.
***
The part of the team who were down in Melthis were taken to the Agracon's communications room to follow the event via the link to the Shapieron. Reloading and linking took awhile because VISAR was restricted to operating via the beacon connection. It could have been carried out more quickly back at Thurien, but Garuth wanted to bring his ship back under the control of the entity he had known for years, and nobody was going to spoil it.
"Integration complete and checking indicators good," VISAR pronounced. "It's all yours." Everyone on the Command Deck looked toward Garuth.
He took a moment to prepare. "ZORAC."
"Commander?"
A wave of relief and elation surged around the company watching from the surface. Some Lambians and Cerians were present also. "Just checking on current status and the schedule for today," Garuth said. "What do you have?"
"Eesyan has approved the last series of raft tests to assess collapse of the local bubble after stabilization. All results affirmative. No anomalies detected. We're cleared for full-scale tests on the Shapieron. On Eesyan's insistence, VISAR has stored a backup of yours truly." Smiles went back and forth among those watching both in the ship and down on the surface. ZORAC was exhibiting the computer equivalent of amnesia, reporting what had been the situation months before. It hadn't realized yet that it was the backup.
"Would you care to analyze the surroundings of the ship, evaluate, and report?" Garuth invited.
A short silence ensued. Nobody expected that it would take a system of ZORAC's logical capability very long to arrive at the correct conclusion.
"I gather that I have some catching up to do," ZORAC responded finally. "And am hugely indebted to Eesyan, to put it mildly. Okay, you've got it. No more wisecracks about the pedantry of biominds." An outbreak of applause greeted the statement.
"Welcome back," Garuth said.
***
It was agreed that the Shapieron would remain at Minerva for a further week for the story to be explained in full. With the perspective that the mission was able to bring of the future that continued rivalry and escalating hostility would lead to, few doubted that Cerios and Lambia would quickly overcome the differences that had begun to emerge between them and devote themselves to the common goal that represented the only progressive future for all of them.
It was going to be a busy week. Besides providing the entire story of Earth, Thurien, and everything that had happened from the departure of the Giants from Minerva, to the decision to mount the Shapieron mission from Thurien, it would be necessary to advance their understanding of physics-the Minervans still hadn't been able to make any sense of quantum phenomena. On top of that there was insatiable curiosity among Minerva's public and news media to be addressed. Adopting a policy of starting the way they meant to carry on, the leaders of the two powers decided against any blackout of the aliens' presence. It would have been short-lived in any case. Even in its parking orbit a hundred miles above the surface, the Shapieron extended over half the diameter of the full moon and passed overhead several times a day as a brilliant pencil of light or a silhouette, depending on the position of the Sun.
But for now, all that the members of the mission really wanted to do was get away for a while, rest, and come to terms, each in their own way and in their own mind, with the feeling of sudden reprieve from the exile that they had inwardly been preparing themselves for. After staying for a dinner in Melthis that eve
ning that Harzin and Perasmon insisted on, which could hardly be refused, the Ganymeans and the Terrans down on the surface boarded their craft to return to the Shapieron. Of course, the Minervans were all eager for a chance to visit the starship too. But not now. None of them pressed the point. That could come later, in the days they had ahead. They all understood.
***
It had been a long day at UNSA's Goddard Center too. Caldwell had tried to maintain an air of sanguinity commensurate with the spirit of the occasion as he smiled and nodded his way through rooms where staff dutifully explained their work to gum-chewing tourists in baseball hats and beach shorts, and past school groups depositing sticky fingerprints around the exhibit hall in the lobby and in the computer graphics room. He'd survived worse, he supposed.
One of the most popular items was the Thurien neurocouplers in the bay along the corridor from his office. All day long there had been a line of people waiting for their turn to walk among the towering cityscapes of Thurien, gaze in awe at real dinosaurs and jungles on another world, or be whisked through a virtual tour of the Galaxy, courtesy of VISAR. Within half an hour of opening, Caldwell had been approached by interests wanting to get in on the ground floor of a Terran commercial end of the operation. He wouldn't talk to them. That was what UNSA had a Public Relations department for.
"This is Mr. Caldwell, Director of the Advanced Sciences Division," Amelia, who had been doing a gallant job as tour guide, said to the couple in the matching shirts. Things were quieting down at last. They were among the last to be leaving. "ASD handles most of our dealings with the Thuriens."
"Do you think it's safe, allowing these aliens to come straight into people's heads here like this?" the woman accosted. "They could be setting us up for an invasion. After all, look what happened to the Jevlenese."
"We do keep a close watch on the situation at all times," Caldwell assured her.
"Psycho-socio sympathetic resonances," the man said. "Tuned to the cortical subliminal modes." He looked at Caldwell expectantly. Mercifully, Caldwell's phone beeped.
"Excuse me," he muttered.
It was Mitzi. "Gregg, I've got Calazar on the line."
"I'll be right there." Caldwell did his best to look apologetic. "Sorry, but I'm being called." He turned his head as he hurried away, still holding the phone in his hand. "I'm sure Amelia will be happy to answer your question."
He walked through the door of the outer office bearing its sign, no admittance, and closed it behind him. "What's up?" Mitzi gestured to a screen showing Calazar at the far end of the Thurien link. Caldwell pivoted it to face him fully. "Hi, Byrom." Caldwell was up to date on the news, of course.
"Gregg. How was your social day?"
"Almost over. I noticed that none of the administrators who dreamed it up were here to help deal with it. Anyway, what's new?"
"The mission people are back at the Shapieron-mainly to rest and recompose themselves, I suspect."
"I can imagine. I think I would be too."
"Since it's going to be another week at least before we bring them back, I thought it might be appropriate for you and I to join them." That was the Thurien way of talking. Calazar meant virtually, via neurocouplers. "Symbolically showing that we've been with them, as it were. And what better way could there be of celebrating VISAR's reconnection?"
"Sounds like a good idea. When did you have in mind?"
"Now, if you can manage it. Is there a coupler available there? You said earlier people were lining up to try them."
"Things are quieter now. Just a second. I'll check." Caldwell looked over at Mitzi. "Can you raise Amelia and find out what the coupler situation is out there? Calazar wants me to take a trip to visit Vic and the guys."
"Sure will."
"Some of the scientists from Quelsang will be joining us too," Calazar said. "There's one last aspect of this whole business that they're getting excited about. They want to tell the others about it, especially Eesyan and Vic."
"Oh? And what's that?" Caldwell asked.
"I'm not sure I fully understand it myself. But it's to do with this business about the Shapieron's bubble implosion creating some kind of low-resistance path back to here."
Caldwell followed that much. "Uh-huh."
"All the activity that's been going on would involve many other universes apart from ours, all doing much the same thing. Well, the theory is that the entire local region of the Multiverse that was affected-centered on Minerva, fifty thousand years ago-somehow created a similar kind of pathway to the disturbance that projected those five Jevlenese ships back. So…" Calazar paused as Caldwell began nodding rapidly, already seeing what he was getting at.
"I know what you're going to say. That's a question I've been asking for a long time. The coincidence was too much to buy. This answers it."
"That why they ended up where they did. Anyway, it's another whole area of theory that we're about to get into, I'm told."
Cadwell realized the Mitzi was waving. "Just a second, Bryom…" He raised an eyebrow.
"Amelia says, no problem. It's clear out there."
"The couplers are free," Caldwell told Calazar. "I'll see you… wherever. Where are we going?"
"I thought we'd go there, to the ship," Calazar said. The Shapieron had been fitted with Thurien neurocouplers for its stay on Jevlen.
"Sounds good. I'll see you fifty thousand years ago in a couple of minutes."
Caldwell cleared down and went back into the corridor. The building was quiet and felt back to normal. He saw Amelia coming the other way. "That couple aren't still waiting somewhere to ambush me, are they?" he said.
"You're safe. They left."
"And the coupler room is free?"
"Yes… Oh, there's just one guy left in one of the cubicles but I don't think he'll be a problem."
"Great job. You've earned a day off."
"I'll hold you to that."
Caldwell went on through to the coupler area, let himself in to one of the vacant cubicles, and settled himself down in the recliner. The sensation came of his mind opening up into a void that told him he was connecting to VISAR. "So how was your day here at UNSA?" he subvocalized.
"Oh, pretty lightweight but varied," VISAR replied. "I trust my service was at its customary level of excellence?"
"I haven't heard any complaints. So, you know the deal with Calazar?"
"Yes. You're all meeting at Minerva, aboard the Shapieron."
"Let's go."
***
Hunt relaxed back in one of the Shapieron's neurocouplers. Although he was aboard the ship physically, he needed to be coupled neurally to interact with the others from Thurien and Earth. The impression of being together would be an illusion shared by all of them.
"VISAR, you have absolutely no idea how great it is to be doing this again," he said. "We thought we were isolated here for the rest of the duration." It was intoxicating.
"It was most fortunate," VISAR confessed. "I had run out of viable options. You know that."
"But you tried all the same."
"That was Calazar. In a situation like that, I just follow orders."
"I think I'm beginning to understand why Thurien loves him. So he's coming here too? And Gregg?"
"They thought it was the least they could do."
"Where are we meeting?"
"Garuth thought, the officers' mid-decks lounge."
A good choice, Hunt thought. Relaxed, informal, but dignified and comfortable. "Is anyone there yet?" he inquired.
"You're the first."
And Hunt was standing in the officers' lounge amid outsize Ganymean seating of black upholstery arranged in booths and around low alcove tables. The newly paneled walls showed dynamic murals, and there was a virtual buffet set out on the counter running along one side.
"You have a call," VISAR said. "Someone from Goddard connected neurally, asking if you're available."
Goddard! The word sounded beautiful. Hunt had thought he would never
see it again. Only now was it coming home to him fully that the nightmare was over. Everything was fine. He was back in his familiar world again. In his rising euphoria he didn't care who it was or bother to ask. No doubt somebody from the firm wanting to check on him. "Sure," he said. "Bring him through." A moment later, a figure in a blue suit, wearing a white shirt and tie, popped into existence in a human-scale chair in front of him. For a moment he just sat staring around, looking bewildered. Hunt couldn't place him. He was heavy set, smooth-shaven and fleshy, with hair combed back from a round, moonish brow.
"Good evening," Hunt said. "Er, do I know you?"
"I'm looking for a Dr. Victor Hunt."
"This is he, at your service. And you are Mr…?"
"Lieutenant Polk, FBI, Investigations Branch, Fraud and Finance Division." Polk reached automatically inside his jacket for his badge. VISAR had no way of knowing what he intended, and improvised a card with a smiley face. Polk stared at it with the expression of one who had just opened his safe deposit box to find a rubber duck. But academy training prevailed, and he recovered himself quickly. "Could I ask you some questions concerning your relationship with a company called Formaflex of Austin, Texas, Dr. Hunt?"
Hunt blinked. This wasn't real. "You've come a long way," he remarked, more for something to say. "You do know where this is, I take it?"
"Not really. The computer or whatever it is just told me you'd said you were available."
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