To Save the Sun

by Ben Bova

  "Anyway," Salera went on, "I would have been disappointed had you not made an attempt to influence me before our meeting with the invaders."

  Amasee bristled at the word but, knowing that the Eastlander was making an obvious attempt to get under his skin, controlled his response. "I don't like that term," he said carefully, "any more than our respective Congresses do."

  "But then, we are not meeting in Joint Dominion, are we?" Salera finished his drink, never taking his eyes off him, and leaned back in the sofa. He hung his arm over the armrest, swirling the ice annoyingly around the bottom of the glass dangling loosely in his fingertips. "And if I prefer, in the privacy of my own room, to speak of these Imperial 'diplomats' as I feel they really are, then what difference does it make what words I use?" He paused a beat, then let all traces of amused sarcasm disappear as he added, "Unless, of course, you wish to declare an official inter-Congress meeting between us. If that is your intention, farmer, then our recorders should be summoned from their respective cabins, and remain present for as long as we have anything important to say to one another." Salera sat motionless, head tilted questioningly, and waited. "Shall I call them?"

  This is a waste of time, Amasee thought, and this man is a fool. The other man could read the anger on his face, he knew, and he opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it and swallowed hard, forcing his anger down and carefully choosing his next words.

  "No. It's not necessary to call them." He crossed his legs, assuming a relaxed pose, and noted with a bit of surprise that he felt better, less agitated, now that their initial hostilities were in the open. "I intend to consider anything we say to each other in this room off the record."

  "I thought so." He rose, crossing to the stateroom's wet bar. "Since this appears to be a purely social call, then, perhaps I should be a bit more sociable. May I offer you something?"

  Amasee nodded, and the two chatted idly for the minute or two it took for him to prepare the drinks. They talked of nothing consequential, limiting their discussion to mundane banter—living arrangements on the ship, the quality of the food, speculation on the evening's entertainment programming—and Amasee noticed that Salera's manner changed slightly as they spoke, as if the Eastlander had also been hoping for an opportunity to meet in private. Their mutual animosity remained, but was, for the moment, being set aside by unspoken agreement between them.

  "I'm not here to attempt to change your mind," Amasee began once Salera returned to his place on the sofa. "We both know that would be a pointless waste of time. However, I feel it is absolutely imperative that the Imperial"—he hesitated, not wanting to use a word the other might consider an attempt at agitation—"representatives be allowed to attend a session of Joint Dominion without undue influence. From either of us."

  "Meaning?"

  "You know exactly what I mean, Kip! We can't afford to antagonize them at this point."

  . "I disagree. It matters little to me if they feel antagonized. They already know how we feel about their interference. Have for years. What possible difference could it make to reaffirm our beliefs?"

  Amasee nodded, granting at least part of the point he had tried to make. "Yes, but that knowledge is outdated by decades, and you know it. Things have changed on Pallatin, attitudes have changed, just in the time it's taken them to travel here from Sol."

  "Maybe attitudes have changed in the Westland Congress," Salera said, "but not in ours, as you discovered in Joint Dominion. We still want no part of the Hundred Worlds, and frankly, I intend to remind them of that fact as soon as we rendezvous with their starship." He sat back, as determined in his decision as Amasee himself was.

  Amasee nodded again, smiling in resignation at their mutual obstinance. "I expected as much." He sighed heavily, setting his glass down on the end table, then leaned forward on his knees and clasped his hands before him. He regarded his counterpart with a look of deadly seriousness, adding, "However, please understand that if you do, I've been authorized by my Congress to pledge full, immediate allegiance to the Hundred Worlds on the spot."

  Salera's eyes widened in surprised shock as he realized the implications. "But the Westland Congress never discussed this with us in Joint Dominion!" he sputtered, instantly on his feet. "We agreed, voted, that any decision to accept the Empire would be made on a planetwide basis!"

  "I know." Amasee lowered his head, his voice taking on a matter-of-fact tone. "We never welcomed Imperial intervention any more than Eastland has, but we've always had doubts about severing Pallatin completely from the Empire because of the genetic aspects of a total separation. That's even more important now that drift has been proven. We need to check the rate of drift or we won't be able to map the code; and without the mapping, we leave ourselves wide open to new disease."

  Salera shook his head. "We considered that and rejected it. Any drift that is likely to occur is insignificant."

  "Maybe so, and maybe the threat is more imagined than real. But there's a vastly simpler reason for staying in the Hundred Worlds." He stood, paced the room nervously before continuing. "We changed, Kip, after the Quake; we've been trying to tell you people that for years. Without your help, Westland might never have been able to rebuild, much less advance. It could not have been done alone. We realize now that Pallatin needs the Empire, just as we needed Eastland after the Quake." He stopped pacing and turned to the Eastlander.

  Salera stared impassively at him, his face an unrevealing mask. His initial shock and anger at Amasee's threat were obviously gone, but he kept well hidden whatever feelings were going through him now. "Big words from someone who wasn't even here when the Quake hit," he said emotionlessly.

  There had been no background noise in the room—no music, no information feed, nothing—but the cabin seemed to fall into an even colder silence at the man's words. Salera stared into his eyes, and although he had certainly meant what he'd said, behind the cold stare was a look of regret at having said it.

  "Am… I'm sorry, that was uncalled-for."

  "No," Amasee replied, surprised at himself that he felt no anger at the remark. He dug his hands deep into his pockets and approached the other man. "No, you're right. But the fact remains that Westland has come to this decision, and that I've been authorized to ally with the Empire if you attempt in any way to antagonize or threaten the Imperial representatives before they've had a chance to appear in Joint Dominion."

  He left the threat hanging there, unchallenged, and both men knew the unofficial meeting had come to an end. Salera turned wordlessly and Amasee followed him to the door, but stopped when the man looked back at him before opening it.

  "They're only one starship," he said, almost pleading. "Together, standing as one, Pallatin might have turned them away."

  "Maybe," Amasee agreed. "But our philosophies are still too different, yours and ours, and once the Imperial threat was gone we would have drawn even further apart than we are now. And Pallatin would ultimately fall."

  Amasee reached past Salera and thumbed the control switch in the doorjamb, and silently left the stateroom.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  By agreement—reached more through mutual distrust than diplomacy—the two ships came to a halt at the outside limit of their immediate firing range, full shields raised, and remained dead in space until boarding parties could be exchanged.

  The Imperial party was immediately outnumbered and disarmed by the security forces aboard Thunder Child the moment they disembarked their transfer shuttle. The Imperial forces put up no resistance whatever, nor had they been ordered to.

  Meanwhile, aboard the Imperial starship, the boarding party from the Pallatin ship was similarly received the instant their shuttle docked and the mating seal opened. No resistance was offered by the Pallatins, no overt force used by the starship crew.

  Pallatin's level of shield technology, laughably inferior to the Empire's, might have allowed the Levant to easily blast the colonial ship from space, and the rumor that Commander Montero
might do just that as a demonstration of Imperial force had been circulating among the crew for days. Surely an overt display of Imperial power would bring the upstart colony into line, they thought, followed by an immediate turnaround for home. But then, suppose the advancing ship was little more than an enormous explosive device with only enough crew and thrust to get it into position, waiting for just such a response from the Empire?

  Likewise, the Thunder Child might manage to destroy the larger Imperial visitor, or disable it in space. More than a few of the passengers aboard her thought longingly of the possibility, thinking that such an action would say "Leave us alone" more loudly than any words. Of course, there was no way to tell that this envoy from the Hundred Worlds was not intended as a decoy ship, with the genuine—fully armed—Imperial starship following a light-month behind the first.

  The inspection took nearly two days. While the true extent of the firepower of each ship was kept from the respective boarding parties, each captain was ultimately assured mat the opposite vessel was what it had been purported to be.

  Finally, satisfied that the other was responding honestly, each captain ordered his boarding party to return.

  Another full day passed, technicians from each ship carefully monitoring the other for the slightest movement or hint of aggression, while debriefing of the boarding parties took place.

  Still another day passed as diplomatic discussions and agreements were conducted between the commanding officers of each ship. Then yet another as final preparations were made.

  A week after they met in space, the Levant and Thunder Child finally turned toward Pallatin on a heading that would carry them into orbital insertion.

  Commander Montero breathed a sigh of relief once they were safely, and without incident, under way. But somewhere deep in the back of his mind was just the slightest disappointment that the entire matter might have been settled at their first meeting, sending a resounding message to every one of the frontier worlds that to go against the Empire was a useless gesture. Fain had given him the authority, after all, to act as he saw best. Montero pushed the nagging thought out of his mind.

  He had no way of knowing, of course, that the captain of the Thunder Child felt almost exactly the same conflicting mixture of relief—and regret—that he did.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  "Pallatin is not the same world it was," said the man who had identified himself as Niles. "We ask only that you meet with us in Joint Dominion before deciding on a course of action that would, of necessity, be based on outdated information."

  Montero sat straight in his chair, as he had throughout this meeting, and nodded pensively. "I am willing to listen." His demeanor was considerably different from that shown at the several briefings that had taken place in the four weeks since Adela had come out of cryosleep. In those lectures, he was merely dictating a list of facts to bored personnel as a simple act of shipboard protocol. Here, however, there was something at stake, not only for the sake of the successful completion of the mission, but it was clear to Adela that there was a certain amount of personal pride connected to the seriousness with which he conducted himself at this meeting with the Pallatin representatives. His lack of communication skills at briefings was more than counterbalanced by the adept nature in which he handled the diplomatic needs of his command.

  Adela herself had little role to play during this session. Although she was nominally Emperor Javas' official Imperial representative, it was Montero who had jurisdiction here—and the final decision as to their next course of action. Her opportunity to speak would come later, she knew, so she sat quietly, talcing in everything she could about the two men from the planet below them. They, along with Captain Thommas of the Thunder Child, had called for this informal meeting to take place once they'd established orbit around the planet. The three Pallatins sat at one end of the long conference table while Montero; Nelon, his First Officer; a representative of the Imperial Council of Academicians named Yuleeva; and Lieutenant Billy Woorunmarra sat with her at the other. Like her, the others remained silent unless asked by Montero for their input.

  "What my esteemed counterpart is saying is quite true." Representative Salera, Speaker of the Eastland Congress, smiled warmly, glancing in polite deference to the man sitting next to him at the table. "The Quake not only caused major damage to a large portion of the infrastructure west of Arroyo, but several of the shipyards were affected, some extensively. Notably, the facilities at Blankensport, Taw and South Passage remain closed to this day; others, including two Eastland yards closest to the epicenter, are still not operating at full capacity."

  Representative Niles nodded in agreement. "It has become necessary to cut back or delay delivery on several contracts. Other contracts have been withdrawn, with customers applying to suppliers on other worlds." The Speaker of the Westland Congress shrugged, extending his palms outward on the tabletop. "You see, Commander Montero, so much has changed since you left Sol for Pallatin. While my world's representatives originally refused all cooperation at the time your project was originally announced—openly denounced the Hundred Worlds, in fact—our circumstances have changed such that it is now a matter of extreme impracticality, rather than mere defiance, that makes honoring the requests made by the Emperor so many years ago a difficult task for us."

  "Am I to understand, then," asked Montero simply, "that the Joint Dominion of Pallatin no longer opposes the Emperor of the Hundred Worlds?" His hands before him on the table, he leaned forward on his elbows and looked into the face of each of the men in turn.

  Adela followed his gaze, attempting to read on their faces what wasn't being said aloud. Captain Thommas remained impassive, as he had throughout the discussion; clearly his duty was to convey and escort the two official planetary representatives, leaving all matters of diplomacy to them, and he made no attempt to offer anything in response to Montero's question. Speaker Niles, likewise, did not reply immediately, but turned instead to his counterpart. Salera, however, was visibly agitated by Montero's blunt query. His large eyes widened, darting occasionally to his two companions, and he seemed to wrestle with a response. Adela noted that Montero missed none of it, and raised her respect for the Commander as he waited patiently for an answer. Salera opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated, then started to reply when Speaker Niles interrupted.

  "While it is true that Speaker Salera and I represent the Joint Dominion, I think I speak for both of us when I say that we would prefer not to influence you with our own opinions at this time."

  Salera seemed at once unburdened by the remark, and the look of anxiety in his expressive eyes disappeared immediately. "I agree with Speaker Niles' assessment of the situation." He leaned back in his chair and addressed Montero directly. "It would be better, if you agree to accept our invitation to attend Joint Dominion, that you come with no biases caused by anything we might say." He looked questioningly at his counterpart, an eyebrow raised as if to ask, "Was that satisfactory?"

  Representative Niles nodded politely, looking unmistakably pleased at what the other man had said.

  Montero smiled in understanding. "I concur. For my part, I am willing to keep an open mind in this." He stood, signaling that the meeting had concluded, and added, "Captain Thommas, Speaker Salera, Speaker Niles; thank you for your time and your candid remarks concerning the status of Pallatin in relation to the rest of the Hundred Worlds. I await your formal invitation." He smiled again, then bowed slightly.

  They returned the formal gesture and left immediately. Montero spoke briefly to the academician before dismissing him, then said a few words to his officers, who followed him out of the room. They didn't go far, however, and stood talking just outside the open door.

  Adela paid little attention to them, her thoughts still on the discussion just concluded.

  They were fascinating men.

  It was obvious to Adela by the way they had spoken to one another that there was no love lost between the two representatives, but each ra
diated a strength and comradeship—even in those subject areas in which they clearly disagreed—that displayed a great sense of both pride and honor at what Pallatin had accomplished. If the rest of their people were as strong-willed as were these two, even in disagreement, then the mission to gain Pallatin's support would not be as simple a matter as using force.

  What was it Speaker Solera wasn't saying? she wondered. Something had passed between the two of them at the conclusion of the meeting, Adela knew, but what? It was obvious to her, and certainly to Montero as well, that he was holding something back.

  She was no closer to figuring out what it was an hour later when, back in her cabin, her thoughts were disturbed by the door chime.

  "Yes?" she called, activating the room system. "Who is it?"

  "Only me, Doctor." She recognized Lieutenant Woorunmarra's melodic voice. "May I talk to you?"

  "Open." She crossed the short distance to the door, picking up a notepad from her desk, and extended her hand as she welcomed the officer in and led him to the seating area. "Please, feel at home."

  "Thank you." He looked enviously around at the comfortable suite with an appreciative look common to military personnel more used to spartan living quarters, and nodded his approval. "We've received formal invitation to attend a session of Joint Dominion, and Commander Montero has accepted."

  "That's excellent! When?"

  "In three days, ship's time."

  She opened the pad and quickly keyed in the information. "They didn't waste much time, did they?"

  "No, but I'm not really that surprised. The session must've been planned for weeks to coincide with our arrival. No doubt they merely needed only to relay our willingness to join them before makin' it official."

  It made sense. Why else would they have been so confident that setting up a Joint Dominion could be handled as quickly as they'd indicated? "I'll need every bit of the time to get ready," she said, still tapping notes into the pad. "Although I'll be able to let some of the others handle a few of—"