by Fred Hoyle
“There are two other points,” said McNeil. “How do you recharge your neurological material with energy? This is done in the human case by the blood supply. Do you have an equivalent to our blood supply? Secondly, what would be the rough size of the units that you build?”
The answer came:
“The size is variable according to what particular end the unit is designed for. The underlying solid may measure anything from a yard or two up to several hundred yards.
“Yes, I do have an equivalent to a blood supply. A supply of appropriate substances is maintained by a flow of gas that streams constantly past the units of which I am composed. The flow is maintained by an electromagnetic pump instead of by a “heart”, however. That is to say, the pump is of an inorganic nature. This is another facility that we always provide when we plant new life. The gas flows from the pump to a supply of chemical foods, then past my neurological structure, which absorbs the sundry materials that are required for my brain operation. These materials also deposit their waste products in the gas. The gas then makes its way back to the pump, but before it does so it passes through a filter that removes the waste products — a filter that is rather akin to your kidneys.
“There is an important advantage in my having heart, kidneys, and blood that are essentially inorganic in their mode of operation. Failure of operation can readily be allowed for. If my “heart” goes wrong I simply switch over to a spare “heart” which I always keep in readiness. If my “kidneys” go wrong I do not die as your musician Mozart did. I again switch over to spare “kidneys”. And I can make new “blood” in vast quantities.”
Shortly afterwards Joe went off the air.
“The thing which staggers me is the astonishing similarity in the principles on which life is maintained,” remarked McNeil. “The details are of course wildly different: gas instead of blood, electromagnetic heart and kidneys, and so on. But the logic of the lay-out is the same.”
“And the logic of brain-building seems to have some relation to our programming of a computer,” said Leicester.
“Did you notice that, Chris? It sounded almost like designing some new sub-routine.”
“I think the similarities are genuine. I’ve heard it said that the knee-joint of a fly is very similar in its construction to our own knee-joints. Why? Because there is just one good way to construct a knee-joint. Similarly there is just one logic, and just one way of designing the general lay-out of intelligent life.”
“But why do you think there should be this unique logic?’ McNeil asked Kingsley.
“It’s a little difficult for me to explain, because this is as near as I go to the expression of religious sentiment. We know that the Universe possesses some inner basic structure, this is what we are finding out in our science or trying to find out. We tend to give ourselves a sort of moral pat on the back when we contemplate our successes in this respect, as if to say that the Universe is following our logic. But this is surely to put the cart before the horse. It isn’t the Universe that’s following our logic, it’s we that are constructed in accordance with the logic of the Universe. And that gives what I might call a definition of intelligent life: something that reflects the basic structure of the Universe. We do, and so does Joe, and that’s why we appear to have so much in common, why we can talk together on something like a common basis, even though we’re so wildly different in our detailed construction. We’re both constructed in a way that reflects the inner pattern of the Universe.”
“Those political bastards are still trying to get through. Damn it, I’ll switch those lights off,” remarked Leicester.
He walked over to the bank of lights monitoring the various transmissions that were being received. A minute later he returned to his seat, shaking with laughter.
“Here’s a fine thing,” he gurgled. “I forgot to stop our conversation going out on ten centimetres. They’ve been hearing everything we’ve been saying — Alexis’s reference to the Kremlin, Chris’s remark about cutting their throats. No wonder they’re in a rage! I reckon the fat’s in the fire now, all right.”
No one seemed quite to know what to do. At length Kingsley walked over to the control board. He flicked a number of switches, and said into a microphone:
“This is Nortonstowe, Christopher Kingsley speaking. If you have any message, get on with it.”
An angry voice came over the loud-speaker:
“So you’re there, are you, Nortonstowe! We’ve been trying to get through to you for the last three hours.”
“Who is that speaking?”
“Grohmer, U.S. Secretary for Defence. I might tell you that you are talking to a very angry man, Mr Kingsley. I am waiting for an explanation of tonight’s outrageous conduct.”
“Then you will go on waiting, I fear. I will give you another thirty seconds, and if your statements have not assumed some reasonably cogent form by then, I shall switch off again.”
The voice became quieter, and more threatening:
“Mr Kingsley, I have heard before of your insufferable obstructiveness, but this is the first time I have encountered it myself. For your information, I intend that it shall be the last time. This is not a warning. I am simply telling you here and now that very shortly you will be removed from Nortonstowe. Where you will be removed to, I shall leave to your own imagination.”
“I am anxious that in your plans for me, Mr Grohmer, you have given full consideration to one very important point.”
“And what is that, may I ask?”
“That it is within my power to obliterate the whole continent of America. If you doubt this statement ask your astronomers what happened to the Moon on the evening of 7 August. You might also like to take into account that it would take me substantially less than five minutes to implement this threat.”
Kingsley clicked off a group of switches and the lights at the control panel went off. Marlowe was white-faced and there were little beads of sweat on his forehead and on his upper lip. “Chris, that was not well done, it was not well done,” he said. Kingsley was genuinely disturbed.
“I’m sorry, Geoff. It never occurred to me while I was speaking that America is your country. I say again that I’m sorry, but by way of excuse you must know that I’d have said the same thing to London, or to Moscow, or to anybody.”
Marlowe shook his head.
“You’ve got me wrong, Chris. I’m not objecting because America is my country. In any case I know you were only putting up a bluff. What worries me is that the bluff may turn out to be damn dangerous.”
“Nonsense. You’re giving an exaggerated importance to a storm in a tea-cup. You still haven’t got over the idea that politicians are important because the newspapers tell you so. They’ll probably realize that I might be bluffing but while there’s just the possibility that I could make good my threat they’ll lay off the strong arm stuff. You’ll see.”
But in this matter Marlowe was right and Kingsley wrong, as events soon showed.
The Hydrogen Rockets
Kingsley was roused from sleep about three hours later.
“Sorry to waken you, Chris, but something important has happened,” said Harry Leicester. When he was satisfied that Kingsley was sufficiently alert he went on:
“There’s a call from London for Parkinson.”
“They’re certainly not wasting much time.”
“We can’t let him take it, can we? It’d be taking too big a risk.”
Kingsley was quiet for a few moments. Then, evidently making up his mind:
“I think we must take the risk, Harry, but we’ll stand over him while he takes the call. In fact we’ll make sure that he doesn’t give anything away. The point is this. Although I’ve no doubt that the long arm of Washington could extend as far as Nortonstowe, I can’t believe that our Government can relish being told what to do on their own territory. Therefore we start with the advantage of some sympathy from our own people. If we stop Parkinson answering the call we cancel that ad
vantage straight away. Let’s go along and see him.”
When they had wakened Parkinson and told him of the call, Kingsley said:
“Look here, Parkinson, I’m going to do some plain speaking. By our own lights we’ve played this game pretty clean so far. It’s true that we made a lot of conditions when we came here, and we’ve insisted on those conditions being honoured. But in return we’ve quite genuinely supplied your people with the best information we had. Again it’s true that we haven’t always been right, but the reason for our mistakes is now only too clear. The Americans set up a corresponding establishment and this was run on the politicians’ terms not on the scientists’ terms, and the amount of information that came from that establishment was less than it has been from Nortonstowe. In fact, you know very well that but for our information the death roll in recent months would have been even vaster than it is.”
“Where is all this leading, Kingsley?”
“I’m simply showing you that however much it might at times have seemed otherwise we’ve played very straight. We’ve played straight even to the extent of revealing the real nature of the Cloud, and of passing on the information we’ve received from it. But where I do dig my toes in is at the thought of losing valuable communication time. We can’t expect that the Cloud is going to give endless time to talking to us, it’s got bigger fish to fry. And I’m emphatically not going to let what time we can get go by in political chit-chat if I can help it. We’ve got too much still to learn. Besides, if the politicians started up with their Geneva stuff and arguing about agendas, it’s more than likely that the Cloud would sign off altogether. It’s not going to waste its time talking to gibbering idiots.”
“I never cease being flattered at your opinion of us. But I still don’t see where this is leading.”
“It’s leading to this. London is calling you, and we’re going to be there when you answer. If you breathe a word of doubt over my suggestion of an alliance between us and the Cloud I’ll hit you over the head with a spanner. Come on, let’s get it over.”
It turned out that Kingsley had misjudged the situation somewhat. All the Prime Minister really wanted to know from Parkinson was whether in his opinion there was any doubt that the Cloud could obliterate a continent if it really wished. Parkinson was in no difficulty over his answer. He answered quite genuinely and without hesitation that he had every reason to believe that it could. This satisfied the Prime Minister, and after a few unrelated remarks he went off the air.
“Very odd,” said Leicester to Kingsley after Parkinson had returned to bed.
“Too much Clausewitz,” he went on. “They’re only interested in fire power.”
“Yes, it’s apparently never occurred to them that anybody might possess an overwhelming weapon and still decline to use it.”
“Particularly in a case like this.”
“What d’you mean, Harry?”
“Well, isn’t it axiomatic that any non-human intelligence must be evil?”
“I suppose it is. Now I come to think of it, ninety-nine per cent of stories about non-human intelligences treat ’em as being entirely villainous. I’d always supposed that was because it’s so difficult to invent a really convincing villain, but perhaps it may run deeper.”
“Well, people are always frightened of what they don’t understand, and I don’t suppose the political boys have understood much of what’s been going on. Still you’d think that they’d have realized that we’re on pretty matey terms with Old Joe, wouldn’t you?”
“Unless they’ve interpreted it as evidence of a devil’s compact.”
The first move of the U.S. Government after Kingsley’s threat, and after London had confirmed the Cloud’s potential destructive power, was to give overriding priority to the building of a one-centimetre transmitter and receiver of the Nortonstowe design (which thanks to the information supplied by Nortonstowe at an earlier date was available to them). So excellent was American technical ability that the work was finished in an extremely short time. But the outcome was wholly disappointing. The Cloud did not reply to the American transmissions, nor were any messages that the Cloud addressed to Nortonstowe intercepted. There were two distinct reasons for these failures. Failure to intercept was due to a serious technical difficulty. Once communication between the Cloud and Nortonstowe became conversational there was no need for a very rapid transmission of information, as for instance there had been during the period when the Cloud was learning of our human scientific knowledge and cultural patterns. This enabled transmission band widths to be greatly reduced, which was desirable from the Cloud’s point of view, since interference with messages from other galactic denizens was thereby vastly lessened. Indeed so narrow was the band width and so low was the power used in the transmissions that the Americans were quite unable to discover the correct exact wave-length on which interception might have been achieved. The reason why the Cloud did not reply to the American transmissions was simpler. The Cloud would not reply unless a correctly coded signal was transmitted at the beginning of a message, and the U.S. Government did not possess the code.
Failure of communication led to other plans being followed. The nature of these plans came as a shock to Nortonstowe. News of them came through Parkinson, who rushed one afternoon into Kingsley’s office.
“Why are there so many fools in the world?’ he exclaimed in a rather wild tone.
“Good, you’ve seen the light at last, have you?’ was Kingsley’s comment.
“And you’re among them, Kingsley. Now we’re in an incredible mess, thanks to your imbecility combined with the cretin wits of Washington and Moscow.”
“Here, Parkinson, have a cup of coffee and calm down!”
“To hell with a cup of coffee. Listen to this. Let’s go back to the situation of 1958 before anybody had ever heard of the Cloud. You remember the arms race, with the U.S. and the Soviets competing furiously to see who could produce an intercontinental rocket first, all fitted up with hydrogen war heads of course? And as a scientist you’ll realize that to fire a rocket six or seven thousand miles from one point of the Earth’s surface to another is much the same problem as to fire a rocket right off the Earth altogether out into space.”
“Parkinson, you’re not trying to tell me …”
“I’m telling you that work in the U.S. and in Russia on this problem has advanced much farther than the British Government realized. We’ve only learned about it in the last day or two. We only learned of it when both the U.S. Government and the Soviets announced that they’ve fired off rockets, fired them at the Cloud.”
“The incredible fools. When did this happen?”
“Within the last week. Apparently there’s been an undercover competition that we knew nothing about. The U.S. has been trying to outdo the Soviets and vice versa of course. They’re reckoning to show each other what they can do, quite apart from killing the Cloud.”
“We’d better get Marlowe, Leicester, and Alexandrov along and see what we can manage to salvage from the wreck.”
McNeil happened to be talking to Marlowe, so he joined the group when they assembled. After Parkinson had gone over his story again Marlowe said:
“It’s happened. This is what I feared when I blew up at you the other day, Chris.”
“You mean you foresaw this?”
“Oh, not this exactly, so far as the details go. I’d no idea of how far they’d got with their miserable rockets. But I felt in my bones that something of this sort would happen. You see you’re too logical, Chris. You don’t understand people.”
“How many of these rockets have been sent?’ asked Leicester.
“As far as our information goes, upwards of a hundred from the U.S. and perhaps fifty or so from the Russians.”
“Well, I don’t see that it’s so important,” Leicester remarked. “The energy in a hundred hydrogen bombs may seem a lot to us, but it’s surely only microscopic compared to the energy in the Cloud. I should have thought that this
business is sillier than trying to kill a rhino with a tooth-pick.”
Parkinson shook his head.
“As I understand it, they’re not trying to blow the Cloud to pieces, they’re trying to poison it!”
“Poison it! How?”
“With radio-active materials. You heard the Cloud describe what could happen if radio-active materials penetrated its screen. They got all that from the Cloud’s own statements.”
“Yes, I suppose a few hundred tons of highly radio-active stuff might be a different story.”
“Radio-active particles start ionization in wrong place. Discharges, more ionization, and whole bloody works goes sky high,” said Alexandrov.
Kingsley nodded.
“The point goes back to the old business of us working on D.C. and the Cloud on A.C. To work an A.C. system high voltages are necessary. We don’t have high voltages in the body, and that’s of course why we’re obliged to work on D.C. But the Cloud must have high voltages in order to operate its A.C. communication over big distances. And if there are high voltages, a few electrified particles in the wrong places among insulating material can cause a devil of a mess, as Alexis says. Incidentally, Alexis, what’s your feeling about it all?”
The Russian was even briefer than was his usual wont.
“Don’t like,” he said.
“What about the Cloud screen? Won’t that prevent the stuff going through?’ Marlowe asked.
“I think that’s where the nasty part of the plan comes in,” Kingsley answered. “The screen probably works on gas, not on solids, so it won’t stop the rockets. And there won’t be any radiative material until they explode, and I expect the idea is that they won’t explode until they get through the screen.”
