Zimmermann turned to usher them in the direction of the far door of the antechamber. "First I must show you where the bar is and join you in a welcoming drink . . . just to keep our priorities correct. Don't worry about your baggage and so on; that will be taken care of. After that, we will show you to the living quarters so that you can clean up, settle in, and rest if you wish. I would like to suggest that we dine together later, in the main dining room at 2300 hours . . . in case you haven't got used to the local time yet, that's just over three hours from now. After that, I would be pleased to take you on a tour of the base and observatories. I warn you, it's a bit of a rabbit-warren underground, and newcomers here tend to be confused at first, but I've no doubt that you will get used to it."
He stopped and looked down at the sign that had been positioned across the doorway to which their tortuous route had by that time brought them.
"Oh, dear—it appears that we cannot get through this way. The tunnel is temporarily out of use for maintenance." He sighed. "We will have to go back a little way, up and across into the next dome through the interconnecting tube on the surface. I am sorry about this. . . . This way . . ."
As they emerged from the access lock of the tube and entered the dome, Zimmermann called them over to a viewing port in the outside wall. From it they were able to see the limit to which the surface constructions extended on one side of the base. The professor pointed to the bare tract of dust and boulders that lay beyond.
"That is where you will be working," he said. "The area has been surveyed and we have completed preliminary designs for three additional domes to house the new laboratories. Initially they will all extend five levels down below the surface and be connected into the main complex, of course. The new GRASER will be built below the largest of them . . . roughly halfway between that prominent crater and that group of boulders . . . and the BIACs and associated equipment will be next door, about fifty yards to the left. The third is really for storage space at this stage; it will be useful should you require room to expand later."
"It sounds just great," Clifford said admiringly. "I think we're going to enjoy being part of your team here."
"I am sure that I am going to enjoy having you on the team," Zimmermann replied. "You will also be pleased to learn that headquarters has now signed firm contracts, and the initial shipments of materials to begin construction should arrive within two months."
Five minutes later, below ground level again, they settled themselves down around a table in the corner of the room that doubled as bar and informal social center for the base. It had a warm, friendly atmosphere enhanced by the background of piped music and the murmur of conversation from the dozen or so other persons already there. Zimmermann cast an eye around him as he sat down with a small tray of drinks and passed them around.
"I won't bother you with any introductions for now," he said. "There will be plenty of time for that later." He sat back and raised his glass. "And now, my friends, to what shall we drink? A successful partnership, I suppose . . ."
They responded.
"One word of advice," he said as they drank. "Take it easy with alcohol until you've had time to become acclimated. The gravity here can do strange things . . . I suppose it's a case of being light-headed before you start . . . literally."
Clifford started to laugh. "Hey—I nearly forgot—Al and Nancy asked me to give you their regards. Al says he's sorry that they left things too late for them to make the same launch that we did, but they're all set for next month's."
"Yes, I know about that," Zimmermann nodded with a smile. "I understand that he found Nancy difficult to persuade."
"Aw, she'll be okay," Aub tossed in. "Especially with Sarah around; they get along fine. She just likes living next to that lake too much. That's all."
"Al's going off into the realms of science fiction," Clifford said. Zimmermann raised his eyes toward the ceiling.
"Is he really . . . ? What is it this time?"
"He's gotten all hooked up on the idea of beaming energy through hi-space. He figures that one day it'll be the way that energy will be piped to wherever it's needed, all over the Solar System . . . anywhere. He's got this picture of some enormous distribution network being fed from great big artificial black holes millions of miles out in space."
"Good lord . . ."
"He says it'll be the only way to power spaceships one day, too," Aub added. "Why should they bother carting their own energy around with them when they can have as much as they like beamed right at them wherever they want to go?"
"Well, I must say it will be entertaining to have Al with us," Zimmermann grinned. "I only hope that he doesn't start redesigning everything in sight the minute he arrives. What about you, Brad? What plans do you have until the new labs begin to take shape? It's going to be some time, you know."
"Oh, I'll be busy enough all right. I've got a year's lost time to make up, don't forget . . . on account of . . ." his face twisted into a crooked smile, "a certain minor matter that needed attending to. The main thing I want to do is pick up where I left things with you and your astronomers here. They're pretty keen to get to grips with that Wave Model that we started to talk about once. They've been carrying out a lot of observations over the last year, as you know, and one thing I have to do is get involved again and updated." He stopped and thought for a second. "In fact, I've been thinking ever since you mentioned that third dome you're planning . . . we're gonna need to build a specialized long-range detector system for studying cosmological k-data—a k-telescope, if you like. If you're not planning on using that dome for anything in particular for now, it sure would be a good place to consider putting it."
Zimmermann scratched his nose and grinned mischievously.
"As a matter of fact, strictly between ourselves, that was exactly what I had in mind. It's just that I haven't . . . ah, shall we say . . . quite gotten round to telling Geneva about it yet." He added hastily: "But I'm sure they will agree it's an excellent idea. I just think it would be better if the dome were actually there before I raise the matter. It keeps things simple, you understand. . . ."
"I understand too well," Sarah said. "If I ever saw three conspirators in league together . . . I'm beginning to wonder what I've let myself in for."
Aub had been staring far into space for the last minute or so. He returned suddenly and regarded them with a curious look, his head cocked to one side.
"You know, I've been thinking about something on and off for the last coupla months, too. It's to do with the way the GRASER modulators initiate the particle annihilations."
The others looked at him, waiting expectantly. "Well, the method that Al uses concentrates everything at one point in space," he continued. "That's what produces the intense spacetime distortion and gives you a simulated gravity effect . . . which, taken to the limit, gives you a black hole. It makes sense he should do it that way, since that's the kind of thing he was investigating in the first place. Sudbury is a gravitational-physics Institute."
"Great," Clifford conceded. "Al's methods make sense. Nice to hear it. What's new?"
"Al's way is fine for what he set out to do, sure, but I figure there's another way you could do it. I figure it would be possible to set up a distributed modulation and annihilation pattern that would take in a defined volume of space . . . and you wouldn't be talking about gravity intensities anywhere near like what you get around black holes, anywhere inside it. In other words, you'd be able to initiate the annihilation of a piece of matter . . . an object . . . not just of a focused particle beam."
"Why should you want to do that?" Clifford asked him, looking nonplused.
"Oh, all sorts of reasons . . . like, it would be a quick and easy way to excavate the holes under those new domes you were talking about, for instance. You just blow away all the rock you don't need into hi-space. But that really wasn't the point. The thing I had in mind was something more."
"Like what?"
Aub's expression took on
a shade of earnestness.
"Well, this might sound way-out, but I can't see why it couldn't work. You know how the J-bomb director modulators focus all the hi-radiation on one selected target point. Well, I reckon that they could define a distributed pattern in space too, instead of just one point . . . in the same way that the annihilator modulators could."
Clifford screwed up his face and glanced at Zimmermann, then back at Aub.
"Still don't get what you're driving at."
"You could synchronize them both together!" Aub exclaimed, gesticulating excitedly. "It would enable you to project a piece of structured matter instead of simply a focused charge of energy. You'd be able to annihilate an object at one place in space and instantly reconstitute it, intact, somewhere else! That's what I'm driving at."
"You're crazy," Clifford told him. "I thought Al's science fiction was bad enough. This is science fairyland."
"I just can't see any reason why it couldn't work," Aub insisted. He looked appealingly at Sarah. She shrugged and pulled a face.
"Don't ask me. Sounds crazy."
"It's not crazy," Aub declared emphatically. "I tell you, it'd work."
"I hate to say it," Zimmermann joined in, "but while I have seen some examples of your unusual inventive abilities in the past, I do feel that what you are saying now is somewhat far-fetched. I am afraid that, were you approaching me as a potential investor, I would not for one moment consider putting any of my money into it."
"It's the drink," Clifford decided. "The gravity's getting to you already."
"Never you mind them, Aub," Sarah said soothingly. "I've changed my mind. If those two are ganging up on you, I'll come over to your side. I believe it will work."
"There you are," Aub retorted. He thrust out his bearded chin in an attitude of proud defiance. "I've got one convert already. I'm telling you—it'll work."
"Very well," Zimmermann raised a hand to quell the issue, "I have no wish for us to fall out so soon. We shall no doubt find out in good time." His eyes were nevertheless still twinkling with amused disbelief. "In the meantime, however, I insist upon getting you all another drink."
Epilogue
Bornos Karenski settled back into his seat and closed his eyes while he pictured the life awaiting him and his family in what was to become their new home. There was so much land there and so few inhabitants that they grew and ate fresh food—grown in the soil itself. And they reared stocks of animals that they allowed to roam free . . . all over the sun-drenched meadows of open hills that tumbled down under their necklaces of silver streams all the way from the mountains. And what mountains! And the sizes of the trees in those forests!
He'd seen it all in the holomoviegrams that the immigration agency had shown them. And so keen was the government there to attract new immigrants that they had not only paid half the fare for the whole family, they had subsidized his purchase of the land to the tune of 70 percent and granted him a twenty-year, interest-free loan to cover the building of his new home and the provision of machinery and other equipment. His savings had bought him over two thousand acres with plenty set aside for contingencies. There would be no more claustrophobia in computerized, plasticized, conglomerized antiseptic cities now . . . no more rounds of garish parties designed as the last vain attempt to relieve the boredom of garish people . . . no more of the mass hysteria of screaming people packed in by the thousands into sports stadiums . . . no more drug-assisted going to sleep, drug-assisted waking up again, and drug-assisted everything else that went on in between.
Bornos Karenski was going to go back to living the life of health, honest hard work, and contentment that had once been the right of every man to follow if he so chose—the life that he had always dreamed of.
A sudden voice filled the huge volume of passenger cabin 3 on C deck and brought him out of his reverie.
"Hello, ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain speaking again.
"Well, while you were having your lunch we've been gaining speed and covering quite a lot of distance. We're well over a million miles from Earth now and have been under normal gravitic-drive acceleration all the time, which is why you will have been unaware of any sensation of movement.
"The power beam from Jupiter has been following us all the way and charging up our on-board boosters, and we're now into a region of sufficiently low gravity gradient to switch over to Philipsz Drive. Transfer into the system of Sirius will only take a second, but the process can induce a mild feeling of giddiness and we strongly recommend passengers to take their seats. Would all cabin staff now remain seated at their stations, too, please.
"When we exit from Philipsz Drive, passengers will be able to see Sirius A on the forward viewscreens in all cabins. Its companion star, Sirius B, will be partially eclipsed from our point of re-entry into normal space, but will be visible above and slightly to the right of the primary when we darken down the screens a little.
"Well, we're going to be pretty busy for a while now here in the control center, so I'm going to have to cut out. I hope you all have a pleasant trip. When I next speak to you, we will be eight-point-seven light-years from where we are now. Latest indications are that we should arrive at the planet Miranda on schedule, eight hours after re-entry.
"That's all. Thank you."
Signs illuminated in various parts of the cabin to announce:
TRANSFER TO PHILIPSZ DRIVE IMMINENT—
PLEASE BE SEATED
"Why do they call it such a funny name?" ten-year-old Tina Karenski asked from the seat next to him.
"Oh, well now," he replied, turning to look down at her. "That was the name of a very famous scientist who died a long time ago—long before you were born."
"Why do they give it his name? Did he invent it?"
"Not exactly, but he was the first man to discover how to make it work. He proved by what are called experiments that it was possible."
"How dumb can you get?" her twelve-year-old brother asked scornfully from the next seat. "Everybody's heard of Aubrey Philipsz. He was the friend of Bradley Clifford—the most famous scientist ever."
"Of course I've heard of Clifford," Tina retorted pertly. "He was the man who stopped everybody in the world from going crazy once. That's right, isn't it, Mommy?" She directed the last question at Maria Karenski, who was sitting on the far side of her brother.
"Yes, that's right, dear. That's enough questions for now. Look at your Sun on the screen there. You may not see it again for a long time."
Tina considered the suggestion.
"Won't there be any sun in Miranda then?" she asked as the awful implication dawned on her.
"Yes, of course there will, but it will be a different one."
"She's just dumb."
"Don't say things like that."
Suddenly the view on the screen seemed to flicker, and then it had changed. The sun that dominated the scene had moved to one side; it was larger and more brilliant than the one that had been there an instant before. And the background of stars had altered subtly. A chorus of oohs and ahs came from all parts of the cabin of the mile-long ship.
"My head feels funny," Tina said. "What happened?"
"It's nothing to worry about, dear," her mother replied. "Look there; that's your new sun."
Tina gazed for a while at the new image on the screen, eventually arriving, by the irrefutable logic of her years, at the undeniable conclusion that a sun was a sun was a sun. . . . Her mind turned to other things and she looked back again at her father.
"How did Bradley Clifford stop everybody from going crazy?" she asked.
Bornos sighed, smiled, and rubbed his brow.
"Oh, now, that's a little difficult to explain. He set up what was probably the biggest hoax ever in history."
"What's a hoax?"
"You'll learn all about it at your new school," her mother interrupted. "I think your daddy would like a rest now. Look—the signs have gone out. They'll be putting on more movies downstairs in a minut
e. How would you like to go and watch them?"
The two children squeezed out between the seats and disappeared along the aisle. Bornos was just settling back to resume his daydreams when his wife asked: "Was it all a hoax, I wonder?"
"Not all of it," he told her. "The J-bomb was supposed to be able to fire only at places inside the territories of the Western allies of the time . . . to make it purely defensive. That was certainly true; they tried to fire it at tests targets in Siberia and places like that, but it wouldn't work."
"And the rest of it?"
"Well," he said, rubbing his chin. "That's the mystery. Everybody believed for over a century that if they allowed the machine to lose power it would destroy places in America, and if anybody else on Earth built a similar machine, then it would be destroyed too. But lots of people say that this was just bluff to stop the world from rearming. If it was, it certainly worked. . . ."
She thought to herself for a while. "I must say, it doesn't really sound like the kind of person you imagine Clifford as being . . . I mean . . . setting up a gigantic booby trap that could have killed lots of people . . . innocent people probably. It just doesn't sound like him at all."
"That's exactly why lots of people believe that part of it was a hoax," Bornos answered. "There was something funny about the whole thing anyway. The people who were actually there at Brunnermont on the day that the machine deactivated would never talk about what they learned. I'm pretty sure, though, that they'd have known. I'm sure it would have printed out something just before it switched itself off after all those years. . . ."
"Anyway, it doesn't really matter now," his wife declared. "The main thing is that neither the East nor the West were prepared to go to all the trouble and expense of testing it. They believed everything they were supposed to and they did everything they were supposed to. That's what matters."
"Absolutely right," he agreed readily. "It makes no difference now. How much of it was true and how much of it wasn't is something that I don't suppose anyone will ever know for sure now."
The Genesis Machine Page 28
