Cascade Point and Other Stories Part 7

"Sixty hours. Maybe sixty-five."

Someone muttered a shocked obscenity. Carter felt his stomach trying to curl up and die. Sixty hours! His eyes swept the room of their own volition, as if looking for a way out, and finally came to rest on Kapoor's abnormally pale face.

The Indian had been right to be so gloomy, Carter thought, feeling strangely light- headed. It had been sheer folly to suppose mankind could tame even a tiny black hole. They might as well have tried to hitch a tiger to a plow....

With a physical effort Carter shook the vertigo from his mind. He couldn't afford to go to pieces. "All right," he said. "You all know what that means. I want some ideas and some solutions. For starters"-he looked at Mahler-"I want the spare DeVega set up as close to the accelerator ring as possible." He raised a hand as the other started to object. "I know, at that distance it won't help much. But we need anything we can get, and it may at least buy us some time. Punch some holes in the s.h.i.+elding and collector sphere to let the beam through."

"Right." Mahler scribbled a note. "I'll get a crew on it right now." Sliding his chair back, the engineer launched himself through the door.

"I'm calling a recess," Carter said to the others. "We'll meet back here in an hour."

Carter remained in his chair until the others had left, staring at the table as he gently kneaded his temples with his fingertips.

"You look tired. You'd better get some sleep."

Carter looked up in surprise. "I thought you'd left with the others, Senator."

Chou shook his head, his eyes never leaving Carters face. "I meant what I said about sleep, Doctor."

"Can't afford the time." He smiled wanly. "Why the sudden solicitude? I thought you didn't like me."

"My likes or dislikes are of complete unimportance," Chou replied. "If anyone can come up with the solution we need, it will probably be you, and we can't afford to let your intellect break down from fatigue."

Even to himself, Carter's laugh sounded hollow. "Some intellect. I wasted several badly needed hours with the iron atom fiasco, and d.a.m.n near lost our control of Firefly in the bargain. I tell you, Senator, if we're relying on me, we might as well quit now."

Chou was silent for a moment. "If we can't stop this, how long do we have?"

"Until the explosion? A year, probably. If our theory is right, that is; if it isn't I have no idea. Of course, Firefly will be far too hot to approach long before that."

"Dr. Carter... can we stop Firefly?"

Carter shook his head slowly. "I can't see any way to do it. No way at all. My G.o.d, Senator, what's going to happen to all those people?"

"We won't be able to evacuate them in time. Besides, where would they go?

Ceres and Hestia can't absorb any excess population. Maybe we can tow the s.p.a.ce Colonies out of Earth orbit into the asteroid belt; they should be able to survive out there." Chou shook his head, his face a mirror of horror and pain. "But Earth has no chance."

"No."

Chou looked up. Carter avoided his eyes. The blame is not yours, Doctor," the Senator said. "We-mankind's leaders-made the final decision on Firefly. Ours is the responsibility. Not that laying blame helps any." He sighed. "Ironic, isn't it?

For the past three centuries we have been continually worried about running out of energy, but now the final crisis arrives in the form of too much energy."

Something brushed the edge of Carters mind. "Say that last again, will you?"

"What? I just said our final crisis was too much energy, whereas in the past-"

"Too much. Too much." Suddenly the fatigue was gone, dislodged from his mind by a maelstrom of new thoughts and ideas. Fumbling out his intercom, he keyed for general 'cast. "This is Carter. All senior staff, report to conference immediately."

"Dr. Carter...?"

Carter glanced up and smiled slightly at the Senators uneasy expression.

"Don't worry, I haven't crossed my circuits; at least, not yet. You just reminded me that there are two sides to this problem and we've been ignoring one of them.

Excuse me now, I have to think."

He was still scribbling on a pad when the others arrived and took their places.

"All right," he said. "First of all, has anyone else come up with anything?"

No one spoke, but Carter could feel the drop in tension throughout the room as they realized there was a hidden promise in his question. "I don't guarantee this," he warned them, "but see what you think. So far we've been concentrating on getting more ma.s.s into Firefly. Maybe we can hit the problem from the other direction; namely, to decrease the density of the particle cloud that's keeping the neutrons out in the first place."

"But it's not like a real, stationary cloud," Rurik objected. "It's self- regenerating, more on the order of a bathtub with a faucet at one end and a drain at the other."

"Exactly. So we're going to enlarge the drain. What is the cloud composed of, gentlemen?"

"Subatomic particles," Galton said. "Positive and neutral, mostly."

"Right," Carter agreed. "Why no negative ones? Because the positive plates that hold Firefly itself in place rip away any negatives as soon as they're formed.

Conversely, the plates tend to keep the positives near Firefly. The neutrals don't care either way." He handed a sketch to Mahler. "Felix, I propose setting up a pair of negatively charged plates a few meters from Firefly and where they won't block the neutron beams. What I want is to set up an extra electric field that will pull the positive particles away from Firefly without risking moving the black hole itself.

Can it be done?"

Mahler frowned at the sketch for a moment. "It'll be tricky," he said. "Any extra charge near Firefly will change the field of the main plates. What we need is stable equilibrium right at Firefly's position and a small nonzero field a few angstroms away. We'll probably need curved electrodes of some kind; the computer can figure the shape for us."

"But be d.a.m.n careful with that field," Rurik spoke up. "The black hole has got to be at a stable equilibrium point or we'll lose it."

"I'll set up the programming myself," Mahler said, making notes beside Carter's sketch.

"Doc, what about the neutral particles?" Rossetti asked.

"I think we're stuck with them," Carter admitted. "But if we can decrease the density of positives even a little it may be enough." The excitement he had felt a few minutes before was wearing off and fatigue was beginning to pull at him. It was an effort to continue speaking. "If there are no further questions let's get to work. Felix, get those plates designed and built as soon as possible. The rest of you a.s.sist him or stay out of his way. That's all, then. Paul, I'll meet you in the control room in a few minutes."

Carter had intended only to rest his eyes for a moment before rejoining the others. It was with some shock, therefore, that he dragged himself from a nightmarish dream two hours later to find himself still sitting at the deserted conference-room table. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he pulled out his intercom. "Carter to control room," he said thickly.

"Rurik here, Ray.""What's going on up there? Why did you let me sleep this long?"

"We thought you needed the rest. The new electrodes have been made and tested, and Galton and Telemann have just about got them in place. There's nothing you need to do for at least a couple of more hours. Why don't you go back to sleep?"

"In a minute." Sleep was beginning to fog his brain again, but what he had to say was vital. "Paul, when they're finished out there I want you to set up those X- ray lasers to fire at Firefly."

"But the photons don't carry enough ma.s.s to make any real difference.

Remember?"

"Don't care about the ma.s.s. The X-ray photons will get trapped into orbits around Firefly, either spiraling in or being absorbed by particles in the cloud. Most of those particles will be neutrals, since we're pulling away the others. Any particle that absorbs a photon will gain its kinetic energy and momentum."

"I understand," Rurik nodded excitedly. "The neutrals will tend to move away from the black hole faster. Just like heating up a gas and making it expand, really."

"Right. I admit it'll be a small effect-Firefly's own X-ray output is heating up that particle cloud far more than our lasers could ever hope to-but it may be worth doing, anyway."

"Agreed. We'll get on that right away."

Deep in Carter's subconscious the decision was made that he had done all that he could and that Firefly's fete was now in the hands of the universe. He barely managed to turn off his intercom before he was once more deeply asleep.

It was another four hours before he again awoke. This time he had the strength to go to the control room. One look at the meters was enough. "We did it," he murmured, half to himself.

Rurik swiveled in his seat at the main board. "You're awake," he said unnecessarily. "Yes, thanks to you. Firefly's temperature is dropping steadily.

We've already cut the DeVegas back to safe flux levels, and will probably be able to shut off that extra field soon. Just as well, since the two electrodes are in pretty bad shape already from radiation damage."

"That reminds me. Did you tell me Galton was helping to install the new plates?"

Rurik lowered his eyes. "He insisted on going. I think he felt-well, responsible for the runaway.""He's an operator, not a tech," Carter growled. "He had no business going out there." He looked around the room. "Where is he, anyway?"

There was a long moment of silence. Then Rossetti spoke up quietly. "He and Telemann are both in intensive care, Doc. Severe radiation burns. They're not sure either will make it."

Carter stared at him, a cold fist squeezing his heart. "Oh, G.o.d. I never even thought of that."

"They knew the risk," Rurik said. "They also knew it had to be done."

"A high price to pay, but it bought the lives of Earths billions," Senator Chou added.

Carter turned to face him, anguish turning to unreasoning fury. "And I guess that's what matters to you, isn't it? That and closing down the Firefly Project. Well, you've got plenty of new ammunition now, don't you? So go ahead-tell the Council, hold your news conference, and get everyone screaming for the Project to be shut down. Then what are you going to do, demand we put as much ma.s.s as we can into Firefly and try to push it out of the system before it blows?-never mind that that's more dangerous than keeping it here."

He stopped, out of breath. In a quiet voice the Senator said, "The Council must be told, certainly. But there will be no news conference. The people of Earth must never know what almost happened."

The anger and frustration rising within Carter vanished at the unexpected answer. He stared hard at Chou, a dozen questions swarming through his mind.

Only one got out: "Why?"

"Because you were right, Doctor. I've spent some time in the last few hours studying the figures. Without Firefly Earth would spend nearly eight percent of its resources over the next four decades in building new energy supplies, and we just can't afford that. There are too many problems that will take our full attention to solve. Like it or not, we need Firefly." He waved toward the control board. "Oh, I will push strongly for more safety precautions-running Firefly at a lower temperature, for example. But you have proved that the black hole can be handled, with the right man in charge." He must have seen something in Carters face, for his eyes narrowed slightly. "You do want to stay, don't you?"

Carter turned toward the port, looking through it as if he could see through the s.h.i.+elding and collectors at the impossibly brilliant pinp.r.i.c.k in s.p.a.ce that was Firefly. Once he had seen it as a servant, even a friend. But it had turned on him once, and he would never again be able to look upon it without knowing the acrid taste of fear.

He took a deep breath. "I'll have to think about it," he said.

Afterword.

This one grew out of a series of five lectures on black holes given at the University of Illinois by a visiting astrophysicist in the spring of 1979. After filling a notebook with more facts, figures, numbers, and equations on black holes than any sane layman could possibly want or need, I figured the least I could do was to get a story out of it. Maybe more than one-I'll have to check those notes one of these days and see what else is lurking in there.

As a matter of historical interest, the black hole Firefly was originally named s.h.i.+va. Elinor Mavor, then editor of Amazing, asked me to change it to avoid comparisons (or confusion) with the Gregory Benford/William Rotsler novel s.h.i.+va Descending. I've never felt Firefly was as aesthetically pleasing a name as s.h.i.+va, but it was the best of the twenty-odd alternatives I came up with.

Writing, like politics, is often the art of compromise.

Return to the Fold

The tiny s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p was very definitely in trouble. Six enemy defiants were bearing down on it in a loose net pattern that Tomo knew was far more effective than it looked. Choosing one of the defiants at random, he kept his eye on it, control rod gripped tightly in his palm... and as the blue globe zigged he twisted the rod hard over, sending his s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p into a zag maneuver that ran it neatly up against the defiants side. Up against it at the required zero delta vee, in fact, and Tomo smiled briefly as the defiant vanished and his own s.h.i.+p grew another size.

One down, five to go, with his craft now a bigger and slower target.

"Tomo?"

"What is it, Max?" Tomo answered, his eyes still on the images darting around above his lounge chair.

"I've located a fault in my number-five close-approach antenna," the computer told him. "Nothing serious; just a bearing sh.e.l.l that needs replacing."

"And you want it done now, I suppose?" He sighed, the gesture more theatrical than serious. Max always waited until they were only days out from a s.p.a.ceport before checking the Goldenrod's docking equipment, and the s.h.i.+p's six mainters were well used to it by now. In theory, it could result in a mad rush if something major went bad, but in practice the odds against that were low enough to ignore. "All right. Freeze the game and give me a schematic. Flat will do."

The holographic game images froze in midair and then vanished as Tomo levered himself easily out of his chair. The Goldenrod was decelerating at about two-tenths gee, half of what he was used to. Setting his game stick down beside the main control ball, he watched as Max put a complex schematic onto the nearby viewer. The affected bearing flashed in red; tracing a curve on the control ball with his finger, Tomo had the view enlarge and rotate. He debated changing his mind and asking for a complete hologram, decided the bearing's orientation was clear enough from the flat. The data box beneath the schematic directed him to Level Four, access panel four-twenty-six. Stepping to the circular staircase, he picked up his tool belt from its holder and started down.

Level Four was an equipment deck, with the sort of floor plan that could only be approved by someone who'd never have to work there. It took Tomo three minutes to work his way back to panel twenty-six, two more to get the plate off, and two more after that to find a comfortable position to work in. "Has Maigre Port sent you our manifest and next destination yet?" he asked Max, prodding a bolt experimentally with his wrench.

"Yes," the computer answered. "The main items are bioelectronics and exotic foodstuffs; we'll be taking them to Canaan Under Vega."

"Tricky stuff, bioelectronics. Should be good for, what, a seven-day layover?"

"The port has scheduled us for eight point five. Is the number significant?"

"Well..." Tomo paused, wondering whether he ought to bring this up. It seemed like such a crazy idea, sometimes, even to him. Still, he was going to have to talk to someone about it, and Max at least wouldn't laugh at him. "Tell me about Maigre. What's it like?"

"The design is a common one: a rotating disk in equipoint orbit, with docking facilities-"

"No, not the s.p.a.ceport," Tomo interrupted. "I mean Maigre the planet."

"I'm not sure I understand the question. Do you want physical or sociopolitical data or something else entirely?"

"Oh, never mind." Tomo picked up another tool and got back to work. "I just... Actually, I've been thinking about maybe-well, maybe going dirtside this layover. Just to see what life on a planet is really like."

There was a short pause. "I see," Max said in a surprisingly neutral tone.

"Actually, I don't believe you'd like it. Conditions are vastly different than they are on the Goldenrod. There are large, open areas without walls or ceilings-"

"I know, I know-I've seen all the tapes. I just thought it might be...

interesting... to see it for real."