Destroyer of Worlds Part 32

"More specialized still," Sigmund said. "We need truly creative people. Unique people. Baedeker needs all the physics talent he can get. Will you recruit experts from Human s.p.a.ce?"

"You have people in mind. Who?"

"Beowulf Shaeffer and Carlos Wu." One an adventurer with an uncanny knack for survival, the other a certified genius.

Nessus twitched. He clearly remembered both men, too. (Sigmund wondered if the Puppeteer had ever heard the term loose cannon. loose cannon.) A head dipped lower and lower, finally dipping into a pocket of his sash. The visible head said, "No-"

And Sigmund found himself in a public square half a continent away.

54.

"Three ... two... one... now." Minerva scarcely paused. "Experiment complete."

"How long?" Baedeker asked.

Minerva, Baedeker's research a.s.sistant, craned a neck over his console. "One point oh four two three seconds."

Across Haven Haven's bridge, two human technicians cheered at finally breaking the one-second barrier. Baedeker scarcely spared them a disapproving glance. The Fleet would not escape the Pak in one-second spurts.

One of the Gw'oth sidled closer. Beneath the exoskeleton, its motors humming, and beneath the transparent pressure suit, peeked a name written in chromatophoric cells: Er'o. "We do make progress, Baedeker."

Baedeker straightened a bit of mane braid. He tired of hints about Er' o's contributions. Or about their their contributions, since Baedeker never knew when a Gw'o merely disclosed an insight of the group mind. Maybe if contributions, since Baedeker never knew when a Gw'o merely disclosed an insight of the group mind. Maybe if he he had been aboard had been aboard Don Quixote Don Quixote, and had had the same opportunity to closely observe the Outsider s.h.i.+p operating its drive ...

Baedeker tamped down his annoyance. For the sake of the Concordance, he needed help. Anyone's help. He bobbed heads, conceding Er' o's point.

Er'o needed no more encouragement. "Perhaps an extended experiment would give us more insight into the instability."

Minerva bleated disapproval. "We extend the experiments as quickly as we learn."

Er'o double-tapped the deck with a tubacle, the mannerism Baedeker had come to interpret as impatience. "We terminate the drive experiments prematurely. We could learn more."

That was insanity, and Baedeker yearned to flee. He settled for pawing the deck. "It does not disturb you that s.p.a.ce-time contorts around the drive?"

"We are trying trying to warp s.p.a.ce-time." Of necessity, everyone aboard communicated in English, but Er'o overlaid his with Citizen harmonics, rich with undertunes of smug superiority. "Without inducing a slope, we obtain no motion." to warp s.p.a.ce-time." Of necessity, everyone aboard communicated in English, but Er'o overlaid his with Citizen harmonics, rich with undertunes of smug superiority. "Without inducing a slope, we obtain no motion."

"A slope." Baedeker spread his hooves, made himself un unready to run, striving to exhibit as much confidence. "I wish we were producing a clean slope. Look at the data. As the drive loses stability, the 'slope' begins to fluctuate chaotically, even over quantum distances." Even chaos somehow failed to describe the rippling, writhing, b.u.mpy s.p.a.ce-time contour that reinvented itself by the femtosecond. "We stop because we must."

"Fluctuations superimposed on an emergent slope," Er'o insisted. "We see hints that the fluctuations are about to peak. There are patterns upon patterns of flux, and Kl'o expects we may soon observe interference patterns and thus cancellation."

"If we keep observing," one of the humans in the background muttered unnecessarily.

In theory, Baedeker was hindmost here. In practice, most of the team was New Terran. Even the Gw'oth present at the insistence of New Terra outnumbered the few Citizens. Baedeker had to keep their support. He had to show Nessus more progress.

And he had to do it, somehow, without getting anyone killed.

"How long would you run the experiment?" Baedeker asked.

"Until the drive stabilizes or self-destructs," Er'o said.

On trembling legs Baedeker began a slow ambit of the bridge, studying instruments and computer displays. Crew scurried out of his way. He scrutinized the details of the hyperwave-buoy placement. He confirmed the s.h.i.+p's position at twenty million miles from the icy rock now home to the latest prototype drive. He examined the final visualization-necessarily grossly oversimplified-of s.p.a.ce-time flux at the instant safeguards had terminated the most recent trial. He surveyed Haven Haven's own diagnostic panel and a.s.sured himself that every sensor, every triplicated system, every failover mechanism exhibited unimpaired capacity.

Er' o's proposed experiment could could be done. be done.

Baedeker completed his circuit, stopping near Er'o. "And would you agree to Haven Haven jumping to hypers.p.a.ce if the chaotic effects reach within ten million miles?" jumping to hypers.p.a.ce if the chaotic effects reach within ten million miles?"

Tap-tap. "Agreed," Er'o said.

Remotely deactivating the safety protocols on the prototype drive took only five minutes. Baedeker needed another five minutes, ostensibly spent reexamining sensor calibrations, to bring himself to give the order. All around, the humans whispered. "Start the countdown," he finally ordered.

Sixty-five seconds later, with half its bridge alarms screaming, Haven Haven flicked into hypers.p.a.ce. From a safer distance, Baedeker watched tier after tier of buoys drop from comm. flicked into hypers.p.a.ce. From a safer distance, Baedeker watched tier after tier of buoys drop from comm.

Nothing remained of the planetoid but a cloud of gas and dust, erupting at near light speed.

The disaster wasn't total. The drive had achieved thrust in the desired direction, although that nudge was nothing compared to the shattering effects-in every every direction-of the explosion. direction-of the explosion.

And Er'o, uncharacteristically, had no unsolicited advice to offer.

THE WORKSHOPS ABOARD Haven Haven hummed with activity. Someone was always refining circuitry for the next prototype drive or configuring additional sensors for the next test. Every new circuit and sensor required still more custom equipment for predeployment checkout. Custom items might be fabricated in one s.h.i.+pboard facility, tested in a second, integrated with other parts in a third, deployed in yet a fourth. Human, Citizen, and Gw'o alike: It made no difference. Anyone might be handling unfamiliar gear at any time, anywhere in the s.h.i.+p. hummed with activity. Someone was always refining circuitry for the next prototype drive or configuring additional sensors for the next test. Every new circuit and sensor required still more custom equipment for predeployment checkout. Custom items might be fabricated in one s.h.i.+pboard facility, tested in a second, integrated with other parts in a third, deployed in yet a fourth. Human, Citizen, and Gw'o alike: It made no difference. Anyone might be handling unfamiliar gear at any time, anywhere in the s.h.i.+p.

Hence few noticed, and no one gave a second thought to, the Gw'oth installing sensors about Haven Haven.

Sigmund would have noticed, Ol't'ro suspected, but Sigmund was not here. The paranoid human was far away, across a hyperwave link, reviewing project status. Neither Sigmund nor Baedeker knew the Gw'otesht could listen in.

"A second or two," Sigmund repeated. "And still only scale models. No one is going anywhere with drives like that."

"No one," Baedeker agreed. "If we can maintain this rate of progress, though, then maybe. In time."

"You don't sound optimistic," Sigmund said.

The technical challenges were familiar. The grudging credit for Gw'oth contributions was not new. Taking in everything, Ol't'ro attended more to nuance and tones of voice than to content. Baedeker had something on his mind.

Baedeker finally came out with it. "Sigmund, I a.s.sume Thssthfok can never be set free."

"He's seen too much of our technology. And he's so tanj smart, I'm afraid to think how much more he's deduced." Sigmund paused. "I don't feel good about it. Possibly, if the Pak veer, after they have pa.s.sed us by. But realistically, no."

"Then you'll understand my my concern," Baedeker said. "Ol't'ro cannot go home, either." concern," Baedeker said. "Ol't'ro cannot go home, either."

"It's not the same," Sigmund snapped. "The Gw'oth are our friends. Our allies. You wouldn't have made half the progress you have without them."

"How does that make them less dangerous?"

As Ol't'ro had feared, their contributions-essential for everyone's safety-were being turned against them. They listened dispiritedly as Baedeker and Sigmund debated, neither convincing the other.

Sigmund finally said, "I have other sources of information aboard Haven Haven. If anything unfortunate happens to the Gw'oth, anything anything, the New Terrans come home. That's a promise, Baedeker."

"All right," Baedeker said.

Into Baedeker's grudging tone, Ol't'ro read a mind still plotting.

"YOU DO WELL," Nessus said. His s.h.i.+p, Aegis Aegis, had emerged hours earlier from hypers.p.a.ce on yet another unannounced inspection of Baedeker's project. The two of them had withdrawn to Baedeker's cabin.

Another interruption was the last thing Baedeker needed, but the unexpected praise tempered his irritation. That, and practicality. The real real last thing he needed was the loss of Concordance support. Nessus' backing mattered. "Thank you," Baedeker said. last thing he needed was the loss of Concordance support. Nessus' backing mattered. "Thank you," Baedeker said.

Being hindmost had advantages. So did control of a large s.h.i.+p. Baedeker's cabin had lush meadowplant carpet, with room to wander when he chose to be alone and for large gatherings at other times, and a pantry filled with real gra.s.ses and grains. It also had an extensively programmed synthesizer, from which Nessus obtained a bulb of warm carrot juice.

"Net thrust and improved stability," Nessus began. "Truly, you have done well since my last visit. And yet ..."

Baedeker bobbed heads. "And yet we have very very far to go." far to go."

"What are your plans?"

"To better integrate efforts here and on NP5," Baedeker said. "Too many observations of the NP5 drive made no sense. Having operated our own drives"-however briefly-"I am beginning to understand what the sealed Outsider controls must do. It no longer seems impossible to run their drives a bit harder."

Nessus raised his heads optimistically. "Can you run drives in tandem?"

A digital herd meandered in a nearby arc of wall. Fields of tall grain rippled in the simulated breeze. Baedeker took a moment to adjust the image. "Nothing we have seen contradicts Twenty-three's warning to Sigmund."

"That is unfortunate," Nessus said.

They stood watching the idyllic scene, Baedeker wondering what he could add to that.

"You will succeed," Nessus finally said. "And when you do, much will become possible for you."

Baedeker blinked. "What do you mean?"

"The Hindmost will be in your debt. Have you given thought to the path you will take then?"

Stress and exhaustion filled Baedeker's waking hours, the weight of worlds heavy on his shoulders. "Truthfully, no."

Nessus edged closer, brus.h.i.+ng flanks intimately. "I am not without influence. You have it within your grasp to have a great future. If you were to express an interest in government and show some hints of sympathy with Experimentalist policy..."

Then opportunities would come Baedeker's way. Was he interested? Maybe-if not for the reasons Nessus might suspect. Baedeker temporized. "What sort of interest in government?"

"Something in the Ministry of Science, perhaps." Nessus swiveled his heads to gauge Baedeker's reaction. "Something very well positioned."

Such as Minister of Science? To direct science policy for the Concordance would be no small thing. Baedeker felt tempted and terrified in equal measure. But there was an element of temptation Nessus could not have antic.i.p.ated.

With government authority might come action against the Gw'oth threat.

55.

The kids were bathed and changed for bed, and Penny's uncle Sven had come over to watch them. Neither ecological nor existential threats showed any signs of worsening overnight. Prison sensors showed Thssthfok was soundly asleep. Circ.u.mstances would never get better.

Sigmund offered Penelope his arm. They went outside to stroll to a nearby restaurant. Master chef, all-natural ingredients, live band, the works. And, in unison, they yawned.

He had to laugh. "Going to be quite the night on the town."

"I'm sorry," she said, covering another yawn. "Just a lot going on."

The cloudless night sky was bleeding away the day's heat, putting a nip in the air. Stars sparkled overhead. Sigmund tried and failed to imagine a big moon hanging overhead. He thought he remembered that the full moon was romantic.

A lot was was going on. All the more reason to enjoy what they had, while they still had it, and they were long overdue for a romantic evening. He leaned over and kissed Penny's hair. "I won't notice you yawn if you return the favor." going on. All the more reason to enjoy what they had, while they still had it, and they were long overdue for a romantic evening. He leaned over and kissed Penny's hair. "I won't notice you yawn if you return the favor."

"Deal."

They made another deal over hors d'ouevres not to talk about the kids. Without erecting an electronic privacy barrier, neither of them could talk about work. And so, insanely, the conversation lagged. What had they talked about-before?

They managed to discuss entree options. Penny patted his hand. "This is ridiculous, Sigmund. We don't need to chatter. It's all right simply to enjoy each other's company."

"I know." He didn't see this being a long evening.

They lapsed into uncomfortable silence, pretending this was a normal night out and that the end of the world wasn't rus.h.i.+ng their way. Occasionally one of them would compliment the food, which deserved it, or the musicians, who didn't. The evening became more and more ...

Sigmund couldn't quite put his finger on it. The evening was-what? Familiar? Hardly. Well deserved. Strained. Overshadowed by the overwhelming problems they had vowed to leave at home but he couldn't banish from his mind.

Tideless oceans. Moonless nights. Sigmund didn't see New Terra obtaining a moon anytime soon. Implacable enemies. Progress measured in nanoseconds.

He must have been muttering to himself, because Penny asked, "What's Rome?"

"It's a city on Earth."

Rome. The Eternal City. An ancient, ruined coliseum. The mental image of a boot. Something about roads. Earth's landscape had roads, mostly in disuse, made obsolete by antigrav floaters and transfer booths. What about about roads? New Terra didn't have them, its infrastructure designed from the start for stepping discs and gravity floaters. What about roads? roads? New Terra didn't have them, its infrastructure designed from the start for stepping discs and gravity floaters. What about roads?

Penny was frowning at him. He said, "I don't know, only that all roads lead ..."

All roads lead to Rome. Just as everything on Sigmund's mind led to Baedeker.