Child of Venus (41 page)

Mahala heard Solveig let out her breath. Here it comes, Mahala thought, unable to guess at what Masud al-Tikriti would say.

“Our first announcement,” the Administrator said, “is to assure you that the Habitat-dwellers will assist us in the construction of four new domed settlements in the Akna Mountains to the west of the Maxwell Mountains and the Lakshmi Plateau. Even though our engineers no longer consider it necessary, given the slow but steady decrease in the atmospheric pressure of Venus, these domes and their installations will be built to the same specifications as those already on the surface.”

That was no surprise, Mahala thought. An announcement of that sort had been expected before much longer, and making it clear that the new domes would be exactly like the others was a concession to those who might otherwise assume that the Project was skimping on safety measures.

“Our next announcement,” Administrator Masud went on, “is that the Habbers have agreed to assist us in a new procedure that promises to speed up the rate at which the Cyther-ian atmosphere will precipitate into surface solids—in other words, will provide the means to turn more of the carbon dioxide present in the atmosphere into surface minerals.”

“That's a simplified way of putting it,” Solveig whispered.

“The Habbers propose to attempt this,” Masud said, “by setting up a mining operation on Mercury, since that planet has the minerals required for the production of the needed quantities of calcium and magnesium.” Mahala tensed, thinking of her last days on Island Two, when she and other students had discussed such a process. “They will do this with the aid of their cyberminds and machine replicating systems—no human miners or workers will be needed on the surface of Mercury or even near that planet. The magnesium and calcium ingots produced on Mercury will be hurled toward Venus from electromagnetic mass drivers. Even with all of the resources of the Project Council and Earth, it is unlikely that we could have undertaken an operation on that scale in the near future by ourselves.”

Mahala glanced at Solveig and Dyami. Masud al-Tikriti had been unusually frank about their dependence on assistance from the Habbers, but had still not said anything that should cause any unrest among Cytherians, as her uncle had feared. There had to be more to his announcement.

“This new stage of the Project,” the Administrator said, “impressive as it is, will be only one effort to mark a new era of cooperation among the peoples of Earth, Venus, and the Habitats.” He was silent for a few moments, as if to be certain that he had the full attention of all of those listening to him. “Another venture lies ahead, perhaps the most important task our species has yet had to undertake, one in which all of us will have a part to play, however small, a venture that a few of you, God willing, may live to see through to its hoped-for end.”

Mahala held her breath, unable to imagine what he might say now.

“For some time now, the Habbers have not only ventured into the more distant reaches of our solar system but have also turned their sights to what lies beyond its bounds. In their Habitats, they have traveled only as far as Saturn's orbital path, but their probes have traveled to the Oort Cloud of comets that lies in the outermost regions of our system.” Masud leaned forward and an expression crossed his face that might have been either hope or fear. “We have known that much for some time. What we did not know is that we are not alone in the universe. Another civilization has raised a beacon, another race has called out to us across the light-years.”

The Administrator went on to speak of the signal that had come from six hundred light-years away, to be picked up by a Habber observatory. When the Habbers had concluded that it was indeed a signal from another intelligence, they had debated among themselves about what to do, but had decided that they would have to share this news with the rest of humankind as soon as possible.

Mahala listened, feeling the dilemmas and difficulties of her life suddenly contracting into an insignificant point as her mind raced toward something much greater.

“The Habbers are asking that both Earthfolk and Cytheri-ans now join them in the exploration of space,” Masud continued. “They propose to build a Habitat that will be not only a community but a voyager, a Habitat that will move across the vast interstellar distance to this alien beacon. The Habbers might have undertaken such a great voyage by themselves, but it is their wish that we join them, that people from both Earth and Venus accompany them on this journey. We have, all of us, been looking inside ourselves for too long. It is time, and long past time, that we look outward again.”

Fingers closed around Mahala's arm. “I can't believe it,” Solveig said, tightening her grip. “I didn't dare imagine that anything like this could happen.”

Masud al-Tikriti fell silent for so long that Mahala wondered if he might be listening to some prompting from his Link. “Let me be clear about this,” he said in a lower voice, “so that there will be no misunderstanding. The time of animosity and mistrust among the inhabitants of this solar system is now past. The Council of Mukhtars, the Project Council, the Administrators of the Islands and the Councilors in the settlements, and the Habbers who speak for their people—all of us must become the representatives of a united humankind.”

Mahala waited, expecting him to say more, even though there was little more he could say that would add anything to what he had already said.

“More details will be forthcoming later on,” Masud said, “about the plans for mining and refining operations on Mercury and for the proposed space vessel, but for now, I urge all of you to ponder what you have heard and to look forward to a new era in our history. My thoughts and prayers are with us all.”

The image of Masud vanished; the screen winked out.

“Six hundred light-years,” Solveig said. “Do the Habbers actually think it's possible for us to go that far in any reasonable time?”

“Obviously they do,” Dyami said. He wore the same mixture of expressions Mahala had seen on Masud al-Tikriti's face: the joy and the hope and the fear and uncertainty. “They were able to increase the rotation of Venus with gravitational pulses almost a century ago. I think they're capable of designing a drive that can carry a vessel across interstellar space.”

“Maybe they've already done so,” Solveig said.

“Maybe,” Dyami murmured.

Everything would change, Mahala thought; everything was going to be different. Hope flared within her before doubts assailed her again. Would this mean a new era of cooperation and peace, or would these new developments only fuel suspicion and distrust? Plans for an ambitious interstellar voyage might rouse people to greater efforts at cooperation, but they might also distract people from the problems of the discontented on Earth, and from the efforts that were still needed to transform Venus.

Now she understood why Dyami had been so worried about how their fellow Cytherians might react to this great change. Administrator Masud had emphasized that the Project would go on, that the effort to terraform Venus would not be neglected. But many would now be wondering if their dream might yet be abandoned and that this new project, intentionally or not, might lead them to that abandonment.

 

18

Two days after Masud al-Tikriti's announcement, Mukhtar Tabib al-Tahir gave a brief speech on all of the public channels. The few Guardians remaining on the Islands would be reassigned to duty on Anwara. Those who wished to remain as settlers on the surface of Venus would be allowed to resign from the Guardian forces and travel to the domes to stay, subject to the approval of each settlement's Council.

This was yet another sign that a new era of cooperation was at hand, according to the Mukhtar. But to Mahala it seemed that Mukhtar Tabib was also trying to call people back to more immediate concerns. The preparations for a voyage to a distant star where an alien civilization would reveal itself would inspire all of humankind and lead to even greater accomplishments. Yet the realization of that hope lay far in the future, seeming to be as far away as the transformation of Venus into a green and growing world.

To travel to a star system six hundred light-years away, as Solveig had explained to the excited and curious children whom she was now teaching, meant going to a place from where it took light six hundred years to reach the solar system. “After making that elementary point,” Solveig continued, “I decided that an educational mind-tour would do better at presenting the paradoxes of time dilation at relativistic speeds than I could. After that, they really got excited. You mean time will slow down for the people if they're traveling at close to the speed of light? You mean only a few years will go by for them while a whole lot of years pass here? That was our lesson for the day—they weren't interested in anything else.”

Mahala was silent as she walked with her friend, thinking of the challenges the journey would present. To get to the nearer stars would have been difficult enough, but to aim for a star system six hundred light-years away—it was enough to make her wonder if they were overreaching themselves. But the effort, whatever it took, would help to bring about the new era Mukhtar Tabib had evoked, an era of change and renewal for all of humankind. There was also the promise of what awaited them in that distant star system: contact with a nonhuman culture, an alien intelligence. In the meantime, they possessed the precious and certain knowledge that they were not alone in the universe.

“I've had time to think,” Solveig said, “and I still can't get over my astonishment. Even so, Mukhtar Tabib almost made me wonder if some people are having doubts about the Venus Project. It's as if he's trying to say that even if we fail here, we might succeed somewhere else eventually.”

“It's much too soon to assume that the Project might fail,” Mahala said.

“It still won't hurt to have something else to inspire us,” Solveig murmured, “and keep us under control—another great venture to keep us occupied.”

“You're sounding more cynical.”

“That's not what I meant, Mahala. I do feel more inspired. There's finally something more for me to look forward to than making the best of my life here. Now I can hope that maybe I'll actually have a chance to be chosen as one of the spacefarers. It's a slim chance, but better than no chance at all.”

“Yes,” Mahala said, knowing that the same ambition was growing inside her.

“Of course that'll just make it even harder later on if I'm not chosen.”

Maybe Solveig was thinking that someone who was subject to her dark moods would not be considered suitable for such a voyage. “I wouldn't worry about that now,” Mahala said. “We don't know anything about what sorts of people might be chosen, only that they'll come from Earth, Venus, and the Habitats.”

“And more specialists in astronomy and astrophysics will be needed now. Maybe I'll be able to go back to the Islands and finish my studies.”

They had followed the creek to the lake. More people were out, walking near the wooded slopes or sitting in groups on the shore. The day after Administrator Masud's announcement, Mahala had reported to Tasida as scheduled, and the two had gone to the house of Tasida's pregnant patient, who had gone into labor at first light. Mahala had noticed how few people were out, how many seemed to be keeping close to their homes.

During the past days, people had resumed their usual activities. On the surface, life in Turing, and presumably in the other settlements, was going on as it had. Work in the external operations centers and maintaining life support were not tasks that could be postponed, while crops in the greenhouses still had to be tended and harvested and airships checked and repaired. The night after Masud's announcement, it was rumored that one group of people had gathered in Turing's Buddhist temple and another group at the mosque to discuss the Administrator's statement and all of its implications, and Risa had called with a tale of people in Oberg demanding a meeting with their elected Councilors.

But there had been no disturbances, nothing that indicated that any of the Cytherians were overly nervous or fearful of what might happen now. Surely the Guardians would not be leaving the Islands if the Administrative Council had expected any serious trouble.

Even so, it seemed to Mahala that the people around her were only going through the motions of normality, that their usual routines might only be a way of keeping their new concerns at bay. She suspected that most of them were also gathering to talk to friends or engaging in long discussions over all available channels with people they knew in other settlements. Risa had called three times already in the past couple of days to tell Dyami and Mahala the latest speculations among the members of her household, while Einar and Thorunn had followed an hour-long call to Solveig with several messages.

Benzi, however, had remained silent. He had been involved in the meetings that had led up to Masud's announcement; that much she knew. She did not know exactly when he had found out about the alien signal, but suspected that he had learned of it at least two years ago, when the Habbers had finally determined that it was the product of another intelligence. Now she wondered how great a role he might have played in recent events.

Mahala gazed out at the lake. “I got a message from Ragnar before,” Solveig said. “He says that Frani's going to be back on pilot duty in three days. He's working darktime shifts and spending his free time on a sculpture of her.”

“Didn't he say anything about everything else that's going on?”

“No. He's got his bondmate and his work and his art, and he doesn't pay much attention to anything else. If I didn't know better, I'd almost think he hadn't even heard the announcement.”

“Mahala!” Someone was calling from farther up the hill. “Mahala!”