Spinneret (2 page)

“Captain!” the man at the radar shouted suddenly. “Something approaching from astern—”

The main vision screen flashed with light as something with a fiery tail shot over the
Celeritas
and vanished far ahead. “What the
hell!
” First Officer Blake gasped. “That was a bloody
missile.
”

“Backtrack it,” Korczak snapped. “I want to know where it came from.”

“Got it, sir. Bearing down on us from—”

The chair slammed hard into Korczak's spine and a dull roar rattled his teeth. “Shift, Civardi!” he managed. “Get us out of here!”

And, for a miracle, the equipment worked. Safe in the blackness of hyperspace, the
Celeritas
limped toward home.

“I don't believe it.” President John Kennedy Allerton shook his head, laying down the report. “Fifteen reasonably Earthlike worlds, and
every
one already occupied?”

General James Klein shrugged. “I agree it's pretty hard to swallow, but the
Pathfinders
alms can't be argued with. He hesitated. “I've also heard that the ESA's
Celeritas
showed signs of damage when it got back early this morning, so I'd guess they ran into them, too.”

Allerton pursed his lips tightly. “If that's true we'll want an immediate meeting to compare notes. Probably better bring the Soviets and Chinese in on it, too. An alien race hemming us in on all sides isn't something we can afford to play politics with. I suppose we should tell the UN, too.”

Admiral Davis Hamill snorted. “The Russians won't believe a word of it, at least not until they get their own firsthand data, and Chinese security is so lax these days that if we tell
them,
we might as well broadcast it to the Islamic Confederation and the Africans. I can just hear what
they'd
say.”

Allerton smiled faintly. “You take the tirades at the UN too seriously, Dave. The Third World may think we're the cause of all their problems, but there's really no way they can blame Project Homestead's failure on us.”

“They can blame us for alerting the aliens that we're here, though,” Klein pointed out.

“Oh, come on—they surely already know we're here. They
surround
us, for heaven's sake. If they wanted to fight they would've moved in years ago.”

“What about the
Celeritas
?” Klein objected.

“What about the
Pathfinder
? The aliens let
them
go.”

Klein's rejoinder was lost in the simultaneous buzz of all three men's phones. Twisting his wrist to point the directional speaker at his face, Allerton clicked the switch. “Allerton.”

“Situation room,” a tense voice answered. “Sir, we've picked up a flash of light from a point near Mars orbit. We think it's a star ship … except that the flash was red, not blue-white.”

Allerton looked up to meet Klein's and Hamill's hardening expressions. The shift flash represented wasted energy … and the lower-energy red burst meant the newcomer had a drive far more advanced than anything on Earth. “Full military alert,” the President ordered quietly. “Worldwide. Prepare for possible invasion. I'll be down there shortly to take charge.” He signed off. The two military men, still talking into their own phones, were already heading for the door. Thumbing the White House operator, Allerton got to his feet and followed. “Get me the Kremlin, Chinese Premier Sing, and UN Secretary-General Saleh—conference call, scramble, and rush it.”

The long star ship drifted delicately into high Earth orbit shortly afterward, stifling the Soviets' official disbelief and touching off near-panic all across the globe. But the end of the world didn't come on the anticipated schedule. Instead, the alien briefly blanketed the airline radio frequencies with a message, in passable English, requesting a conversation with Earth's leadership.

Considering the norm of international politics, the response to that call was remarkably swift.

“… We welcome you on behalf of the Security Council, the United Nations, and the entire Earth. We look forward to the mutual exchange of knowledge and culture, and to a growth of true friendship between our peoples.”

Secretary-General Hammad Ali Saleh sat down in his chair at the head of the semicircular table and reached thankfully for the water glass at his elbow. He hadn't been this nervous in thirty-five years, not since the Iran-Iraq border wars of the eighties. Then, he'd been a young Yemeni volunteer recognizing on an emotional level that the shells dropping out of the sky could kill him very dead. Now, his position was uncomfortably similar. No one knew why the alien wanted to talk to mankind's leaders, but the
Celeritas
's experience suggested the answer might not be a pleasant one. Certainly the superpowers thought so; all three had voted in favor of letting the UN take the hot seat. Point man, stalking horse … the expendable ones. Sipping his ice water carefully, Saleh consciously relaxed his jaw and waited.

“The Ctencri greet you in response,” the voice came abruptly. “It is ever an honor to welcome a new people into space. Your race has advanced greatly in the eight hundred years since you were last studied. It is hoped that we may find a solid base for trade and mutual profit.”

Something in Saleh's chest seemed to loosen up slightly. Trade and profit were business, not political, terms. Was this, then, merely a trading expedition? Saleh couldn't decide whether he would feel relieved or annoyed if the Ctencri government had indeed left their first contact with Earth to the aliens' version of AT&T.

Whoever it was out there, though, he had one very important point to clear up right away. “We would certainly be interested in discussing trade possibilities,” Saleh said. “However, we have several questions we would like to ask first. Foremost among them is why your ships fired on one of our unarmed probes.”

There was a short pause. “The question is meaningless. The defense units of Hreshtra-cten did not use force. Your lander was allowed to leave peaceably.”

“You're referring to the incident with the
Pathfinder,
” the American delegate spoke up from halfway around the table. “The
Celeritas
was in a different solar system when it was attacked.”

“Only one ship entered Ctencri territory,” the alien said. “The other presumably breached another people's region.”

Saleh blinked.
Two
alien races … and both within ten light-years? The American President had implied it was a single race that surrounded Earth, not two or more. Honest mistake or deliberate deception? “Perhaps you can help us contact the other … people,” he said, fighting to get back on balance again. “Or at least assure them we weren't attempting an attack on their territory. We seek only to find new worlds—unoccupied worlds, of course—that we may peacefully colonize.”

“That will be impossible.”

“Why? Don't you have communication with them?”

“Pardon; you misunderstand. We will certainly aid you in contacting the other peoples. It is your seeking of worlds to colonize which is impossible.”

Saleh frowned, his stomach tightening up again. “I don't understand.”

“All suitable worlds are already occupied.”

There was a moment of dead silence. “Occupied by whom?” the British delegate demanded.

“Many by their indigenous peoples,” the Ctencri said. “Such worlds are closed to outside contact, as was yours until now. The remainder are occupied or claimed by space-going people such as ourselves.”

“How many space-going races
are
there?” Saleh asked.

“The Ctencri have direct contact with nine others. The existence of seventeen more is known secondhand. We believe there to be many others.”

The Russians didn't believe it, of course. Neither, to a lesser extent, did the Americans and the Europeans. The star ships were sent out again, in new directions. And again. And again.

Eventually, they were all convinced.

“So this is it,” Saleh said, leaning back in his chair and gazing out the window at the lights of New York. They were glowing brightly, as usual, and the Yemeni felt his usual twinge of anger. The work at Oak Ridge and Princeton in the last century had guaranteed that the United States, at least, would not starve for energy for a long time to come … but the rest of the world still waited for the promised sharing of that technology.

Someone cleared his throat, and Saleh shifted his attention back to the five heads of state he'd invited to this meeting. “This makes no sense at all,” Japanese Prime Minister Nagata said, laying down a copy of the report. “An Earth-type world complete with water and a breathable atmosphere and
no metals?
That's absurd.”

“I only know what the Ctencri said,” Saleh said, shrugging. “It's
because
the planet hasn't got any metals that we've even got a chance at it—otherwise the Rooshrike would have found a use for the place long ago.”

“Could this be some sort of elaborate trap?” Premier Sing of the People's Republic asked. “I understand the Rooshrike are the ones who fired on the
Celeritas.
”

“According to the Ctencri, the Rooshrike simply act impulsively at times,” Saleh told him. “Apparently, they jumped to the wrong conclusion when the
Celeritas
didn't give the proper identification signals. I've been assured that's all straightened out now.”

“Less likely a trap than a swindle,” Russia's Liadov rumbled. “How much would the Rooshrike and the Ctencri want for this worthless lump of mud?”

“Nothing humans can live on is completely worthless,” President Allerton said mildly, a soft gleam in his eye.

The Russian snorted.

“The cost actually isn't that bad,” Saleh said. “It would come out to eighty million dollars' worth of certain relatively rare elements—the list of acceptable purity levels is on the last page. For that we would get a hundred-year lease with renewal option.” He paused. “Which brings us to the reason I've asked you here tonight. The rental fee would only be the tip of the iceberg if we intend to actually do anything with this world. Homes would have to be built, crops planted, industries started, colonists screened and trained—it would be a tremendous project.”

“And so you've come to us for money,” British Prime Minister Smythe-Walker put in dryly.

“Yes,” Saleh nodded without shame. “The UN budget can't support something like this, let alone organize everything—we simply haven't the funds or manpower. We would have to contract out parts of the operation, which would take even more money. So before I even bring this up to the Security Council and General Assembly, I need to know whether or not the money will be forthcoming from those who
can
afford it.”

“Why bother?” Liadov shrugged. “You ask a great deal for the privilege of flying the UN flag on a world with less economic value even than Venus. You would do better to fund expeditions to the Jovian moons.”

“You overstate the case somewhat,” Sing said, “but you are essentially correct. This world does not seem worth its cost.”

“Crops won't grow without traces of metal in the soil, for starters,” Nagata put in. “All food would need to be imported. And what could they export in exchange?”

“Other minerals,” Allerton said, still skimming the report. “One of the continents appears to be ringed with underwater mineral deposits.”

“What, silicates and such?” Smythe-Walker shook his head. “Sorry, John, but it's hard to imagine any rock formations worth carting up a gravity well and across forty light-years of space. And there's still the thing with food, unless you want to add a few tons of iron and manganese silicates to the soil before you plant.”

“Why not?” Allerton countered. “It's not as impractical as you make it sound.”

“No—but it
is
expensive.” Smythe-Walker looked at Saleh. “I'm sorry, but I don't believe His Majesty's government will be able to guarantee any support for such a project.”

“Has it occurred to you—to any of you,” Allerton added, glancing around the table, “that this whole thing
might be
some sort of test? That our willingness to take on what seems to be a hopeless task may be how all those aliens out there judge our spirit and ingenuity?”

“More likely testing our intelligence,” Nagata murmured.

“I have an idea,” Liadov spoke up. “As Mr. Allerton seems to be the only one of us interested in demonstrating mankind's resolve to our new neighbors—and as he is so fond of invoking Yankee ingenuity as the solution to all our problems—I suggest we give the United States a UN mandate to develop and administer this world. With a certain amount of UN support, of course.”

For a long moment Allerton stared hard into the Russian's impassive face, and Saleh held his breath. He'd been in the vanguard of the Islamic Confederation's vocal attacks on the Americans' Homestead Project, but such political necessities hadn't kept him from secretly hoping the search for new worlds would bear fruit. A new frontier—whether intended as a private preserve for the rich or not—would give hope to all those who felt themselves trapped into ancient patterns without the possibility of escape. Four years ago he'd dreamed of a UN that could build its own ship to fly with the Canadians' newly discovered star drive; two years later he'd finally admitted defeat. Rhetoric and Third World support were no substitutes for money, and the West was ever more selfish these days with their wealth. But if Liadov's goading succeeded …

“All right,” Allerton said abruptly. “If I can get Congress to approve, we'll do it.
And
”—he leveled a finger at Liadov—“we'll do it
well.
”

The next day the matter was brought before the General Assembly, which endorsed the mandate by a 148 to 13 vote. A month later the U.S. Senate followed suit, and the world newly christened Astra became the center of perhaps the biggest project the Army Corps of Engineers had ever undertaken.