The Sails of Tau Ceti (31 page)

“How long after this encounter can we expect
Far Horizons
to reach Earth?”

“Latest projections are for a sixty-day transit time. That can vary depending on how they adjust their orbit with the light sail, of course.”

“How does that work exactly?”

“Just like a sailboat tacking in front of the wind, or so they tell me. You have to understand that we don’t sail that much on Mars…” That drew a polite laugh. Tory waited for the noise to die down before she continued. “Essentially, a light sail derives its propulsive force from light pressure, or to be technical about it, from the change in momentum of the reflected photons. That force acts normal to the sail’s surface no matter its orientation. In other words, by tilting the sail, they can steer the starship. That is not a Phelan invention, by the way. Our own light sails move cargo between the planets in the same fashion.”

“I suppose they’ll be coming straight out from the sun,” the reporter said.

“The orbit will be more of a sweeping curve. Left unmodified, their post-encounter orbit would take them to where Earth was three months ago. As soon as they leave the vicinity of the sun, they will orient the sail to put them on a sweeping curve. They will pass inboard of us, then take up a solar parking orbit a million kilometers foreorbit of Earth.”

“Why not a regular parking orbit?”

“The size of the sail makes maneuvering difficult in the vicinity of a planet. Remember, as small as it may look on the screen, the light sail is nearly twice as wide as Earth!”

“Now that the starship appears to have arrived, can you tell us what plans there are for bringing the Phelan Resolution to a vote?”

“I can tell you that we hope to see the bill reported out of committee fairly soon, and then acted upon by the full council. We expect that it will pass long before
Far Horizons
actually reaches Earth.”

“How will the opposition respond to today’s events?”

“I hope they will recognize that their demand for the Phelan to find another star is unrealistic, and that they will join the rest of us in welcoming our cousins from another star. They have made some excellent points that the council will surely factor into their deliberations. There comes a time, however, when constructive criticism turns to obstructionism. The Phelan are here to stay. It is to everyone’s benefit that they be absorbed into our society with a minimum of friction.”

“May we quote you?”

“The truth should always be quoted!” Tory made a show of glancing at her wrist chronometer although her implant kept her constantly aware of the time. “I have time for another question.”

“What are the Phelan ambassadors’ plans for the rest of the day?” Matthews asked.

“They will remain in their quarters until we have reacquired communications with
Far Horizons
and they have talked to their people onboard. After that, Ambassador Faslorn will have a statement to make.”

#

The light sail reappeared from behind the eastern limb of the sun at precisely 13:23:18 hours. Two minutes later, the violet spark of the laser beam sought out the giant solarscope to announce that all had gone well. An hour after that,
Far Horizons
set sail for Earth.

CHAPTER 24

The restaurant was 200 stories up and occupied one entire quadrant of an office tower. The prices reflected the altitude and the panoramic view. Tory paused with her knife halfway through a real beefsteak smothered in grilled onions as she glared at Ben Tallen. He stared back with that insufferably superior look she knew so well.

“What the hell is taking so long with the council?”

“Now, now!” he chided. “We had an agreement, remember? There is to be no shop talk after the food arrives.”

“I’m serious, damn it! Your people promised us they would bring the Phelan Resolution to a vote within two weeks of
Far Horizons
rounding Sol. Six weeks later, the damned resolution is still bottled up in the Interior Affairs committee.”

“These things take time,” he said as he raised a crystal glass to his lips and sipped his wine.

“Space dust, Ben! Hoffenzoller is stalling.”

Tallen sighed and put down the glass. He stared at her with serious eyes. “If we discuss this now, can we then drop the subject for the rest of the evening?”

Her smile was the barest lifting of the corners of her lips. “Maybe.”

“Not good enough.”

“All right, I promise. You tell me what is going on and I won’t bring it up again tonight.”

“Good.”

Tory smiled broadly this time. She and Ben had turned their first dinner date into something of a tradition. Each Friday since then, he had shown up at the embassy at 20:00 hours with an armful of flowers, ready to escort her to dinner. Afterwards, they would go to a show, or museum, or a city nightspot. Twice she had succumbed to his advances and accompanied him to his apartment at evening’s end. Most often, however, after the obligatory pass, Ben would deliver her back to the embassy and accept his goodnight kiss without complaint. Though the spark of their college days had not been rekindled, they still enjoyed one another’s company. Their dates had also become an informal channel of communication between the Phelan embassy and the system council, also a friendly contest to see who could gather the most information while giving up the least.

In the six weeks since the alien starship had survived its brush with the sun, there had been no visible progress toward acquiring the tract of land the Phelan sought. Each week seemed to bring a new excuse. Now, with
Far Horizons
only two weeks out, the Phelan were beginning to suspect bad faith by the council leadership. As a result, Faslorn had given Tory very specific instructions concerning the subjects to be covered during her weekly tryst with Tallen.

“What do you want to know?” Ben asked.

“I want to know the real reason for this delay. Has the first minister gone back on his word?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Is that the truth, Ben, or what they told you to say?”

He grinned. “Are you asking whether I would lie to you if it were in the best interests of my principals? The answer is yes. Wouldn’t you?”

Despite herself, Tory blushed. The question reminded her of the many lies she had told in the service of the Phelan. No amount of rationalization about the greater good would totally salve her conscience.

Seeing her reaction, Tallen pressed the point. “I’ve been watching you, Tory. Something is bothering you, something big. What is it? What sort of hold do they have on you?”

She felt her face grow crimson. “Let’s get back to the subject, shall we? What the hell’s going on with the council?”

He studied her for a moment, and then decided not to push it. “Unfortunately, we can’t condemn the outback site without a funding authorization, and that has to go through the Internal Affairs committee. As you know, Joshua Kravatz, the committee chairman, is violently opposed to allowing the Phelan to settle on Earth, or anywhere else in the Solar System. We have not been able to determine his motivation. Ambassador Sadibayan thinks he may have religious objections.”

Tory shook her head. “No, he’s merely peeved with us.”

“Oh?”

“I first met Joshua Kravatz at an embassy party about a year ago. He came in his capacity as representative of the university faculties rather than as Interior Affairs chairman. He wanted the Phelan to license their information retrieval technology to his group free of charge. Faslorn refused because he was already negotiating to license the same technology for a hefty fee. Kravatz stomped off and we didn’t hear from him again until the bill entered his committee.”

“And I thought the Phelan understood human politics,” Ben said, laughing. “Tell Faslorn that he should never,
never
, NEVER, refuse the request of a councilor for a bribe.”

Tory shrugged. “It seemed a good call at the time. Anyway, what is done is done. The question before us is how we spring the resolution out from under Kravatz’s hobnailed boot!” Tory had never actually seen a hobnailed boot, of course, but the expression lived on two centuries after the item it described had ceased to exist.

“It won’t be easy. Besides Kravatz we’ve got the Aussies against us, also a manure pile of industrial interests who are betting they will do better under the status quo.”

“So we are supposed to accept this impasse?”

“It won’t be an impasse for long,” Tallen assured her.

“How’s that?”

“The first minister thinks he can get Kravatz to cave in, at least enough to allow the resolution to go to the full council. If Kravatz continues to obstruct things, Hoffenzoller is ready to declare it a matter of vital interest and invoke an order of first councilor privilege. That will bring it to the floor for immediate debate.”

“Then he should have done that four weeks ago!”

“Invoking privilege isn’t something you do lightly. For one thing, it triggers an automatic vote-of-confidence. If Hoffenzoller risks such a vote and loses, your precious Phelan would find themselves stuck in orbit for the next century or two. Which, by the way, may not be all that bad.”

“Are you joining the opposition, Ben?”

“I only meant that we’re rushing things because of an artificial deadline. So what if they have to stay in parking orbit for a few weeks or months until we get things settled here on the ground?”

“You know as well as I do,” she replied acidly. “We’ve orchestrated our whole campaign around
Far Horizons
’ encounter with Sol. The plan was to hold the vote just as public interest peaked. Well, that happened five weeks ago. The longer we wait, the smaller the constituency the Phelan will have here on Earth. You have seen how easy it is to inflame public emotions, Ben. What do you think the political climate will be like a year from now if we give the demagogues free rein?”

“The only outright propaganda I’ve seen to date appears to have come from you and the embassy,” Tallen responded.

“We’ve made no secret of the fact that we’re funding a public relations campaign,” Tory said defensively. “Can you blame us? We’re trying to overcome fifty-thousand years of inbred human distrust of strangers.”

“I wasn’t ‘blaming’ you, merely making an observation. Anyway, Hoffenzoller is scheduled to talk to Kravatz this evening. If he relents, fine. If not, we will hit him with a writ demanding that he report the resolution to the council. In either event, debate begins Wednesday morning. Satisfied?”

She thought for a moment, and then nodded. “I suppose.”

“Good. Then let’s get back to discussing the important things in life, namely how beautiful you are this evening.”

#

The Great Chamber of the Solar System Council was a bowl shaped auditorium surmounted by a polarized geodesic dome. The chamber reminded Tory of a sports arena with its sloped sides and multiple tiers for spectators. In the council chamber, the spectators were the councilors themselves. Each delegation was assigned an enclosed observation box connected via a short hallway to the offices clustered around the chamber periphery. The observation boxes were fronted by glass walls that could be retracted to allow those inside to follow the floor debate directly, or via screen. The arrangement was intended to promote efficiency. Despite this, council deliberations often flowed with the speed of lubricating oil exposed to the cold Martian night.

However, even the slowest snail must eventually reach its destination. Monday evening the Phelan embassy was notified that debate on their bill would begin promptly at 10:00 hours Wednesday, August 21, 2245 — precisely the time predicted by Ben Tallen. Raalwin left shortly after the announcement was received to poll his many contacts within council headquarters. He found a disturbing lack of consensus concerning how the Interior Affairs committee had disgorged. Some maintained that they had done so voluntarily, hinting that the opposition expected to defeat the bill. Others reported mysterious meetings among opponents and supporters. The only thing on which everyone agreed was that there had been no need for the first councilor to invoke his privileges.

Along with word of the impending debate had come passes to the gallery where interested VIPs could watch the action. Despite invitations to the four Phelan, Faslorn decreed that only Tory would attend in person. Otherwise, the sight of aliens in the gallery might awaken primitive impulses among some councilors. Once the resolution passed, there would be plenty of time for the Phelan to express their gratitude in person.

Tory was in her place when the foreshortened figure of Boerk Hoffenzoller strode to the presiding officer’s box and called the session to order. A small screen inset in a console before her showed the first councilor’s features in close-up. There followed a general stirring up and down the tiers. For once, every glass wall was retracted and each councilor’s seat filled. Tory’s gaze was drawn to where the small Martian delegation sat on the third tier opposite. Next to them were the Lunarians, and down a tier, the Lagrangians. The representative of the tiny Europa colony sat on the topmost tier, one-third of the way around the circumference from her. These four delegations had once been the whole council. Now they were but a few islands of space dwellers adrift in a sea of terrestrial humanity.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the council,” Hoffenzoller announced without preamble. “We will waive the reading of the minutes. I draw your attention to Docket Number 184394, ‘A Resolution To Cede Certain Territories On The Continent Of Australia To The Tau Ceti Refugees For The Purpose Of Establishing A Phelan Colony.’ Know you that this is to be a full debate of the pros and cons of this resolution, followed by a vote. Pursuant to Special Chamber Order Number Ten, there will be no amendments, clarifications, or riders. Know also that it is the intent of the leadership to support this measure. Now, then, Councilor Kravatz of the Alliance of University Professors has requested the honor of speaking first. Councilor Kravatz will speak in opposition.”

Tory watched as a portly man ascended the steps to the speaker’s box. She remembered Kravatz primarily for his habit of jutting his chin out when he was not speaking. On the one occasion she had met him, she’d thought the mannerism faintly ridiculous. There was nothing ridiculous about him now as he stared out across the chamber with angry eyes. Nor did he have the manner of someone recently mauled in a political fight. As she watched him, Tory’s stomach began to knot into a hard ball.