The Sails of Tau Ceti (32 page)

“Ladies and gentlemen of the council,” the councilor began in a clipped British accent. “I stand before you an ogre and a monster, a molester of children, a robber of graves, and a denigrator of dreams. You must believe that of me, and more, for have you not listened to the deluge of propaganda flowing from that nest of aliens a few blocks from here?

“Or is it mere coincidence that I and others who have spoken against this abomination we debate today have been pilloried ever since the alien ship rounded the sun? I leave it to you to decide, my colleagues, and to consider what right these aliens have to meddle in our affairs.”

Kravatz stared directly into the camera with flaring nostrils. “These aliens charge that I am an insensitive brute who would cast their poor brethren into the infinite black from where they came. To this charge alone, I plead guilty. How can anyone be so heartless, you may ask. There is but a single answer to that question. Despite what the Phelan Embassy’s propaganda would have you believe, these interlopers from the stars have no claim to this, our world. Nor do they have a right to any of the planets of Sol, nor to its golden sunshine or life giving warmth. These things belong to humanity. It is humanity, and humanity alone, that will decide whether they are to be shared.

“Please, do not misunderstand me, colleagues. Like you, I feel for their plight. I, too, am saddened by their loss. Like you, I thrill at the epic story of their two century long voyage to find another star. Yet, their plight is not of our doing, their voyage made necessary by no act of humankind. We have heard enough sentimental mush about the sanctity of all living things. The time has come for clear vision and a strong understanding of our own self-interest. The time has come for us to determine what is best for humanity!”

Kravatz paused to let his words sink in. After a few seconds, he glanced down at his prepared speech, and then continued. “We are met here, my colleagues, to decide whether we will award the survivors of the Tau Ceti nova a few thousand hectares of largely uninhabitable scrub land. Some of you argue that the land is largely worthless, and that the Phelan technology we receive in return will pay us for our troubles many times over. I respect your right to that opinion. As for me, I would no more lend these aliens my world than I would lend them my wife. To do so would be to sell our human heritage for a few shiny baubles. Our history is replete with such bargains. I hope we have learned to recognize their folly.”

Kravatz turned to the first councilor. “Sir, I have additional remarks that I wish to make later. I am prepared to yield to the next speaker.”

“Very well,” Boerk Hoffenzoller replied formally. He turned to the cameras. “I now call on Minister for Science de Pasqual, who will speak for the leadership.”

Jesus de Pasqual was cool and reasoned where Kravatz had been emotional and demagogic. He pointed out all of the reasons why it was impossible for the Phelan to seek a new star. He then listed the benefits to be gained from Phelan technology. It was a long list. Tory and Maratel had worked on it most of the previous night.

When the science minister completed his speech, an opposition councilor took his place at the podium. The debate continued that way throughout the morning. The two sides took turns. Opponents maintained that the Phelan starship could be refurbished and sent on its way by a bank of lasers that would substitute for the power of the nova. Supporters called such claims fantasy, and did their best to explain the technical difficulty of interstellar flight. Just before noon, the councilor representing Mars made his way to the podium. He followed an opponent of the resolution, and thus, was to speak in support.

The Martian began by lauding the far-reaching vision of the scientists who had constructed the Starhopper Probe. Without it, he reminded them, there would be no debate this day. Rather, they would be awaiting the arrival of the alien starship with no knowledge of who or what was aboard. He spoke of the genius of Dardan Pierce, the skill of Garth Van Zandt, the courage of Katherine Claridge, and the knowledge of Eli Guttieriz. After long minutes, it became clear that he did not intend to mention the daughter of Mars who sat in the gallery. As far as his words were concerned, Tory Bronson had never existed.

Tears welled up in Tory’s eyes as she sat wooden faced, staring straight ahead, lest some questing camera see her react. The snub, coming from an unexpected quarter, had breached the carefully constructed wall within her subconscious. Every doubt, fear, and worry she had faced in the past two years came boiling to the fore. It took all her willpower to sit and listen as her planet’s representative droned on. Her inner turmoil was so great that she missed much of what he was saying. Only after he relinquished the podium did she realize that he had said not a single word in support of the resolution.

Before the next speaker could rise, Boerk Hoffenzoller ordered the debate suspended for two hours for lunch. He, too, seemed shaken by the non-endorsement of the Martian councilor. Tory waited for a long minute to compose herself before she left the gallery to face the reporters who would be clustered outside.

CHAPTER 25

Tory found herself awash in reporters as soon as the lift doors opened. They swarmed forward to stick their pickups in her face as she pushed through the jostling crowd to freedom. “Miss Bronson! How would you score the debate so far? … What about the Martian councilor’s speech? … What will the Phelan do now?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered.

“Are you saying your home planet hasn’t defected to the opposition then?”

“All I heard was Councilor Mannheim extolling the virtues of the Starhopper Project. He said not a word against the resolution.”

“Nor in favor of it. Any comment?”

“Only that you should ask Councilor Mannheim what he meant by his speech. He speaks for Mars, not me.”

“How do you feel about his snub of you personally?”

“I didn’t notice any snub.”

She ignored the rest of their shouted questions until her security entourage extricated her. A flying wedge of uniformed guards cleared her way to the tube station, where they all rode back to the embassy.

“What the hell happened?” Tory demanded as she slammed her attaché case down in the living quarters.

Maratel was standing in front of the holoscreen, watching a replay of her encounter with the news people. Tory winced at the wild look in her eyes and the grim expression on her face as she snarled her answers.

“We’re not sure what is going on,” Maratel replied without taking her eyes from the screen. “Raalwin is checking his sources. Things are definitely not going as planned.”

“Do you suppose Hoffenzoller has double crossed us?”

“It is too early to say. Wait for Raalwin’s report.”

Five minutes later, the political specialist entered the living quarters and signaled them to join him in The Egg. Faslorn was waiting for them. Neirton was on the West Coast of the continent, arranging a special public opinion poll. The wait for the electromagnetic seals to activate seemed an eternity.

“Something is up,” Raalwin announced as soon as the light board showed it safe to speak. “I spoke with Ben Tallen. He told me about the first minister’s session with Joshua Kravatz.”

“And?” Faslorn asked.

“Apparently, Kravatz volunteered to release the resolution to the full council even before Hoffenzoller could bring it up. The first minister’s people assumed Kravatz had counted the votes and was trying to lose gracefully. This morning’s session would appear to explode that theory.”

“Maybe he’d counted the votes and figured he could win,” Maratel said.

“What happened to Mars?” Faslorn asked Tory. “Your people have been the strongest advocates of gaining access to our technology.”

“That is what makes it so strange. Your light sail material will revolutionize dome building. I have seen half a dozen other things aboard
Far Horizons
that will transform how we live at home. It would take one hell of a shock to make Mars throw all of that away.”

“Yet, they seem to have done just that. Use your implant to scan our informants’ reports for the last few weeks. See if we have anything unusual on Councilor Mannheim or his people.”

“I can’t without dropping the spy shields.”

“Right,” Faslorn said, remembering that they were in The Egg. The oversight was an indication of how distracted he was. “Then use the hand terminal.”

Tory set about manually coding the command. Since their arrival, the Phelan had engaged the services of several political operatives. They had also gained a reputation for paying well for useful information developed by freelance informants. Their network generally kept them well apprised of events at council headquarters.

While Tory worked, Faslorn turned to Raalwin. “When did you last poll the Martian delegation?”

“I spoke personally with Mannheim’s political assistant sixty hours ago. He gave me assurances of Mars’s support.”

“Could he have been lying?”

“I monitored the call with the usual instruments. They say he was telling the truth.”

“Perhaps Mannheim didn’t confide in him.”

“The profile we have on the Martian councilor says that he is not an independent actor. It is unlikely that he would change sides without confiding in his assistant.”

“Then we must conclude that something has happened within the last three days to change the equation. What?”

“I know,” Tory announced.

She felt three sets of black eyes fix on her as she fidgeted before the workscreen. Like the rest of The Egg, the secure facility’s computer was cut off from the outside world at the moment. However, it was connected to the embassy computer whenever the spy shields were down. That gave Tory access to everything in the embassy computer until the moment they had sealed themselves in. In fact, much of the delay in that process was caused by the final computer update instruction that preceded raising the shields.

“Dardan Pierce is back on Earth. He was seen having dinner with Councilor Mannheim last evening. Our informant filed his report at 07:30 this morning.”

“What is the significance?” Faslorn asked.

“The last time Dard was on Earth was the night he came to our party. I asked him to call me next trip so we could go out to dinner. He didn’t call.”

“Perhaps he was too busy,” Maratel interjected.

“Then he would have contacted me to express his regrets. That sort of thing takes about a second via implant. I know Dard. He believes in keeping his word. No, if I haven’t heard from him, it’s because he has something to hide.”

“What?”

“It might be connected with the Tau Ceti research project. Wait a second.” Tory typed another command into the computer, cursing the clumsiness of fingers as input devices. Because the Tau Ceti research project was partially funded by the Phelan, the embassy had a direct link to the project files in Paris. Updates of all project data were made every six hours, including the guest log. In seconds, the file she had been searching for began to flow up the screen in glowing letters. “Here it is. Professor Dardan Pierce, appointment for 10:00 hours last Thursday.”

Faslorn snapped something in the Phelan tongue to Maratel. She replied in Standard. “There have been no reports of useful findings from the research project, especially none questioning the origin of the nova. So far as everyone there believes, our star exploded of its own accord.”

“What else could they have discovered from 250-year-old data?”

“Nothing,” Raalwin hissed. “We transmitted their data to our own astronomers. They claim there is no way to tell that the explosion was not natural.”

“I can think of one way,” Tory said.

“How?”

“What if they penetrated The Egg’s security and heard us talking about it?”

Faslorn considered the idea, and then signaled his disbelief with a sharp Phelan negative. “If true, then the spies would report to the first councilor. He seems as much in the dark as we are.”

“That may be a trick,” Maratel said.

“To what purpose?” Raalwin asked. “The Martian councilor made him look like a fool this morning. Surely Hoffenzoller would not allow that with everyone in the system watching.”

Tory nodded. “I agree. I saw his expression. He was shocked by what Mannheim did.”

“Then we will trust your human instincts. What can we conclude from this? Apparently, the astronomers studying the old data have uncovered something that hurts our cause. We are agreed that it is unlikely they know the nova was artificially induced, so what else can it be?”

When no one spoke, he said, “We have but an hour to solve this puzzle and find a way to counter it. Any suggestions?”

#

A very worried Tory Bronson found herself seated in the gallery for the start of the afternoon council session. During the morning, she had been virtually alone. Now, every seat was taken. Word that something was up had spread through council headquarters at the speed of light. Suddenly, everyone who had the power to obtain a pass to one of the visitors’ galleries had done so. Adding to Tory’s discomfort was the hurriedly gulped sandwich that lay in her stomach like a rust red rock from home.

Again, Boerk Hoffenzoller strode to the presiding officer’s box and took his place behind the large, ceremonial desk. He reached out and pressed a control. The amplified sound of a gavel echoed through the great hall.

“The council will come to order.”

He waited until the banks of glass walls were retracted and the delegations had returned to their seats. The tiers, like the visitors’ galleries, were now packed.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the council. I ask unanimous consent to interrupt the scheduled roll of the debate so that we may hear again from Councilor Kravatz. Those opposed, please signify.” The hall was silent for half-a-minute as the electronic tally board remained blank. There had been no objections.

Kravatz emerged from a side tunnel and made his way to the podium. He was no longer alone. A familiar figure strode beside him. It was Dardan Pierce.

“Colleagues,” the committee chairman began, “I have shocking news that I do not feel competent to express. For that purpose, I ask that Professor Pierce of the University of Olympus, Mars, be given the courtesy of the hall. If there are no objections, Professor Pierce.”