The Sails of Tau Ceti (33 page)

It seemed to Tory that Dard looked directly at her as he stepped to the podium. She decided that she was imagining things. After all, from the speaker’s position, she was a dimly perceived figure behind a glass wall. She leaned forward to closely study her ex-boss on the screen. His expression reminded her of the time when she had been invited to attend the faculty Friday night poker game. That had been the night he had been dealt a straight flush and strove mightily to conceal the fact.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the council,” he began. “I am here today to report on a rather startling discovery made by my colleagues at the Sorbonne. Before I do so, it will be necessary to give you some background. Please bear with me. It will all become clear in a few minutes.

“Throughout human history Tau Ceti was a nondescript fifth magnitude star of spectral class K0. Slightly cooler than Sol, it had very little to distinguish it until it lit up the sky on the night of August 25, 2001. Many people took it as an omen to mark the beginning of the new millennium. Astronomers were mystified. You see, Tau Ceti, like Sol, was a main sequence star. That is, it was in the hydrogen-burning phase of its life, with more than five billion years remaining before it should have swelled into a red giant, and then eventually ended life as a white dwarf. It was believed at the time that main sequence stars do not nova. Our ancestors were very mystified by this nova and never truly explained how it happened.

“Because of the public interest in Tau Ceti caused by the appearance of the Phelan starship, several colleagues and I decided to look again at the old data. We thought that, with 250 additional years of science on which to draw, we might be able to solve the mystery that had stumped our predecessors. In this effort, we have been unsuccessful. We have developed several theories to explain how a main sequence star might nova, but none of these is particularly compelling. Nor are any of our theories supported by the data, which have several peculiarities that I will now address.”

Dard Pierce reached down and pressed a control on the podium. His face disappeared from Tory’s screen, to be replaced by a jagged curve. “What you are looking at is the spectrum of the Tau Ceti nova in the first moments after telescopes were brought to bear on it. Yet, in studying the spectrum, our ancestors found a deficit of some 2.5 percent in the star’s light output in the initial phases of the explosion. In non-scientific terms, some light that should have been produced when the star exploded is missing.”

The graph disappeared and was replaced by an image of the exploding star. “Here we have a photograph from an orbiting observatory taken within hours of the nova’s first appearance in the sky. It is one of a series of observations made at different wavelengths. Here, ladies and gentlemen, is a modern composite image using data from the entire observational series … “The screen changed to show a different image of the exploding star. The bright star burst showed a subtle texture in the image. Where before Tau Ceti had been an intense blue-white spark, now it was mottled. The texture of the star faintly resembled that of an orange peel.

“What we discovered,” Pierce continued, “was that 2.5 percent of the star’s visible surface was obscured by multiple small objects during the initial stages of the explosion. This phenomenon lasted for approximately 16 hours. Afterwards, the light output of the exploding star was precisely what theory predicts it should have been. We have postulated that the objects, whatever they were, became submerged in the expanding shell of superheated gas and thus became invisible. Why our ancestors did not detect this mottling is something of a mystery. Perhaps they never thought to combine the multiple wavelength images, or lacked our computer routines for doing so. Maybe they did detect the phenomenon and failed to note its significance. In any event, our people in Paris have analyzed this image extensively. The obscuring objects are approximately 20,000 kilometers in diameter — precisely the size of a Phelan light sail. What we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is a picture of
Far Horizons
and her sister ships as they launched!

“You can imagine our excitement when we realized what we were looking at. However, a quick calculation proved that four light sails could not possibly have obscured 2.5 percent of the nova’s light. To cover up that much of the expanding fireball would have required many more light sails.”

Pierce took a deep breath and glanced up from his prepared text. There was no mistaking the look of triumph in his eyes. “Ladies and gentlemen, if we assume that the Phelan craft were arrayed twenty degrees to either side of their system’s ecliptic when Tau Ceti exploded,
the number of light sails required to produce the observed obscuration is more than one hundred thousand!

CHAPTER 26

Tory stood on the balcony outside the embassy living quarters and scanned the sky for aircraft. There were a surprising damned lot of them. Immediately above and beyond the railing were three police hover cruisers, each balanced on underjets as though pinned to that particular patch of sky. Their normally quiet hissing sound was amplified to a shout in the sounding box canyons below. The warm wind induced by their hot jets washed across the roof, tugging at her clothes and ruffling her hair.

Much higher up and farther away, several bright sparks orbited in the clear blue sky. These were military craft. Unseen in the canyons below were the squads of uniformed police that had blocked off eight full city blocks. The police had taken over the whole of the office tower below the embassy, evicting the thousands who normally worked in the building. There were guards everywhere. The lower two floors of the embassy were also deserted. None of the human staff had shown up for work in the past three days.

Tory grimaced as she watched the patrolling aircraft. She had fully expected to reach this point, but not for another six years. Now they would never know whether the Phelan grand plan could have worked. Like the carefully woven tapestry of fiction that it was, the plan had been unraveled by a single dangling thread of truth.

The reaction to Dard Pierce’s revelation had been both instantaneous and devastating. Even the normally unflappable councilors had risen to their feet to shout defiance at the Phelan. There had followed ringing denunciations as various politicians rushed to place themselves on record opposing the Phelan Resolution. The denunciations were still going strong three days later. It seemed as though every public official on the planet wanted to make known his or her loathing for the aliens.

The story had flashed around the world and out into space at the speed of light. With it had gone a shockwave of disbelief and anger. As that first shock subsided, news organizations turned to embellishment to retain public interest. A gold rush had begun to find scientists willing to make increasingly lurid estimates of the size of the Third Fleet. The highest Tory had heard so far was 250,000 starships carrying more than 30 billion refugees. The embassy had not attempted to correct these exaggerations. The truth, after all, was bad enough.

For two years, Tory had suffered through sweaty, sleepless nights worrying about what people would think of her part in the deception. She need wonder no longer. Within minutes of Dard Pierce’s revelation, she’d found herself a pariah among her own people. She had barely made her way to the exit of the visitor’s gallery when she was intercepted by a squad of Fleet Marines decked out in riot control gear. A lieutenant whose courteous manner had not extended to his eyes informed her that he had been assigned to escort her back to the embassy. Of Tory’s own security detachment, there had been no sign.

At least they were still respecting the sanctity of the deserted embassy. She had warned Faslorn and the others that this probably would not last. The Phelan had no method for protecting their representatives. Any courtesies rendered were just that —courtesies.

A flash of light from a nearby office tower told Tory that her watchers were not only in the sky. She wondered how many telephoto lenses were currently focused on her, and how many telescopic sights? She found the idea disturbing. It robbed the open air of its usual freedom. Frowning, she turned and made here way back to the living quarters through the rooftop garden.

What would happen next did not bear thinking about.

#

All five of them were sealed into The Egg to discuss strategy. Except for a single warning message flashed to
Far Horizons
, there had been no communication with either the starship or the system council. The commlink to the starship was still operative, however, as was Tory’s link with the city computer. How long before the authorities decided to cut even these tenuous lines of communication was anyone’s guess.

It was a somber group who gathered around the small conference table at the center of the spherical enclosure. The air was thick with the smell of human sweat, paint thinner and cinnamon. The overhead lights had been dimmed, with the primary illumination provided by the glowing holoscreen on which was displayed
Far Horizons
’s orbital track.

“What are they waiting for?” Maratel asked. “Why don’t they arrest us?”

“It’s
Far Horizons
,” Tory said, gesturing toward the screen. “The authorities don’t know whether to board now or wait until your people make parking orbit.”

“They mustn’t!” Faslorn warned. “That will convince the fleet that all is lost. Those who command will begin preparations for another interstellar voyage.”

“They’d blow up the sun if your ship were captured? Just like that? No warning?”

“Preparations at this stage would involve repositioning the fleet to pass well clear of Sol. They would not want to be caught too close to the nova. The actual seeding of your sun would not begin for three or four years.”

“Then there is still time to change minds.”

Raalwin’s gesture was a Phelan negative. “The capture of the scout ship at this time would almost certainly trigger a redeployment of the fleet. Once that is completed, the decision to continue on to another star is irreversible.”

“What do you mean, ‘at this time?’” Tory asked.

Faslorn signaled permission before Raalwin responded. “There have been developments we thought best to keep from you, Tory.
Far Horizons
’s primary communications array, the one we use to communicate with the fleet, was damaged during the transit through your star’s corona.”

“Damaged how?”

“The array is imbedded in the light sail. Several vital junctions were eroded by whipping gas.”

“You must have a backup.”

“The alternate array is on the trailing end cap near where Maratel showed you the anchor sphere. It is currently masked by the sail. We cannot use it until the sail is discarded after
Far Horizons
achieves parking orbit.”

“I still don’t see the problem.”

“For three long months, those who command will have only human news sources and their own imaginations to judge our progress. You have experienced the vitriol of the past three days. How do you expect those who command to respond when the speeches of denunciation reach them in a few months?”

“Badly,” Tory said glumly.

“Correct. Now imagine their reaction when they receive reports of
Far Horizons
’s capture or destruction.”

“But they’ve come so far! Surely they won’t throw everything away on a whim.”

“It isn’t a whim,” Raalwin said. “The fate of our species is at stake. We must know absolutely that humans can be trusted or we must seek another star.”

“Damn it! Most of your ships cannot take another interstellar voyage. You’ve told me that yourself a dozen times or more.”

“True,” the Phelan political scientist replied. “Projections call for a 75% failure rate on the second leg of the voyage. Hundreds of millions will die slowly as their life support systems degrade to uselessness.”

“And you consider that better than making peace with us?”

Maratel reached across the table and placed a hand on top of Tory’s. “You don’t understand. Many will die, but not all. The race will survive. That is why we chose to build so many small ships rather than a few large ones. We can make up to three voyages like the last one before the last ship wears out.”

“If your people blow up the sun, they will kill you and everyone aboard
Far Horizons
.” Even as she said it, Tory realized that her objection was too obvious not to have occurred to them.

Faslorn’s lower hands fluttered in a gesture that Maratel had once demonstrated for her. It was an acknowledgement that some things are beyond one’s control, a gesture of absolute resignation.

“That is our function, Victoria Bronson,” he said, using her full name for the first time in months. “We were sent here to determine if human beings could be made to accept us. Our studies of your people tell us that the risk has always been very great. Perhaps we would have succeeded if we had been given time to prepare humanity for the shock, perhaps not. We have always known that our own lives would be forfeit if we failed. After all, a ship of specialists on
Homo sapiens
is of little use once your race no longer exists.”

“Damn it, you can’t just give up!” Tory yelled. We need to buy time while we think of some way out of this mess.”

“Things have progressed too far. Your people have decided to reject us. There is no chance that we can change their minds.”

“Nonsense. There’s
always
a chance.” Tory noticed the glances the four aliens exchanged. She was not sufficiently skilled at interpreting Phelan emotions to recognize the nuances, but it did not take a genius to know what they were thinking. They were wondering if their poor human servant was suffering a breakdown.

“What do you suggest, Victoria?”

She frowned. In truth, she had no idea what they should do next. In desperation, she said, “You’ll have to tell the full council that you will destroy the sun if they reject you. Let them know the consequences of their actions.”

Faslorn shook his head slowly from side to side in a very human gesture. “That is something that we must never do.”