The Sails of Tau Ceti (34 page)

“But why?”

“What was your first reaction when we revealed our secret to you?”

“I wanted to tell you to go to hell!”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because it wouldn’t have done any good, except possibly to make me feel better.”

“And having concluded that, you reasoned that it was better to assist us in our deception than it was for you to tell your people the truth.”

“Of course.”

“And how have you slept these past two years, knowing that you were doing the right thing for humanity?”

“You know damned well how I’ve slept.”

“Precisely,” Faslorn said. “Yet you are a highly intelligent individual, able to rationalize a decision with which you are not comfortable. Too bad the psychology of individual humans does not hold for humans en masse. If it did, we might be able to reason with your people.”

“You can’t know their reaction in advance.”

“But we
do
know. We have run the simulation millions of times, always with the same result. Your people are in a highly emotional state just now. They have, in effect, ceased thinking and have gone on automatic control. They are resolved to punish us because we concealed the existence of the Third Fleet. By telling them that we also have the power to destroy your sun, we only reinforce their opinion that we are evil incarnate. In addition, revealing the truth will give your people reason to fear us, and you humans try to destroy that which you fear. You cannot help it. The ‘fight or flight’ response is buried too deeply in your genes.

“Besides, no one will believe us. Most will refuse to face the unpleasant truth. They will claim we are lying. Others will be defiant and dare us to do our worst. Any leader who counsels conciliation will be shouted down by those who demand war. And in the end, there will be war, and those who command our fleet will order the sun destroyed.”

Tory’s frown turned into a scowl. He was right, of course. Since there was no possibility of fleeing the menace, the natural reaction would be to fight. The drums of war would sound; a fleet would be raised, defenses seen to. Probably, hundreds or thousands of alien starships would be intercepted or destroyed as they swept in from deep space. Yet, whatever score the Space Navy ran up, it would not be enough. A single surviving Phelan ship could still destroy Sol and ride the shockwave outbound. Indeed, neutrinos of a precisely regulated energy would penetrate the sun long before the Third Fleet came within range of the Navy. Once the instability was started, there would be no stopping it. Had it been otherwise, one-quarter of the Phelan species would not now be transiting the outlands of Sol. Besides, with their light sails as weapons, Tory doubted the Navy could kill more than a small fraction of the 22,000 inbound starships.

Light sails as weapons…

Tory treated the errant thought gently, lest it escape her. There was something about it that sparked a resonance in her mind. Perhaps the Phelan had not considered the problem properly, she thought. Revealing their power would indeed frighten the people of the solar system. However, would it frighten them enough? She chewed her lower lip as she considered what she was about to suggest. It was a truly hair-brained idea, and one with a million things that might go wrong. Even if everything went right, there was no guarantee of success.

She glanced at the screen that marked the progress of
Far Horizons
toward its parking place in solar orbit. The ship was only a few days away from the end of its journey. There were the problems of communications and timing, of course. Would they be allowed to communicate at all? Would the Navy give
Far Horizons
the time needed to make the plan work or would they board it and seal humanity’s doom with pictures of Marines marauding through the starship’s corridors?

She thought of Garth Van Zandt somewhere out in space. Was he even now closing in on the light sail? What about the other craft the Navy must have shadowing the starship? How close were they? Would they figure out what
Far Horizons
was up to in time to prevent it?

Lastly, she considered her own responsibility in all of this. She was already judged a traitor by practically everyone. What would they think when they learned this had been her idea? Would they ever understand, or would the name of Victoria Bronson be added to those of Judas, Quisling, and Daman on the black list of human history?

She found that she had no answers to any of her questions. To one used to the instantaneous information flow of a computer implant, not knowing was a hard thing to endure. Still, she did not see that she had a choice in the matter. To do nothing would lead to the sun’s destruction.

She took a deep breath, looked at Faslorn, and said, “I may have an idea on how to retrieve the situation. It carries some risk. They may just decide to kill us outright…”

#

It was a beautiful day outside when next Tory found herself in the Great Hall of the System Council. Shafts of late summer sunlight shown down through the transparent dome overhead, pierced the air, and lit up the floating dust motes that had somehow evaded the air scrubbers. Again, the hall was filled. It seemed as though everyone on the planet wanted to be present at this critical moment. Those who had not been able to obtain passes were planted in front of their viewscreens at home.

The timing had been the hardest thing to arrange. When Faslorn first requested permission to address the council, Boerk Hoffenzoller had suggested an emergency session that same evening. He had been mystified when the Phelan had refused the opportunity, and had insisted on a delay of four full days. Hoffenzoller’s initial impulse had been to deny the request as unreasonable. He had not done so because the matter was too important to play the usual dominance games. Besides, he was curious to hear what the aliens had to say.

Tory and the four Phelan arrived at the appointed hour and were immediately ushered to their seats on the floor of the great hall. The Phelan had dropped their human personas for the occasion and were again alien creatures doing the bidding of their species. Tory felt herself at the focus of a thousand hostile glares as she took her seat next to the four white furred aliens.

At the agreed upon minute, Boerk Hoffenzoller stepped to the podium and called everyone to order. A hush fell over the delegates as the first councilor shuffled papers on the lectern. When he began to speak, it was in the heavy, sonorous voice politicians use for funerals and the gravest announcements.

“Ladies and gentlemen. One week ago, we learned that we are about to be descended upon by thousands of alien starships bearing God knows how many new mouths to feed. The Phelan leader has asked to address this council to clarify the situation. I ask that you hear him out, and leave it to the conscience of each of you to determine how much stock to place in his words. I give you Faslorn, leader of the Phelan.”

At the mention of his name, Faslorn rose and knuckle walked to the podium. He and Hoffenzoller passed one another, pausing long enough to exchange a few words. The contrast between the white-furred alien and the graying elderly human was stark.

Faslorn reached the podium and began to speak. “Ladies and gentlemen of the council. People of Sol. I bring you greetings from the people of Tau Ceti, who are sorely in need of your help. Many of you feel betrayed because we did not tell you of the numerous ships that are now inbound for your star. I do not blame you for that. I do ask, however, that you try to put aside that emotion to consider the very serious situation in which both our species find themselves. I think you will find what I have to say worth listening to.

“There have been many speculations about the number of ships now en route to Sol. The Third Fleet consists of 22,318 starships, each the same size as the scout vessel you know as
Far Horizons
. The total Phelan population aboard these ships is 2.8 billion.”

Faslorn waited for the angry buzzing noise that followed his announcement to die away. “This then is what we have been protecting. We had hoped to convince you of our worthiness before the fleet made its presence known, but that is now impossible. So be it.”

He told of the terrible day when the Phelan realized that their star was doomed, leaving out only the fact that it had been the Phelan themselves who were the cause. Faslorn told of the massive effort to construct the ships necessary to save the Phelan race. He described the nova and the violence with which the four fleets had been flung starward on their long voyages. He described what it had been like to grow up watching the tiny yellow spark of the sun grow steadily brighter, and to wonder what humankind’s reaction would be once they learned of the Phelan.

Those in the hall listened in complete silence as Faslorn reminded them of the wonders that would flow if only they would give his people refuge. For more than twenty minutes, he painted a glowing picture of the bright future that awaited human and Phelan alike. Finally, he stopped and scanned the sea of round human faces around him.

“If you accept us into your lives, ladies and gentlemen, we will provide you all of the benefits that flow from superior knowledge. However, I would be remiss if I did not remind you that we have another option. For the past 100 hours, many of your leaders have urged that your ships of war be used to drive us back into interstellar space. Since retreat is impossible, we will resist all such efforts with all of the means at our disposal. Any attempt to interfere with the Third Fleet will be considered an act of war.

Many of you are undoubtedly wondering whether we have the power to fight the human race on its home territory. That is only natural. After all, some in this body have accused us of being liars and braggarts. A healthy skepticism is a useful thing in any thinking being, but too great a mistrust can be dangerous. So that you know that we can do what I say, we will now provide a small demonstration of our power.”

Faslorn turned and walked back to his seat. The hall was filled with expectation as Tory scanned the bewildered looks that followed him. It was a few minutes before anyone noticed that the light streaming in through the windows had begun to fade.

CHAPTER 27

Garth Van Zandt sat on the bridge of the Cruiser
Aurora
and watched the light sail climb the black sky as Luna’s Orientale Basin slid silently astern below him. The jagged peaks and jumbled floor of the giant impact crater were crossed by long shadows as both the alien starship and the glowing orb of the sun climbed into view above the tan-brown horizon line. At a range of only 200,000 kilometers,
Far Horizons
’s light sail was the largest object in the black sky. It dwarfed even the full Earth that hovered directly astern.

“Target in sight,” Terence Bremer, Van Zandt’s second in command commented over the intercom. “That’s one Big Mother!”

“Big, but fragile,” Van Zandt replied. “The light sail is only a few angstroms thick most places.”

Following the revelation in the system council that a huge number of Phelan light sails and starships were inbound toward Sol, fleet headquarters had ordered
Aurora
and four other warcraft to Luna to await the passage of
Far Horizons
en route to its final parking orbit. Headquarters’ orders were to shadow the alien craft and await further orders. Since Van Zandt was the only officer in the Navy who had been aboard the starship, he had been given overall command of the small fleet. It was a command he would have as soon foregone.

“Gawd, Captain! Look at that!”

“I see it.”

A bright spark had formed at one edge of the sail and was slowly gliding across its surface toward the sail’s center. Garth was perplexed by the phenomenon until the spot revealed itself a distorted image of the Earth. The angle of incidence between
Aurora
and the light sail was just right that the mirrored surface was reflecting the light from the full Earth directly at them.

“What’s going on?” Bremer asked.

“They must be reorienting the sail for a course change. Comm officer, notify fleet command. Eyes, get me a reading on the sail attitude and a projection of their new tack.”

“Right, Captain.”

If the Phelan commanding
Far Horizons
had detected the fleet orbiting Luna and was attempting to flee, he was wasting his time. It would be hours before they would build up any significant change in their velocity. Even this close to Sol, the starship’s acceleration rate was only a few hundredths of a standard gravity. The ships under Garth’s command could make three gees of sustained acceleration. They would overtake the light sail before it could possibly move out of range.

Ten minutes passed. The tilt of the sail was such that Earth’s reflection was no longer being diverted precisely in their direction. The surface of the sail was now undulating slowly. Whoever was controlling it was taking a risk. If the flapping became severe, the sail could be ripped asunder. Wherever the starship commander was going, he was in a hurry.

“It looks like they’re tacking hard to reflect light along their line of flight, Captain,” the radar operator reported.

“They’re slowing?”

“Looks like it. No measurable velocity change yet, but tilting the sail in that direction will have the effect of robbing them of orbital velocity.”

“Course projection?”

“None yet.”

“Keep me informed,” was Garth’s only response. Something had apparently spooked the aliens. He wondered what it had been.

Ten minutes later, the sail was tilted even more radically in the direction to reflect sunlight forward along the ship’s line of flight. The undulations were becoming much more pronounced as whoever was controlling the shroud lines fought for control.

“Any suggestions what he’s doing, Mr. Bremer?”

“Don’t know, Captain. It almost looks like he is trying a panic stop. He’s very nearly matched velocity with Earth.”

“Captain,” the sensor operated reported. “They are definitely altering their course track to the north and slowing. They are approaching the ecliptic. It looks like they’re planning to head back in-system.”