The Sails of Tau Ceti (37 page)

“None that we buy.”

Hoffenzoller signaled his impatience. “This is all very fascinating, Faslorn, but what has it to do with us?”

“Everything, Mr. First Minister. To reach another star we require a new nova. This time it will be your sun that provides the impetus to our light sails.”

For several minutes, it appeared to Tory that Boerk Hoffenzoller was going to have a stroke. She did not recognize the language he was cursing in, but there was no mistaking the emotional content of the words. Faslorn waited impassively for him and the others to run down before continuing.

“Gentlemen, let me be perfectly clear. My species has the power to destroy your star. It is a power we are loath to use, for we already have our own star on our consciences. Do not take false hope from our reluctance, however. We
will
blow up the sun if you force us to do so. If we cannot settle here, we must find another system. We have come much too far to meekly die without a fight!”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell us this before?” Hoffenzoller asked.

Faslorn explained the Phelan reluctance to tell the whole truth, even when it seemed as though everything was lost.

“Sadibayan?” the first councilor asked when Faslorn finished.

The ambassador to the Phelan shrugged. “He’s right about there being hell to pay when this gets out.”

Tory interrupted by saying, “That is why it must never get out. It has to remain a secret among those of us in this room.”

Hoffenzoller cast a glare in her direction. “This news is too damned important to be kept from the people.”

“I repeat, Mr. First Councilor. Their lives depend on it being kept secret.”

“What would you have us do?” the first councilor asked.

“Accept the Phelan, of course.”

“I doubt it possible to accept them, Miss Bronson. They can’t be trusted.”

“That is the same reason the commanders of the Third Fleet will give when they blow up the sun. Surely you prefer talking to dying!”

“There would appear to be very little to talk about,” he said. We cannot very well absorb 2.8 billion new mouths on this planet. We’d all starve.”

“It’s a problem, but possibly not as intractable a one as you think.” She strained to sound as reasonable as she could. She had no idea how successful she was.

Joshua Kravatz spoke for the first time. “How do we know they can do what they claim?”

“There is the Tau Ceti nova,” Tory reminded him. “Care to bet the lives of your constituents that they are bluffing?”

“We’ve the Navy to protect us, you know.”

“The starships will start beaming well beyond the orbit of Pluto. By the time even a single light sail comes into range of the Navy, it will be too late.”

“It is already too late,” Faslorn said from beside her. “If Marines have boarded
Far Horizons
, the fleet commanders will order immediate redeployment.”

“Have they boarded, Mr. First Minister?”

His answer was to avoid her gaze. His eyes were downcast as he reported; “The Navy gained control of
Far Horizons
two hours ago.”

There was a quiet wail from the Phelan end of the table. It was Maratel. “All is lost! Capture or destruction of the scout ship is the one thing that will convince the fleet that humans can’t be trusted.”

Tory’s head snapped around so quickly that she felt the strain in her vertebra.
“Then don’t tell them!”

For the first time in a long time, Tory thought she had truly surprised Faslorn. His blink of astonishment was almost human. “What?”

“If news of the boarding will set them off, then don’t tell them,” she repeated, once again straining to be the voice of reasonableness. “Your ship’s communications are inoperative, so they couldn’t have gotten off a warning message. Nor has the operation been announced in our media. How will they find out?”

“There will be such reports.”

“Not if the first councilor acts quickly to clamp a lid of secrecy on it. There are still some secrets we can keep when we have to.”

“You are asking me to lie to my commanders.”

“You’ve had me lying to my people for three long years. Now it is your turn. With the fate of both our species at stake, don’t you think a few little white lies are in order?”

Tory felt despair seeping forth as Faslorn did not answer. The emotion was overtaken by a bubbling sense of hope as the senior Phelan turned to the others and began speaking in rapid-fire alien speech. It went on for several minutes, with all four of the Phelan taking part. When it was over, Faslorn turned to his human audience.

“Mr. First Councilor. Do you think you can keep the attack from being leaked to your media?”

“I can try.”

“Do you believe there is something to negotiate?”

“I dislike very much talking under a cloud of threats, Faslorn, but considering the stakes, I’m willing to try if you are.”

“Then we will make the attempt. It will likely be fruitless in the end, but we owe both of our species the attempt. Please, let us resume our negotiations.”

“When and where?” Tory demanded.

This time it was the humans’ turn to huddle. When they had finished their impassioned whispers, the first councilor said, “Since there are preparations to be made to ensure that the situation stabilizes, I suggest a 24-hour delay.”

“And the Marines aboard my ship?” Faslorn asked.

“I won’t order them to withdraw, but I will order them to treat your people correctly. So long as no attempt is made to use your light sail as a weapon, no hostile act will result. I will also provide you with a secure channel of communications to your ship so that you can give your own orders.”

Faslorn turned to Tory. “Do the arrangements satisfy you, Victoria?”

She let out a huge sigh of relief. “They’re not perfect, but they beat blowing up the sun.”

No one answered, but from their postures and expressions, it was obvious that, for once, Phelan and humans agreed on something.

CHAPTER 29

Tory Bronson stood at the edge of the roof garden and gazed out across the lights of the city toward where the first glow of impending dawn was visible. The spot of gray on the horizon matched her mood precisely. The tension of the past two years, followed by the agony of the last two weeks, had left her feeling drained and empty. It was as though nothing really mattered any longer. To hell with the fate of stars, planets, or entire species! All she really wanted was to be left alone, to submerge herself in the sensual caress of the wind, and to forget the marathon bargaining session in the living quarters behind her.

Faslorn, Boerk Hoffenzoller and their respective staffs had been at it for six days solid, with halts called for hurried meals and a few hours grudgingly devoted to sleep. Progress had been slow. Yet, after several false starts, they had finally hammered out a deal that both human and Phelan could live with. What had seemed impossible the day before the eclipse had now become merely improbable. Intellectually, Tory could cheer the progress they had made. Emotionally, she found it impossible to dredge up any enthusiasm.

Nor had they made home orbit yet. There was still a plethora of details to work out, any one of which might yet prove insurmountable. Even if Faslorn agreed to a draft treaty, there were the masters of the Third Fleet to convince. It would be a full year before a message outlining the treaty reached them and they made their opinions known. A year was a long time to wait for an answer when the fate of all humanity hung in the balance.

The tentative language of the treaty called for humanity to cede the Phelan all the large tracts that had originally been considered for their use. Phelan colonies would be established in Australia, Antarctica, and the Sahara Desert, but limited to a total population of less than one hundred million. Mars would accept half that number, while the other space colonies would open their doors to token numbers of refugees.

As for ninety percent of the two billion Phelan en route to Sol, they would remain aboard their ships, orbiting between Venus and Earth. Having already survived two-and-a-half centuries in space, they could survive a few more decades while they constructed large space colonies in which to live. Once in orbit about Sol, the fear that their ships would slowly break down was no longer valid. With the resources of a star system at their disposal, they could overhaul all their ships and, if need be, live in them for another century or two. With so many humans already dwelling above atmosphere, it was likely that neither species would ever again be totally planet-bound.

The Phelan would be given long term, low interest loans to finance initial construction of their colonies. As each colony was occupied, it would be expected to become economically independent. The Phelan would sell their technology to the highest bidder, while paying fair market prices for the resources they consumed.

To aid in the assimilation, humans would be encouraged to emigrate to all the alien colonies. There they would live, learning Phelan ways, and hopefully, helping both species learn the hard lessons of living together.

In return for the colonies, the Phelan ships would disarm immediately upon arrival. As soon as each ship achieved its permanent orbit, it would jettison its light sail. The loss of the light sails would produce two highly beneficial (from the human viewpoint) conditions. It would deprive the Phelan craft of their most fearsome weapon, while committing their passengers irretrievably to the assimilation process. Without the means to ride a nova shock wave to the stars, it was unlikely the Phelan would trigger an explosion in the sun. Yet, by retaining their ability to do so, the aliens protected themselves against human treachery. Any serious attempt to exterminate them in the future would become an exercise in mutual suicide.

It was far from a perfect solution, but the best that could be worked out. For the past forty-eight hours, negotiations had centered on working out the details of the treaty. As often as not, the human factions had turned to arguing with one another, while the Phelan maneuvered for as much advantage as they could wrest from the chaos. More times than she could count, Tory had found herself the target of evil looks as she advised Faslorn that he was walking into a trap.

That had been what had finally sapped her will. The hatred toward her had been palpable. After one particularly violent clash with Praesert Sadibayan, she had stalked away from the table and disappeared into the predawn darkness. It had been her intention to calm her raging thoughts, and then return to the task. Calming her emotions had proven more difficult than expected. Nearly two hours later, she stood alone under the stars and watched the impending sunrise.

Dawn was only minutes away when a momentary increase in illumination behind her announced that someone else had come out into the garden. Irritated, she turned to see Katherine Claridge walking toward her. Though Kit had been working with the alien assessment teams since they had reached Earth, their paths had rarely crossed. Because of their experience with the Phelan, Kit and Eli Guttieriz had both been called in to support the first councilor during negotiations.

“Hello,” Kit said as she reached Tory’s side. The crunching sound her shoes made in the gravel of the pathway seemed supernaturally loud in the predawn quiet. “Aren’t you freezing out here in that light outfit?”

Tory ran her hands over the goose bumps that dotted her upper arms even as she shook her head. “It helps to clear my mind.”

Kit tilted her head back to look straight upward. She said, “I see you’ve found a good vantage point for the show.”

“Something like that,” Tory muttered. “Is that why you’ve come out here?”

“I was feeling bad about the way Ambassador Sadibayan treated you in there. When you did not come back, I decided to find you. You look like someone who needs a friend to talk to.”

“Are we? Friends, that is?”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I’m surprised anyone would want to be my friend after…”

“After what?” Kit asked in a mild voice.

As Tory turned to Kit, she felt a dam burst somewhere deep within. For more than two years, she had guarded her every word. Suddenly, all the things she had wanted to say came gushing forth in a torrent. She sobbed as she recounted how she had been trapped into helping the Phelan, and what it had been like to be the sole human to know that the sun could explode any time. She told of the constant fear of discovery, and the uncertainty that came from living a lie twenty-four hours a day. By the time she finished, tears were flooding freely down her cheeks.

Through it all, Kit listened without comment. When Tory finally turned away to wipe her eyes in the near darkness, Kit asked, “Feel better now?”

Kit sensed rather than saw the tiny upturnings at the corners of Tory’s mouth. Her voice was less anguished as well. “A little.”

“No wonder. You have had a great deal bottled up inside for a long time. I’m surprised you were able to handle it as long as you did.”

Tory turned back to the doctor. She pleaded, “Tell me the truth, Kit. Did I do the right thing?”

There was a long pause. When Kit finally spoke, it was with more hesitation than Tory had expected. “I think I understand why you did what you did, Tory. I am not qualified to answer whether it was right thing or not. Neither, I might add, are any of those loudmouths inside. If all this works out, then you did the right thing. If not, I guess it really doesn’t matter.”

“You should hear what they’re saying about me on the talk shows.”

“I have. Saying something loudly doesn’t make it so, you know.”

“But damn it, I did it for them!” The anguish had crept back into Tory’s voice.

“Unfortunately, gratitude is not one of our species’ strong points. It will be a long time before people understand what you’ve been through.”

“Do you think they’ll ever forgive me?”

Kit shrugged. “Some will, some won’t. You pay that price sometimes. Besides, it is not important whether the public understands your motivations or not. You know why you did it, and all that really counts is whether you can live with yourself afterward.”