Fade Out (22 page)

Connors looked at Wedderkind. ‘This all sounds like bad news to me.'

Wedderkind held up a calming hand. ‘If he was able to bury himself, it's obvious he must be able to move around underground – if only to stay out of trouble. At least we know how he does it – he melts the rock and floats through it. It then cools and solidifies behind him.'

‘Great. Which way has he gone – up, down, or sideways?'

‘From what Max has said, it must be sideways.'

‘North, south, east, or west?'

Wedderkind shook his head. ‘We may need to drill several boreholes to check that, but if he stays near the surface, we can pick up his location by more aerial infrared pictures. If he decides to go deeper, the pattern given off by the heat will be too diffuse. And if he cools down, then we've got problems. This cutoff zone that is wrapped around him is also zapping the radio-wave detection equipment one would normally use for geological surveys.'

Connors tried again. ‘Isn't there some kind of instrument that works off shock waves – in the way they trace earthquakes?'

‘Yes – using seismographic techniques. We set up two units this afternoon on either side of the ridge. The waves are supposed to bounce back the way radar does. The readings are completely cluttered up with random echoes. Crusoe is beaming out varying-strength shock waves that are bouncing back and forth off every chunk of rock inside the ridge. We know he's in there, but that's about all.'

‘So he's still ahead.'

‘For the moment,' said Wedderkind. ‘But at least we now know Crusoe is programmed to avoid unwelcome contacts.'

Connors glanced around the table. ‘I would have thought the whole point of his arrival was to
make
contact.'

‘We're proceeding on that assumption,' said Wedderkind. ‘But that depends on what Crusoe is. If he's an automated package of instruments, he may be capable of nothing more than “on-off”, “yes-no” responses that
would enable him to survive in a hostile environment. His reactions up to now could fit into a framework of low-level instinctual responses – in this case, to avoid any contact which might threaten his functional integrity. If he is a very sophisticated package of machinery, we could expect a more complex range of responses to external stimuli. There is also the more remote possibility that Crusoe could contain some kind of alien life-form. I'm inclined to discount this idea myself.'

‘The question may seem premature,' said Connors, ‘but have any of your people come to any conclusions about Crusoe's mission? I know none of us has seen him, but there now seems a real risk that we may
never
see him at all.'

Wedderkind ticked off the possibilities on his fingers. ‘It can be a one-way static reconnaissance probe like Russia's Venera, designed to land by parachute on Venus and then transmit back data about its immediate surroundings. It can be a one-trip mobile reconnaissance vehicle like the Lunakhod moon-bug controlled from its point of origin. If that was outside our solar system, it might take years before it received a signal to activate it. It would make more sense to send a preprogrammed vehicle able to monitor its environment and modify its mission accordingly.

‘The third possibility is a two-way mobile version of LEM, the Lunar Module used in the Apollo missions, operating by itself, or in conjunction with a command module – or mother ship – orbiting within the solar system, but not necessarily around Earth, and to which it could return. This type of vehicle could be preprogrammed for its mission, or be remote-controlled from the command ship.'

‘Or be manned,' said Connors.

‘It could be,' replied Wedderkind, ‘but we might not be able to verify that.'

‘Could you explain why?' Up to this point, Allbright had been listening quietly to the exchanges between Connors and Wedderkind.

‘I'll try, General. In preparing for an event like this, the fundamental problem has always been how the human mind can grasp the concepts of an alien intelligence, or even recognize its existence.

‘There may be biological or physiological limitations that make it impossible. Take the computer – it can perform many of the functions of the human brain, it can calculate, store, recall, and analyse data, but it is incapable of any abstract conceptual processes. Yet can we really grasp the concept of, say – infinity? We now accept the idea of time as the fourth dimension – but how many of us can visualize the fifth, sixth, or even tenth dimension that is theoretically possible? Man lives in a finite world. He needs to know how far, how fast, how large, how heavy…'

‘But nevertheless,' insisted Allbright,
‘something is physically
down there.' He looked at Connors and then to Wedderkind for confirmation.

‘Yes.'

‘And if we don't find some way of getting to it,' said Connors, ‘it could move away from under Crow Ridge.'

‘That's possible.'

‘What ideas have you got, Arnold?'

‘There's something I've worked out with Max that I'd like to try.'

Max went to the blackboard in the corner of the room and picked up a piece of chalk. ‘We've managed to locate a number of cartridge-fired diesel rigs…' He drew a small circle in the middle of the board, then put two large, shaky concentric circles around it.

‘Around these two rings at one hundred and two hundred yards from the crater, we're going to drill a series of boreholes fifty yards apart.' Max spattered chalky dots around the edge of the inner circle. ‘These holes'll be drilled down to a depth of five hundred feet…' He jabbed on some more chalk dots. ‘… These here in the outside ring we're going to sink down to one thousand feet.'

Max tapped one of the dots. ‘Down each hole, we're going to put an insulated detonator wired to an explosive charge. One hundred pounds in the inner ring, five hundred pounds on the outer ring. The charges will detonate if Crusoe burns his way through the shaft.'

Connors frowned. ‘Do you have to use explosives?'

Wedderkind fielded the question. ‘It's a calculated risk. Crusoe's hull
must
be built to withstand sustained heat and pressure. The charge will be exploded by the molten rock, not Crusoe. But the shock wave will register on his hull, and should produce a reaction. He didn't like being hit with the drill.'

‘Okay. What do you hope to achieve?'

Wedderkind tapped his glasses back into place. ‘There's been a logical sequence to his actions up to now. I want to try to check his capability for logical analysis – and I also want to try to convey our intentions to him.

‘If he breaks through the first ring, and then the second, he should register the fivefold increase in the explosive charge. If
we
were down there, we'd probably conclude there could be a series of rings with progressively stronger charges. I'm hoping he'll understand that this is a controlled reaction on our part.'

‘To let him know we could blow him out of the ground if we wanted to,' said Connors.

Wedderkind nodded. ‘And that the safest place is back inside the circle. The whole idea is to let him know
we
know he's down there – and that we are not trying to destroy him.'

‘How long is it going to take to organize this operation?' asked Connors.

Max removed his cigar. ‘If the General will let some of his boys man the rigs, five, maybe six days. Seven at the outside.'

‘Do you have any comments, General?'

‘The cadets have volunteered to carry out any duty assigned to them. However, I would like to ask Mr Wedderkind if he considers this containment operation might endanger the safety of the personnel on the site.'

‘Arnold?'

‘General, we are all risking our lives just being here. Insofar as
this
plan is concerned, I don't see any need to evacuate the Ridge.'

‘Max?'

‘No problem…'

‘There's always the possibility of a reaction from Crusoe,' said Wedderkind. ‘But no one can predict what that might be. So far, everything points towards the fact that Crusoe is
avoiding
a confrontation. If his intentions were hostile, they would have been manifestly apparent by now.'

A wintry smile flickered across Allbright's face. ‘A little while back you advanced the idea that we might find it difficult to understand an alien intelligence. Alien hostility – if such a thing exists, may also take a form we might find difficult to recognize.'

‘That's a good point,' said Connors.

Wedderkind spread out his palms. ‘Which proves exactly what I was saying. General Allbright is quite correct. As a human being, I'm programmed to recognize as hostile only those actions which, by their nature, fall within the limits of meaning we have assigned to the
overall concept. For example, we might define the ultimate hostile act as the taking of life. To us, life and death are quantifiable states. Life we revere, death we abhor, in varying degrees according to our religion or philosophy. But they are both essentially
human
states, and, as such, could be beyond the grasp of an alien intelligence.'

‘But surely,' said Connors, ‘the existence and definition of life must be something that we share with every other sentient being throughout the Cosmos.'

‘Perhaps the same biological definition,' said Wedderkind, ‘but we also define life as being the period between birth and death. Our attitude to life is related to the death which must inevitably follow. But what if there were no death – but merely a continuing cycle of existence? What if the makers of Crusoe were immortal?'

‘I get the idea,' said Connors. ‘I just don't see how it relates to our present situation.'

‘It sprang out of General Allbright's question. I think what I'm trying to say is that an alien intelligence could profoundly change the circumstances and nature of our existence without being able to understand that the effect might be, in human terms, totally disastrous.'

‘You mean in the way the loss of radar has fouled up the domestic airline situation,' said Connors.

‘
And
seriously weakened our capacity to defend ourselves against a surprise nuclear rocket attack,' added Allbright.

‘They are both limited examples of what I'm getting at,' said Wedderkind. ‘I was really thinking about the serious long-range effects of more fundamental changes in the Earth's environment.'

‘Such as?' asked Connors.

Wedderkind ticked off the possibilities starting with his thumb. ‘De-ionization of the atmosphere – that would let through harmful, probably fatal radiation from the sun.
Diminution of the Earth's gravitational force, so that the atmosphere leaks off into space. This is what may have happened on Mars. Displacement of the Earth's axis of rotation so that the polar regions shift to the equator. We know it has happened before – millions of years ago, the North Pole was around Hawaii, and the equator ran up through North America at an angle of forty-five degrees a few miles north of Chicago.

‘Disturbance of the Earth's crust causing the level of the seabed to rise. Think what would happen to the map if the water level rose two hundred feet – permanently.'

Connors stopped him before he got to his little finger. ‘That's great. The President is going to love all that. I'm supposed to be taking back
good
news.'

‘They are only ideas, Bob. Coffee talk. Pure speculation – that need go no further than this room. All we've got at the moment is a hole in the ground. The important thing is to get those boreholes sunk around Crusoe before he moves too far.'

‘All the same, you could have mentioned some of these ideas before he came down.'

Wedderkind hunched his shoulders and spread out his palms. ‘There was no point, but if I had, was there any way of stopping him?'

There wasn't much left of the night, but tired though he was, Connors hardly slept at all.

The first of the converted bulldozers came grinding up the dirt road as Allbright walked with Connors and Wedderkind down to the line of red stakes. It was 7 A.M. The sky was absolutely clear.

A yellow Corporation jeep was waiting on the other side of the stakes to take them down to the highway.

‘I imagine you must be glad to get out of here and back to the White House,' said Allbright.

‘Not entirely. I've rather enjoyed being up at the sharp end.' Connors smiled. ‘Although I must confess I'll be relieved to get back to a water-based sanitary system.'

Allbright smiled too. ‘There are plans to have that facility available for VIPs by the time you return.'

‘I appreciate the gesture,' said Connors, ‘but I think we ought to hold off on all the frills until Crusoe is boxed in. It's absolutely vital we maintain contact. If Crusoe moves out from under Crow Ridge, we'll be left sitting on top of nothing but the world's most expensive toilet.'

‘I've got a clear picture of the priorities, Mr Connors. Have a safe trip.'

As they passed through the control point, Connors saw that the civilian contractors were already at work setting up the posts for the high chain link fence around Bodell's land. He also noticed that cadets guarding the gate had got rid of their shotguns.

Down at the base camp on Highway 22, Connors went through the medical checks under Wedderkind's watchful eye. They included the usual blood and urine samples, cardiogram, and encephalogram. Wedderkind wanted to carry out some research to see if there was any relation between individual brain-wave patterns and people's physical reactions to Crusoe's protective field.

‘Are you sure you won't come back to Washington with me?' It was the second time Connors had put the question to Wedderkind.

‘Not unless you make it an order.'

‘Arnold, nothing is going to happen here until the end of the week.'