James P. Hogan (7 page)

The line of conversation suited Lois perfectly. Far from having come to sell anything, her prime concern was evaluating what
Aurora
stood to gain. From what she had heard so far, Clure could have been one of the program’s founders. “So, what are you doing here?” she couldn’t help asking, gesturing at the room. She glanced at Gratz. He nodded at Clure to go ahead.

Clure smiled, as if at an inner joke. “I’m a subversive, don’t you see? A threat to the security of the state. Actually, the charge was of being a member of a banned political organization that I’ve never had any connection with. But that was just a frame-up to —” He caught the beginnings of an objection from Gratz. “Oh, come on, Borgio, you know I was framed. No, I didn’t expect you to dig too deeply into it as my defense. You had your orders.” He looked back at Lois before Gratz could take them off track. “To keep me out of circulation because too many people were listening to the things I was saying, and thinking about them. I guess I’m not very, what you’d call… ‘tactful’ in these matters. The thought of organized opposition doesn’t go down well with the people who run things around here.”

“What kind of things were you saying?” Lois asked.

“The kinds of thing we were talking about a moment ago. The people who do the work and produce all the real value deserve better. But they’re kept down and exploited by parasites who rule through violence and fear, and have stolen enough to buy protection for themselves.” Clure tossed Gratz a look that said he could think anything he wanted. “There has to be a better way. This way was how the old world ran, and look what happened.”

Lois held his eye, but her expression remained enigmatic. “Do you think there could be a better way, Mr. Clure?”

“Maybe, if enough people believed in it, and were capable of organizing themselves to meet force with force if they had to, to protect it. Someone has to try. Look at the way things are starting to go again already. But the ones who make it that way are not as invincible as people think. They have to lie. Inside, they’re cowards, and they scare easily. Why else do you think I’m here?”

Gratz was breathing heavily, but he managed to contain himself. A silence fell for several seconds while Lois stared at Clure fixedly. Finally, she said in a curious voice, “Suppose I told you that there are people who have resolved to build just such a world as you describe. A new world, elsewhere, far from the reemerging forces that would destroy it. How would you feel about playing a part?”

Gratz seized the chance to get back onto the track that he understood. “I would advise you to go while you still can,” he told Clure. “Right now, you are regarded as a nuisance. If you ever looked like becoming a serious threat, there would be no way out for you, ever.”

Clure looked at him searchingly, across at Lois, clearly intrigued now, and then back at Gratz. “Exactly what are we talking about? How soon could this be arranged?”

“The papers are prepared now, in the main office downstairs,” Gratz replied. “Ms. Iles has transport waiting. You can leave with her.”

They talked for maybe another half hour, but there was already no doubt as to Clure’s decision. He drove with Lois and Gratz back to the lander, where Quentago was produced and the exchange concluded. The lander took off shortly afterward to rejoin the mother craft from the
Aurora
. Lois was more than happy with the day’s business. It was the best trade she had seen made in a long time.

The reasons for Sofi’s enormous technological lead over the assortment of disconnected states, provinces, and tribal lands that made up the rest of the world went back to the times immediately following the Conflagration. One of the foremost was the concentration of extraordinarily capable people in the population that arose there out of the ruins of the old world. Some believed that the old world had never fully died in that region, and its inhabitants were a remnant of essentially pre-Conflagration stock who had kept their genetic and cultural identity intact, along with much of their skills and aptitudes. Such a notion was certainly in keeping with the readiness with which they were able to absorb and apply the repositories of old-world knowledge that they found around themselves or sent expeditions to recover from elsewhere – lost, for the most part, on the populations of other areas. In this way, Sofi became a legendary sanctuary, spoken of with awe, that the talented and gifted would give up their old lives and journey across the world to join. The resulting one-way diffusion of ability and learning translated into a superiority that as a matter of policy was kept firmly within Sofi’s borders.

This inevitably gave rise to envy and ambitions of rivalry both in neighboring areas and farther abroad, among those whose preferred way of procuring the necessaries of life was to take them by force from whoever produced or otherwise possessed them. In response, the Sofians had, over the years, developed a numerically small but effective military capability. It didn’t have to be large, because the superiority of Sofi’s weaponry to anything that a potential opponent could bring to bear rendered a credible threat nonexistent. One of the principal rationales for Sofi’s isolationist stance was to keep things that way.

A consequence of this was the lack of any incentive to create a global trading and communications infrastructure of the kind that had existed before – there wasn’t much out there to trade or communicate with. So, instead of being broad-based and universal, Sofian technologies evolved to be narrow-focused and intensive.

In place of tens of thousands of airliners, they produced a few high-performance aircraft, some experimental space probes, and finally a starship. As the uniqueness of Sofia’s situation consolidated, two opposed movements developed within the political leadership regarding the future course to which they should direct themselves.

The “Traditionalists” kept to the original Sofian position that saw expansionism and the desire to impose one’s own ways as the root of the conflicts that had ended the old world through an endless cycle of resentment, resistance, retaliation, and revenge. Instead, they believed that staying out of the affairs of others, while maintaining an impregnable position at home and setting an example by their own quality of life, would demonstrate the superiority of peaceful and prosperous cooperation. In the same way that the more enlightened and capable individuals came to Sofi of their own accord when they were ready, so would other nations and peoples move to become part of a widening community of like minds. Yes, it would take time and patience, but look what had happened to the world that had tried to rush things.

The other position, that of the “Progressives,” had found its voice later, when Sofi’s pre-eminence was past dispute. It saw an opportunity to unify the world under one system of thought and ideals that would never come again, and should be seized while no force existed that could stop it. The self-immolation of the old world had resulted from a virtually equal power balance between vast political-economic groupings, each believing in its own invincibility, which had guaranteed the escalation of violence to global dimensions. No such obstacle existed to prevent Sofi from asserting its hegemony everywhere today, and establishing a worldwide order of stability that would last. Boldness and resolve had brought the Sofians to where they were. The same qualities would ensure they remained there permanently.

If a division this deep was appearing within Sofi itself, did it mean the beginnings of the same pattern as before, that would spread over the world once again, inexorably and unstoppably, anyway? That was when the Traditionalists, who had originated the starship program as a mission of exploration and discovery, broadened the concept to one of creating their own world elsewhere based on the ideals that they championed.

From records that remained, it was known that, at an undetermined time before the Conflagration ended their interest in such matters, a consortium of scientific groups from the old world – some of them enigmatically sponsored by political blocs that seemed to be rivals – had launched an unmanned star probe to investigate an interesting planetary system revealed by astronomical observations. The information sent back by the probe began arriving during the recovery period, when Sofi was coming together as a nation and gaining experience with fledgling astronomical and computer-communications capabilities of its own. Successful decoding of the data provided an additional stimulus for the Sofians to go ahead with the venture they had been considering – to build a starship inspired by an old-world follow-up design study that had never been taken further. As the plans and charts gave way to the physical reality of the immense structure taking shape in orbit, the concept was expanded to become Sofian Traditionalists’ means of realizing their ideal of the future on a world of another star. The world their descendants would arrive at was a planet of the system that the old-world robot probe had traveled to long ago, where it was still in orbit, waiting. The planet’s name had not been changed from the one the ancient builders of the probe had given it: Hera.

The task of defending the state would become more demanding after the
Aurora
’s departure, while Sofi adjusted to its changed situation. In anticipation, the past six months had seen a stepping up of military recruiting, accompanied by intensified training and regular practice maneuvers. Much of this activity was staged in the vicinity of the launch bases serving the
Aurora
program where the forces involved could be called in quickly if needed. Opposition to the venture existed in various forms and for various reasons both abroad and within Sofi itself, and the launch bases would be the obvious targets of any attempt to disrupt operations.

As an officer with the Internal Security Office of the Sofian military, Andri Lubanov had a duty to protect
Aurora
as part of the official policy enacted by the Traditionalist-dominated Sofian government. However, he didn’t agree with the philosophy that it reflected. If people wanted to found a colony somewhere else, that was fine; and getting away from tyranny had probably played a major part in shaping human history. But for a group who belonged to a potentially world-dominating culture to be talking about emigrating to another star to be able to live the way they wished made no sense. To Lubanov’s way of thinking, they were letting themselves be chased out by inferiors. The Sofians had the ability to create whatever kind of society they wanted right here on Earth, to extend it as far as they chose, and there was nothing out there to prevent them.

But Lubanov went beyond the stated Progressive position by privately expressing the opinion that the mission as currently planned constituted a defection on the debt owed to Sofi for making it possible at all. This brought his name to the attention of what had begun as a clandestine circle within the Sofian military, that felt likewise and were resolved not to let the debt just fly away without some kind of settlement. Lubanov was approached, evaluated, cautiously introduced to their plans, and eventually became one of them.

As the day scheduled for
Aurora
’s liftout from orbit drew nearer, the number of Progressives harboring similar resentments swelled to become an effective but officially unrecognized opposition voice within the Sofian administration. Its position was basically that all of Sofi had contributed to
Aurora
’s becoming a reality, and therefore all of Sofi should be acknowledged as having rights of ownership. Departure should be postponed while the terms under which the two factions would part were renegotiated. These would cover the redirecting of some of
Aurora
’s concentration of resources to leaving Sofi better prepared to face its own future, inducements for certain key figures to change their minds about leaving, and suchlike.

It went without saying that the reactions of the Traditionalists were not expected to be exactly enthusiastic, and therefore a bargaining position would need to be secured. This would take the form of a swift move to occupy and take control of the launch bases before the last shuttle-loads of personnel and supplies were sent up to the ship. The operation was designated Torus. It would be set in motion by the issuing of the code words “Winter Rain.”

Lubanov met Dreese for lunch in the usual place, the outside terrace of a waterside café on the east side of the Frisc peninsula, looking out over the bay that opened to the ocean via a narrow neck of water. A sprawl of connected metropolitan centers had grown on the northern part of the peninsula, over the ruins of a former city, with space-engineering complexes and launch facilities situated farther south. Some of the better-preserved structures of the old city had been restored as museums or historical exhibits. The bridge crossing the bay to the east was built on the piers of an old-world bridge that had stood in the same place; sections of it had endured sufficiently to be incorporated into the newer construction. The channel connecting the bay to the ocean in the west had been spanned by an even more spectacular bridge, but it had collapsed or been destroyed, and the Sofians had replaced it with a tunnel.

Dreese was on the intelligence staff, and also involved in Torus. The officer that he reported to, referred to as Actor and never named directly, would be directing the planned coup. Lubanov’s position with Internal Security involved regular contact with the
Aurora
project administration, making him ideally placed to monitor their progress and keep the Torus group informed. His meeting with Dreese was in connection with a report that Lubanov had supplied several days previously on the latest developments.

“So would you say that the program is about on schedule?” Dreese asked after they had gone over some of the details. “We’re still looking at lifting out from orbit six weeks from now?” He was squat and solidly built, with a swarthy complexion and full black beard. While he claimed Sofian birth and a military pedigree, Lubanov’s sources indicated him to be from a mining background in the desert region on the far side of the eastern mountains, having originated somewhere in the interior. Not that it mattered very much. But Lubanov had worked in intelligence and security for many years in his distant native region before coming to Sofi, and liking to know the real story behind things had become part of his nature.