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Authors: Jr. L. E. Modesitt

Solar Express (34 page)

BOOK: Solar Express
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What he'd rigged up was almost the reverse of what he'd had in mind originally. The two space anchors wouldn't anchor the ISV in place, but the heavy line between them would, in the middle of which was a signal repeater, to which one end of the fiber-optic line was connected leading to the spooling mechanism on the ISV. That arrangement would, if Tavoian had calculated correctly, allow him and the ship's AI to direct the ISV, with the tunable laser, down the larger outer passageway to the lower partly open doors and to run a series of photosensitivity tests on “door frames” that might not be quite as damaged as those more exposed.

Once the ISV was reequipped, he sealed the inner lock door, returned to the controls, where he opened the outer lock door and dispatched the ISV toward the artifact, watching the longliner closely to see if it responded in any way to the small craft. So far as Tavoian could tell, there was no response.

USE OF LOCK FOR REPAIRS AND DISPATCH HAS NOW USED TEN PERCENT OF RESERVE AIR SUPPLY.

The AI's calm announcement stunned Tavoian.
You've only been here three days and you've gone through that much?
Did they expect that he'd launch the ISV and never add equipment to it or repair it?
Another thing to consider.

It took more than an hour for the rover to position the two tubing starbursts inside the openings and then return to the ISV. Almost another hour passed before the rover had positioned the signal repeater in the middle of the cable and the ship's AI could begin to direct the ISV down the “outside” passageway between the two hexagonal chambers.

A slim chance, but what else can you do with what you have?

Once the ISV was in position so that the tunable laser could focus on the side of the partly open door—the one directly below where one of the starbursts was positioned—Tavoian said, “Tune the laser to the same wavelength reflected by the surface immediately adjacent to the opening and direct the beam across the surface adjacent to the opening. Monitor results at all wavelengths.”

THERE IS NO REACTION.

Based on what had happened before, that didn't surprise Tavoian, but he wanted to use the same steps as before. “Have the laser run the test and reaction pattern. Report on the reflected light.”

PROCEEDING WITH TEST.

The AI reported after the test finished,
THERE WAS A DECREASE IN EXPECTED REFLECTIVITY WHEN THE LASER BEAM MATCHED THE COLOR OF THE SURFACE BESIDE THE OPENING. THAT DECREASE WAS SEVEN POINT THREE PERCENT.

Encouraging, it still doesn't tell you what's happening to that energy.
“What about absorption and retention as heat?”

THE SURFACE TEMPERATURE REMAINS UNCHANGED.

“Try the tests on the openings to the next chamber.”

The AI directed the ISV to the lower opening of the adjoining hexagonal chamber. The results were the same, down to the percentage points. While that tended to confirm the photosensitivity of the “door frames,” and the fact that the doorways exposed to whatever force had severed the artifact from the larger sphere had less photosensitivity suggested damage …
But that could also be because they've spent thousands of years more directly exposed to solar and other radiation.

“Focus the laser on the door frame at maximum intensity for the maximum time that will optimize the intensity and not damage the laser, its power supply, or any other part of the equipment or ISV. Not more than two minutes.” Tavoian wasn't quite certain why he'd put in a time limit, but it felt right. “Report on the results.”

FOCUSING.

Tavoian waited.

THE DECREASE IN EXPECTED REFLECTIVITY WHEN THE LASER BEAM MATCHED THE COLOR OF THE SURFACE BESIDE THE OPENING WAS ELEVEN POINT FOUR PERCENT. SURFACE TEMPERATURE REMAINS UNCHANGED. THERE IS NO RADIATION OR HEAT.

More than eleven percent? Where are those photons going?

“Is there enough fiber-optic line to reach the next lower opening?”

THE REMAINING LINE IS ADEQUATE IN LENGTH.

“Then direct the ISV there.”

The ISV moved down another of the passageways set at sixty degrees from the junction … and the image went black.

“Frig!” Tavoian immediately checked the screens displaying the Sinese longliner. “What happened?”

THE SIGNAL WAS LOST. THE FIBER-OPTIC LINE INTO THE ARTIFACT REMAINS INTACT. OBSERVATION INDICATES IT HAS LOST TENSION.

“Cut off by another sharp edge.”

THAT IS THE MOST LIKELY PROBABILITY.

Tavoian just hoped that the ISV followed its programming. He kept watching the monitors.

Eighteen minutes later, the image from the ISV resumed, showing a view of the signal repeater as the ISV approached it.

“Have the ISV and rover pick up the signal repeater and then return to Recon three.”

RECOVERY UNDER WAY.

As the ship's AI handled the recovery, Tavoian drafted another message to Donovan Base, reporting the latest results, and the apparent lack of anything but miniature probe scouting by the Sinese longliner. Once he'd dispatched it, he wondered why he'd received no messages, especially from Alayna, but if the colonel hadn't relayed his message to Alayna, there was no way he was going to get a reply. He would have liked her insights. He would have liked insights from anyone. The way things were going, the colonel wanted results, but he wasn't exactly a font of suggestions, and so far, Tavoian wasn't getting any help in addressing the problems he faced.

One thing he did know. He needed more carbon cable if he wanted to do more explorations, even of the eighteen partly open hexagons. So he pulled and maneuvered his way down to the fabricator and set it to extruding more cable. He could reclaim the space anchors and reuse them.

With that done, he decided to get back to exercising, something that he'd skipped far too much for a pilot going to be in weightless conditions for far too long. It wasn't his favorite occupation, unlike some Space Service types, who gloried in it, but he definitely didn't want to pay the deferred price for not exercising.

He checked the message queue a last time.

Still no messages.

 

45

D
AEDALUS
B
ASE

11 N
OVEMBER
2114

Sunday morning hadn't found Alayna any closer to discovering anything more about the multi-fractals. Although Marcel had recorded and classified more than fifty additional near-matches, not a single pair showed enough similarity that she could have claimed, or even indirectly hinted, that the repeated closeness of matches suggested something beyond coincidence. During the last lunar day, she'd had the AI take sample image comparisons and detailed measurements at higher solar latitudes as well, but the results were what any astronomer would have expected—that the convection activity tended to slow at higher latitudes, and that there were fewer examples of the multi-fractals. The only change was the slightly higher number of sunspots over the past few days, although sunspot numbers did vary considerably, even during a solar minimum.

When she checked the messages that morning immediately after getting to the control center, she'd noted only the news summaries,
HotNews!,
and a single personal message—from her father. She didn't expect anything from the Foundation on a Sunday, and if anyone there had sent a message on a weekend, the odds were high that the contents wouldn't be good. The news summaries were routinely ominous.
HotNews!
was worse, with the story about brine shrimp not surviving in what remained of the Great Salt Lake being the least foreboding. She still hadn't heard anything recently from either Chris or the Foundation, and she wasn't sure which silence was more worrisome.

She'd waited to read the message from her father until she'd checked all the systems and made certain that all the arrays were operating as they should be, which was especially important now that Farside was full dark. She didn't need anything else to go wrong, not with both Director Wrae and the Director-Generale apparently less than pleased with her performance … and her failure to act as politically astutely as they thought they would have. In addition, although her father responded quickly most of the time, getting a reply from him in little more than a day after her last message worried her.

Dearest Alayna,

I was extraordinarily relieved when I received your latest missive, especially after learning that the Sinese Federation has threatened to retaliate against all Noram space facilities if any weaponry is used by anyone against Sinese territory or facilities anywhere in the solar system …

Where did he get that idea? It had to have come from one of his friends in the Justice Department or somewhere in government.
Except, Alayna realized, it wasn't an idea. It was a warning. She hadn't seen a word about that kind of threat in the news summaries over the last week, and she'd been perusing them down to the last word, mainly to see what news might have shown up about her discovery and to see when anyone reported Chris's ship. Were the Sinese that deluded? Or were they deluded at all? Did they really think the rest of the world would back down?
Except everyone else has, except for the Indians.
Yet, from Chris's messages, it didn't sound like the Noram Space Service was backing down.

 … with what sounds like an attempt to establish a military installation on Europa, as well as an attempt to corner another source of deuterium, the Sinese are acting in a fashion congruent to the first Chinese empires. They have decided, it would seem, that their attempts to develop a commerce-based world hegemony will continue to be thwarted by the Indian-UAAS trade and technology alliance and by the residual inventiveness of Noram, not to mention Noram's unparalleled skills in financial chicanery and manipulation. They have avoided the worst effects of their twenty-first-century population decline by absorbing almost all of east and south Asia, but the comparative prosperity they created is leaving them, again, with a declining population. Thus, it is and has been with most empires, whether they have styled themselves as such or not …

Alayna smiled. She remembered all too many impromptu lectures on the lessons of history.

 … One can only hope that saner minds will prevail, as they often have, but there have been enough times when few listened to the dry words of sanity. One way or another, you may be in one of the better locales as this scenario plays out, although I cannot imagine anyone wasting weapons on Lincoln, Nebraska, either. Even more I cannot imagine the Sinese spending resources on an isolated research installation on the far side of the Moon when there are other military and pseudo-military targets whose destruction and/or impairment would serve what they believe to be their ends more effectively.

You were always destined for discoveries, and although you downplay your efforts, it appears that you have discovered something very special, either an astronomical oddity or a potential alien artifact. I know I'm pontificating, but there are always new discoveries if you persevere, and not persevering would be a waste of your abilities …

She'd certainly heard those words before.

 … The Court of Appeals still has not set a hearing date on the case dealing with the residual groundwater rights in the Ogallala Aquifer. It may be a most pedestrian suit in these times of high drama and potential alien artifacts, but most of life is pedestrian indeed, and should be addressed with as much care and industry as the most exciting and entertaining events flogged into oblivion by the media, not that I, or most truly thoughtful individuals, find much of what is flogged to be either useful or entertaining …

Alayna smiled again, despite the scores of times that she had heard various phrasings of those words.

 … and for all of my pedantries, you must know that they are among the few ways I can express my concerns, my love, and my support for you and for your dreams … and you should know that in these parlous times.

Her father hadn't offered an effusive closing. He hadn't needed to. She swallowed several times, then blotted eyes that she hadn't realized, at first, were watering.

He's worried. Truly worried.
She'd never gotten a message quite like that from him.

After several moments, she blew her nose and checked her messages. Still nothing from the Foundation or from Chris, and it would be almost two weeks before the Moon and the optical array would be in position for her to confirm for herself that her alien object had company. There had been enough media reports about both Noram and Sinese probes, with no denials, that she was fairly certain of what she'd see. There might even have been images in the Earthside media, but without a change in comm systems and protocols, the only image comm traffic from COFAR was one-way—back to Earth. But since there were no references to images, she had doubts that any had yet appeared.

In the meantime … Her lips quirked. For all of her father's often heavy-handed advice, he was right about continuing to seek new discoveries, and that meant coming up with either another approach to her solar conundrum, or a new way of looking at or interpreting the images and data that she already had.

At that moment, the comm chimed, indicating an incoming message. She immediately called it up, smiling as much in relief as with pleasure when she saw the sender.

She immediately began to read.

Alayna—

As you must know by now, I'm part of the Noram effort to investigate your discovery. It is definitely an artifact, and does not appear to be anything created by any known human civilization …

Despite her speculations, her mouth opened. It was one thing to think that he was there. It was another to have it confirmed by him. She kept reading. Then she got to the attachments—or rather the statement that prefaced them in bold lettering.

BOOK: Solar Express
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