The Depths of Time (59 page)

Raenau limited himself to the briefest possible answer.
“
Yes, ma
’
am,
”
he replied.

“
Any sign of fraud or tampering? Any indication that this might be a huge trick being played on us?
”

“
No, ma
’
am. And believe me, we
’
ve looked.
”

“
And what they
’
ve described is physically possible? The ship could do what they said it could do?
”

Raenau hesitated just a fraction of a second.
“
Ye—es. The only questionable or implausible part is the failure of the ship. The chances against that sort of systems failure are so long as to be nearly incalculable. The chances against a ship
’
s arriving at its destination, however late, after any major systems failure, are nearly as great. The chances of both failure and safe arrival are
beyond
astronomical. Unless, of course, we don
’
t assume it was chance. And, obviously, the substitution of scrap material for the final report in the admiral
’
s secured container couldn
’
t be chance.
”

“
Our ship was sabotaged,
”
Koffield said.
“
There
’
s no point in being coy about it. The information I was bringing to you was deliberately stolen. That much, at least, is obvious.
”
Koffield. Neshobe considered the man thoughtfully for a moment before she answered him. He had not spoken
much, and reports from Raenau and other sources on
SCO Station painted a picture of a rigidly controlled man
who had snapped, quite understandably, under tremen
dous pressure. He was, in short, a man struggling to put
himself back together. The signs were there if one looked
carefully. The way his hands tensed, the way the muscles
in his jaw flexed, the hunted look in his eyes. He was a man trying to appear calm and in control, rather than a man who actually was those things.

“
I agree with you, Admiral,
”
Neshobe said.
“
That is
the obvious and inescapable conclusion. Who did it, and
why, are vital questions—but they are not questions we are concerned with at the moment.
”

“
Point taken, Madam Executive,
”
Koffield said.

Neshobe nodded at Koffield and turned her attention to the historian.
“
Dr. Ashdin. You
’
re intimately familiar
with the historical record of the times and places and people in question. Is there anything in the record that would
tell us that these people are not who they say they are, or
anything that would serve to contradict or disprove the story they told?
”

“
There
’
s a great deal of information to get through,
and of course I
’
d like to interview both Admiral Koffield and Second Officer Chandray at great length. In particu
lar, I
’
d like to learn about how the admiral and Dr. DeSilvo—
”

“
None of that,
”
Neshobe said sharply. Let Ashdin get
started again, and they
’
d all still be here when the planet
died.
“
Not now, anyway. Later perhaps, if Admiral Koffield and Officer Chandray are willing to cooperate.
Just answer the question. Do you have any reason to think these people are not who they claim to be?
”

“
Ah, no, Madam Executive.
”

“
Do you in fact believe they are who they say they are?
”
Neshobe was quite deliberately presenting her questions in a
form that made them almost a ritual incantation, a call-and-
response of the age-old pattern. Neshobe wanted Ashdin,
and all the others, to hear that formal tone, and understand the seriousness of the situation.
“
Answer carefully. Are they who they say they are?
”

Ashdin swallowed nervously.
“
Yes, Madam Executive. They are. All evidence points that way, and nothing refutes it.
”

“
Very well.
”
It was time to move forward, but Neshobe realized that she had to give herself a moment. They were at a. key branch point, a decision cusp.
If
Koffield was Koffield, and
if
the checkable parts of what he had to say about the past and present were true, and
if
his science and math were reliable, and
if
it all matched the climatic disaster she could see just by looking out of the Diamond Room
’
s oversize windows, then—

Then it would be Glister all over again. She picked up her scriber and doodled a meaningless pattern of squares and inscribed circles on her datapage, then cleared the screen. She let out her breath, not realizing that she had been holding it in, and set down her scriber.

She looked up at the circle of expectant faces and nodded to no one in particular.
“
Very well,
”
she said again. She looked toward Koffield and Chandray and smiled mean-inglessly at them.
“
I
’
m convinced. You are who you say you are, and you
’
re telling the truth. I have no doubt that the simple act of looking into everything you
’
ve told us will give us a great deal more opportunity to check your story, and we
’
ll check it directly every way we can. On a matter this grave, this serious, that goes without saying. But I believe you, and I have no doubt that all our subsequent checks will confirm your information.
”

Neshobe paused once again and drummed her fingers on the table. Plainly she had to ask Koffield the next question, but she could not bring herself to do it. She needed to hear the truth, but she was unwilling to hear it from the oracle himself. It would be easier, at least a trifle easier, to hear it from the messenger, from the local man. She turned to Milos Vandar.

“
Dr. Vandar,
”
she said,
“
you have studied Admiral Koffield
’
s material, and you are as familiar as anyone with
the current health of the planetary climate. Not so long
ago you seemed to believe there was at least hope we could
repair the ecosystem, rebuild it, and move forward. But now you have seen the admiral
’
s work. Has it changed
your mind that completely? To the point where you are certain there is no chance whatsoever for the planet to re
cover?
”

Vandar smiled wearily.
“
It used to be—last week,
yesterday—that the scientists in the fields of ecologic man
agement and climate research and biodesign and biomech
and so on told each to avoid the word
certainty,”
he said.
“
We tell ourselves—told ourselves—that all things—or at
least many things—are possible, however unlikely. And, in
a sense, that
’
s still true. An ecosystem is a dynamic process. It ebbs and flows, weakens itself and renews itself
over and over again. A fully robust ecosystem, such as Earth
’
s, can recover, rebuild itself. Earth
’
s ecosystem has
the capacity to absorb change, survive it, rebound from it,
and has done so many times. It is at least
imaginable
that
Solace might do the same. But there is a big difference between something being scientifically possible on the one hand, and remotely probable in the real world on the
other. Having seen the admiral
’
s work, I
’
d have to say that
the probability of climatic recovery is near zero, no matter
how hard we try. I
’
d put the odds at about the same as this
room being struck by lightning in the next ten minutes.
If
we restrict ourselves to reasonable, realistic possibilities,
then
we must accept that the planetary ecosystem of Solace no longer has the capacity for short-term renewal— if it ever did.
”

Jorl Parrige spoke up.
“
I gather, Admiral, that you
’
re
not simply talking about short-term renewal, are you?
”
he
asked. Neshobe could not help but note that Parrige had no fear of facing the oracle directly.

Koffield shook his head.
“
No, I
’
m afraid not, Senyor
Parrige. But if my model is reasonably accurate, and if the
data is reasonably good, then what they tell us is that there
no longer is a
‘
long term
’
to worry about.
”
He lifted his hands off the table, and gestured with them, palms up,
empty-handed, helpless.
“
I
’
m sorry,
”
he said, looking at
Parrige, then to Neshobe, then to the rest of the table.
“
It
is a painful fact, but a fact nonetheless. You must regard
the terraforming of Solace to be a failure. The planet is going to die.
”

Captain Felipe Henrique Marquez sat in the captain
’
s chair of the
Dom Pedro IVs
command center and glared menacingly at the message screen, as if scowling at the words presented there could scare them into revealing more information.

Friendly contact made with local officials. Departing for groundside meeting with Planetary Executive, scheduled for 0900 hours tomorrow, Solace City time.

Intended contents of secured container appear to have been deliberately removed prior to
DP-IV’s
departure from Solar System, motive and perpetrator unknown.

Local situation difficult but peaceful, local officials cooperative. Estimate of danger to
DP-IV
in event that ship reveals itself: minimal. Estimate of general situation: short-term stable, estimate approx level four to five on Drachma pol-mil-econ stability scale. No immediate political, military crisis pending. Long-term prospects poor.

Koffield badly shaken by learning of item (2) when container opened. His mental state could be of vital importance in discussions with PlanEx.

Re: agenda: safety of ship and cargo. Estimate: low/acceptable risk of approaching inner system.

Re: agenda: legal status of ship under current Solace law. Library search and legal services Artlnt referral confirm ownership and property rights undisturbed by
DP-IVs
mishap.

Re: agenda: market for goods. Unable to perform useful research thus far. Many items in manifest may have antique value. Your large-scale hardware likely to be quite valuable. Koffield speculates there may be need for rapid spaceside habitat construction.

All systems nominal aboard Lighter
Cruzeiro do
Sul.
Lighter docked and secured inside SCO Station, with
result onboard comm systems are blocked by station itself. This message transmitted as omnidirectional radio blip patched through SCO Station Services. Estimate local
crypto capability highly advanced. Must therefore assume
this transmission monitored. Secure comm impossible at
this time.

Events moving fast. Will report as developments
merit and opportunity allows.

Chandray

Damn the woman! A very nice, professional signal, sent in
the standard top-down prioritized format, and yet she had
still managed to fill the message with absurd melodrama and cryptic details that produced more questions than an
swers. What, precisely, were they talking about with the PlanEx? And how was it that Koffield
’
s state of mind was
so important? Marquez did not wish the man ill, but
surely there were more important things in the world than
what mood Koffield was in.

Or had Chandray learned something from Koffield,
something Koffield had not seen fit to reveal to Marquez? Something that magnified Koffield
’
s importance?

And how in God
’
s name had they managed to get a meeting with the Planetary Executive so fast? Marquez checked
the timestamp on the message. It had come in hours ago,
while he was asleep. By now, if he had worked out the time zones properly, she and Koffield were already in their meet
ing with the PlanEx.

What were they doing there? Marquez felt frustrated, cut off—and it did his mood no good to remind himself that he had been the one who decided to have the
Dom
Pedro IV
lie low and hide on the outskirts of the Solacian
system.