The Currents of Space (28 page)

“If we all know it,” said Fife, “I would suggest that you are contributing nothing but a waste of time.”

“But this is
all
we know. Whether stars use one or the other, or both, nuclear processes has never been determined. There have always been schools of thought in favor of each of the alternatives. Usually the weight of opinion has been in favor of the direct hydrogen-helium conversion as being the simpler of the two.

“Now Rik’s theory must be this. The hydrogen-helium direct conversion is the
normal
source of stellar energy, but under certain conditions the carbon catalysis adds its weight, hastening the process, speeding it up, heating up the star.

“There are currents in space. You all know that well. Some of these are carbon currents. Stars passing through the currents pick up innumerable atoms. The total mass of atoms attracted, however, is incredibly microscopic in comparison to the star’s weight and does not affect it in any way.
Except for carbon!
A star that passes through a current containing unusual concentrations of carbon becomes unstable. I don’t know how many years or centuries or millions of years it takes for the carbon atoms to diffuse into the star’s interior, but it probably takes a long time. That means that a carbon current must be wide and a star must intersect it at a small angle. In any case, once the quantity of carbon percolating into the star’s interior passes a certain critical amount, the star’s radiation is suddenly boosted tremendously. The outer layers give way under an unimaginable explosion and you have a nova.

“Do you see?”

Junz waited.

Fife said, “Have you figured all this out in two minutes as a result of some vague phrase the Townman remembered the Spatio-analyst to have said a year ago?”

“Yes. Yes. There’s nothing surprising in that. Spatio-analysis
is ready for that theory. If Rik had not come up with it, someone else would have shortly. In fact, similar theories have been advanced before, but they were never taken seriously. They were put forward before the techniques of Spatio-analysis were developed and no one was ever able to account for the sudden acquisition of excess carbon by the star in question.

“But now we know there
are
carbon currents. We can plot their courses, find out what stars intersected those courses in the past ten thousand years, check that against our records for nova formation and radiation variations. That’s what Rik must have done. Those must have been the calculations and observations he tried to show the Townman. But that’s all beside the immediate point.

“What must be arranged for now is the immediate beginning of an evacuation of Florina.”

“I thought it would come to that,” said Fife composedly.

“I’m sorry, Junz,” said Abel, “but that’s quite impossible.”

“Why impossible?”

“
When
will Florina’s sun explode?”

“I don’t know. From Rik’s anxiety a year ago, I’d say we had little time.”

“But you can’t set a date?”

“Of course not.”

“When will you be able to set a date?”

“There’s no way of telling. Even if we get Rik’s calculations, it would all have to be rechecked.”

“Can you guarantee that the Spatio-analyst’s theory will prove to be correct?”

Junz frowned. “I am personally certain of it, but no scientist can guarantee any theory in advance.”

“Then it turns out that you want Florina evacuated on mere speculation.”

“I think the chance of killing the population of a planet is not one that can be taken.”

“If Florina were an ordinary planet I would agree with you. But Florina bears the Galactic supply of kyrt. It can’t be done.”

Junz said angrily, “Is that the agreement you came to with Fife while I was gone?”

Fife intervened. He said, “Let me explain, Dr. Junz. The government of Sark would never consent to evacuate Florina, even if the I.S.B. claimed it had proof of this nova theory of yours. Trantor cannot force us because while the Galaxy might support a war against Sark for the purpose of maintaining the kyrt trade, it will never support one for the purpose of ending it.”

“Exactly,” said Abel. “I am afraid our own people would not support us in such a war.”

Junz found revulsion growing strong within him. A planet full of people meant nothing against the dictates of economic necessity!

He said, “Listen to me. This is not a matter of one planet, but of a whole Galaxy. There are now twenty full novae originating within the Galaxy every year. In addition, some two thousand stars among the Galaxy’s hundred billion shift their radiation characteristics sufficiently to render uninhabitable any habitable planet they may have. Human beings occupy one million stellar systems in the Galaxy. That means that on an average of once every fifty years some inhabited planet somewhere becomes too hot for life. Such cases are a matter of historical record. Every five thousand years some inhabited planet has a fifty-fifty chance of being puffed to gas by a nova.

“If Trantor does nothing about Florina, if it allows it to vaporize with its people on it, that will serve notice to all the people of the Galaxy that when their own turn comes they may expect no help, if such help is in the way of the economic convenience of a few powerful men. Can you risk that, Abel?

“On the other hand, help Florina and you will have shown that Trantor puts its responsibility to the people of the Galaxy above the maintenance of mere property rights. Trantor will win good will that it could never win by force.”

Abel bowed his head. Then he shook it wearily. “No, Junz. What you say appeals to me, but it is not practical. I can’t count on emotions as against the assured political effect of any attempt
to end the kyrt trade. In fact, I think it might be wise to avoid investigating the theory. The thought that it might be true would do too much harm.”

“But what if it
is
true?”

“We must work on the assumption that it is not. I take it that when you were gone a few moments ago it was to contact the I.S.B.”

“Yes.”

“No matter. Trantor, I think, will have enough influence to stop their investigations.”

“I’m afraid not. Not these investigations. Gentlemen, we will soon have the secret of cheap kyrt. There will be no kyrt monopoly within a year, whether or not there is a nova.”

“What do you mean?”

“The conference is reaching the essential point now, Fife. Kyrt grows only on Florina of all inhabited planets. Its seeds produce ordinary cellulose elsewhere. Florina is probably the only inhabited planet, on a chance basis, that is currently pre-nova, and it has probably been pre-nova since it first entered the carbon current, perhaps thousands of years ago, if the angle of intersection was small. It seems quite probable, then, that kyrt and the pre-nova stage go together.”

“Nonsense,” said Fife.

“Is it? There must be a reason why kyrt is kyrt on Florina and cotton elsewhere. Scientists have tried many ways of artificially producing kyrt elsewhere, but they tried blindly, so they’ve always failed. Now they will know it is due to factors induced in a pre-nova stellar system.”

Fife said scornfully, “They’ve tried duplicating the radiation qualities of Fife’s sun.”

“With appropriate arc lights, yes, that duplicated the visible and ultraviolet spectrum only. What about radiation in the infrared and beyond? What about magnetic fields? What about electron emission? What about cosmic-ray effects? I’m not a physical biochemist so there may be factors I know nothing
about. But people who are physical biochemists will be looking now, a whole Galaxy of them. Within the year, I assure you, the solution will be found.

“Economics is on the side of humanity now. The Galaxy wants cheap kyrt, and if they find it or even if they imagine they will shortly find it, they will want Florina evacuated, not only out of humanity, but out of a desire to turn the tables, at long last, on the kyrt-gouging Sarkites.”

“Bluff!” growled Fife.

“Do you think so, Abel?” demanded Junz. “If you help the Squires, Trantor will be looked on not as the saviors of the kyrt trade but of the kyrt monopoly. Can you chance that?”

“Can Trantor chance a war?” demanded Fife.

“War? Nonsense! Squire, in one year your holdings on Florina will be worthless, nova or not. Sell out. Sell out all Florina. Trantor can pay for it.”

“Buy a planet?” said Abel in dismay.

“Why not? Trantor has the funds, and its gain in good will among the people of the universe will pay it back a thousandfold. If telling them that you are saving hundreds of millions of lives is not enough, tell them that you will bring them cheap kyrt. That will do it.”

“I’ll think about it,” said Abel.

Abel looked at the Squire. Fife’s eyes fell.

After a long pause he too said, “I’ll think about it.”

Junz laughed harshly. “Don’t think too long. The kyrt story will break quickly enough. Nothing can stop it. After that, neither one of you will have freedom of action. You can each strike a better bargain now.”

The Townman seemed beaten. “It’s really true?” he kept repeating. “Really true? No more Florina?”

“It’s true,” said Junz.

Terens spread his arms, let them fall against his side. “If you
want the papers I got from Rik, they’re filed among vital statistic files in my hometown. I picked the dead files, records a century back and more. No one would ever look there for any reason.”

“Look,” said Junz, “I’m sure we can make an agreement with the I.S.B. We’ll need a man on Florina, one who knows the Florinian people, who can tell us how to explain the facts to them, how best to organize the evacuation, how to pick the most suitable planets of refuge. Will you help us?”

“And beat the game that way, you mean? Get away with murder? Why not?” There were sudden tears in the Townman’s eyes. “But I lose anyway. I will have no world, no home. We all lose. The Florinians lose their world, the Sarkites lose their wealth, the Trantorians their chance to get that wealth. There are no winners at all.”

“Unless,” said Junz gently, “you realize that in the new Galaxy—a Galaxy safe from the threat of stellar instability, a Galaxy with kyrt available to all, and a Galaxy in which political unification will be so much closer—there will be winners after all. One quadrillion winners The people of the Galaxy,
they
are the victors.”

“Rik! Rik!” Selim Junz hurried across the port grounds toward the ship, hands outstretched. “And Lona! I’d never have recognized either of you. How are you? How are you?”

“As well as we could wish. Our letter reached you, I see,” said Rik.

“Of course. Tell me, what do you think of it all?” They were walking back together, toward Junz’s offices.

Valona said sadly, “We visited our old town this morning. The fields are so empty.” Her clothing was now that of a woman of the Empire, rather than that of a peasant of Florina.

“Yes, it must be dreary for a person who has lived here. It grows dreary even for me, but I will stay as long as I can. The radiation recordings of Florina’s sun are of tremendous theoretical interest.”

“So much evacuation in less than a year! It speaks for excellent organization.”

“We’re doing our best, Rik. Oh, I think I should be calling you by your real name.”

“Please don’t. I’ll never be used to it. I’m Rik. That’s still the only name I remember.”

Junz said, “Have you decided whether you’re going to return to Spatio-analysis?”

Rik shook his head. “I’ve decided, but the decision is, no. I’ll never remember enough. That part’s gone forever. It doesn’t bother me, though. I’ll be returning to Earth. . . . By the way, I rather hoped I’d see the Townman.”

“I think not. He decided to go off today. I think he’d rather not see you. He feels guilty, I think. You have no grudge against him?”

Rik said, “No. He meant well, and he changed my life in many ways for the better. For one thing, I met Lona.” His arm went about her shoulder.

Valona looked at him and smiled.

“Besides,” Rik went on, “he cured me of something. I’ve found out why I was a Spatio-analyst. I know why nearly a third of all Spatio-analysts are recruited from the one planet, Earth. Anyone living on a radioactive world is bound to grow up in fear and insecurity. A misstep can mean death and our planet’s own surface is the greatest enemy we have.

“That makes for a sort of anxiety bred into us, Dr. Junz, a fear of planets. We’re only happy in space; that’s the only place we can feel safe.”

“And you don’t feel that way any longer, Rik?”

“I certainly don’t. I don’t even remember feeling that way. That’s it, you see. The Townman had set his psychic probe to remove feelings of anxiety and he hadn’t bothered to set the intensity controls. He thought he had a recent, superficial trouble to deal with. Instead there was this deep, ingrained anxiety he knew nothing of. He got rid of all of it. In a sense, it was worth getting rid of it even though so much else went with it. I don’t have to stay in space now. I can go back to Earth. I can work there and Earth needs men. It always will.”

“You know,” Junz said, “why can’t we do for Earth what we’re doing for Florina? There’s no need to bring up Earthmen in such fear and insecurity. The Galaxy is big.”

“No,” said Rik vehemently. “It’s a different case. Earth has its past, Dr. Junz. Many people may not believe it, but we of Earth know that Earth was the original planet of the human race.”

“Well, perhaps. I can’t say, one way or the other.”

“It
was.
It’s a planet that can’t be abandoned; it
mustn’t
be abandoned. Someday we’ll change it, change its surface back to what it once must have been. Till then—we’re staying.”

Valona said softly, “And I’m an Earthwoman now.”

Rik was looking out at the horizon. Upper City was as garish as ever, but the people were gone.

He said, “How many are left on Florina?”

“About twenty million,” said Junz. “We work slower as we go along. We have to keep our withdrawals balanced. The people that are left must always maintain themselves as an economic unit in the months that are left. Of course, resettlement is in its earliest stages. Most of the evacuees are still in temporary camps on neighboring worlds. There is unavoidable hardship.”