The Venging (3 page)

code, classified section fourteen."

The president nodded. "She came to the right man when she asked for you, then. I wonder where she got her information. None of this can be broadcastwhy was it done?" "There were a number of reasons, among them financial" "The project was mostly financed by lunar agencies. Earth had perhaps a five percent share, so no

controlling interestand there was no connection with radical Geshel groups, therefore no need to invoke section fourteen on revolutionary deterrence. I read the codes, too, Farmer." "Yes, sir." "What were you afraid of? Some irrational desire to pin the butterflies down? Jesus God, Farmer, the Naderite beliefs don't allow anything like this. But you and your committee took it upon yourselves to covertly destroy the biggest project in the history of mankind. You think this follows in the tracks of the Good Man?" (14 of 197) "You're aware of lunar plans to build particle guidance guns. They're canceled now because Psyche is dead. They were to be used to push asteroids like Psyche into deep space, so advanced Beckmann drives could be used." "I'm not technically minded, Farmer." "Nor am I. But such particle guns could have been used as weaponsconsidering lunar sympathies, probably would have been used. They could cook whole cities on Earth. The development of potential weaponsis a matter of concern for Naderites, sir. And there are many studies showing that human behavior changes in space. It becomes less Earth-centered, less communal. Man can't live in space and remain human. We were trying to preserve humanity's right to a secure future. Even now the Moon is a potent political force, and war has been suggested by our strategists it's a dire possibility. All this because of the separation of a group of humans from the parent body, from wise government and safe creed." The president shook his head and looked away. "I am ashamed such a thing could happen in my government. Very well, Kollert, this remains your ball game until she asks to speak to someone else. But my advisors are going to go over everything you say. I doubt you'll have the chance to botch anything. We're already acting with the Moon to stop this before it gets any worse. And you can thank Godfor your life, not your career, which is already deadthat our Geshels have come up with a way out." Kollert was outwardly submissive, but inside he was fuming. Not even the President of the Hexamon had the right to treat him like a child or, worse, a criminal. He was an independent advisor, of a separate desk, elected by Naderites of high standing. The ecumentalist creed was apparently much tighter than the president's. "I acted in the best interests of my constituency," he said. "You no longer have a constituency, you no longer have a career. Nor do any of the people who planned this operation with you, or those who carried it out. Up and down the line. A purge." Turco woke up before the blinking light and moved her lips in a silent curse. How long had she been asleep? She panicked brieflya dozen hours would be crucialbut then saw the digital clock. Two hours. The light was directing her attention to an incoming radio signal. There was no video image. Kollert's voice returned, less certain, almost cowed. "I'm here," she said, switching off her camera as well. The delay was a fraction shorter than when they'd first started talking. "Have you made any decisions?" Kollert asked. "I should be asking that question. My course is fixed. When are you and your people going to admit to sabotage?" "We'dI'd almost be willing to admit, just to" He stopped. She was about to speak when he continued. (15 of 197) "We could do that, you know. Broadcast a worldwide admission of guilt. A cheap price to pay for saving all life on Earth. Do you really understand what you're up to? What satisfaction, what revenge, could you possibly get out of this? My God, Turco, you" There was a burst of static. It sounded suspiciously like the burst she had heard some time ago. "You're editing him," she said. Her voice was level and calm. "I don't want anyone editing anything between us, whoever you are. Is that understood? One more burst of static like that, and I'll" She had already threatened the ultimate. "I'll be less tractable. RememberI'm already a fanatic. Want me to be a hardened fanatic? Repeat what you were saying, Ser Kollert." The digital readout indicated one-way delay time of 1.496 seconds. She would soon be closer to the Earth than the Moon was. "I was saying," Kollert repeated, something like triumph in his tone, "that you are a very young woman, with very young ideaslike a child leveling a loaded pistol at her parents. You may not be a fanatic. But you aren't seeing things clearly. We have no evidence here on Earth that you've found anything, and we won't have evidencenothing will be solvedif the asteroid collides with us. That's obvious. But if it veers aside, goes into an Earth orbit perhaps, then an" "That's not one of my options," Turco said. "investigating team could reexamine the crew quarters," Kollert continued, not to be interrupted for a few seconds, "do a more detailed search. Your charges could be verified." "I can't go into Earth orbit without turning around, and this is a one-way rock, remember that. My only other option is to swing around the Earth, be deflected a couple of degrees, and go into a solar orbit. By the time any investigating team reached me, I'd be on the other side of the sun, and dead. I'm the daughter of a Geshel, Ser Kollertdon't forget that. I have a good technical education, and my training under Hexamon auspices makes me a competent pilot and spacefarer. Too bad there's so little long-range work for my typejust Earth-Moon runs. But don't try to fool me or kid me. I'm far more expert than you are. Though I'm sure you have Geshel people on your staff." She paused. "Geshels! I can't call you traitorsyou in the backgroundbecause you might be thinking I'm crazy, out to destroy all of you. But do you understand what these men have done to our hopes and dreams? I've never seen a finished asteroid starship, of coursePsyche was to have been the first. But I've seen good simulations. It would have been like seven Shangri-las inside, hollowed out of solid rock and metal, seven valleys separated by walls four kilometers high, each self-contained, connected with the others by tube trains. The valley floors reach up to the sky, like magic, everything wonderfully topsy-turvy. And quietso much insulation none of the engine sounds reach inside." She was crying again. "Psyche would consume herself on the way to the stars. By the time she arrived, there'd be little left besides a cylinder thirty kilometers wide, and two hundred ninety long. Like the core of an apple, and the passengers would be luxurious wormsstar travelers. Now ask why,why did these men sabotage such a marvelous thing? Because they are blind unto pure evilblind, ugly-minded, weak men who hate big (16 of 197) ideas" She paused. "I don't know what you think of all this, but remember, they took something away from you. I know. I've seen the evidence here. Sabotage and murder." She pressed the button and waited wearily for a reply. "Ser Turco," Kollert said, "you have ten hours to make an effective course correction. We estimate you have enough reaction mass left to extend your orbit and miss the Earth by about four thousand kilometers. There is nothing we can do here but try to convince you" She stopped listening, trying to figure out what was happening behind the scenes. Earth wouldn't take such a threat without exploring a large number of alternatives. Kollert's voice droned on as she tired to think of the most likely action, and the most effective. She picked up her helmet and placed a short message, paying no attention to the transmission from Earth. "I'm going outside for a few minutes." The acceleration had been steady for two hours, but now the weightlessness was just as oppressive. The large cargo handler was fully loaded with extra fuel and a bulk William Porter was reluctant to think about. With the ship turned around for course correction, he could see the Moon glowing with Earthshine, and a bright crescent so thin it was almost a hair. He had about half an hour to relax before the real work began, and he was using it to read an excerpt from a novel by Anthony Burgess. He'd been a heavy reader all his memorable life, and now he allowed himself a possible last taste of pleasure. Like most inhabitants of the Moon, Porter was a Geshel, with a physicist father and a geneticist mother. He'd chosen a career as a pilot rather than a researcher out of romantic predilections established long before he was ten years old. There was something immediately effective and satisfying about piloting, and he'd turned out to be well suited to the work. He'd never expected to take on a mission like this. But then, he'd never paid much attention to politics, either. Even if he had, the disputes between Geshels and Naderites would have been hard to spotthey'd been settled, most experts believed, fifty years before, with the Naderites emerging as a ruling class. Outside of grumbling at restrictions, few Geshels complained. Responsibility had been lifted from their shoulders. Most of the population of both Earth and Moon was now involved in technical and scientific work, yet the mistakes they made would be blamed on Naderite policiesand the disasters would likewise be absorbed by the leadership. It wasn't a hard situation to get used to. William Porter wasn't so sure, now, that it was the ideal. He had two options to save Earth, and one of them meant he would die. He'd listened to the Psyche-Earth transmissions during acceleration, trying to make sense out of Turco's position, to form an opinion of her character and sanity, but he was more confused than ever. If she was rightand not a raving lunatic, which didn't seem to fit the factsthen the Hexamon Nexus had a lot of (17 of 197) explaining to do and probably wouldn't do it under the gun. The size of Turco's gun was far too imposing to be rationalthe destruction of the human race, the wiping of a planet's surface. He played back the computer diagram of what would happen if Psyche hit the Earth. At the angle it would strike, it would speed the rotation of the Earth's crust and mantle by an appreciable fraction. The asteroid would cut a gouge from Maine to England, several thousand kilometers long and at least a hundred kilometers deep. The impact would vault hundreds of millions of tons of surface material into space, and that would partially counteract the speedup of rotation. The effect would be a monumental jerk, with the energy finally being released as heat. The continents would fracture in several directions, forming new faults, even new plate orientations, which would generate earthquakes on a scale never before seen. The impact basin would be a hell of molten crust and mantle, with water on the perimeter bursting violently into steam, altering weather patterns around the world. It would take decades to cool and achieve some sort of stability. Turco may not have been raving, but she was coldly suggesting a cataclysm to swat what amounted to a historical fly. That made her a lunatic in anyone's book, Geshel or Naderite. And his life was well worth the effort to thwart her. That didn't stop him from being angry, though. Kollert impatiently let the physician check him over and administer a few injections. He talked to his wife briefly, which left him more nervous than before, then listened to the team leader's theories on how Turco's behavior would change in the next few hours. He nodded at only one statement: "She's going to see she'll be dead, too, and that's a major shock for even the most dedicated terrorist." Then Turco was back on the air, and he was on stage again. "I've seen your ship," she said. "I went outside and looked around in the direction where I thought it would be. There it wastreachery all around. Goddamned hypocrites! Talk friendly to the little girl, but shiv her in the back! Public face cool, private face snarl! Well, just remember, before he can kill me, I can destroy all controls to the positioning engines. It would take a week to rewire them. You don't have the time!" The beep followed. "Giani, we have only one option left, and that's to do as you say. We'll admit we played a part in the sabotage of Psyche. It's confession under pressure, but we'll do it." Kollert pressed his button and waited, holding his full chin with one hand. "No way it's so simple, Kollert. No public admission and then public denial after the danger is overyou'd all come across as heroes. No. There has to be some records-keeping, payrolls if nothing else. I want full disclosure of all records, and I want them transmitted around the worldfacsimile, authenticated. I want uninvolved government officials to see them and sign that they've seen them. And I want the actual documents put on display where anyone can look at themmemos, plans, letters, (18 of 197) The Venging whatever. All of it that's still available." "That would take weeks," Kollert said, "if they existed." "Not in this age of electronic wizardry. I want you to take a lie-detector test, authenticated by half a dozen

experts with their careers on the lineand while you're at it, have the other officials take tests, too." "That's not only impractical, it won't hold up in a court of law." "I'm not interested in formal courts. I'm not a vengeful person, no matter what I may seem now. I just

want the truth. And if I still see that goddamn ship up there in an hour, I'm going to stop negotiations right now and blow myself to pieces." Kollert looked at the team leader, but the man's face was blank. "Let me talk to her, then," Porter suggested. "Direct person-to-person. Let me explain the plans. She really can't change them any, can she? She has no way of making them worse. If she fires her engines or does any positive action, she simply stops the threat. So I'm the one who holds the key to the situation."

"We're not sure that's advisable, Bill," Lunar Guidance said. "I can transmit to her without permission, you know," he said testily. "Against direct orders, that's not like you." "Like me, hell," he said, chuckling. "Listen, just get me permission. Nobody else seems to be doing

anything effective." There was a few minutes' silence, then Lunar Guidance returned.

"Okay, Bill. You have permission. But be very careful what you say. Terrorist team officers on Earth think she's close to the pit." With that obstacle cleared away, he wondered how wise the idea was in the first place. Still, they were

both Geshelsthey had something in common compared to the elite Naderites running things on Earth.

Far away, Earth concurred and transmissions were cleared. They couldn't censor his direct signal, so Baja Station was unwillingly cut from the circuit. "Who's talking to me now?" Turco asked when the link was made. "This is Lieutenant William Porter, from the Moon. I'm a pilotnot a defense pilot usually, either. I