“An interesting, perhaps even plausible, defense,” Spivey acknowledged. “But now you know it wasn’t we nasty government brutes who manufactured the…” He paused.
“The Beta singularity,” Alex Lustig prompted, his first comment of the afternoon.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Alex nodded enigmatically.
“Yes, well. A few days ago you folks seem to have decided the monster was sent this way instead by angry aliens.” He shrugged. “I’m not yet convinced by that colorful scenario. But be that as it may, once you believed that, and knew we weren’t Beta’s makers, wasn’t it your duty then to tell us? After all, aren’t we supposed to be the experts at dealing with external aggressors? We’re the ones with the resources and organizational skills to take your shoestring operation and—”
“We were arguing about just that when you and your men burst in,” George said abruptly. “In hindsight, maybe I was wrong to hold out for continued secrecy.”
“Because now it will remain secret.” Spivey nodded. “You’re right in your implication, Mr. Hutton. The alliances I represent see great danger in this situation — danger going far beyond the immediate matter of getting rid of Beta. The last century’s proven how dangerous new technologies can be when they’re misused. But once it’s widely known that something’s possible, there’s never a second chance to stuff the genie back into its bottle. Do you doubt it’ll be different when people hear about gravity lasers*”
He looked around the room. “Be honest now, would any of you like to see Imperial Han or the East Asia Coprosperity Sphere, learn how to make these knot singularity things? Or Sea State, for heavens’ sake?”
“There are science tribunals,” June Morgan suggested. “And on-site inspection teams…”
“Yes.” Spivey nodded. “A combination that’ll work fine, so long as manufacturing such things requires large industrial facilities. But hadn’t we better make sure of that, first? That these things can be controlled by the peacekeeping agencies? After all, Dr. Lustig’s already shown you can use very small cavitrons to make impressive singularities.”
“Not that impressive,” Alex cut in, showing his first sign of irritation as he gestured toward a whirling representation of Beta.
“No?” Spivey turned to face him. “With all due respect for your admitted brilliance, Professor, you’re also notorious for truly major screwups. Can you be so sure you’re right about that? Can you absolutely guarantee that Joe Private Citizen won’t be able to make planet killers someday, in his basement, any time he’s angry at the world?”
Alex frowned, keeping his mouth shut. Suddenly Teresa thought of her conversations with Stan Goldman, about the mystery of a universe apparently all but empty of intelligent life. Putting aside Lustig’s theory about alien berserkers, there was yet another chilling possibility.
Maybe it is trivial to make world-wrecking black holes. Maybe it’s inevitable, and the reason we’ve never seen extraterrestrial civilizations is simple… because every one reaches this stage, creates unstoppable singularities, and gets sucked down the throat of its own, self-made demon.
But no. She knew from the look in Alex Lustig’s eyes. He’s not wrong about this. Beta’s beyond our ability to duplicate, now and for a long time to come. Bizarre as it sounds, the thing was sent here.
“Hmph.” George Hutton grunted. The Maori geophysicist clearly saw little point in arguing over things already beyond his control. “Mind if I consult my database, Colonel?”
Spivey waved nonchalantly. “By all means.”
George picked up a hush-mike and spoke into it, watching streams of data flow across his desk screen. After a minute he looked up. “You have our stations in Greenland and New Guinea. But the other sites—” He paused.
Spivey looked to his left. “Tell them please, Logan.”
The civilian consultant shrugged. He spoke with a soft but startlingly incongruous Cajun accent. “My computer model of recent Earth, um… tremors, indicates the third site has to be on Easter Island. The last one’s inside a fifty-kilometer circle in the northern part of the Federation of Southern Africa.”
George shrugged. “Just checking. Anyway, I see here all is normal at those two. No troops. No cops. You haven’t got them, Colonel.”
“Nor are we likely to.” Spivey folded his arms, looking quite relaxed. “None of the alliances I represent have any jurisdiction in those territories.
“Oh, we could sabotage your sites I suppose. But if you people are right — if you’re not all deluded or crazy — then Earth needs those resonators. So I imagine zapping them would be a little self-defeating, wouldn’t it?”
That actually won a weak chuckle from a few of those gathered at the table. He continued with an ingratiating smile. “Anyway, our objective isn’t to slam you all into jail. Indeed, formal gravamens have been prepared against only one person in this room, and even in that case we might find some room to maneuver.”
Teresa felt all eyes turn briefly toward her. Everyone knew who Spivey meant. The list of likely counts against her was depressing to contemplate — misappropriation of government property, perjurious nondisclosure, dereliction of duty… treason. She looked down at her hands.
“No,” Colonel Spivey continued with a smile. “We’re not here to be your enemies, but to negotiate with you. To see if we can agree on a common program. And first on the agenda, by all means, is how to continue the work you’ve begun, putting every resource into saving the world.”
Everything the man said seemed so-o-o reasonable. Teresa found it infuriating, frustrating… all the way down to realizing her own role in Spivey’s game. While others dove right into the subsequent freewheeling discussion, she just sat there, resigned to a pawn’s mute, helpless role.
Clearly, with the New Zealand authorities committed to their alliance, extradition proceedings would be straightforward. Spivey could lock her up and throw away the key. Worse, she’d never fly again. No leak to the Net, no public outcry, not even legal gambits by the best live or software lawyers would ever get her back into space again.
The others were in jeopardy too, even though their cases weren’t quite as clear-cut. Teresa watched George Hut-ton’s mental wheels spin. With canny shrewdness, the Kiwi entrepreneur poked away at Spivey’s cage, testing its walls.
Prosecutions would mean disclosure, wouldn’t they? No one knew how deeply Spivey’s aversion to publicity really went. Did he seek to keep the secret for months? Years even? Or just long enough to give his side a head start?
The Tangoparu cabal had cards to play, as well. Such as their expertise, which no one else could duplicate in time. George emphasized the point, though it was a weak bluff and everyone knew it. Could they go on strike, refusing to use those skills, when the entire world was at stake?
Spivey countered by taking a lofty tone, making a strong case for teamwork. He dropped hints the criminal cases might be dropped. And within hours of an agreement, the times of short supplies and sleepless nights would end. Fresh manpower would arrive, fresh teams of experts to work round the clock, relieving the tired technicians, helping them guide Beta’s orbit slowly outward while making sure the worst tectonic shocks missed populated areas.
Teresa realized Hutton and Lustig were trapped. The benefits were too great, the alternatives too hard. All that remained were the details.
Of course, no one was asking her what she thought. But in fairness, she probably looked as if she couldn’t care less right now.