TEMBLORS, LEVEL 3 THROUGH 5.2, HAVE HIT SPAIN, MOROCCO, BALAERICS. CASUALTIES LOW. SWARM FOLLOWED UNUSUAL PATTERN IN SPACE, TIME, AND PHASE DOMAINS. INITIAL ONSET—
“Hm, what does this have to do with…?” Then Alex noticed — the Spanish quakes had struck at exactly the same time as the jolts here in New Zealand! Turning to the whole-Earth cutaway, he made some comparisons, and whistled. As nearly as the eyeball had it, the two swarms had taken place one hundred and eighty degrees apart — on exactly opposite sides of the globe.
In other words, a straight line, connecting New Zealand and Spain, passed almost exactly through the planet’s core.
He watched the new singularity, the one called Beta, follow a low, lazy trajectory, never climbing far from the inmost zone where density and pressure were highest, where its nourishment was richest.
It does more than grow, Alex realized, amazed the universe could awe him yet again. It does one hell of a lot more than grow.
“Stan—” he began.
“You’ve noticed too? Puzzling, isn’t it?”
“Mm. Let’s find out what it means.”
So they were immersed in arcane mathematics, barely even aware of the world outside, when someone turned a dial to amplify the breathless voices of news reporters, describing a disaster in space.
PART II
PLANET
A modest fire burns longer. So it is, also, with stars.
The brightest rush through lives of spendthrift extravagance to finally explode in terminal fits of self-expression, briefly outshining whole galaxies. Meanwhile, humbler, quieter suns patiently tend their business, aging slowly, gracefully.
Ironically, it takes both types to make a proper potion. For without the grand immoderation of supernovas there would be no ingredients — no oxygen, carbon, silicon, or iron. And yet the steady yellow suns are also needed — to bake the concoction slowly, gently, or the recipe will spoil.
Take a solar mix of elements. Condense small lumps and accrete them to a midsized globe. Set it just the right distance from the flame and rotate gently. The crust should bubble and then simmer for the first few million years.
Rinse out excess hydrogen under a wash of sunlight.
Pound with comets for one eon, or until a film of liquid forms.
Keep rotating under an even heat for several billion years.
Then wait…
□ For consideration by the 112 million members of the Worldwide Long Range Solutions Special Interest Discussion Group [ D SIG AeR.WLRS 253787890.546], we the steering committee commend this little gem one of our members [□ Jane P. Gloumer QrT JN 233-54-2203 aa] found in a late TwenCen novel. She calls it the “Offut-Lyon Plan.” Here’s Ms. Gloumer to describe the notion:
“Our problem isn’t too many people, per se. It’s that we have too many right now. We’re using up resources at a furious rate, just when the last of Earth’s surplus might be used to create true, permanent wellsprings of prosperity. Projects such as reforestation, or orbital solar power, or [□ list of other suggestions hyper-appendixed, with appropriate references] aren’t making any progress because our slender margin must be spent just feeding and housing so many people.
“Oh, surely, the rate of population growth has slackened. In a century, total numbers may actually taper off. But too late to save us, I’m afraid.
“Now some insensitive members of this very SIG have suggested this could be solved by letting half the people die. A grim Malthusian solution, and damn stupid in my opinion. Those five billions wouldn’t just go quietly for the common good! They’d go down kicking, taking everybody else with them!
“Anyway, do billions really need to die, in order to save the world? What if those billions could be persuaded to leave temporarily?
“Recent work at the University of Beijing shows we’re only a decade away from perfecting cryosuspension… the safe freezing of human beings, like those with terminal diseases, for reliable resuscitation at a later time. Now at first that sounds like just another techno-calamity — plugging another of the drain holes and letting the tub fill still higher with people. But that’s just small thinking. There’s a way this breakthrough could actually prove to be our salvation.
“Here’s the deal. Let anyone who wants to sign up be suspended until the twenty-fourth century. The U.N. guarantees their savings will accumulate at 1 % above inflation or the best government bond rate, whichever is higher. Volunteers are assured wealth when they come out the other end.
“In return, they agree to get out of the way, giving the rest of us the elbow room we need. With only half the population to feed, we problem solvers could roll up our sleeves and use the remaining surplus to fix things up.
“Of course, there are a few bugs to work out, such as the logistics of safely freezing five billion people, but that’s what SIG discussion groups like this one are for — coming up with ideas and solving problems!”
Indeed. Jane’s provocative suggestion left us breathless. We expect more than a million responses to this one, so please, try to be original, or wait until the second wave to see if your point has already been stated by someone else. For conciseness, the first round will be limited to simple eight-gig voice-text, with just one subreference layer. No animation or holography, please. Now let’s start with our senior members in China…
• LITHOSPHERE
It was truly “mad dogs and Englishmen” weather. Claire wore her goggles, of course, and was slathered with skin cream. Nevertheless, Logan Eng wondered if he really oughtn’t get his daughter out of this blistering sun-shine.
Not that, to all appearances, anything could possibly harm that creature up ahead, with the form of a girl but moving along the striated rock face like a mountain goat. It never occurred to Logan that Claire might fall, for instance, here on a mere class-four slope. His red-headed offspring strode ahead as if she were crossing a lawn, rather than a forty-degree grade, and disappeared around the next bend in the canyon wall with a final flash of bronzed legs.
Logan puffed, reluctantly admitting to himself why he’d been about to call her back. I can’t keep up with her anymore. It was inevitable, I guess.
Realizing this, he smiled. Envy is an unworthy emotion to feel toward your own child.
Anyway, right now he was occupied with greater spans of time than a mere generation. Logan teetered on the edge of the period called “Carboniferous.” Like some ambitious phylum, aspiring to evolve, he sought a path to rise just a few more meters, into the Permian.
That landmark, which had seemed so stark from far away — a distinct border between two horizontal stripes of pale stone — became deceptive and indistinct up this close. Reality was like that. Never textbook crisp, but gritty, rough-edged. It took physical contact, breathing chalky sediments or tracing with your fingertips the outline of some paleozoic brachiopod, to truly feel the eons imbedded in a place like this.
Logan knew by touch the nature of this rock. He could estimate its strength and permeability to seeping water — a skill learned over years perfecting his craft. Also, as an amateur, he had studied its origins in prehistoric days.