Since their close escape from New Zealand, wincing and limping from their bruises, he and Teresa had perforce taken up different activities. For her part, she spent most of her days with the old model-one shuttle. Presumably she knew a way inside, past the vandalism alarms. Or perhaps she was just scraping off the graffiti and gull droppings that made the broken spacecraft look so pathetic by daylight.
Possibly, she was just sitting in Atlantis’s pilot seat, brooding over the slim likelihood she’d ever see space again — even given a pardon from Spivey’s masters.
Anyway, he was busy enough for both of them. Rapa Nui station was again the fulcrum for up to several dozen gazer beams a day, pulsating through the Earth’s interior in a dizzying variety of modes and leading to countless surface manifestations. Now, at least, Alex had secure consultation links with Stan Goldman in Greenland, and data streamed in from the NATO ground teams, as well, helping him refine his models with each passing day.
(He’d even had a chance to get in touch with his grand-mother, over in Africa. Good old Jen. After berating him several minutes for neglecting her, she had immediately dropped the subject and launched into a long, excited explanation of her new research, which Alex vaguely gathered had something to do with schizophrenia.)
Alex spent a good part of each day watching the singularity on the big display, where Beta could be seen spending more of its time in the “sparse” zones of the lower mantle. Already the monster was on an enforced diet, and soon they’d reach break-even — that milestone when the deadly knot began losing mass-energy as fast as it absorbed it. That would be time for real celebration… a true miracle, given their odds just a few months ago.
But then what?
Behind him, he heard the women laugh out loud, Teresa’s alto blending harmoniously with June’s contralto. It was a sound that cheered him. Finished with his business, Alex found himself suddenly shivering in the chill breeze. He zipped up and walked a little further along the slope, crunching the dry grass underfoot.
Apparently, a surprising number of Colonel Spivey’s superiors believed Alex’s theory, that Beta was a smart bomb sent by alien foes to destroy humanity. If so, then Spivey had a point. The gazer could become the pivot of Earth’s only credible defense. In fact, to hear Spivey put it, the world might someday erect statues to Alex Lustig.
Savior of the planet, forger of our shield.
The image would appeal to any man’s vanity. And Alex wasn’t sure he had the will to resist. What if it’s true? he thought, tasting the honey sweetness of Spivey’s fable.
The colonel’s plan had one more advantage. It meant they might soon reduce the number of pulses to just a nudge now and then.
He scuffed the ground. Inhaled the scented air. Shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. All right. Keeping it down there makes sense. Maybe. And yet Alex felt edgy.
Everywhere Beta passes, the minerals seem to change … at least momentarily.
It was hard to tell how, exactly, even with their wonderfully improved sensitivity. Beta was still a tiny, if ferocious object, with an actual physical zone of influence only millimeters across. The affected track of altered perovskites was consequently extremely thin. Still, with each orbit more slender tubes of transformed mineral glittered in the singularity’s wake, flickering oddly.
How can we leave the thing down there when we have no idea what the long-term effects will be?
Maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t told Hutton or Spivey about his new resonator, the one with the spherical, compact design. Better to wait and be certain what the colonel’s actual scheme was… what he was going to do when word inevitably leaked out.
For they weren’t going to be able to keep the lid on forever, that was clear to everyone. Spivey’s bosses had to be preparing for a political powwow soon.
Maybe all they want is to present the world with a fait accompli, Alex thought hopefully. “Look, see what we in the West have done? We saved the world! Now, of course, we’ll let the tribunals have the keys to the gazer. It’s far too dangerous for any one group to control.”
Alex smiled. Yes. Quite possibly that was exactly what they had in mind.
Right. Surely.
On his way back to the bungalow, Alex passed before a row of seaside moai sculptures, this strange island’s contribution to world imagery. Gloomy and almost identical, they nonetheless struck him differently each time he saw them. On this occasion, despite the wind and sparkling stars, they just looked like huge chunks of stone, pathetically chiseled by desperate folk to resemble stern gods. People did bizarre things when they were afraid… as most men and women had been for nearly all the time since the species evolved.
We didn’t make Beta though, Alex reminded himself. So we’re foolish, fearful, sometimes crazy, but maybe not damned.
Not yet, at least.
Back at the bungalow, Alex wiped his feet before entering.
“…know it’s logical, and maybe justified,” Teresa said, nodding seriously. “But after Jason… well. I can’t share again. I don’t think I could handle it.”
“But that was different—” June stopped and looked up quickly as Alex entered.
“Share what?” he asked. “What’s so different?”
Teresa looked away, but June stood up, smiling. She took him by the lapels and drew him into the room. “Nothing important. Just girl talk. Anyway, we decided to call it a night. I have a busy day tomorrow, so—”
“So I’ve got to go,” Teresa said, putting her glass aside. For some reason she wouldn’t meet Alex’s eyes now, which disturbed him. What’s going on? he wondered.
Teresa picked up the satchel June had brought along especially for her. Alex had assumed it contained tokens from Spivey, to signal all was forgiven. But Teresa acted as if it were something strictly between herself and the other woman, a peace offering of a different sort entirely. “Thanks for the stuff, June,” she said, lifting the case.
“No big deal. Just hardware store goods. What’re you going to do with all those catalysts and things?”
Teresa smiled enigmatically. “Oh, just a little tidying up, that’s all.”
“Mm,” June commented.
“Yeah. Mm. So.” Teresa shifted her feet. “Well. G’night you two.”
After a moment’s hesitation, the women kissed each other on the cheek. Teresa squeezed Alex’s shoulder, still without meeting his eyes, and went out into the night. He stood in the open doorway, watching her go.
From behind him, June’s arms slid under his and wrapped across his chest. She squeezed hard and let out a sigh. “Alex. Oh, Alex. What are we going to do with you?”
Puzzled, he turned around, letting the door close behind him. “What do you mean?”
“Oh…” She seemed about to say more, but finally shook her head. Taking his hand she said, “Come on, then. To bed. We both have busy days ahead.”
PART IX
PLANET
The Earth’s most permanent feature was the Pacific Ocean. Its shape might change with the passing eons, islands rising and falling as its plates collided, merged, and broke apart again. But the great basin remained.
Not so the Atlantic, which opened and closed many times. Slow heat built underneath a sequence of huge, granite supercontinents, splitting them asunder along bursting seams. Then, tens of millions of years later, the now cool center would sink again to halt the rivening and begin drawing the sleeves together again.