Uses Antique Rifle
Sheriff’s Son Charged; Described as Loner
RUSSIANS, CANADIAN-AMERICANS
BECOME MAJOR AGRI-POWERS
Corn and Wheat Belts Moving North
MOONRIDERS ARE NOT ALIENS: TALVANOWSKI
“Probably Quantum Jets”
MACALLISTER WILL PAY FOR
DEFENSE IN HELLFIRE TRIAL
National Editor Stirs Pot
chapter 14
There are few professions whose primary objective is to advance the cause of humanity rather than simply to make money or accrue power. Among this limited group of humanitarians I would number teachers, nurses, bookstore owners, and bartenders.
— Gregory MacAllister, “Icons”
The Virginia Education Association met annually in Richmond during the third week in February to name the recipients of its Teachers of the Year awards. These were granted to a plethora of elementary and high school instructors. Various civic groups joined in. The Thomas Jefferson Freedom Guild granted special recognition to the winner of the political science award. The Jump Start Reading League provided plaques to several of the elementary teachers. The Academy gave its Distinguished Contribution to Science Education Award to the VEA’s science teacher of the year.
The National also presented a trophy for auspicious public service, known among the correspondents as the Courage Under Fire Award. The recipient would be a science teacher from a West Virginia high school who had defied demands by his school board and a small posse of parents that human enhancement be targeted as not proven, not safe, and socially unacceptable.
Usually, MacAllister assigned the presentation to one of his reporters. But this year, he had decided to do the honors personally. The reason was that he wanted to take advantage of the occasion to have a few words with its guest of honor, the prize-winning physicist, Ellen Backus.
He enjoyed the social advantages that came with celebrity. He drifted through the hotel meeting room, shaking hands with visiting dignitaries, pretending to the precise level of humility that he associated with greatness.
Shortly before seven thirty, the guests began filing into the banquet room. MacAllister found his place at the head table, shook hands with the emcee, introduced himself to Backus, and sat down. Moments later salads and rolls arrived.
He was still in the process of telling Backus that he was impressed with her work when his commlink vibrated. He excused himself and wandered to the side of the room. It was Wolfie.
“Yes,” he said.
“Mac, I was talking with an Academy source.”
“Okay.”
“They’re putting together a moonrider mission. Going out looking for the things.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes. And apparently it’s not just a stunt.”
“How do you mean?”
“How else can I say it? They are serious.”
“Explain that to me.”
“I don’t know if I can. I get the impression there’ve been more sightings than anyone’s been admitting. Apparently, they’ve been seeing them all over the place.”
“You trust your source?”
“He’s always been on the money before, and he has no reason to lie to me.”
AFTER THE CEREMONY MacAllister took Backus aside. “I’ve a question for you, Professor.”
She looked barely out of high school. Smooth face, honey-blond hair, soft hazel eyes. “Of course, Mr. MacAllister. Fire away.”
“Do you have any connection with the Origins Project?”
“You mean, have I ever been out there?”
“No. I mean, are you aware of the details?”
“It’s not my specialty, Mr. MacAllister — ”
“Call me Mac.”
“Mac. But I know a little about it.”
“Are there hazards?”
“How do you mean?”
“Are the experiments dangerous in any way?”
The eyes locked on him. “I don’t think there are any undue hazards. You start crashing atoms together at the kind of velocities they’re using, and there’s always going to be a degree of risk. That’s why they built it out where they have.”
Mac tried her first name. “Ellen — ”
She smiled. “You’re talking about where the universe goes down a black hole.”
“Something like that. I had a call from Anthony DiLorenzo. Do you know him?”
“Not personally. I know of his work.”
“Would you mind giving me your opinion of him? It’ll go no further.”
“As I say, Mac, I don’t know him. He has an outstanding reputation.”
“He says there’s a chance that when they turn on the hypercollider it will” — he consulted his notes — “rip the fabric of space. End everything.”
She nodded. Looked as if someone had just belched in the middle of dinner. “Yeah. I’ve heard that. I don’t think the possibility is very likely.”
“Then it is possible.”
“Oh, sure. You get into an area like this, where we still don’t know very much, and anything is possible. But I don’t think it’s worth worrying about.”
“You’re telling me the Origins Project could conceivably destroy the universe, but it’s not worth worrying about?”
She looked amused. “Mac, I had no idea you were given to panic.”
“How would you state the odds?”
“Astronomical.”
“For or against?” She laughed, but she was beginning to look around. It would be just moments before she realized she had to be somewhere else. “Doesn’t it seem to you,” MacAllister continued, “that if there’s a potential for a catastrophe on that scale, we should stay clear of the experiment, no matter what?”
“Mac.” She looked up at him. “Don’t lose any sleep over it.”
HE CALLED HUTCH, but her AI told him she was in conference. She got back to him an hour or so later. He was home by then, working on a review of a new book by Zacarias Toomas. Toomas had done a series of brilliant introspective novels, analyzing the assorted misconceptions and hypocrisies of suburban life in modern America, but this latest one, Parlor Games, was a disaster. Despite his reputation, MacAllister took no pleasure in assaulting good people. He didn’t mind taking out after the assorted blockheads who consistently got themselves into the public eye. But somebody like Toomas…He was a MacAllister discovery. And a friend.
Ah well.
Then Hutch was sitting in front of him. “What can I do for you, Mac?”
She was cool and businesslike. He tried to soften the moment, commenting that he’d watched Asquith testify.
“We’ll survive it,” she said. “Eventually we survive everything.” He read the implication: Even our friends.
He refused to get annoyed. “I understand you have an April mission going out.”
“We have a couple missions in April. Which one were you referring to?”
“The moonrider flight.”
“Ah. Yes. I’m surprised you heard about that. We haven’t released the information yet.”
“Then it’s true?”
“Oh, it’s no big deal. We’re just going to take a look around.”
“When’s it leaving?”
“I’m not supposed to say anything.”
“Hutch.” His fatherly voice. “Between us. It’ll go no further.” When she hesitated: “I have a reason for asking.”
“I’m sure you do. We’ll be launching at the beginning of the month.”
“Why hasn’t there been an announcement?”
She hesitated. Lowered her voice. “I know how the moonriders play, Mac. I didn’t want people laughing at us.”
“You think they’re really spaceships?”
“No.” She tried to laugh it away.
“Then why are you running the mission at all?”