“All one structure?” said Amy.
“All one. When it’s finished, it will be considerably larger.” The line lifted off the map. Hawaii and the Pacific and the NAU shrank and were seen to be on a curved surface. Then the Earth was dropping away. The line extended off-world, well past the moon.
And finally stopped.
“I know the wire’s thin,” said MacAllister, “but that’s still a lot of the stuff. Where’s it come from?”
“We mine it. Iron asteroids in the Ophiuchi system. We do everything over there, extract it, smelt it, whatever, put it on spools, and bring the spools here.”
“It’s enormous,” said Eric. “I don’t think I ever realized how big this place is. How big it will be.”
“In fact,” said Lou, “the collider, when it’s finished, will be too short.”
MacAllister stared at the line projecting out past the moon. “You’re not serious.”
“Oh, yes. Eventually we’ll have to build another one. When we have the resources.”
“And when you know more,” said MacAllister.
“That, too.”
The image rotated and gave them a close-up of the East Tower. “Accelerator beams are generated here,” he said. “And at the other end, of course.” The sphere opened up, and they were inside, looking at a round, polished disk. Lou launched into a standard lecture. Here was how the beam was aimed, here’s what the robots did, there’s how they kept even a few stray particles from getting into the tube.
MacAllister started getting bored. “Lou,” he said, breaking in, “what’s it for? What do you expect to learn?”
Lou inhaled. Looked simultaneously proud and cornered. “The easy answer,” he said, “is that we will be collecting accurate data that can’t be had any other way. The true reason, though, the one that gets to the heart of things, is that we don’t know what we might learn. Won’t know until we see it. It’s fair to say we’re looking for ultimate answers. Why is there a universe instead of nothing? Are there other universes? You might even say we’re looking for the right questions to ask.”
“Such as?”
He fumbled that one. “Nobody else would want to be quoted saying this, but there are a lot of people here who think the same way I do about this.” He paused. “It would be nice to know whether our existence has any meaning beyond the moment.”
That was a bit too spiritual for MacAllister. The taxpayers were spending enormous sums so Lou Cassel and his crowd could look for answers to questions that, by their nature, had no answers.
Lou finished finally, and the lights came on. “If you like,” he said, “we can walk over and take a look at the generators.”
But Valya had her link clasped to her ear. When she’d finished, MacAllister moved next to her. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Bill. The probe we left at Ophiuchi — ”
“Yes?”
“Has reported moonriders.”
Origins isn’t about physics. It’s not even mostly about physics, or anthropology, or art, or history. Or, God help us, engineering. It’s about bigger issues. It’s about faith as opposed to religion. Understanding rather than belief. The project will be a place where we are invited to ask any question. The only requirement will be a willingness to accept the answer. Even though we may not like it.
We can create the appearance of knowledge, the illusion of knowing how to grapple with a problem. Far too many educational systems have done exactly that. The result is generations of mouthpieces who can pour forth approved responses to programmed stimuli that contribute nothing to rational discussion. Dogma is for those who wish only to be comfortable. Catechisms are for cowards; commandments, for control freaks who have so little respect for their species that they are driven to appeal to a higher power to keep everyone in line.
If indeed we have a Maker, I suspect He is proudest of us when we ask the hard questions. And listen for the answers.
— Filippo Montreone, commenting on the proposal to build the hypercollider, 2193
chapter 22
We’re not enamored of truth. It is too often painful, discouraging, and it tends to undermine our self-image. We prefer comfort. Reassurance. Well-being. Good cheer. Naked optimism. Nobody wants to hear the facts when they clash with a happily imagined reality. It is, after all, a terrible thing to be the only person in town who can see what’s really happening. But I’ve gotten used to it.
— Gregory MacAllister, “Gone to Glory”
“Lou,” said Valya, “can we borrow one of your projectors?”
Lou was one of these people who seemed to enjoy bestowing favors. “Sure,” he said. “Did I hear something about moonriders?”
“At Ophiuchi.”
He lit up. “Are you serious?”
“Of course. There’s apparently something there.”
“Projectors.” He thought about it. “Follow me.” He led the way into a corridor, passed a few doors, and entered another VR chamber. “A few of our people have seen them.”
“So we heard.”
“You’ve got the feed?”
“Yes.”
“Mind if I watch?”
“Not at all.” They grabbed seats while Valya tied into the system. “Go ahead, Bill,” she said. “Let’s see what we have.”
Bill adopted his professorial tone. “First images arrived three minutes ago,” he said. The room went dark, and the Ophiuchi sky appeared. A red star, a sensor image, was moving. Left to right, across the front of the chamber. It brightened as they watched.
Coming closer.
“It’s not responding to radio calls,” said Bill.
“Comet,” suggested MacAllister.
“It’s under power.”
“Is it one of ours?” asked Valya.
“Negative.”
MacAllister wasn’t buying it. “How do you know, Bill?” he asked.
“The electronic signature doesn’t match anything we have.” The object grew bigger. “Switching to the monitor’s onboard telescope.” The red glow went away, and they were looking at a black globe. “Mag two hundred,” said Bill.
The crosswise movement had stopped. But it continued to get larger. “It looks as if it’s coming right at us,” said Amy.
Valya nodded. “It’s closing on the monitor.”
“If that thing doesn’t belong to us,” demanded Lou, “what the hell is it?”
Question of the hour.
There had to be a rational explanation. “Can we try talking to it through the monitor?” MacAllister asked.
“The onboard AI’s been trying to say hello. Not getting an answer.”
“How about if we try it?” he persisted.
“Too much of a time lapse,” said Valya.
The object drifted in virtually nose to nose with the monitor. And stopped.
“Diameter of the globe,” said Bill, “is 61.7 meters. The monitor reports it is being probed.”
“I wish we could react to it in some way,” said Eric. “Wave a flag, do something.”
Amy was delighted. Overwhelmed. She raised both fists. “It’s scary.”
For a long time, no one else said anything. It felt almost as if the moonrider was in the chamber with them.
“So what do we do?” asked Eric. “Do we go back to Ophiuchi?”
Valya looked uncertain. “I doubt it would still be there when we showed up.”
“Still,” said Amy, “it’s why we’re out here. Shouldn’t we at least try?”
Eric nodded. Yes. Let’s go. Valya looked at Mac. “What do you think?”
“Let me ask a question first: If it’s still there when we arrive, would we be able to run it down?”
“Don’t know,” she said. “We don’t have a read on their acceleration capability. In any case, we don’t know that it would run from us.”
Or after us. There was a sobering thought. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s see if we can find out what the damned thing is.”
Lou wished them good luck and said he was sorry to see them leave so soon. He reminded Valya that she was not permitted to start her engines until the facility gave her an all clear.
He escorted them back to the boarding area. Minutes later, while they strapped in for another gravity launch, the moonrider began to withdraw from the monitor. By the time they were ready to go, it had almost vanished.
The departure was more harrowing than the docking procedure had been, because the forward area went down, and the chair MacAllister was using faced the bridge, which rotated until it was straight down and he was hanging by the harness.
Gradually, the effect went away, and they were able to move around again. But it was a long, slow flight out to the point at which they received permission to ignite their engines.
VALYA INFORMED UNION Operations that the Salvator was on its way back to Ophiuchi. Five hours later she had a response from the watch officer: “Exercise caution. Keep us informed.”
The monitor passed along its analytical data, such as it was: Moonrider drive unit unknown. Light source unknown. Attitude thrusters detected. And sensing devices. Unintelligible symbols on the hull. “It appears to move by casting and manipulating gravitational fields.”
“That sounds a little bit like what we were doing,” said MacAllister.
Valya agreed. “Except we wouldn’t be able to do it from inside the ship. At least not if we wanted to pick up any velocity.”
Finally, they made their jump and began the long cruise through the fogbanks. Meantime the monitor stayed silent.
Previously, they had passed their time more or less as individuals. Eric enjoyed reading mysteries, and he’d already gone through three. Amy alternated between homework and games. MacAllister worked on his notes or read. Valya disappeared onto the bridge for long periods, during which they could hear the soft beat of Greek music.
There was an inclination now, perhaps in the presence of the moonrider, to draw together. They played a four-handed game of snatchem, talked about what they would do when they got home, broke for a meal, and decided to do a musical.