Anthony sighed. It was done. He got up, just as Larry came in. For a moment Anthony froze, certain that guilt was written all over his face, that Larry knew he'd been tampering.
"Anything interesting?" the big astrophysicist asked.
"Nothing, really." Anthony's voice sounded strained and flat, totally artificial in his ears. "Time to get something to eat myself, I think."
If his tone was different, Larry didn't appear to notice. "Have fun. Back to the salt mines for me. See you later."
Anthony left quickly, almost bouncing into a wall in his hurry. He had to get this to General Hohenheim immediately.
Then, at least, the rest would be out of his hands.
Chapter 19
"Enceladus." The general pronounced the little moon's name carefully.
"Yes, General," Anthony said. "After I reported the initial find, I did continue my research. Since I knew of the connections, I was able to determine a few more facts to confirm the labeling."
Hohenheim nodded. "Very good. I had hoped for something in the Jupiter system, but we are provisioned for Saturn as a possibility. Tell me what makes Enceladus a good possibility, aside from simply finding markings on one of the diagrams?"
Currently, only Hohenheim and LaPointe were present, as the general wanted to evaluate the situation himself privately. Anthony activated the meeting-room display. A rotating image appeared of a mostly white sphere, covered with noticeably varying terrain ranging from small craters to faintly blue–striped cracks.
"Enceladus has been sort of an enfant terrible for us astronomical types in the past few decades," Anthony said. "It's much smaller than many of the really large moons like Ganymede, Europa, or our own Luna. In fact, at about five hundred kilometers across, it is quite a bit smaller than our Ceres here. According to many theories of celestial body formation, it should therefore be a relatively static body, a dead rock or iceball floating in space.
"Instead, it is one of only a very few bodies in the solar system with known volcanic activity. It has a surface indicating recent resurfacing—in some areas it may have the most recent surfaces in the solar system." He gestured at the faintly striped areas. "The false-color images overlaid here show what are sometimes whimsically called 'tiger-striping,' but what is significant about them is that they include crystalline water ice—possibly less than a thousand years old, or even newer, given our detection of cryovolcanism—and some organic compounds. There are, however, other areas of Enceladus that are much, much older on the surface."
A cutaway view of the miniature world appeared. Hohenheim frowned. He was of course familiar with cutaway views of Earth and other worlds, but this one was . . . odd. It appeared that the majority of the little moon was cold, but that at one point, near the south pole, it was significantly heated. Totally asymmetric and not at all consistent with anything he had ever seen before.
"I see your expression, General, and you're correct. That's called a diapir. The conventional description is that it is lower-density heated material rising to the surface near the south pole. Models of Enceladus have tended to converge on this structure, but what has caused the structure you see has been a matter of furious debate." Anthony paused. "Until now."
Hohenheim slowly turned to stare at the grinning scientist. "Are you saying . . . ?"
"Where is the energy coming from, General? That's been the constant debate. Actually, it's been two debates. First, where the energy comes from, because not all models of the tidal forces active on Enceladus appear capable of supplying all of the energy needed. Second, why it's only apparently active in this one location. One can of course come up with all sorts of theories, and I assure you many have. Enceladus is very small, so perhaps it is not as differentiated as a larger body would be. But other evidence argues against this, such as the geological and chemical makeup. Tidal heating of differentiated magmatic chambers—which being liquid would flex more than the solid material around them—could explain the existence of isolated hot spots . . . if the tidal heating were sufficient. But many models don't show the tides as being quite sufficient.
"Yet there is clearly liquid water present in large quantities on Enceladus. Nearly pure water, in fact, as no ammonia or other materials were detected in many of the plumes. This is itself quite notable, as this means the liquid is at a temperature in the Earthly range—at least freezing point of zero Celsius or two hundred seventy-three Kelvin. That is a quite drastic departure in both expected temperature and expected chemistry for that part of the solar system. Much larger bodies, such as Jupiter's Europa, are known to have liquid water beneath the surface, but it was really quite unexpected to find evidence of it on Enceladus."
Anthony pointed again to the off-center southern heated area, the diapir. "The best models we've been able to make, however, have given us this considerable problem—the tidal forces just aren't quite enough. They're fairly close on a cosmic scale, but we're missing a terawatt or so."
"After all this time?" the general said finally. "That is not possible."
"With all due respect, General, it may be possible. The aliens used self-repairing redundant technology in a number of ways. If the device or devices in question were intended to operate for some unbounded amount of time, they may have simply continued to do so. Or, as I think more likely, they may have operated for long enough to create the current situation. On an astronomical scale, remember, even sixty-five million years is relatively short. If they had succeeded in creating a diapir or something similar, there is sufficient tidal heating to make it likely that it would still be slowly cooling to this day. We would not notice the change on our timescale. But if they did such a thing, somewhere on Enceladus would be a truly massive installation."
Hohenheim stared at the image, trying to envision it. The distant moon was indeed tiny compared to Earth, but he had spent more than enough time in space to recognize how vast even Enceladus was. Enough power to slowly reshape an entire small world . . .
He nodded sharply. "Very good. We must begin preparations. Subtly, of course. We must not alert the Ares people on Ceres to our new intentions. I believe I will arrange an apparent recall of Odin to Earth. Obviously we will not go there, but preparations for departure will be similar. Very well done, Dr. LaPointe. I am sorry you have been forced into duplicity with your colleagues, but in the long run I hope you will find it was worthwhile. At the least, you shall be the first on the site."
LaPointe managed a smile. "Thank you, General. I appreciate your sympathy. I'd better get back to work, though."
"Indeed. No point in failing to gather any additional data."
As the astronomer left, Hohenheim shook his head. Objectively, he was taking quite a risk. The symbols were undoubtedly those of one of the alien bases, and similar to those for Ceres—that is, the markings of the group of aliens who had lost their battle and apparently been evicted from the system. However, if some device capable of producing such power had been left running, it seemed to Hohenheim fairly likely that it could have destroyed the base when it finally broke down—as any device must have broken down after millions of years.
But he was also paid for his intuition, and his intuition said that this was it. And, he admitted, there was also the voyage itself. The course would take them through the Jupiter system, the massive planet's gravity well providing them with additional velocity. Hohenheim also knew that in the many months they had been on station, the mass-beam had not been idle. There were more surprises and demonstrations in store for those watching Odin, and he was looking forward to a bit of showing off. At the very least, the crew of Odin would be famous as the first human beings to ever visit the outer system.
Now, however, he had to have a long talk with Mr. Fitzgerald. There might very well be complications when the time came to leave, and he had to be ready to deal with them all.
Chapter 20
"Looks like the Odin is really getting ready to move out," Jackie said, sounding disappointed. She stared at the
image of the huge E.U. ship in the Ares common-room monitor.
"Yes," Maddie said. "Why, I wonder?"
Jackie glanced sharply at her. "What's bothering you? After all the shadowboxing you've been doing trying to keep our guests from finding out anything, I'd think you'd be glad they were going."
Maddie couldn't help frowning. "It just doesn't make sense to me. The cost of sending Odin out here is . . . Well, it's actually rather hard to determine, but many millions of dollars, maybe orders of magnitude more than that. They could have had Odin doing a lot of other things that would have been potentially profitable, or at least a lot less of an apparent loss."
Bruce sat up a little straighter. "So what's your take, then?"
The former HIA agent shook her head. Being unable to answer Bruce's question in a clear, direct fashion was frustrating and upsetting. "I don't know, Bruce. Instinct tells me there's something wrong here. And I didn't survive some of the things I have by having bad instincts. My evaluation has always been that they came here to see if they could find out something that would give the E.U. a leg up. It only makes sense, given that the IRI and Ares have so far kept in the forefront, with the United States getting the main benefits after that. But . . .
"I know that Fitzgerald's managed to get a handle on what we've been doing in the fusion research—enough that I expected they'd try to suborn our systems or some of our people and send the data onward. With the resources of the E.U., they'd be easily able to develop the Bemmie system to practical deployment far faster than we can, and according to you"—she nodded at Jackie—"and Dr. Vasquez, it's not so far from our own theoretical knowledge that the E.U. couldn't make a good case for having just come up with it independently after the discovery of the Bemmie superconductor, which shook up a lot of theoretical constructs anyway."
"But you made sure they couldn't do that, right?"
Maddie rose and drifted restlessly around the break room. Joe, as usual, was absent because he, Reynolds, and A.J. were still working on the dusty-plasma vessel and, in Joe's opinion, were close to making it work. "I actually made sure that they thought they could do it. And I'm about ninety-nine percent sure that Fitzgerald bought that line, but he ended up not taking the bait. Oh, I'd have shut them down and kicked them out when they tried." She shook her head and gave a faint chuckle. "Maybe I'm just a little full of myself. Richard Fitzgerald might just be smart enough that he saw the trap. I don't think he is, but maybe."
Jackie didn't look very happy. "You think all of them are here to, well, do industrial espionage? Really?"
Madeline laughed. "No, no, not all of them. Well, yes, in that I'm sure they were all told to keep their eyes open, but there's a big difference between that and actually stealing secured data. Your boyfriend is probably just fine."
Jackie blushed slightly—something barely visible with her dark skin. "Horst Eberhart is not my boyfriend. We went on exactly two dates—if you can even call them 'dates' in the first place. I barely know the man." After two or three seconds, she added a bit plaintively: "Only probably?"
"Only probably," Maddie said. "But that's from my paranoid worldview, remember. I get paid to assume everyone's up to something."
"So," Bruce said, "If I'm understanding you right, the problem is that you don't think these bastards got anything, so you're wondering why they're leaving?"
"Something like that."
"They couldn't have just decided you had things locked down too well and, after a while, it's not worth it?"
"Maybe." Maddie restrained the impulse to stomp her foot, which would have caused her to bounce off the ceiling. "But that just feels wrong. They're heading back to Earth. Why? Just to drop off people? No special cargo?" She hated feeling this uncertain. It was something so rare for her that it was unsettling. "Or are they even smarter than I thought? Did they get past all our security, including me, and so what they're doing is leaving with their prize?"
"Maddie, luv, you're the best there is. The only way they're getting away with something is if you didn't know there was something to find."
She froze. Her mind flew back, fitting together the dozens of pieces of the puzzle she'd encountered in the past year and a half.
Maddie turned and propelled herself toward the exit, bringing up her own VRD displays. "Bruce, I think you may be exactly right."
Control. Losing control will do me no good. The general took a deep breath. "Exactly what do you mean by 'insurance,' Mr. Fitzgerald?"
The security chief smiled. "The kind you didn't need to know about, General. It's my job, not yours. Plausible deniability and all that."
"I doubt very much if 'plausible deniability' is all that plausible here in the asteroid belt," said Hohenheim, his teeth almost clenched.
Fitzgerald shrugged. "Probably not plausible to the Ares people, sure. But that's hardly what matters, is it? What matters is simply what people think back on Earth. And for those purposes, we should be fine. I chose the right sort of men for this little jaunt."
Hohenheim suspected that his notion of "the right sort of men" and Fitzgerald's were kilometers apart. But . . .
He took a deep breath. What was done, was done. And he was the one who had set this all into motion in the first place, he reminded himself sharply.
"We are not . . . attacking them, I trust? Because that is directly contrary to our directives."
"Not attacking, no," Fitzgerald answered. "Just . . . making sure they can't do anything to stop us until it's too late. Which was what you wanted, right?"
Hohenheim reviewed their prior conversations. Unfortunately, he had said things which could, in their essence, be read that way by someone seeking to push the envelope. And Fitzgerald was nothing if not an envelope-pusher. He'd have to remember that in the future.
"What exactly is going to happen, then?"
"It's standard CCC technique, General—chaos, confusion, catastrophe. Very light on the catastrophe, of course. Modofori, Salczyck and Zaent are going for the fusion data, just the way I was going to have us do it before, except they think they're doing it as a sort of private side-gig for me. Personal profit, you know, with everyone getting a little cut."
"And you've actually framed them?"
"That's really such a cold word, General. If they don't get caught, they'll be rich men. And the paper trail—electronic trail, rather—doesn't even lead to me, let alone the E.U." He smiled cynically. "Of course, my guess is that little Goldilocks has so many tripwires and traps on that data that the first poor bastard who puts a hand on it is going to lose the hand. Figuratively speaking, at least. But that'll be enough to keep them distracted while we're leaving."
"Leaving our three crewmen behind?"
Fitzgerald nodded. "If that's the way it works out, yes. Their cover is that they're bringing the last of our own stuff back up in the Hunin. We're just doing maneuvers to get out of orbit, ready to do a main burn, far away from Nobel, right? So when they finally do make their break, we just let the IRI grab 'em. Sure, they'll guess that we were trying something cute, but they'll have no proof, and the neat part is that what we were really after they won't have a clue about."
"But when we start moving . . . You do understand that Nobel could catch us early on?"
"Right. It's smaller, they don't have nearly the load we do, they could catch us easy over the short haul, even if we can outdo anything else in the system on the long. So I've got something else set to make sure Nobel can't chase us."
"What?"
"Better you don't know. I think it's all covered, but the less you know, the less you can be accused of. Stop worrying, General. No one's supposed to get killed on this jaunt, and I'm not forgetting that. But giving them enough problems to keep them at home, that's not out of the mission parameters, now, is it?"
"I . . . suppose not," the general said slowly.
"Then I'd better get going. We're leaving in just a few hours, right?" Fitzgerald snapped a quick salute and disappeared out the door.
r /> The commander of the Odin stared at the door, a rising sourness in his stomach. Fitzgerald was too eager, too capable in certain areas and too blind in others. Hohenheim shook his head, unable to fight the growing conviction that things were moving out of his control.
Too late now. Whatever Fitzgerald had planned, at least some of it was beyond any ability to recall. Time to play the hand he was holding. He headed for the bridge.
Chapter 21
Joe drifted in the long, dreamlike strides Ceres permitted, a cross between floating and walking that had taken some considerable getting used to. Usually, you had to guide yourself in mid-trajectory to some extent, because Ceres' puny gravity simply didn't get you back to the floor quick enough. But it wasn't quite puny enough to pretty much ignore. "Jackie, you're sure we have enough capacity for this?"
Jackie's voice over the link was amused. "Joe, for the third time, yes. Do you think I'd have authorized it if we didn't? I'm just busy up here getting Nobel prepped. You've been around the power-distribution stuff enough to handle the install, haven't you?"
"Oh, sure, that's not a problem. The setup's modular. I just know we've been using a lot more power lately, what with the research and our guests and all."
"Well, most of our guests are gone. All but three, I think, and they're getting ready to leave soon. By the time you have the new main connection set and we can lay down the cable to the project, we'll have megawatts to spare. And if it does work, then we'll have enough reason to get another reactor out here."
"Okay. I'll stop bothering you, then." Joe continued along, knowing better than to hurry. In low gravity, hurrying just turned you into a pinball. But part of him still wanted to hurry. Setting up a major new power line was necessary so that they could test the repairs they'd made to the alien vessel.