The starchild compact, p.14
The Starchild Compact, page 14
#
It was time. The maneuvering watch was in place, and Ari had once again assigned Saeed to stop the rotation once he had retracted the tether. Despite his status as a prisoner at large, Saeed had come to think of himself as a member of the crew. The Jew, Ari, had become as close a thing to a friend as he had ever had. Saeed took a special interest in this fact, and researched the Qur'an for corroboration. To his total surprise, he found several passages where it was clear that Allah (praise His name) held the Jewish people in high esteem, second only to Islam. He made a mental note to bring this information to the attention of the Ayatollah when he finally returned. With his new insights into Allah's will (may He be praised), Saeed was certain that he would obtain much higher stature than he presently held.
The moment Ari linked the Pullman and Caboose to the Box, he permitted Saeed to bring their rotation to a stop. Then he performed the delicate reversal maneuver on the Pullman, and clamped it back into the configuration Cassini II had when she departed L-4. Saeed anticipated every move, and decided that he could have performed the operation, had he been given the chance.
It was good to be part of something, Saeed thought, but he also reminded himself that his was a higher purpose, and the moment of fulfillment was drawing closer.
#
"Have you verified the braking burn parameters?" Jon asked Demitri.
"Yes, Captain, twice, and the numbers conform with Houston's to three decimal places." Demitri glanced at Ginger who gave him an answering nod. "We're ready to orient the ship for the burn."
"Okay, then, lock in the parameters, and make it happen."
Although the reorientation was automatic, Demitri kept his fingers on the controls to override any problem that might happen.
"It's do as I say, not as I do," Ari kidded Demitri, reminding him of his own comments about Ari's cautious finger hovering during their first major maneuver. For reasons he didn't quite understand, Demitri felt a bit irritated.
"Ready to commence braking burn in thirty seconds," Demitri said.
After a painfully long wait during which Demitri had to resist a powerful urge to commence the burn manually, Ginger announced: "Five…four…three…two…fire!" Demitri felt the slight push of the one-tenth-g, watched several items settle to the deck, and observed somewhat surreptitiously the way Ginger's lithe body adjusted to the slight gravitational pull.
Ginger caught his look and said with a wink, "The effect is much more pronounced on Michele, you know."
Demitri blushed without comment, and focused on his holodisplay, miffed at himself for being so obvious. It's a wonderful new world, he told himself, but some things never change.
He sat back and stretched, letting the slight g-force soothe his muscles. Jon secured the Maneuvering Watch, so that Demitri remained alone in the Core for this watch cycle. He didn't mind, and spent the time first exploring the face of Saturn through the stern-pointing sensors, and then focusing on Iapetus. He clearly saw the equatorial ridge, and he thought he could see the geodesic pattern, but the moon was in the wrong position with respect to the Sun and reflected Saturn light for him to be sure. He spent the rest of his watch thinking about how they would approach their task – assuming, of course, that Iapetus really was artificial. One part of his mind was convinced, but another had real trouble with the entire idea – it seemed so preposterous.
After watch, Demitri continued his Hyperchess game with Jon, but he found his mind wandering, so that he and Jon ended up talking about Iapetus instead of continuing their game. "How do you propose to attack the problem?" he asked.
"Don't know yet," Jon answered. "A lot of people will be wanting to help us decide once we have a series of clear photos of potential landing sites."
"You're going to listen to them?" Demitri asked a bit incredulous.
"Have to. They're footing the bill," Jon said with a smile. "But don't worry. They are there. We are here."
"That about sums it up," Demitri said with a grin.
#
Orbital insertion was almost an anti-climax. Jon ordered a short corrective burn about an hour before insertion. The insertion burn placed them in a circular orbit, tilted about five degrees from the moon's ecliptic, and about fifty kilometers above the pockmarked equatorial surface. Since Iapetus had a synchronized rotation and orbital period of 79.33 days, a polar orbit would have accomplished very little, except to expose them to a swath of moon north and south of a slice of equator, leaving the rest of the moon unobservable. This way, they could see the entire equatorial region, which was of special interest, and, because of their height, a significant amount of landscape to either side of the equatorial ridge.
"We're here, boys and girls," Jon announced on All-Call. "Now the fun really starts!"
Chapter 14
Jon assembled the crew in the Canteen. Outwardly he appeared calm and in control, but inside he felt like a little boy on Christmas morning. He didn't know whether to shout, run around in circles, or turn summersaults. But since they were in free fall, and since he was the Captain, he opted to float quietly in his traditional position, and let the crew bubble off a bit of steam. As he watched his crew, a line from an old TV series came unbidden into his mind: …to go where no one has gone before… He sucked in his breath slowly and let it back out. He smiled at Michele's antics as she made the rounds, soundly kissing everybody – even Saeed, who blushed and wiped his mouth. He was surprised that Carmen had brought Chen to the meeting, even though he still gave no indication that he was part of anything. Carmen had reminded him only two days earlier that Chen was not in a vegetative state, but that his mind was fully functional. For reasons nobody understood, he simply was not yet ready to rejoin the crew. Carmen had shared with him her belief that Chen was aware of his surroundings at some level, and that allowing his vicarious participation would enhance his eventual return. Jon certainly had no objections.
"We made it," Jon said simply. "We're here." He paused to let the crew settle down.
Michele had kissed everyone but him, and she chose this moment to plant one on his lips. "Mon Capitaine," she said sweetly. Everybody laughed and applauded while Jon regained his composure. Even Saeed seemed to enjoy the moment.
"No long speeches, I promise!" This, too, was greeted with laughter. "We had a couple of moments, but you guys held on, and we made it through the potential disasters, and that includes you, Saeed," Jon said pointedly, but with a smile, to the stowaway. Now we must decide the next step in our journey – where do we land?" Jon paused, and everybody commenced talking at once. He held up his hand. "I sent Houston an arrival notification. We're a long way from home, guys, over nine times as far from the Sun as is the Earth. That's over one-billion-three-hundred-sixty-five-million clicks. It took my signal nearly one and a half hours to get to Houston." Jon paused to let the significance of that number sink in.
"If the Sun goes nova right now," Ari said, "we won't know about it for an hour-and-a-half."
"That's right, Ari. We're a long way from home." Jon then told them what he thought about the mission ahead. He wanted each of them to spend as much time as possible during the next several days, studying the surface from their particular perspectives. He asked each of them to imagine what they would do if the project were entirely theirs. "Where would you land?" he asked, "And what would you do to prove that it's artificial, or not, and if it is, how would you determine the best way to find out more about the builders?"
He retired to his quarters to await Houston's response.
#
In Mission Control, Rod Zakes held up his hand for silence. Virtually everybody who had anything to do with the project had crowded into the room. Members of the press were there as well, their bright lights and holocams adding an unfamiliar veneer to the proceedings. There was virtually no standing room left. Several younger people had actually squatted on the floor between the rows of consoles. You could hear a pin drop.
"They're orbiting Iapetus!" Rod announced. A shout went up from the assembled people – clapping, high fives all around, handshakes and hugs, even a few tears. "Now the fun starts. Jon has asked us for input on selecting a landing spot. You know what that means." Groans from the crowd. "We might as well get inputs from you guys too," Rod added. "Who knows; Jon might even take the advice."
The news of Cassini II's arrival in orbit around Iapetus flashed across the planet. Holocasts everywhere were interrupted with the news flash. In minutes, with a few exceptions, everyone on the planet knew the news. Pundits droned on about the possible artifacts on the surface of Iapetus, and pontificated on possible landing sites. The ambassadors from Australia, Canada, China, France, Germany, India, Israel, and Russia, all called the State Department at about the same time, requesting an immediate audience with the President. Each was politely referred to the President's Science Advisor who explained to each in turn patiently that they had several days to weeks to make the decision. He asked the ambassadors to consult with their governments to assign a specific person to study the incoming transmissions, in order to make any possible suggestions. He reminded them that the Mission Commander, Captain Jon Stock, had the ultimate responsibility for making the decision.
The French and the Russians immediately announced by news conference that their crew members would plant their respective national flags on the surface of Iapetus. German newspapers were outraged – at France, not at Russia. The Indians sent a nasty diplomatic note to Pakistan, now a Caliphate territory, and received back a formal meeting request, ambassador to ambassador. The Chinese put their navy on a war games exercise in the Yellow Sea. And the Israelis quietly discovered another secret Caliphate missile site, and sent a surreptitious commando team to reprogram its targeting software, so that should it ever be launched, it would land on Teheran instead of somewhere in Israel.
Quietly, almost without fanfare, teams of scientists in each sponsoring country began to study the holographic transmissions as they arrived, applying every bit of skill they could muster to determining the best landing site.
#
Caliph Ayatollah Khomeini, sat in his elevated chair looking down at his two trusted advisors. "Eskandar Ali Jinnah, our Mission Control mole," he told the robed attendants, " informs me that Saeed Esmail remains a prisoner under strict confinement." Both men nodded with obedient attention to his words. "A sympathetic crew member, probably the Indian Doctor, is assisting him in getting information back to Jinnah. Esmail is requesting specific instructions regarding his Jihad." The old Imam waved his advisors closer. "We are in touch with India at the ambassadorial level to determine our common interests." He paused meaningfully and folded his hands together tent-like. "Let us devise an answer and communicate it to our warrior in the sky."
#
The Mission Control engineers in Houston were of three minds about equally divided regarding a potential landing spot. The equatorial wall was an obvious target, even though at high magnification it resolved to a narrow string of towering twenty-kilometer high mountains. The argument was simple enough: Why couldn't a twenty-kilometer high, twenty-kilometer wide wall become a string of mountains over a many eons? A second object of interest in the southern hemisphere was a 1.6-kilometer high spire or narrow tower. The argument here was also simple: What natural thing could produce such an object? The third potential landing spot was a bit more subtle. The entire surface of Iapetus appeared to consist of interlocking six- or five-sided geodesic sections. Some of these sections in a band just north of the equator were lower than the rest of the moon's surface, as if they had collapsed inward, almost as though supporting structures had given way. The accompanying argument was also more complex: If Iapetus were artificial, and if these artifacts represented geodesic sections, and if they really were collapsed, then they might present a convenient way to access the moon's interior.
Rod favored the third approach, and he favored giving Jon the largest possible latitude to make on-the-scene decisions. From the inputs he was receiving from the press and the President's Science Advisor, general opinions were all over the map, with a substantial number focusing on the three options his own people had come up with. Less than a week into the process, Alex Jinnah approached him. Rod motioned him to his private office.
"I got a message from the Caliphate," he told Rod in his private office. "They cut a deal with the Indian government, and they want me to establish a link to Dr. Bhuta."
"Did they give you a message for her?"
Jinnah nodded, and handed him a printout. Rod read it with a knot in his stomach:
"Greetings, Dr. Bhuta:
Your mother and father have been placed in protective custody at a secure location to ensure your receptivity to this communication. In your response, to ensure that we are talking with you, please supply the type of gemstone in your mother's favorite ornamentation, and the name she has given this jewel. You are to communicate with Saeed Esmail, obtain his password, and communicate it back to us."
"How were you to get this message to Dr. Bhuta?" Rod asked him.
"As you know, personal messages to crew members from immediate family members were to be transmitted uncensored. Dr. Bhuta has traditionally conducted written communications with her parents in Sanskrit. In her younger years, she enjoyed a hobby of encrypting and decrypting coded messages; her father participated in these exercises. The Sanskrit message I am to send contains a lead-off word that indicates to the initiated receiver that the message contains an encrypted second message. The message I handed you is to be that second, encrypted message."
"Do you have any idea where they're headed with this?"
"None at all."
Rod dismissed Jinnah with thanks, and commenced composing his own encrypted message to Jon.
#
Several hours later, after absorbing the disturbing news from Houston, Jon called Ari to his stateroom. Ari entered, shut the door behind him, and floated at relaxed attention while Jon explained the problem.
"Do they suspect?" Jon speculated. "Or are they just being careful?"
Ari just grinned at him. "Your guess is as good as mine." He floated over and read the message in the holodisplay himself. "Does it matter? We get the secret word from Carmen, and carry on. Until we discover their motive, speculation will do us no good."
"You're right, of course," Jon answered.
"I'm worried about her parents," Ari said. "I think we need to get some of my guys in place to whisk them out when the time comes." Ari floated in thought. "Remember my old friend, Dan Ben-Gurion?"
"He must be getting on by now."
"Not really," Ari said with a smile. "He's about your age."
Jon just rolled his eyes.
"He heads up Mossad now, you know." Jon nodded. "Have Rod contact him with the details, and Dan will put an extraction team into place. Give him an hour's notice, and he can have them out."
"Sounds like a plan," Jon said, and dismissed his friend.
He sat for a while in quiet contemplation, and then he asked Carmen to join him in his stateroom for a cup of coffee. Several minutes later, Carmen arrived, accompanied by a holodisplay of her patient. Jon handed her a steaming bulb of latté.
Carmen thanked him and said, "This isn't about coffee, is it?"
Jon smiled at her, and handed her the communication from the Caliphate. Carmen read it twice, carefully, and then looked up at Jon with fear in her eyes. Her bottom lip trembled, and Jon found himself aching to hold her and comfort her.
"Obviously," she commented, "this has been intercepted." She paused to control her composure. "I have to believe that they think they are communicating with someone onboard – apparently me."
Jon noted to himself that once again a crew member had quickly and accurately assessed entirely unexpected information. "Essentially, Dr. Bhuta," Jon said, shifting to a more formal basis, "you are correct, but I will not confirm anything else, and you are ordered not to reveal any of this to the other crew members."
Carmen looked at him gravely. "I understand, Captain, and accept the restriction." She sipped thoughtfully from her bulb. "Emerald and Carmen," she added, almost as an afterthought.
Jon looked at her with raised eyebrow.
"The gemstone," she said. "Please let me know when my parents are safe." She slipped through the door under a cloud of worry. Jon plucked the still warm latté bulb from midair where she had left it.
Jon composed a detailed communication to Rod, giving him the code words and supplying him what he knew about Ben-Gurion. He ended with, "Let me know as soon as Carmen's parents are ready for rescue. Perhaps you should consider security for all immediate family members of the crew. I don't think anyone anticipated any of this. We're really kind of helpless out here. More than anything right now, we need to know their motive."
#
Carmen approached Saeed with a certain degree of trepidation. She was about to ask him for information that would immediately imply that she was operating against the best interests of the crew. This made her uncomfortable in a way she found it difficult to put into words. She confronted him in sickbay.
"You have a verification password that you received before taking on this mission. I need that password. I also know that you received a duress password that you are to give when you are under duress. The lives of my parents depend upon my transmitting the correct password back. Please remember that I saved your life. You live because of me.
#
Saeed listened to the doctor's words. She seemed sincere, and there was no question that he owed his life to her. But his mission was paramount, and no one, especially not a woman, could stand in the way of his success. Dr. Bhuta had acted as the instrument of Allah, praise be to Him, when she saved his life. It was, therefore, not her doing, but a holy purpose that guided her actions. Consequently, he did not owe anything to her, but only praise to Allah for His miraculous intervention. His instructions had been quite clear. If he was captured or under duress in some fashion, and found the opportunity to communicate, or even to broadcast, be interviewed, or in any other way to get word to the Caliphate, he was to work the word "David" into his comments. If he was unencumbered, and free to come and go, then he was to work the word "Solomon" into his comments.
