Mad World Bandby Danielle L. Parker |
Table of Contents Chapter 5 Chapter 6, part 1 appear in this issue. |
| Chapter 6, part 2 |
Lynn saw her husband falter. Michael said slowly, “What exactly do you mean? You’re... at war as well?”
Their visitor shook his head slowly. “Not now; we haven’t been at war, internally, for generations now. But we are survivors of the insanities you are inflicting upon yourselves now. You,” he looked at them both soberly, “are going where we have already been, and you may not reach a similar equilibrium. We don’t know your future, of course, but we do know the factors that brought an end to the wars on our world are not... not present here.”
There was a horrible tense silence before Lynn said sharply, “Are you telling us there are no... alternate Earths, as you call them, or extra-terrestrial worlds, for that matter, suitable for a few desperate refugees?”
“I didn’t say that. We know of few habitable extra-terrestrial worlds ourselves. Our knowledge in that area is not much greater than your own. As for alternate Earths,” their visitor looked at the table, clearly speaking carefully now, “what right do you have to take over another world?
“There is one Earth, for example, in what you would call its Ice Age; it has only rudimentary tribal organizations at present. Suppose we set you down there. In a few generations you would likely have exterminated the local population; perhaps not intentionally, but it would still be almost certain genocide for the native peoples who look forward to their own future now.”
Dorn looked up soberly as he added, “We’ve wrestled with the same choices. We nearly destroyed our world, but it’s ours, and the fact that we have decided to live with it and try to redeem the destruction of our past,” he paused, his blue eyes bitter, “keeps us from forgetting them. I suggest you people learn to do the same thing. You still have a lot more world to work with than we do at this moment.”
“You have absolutely no right,” Michael muttered, “to stop us from trying to save ourselves. The Union is not going to survive this war!” He threw up his hand angrily. “There’s... Epsilon Three. We think it’s habitable, though we haven’t spent much time looking at it yet. What about that world?”
“It could be perfectly suitable and completely uninhabited,” Dorn replied wearily. “It could also cause the death of your world as Demeter Five did to another alternate Earth. Unless you can make a more informed judgment than you, or we, for that matter, are presently capable of, the risk is unacceptable. We’ve learned the hard way it’s a much rougher universe out there than you seem to realize.”
“We’re going to die,” Michael said. He was frankly shouting now, and Lynn, glancing worriedly at the open door, hoped Sammy was soundly asleep. “Even you are telling me that! So isn’t at least a thin chance worth a risk? Give me some options!”
There was a long silence. Dorn’s expression was no longer calm. Lynn was no mind reader, but the strain in that usually placid face was obvious. Dorn, staring at the saltshaker but clearly not seeing it, at last looked up.
“I’ll give you one, personally,” he said. “I can do nothing about your world, and this attempt to reach Demeter Five has to stop whether you like it or not. But I’ll agree to take Sammy to refuge on Soltri. I hope,” he looked searchingly at them both, “I hope you know that I have a genuine affection for your young daughter. She will be well looked after, and she’ll grow up in a... safe place. I promise I will see to it she has the best options Soltri can provide her, just as if she were my own daughter.”
Lynn looked at her husband’s white, tense face. She said cautiously, “In return for what, exactly? What is it you are asking us to do, Dorn?”
“Your husband’s role is critical,” he answered. “He’s responsible for figuring the end point of your wormhole. Don’t make it Demeter Five.” He hesitated. “The calculations to get you to an alternate Earth are... a little different. I can’t provide you that information either. I must tell you that is not a good option anyway, and not just because of concerns for the native inhabitants you might endanger. Your closest analogues are in worse shape than your own, I am sorry to tell you.”
“Won’t,” Michael corrected. He had control of his temper again, but his lips were still drawn thin and tight. “Won’t tell me is the right word, young man. It will likely take us months to re-target the wormhole for Epsilon Three, and I would have to offer a convincing explanation to my superiors for suggesting such a switch.” His gaze sharpened. “Why shouldn’t you Soltrians, if that is what you call yourselves, make that explanation? Assuming everything you’ve told us is the truth. I don’t disbelieve you, but I don’t have absolute proof either.”
“Epsilon Three may be no better option,” Dorn said slowly. “We are ourselves working on ways to make that determination, but even for us, that ability is likely years away. It may require building a true spaceship.” He hesitated, looking at Michael searchingly.
“Just stall,” he said at last. “Don’t complete the calculations for that wormhole. I know from what Martin tells me you got very close to success today. That’s all I ask in return for Sammy’s safety.”
“You do expect us to die,” Michael said bitterly. “Delay a few months, and we’ll be overrun by the Sinoasians, is that it?” He shook his head. “Young man, do you know what our orders are if this base is about to be taken? There’s going to be a large hole... a very large hole... in Death Valley. It will be well named, because none of us will survive. Those are our orders, and I hope you know they will be carried out.”
“I am aware,” their visitor said, looking grim again. “I would say, Dr. Breckinridge, that event is quite likely. The battle in California is not going well for your side. We don’t know exactly when the Sinoasians are going to penetrate to your base, but you’re already at risk.”
“Well,” said Michael Breckinridge sardonically, “perhaps our molecules will reunite in the clouds. Unless you have some way of surviving such a catastrophe, Mr. Dorn.”
The young man shook his head. He said, “No, I’ll die as well, Dr. Breckinridge. As long as Martin and I are here we run exactly the same risk you do. And I, too, would willingly die before I allowed your research to fall into Sinoasian hands.”
“You didn’t answer my husband’s earlier question,” Lynn Breckinridge said cautiously. “Why should you not tell our government what you’ve told us? And why should we not tell them?”
Dorn shook his head. His blue eyes were once again chill. “That’s an unacceptable risk for us,” he said. “You are on the threshold of developing a technology that could reach our own world and others. You are, forgive me, extremely militaristic. Your technologies are at a level close to our own and you have far greater resources. Put yourselves in our shoes for a moment and think about it.”
“And how,” Michael demanded ironically, “would you stop me if I decided to get on the phone and call up my superior officer right now? I’m just curious.”
The young man was silent. He said at last, “I am afraid I must tell you I have the power to stop you, and I would. I am taking a tremendous gamble even talking to you and offering you any options. My orders were,” he looked up, and the blue eyes were suddenly remote, “to take much more direct action, especially once we had confirmed you were targeting Demeter Five. I would sincerely prefer not to.”
“I am going to get up and use that phone, young man,” Lynn’s husband said grimly. “If you have some means of stopping me, you’d better do so.”
Dorn said not a word. He simply looked at Michael, without a change in his calm expression, and Lynn saw her husband’s face slowly redden. It looked like extreme frustration more than anything else, but Lynn, alarmed, said anxiously, “Michael, what’s wrong?”
Michael Breckinridge said flatly, “I’m trying to get up, Lynn, but I just don’t seem able to move my legs.” He looked at their guest with a hard-set mouth. “Very well. This is obviously something you are doing. You’ve made your point, which, as you seem to know, was my real reason for calling your bluff. I just wanted to see what you could and would do.”
Dorn reached for the coffee pot and calmly poured more coffee. He seemed aware that his host’s defiance was collapsing. Lynn, her fingers trembling on her own cup, saw her husband suddenly looked exhausted. Dorn continued to pay tactful attention to the small matter of his drink while the silence stretched.
“I’d like to see my wife safe too,” Michael Breckinridge said finally. “Assuming all this is... on the level. I don’t know what option I have other than to believe you at this point.”
Lynn Breckinridge said immediately, “No, Michael. We both want Sammy safe, but I,” she leaned forward across the small table to grip her husband’s hand, “I’m staying with you.”
“We might be able to find some excuse to send Sammy away,” their guest said cautiously. “I know she has a grandmother in New Jersey she has stayed with before.” Lynn, sighing, decided not to bother asking him how he knew such a personal detail. “But I don’t think we could find any reason to get either of you off the base without alarming your superior officers. If... if I can, before the end, I’ll try to save you both.” He hesitated. “That’s the most I can offer.”
Husband and wife were still gripping hands across the table. Michael, looking at his wife’s set face, sighed. “I suppose you’re right, damn you. We can get permission to send Sammy to her grandmother and then you can divert her en route.” He paused. “What’s Soltri like?”
“Sammy will be safe, and except for the separation from her parents, well,” their guest said, clearly understanding the intent of that question. Dorn looked up, and there was sadness that he did not bother to conceal in his expression. “We value our people highly, and we’ll consider Sammy one of us. Our world is... limited, but quite rich in its own way. And at the moment at least, it is stable. Sammy will, I hope, never know war again.”
Michael Breckinridge looked at his wife. “Lynn?” he asked.
The fingers in his grip trembled a little. His wife said, “I’ll ask Dr. Black if we can send Sammy to her grandmother in New Jersey first thing in the morning, Michael.”
She drew a deep breath. “And you,” she looked at their visitor with eyes that shone with unshed tears, “you are to take very good care of Sammy. See to it she marries some nice young man some day. We’ll accept your bargain in return.”
Copyright © 2006 by Danielle L. Parker
