Cold as Ice (34 page)

But before he began that detailed analysis, announcement must be made of his discovery. Jon set the
Spindrift
onto an automated maximum-speed return path to Blowhole, while he, in his adrenalin high, settled down to decide the message that he would send when he reached the station and could get his hands on a wide-open communication channel.

It had to be something intriguing, something powerful. Something with a headline that would grab people who normally cared nothing for scientific results.

"Discovery: We Are Not Alone." That was not specific enough.

"Discovery: Existence of Alien Life Forms Confirmed in Europan Ocean." That, according to Nell, was just the sort of thing that made millions of people turn off their sets without waiting for details. "What people want, Jon, is horror and sex and violence. And if they can't get those in their own lives, video is the next best thing."

All right. How about, "The Terrifying Giant Striped Leeches of Europa. Pictures Follow."

Jon grinned as he imagined that one burning its way across the solar system information channels. Then he thought of something else that Nell had told him, and the grin vanished. During her review of his taped show back on Earth, she had nodded to the screen at one point and said, "You're all right, mostly. You come across like a sober, serious scientist, the sort people trust and believe. But now and again I see a great big lump of ham in you, struggling to get out. Don't let it."

He could think of a dozen bizarre or striking ways to announce the confirmation of Europan life. But Nell was right, they would not do. No ham today. This was too important for cuteness, too big for self-aggrandizement, too profound for trivialities.

The message that he finally sent to Mount Ararat was addressed not to the whole solar system, but to Hilda Brandt alone. It read: "The existence of Europan native life is confirmed. I am now beginning detailed analysis. Jon Perry."

19
The Touch of Torquemada

Sometimes a beautiful theory must bend in submission to an ugly fact. Bat was ready to admit that the point had been reached. Almost.

He scowled at the screen. "Do you have physical proof?"

"Of course I don't have
physical proof
." Mord scowled right back at him. "I don't have physical
anything.
I'm a disembodied entity, remember, the ghost of the machine. I can't carry around a bag of documents and pictures and diaries, the way you carry a bag of doughnuts. But I'm sure I'm right, sure as you're sitting there feeding your fat face."

"And it was true for the whole period of the war?"

"Except maybe for a week of two when he had to travel to Ceres. I saw him in the cafeteria just about every day. He must have been twenty or so, but he already had a head full of wild ideas about fusion. He'd talk your ear off if you let him."

"No trips to Mandrake?"

"Hell, I don't know. So what if there were? Mobarak wasn't masterminding bio weapons development, that's for sure. We were all so damned busy, we hardly had time to take a leak. Anyway, far as I know he didn't understand any more biology than I did. And I can tell you for a fact that he was right there with us on Pallas at the end of the war. I remember talking to him. We were all wondering if we were going to be blown to blazes in one last big flare-up of the fighting."

The cameras that served as Mord's eyes zoomed in for a close-up of Bat's face. Mord's image sniffed. "I don't get this at all. You told me Mobarak's one of the few people allowed to come in here to see you without a big hassle. I thought he was your
buddy
."

"He is in many ways a kindred spirit. And just as certainly he is also my long-time adversary. For he is Torquemada, and as such, he is many things." Bat sighed. "So once again it will be necessary to meet with him. In person. Do you wish to remain?"

"Me? You're out of your tiny mind. Sit and listen to you two again, telling each other your daft riddles? I'd rather die. If I hadn't already." Mord reached out a simulated hand and switched himself off.

* * *

"You have heard the recent news of Europa?" Usually the conversation would begin far from its central concerns and spiral toward that axis through infinite whorls of digression. But today Bat appeared unwilling to display the subtle touch of Megachirops.

Cyrus Mobarak shrugged. As always in his meetings with Bat he showed no signs of his public flamboyance.

"Which I take to be an affirmative," went on Bat. "And so I ask my next question: Have you seen today's pronouncement by the members of Outward Bound?"

"I skimmed it. They're predictable. I could have written their reaction myself."

"But you would not. They are confident that they have the votes in the General Assembly to ban your fusion project on Europa. The reputed confirmation of native life forms has tilted the balance in their favor."

"So they say. We shall see." Mobarak stirred in his seat, as though infected by Bat's directness and eager to move on. "I don't think they will win."

"Indeed? The work of Dr. Perry has dealt them a powerful card, and they have long been your sworn enemies. It is tempting to identify them as the secret and inimical presence whom you detect in the Jovian system." Bat's eyes were invisible, hidden by the dark cowl around his head. His voice was distant, almost dreamy. "Of course, I cannot bring myself to offer such an identification, for two reasons well known to you. First, the members of Outward Bound could hardly be your
secret
enemy. They make no attempt to disguise their feelings about you."

"And the second reason?" After twenty years of interaction through the Puzzle Network, Mobarak knew the mind of Megachirops. The opening gambit was on its way, but it would not be the main purpose of the meeting. An onlooker would have seen no more than two men sitting in civilized conversation. The other levels of communication—or combat—four or five layers deep, remained hidden.

"They do not qualify as your enemy, Cyrus Mobarak, because you are no enemy of theirs. On the contrary, you, as Torquemada, are their
principal financial supporter
, and have been so for years."

"A strange thought." But Mobarak was smiling the urbane, guarded smile that so annoyed Nell Cotter. "Why would I give money to people who hate me, and who fight against everything that I want to do?"

"You ask me to conjecture? It would surely be quicker and more certain if you were to explain. Unless you propose to dispute my statements?"

"Not at all." Mobarak gave a quick chopping movement of his hand to suggest that what Bat had said was self-evident. "Where do you want to begin? I'm assuming that you already know the 'big secret' of Outward Bound."

"That the real objective of Project
Starseed
is not an unmanned ship to the nearer stars, but a
manned
ship that will carry a selected few to explore the Oort Cloud? That is obvious, but it does not enlighten."

"Ah, but a ship with a human crew has other needs." Mobarak appeared to be scanning Bat Cave, never meeting Bat's eyes. "Why does Outward Bound insist on a helium-3/deuterium drive? Because such a drive produces only charged-fusion products,
magnetically controllable
fusion products, which can be diverted from the crew's living area. So there is a need for far less shielding. And why do they care about
that
? Only because shielding is heavy. They wish to minimize
travel time.
That's why they avoid the use of the Mobies, and that is why they say that I am the enemy."

"And you are not?"

"I am their single best hope. They do not know—because I have not yet told them—that I now have Mobies that produce only charged-fusion products. There will be a time for that revelation, when
Starseed
is almost ready to fly. Meanwhile, their dislike of the Mobarak fusion drives serves one central function. It
unites
Outward Bound. It is one of their few points of total agreement."

"And you need that unity."

"I do. I'm sure that you can tell me why, since it is a point amenable to the process of pure deduction. Unless you have been too busy
sitting there feeding your fat face
." Mobarak repeated Mord's words with no trace of expression, and they produced no reaction from Bat. But the unspoken exchange was clear to both men.

I have a data tap that tells me what goes on in your very own Bat Cave.

I am well aware of that. And you know that I know, or you would not have revealed your knowledge to me. But as you are also aware, more goes on in Bat Cave than you can discover from your data tap.

More goes on in Bat Cave, and more goes on inside the head of Rustum Battachariya. That is why I am here.

"If you heard those words," replied Bat, "you also realize that my suspicions of you as far as Mandrake are concerned have been completely banished."

"I could have given you an assurance long ago."

"You could have indeed. But would I have believed it?"

"Let me say it, and you can decide: I have never visited Mandrake, not ever. And I cannot tell you who conducted those biological experiments at the time of the Great War."

There was a tiny pause, a moment of suspense so short that no onlooker would have caught it. It said to both men;
"This is the crux, the central moment of the meeting."

"Oddly enough, I believe that each of those statements is true." Bat was smiling at some secret joke. "Language is a wonderfully flexible tool, is it not? It allows so many statements to be made, literally true ones, yet whose meaning depends wholly on interpretation. So let us return to the mystery of Outward Bound."

"Shall I say it, or will you? There is no mystery. The Outward Bound members are fanatics. Their hearts are set on the Outer System, on Saturn and beyond. They oppose
anything
—such as the large-scale changes that the devil incarnate, Cyrus Mobarak, proposes for Europa—that might focus solar system attention and resources on the Jovian system. They like to think that they are winning, and that Europa will remain undeveloped. But the issue is far from settled. The crucial Assembly votes will soon take place. Now suppose that at this critical moment, native life were to be discovered on Europa by Dr. Jon Perry, Earth's top expert on hydrothermal-vent life forms."

Bat was nodding, his eyes half closed. "That result has not been officially confirmed."

"But your sources have already picked it up, and so have many others. The word was leaked to Outward Bound, and not by me. Using all of the financial resources that they can lay their hands on—let us not waste time asking where those resources come from—Outward Bound is trumpeting the news of that discovery from every media outlet, together with the message: 'Europan life must be protected.' They are doing it now, as we sit here. Within the next few days, every person in the system will have heard their pronouncement."

"And your Europan development will be thwarted."

"For the moment. But suppose that Outward Bound were then to be discredited and forced to admit that they were
wrong
? That there is no native life on Europa? With such an admission, Outward Bound's credibility would collapse. All
moderate
opposition to the Europan fusion project would vanish with it. A vote in the project's favor by the General Assembly would be a foregone conclusion. The battle would be over."

Mobarak raised bushy grey eyebrows at Bat and leaned back in his seat. He gave every impression of a man who had said all that needed to be said.

As indeed he had. Bat could see the picture, more of it than he was meant to see. He could fill in every blank on Torquemada's canvas. Except one crucial element.

"
When
do you expect a second announcement?"

Cyrus Mobarak shrugged. "There I can only guess. That element of timing is beyond my control. But I will be surprised if it takes more than a few days."

20
Storm on Europa

Mount Ararat was a small research base, designed to accommodate only a couple of hundred scientists, but nothing had been skimped in the way of equipment. Jon compared his working tools with those available on the PacAnt floating bases, and decided again and again in favor of Europa. For Hilda Brandt's researchers, it was nothing but the best.

The Mount Ararat equipment was so good that the trickiest part of Jon's work had been the first task; the transfer of specimens from the pressurized storage units of the
Spindrift
to High-P tanks in the base's lab. He had done that himself, unwilling to allow anyone else to touch the containers. His official reason was that he did not want others exposed to the risk should one of the
Spindrift
's pressure tanks fail; their contents, still at six hundred atmospheres, had the stored energy of bombs. But the real reason had nothing to do with safety: Jon was simply fascinated by what he had found. Until his analysis was complete, he wanted the Europan life forms all to himself.

The first few hours were spent in separating the specimens into discrete chambers, each only a foot across. Then he could change the internal pressure of any chosen tank to see how individual organisms were affected by pressure reduction. Jon had done the same thing many times on Earth. General behavior changed first, and ultimately damage came in the form of cellular disruption.

If, that is, Europan forms
had
cellular structure. Jon had to remind himself, again and again:
This is alien life.
To assume that it had a resemblance to
anything
on Earth would be to run the risk of committing a major blunder.

Remember the Burgess Shale.
The history of Earth biology was full of cases like that famous one, where a worker had shoehorned new discoveries into existing classes and phyla and led the field astray for decades.

Jon had that example in his head when he began with an analysis of the general structure and anatomy of his specimens. If he were to play the role of a new Linnaeus, a whole taxonomy for Europan life had to be created. But he had tools of which Carl von Linne, back in the eighteenth century, could not have dreamed. Low-intensity radiation and particles provided three-dimensional tomographic plots of internal structure. Tuned frequency lasers offered the chemical composition of every organ, at submillimeter resolution. Quantum interference devices delicately mapped minute magnetic fields, along with the tiny currents that created them.