The Long View, page 29
part #2 of The Long View Series
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if that excess mass sideswipes something, out there in some other track?"
Hoyfarul paused to swallow. "Impossible. The number of parallel continua is a high-order infinity, perhaps the third or fourth of the aleph-numbers postulated so long ago by Cantor. Whereas the number innately containing or producing matter is of a lower order. So-"
Tregare raised an eyebrow. "You figure that out for yourself?"
"The idea's a century old. You hadn't heard of it?"
"The Space Academy didn't go into deep theory much."
Hoyfarul raised a hand to his mouth and coughed. "Yes- of course. I'm sorry-you're interested in the practical aspects. Which is why I sent you the paper." He wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. "The facts you want are these. The added mass expands only into matterless continua. Above light-speed other objects do not exist for you, or vice versa- except as detected by gravitational radiation, to enable you to navigate at all."
Rissa freshened her drink. She said, "I have two questions. How much of this is on paper, only, and how much proven? And secondly-why, after twelve years, have no such ships been built?"
The man stared at her, then nodded. "You're very perceptive. And your two questions are really one." He coughed again. "A little history, if I may. The basic discovery is not mine-my late colleague, Sancia Leckaby, made the crucial breakthrough. We worked on it together and were nearly ready to announce results when-when my dear Sancia was Welfared, by order of Gairn Forbisher."
He paused. "I've heard he's dead. If there's a tape of that death I'd like to see it. Or if you haven't killed him yet, I want to be there when you do. Is that too much to ask?"
"He killed himself," said Tregare. "Not very efficiently; it took a while before his string finally broke. There's no tape; sorry."
Hoyfarul sighed. "That will have to do. Normally I'm not a vengeful man-but you see, I saw the tape of Sanaa's death." He shook his head. "May I have another drink, please? Nowadays I seem to need it more."
His glass replenished, he said, "I tried for Sancia's release,
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hinting-truly-that her work could greatly advance UET's power. Then she died-was killed, really-so until you came 1 suppressed the bulk of our findings. As Deputy Director it was simple enough."
"Deputy?" said Rissa. "Who is your superior?"
"It was Forbisher; who else?" Hoyfarul drained half his glass. "I've tested as far as could be done without exposing the secret, using only spherical fields that produce no thrust. As predicted, mass decreases. I led Forbisher to believe the goal was to circumvent mass-increase to save fuel, only-that the sole obstacle was getting the coherent field to hold together in the presence of the standard one-which, of course, it can never do. What has not been tested-what UET was never told-is the thrust effect of an elongated field."
"But you're telling us." Tregare leaned forward. "Why?"
"Because whatever you are, Tregare-and rumors vary- you're not UET. You know the Hidden Worlds the Committee's never reached-and that's where I want this discovery to go."
He shook a finger. "But I'll tell you-I'm old and won't last forever. If you hadn't come-rather than see the human race bottled up forever by light-speed and its limits-no matter how I felt, I'd have had to give the thing to UET. In fact, I did-in my will." Now he smiled. "Oh, don't worry-when I sent you the paper, I destroyed all documents that might lead to it."
Now he slumped, almost relaxed. "Have I done right?"
As if for action, Tregare tensed. "Will your drive fit a standard ship-do you know?"
"A standard hull, yes. But it requires-oh, nearly half again the bulk of your equipment. You'd have to tear out so much, to remodel-"
Rissa said, "There are ships in progress, building-hulls without much inner structure as yet. Tregare?"
He nodded. "Hoyfarul-I haven't secured the shipyards yet, or your labs. No need, I thought, until later-and my people are stretched pretty thin as it is. The port, now-it's secure as ever will be. If I bring a hull there-can your equipment be moved? And would you be willing to work there?"
The older man thought, then nodded. "The fabrication section-it's less effort to secure it than move it. But the working
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gear, the model-it's on the ship we tested. And the rest, the instruments and so forth at the labs, can be loaded into that same ship."
"Just a minute." Tregare punched circuit directions. "Get on here, will you? And give the proper instructions."
when that was done, Tregare called Bernardez. "Don't mention my most recent order; this circuit's not secure. But if and when circumstances allow, send a ship to the space labs facility-you have the location. Secure the place-special emphasis on the fabrications area-then wait for further orders. Authorized to speak for me in this is Dr. Pennet Hoyfarul." Turning aside, "Come here, doctor, and look at Kickem Bernardez-and vice versa. Tape him, Kickem-for ID to the ship you send."
A moment later; "With his usual superb efficiency, Bernardez acknowledges. It shall be done, doubt not. All this taped to Zelde, of course, so she's properly aboard." A brief chuckle. "Strange things 1 hear, Tregare-and some not so strange. You've bottled the Committee so soon? Well enough; tamp the cork firm and tight. Ah, I'd like to add a thump or two from my own sturdy right heel-but 'tis ever Bernardez' misfortune to miss a few of the good things of life. Though not many, mind you-"
Tregare laughed. "Kickem, you better get off here and back to the job-or you'll miss dinner, working overtime."
"There's no poetry in your soul, Tregare. But give Rissa my love-and Aedra's also."
Turning away from the dimming screen, Tregare said, "Don't mind how he talks, Hoyfarul. You just heard a man who doesn't count the odds-he beats them, is all."
Hoyfarul shook his head. "Whatever made you think I object to poets?"
the three dined aboard Inconnu. Afterward, Hawkman and Liesel joined them. Tregare introduced Hoyfarul; the doctor summarized the technical information he had given earlier.
Liesel turned to Hawkman. "You're the science scholar in this family-what do you think?"
Gingerly, Hawkman sipped steaming coffee. "A few ques-
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tions come to mind, doctor. What happens, say, if you're above light-speed and your drive cuts out? According to some theories, you could explode the entire universe."
"By sudden implosion, in this continuum, of infinite mass?" A headshake. "No. We found-accidentally, as the result of a power failure-that a deactivated field decays in finite time, exponentially. You're familiar with collapse of magnetic field in inductance?" At Hawkman's nod, he said, "Roughly, that's what happens. And since this universe will accommodate only a finite mass increase-well, when the expansion into other continua is reversed, the result is-" He shook his head. "I should say, the result will be deceleration of the subject mass at a fantastic rate-sufficient to accommodate the influx of mass."
"By the time the field's totally dead," said Tregare, "you're back down below light-speed?"
Hoyfarul nodded. "According to our calculations, that's correct."
Tregare laughed. "You realize you just doubled the value of this gadget?" At Hoyfarul's puzzled look he gestured and said, "Your figures showed decel taking as much time and power as accel-naturally; that's what we're used to. But what you say-we pour on accel all the way until we're near destination, then cut power and drop below light-speed using the energy we've expanded outside this space. From there on, it's just like the decel patterns we use right now." Tregare's brow wrinkled; then he snapped his fingers. "Something else. You just cut travel time-for the above-light part of any trip-nearly thirty percent."
Hoyfarul blinked. "Why-I hadn't thought-but now that you point it out-Tregare, I must modify my proposed designs."
"How come?"
"Because, except for ships designed to explore far beyond the volume of space we've reached to date, I've provided nearly twice the necessary fuel capacity."
"So," said Hawkman. "Already we make progress. Now then-doctor, you mentioned second-order effects. Anything more specific that you could tell us?"
"Tentatively, yes. We avoid the mass increase normally associated with velocity, but there is still some increase. It seems to relate to the speed-as yet not satisfactorily measured
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-of gravity waves. But whereas the usual increase varies as the secant of the arcsine of velocity expressed as a fraction of Sight-speed, if you follow me-"
"I don't," said Hawkman. "On paper, maybe, and more slowly..."
Hoyfarul restrained an incipient pout. "It approaches infinity at light-speed; that's what counts. But this second-order increase is logarithmic. Our extrapolations indicate approximately ten percent at light-speed, and thus you'd reach double mass-and a halving of elapsed time-at slightly over eight lights."
Rissa said, "We travel-I have traveled-at time ratios of roughly twenty to one. With your drive-in theory-what speeds would produce that change?"
Hawkman pulled out a pocket calculator. Before Hoyfarul could answer, he said, "Is ten billion lights close enough?"
The doctor stared at him. "It's probably the right order of magnitude. But-you understand-even with maximum acceleration, before you could reach such inconceivable velocities, you'd be halfway to the next galaxy. Assuming you could carry that much fuel, which you can't."
"Just as well," said Liesel. "/ haven't lost anything in the next galaxy."
A knock at the door; Tregare answered it. He turned and said, "Dr. Hoyfarul-your transportation to the port-it's ready, whenever you are."
The doctor stood. "Now's as good a time as any. For me, it's getting late. And thank you-all of you-for your hospitality." He sighed. "It's so good to start putting Sancia's discoveries to work at last."
As Hoyfarul came to the door, Tregare gripped his shoulder. "We thank you, too. And now-at the port you'll be met by Zelde M'tana, my Port Commander. She's alerted; she's assigned quarters for you. You look around-anything you need, don't hesitate to ask. In reason, she'll get it for you. Okay?"
Rennet Hoyfarul smiled. "Oh, I'm easily pleased. Comfort, quiet for sleeping-and never finding that an empty bottle is the last one, late at night when sleep comes hard." He shook Tregare's hand. "Can you comprehend that?"
"Sure. You don't have to tell me you're not a drunk; I can
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see that. Just say what you want in the bottles; we have a good selection." "I'll do that." Waving a hand, Hoyfarul turned and left.
liesel said, "Does he really know what he's talking about?"
"I think so," said Hawkman.
A sigh shook Liesel. "It would be wonderful, of course. But all my life-and before-the Hulzeins have thought in the way we've had to think, to survive. The long view-and this may mean the end of it."
Rissa's hand clasped Liesel's. "Or perhaps-only a new beginning."
"Yes-we could go to Number One, and see Sparline and-"
"If it works," said Tregare.
"Why do you say that, Bran?"
"Because-Rissa, nothing in Creation stinks as bad as dead hopes." And against her will, Rissa thought of Lena Diabla.
for a while they talked of other things-progress in arranging release of Welfare Clients as free citizens-reorganization of the Police from a repressive force to a protective one-Zelde M'tana's bloodless capture of the latest unsuspecting UET ship to land.
Then Liesel said, "Tomorrow we go meet with-my grand-niece, I guess she is-Lena Hulzein. Lena Diabla-not a promising name. Only the five of us, Ivan said?"
"That's not firm," said Tregare. "I turned down only his proposal to fill out our quota with combat types-a drop in Lena's bucket. You have any good ideas? Glad to hear 'em, I'm sure."
"A good thing, Bran-because I had in mind to tell you, anyway." Both smiled. "I have to agree-force is no use there. But misdirection should be." No one commented, so she said, "Rissa-you'd be a lot more use if Lena thought you "re someone else.''
Rissa shook her head. "I do not see how that could be accomplished. She expects me, and she knows of Tari Obrigo and the others. So how-?"
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"Let me show you a tape." Liesel inserted the capsule, pushed buttons. The screen lit; Rissa watched and listened.
At the end she spread her hands in inquiry. "If I had ever seen that room I would think that person to be myself- though I do not recall ever speaking those exact words. How did you do it?"
"Alina Rostadt, you saw there. She's Huizein-trained, but never saw Lena or vice versa. The Underground got her into UET but her programming slipped and the truth field caught her out-I found her one jump ahead of Welfare." Liese! grinned. "She's your size, Rissa, and close enough in age. I saw the possibilities, questioned her-Markine's disguise experts fixed her up to match, no big problem. Three days on the few tapes I could scrounge up of you, and she did what you just saw.
"All right?" Liesel waited.
"It is... totally convincing, even to me. But what do I do? Lena-"
"You still have all the Laura Konig stuff, don't you? That you picked up on Far Corner? A colonial girl-that'd be a nice touch. Quiet, hard to notice."
"I have it all." She nodded, thinking. "I did not ever have time or reason to formulate the parameters of that identity -speech patterns, mannerisms, and so forth. But as a supporting player, out of the spotlight with little need to speak, these things would not be too important-I can synthesize an average of many people and perhaps not break characterization too badly. Is this what you wish. Liesel?"
"I want Lena's attention and aims spread out, misdirected. She knows you, she knows Tregare, Maybe she knows me and maybe not-and Hawkman. We need a sleeper, though-and the way things are, you're best suited for it."
Tregare said, "I have to go with that. We need all the edge we can get."
"Very well," said Rissa. "Then I shall go now, and become Laura Konig. It will take some time, speaking aloud to myself, to manufacture her as a coherent identity."
"Okay," said Tregare. "I'll see you a little later."
"No. Come with me now, or do not be with me until this episode is done. Because Laura Konig does not yet know you, Bran."
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Tregare stood when she did, and took her hand. To his parents he said, "I'll be back in a little while."
Hawkman's smile broadened. "There's no hurry, son-no hurry at all."
after the lovemaking, Rissa said, "I can do the hair faster with your help. Then you should join the others while I take care of the rest-and at the same time practice speech and movements."
"All right." They worked together, and shortly he left. Rissa opened the kit-she made the necessary changes systematically. Dark blue eyes-straight, heavier brows-the first of a series of diuretic pills and a concentrated hormone shot-two tabs of adhesive plastic, and now her earlobes were slightly larger and turned outward-the small blemish high on one cheek, near the eye-the fingerprints-the thin white scar on the forehead, and carefully she parted hair so that the scar continued straight where it marked the scalp. She rummaged -nothing for nose or mouth. Well, Osallin-poor Osallin! how many years ago?-had filled her order in a hurry. Face relaxed, she looked in a mirror and tried various minor changes of basic expression until she found one she could hold automatically. The difference was subtle-but definite.
And now, using the mirror as aid, she spoke and moved. There-that gesture-it is good-keep it. And gradually the personality of Laura Konig emerged.
When she was satisfied with its structure, its firmness in her mind, she showered. She dried and brushed her hair, and dressed in clothing she considered suitable. She stood once more before the mirror, turned from side to side, nodded and went to join the others.
in the doorway she posed, enjoying Hawkman's stare. "Well, I guess I'm ready to go with you folks tomorrow. Long as you need somebody that's not too handy at much else, to run the recorder and keep tapes on what's said." She pulled at a tilted earlobe. " 'course, I won't talk all this much, there." Rissa's dark straight hair had been sitting-length. Laura's
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was light brown and so deeply waved that its uncut mass bulked around her head and barely reached her waist.
Hawkman said, "Let me see if I can figure it out. Your face looks smaller, of course. The eyes, the marks-something with the ears. Movement-and stance-if I saw you only in silhouette it'd still work." He frowned. "And-you're skinny."
She shrugged. "The bra's too tight now, not very comfortable. But pills to get some water out, and a shot I'm glad I won't have to take any more of-I'm not a real busty wench on the records-the damn thing ought to fit better by tomorrow."
