4
The first time he had talked her down had been sixteen years ago in the year 2220, that exciting year in which the possibilities of the Galaxy had opened up for them.
Janus Pitt's hair was a dark brown then, and he was not yet Commissioner of Rotor, though everyone spoke of him as the up-and-coming man. He did head the Department of Exploration and Commerce, however, and the Far Probe was his responsibility, and, to a large extent, the result of his actions.
It was the first attempt to push matter through space with a hyper-assisted drive.
As far as was known, only Rotor had developed hyper-assistance and Pitt had been the strongest proponent of secrecy.
He had said at a meeting of the Council, 'The Solar System is crowded. There are more space Settlements than can easily be found room for. Even the asteroid belt is only an amelioration. It will be uncomfortably crowded soon enough. What's more, each Settlement has its own ecological balance and we are drifting apart in that respect. Commerce is being throttled for fear of picking up someone else's strains of parasites or pathogens.
'The only solution, fellow Councillors, is to leave the Solar System - without fanfare, without warning. Let us leave and find a new home, where we can build a new world, with our own brand of humanity, our own society, our own way of life. This can't be done without hyper-assistance - which we have. Other Settlements will eventually learn the technique and will leave, too. The Solar System will be a dandelion gone to seed, its various components drifting in space.
'But if we go first, we will find a world, perhaps, before others follow. We can establish ourselves firmly, so that when others do follow and, perhaps, come across us in our new world, we will be strong enough to send them elsewhere. The Galaxy is large and there are bound to be elsewheres.'
There had been objections, of course, and fierce ones. There were those who argued out of fear - fear of leaving the familiar. There were those who argued out of sentiment - sentiment for the planet of birth. There were those who argued out of idealism - the desire to spread knowledge so that others might go, too.
Pitt had scarcely thought he would win out. He had done so because Eugenia Insigna had supplied the winning argument. What an incredible stroke of luck it was that she had come to him first.
She was quite young then, only twenty-six, married but not yet pregnant. She was excited, flushed, and laden down with computer sheets.
Pitt had frowned, he recalled, at her intrusion. He was Secretary of the Department and she - well, she was nobody although, as it happened, this was the very last moment when she would be nobody.
At the time, he didn't realize this, of course, and he was annoyed that she had forced her way in. He cringed at the obvious excitement of the young woman. She was going to make him go through the infinite complexities of whatever it was she was holding in her hand, and do so with an enthusiasm that would quickly exhaust him.
She should give a brief summary to one of his assistants. He decided to say so. 'I see you have data there, Dr Insigna, that you wish to bring to my attention. I'll be glad to look at it in due course. Why don't you leave it with one of my people?' And he indicated the door, hoping ardently that she would about-face and move in that direction. (Sometimes, in idle moments in later years, he would wonder what would have happened if she had, and his blood would run cold at the thought.)
But she said, 'No, no, Mr Secretary. I must see you and no-one else.' Her voice trembled as she spoke, as though her inner excitement was unbearable. 'It's the greatest discovery anyone has made since - since-' She gave up. 'It's the greatest.'
Pitt looked dubiously at the sheets she was holding. They were quivering, but he felt no answering excitement of his own. These specialists always thought some micro-advance in their micro-field was system-shattering.
He said, resigned, 'Well, Doctor, can you explain it simply?'
'Are we shielded, sir?'
'Why do we have to be shielded?'
'I don't want anyone else to hear till I'm sure - sure - I have to check again and recheck, till there's no doubt. But, really, I have no doubt. I'm not making sense, am I?'
'No, you're not,' said Pitt coldly, placing his hand on a contact. 'We're shielded. Now tell me.'
'It's all here. I'll show it to you.'
'No. First tell me. In words. Briefly.'
She drew a deep breath. 'Mr Secretary, I've discovered the nearest star.' Her eyes were wide and she was breathing rapidly.
Pitt said, 'The nearest star is Alpha Centauri and that's been known for four centuries.'
'It's the nearest star we've known, but it isn't the nearest we can know. I have discovered one that is closer. The Sun has a distant companion. Can you believe it?'
Pitt considered her carefully. It was rather typical. If they were young enough, enthusiastic enough, inexperienced enough, they would explode prematurely every time.
He said, 'Are you sure?'
'I am. Really. Let me show you the data. It's the most exciting thing that has happened in astronomy since-'
'If it's happened. And don't show me that data. I'll look at it later. Tell me. If there's a star much closer than Alpha Centauri, why hasn't it been discovered before now? Why was it left to you to do so, Dr Insigna?' He knew he was sounding sarcastic, but she didn't seem to pay attention to his tone. She was far too excited.
'There's a reason. It's behind a cloud, a dark cloud, a puff of dust that just happens to be between the companion star and ourselves. Without the absorption of the dust, it would be an eighth-magnitude star, and it would certainly have been noticed. The dust cuts down the light and makes it nineteenth-magnitude, lost among many millions of other faint stars. There was no reason to notice it. No-one looked at it. It's in Earth's far southern sky, so that most of the telescopes in pre-Settlement days couldn't even point in that direction.'
'And if so, how is it you've noticed it?'
'Because of the Far Probe. You see, this Neighbor Star and the Sun are changing positions relative to each other, of course. I assume it and the Sun are revolving about a mutual center of gravity very slowly in a period of millions of years. Some centuries ago, the positions may have been such that we could have seen the Neighbor Star to one side of the cloud in its full brightness, but we would still have needed a telescope to see it and telescopes are only six centuries old - less old than that in those places on Earth from which the Neighbor Star would be visible. Some centuries from now, it will be seen clearly again, shining from the other side of the dust cloud. But we don't have to wait for centuries. The Far Probe did it for us.'
Pitt could feel himself igniting, a distant core of warmth arising within him. He said, 'Do you mean that the Far Probe took a picture of that section of the sky containing this Neighbor Star and that the Far Probe was far enough out in space to see around the cloud and detect the Neighbor Star at full brightness?'
'Exactly. We had an eighth-magnitude star where no eighth-magnitude star ought to be, and the spectrum was that of a red dwarf. You can't see red dwarf stars far away, so it had to be pretty close.'
'Yes, but why closer than Alpha Centauri?'
'Naturally, I studied the same area of the sky as seen from Rotor and the eighth-magnitude star wasn't there. However, fairly near it was a nineteenth-magnitude star that wasn't present in the photograph taken by the Far Probe. I assumed that the nineteenth-magnitude star was the eighth-magnitude star, obscured, and the fact that they weren't exactly in the same place had to be the result of parallactic displacement.'
'Yes, I understand about that. A nearby object appears to be in different places against the distant background as one views it from different spots.'
'That's right, but the stars are so distant that even if the Far Probe went out a big fraction of a light-year that change in position wouldn't produce a noticeable shift in distant stars, but it would in nearby stars. And for this Neighbor Star, it produced a huge shift; I mean, comparatively. I checked the sky for different positions of the Far Probe on its journey outward. There were three photographs taken during those intervals when it was in normal space, and the Neighbor Star was progressively brighter as the Probe viewed it farther and farther toward the edge of the cloud. From the parallactic displacement, the Neighbor Star turns out to be at a distance of just over two light-years. It's at half the distance of Alpha Centauri.'
Pitt looked at her thoughtfully and, in the long silence that followed, she grew restless and uncertain.
'Secretary Pitt,' she said, 'do you want to see the data now?'
'No,' he said. 'I'm satisfied with what you've told me. Now I must ask you some questions. It seems to me, if I understand you correctly, that the chance that someone would concentrate on a nineteenth-magnitude star, and try to get its parallax and determine its distance, is negligible.'
'Just about zero.'
'Is there any other way of noticing that an obscure star must be very near to us?'
'It may have a large proper motion - for a star. I mean that if you watch it steadily, its own motion would change its place in the sky in a more or less straight line.'
'Would that be noticed in this case?'
'It might be, but not all stars have a large proper motion, even if they are close to us. They are moving in three dimensions and we see the proper motion only in a two-dimensional projection. I can explain-'
'No, I'm continuing to take your word for it. Has this star got a large proper motion?'
'That would take some time to determine. I do have a few older pictures of that part of the sky and I could detect an appreciable proper motion, That would need more work.'
'But do you think it has the kind of proper motion that would force itself on astronomers, if they just happened by accident to note the star?'
'No, I don't.'
'Then is it possible that we on Rotor are the only ones who know about this Neighbor Star, since we're the only ones who've sent out a Far Probe? This is your field, Dr Insigna. Do you agree that we're the only ones who've sent out a Far Probe?'
'The Far Probe isn't entirely a secret project, Mr Secretary. We've accepted experiments from the other Settlements and discussed that part of it with everyone, even Earth, which isn't too interested in astronomy these days.'
'Yes, they leave it to the Settlements, which is sensible. But have any other Settlements sent out a Far Probe that they have kept secret?'
'I doubt that very much, sir. They would need hyper-assistance for that, and we have kept the technique of hyper-assistance entirely secret. If they had hyper-assistance, we'd know. They'd have to perform experiments in space that would give the fact away.'
'According to the Open Science Agreement, all data obtained by the Far Probe is to be published generally. Does that mean that you have already informed-'
Insigna interrupted indignantly. 'Of course not. I would have to find out a good deal more before I publish. What I have now is only a preliminary result that I'm telling you in confidence.'
'But you are not the only astronomer working on the Far Probe. I presume you've shown the results to the others.'
Insigna flushed and looked away. Then she said defensively, 'No, I haven't. I noticed this datum. I followed it up. I worked out its significance. I. And I want to make sure I get the credit for it. There is only one star that is nearest to the Sun and I want to be in the annals of science as its discoverer.'
'There might be a still closer one,' and now Pitt permitted himself the first smile of the interview.
'It would have been long known. Even my star would be known but for the very unusual existence of that tiny obscuring cloud. To have another - and closer - star is quite out of the question.'
'Then it boils down to this, Dr Insigna. You and I are the only ones to know of the Neighbor Star. Am I right? No-one else?'
'Yes, sir. Just you and I, so far.'
'Not just so far. It must remain a secret to us until I am prepared to tell certain specific others.'
'But the agreement - the Open Science Agreement-'
'Must be ignored. There are always exceptions to everything. Your discovery involves Settlement security. If Settlement security is involved, we are not required to make the discovery an open one. We don't make hyper-assistance open, do we?'
'But the existence of the Neighbor Star has nothing to do with Settlement security.'
'On the contrary, Dr Insigna, it does. Perhaps you don't realize it, but you have come upon something that can change the destiny of the human species.'
5
She stood there, frozen, staring at him.
'Sit down. We are conspirators, you and I, and we must be friendly. From now on, you are Eugenia to me when we're alone, and I am Janus to you.'
Insigna demurred. 'I don't think that's proper.'
'It will have to be, Eugenia. We can't conspire on frigid, formal terms.'
'But I don't want to conspire with anyone about anything, and that's all there is to it. And I don't see the point about keeping secret the facts concerning the Neighbor Star.'
'I suppose you are afraid of losing the credit.'
Insigna hesitated the merest moment, then said, 'You can bet your last computer chip I am, Janus. I want my credit.'
'For the moment,' he said, 'forget that the Neighbor Star exists. You know that I've been arguing for quite a while that Rotor ought to leave the Solar System. Where do you stand on that? Would you like to leave the Solar System?'
She shrugged. 'I'm not sure. It would be nice to see some astronomical object close up for the first time - but it's a little frightening, too, isn't it?'
'You mean, leaving home?'
'Yes.'
'But you wouldn't be leaving home. This is home. Rotor.' His arm flipped from side to side. 'It would come with you.'
'Even so, Mr Sec - Janus, Rotor isn't all there is to home. We have a neighborhood, the other Settlements, the planet Earth, the whole Solar System.'
'It's a crowded neighborhood. Eventually, some of us will have to go, whether we want to or not. On Earth there was once a time when some people had to cross mountain ranges and oceans. Two centuries ago, people on Earth had to leave their planet for Settlements. This is just another step forward in a very old story.'
'I understand, but there are some people who never went. There are people who are still on Earth. There are people who've lived in one small region of Earth for countless generations.'
'And you want to be one of these nonmovers.'
'I think my husband Crile does. He's quite outspoken about your views, Janus.'
'Well, we have freedom of speech and thought on Rotor, so he can disagree with me if he pleases. Now here's something else I'd like to ask you. When people generally, on Rotor or elsewhere, think of moving away from the Solar System, where do they think of going?'
'Alpha Centauri, of course. It's the star everyone believes is closest. Even with hyper-assistance, we can't end up going faster than the speed of light on the average, so it would take us four years. Anywhere else, it would take much longer, and four years is long enough to travel.'
'Suppose it were possible to travel even faster, and suppose you could reach much farther than Alpha Centauri, where would you go then?'
Insigna paused in thought awhile, then said, 'I suppose - still Alpha Centauri. It would still be in the old neighborhood. The stars at night would still seem quite the same. That would give us a comfortable feeling. We would be closer to home, if we wanted to return. Besides, Alpha Centauri A, which is the largest of the three-star Alpha Centauri system, is practically a twin of the Sun. Alpha Centauri B is smaller, but not too small. Even if you ignore Alpha Centauri C, a red dwarf, you would still have two stars for the price of one, so to speak, two sets of planets.'
'Suppose a Settlement has left for Alpha Centauri and found decent habitability there and settled down to build a new world, and back in the Solar System, it was known that this had happened. Where would the next Settlements go, once they decided to leave the Solar System?'
'To Alpha Centauri, of course,' said Insigna without hesitation.
'So the human species would tend to go to the obvious place, and if one Settlement succeeds, others would follow quickly, until the new world was as crowded as the old, until there were many people with many cultures, and eventually many Settlements with many ecologies.'
'Then it will be time to move on to other stars.'
'But always, Eugenia, success in one place will draw other Settlements. A salubrious star, a good planet, will bring others flocking.'
'I suppose so.'
'But if we go to a star that is only a little over two light-years away, only half the distance of Alpha Centauri, and no-one knows about it except us, who will follow us?'
'No-one, until they find out about the Neighbor Star.'
'But that might take a long time. For that long time, they would all flock to Alpha Centauri, or to any of a few other obvious choices. They would never notice a red dwarf star at their doorstep, or if they did notice it, they would dismiss it as unfit for human life - if they didn't know that human beings had already made it a going concern.'
Insigna stared at Pitt uncertainly. 'But what does all this mean? Suppose we go to the Neighbor Star and no-one knows about it. What is the advantage?'
'The advantage is that we can fill the world. If there is a habitable planet-'
'There won't be. Not around a red dwarf star.'
'Then we can use whatever raw material that exists there to build any number of Settlements.'
'You mean there would be more room for us.'
'Yes. Much more room than if they came flocking in after us.'
'So we would have a little more time, Janus. Eventually we would fill the room available for us at the Neighbor Star, even if we were alone. So it would take us five hundred years instead of two hundred. What difference would that make?'
'All the difference you can imagine, Eugenia. Let the Settlements crowd in as they wish and we will have a thousand different cultures, bringing with them all the hatreds and misfittings of Earth's dismal history. Give us time to be here alone and we can build a system of Settlements that will be uniform in culture and ecology. It will be a far better situation - less chaotic, less anarchic.'
'Less interesting. Less variegated. Less alive.'
'Not at all. We'll diversify, I'm sure. The different Settlements will have their differences, but there will, at least, be a common base from which those differences will spring. It will be a far better group of Settlements for that. And even if I am wrong, surely you see that it's an experiment that must be tried. Why not devote one star to such a reasoned development and see if it works? We can take one star, a red dwarf throwaway that no-one would be ordinarily interested in, and use it to see if we can build a new kind of society and possibly a better one.
'Let us see what we can do,' he went on, 'if we don't have our energies worn out and broken by useless cultural differences, and our overall biology constantly perverted by alien ecological inroads.'
Insigna felt herself moved. Even if it didn't work, humanity would have learned something - that this wouldn't work. And if it did work?
But then she shook her head. 'It's a useless dream. The Neighbor Star will be independently discovered, no matter how we try to keep it secret.'
'But how much of your own discovery, Eugenia, was accidental? Be truthful now. You just happened to notice the star. You just happened to compare it with what you could see on another map. Might you not have missed it altogether? And might not others have missed it under similar circumstances?'
Insigna did not answer, but the expression on her face was satisfactory to Pitt.
His voice had grown softer, almost hypnotic. 'And if there is a delay of only a hundred years. If we are given only a hundred years to ourselves to build our new society, we would be large enough and strong enough to protect ourselves and make the others pass by and go on to other worlds. We won't have to hide any longer than that.'
Again Insigna did not answer.
Pitt said, 'Have I convinced you?'
She seemed to shake herself. 'Not entirely.'
'Then think about it, and I'll ask you just one favor. While you think about it, don't say a word to anyone about the Neighbor Star and let me have all the data in connection with it for safekeeping. I won't destroy it. My promise. We will need it if we are going to go to the Neighbor Star. Will you go that far at least, Eugenia?'
'Yes,' she said at last in a small voice. Then she fired up. 'One thing, though. I must be able to name the star. If I give it a name, then it's my star.'
Pitt smiled briefly. 'What do you want to call it? Insigna's Star? Eugenia's Star?'
'No. I'm not that foolish. I want to call it Nemesis.'
'Nemesis? N-E-M-E-S-I-S?'
'Yes.'
'But why?'
'There was a brief period of speculation back in the late twentieth century about the possibility of a Neighbor Star for the Sun. It came to nothing at that time. No Neighbor Star was found, but it had been referred to as "Nemesis" in the papers devoted to it. I would like to honor those daring thinkers.'
'Nemesis? Wasn't there a Greek goddess of that name? An unpleasant one?'
'The Goddess of Retribution, of Justified Revenge, of Punishment. It entered the language as a rather flowery word. The computer called it "archaic" when I checked.'
'And why would those old-timers have called it Nemesis?'
'Something to do with the cometary cloud. Apparently, Nemesis, in its revolution about the Sun, passed through the cloud and induced cosmic strikes that killed off large portions of Earth life every twenty-six million years.'
Pitt looked astonished. 'Really?'
'No, not really. The suggestion didn't survive, but I want Nemesis to be the name just the same. And I want it to go on record that I named it.'
'I promise you that, Eugenia. It's your discovery and that will enter our records. Eventually, when the rest of humanity discovers the Nemesian region - would that be the right way of putting it? - they will then learn who made the discovery and how it came about. Your star, your Nemesis, will be the first star, other than the Sun itself, to shine over a human civilization; and the first, without exception, to shine over a human civilization that originated elsewhere.'
Pitt watched her leave and felt, on the whole, confident. She would fall in line. His letting her name the star was the perfect touch. Surely she would want to go to her own star. Surely she would feel the attraction of building a logical and orderly civilization about her star, one from which civilizations all over the Galaxy might descend.
And then, just as he might have relaxed in the glow of a golden future, he was shaken by a faint touch of horror that was utterly alien to him.
Why Nemesis? Why should it have occurred to her to name it for the Goddess of Retribution?
He was almost weak enough to think of it as an evil omen.