They were already filling the room behind him. Thompson Burnelli and Crispin Goldreich sitting together at the table, heads together as they horse-traded and maneuvered, playing out the game in which all the Grand Families participated. Elaine Doi, looking more drawn than usual, but then she really didn’t need complications in the year that would see her placing her name into the ring for the pre-primaries of the presidential election. She was exchanging greetings with Rafael Columbia and Gabrielle Else. There were fewer aides this time around, reflecting the increased security and importance resting on the ExoProtectorate Council. Wilson Kime was standing talking with Daniel Alster, looking remarkably unflustered given the certain degree of animosity directed toward him by Council members, led by Senator Burnelli.
Nigel could take the politicking in his stride. Unlike Wilson, he’d never given himself the luxury of a sabbatical life away from the heart of the Commonwealth government. Thinking ahead was what he lived for; and he was pretty sure that none of the aides and think-tanks that the other Council members drew on for their briefs had prepared as many scenarios as the CST strategists had. Some of the worst-case outcomes were going to require counteractions that he would have to undertake by himself, through private and discreet ventures—including the ultimate fallback of evacuating his entire family from Commonwealth space altogether. Implementing such schemes didn’t particularly bother him—in fact they were quite a challenge. The only cause for concern today was the one thing that had been troubling him for several months now, the lack of any communication from Ozzie. Nigel was used to his friend vanishing for months, or even years at a time while he went worldwalking, or even homesteading and raising a new family. But he always answered his messages eventually.
“If you’re ready,” Elaine Doi said, somewhat impatiently.
Nigel turned from the window, nodding reluctantly. He’d been putting off the meeting in the small hope that Ozzie would appear at the last second, unapologetic as always and happy to have caused a nuisance. It wasn’t to be. The doors were closed, and the room secured.
Everyone settled around the table. The Vice President asked for the SI to be brought on-line, and its tangerine and turquoise lines began to shiver across the screen at the end of the room. “I believe we should start by congratulating Captain Wilson and his crew on performing an exceptionally difficult mission with true professionalism,” Elaine Doi said. “I know you had some hard choices to make out there, Captain, and I don’t envy you that, but I believe they were the right ones. Bringing back information was your first priority.”
“What information was that, exactly?” Thompson Burnelli asked. “I consider myself less than enlightened by your trip. Certainly given the cost of the damn thing.”
“That there is a very large, technologically advanced, and apparently aggressive alien species seven hundred and fifty light-years from the Commonwealth,” Wilson said impassively. “They were confined within the barrier, but someone let them out so they could see us. A third party. In itself an action we should consider to be unfriendly at the very least, if not positively hostile.”
“You seriously believe that?” Thompson asked. “We’re facing two sets of aliens, both of them hostile?”
“The barrier removal was not coincidence,” Nigel said. “We didn’t do it. The Dyson aliens didn’t do it. QED, there is another factor at work here.”
“It had to be the aliens which put it up in the first place,” Brewster Kumar said. “Only the people with the knowledge of construction could do that.”
“That makes very little sense to me,” Elaine Doi said. “If you’re going to switch it off when the first ship arrives to investigate, why put it up in the first place?”
“I’d like to address that,” Wilson said. “We have two options, either the barrier was taken down by the same aliens who put it up, in which case the motivation remains beyond us given our current level of knowledge about them. Or it was switched off by someone else, again for an unknown reason; and that is the more worrying conclusion.”
“Why?” Crispin Goldreich asked.
“It was put up to confine what appears to be an aggressive species. Somebody was worried enough about them to build that thing. Now I was there, I saw that barrier; you just don’t build something like that without a very, very good reason. I don’t care how advanced the builders were, the resources and effort they needed to devote to that task were fantastic. They were worried to the point of paranoia about the Dyson aliens. Think about that: a species which can build a barrier around a star were worried. Anything that can worry them scares the shit out of me. And now the Dyson aliens are free.”
“Do you agree with that assessment?” Elaine Doi asked the SI.
“It is logical. We do not believe it was coincidence that the barrier was switched off at the same time as the Second Chance arrived. That it was done by the Dyson aliens seems unlikely. By simple elimination it had to be the creators of the barrier, or yet another alien.”
“Neither of which has any valid motive,” Brewster Kumar said.
“No apparent motive,” the SI said. “But as we do not yet know the actual reason behind the establishment of the barrier, guessing at the basis for its removal is an irrelevant exercise.”
“Don’t you think it was put up because the Dyson aliens are aggressive?” Wilson asked.
“It is a plausible theory, yes,” the SI said. “But why was it deemed necessary to enclose Dyson Beta in a similar barrier?”
“Good point,” Rafael Columbia acknowledged.
“I don’t know,” Wilson said wearily. “But what we have established is how dangerous the aliens at Dyson Alpha are.”
“Apparently dangerous,” Thompson Burnelli said. “Let’s face it, if an alien species had observed Earth in the twentieth century, especially during the Second World War, they would conclude we were irredeemably violent. I’m surprised they didn’t put a barrier around us while they had the chance, if that is the reason these things are built.”
“We’ve grown out of that phase,” Elaine Doi said. “Rejuvenation and interstellar expansion have completely altered our psychology and culture.”
“Don’t start that argument again,” Brewster Kumar said. “We got lucky, that was all.”
“We make our own luck,” Elaine said. “As a race we have great potential within us. Have some faith.”
“We’re not discussing us,” Nigel said. “We’re here to decide what to do about a bunch of aliens with an awful lot of nuclear weapons and a propensity to use them.”
“They have nukes and no doubt a great many other sophisticated weapons,” Rafael Columbia said. “But they do not have any form of FTL, which gives us a safety margin of seven hundred and fifty light-years. That’s a very big safety margin.”
“They didn’t have FTL, because there was no need for it inside the barrier, and FTL was blocked by the barrier,” Wilson said. “But given their demonstrated technological capability, I wouldn’t count on any kind of distance keeping them away from us.”
“How long would it take them to build FTL starships?”
Everyone looked at Nigel. He shrugged. “Like Wilson said, they have a high technology industrial base. Once you’ve worked out the basic theory, you could have a prototype hyperdrive up and running in a matter of months if you devote enough resources to the project. The key question is, if you can put that math together in the first place.”
“We have to assume they can.” Elaine Doi said. “They saw the Second Chance in operation.” She grimaced. “And they might well have Bose and Verbeke.”
“They’ll suicide before that happens, surely,” Rafael Columbia said. “They know what’s at stake.”
Wilson cleared his throat uncomfortably. Everybody around the table turned to look at him. They’d all been in the game long enough to recognize bad news from any distance.
“All crew members, myself included, were equipped with an insert which will perform that function,” Wilson said. “However, we can reasonably assume Bose and Verbeke will assess the situation first. If they were to make an initial nonviolent contact with the Dyson aliens, I would expect them to make some attempt to communicate and build up a rapport. Only if it looked hopeless would they resort to a complete datawipe of their memory inserts and suicide.”
“So they’ll do it then?” Elaine Doi said; she seemed to be urging him to say yes. “I mean, they know they’ll be re-lifed within the Commonwealth. They’ll only lose a day at the most, surely? And it could be a very unpleasant day, at that.”
“I am reasonably convinced Emmanuelle Verbeke will do the right thing,” Wilson said. “But—and I hope to Christ I’m wrong—we may have a problem with Bose.”
“What do you mean, a problem?” Thompson Burnelli demanded.
Wilson stared at the Senator. “His training and assessment weren’t as thorough as everyone else on board. After selection, he spent some time in a rejuve tank reducing his body age. The remaining time was limited before we launched.”
“Then why the fuck did you let him on board?”
“Political expediency,” Nigel interjected smoothly. “Same reason your man Tunde Sutton was on board.”
Thompson leveled a rigid forefinger at Nigel. “Tunde passed every test you threw at him.”
“He certainly did. And if he’d been rejected at the final selection process, along with everyone else who had connections to Earth’s Grand Families, you would have been the first to cause a stink.”
“Maybe. But at least Tunde was properly trained, not like this Bose character. What kind of half-assed operation are you running here?”
“The only one in town.”
“Jesus H. Christ.” Thompson sat back, and gave both Nigel and Wilson a disgusted look.
“Very well,” Elaine Doi said. “In the worst-possible case, the Dyson aliens know a lot about us, they can build an FTL starship, and they know where we are. What do we do about that?”
“Same as the last time,” Wilson said. “Send a mission to find out what’s going on.”
“One that has a greater success than last time, one sincerely hopes,” Crispin Goldreich said.