The World At The End Of Time Part 9

On Viktor's next voyage his family came along.

It was an experiment. Reesa was a qualified navigator herself, though somewhat rusty. Though the ship didn't need two navigators-it hardly needed one-there was always work for extra hands to do in supervising the rotor speed and double-checking the orbital position fixes against star-sighting . . . though, actually, when Reesa or Viktor took a s.e.xtant reading on a star they weren't as much thinking about whether their ship was in its proper place as whether the star was. Some of the parallax shifts were now detectable even with the s.e.xtant.

Alice Begstine had proved unexpectedly unwilling to turn Shan over to the newly married couple, so they left without him. They couldn't ship out together more than once or twice, they knew, because when the new baby came Reesa would want to stay on land for a season or so, at least. But it was worth trying, and as a matter of fact they all enjoyed it. Tanya was a touch seasick at first, but it was more psychological than real-Great Ocean behaved itself, as it usually did. The children roamed the ship. One of the crew was always glad to keep an eye on them and make sure Tanny spent her allotted hours at the ship's teaching machines. The baby was as happy on shipboard as anywhere else, and Reesa enjoyed the new experience. They basked in the sun; at South Continent they explored the hills and swam in the gentle surf. On the way back Viktor almost wished they could do it forever.

There was, of course, always in the back of their minds the worry about what the h.e.l.l had happened to the universe.

It bothered even little Tanya, though mostly, of course, because she could see that the grown-ups were bothered by it. And when Viktor took his turn in tucking them in at night he was eager to do for Tanya what Pal had, so often, done for him. The stories he told her were about Earth, and the long voyage to Newmanhome, and the stars. On the last night before they landed he was standing with her on the deck outside the cook house where their dinner was simmering to completion, the rotors grumbling as they turned. Tanya squinted at the sunset they were watching and asked, "What makes the sun burn?"

"Don't look at it too long, Tanny," Viktor cautioned. "It's not good for your eyes. A lot of people had their sight damaged a few years ago, when everybody was-" He hesitated. He didn't want to finish the sentence: When everybody was looking at the sun every few minutes, wondering if it was going to flare like so many of the other stars nearby, and burn them all up. When everybody was looking at the sun every few minutes, wondering if it was going to flare like so many of the other stars nearby, and burn them all up. "When we were first on Newmanhome," he finished. "Now it's your bedtime." "When we were first on Newmanhome," he finished. "Now it's your bedtime."

"But what makes it burn anyway?" she persisted.

"It doesn't really burn, burn, you know," he said. "Not like a fire burns. That's a chemical reaction. What the sun does is combine hydrogen atoms to make helium atoms." you know," he said. "Not like a fire burns. That's a chemical reaction. What the sun does is combine hydrogen atoms to make helium atoms."

Tanny said proudly, to show she understood. "You mean if I take some hydrogen out of the stove fuel tank, and-and what would I have to do then? To make that helium, I mean?"

"Well, you couldn't really. Not just like that. It takes a lot of energy to make protons-the proton is the heavy part of the hydrogen atom, the nucleus-to make protons stick together. They're positively charged, remember? And positive charges?"

"They push each other away," Tanny said with satisfaction.

"Exactly right, honey! So you need to force force them into each other. That's hard to do. But inside a star like Earthsun, or our own sun-like any star, really-the star is so big that it squeezes and squeezes." them into each other. That's hard to do. But inside a star like Earthsun, or our own sun-like any star, really-the star is so big that it squeezes and squeezes."

He hesitated, wondering how far it made sense to go in describing the CNO cycle to Tanya. But, gratifyingly, she seemed to be following every word. "So tell me, Daddy," she persisted.

He couldn't resist Jake Lundy's daughter when she called him that! "Well," he began, but looked up to see Reesa coming toward them, the baby in her arms, the unborn one making her belly stick out farther every day.

"It's almost dinnertime," she warned.

Viktor looked at his watch. "We've got a few minutes," he said. "I just put the vegetables on, but you can call the crew if you want to."

"Tell me first, Daddy," Tanya begged.

"Well," Viktor said, "there are some complications. I don't think we have time to explain them right now. But if you can make four protons stick together, and turn two of them into neutrons-you remember what a neutron is?"

Tanya said, careful of how she p.r.o.nounced the hard words, "A neutron is a proton with an electron added."

"That's it. Then you have the nucleus of a helium atom. Two protons, two neutrons. Only, as it happens, the ma.s.s of the helium nucleus is a little less than the combined ma.s.s of four hydrogen nuclei. There's some ma.s.s left over-"

"I know!" Tanny cried. "E "E equals equals m c m c squared! The extra ma.s.s turns into energy!" squared! The extra ma.s.s turns into energy!"

"Exactly," Viktor said with pleasure. "And that's what makes the sun burn. Now help me get dinner on the table."

As they reached the door she lifted her head. "Daddy? Will it ever stop?"

"You mean will the sun cool down? Not in our lifetimes," Viktor told her confidently, not knowing that he lied.

So the voyage was absolutely perfect, right up until the end of it . . . but the end wasn't perfect.

It was horrible.

Probably Reesa should not have been trying to guide the grain nozzles into the holds while she had the baby in her arms. The dock operator was a new man; he couldn't get the nozzle into position; Reesa put the baby down to shove the recalcitrant nozzle.

She shoved too hard.

She lost her footing and tumbled. She only fell two or three meters, and it was onto the yielding grain-but that was enough. When Viktor frantically scrambled down after her she, was moaning, and there was blood soaking into the top layers of grain.

They got her to the hospital in time to save the baby. It was premature, of course, but a healthy young girl for all that; there was every chance the newborn would survive. And so would Reesa, but she would be a long time recovering.

Definitely, she would not be making the next voyage with her husband and the kids. When Reesa's mother came over, aching and complaining, she seemed to consider it all Viktor's fault, too. It was the first time he had thought of Roz McGann as a mother-in-law. He accepted all blame. "I shouldn't have let her do that," he admitted sadly. "Thank G.o.d she's going to be all right, anyway."

"G.o.d," Roz McGann sniffed. "What do you know about G.o.d?"

Viktor stared at the woman, feeling he had somehow missed the thread of the conversation. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about G.o.d," she said firmly. "Why didn't you marry Reesa properly? In church? With a priest?"

Viktor blinked, astonished. "You mean with Freddy Stockbridge?

"I mean properly. properly. Why do you think we're having all these troubles, Viktor? We've turned away from religion. Now we're paying for it!" Why do you think we're having all these troubles, Viktor? We've turned away from religion. Now we're paying for it!"

Later on, walking away from the hospital in the moonless Newmanhome night, Viktor found himself perplexed. He knew, of course, that there had been a religious revival on Newmanhome-half a dozen of them, in fact. The Sunni Moslems and the Shi'ites hadn't stopped splintering when they broke into two groups; they schismed again over which way was East, and almost did it again over the calendar. (How could you set the time of that first sighting of the new moon that began Ramadan when there was no moon to sight?) The Baptists had refused to be ec.u.menical with the Unitarians; the Church of Rome had separated itself from Greek Orthodox and Episcopalian. Even Captain Bu had declared himself a born-again Christian, and every other soul on Newmanhome tragically doomed to eternal h.e.l.lfire.

By the third year after the spectral shift there were twenty-eight separate religious establishments on Newmanhome, claiming fourteen hundred members-divided in everything, except in their unanimous distaste for the three thousand other colonists who belonged to no church at all.

When Viktor looked in on his father he found the old man sitting by himself in the doorway of his home, gazing at the sky-and drinking.

"Oh, s.h.i.t," s.h.i.t," Viktor said, stopping short and scowling at his father. Viktor said, stopping short and scowling at his father.

His father looked up at him, unconcerned. "Have a drink," he said. "It isn't ropy vine, it's made out of potatoes. It won't kill you."

Viktor curtly refused the drink, but he sat down, watching his father with some puzzlement mixed in with the anger. The old man didn't really seem drunk. He seemed somber. Weary. Most of all he seemed abstracted, as though there were something on his mind that wouldn't go away. "Reesa's going to be all right, I think," Viktor volunteered-angrily, since Pal Sorricaine hadn't had the decency to ask.

His father nodded. "I know. I was at the hospital until they said she was out of danger. She's a good strong woman, Vik. You did a good thing when you married her."

Baffled, slightly mollified, too, Viktor said, "So you decided to come back here and get drunk to celebrate."

"Trying, anyway," Pal said cheerfully. "It isn't seeming to work."

"What is is the matter with everybody?" Viktor exploded. "The whole town's going queer! I heard people fighting with each other over, for G.o.d's sake, whether there was one G.o.d or three! And n.o.body's got a smile on his face-" the matter with everybody?" Viktor exploded. "The whole town's going queer! I heard people fighting with each other over, for G.o.d's sake, whether there was one G.o.d or three! And n.o.body's got a smile on his face-"

"Do you know what day it is?"

"h.e.l.l, of course I do. It's the fifteenth of Winter, isn't it?"

"It's the day New Argosy New Argosy was supposed to arrive," his father told him. "I wasn't the only one drinking last night. Everybody was feeling pretty lousy about it-only maybe I had more reason than most." was supposed to arrive," his father told him. "I wasn't the only one drinking last night. Everybody was feeling pretty lousy about it-only maybe I had more reason than most."

"Sure," Viktor said in disgust. "You've always got a reason. You can't figure out why the stars flare, you don't know what's happening on Nebo, you're all bent out of shape because of the spectral shifts-so you get drunk. Any reason's a good reason to get a load on, isn't it?"

"So I find it, yes," his father said comfortably.

"Oh, h.e.l.l, h.e.l.l, Dad! What's the use of worrying about all those far-off things? Why can't you get yourself straight and live in the life we've got, instead of s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g yourself around about things a million kilometers away that really don't affect us here anyway?" Dad! What's the use of worrying about all those far-off things? Why can't you get yourself straight and live in the life we've got, instead of s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g yourself around about things a million kilometers away that really don't affect us here anyway?"

His father looked at him soberly and then poured himself another drink. "You don't know everything, Vik," he observed. "Do you know where Billy Stockbridge is?"

"Don't have a clue! Don't care. I'm talking about you. you."

"He's arranging for a town meeting tomorrow. We've got something to tell them, and I guess you'd say it really does affect us. We've been monitoring the insolation pretty carefully for about a month now, ever since Billy first saw something funny about it."

"What's funny?"

"I don't actually mean 'funny,' " his father said apologetically. "I'm afraid there isn't any fun in it at all. We decided not to say anything until we were absolutely sure; we didn't want everybody getting upset unless they absolutely had to-"

"Say anything about what, what, d.a.m.n you?" d.a.m.n you?"

"About the insolation, Vik. It's dropping. The sun's radiating less heat and light every day. Pretty soon people will notice it. Pretty soon-"

He stopped and thought for a moment, then poured himself another drink.

"Pretty soon," he said, holding the gla.s.s up to look at it, "it's going to be getting cold around here."

CHAPTER 9.

Although Wan-To was vastly more than any human, he did have some human traits-even some that some humans might have considered endearing. He took the same joys in a job well done as any human hobbyist.

So when he finished putting his star-moving project together, he took a little time to watch it run. It gave him pleasure to see how well his matter a.n.a.logues had carried out their tasks. The star cl.u.s.ters he had selected were all in motion now, and picking up speed. Each of the stars involved was dimming slightly-naturally enough, as much of each star's energy was going into the manufacture of graviscalars rather than radiating away as light and heat. Each star carried with it its planets, moons, comets, and asteroids, all caught up in the graviscalar sweep. His five matter a.n.a.logues were still there. He could talk to them and give them further instructions if he had any to give. But they had slowed to standby mode, waiting out the time until their program called on them to go into action again.

More than that, it was working! He saw with glee that his combative relatives had seen what he had wanted them to see and done just as he had planned for them to do. Of the five star groups Wan-To had sent on their way, two had already been zapped in toto by one or another of his colleagues, each single star torn apart. Two others were under attack. That amused Wan-To. Obviously somebody had come to the desired conclusion that he was in one of those fugitive stars, trying to make a getaway in that unlikely fashion. Well, they would give that up by and by, he was sure. The systems run by Doppels One and Four were now history, and those of Doppels Three and Five were being hit-though not at all with the first enthusiasm-and would no doubt soon be gone, as well.

The trouble was, he found that watching the project operate was not nearly as interesting as making it in the first place-just like any human hobbyist. Wan-To was beginning to feel bored.

And lonely.

When Wan-To couldn't stand the loneliness anymore, the first one he called was Ftt. Ftt was a pretty safe opponent-if he really was an opponent-because he wasn't all that powerful, or all that smart. Wan-To had created him toward the end of his efforts to make company for himself, by which time he had realized the dangers of making exact copies. Of course, even the handicapped ones might develop in ways he hadn't planned, but he didn't really think there was much to fear from Ftt.

It didn't matter what he thought, in the event. There was no answer from Ftt; not from him, and not from either of the other two silent ones, either.

That gave Wan-To some pause. One of them, Pooketih, was hardly more threatening than little Ftt. But the remaining one of the silent group was Mromm, and he was something quite different. Wan-To had made him second, right after he had made Haigh-tik, and although he had begun to be cautious in how much of himself he copied into his offspring, Mromm still had a lot of shrewdness and powers not much less than Wan-To's own. Mromm was very capable-almost as capable as Wan-To himself-of maintaining silence until he had a good target to aim at.

Wan-To was beginning to feel uneasy.

When he tried again it was to the dumbest and weakest of the lot, Wan-Wan-Wan, and Wan-Wan-Wan didn't answer either. In his case, Wan-To considered, it wasn't likely he was lying in wait. Something had happened to him. Wan-Wan-Wan had tried calling Wan-To, and if he didn't respond now the chances were very good that Wan-Wan-Wan wasn't with them anymore. That angered Wan-To; who of his offspring would be mean enough to kill off poor Wan-Wan-Wan?

The answer was, any of them. Given a good reason, he would have done it himself.

Wan-To persevered-cautiously-and by and by he did get some responses.

But when he finished talking to the ones who responded, he knew very little more than before. Merrerret and Hghumm said they were shocked that anyone would do anything like that. that. So did Floom-eppit, Gorrrk, and Gghoom-ekki, but they added that they suspected Wan-To himself. So did Floom-eppit, Gorrrk, and Gghoom-ekki, but they added that they suspected Wan-To himself.

Of course, they all put their own individual personalities into what they said. They did have individual personalities. Wan-To had made them that way. He had randomized some of the traits he had given them-a sort of Monte Carlo process, familiar to Earthly mathematicians-and so Floom-eppit was a joker, Hghumm a tedious bore, Gorrrk, an unstoppable talker if you gave him the chance. It took Wan-To a long time to get rid of Gorrrk, and then he faced the one he was most worried about.

Haigh-tik was his first-born, and the one most like himself.

That didn't mean they were exactly the same. Even identical copies began to vary with time and the "chemistry" of the stars they inhabited; the dichotomy between nature and nurture was strong among Wan-To and his kind, just as on Earth. Wan-To was very cautious talking to Haigh-tik. After they had exchanged remarks on the flare stars (neither exactly accusing the other, but neither excluding the possibility, either), Haigh-tik offered: "Have you noticed? Several groups of stars are moving."

"Oh, yes," Wan-To said smoothly. "I've been wondering what was going on."

"Yes," Haigh-tik said. There was silence for a moment, then he added, "All these things worry me. I'd hate it if we messed up this galaxy, too. I don't want to move. I really like it where I am."

"It's a nice star, then?" Wan-To asked, not missing a beat. "I know you like the big, hot ones."

"Why take a dwarf when you can have a giant?" Haigh-tik responded, with the equivalent of a shrug. "They're much better. You have so much s.p.a.ce. s.p.a.ce. And so much And so much power." power."

Wan-To gave the equivalent of a silent and unseen nod. He knew what Haigh-tik liked, all right. He had liked the same things himself, when he created Haigh-tik-before he had decided that moving to a fresh star every few million years, when the big, bright ones were bound to go unstable, was too much trouble. He offered, "But, tell me, Haigh-tik, are you sure you'll get out before it collapses? Those O types burn up all their hydrogen so fast, and then-"

"Who said anything about an O?" Haigh-tik sneered.

Wan-To's "heart" leaped with exultation, but he kept his tone level. "Any of the big, hot young ones-they can all trap you."

"Not this one," Haigh-tik boasted. "I've just moved into it; it's got a good long time yet. Longer," he added, in a tone that fell just short of being menacing, "than a lot of us are going to have, if all this sniping at each other doesn't stop."

As soon as they had "hung up," Wan-To, highly pleased, began a search of his star catalogue. What he was looking for was a star of the kind human astronomers called a "Wolf-Rayet"-even hotter and younger than an O-and the newest of that kind he could find.

Then, with a certain sentimental regret, he summoned his clouds of graviphotons and graviscalars and sent them swarming to the likeliest candidate. Poor Haigh-tik! But Wan-To was only doing what had to be done, he rea.s.sured himself.

If there was one thing that could frighten Wan-To it was the thought of his own extinction. Stars, galaxies, even the universe itself-they all had fixed lifetimes, and he could accept the loss of any of them with equanimity. If all of his comrades were blown up he could stand that, too-he could always hive off new sections of himself for company (being very careful about what powers the new ones had, this time).

He thought hard for a time about that unpleasant subject. Wan-To was a great student of astrophysics and cosmology. It wasn't an abstract science to him. It was the stuff his life was made of. He understood the physics of the great and small . . .

And he could foresee a time when things could begin to get quite unpleasant for him, even if he survived the present squabbles.

When that particular Wolf-Rayet star was history, Wan-To (metaphorically crossing his nonexistent "fingers") called Haigh-tik on the ERP communicator again. And was very disappointed when Haigh-tik answered.

Haigh-tik had lied to him about his star!

But Wan-To saw the humor of it, and was amused-yes, and a little proud of his first-born offspring, too.

And Pal Sorricaine got his wish. Earthly astronomers did, in fact, adopt the term "Sorricaine-Mtiga stars" to describe that cla.s.s of anomalous objects . . . right up to the time when their own Sun became one.