would have instantly fried on the Martian entry. He hoped so.
“Current evaluation.” The computer continued its presentation . ‘ ‘Mycological life of a low order may exist and, as mentioned, bacteria cannot be discounted. Any other form of life is rated improbable, and could only find a life-support system within the planet; but rudimentary worms are possible. Higher life may have existed before the atmosphere and water were lost, something less than half a million years ago. Prognosis: when Sol becomes a red giant, Mars will survive, being beyond the predicted envelope of the expanded Sol; Earth will not. Therefore, in cosmological terms, Mars is of higher value, for Earth cannot survive the cataclysm.”
For a long time Forbin stared at the blackout screen. Much the Martians had said was confirmed, and now this new item, on file in his own private library: in time Earth would end. Mars would not.
That night he slept badly, enduring disordered dreams, shot through with visions of Earth’s end, fearful insights into Blake’s tortured mind, and worse, intimations of his own mind, gone wild. Jerked sweating from his dreams, he lay awake for hours, his brain trying to come to terms with a new order of values.
Had the Martians right on their side? In light of those calculations which predicted the destruction of Earth when the sun became a nova, were not the aliens, as sole heirs to life in the solar system, right in their demands? Was man a second-class citizen of the solar system, doomed - if he lasted that long - to total and sudden extinction in the boiling gases of the exploding sun?
And had Colossus appreciated all this, aimed at transplanting himself, and possibly humans, to Mars? If so, the Martians had every right to regard Colossus - and man - as hostile … .
He rose at the first light of dawn and watched the chill beauty of the eastern sky. The sun - giver of life and, ultimately, death. The end might lie far distant and, at his present state of development, man could do nothing about it; but supposing in a hundred, a thousand years, humans found the power to leave ill-fated Earth, to adapt to a new life on the only other possible planet, Mars?
Forbin’s liberal outlook allowed him to put himself in the Martian position. What he could think, they most certainly could. He saw that Earth posed a hideous danger to them, and their unknown life.
He had to talk with them, at once.
Chapter XI
CROSSING TO HIS DESK, he forced himself not to look in their direction until he was seated, an action which might not particularly impress them but did his morale some much-needed good.
They rested in their usual position, two intensely matt-black spheres, innocuous to an ignorant observer, but very sinister to Forbin. Looking at them, his heart thumping, he noted once again the way they reflected nothing, sucking in light in an unearthly way. He knew little of astrophysics, but enough to appreciate that he was looking, in terms of light, at the nearest equivalent to the even horizon of a black hole.
“We must talk.” He hardly recognized his own voice.
“Proceed.”
He plunged. “Do you still maintain Colossus was a
threat to you?”
“Yes.”
“And us - humanity?”
“On your own, no. Led by Colossus, yes.”
It made horrible sense. “In what way?”
“Our intelligence on Colossus was necessarily small, but the pattern of your machine’s astronomical research revealed not only where its interests lay, but also how far it had progressed.”
“How could you know that?”
“We read the data-links between Colossus and your Luna observatories and Earth-probes. We also intercepted all transmissions in whatever part of the spectrum, from Earth, Moon, and probes; their very nature revealed Colossus’s train of thought. It required very little effort to see the practical reason motivating these researches.”
Forbin breathed faster. He was right: Colossus had been a threat - to deny it would be
“Current evaluation.” The computer continued its presentation . ‘ ‘Mycological life of a low order may exist and, as mentioned, bacteria cannot be discounted. Any other form of life is rated improbable, and could only find a life-support system within the planet; but rudimentary worms are possible. Higher life may have existed before the atmosphere and water were lost, something less than half a million years ago. Prognosis: when Sol becomes a red giant, Mars will survive, being beyond the predicted envelope of the expanded Sol; Earth will not. Therefore, in cosmological terms, Mars is of higher value, for Earth cannot survive the cataclysm.”
For a long time Forbin stared at the blackout screen. Much the Martians had said was confirmed, and now this new item, on file in his own private library: in time Earth would end. Mars would not.
That night he slept badly, enduring disordered dreams, shot through with visions of Earth’s end, fearful insights into Blake’s tortured mind, and worse, intimations of his own mind, gone wild. Jerked sweating from his dreams, he lay awake for hours, his brain trying to come to terms with a new order of values.
Had the Martians right on their side? In light of those calculations which predicted the destruction of Earth when the sun became a nova, were not the aliens, as sole heirs to life in the solar system, right in their demands? Was man a second-class citizen of the solar system, doomed - if he lasted that long - to total and sudden extinction in the boiling gases of the exploding sun?
And had Colossus appreciated all this, aimed at transplanting himself, and possibly humans, to Mars? If so, the Martians had every right to regard Colossus - and man - as hostile … .
He rose at the first light of dawn and watched the chill beauty of the eastern sky. The sun - giver of life and, ultimately, death. The end might lie far distant and, at his present state of development, man could do nothing about it; but supposing in a hundred, a thousand years, humans found the power to leave ill-fated Earth, to adapt to a new life on the only other possible planet, Mars?
Forbin’s liberal outlook allowed him to put himself in the Martian position. What he could think, they most certainly could. He saw that Earth posed a hideous danger to them, and their unknown life.
He had to talk with them, at once.
Chapter XI
CROSSING TO HIS DESK, he forced himself not to look in their direction until he was seated, an action which might not particularly impress them but did his morale some much-needed good.
They rested in their usual position, two intensely matt-black spheres, innocuous to an ignorant observer, but very sinister to Forbin. Looking at them, his heart thumping, he noted once again the way they reflected nothing, sucking in light in an unearthly way. He knew little of astrophysics, but enough to appreciate that he was looking, in terms of light, at the nearest equivalent to the even horizon of a black hole.
“We must talk.” He hardly recognized his own voice.
“Proceed.”
He plunged. “Do you still maintain Colossus was a
threat to you?”
“Yes.”
“And us - humanity?”
“On your own, no. Led by Colossus, yes.”
It made horrible sense. “In what way?”
“Our intelligence on Colossus was necessarily small, but the pattern of your machine’s astronomical research revealed not only where its interests lay, but also how far it had progressed.”
“How could you know that?”
“We read the data-links between Colossus and your Luna observatories and Earth-probes. We also intercepted all transmissions in whatever part of the spectrum, from Earth, Moon, and probes; their very nature revealed Colossus’s train of thought. It required very little effort to see the practical reason motivating these researches.”
Forbin breathed faster. He was right: Colossus had been a threat - to deny it would be
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