Transhumanists’ technology, which can produce small, cheap displacers, and scaling it up to that . . .”
“Something else,” Mondrago pointed out. “Their time travel technology is also an order of magnitude more energy-efficient than ours, which is one of the things that makes it so cheap. But look at the size of that antimatter powerplant! If they need to pump all that power into one of their displacers, then whatever it is they send back in time must either be massive as hell, or else go back a lot of years, or both.”
“Buy why send anything at all?” demanded Rojas, clearly perplexed. “Building this installation out here, sixty-three light-years from Earth, must have been a supreme effort for them. Why should they make such an effort to go back into the past of this godforsaken, lifeless, historyless ball of sand?”
“Well,” Jason deadpanned, “at least they don’t have to worry about the Observer Effect.” Rojas’ expression told him this was not the time for levity. He turned to Tomori. “Your sensors were going throughout our approach to this planet, right? Can you go back over the readings, visual and otherwise, and see if there’s anything here besides that base?”
“Certainly. I’ll just tell the computer what sort of things to look for.” Her manipulations didn’t take long, and the computer scan was even briefer. “No,” she stated unhesitatingly. “Aside from the base, this planet is exactly what you would expect it to be. There’s not another artifact on it.”
“So,” said Chantal, “they’re not doing—or, I should say, haven’t done—anything on this planet in the past that has left any traces in the present.”
For a moment they all reverted to silence in the face of the unfathomable.
“Can you zoom in closer?” Jason finally asked Tomori. “I want a closer look at that displacer.”
“Yes. We still have a while before our orbit carries us around to the other side of the planet.” The base expanded still further, and Jason studied the vast circular displacer stage, as he decided he must continue to think of it even though, unlike the Authority’s Australian facility, it wasn’t covered by a dome. Such a dome would have been a colossal feat of engineering for an expanse this size, and on this planet there wasn’t the same need to shield it from the weather. The control stations surrounding it were, however domed . . . and as Jason watched, tiny antlike figures moved purposefully into those small domes.
“There’s activity around that displacer,” he said in a voice charged with tightly controlled excitement. “Is there any energy buildup from that powerplant?”
“No,” Tomori told him. “The emissions are holding steady.”
Jason and Mondrago met each other’s eyes. Mondrago spoke. “That can only mean—”
All at once, the displacer stage was no longer empty.
There was never any warning of a temporal retrieval, which was why they were always timed according to a rigid schedule. The person or object, its temporal energy potential restored, simply appeared with a slight swirl of displaced air. Only . . . this time the swirl was not slight. Even in this thin atmosphere, a small, brief dust storm blew over the control domes, for the mass that had materialized was that of a spaceship of the same class as the one that they had followed to this system. It rose slightly on grav repulsion and moved off the stage. That was the last thing they saw before their orbit carried them around the limb of the planet.
Chantal broke the silence with a chuckle.
“What, exactly, is funny?” Rojas demanded.
Chantal continued to smile. “There’s an old saying, Major: many a true word is spoken in jest. And I think Commander Thanou may have hit on the truth with his earlier crack about the Observer Effect.”
“Explain.”
“Clearly the Transhumanists are doing something—and of course we still don’t know what—off Earth, and in the past. Suppose the
“Something else,” Mondrago pointed out. “Their time travel technology is also an order of magnitude more energy-efficient than ours, which is one of the things that makes it so cheap. But look at the size of that antimatter powerplant! If they need to pump all that power into one of their displacers, then whatever it is they send back in time must either be massive as hell, or else go back a lot of years, or both.”
“Buy why send anything at all?” demanded Rojas, clearly perplexed. “Building this installation out here, sixty-three light-years from Earth, must have been a supreme effort for them. Why should they make such an effort to go back into the past of this godforsaken, lifeless, historyless ball of sand?”
“Well,” Jason deadpanned, “at least they don’t have to worry about the Observer Effect.” Rojas’ expression told him this was not the time for levity. He turned to Tomori. “Your sensors were going throughout our approach to this planet, right? Can you go back over the readings, visual and otherwise, and see if there’s anything here besides that base?”
“Certainly. I’ll just tell the computer what sort of things to look for.” Her manipulations didn’t take long, and the computer scan was even briefer. “No,” she stated unhesitatingly. “Aside from the base, this planet is exactly what you would expect it to be. There’s not another artifact on it.”
“So,” said Chantal, “they’re not doing—or, I should say, haven’t done—anything on this planet in the past that has left any traces in the present.”
For a moment they all reverted to silence in the face of the unfathomable.
“Can you zoom in closer?” Jason finally asked Tomori. “I want a closer look at that displacer.”
“Yes. We still have a while before our orbit carries us around to the other side of the planet.” The base expanded still further, and Jason studied the vast circular displacer stage, as he decided he must continue to think of it even though, unlike the Authority’s Australian facility, it wasn’t covered by a dome. Such a dome would have been a colossal feat of engineering for an expanse this size, and on this planet there wasn’t the same need to shield it from the weather. The control stations surrounding it were, however domed . . . and as Jason watched, tiny antlike figures moved purposefully into those small domes.
“There’s activity around that displacer,” he said in a voice charged with tightly controlled excitement. “Is there any energy buildup from that powerplant?”
“No,” Tomori told him. “The emissions are holding steady.”
Jason and Mondrago met each other’s eyes. Mondrago spoke. “That can only mean—”
All at once, the displacer stage was no longer empty.
There was never any warning of a temporal retrieval, which was why they were always timed according to a rigid schedule. The person or object, its temporal energy potential restored, simply appeared with a slight swirl of displaced air. Only . . . this time the swirl was not slight. Even in this thin atmosphere, a small, brief dust storm blew over the control domes, for the mass that had materialized was that of a spaceship of the same class as the one that they had followed to this system. It rose slightly on grav repulsion and moved off the stage. That was the last thing they saw before their orbit carried them around the limb of the planet.
Chantal broke the silence with a chuckle.
“What, exactly, is funny?” Rojas demanded.
Chantal continued to smile. “There’s an old saying, Major: many a true word is spoken in jest. And I think Commander Thanou may have hit on the truth with his earlier crack about the Observer Effect.”
“Explain.”
“Clearly the Transhumanists are doing something—and of course we still don’t know what—off Earth, and in the past. Suppose the
Similar Books
