James P Hogan - Giants 2 - The Gentle Giants Of Ganymede (v1.2)/slide02.htmlprevious | Table of Contents | next

Prologue

Leyel Torres, commander of the scientific observation base nearthe equator on Iscaris III, closed the final page of the reportthat he had been reading and stretched back in his chair with agrateful sigh. He sat for a while, enjoying the feeling ofrelaxation as the seat adjusted itself to accommodate his newposture, and then rose to pour himself a drink from one of theflasks on a tray on the small table behind his desk. The drink wascool and refreshing, and quickly dispelled the fatigue that hadbegun to build up inside him after more than two hours of unbrokenconcentration. Not much longer now, he thought. Two months more andthey should be saying good-bye to this barren ball of parched rockforever and returning to the clean, fresh, infinite star-speckledblackness that lay between here and home.

He cast his eye around the inside of the study of his privatequarters in the conglomeration of domes, observatory buildings andcommunications antennas that had been home for the last two years.He was tired of the same, endless month-in, month-out routine. Theproject was exciting and stimulating it was true, but enough wasenough; going home, as far as he was concerned, couldnt comea day too soon.

He walked slowly over to the side of the room and stared for asecond or two at the blank wall in front of him. Without turninghis head he said aloud: "View panel. See-through mode."

The wall immediately became one-way transparent, presenting himwith a clear view out over the surface of Iscaris III. From theedge of the jumble of constructions and machinery that made up thebase, the dry, uniform reddish-brown crags and boulders stretchedall the way to the distinctly curved skyline where they abruptlycame to an end beneath a curtain of black velvet embroidered withstars. High above, the fiery orb of Iscaris blazed mercilessly, itsreflected rays filling the room with a warm glow of orange and red.As he looked out across the wilderness, a sudden longing welled upinside him for the simple pleasure of walking under a blue sky andbreathing in the forgotten exhilaration of a wind blowing free.Yes, indeeddeparture couldnt come a day too soon.

A voice that seemed to issue from nowhere in particular in theroom interrupted his musings.

"Marvyl Chariso is requesting to be put through, Commander. Hesays its extremely urgent."

"Accept," Torres replied. He turned about to face the large viewscreen that occupied much of the opposite wall. The screen camealive at once to reveal the features of Chariso, a seniorphysicist, speaking from an instrumentation laboratory in theobservatory. His face registered alarm.

"Leyel," Chariso began without preamble. "Can you get down hereright away. Weve got troublereal trouble." His tone ofvoice said the rest. Anything that could arouse Chariso to such astate had to be bad.

"Im on my way," he said, already moving toward thedoor.

Five minutes later Torres arrived in the lab and was greeted bythe physicist, who by this time was looking more worried than ever.Chariso led him to a monitor before a bank of electronic equipmentwhere Galdern Brenzor, another of the scientists, was staringgrim-faced at the curves and data analyses on the computer outputscreens. Brenzor looked up as they approached and noddedgravely.

"Strong emission lines in the photosphere," he said. "Absorptionlines are shifting rapidly toward the violet. Theres no doubtabout it; a major instability is breaking out in the core andits running away."

Torres looked over at Chariso.

"Iscaris is going nova," Chariso explained. "Somethingsgone wrong with the project and the whole stars started toblow up. The photosphere is exploding out into space andpreliminary calculations indicate well be engulfed here inless than twenty hours. We have to evacuate."

Torres stared at him in stunned disbelief. "Thatsimpossible."

The scientist spread his arms wide. "Maybe so, but itsfact. Later we can take as long as you like to figure out where wewent wrong, but right now weve got to get out of here. . .fast!"

Torres stared at the two grim faces while his mind instinctivelytried to reject what it was being told. He gazed past them atanother large wall screen that was presenting a view beingtransmitted from ten million miles away in space. He was looking atone of the three enormous G-beam projectors, cylinders two mileslong and a third of a mile across, that had been built in stellarorbit thirty million miles from Iscaris with their axes preciselyaligned on the center of the star. Behind the silhouette of theprojector Iscariss blazing globe was still normal inappearance, but even as he looked he imagined that he could see itsdisk swelling almost imperceptibly but menacingly outward.

For a moment his mind was swamped by emotionsthe enormityof the task that suddenly confronted them, the hopelessness ofhaving to think rationally under impossible time pressures, thefutility of two years of wasted efforts. And then, as quickly as ithad come, the feeling evaporated and the commander in himreasserted itself.

"ZORAC," he called in a slightly raised voice.

"Commander?" The same voice that had spoken in his studyanswered.

"Contact Garuth on the Shapieron at once. Inform himthat a matter of the gravest urgency has arisen and that it isimperative for all commanding officers of the expedition to conferimmediately. I request that he put out an emergency call to summonthem to link in fifteen minutes from now. Also, sound a generalalert throughout the base and have all personnel stand by to awaitfurther instructions. Ill link in to the conference from themulticonsole in Room 14 of the Main Observatory Dome. Thatsall."

Just over a quarter of an hour later Torres and the twoscientists were facing an array of wall screens that showed theother participants in the conference. Garuth, commander-in-chief ofthe expedition, sat flanked by two aides in the heart of themother-ship Shapieron two thousand miles above IscarisIII. He listened without interruption to the account of thesituation. The chief scientist, speaking from elsewhere in theship, confirmed that in the past few minutes sensors aboard theShapieron had yielded data similar to that reported byinstruments from the surface of Iscaris III, and that the computershad produced the same interpretation. The G-beam projectors hadcaused some unforeseen and catastrophic change in the internalequilibrium of Iscaris, and the star was in the process of turninginto a nova. There was no time to think of anything but escape.

"We have to get everybody off the surface," Garuth said. "Leyel,the first thing I need is a statement of what ships youve gotdown there at the moment, and how many personnel they can bring up.Well send down extra shuttles to ferry out the rest as soonas we know what your shortage in carrying capacity is. Monchar . .." He addressed his deputy on another of the screens. "Do we haveany ships more than fifteen hours out from us at maximumspeed?"

"No, sir. The farthest away is out near Projector Two. It couldmake it back in just over ten."

"Good. Recall them all immediately, emergency priority. If thefigures weve just heard are right, the only way wellstand a chance of getting clear is on the Shapieronsmain drives. Prepare a schedule of expected arrival times and makesure that preparations for reception have been made."

"Yes, sir."

"Leyel. . ." Garuth switched his gaze back to look straight outof the screen in Room 14 of the Observatory Dome. "Bring all youravailable ships up to flight-readiness and begin planning yourevacuation at once. Report back on status one hour from now. Onebag of personal belongings only per person."

"May I remind you of a problem, sir." The chief engineer of theShapieron, Rogdar Jassilane, added from the drive sectionof the ship.

"What is it, Rog?" Garuths face turned away to look atanother screen.

"We still have a fault on the primary retardation system for themain-drive toroids. If we start up those drives, the only waytheyll ever slow down again is at their own natural rate. Thewhole braking systems been stripped down. We could never putit together again in under twenty hours, let alone trace the faultand fix it."

Garuth thought for a moment. "But we can start them upokay?"

"We can," Jassilane confirmed. "But once those black holes startwhirling round inside the toroids, the angular momentumtheyll build up will be phenomenal. Without the retardationsystem to slow them down, theyll take years to coast down toa speed at which the drives can be deactivated. Wed be undermain drive all the time, with no way of shutting down." He made ahelpless gesture. "We could end up anywhere."

"But weve no choice," Garuth pointed out. "Its flyor fry. Well have to set course for home and orbit the SolarSystem under drive until weve dropped to a low enough returnvelocity. What other way is there?"

"I can see what Rogs getting at," the chief scientistinterjected. "Its not quite as simple as that. You see, atthe velocities that we would acquire under years of sustained maindrive, wed experience an enormous relativistic time-dilationcompared to reference frames moving with the speed of Iscaris orSol. Since the Shapieron would be an accelerated system,much more time would pass back home than would pass on board theship; we know where wed end up all right . . . butwe wont be too sure of when."

"And, in fact, it would be worse than just that," Jassilaneadded. "The main drives work by generating a localized space-timedistortion that the ship continuously falls into. Thisalso produces its own time-dilation effect. Hence youd havethe compound effect of both dilations added together. What thatwould mean with an unretarded main drive running for years, Icouldnt tell youI dont think anything like it hasever happened."

"I havent done any precise calculations yet, naturally,"the chief scientist said. "But if my mental estimates are anythingto go by, we could be talking about a compound dilation of theorder of millions."

"Millions?" Garuth looked stunned.

"Yes." The chief scientist looked out at them soberly. "Forevery year that we spend slowing down from the velocity thatwell need to escape the nova, we could find that a millionyears have passed by the time we get home."

Silence persisted for a long time. At last Garuth spoke in avoice that was heavy and solemn. "Be that as it may, to survive wehave no choice. My orders stand. Chief Engineer Jassilane, preparefor deep-space and bring the main drives up to standbyreadiness."

Twenty hours later the Shapieron was under full powerand hurtling toward interstellar space as the first outrushingfront of the nova seared its hull and vaporized behind it thecinder that had once been Iscaris III.

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James P Hogan - Giants 2 - The Gentle Giants Of Ganymede (v1.2)/slide03.htmlprevious | Table of Contents | next

Chapter One

In a space of time less than a single heartbeat in the life ofthe universe, the incredible animal called Man had fallen from thetrees, discovered fire, invented the wheel, learned to fly and goneout to explore the planets.

The history that followed Mans emergence was a turmoil ofactivity, adventure and ceaseless discovery. Nothing like it hadbeen seen through eons of sedate evolution and slowly unfoldingevents that had gone before.

Or so, for a long time, it had been thought.

But when at last Man came to Ganymede, largest of the moons ofJupiter, he stumbled upon a discovery that totally demolished oneof the few beliefs that had survived centuries of his insatiableinquisitiveness: He was not, after all, unique. Twenty-five millionyears before him, another race had surpassed all that he had thusfar achieved.

The fourth manned mission to Jupiter, early in the third decadeof the twenty-first century, marked the beginning of intensiveexploration of the outer planets and the establishment of the firstpermanent bases on the Jovian satellites. Instruments in orbitabove Ganymede had detected a large concentration of metal somedistance below the surface of the moons ice crust. From abase specially sited for the purpose, shafts were sunk toinvestigate this anomaly.

The spacecraft that they found there, frozen in its changelesstomb of ice, was huge. From skeletal remains found inside the ship,the scientists of Earth reconstructed a picture of the race ofeight-foot-tall giants that had built it and whose level oftechnology was estimated as having been a century or more ahead ofEarths. They christened the giants the "Ganymeans," tocommemorate the place of the discovery.

The Ganymeans had originated on Minerva, a planet that onceoccupied the position between Mars and Jupiter but which had sincebeen destroyed. The bulk of Minervas mass had gone into aviolently eccentric orbit at the edge of the Solar System to becomePluto, while the remainder of the debris was dispersed byJupiters tidal effects and formed the Asteroid Belt. Variousscientific investigations, including cosmic-ray exposure-tests onmaterial samples recovered from the Asteroid Belt, pinpointed thebreakup of Minerva as having occurred some fifty thousand years inthe pastlong, long after the Ganymeans were known to haveroamed the Solar System.

The discovery of a race of technically advanced beings fromtwenty-five million years back was exciting enough. Even moreexciting, but not really surprising, was the revelation that theGanymeans had visited Earth. The cargo of the spacecraft found onGanymede included a collection of plant and animal specimens thelikes of which no human eye had ever behelda representativecross section of terrestrial life during the late Oligocene andearly Miocene periods. Some of the samples were well preserved incanisters while others had evidently been alive in pens and cagesat the time of the ships mishap.

The seven ships that were to make up the Jupiter Five Missionwere being constructed in Lunar orbit at the time these discoverieswere made. When the mission departed, a team of scientists traveledwith it, eager to delve more deeply into the irresistiblychallenging story of the Ganymeans.

A data manipulation program running in the computer complex ofthe mile-and-a-quarter-long Jupiter Five Mission command ship,orbiting two thousand miles above Ganymede, routed its results tothe message-scheduling processor. The information was beamed downby laser to a transceiver on the surface at Ganymede Main Base, andrelayed northward via a chain of repeater stations. A fewmillionths of a second and seven hundred miles later, the computersat Pithead Base decoded the message destination and routed thesignal to a display screen on the wall of a small conference roomin the Biological Laboratories section. An elaborate pattern of thesymbols used by geneticists to denote the internal structures ofchromosomes appeared on the screen. The five people seated aroundthe table in the narrow confines of the room studied the displayintently.

"There. If you want to go right down to it in detail,thats what it looks like." The speaker was a tall, lean,balding man clad in a white lab coat and wearing a pair ofanachronistic gold-rimmed spectacles. He was standing in front andto one side of the screen, pointing toward it with one hand andclasping his lapel lightly with the other. Professor ChristianDanchekker of the Westwood Biological Institute in Houston, part ofthe UN Space Arms Life Sciences Division, headed the team ofbiologists who had come to Ganymede aboard Jupiter Five tostudy the early terrestrial aninials discovered in the Ganymeanspacecraft. The scientists sitting before him contemplated theimage on the screen. After a while Danchekker summarized once morethe problem they had been debating for the past hour.

"I hope it is obvious to most of you that the expression we arelooking at represents a molecular arrangement characteristic of thestructure of an enzyme. This same strain of enzyme has beenidentified in tissue samples taken from many of the species so farexamined in the labs up in J4. I repeatmany of thespecies . . . many different species . . ." Danchekkerclasped both hands to his lapels and gazed at his miniaudienceexpectantly. His voice fell almost to a whisper. "And yet nothingresembling it or suggestive of being in any way related to it hasever been identified in any of todays terrestrial animalspecies. The problem we are faced with, gentlemen, is simply toexplain these curious facts."

Paul Carpenter, fresh-faced, fair-haired and the youngestpresent, pushed himself back from the table and looked inquiringlyfrom side to side, at the same time turning up his hands. "I guessI dont really see the problem," he confessed candidly. "Thisenzyme existed in animal species from twenty-five million yearsbackright?"

"Youve got it," Sandy Holmes confirmed from across thetable with a slight nod of her head.

"So in twenty-five million years they mutated out of allrecognition. Everything changes over a period of time and itsno different with enzymes. Descendant strains from this one areprobably still around but they dont look the same. . . ." Hecaught the expression on Danchekkers face. "No? . . .Whats the problem?"

The professor sighed a sigh of infinite patience. "Wevebeen through all that, Paul," he said. "At least, I was under theimpression that we had. Let me recapitulate: Enzymology has madetremendous advances over the last few decades. Just about everytype has been classified and catalogued, but never anything likethis one, which is completely different from anything weveever seen."

"I dont want to sound argumentative, but is that reallytrue?" Carpenter protested. "I mean . . . weve seen newadditions to the catalogues even in the last year or two,havent we? There was Schnelder and Grossmann at SoPaulo with the P273B series and its derivatives. . . Braddock inEngland with"

"Ah, but youre missing the whole point," Danchekkerinterrupted. "Those were new strains, true, but they fell neatlyinto the known standard families. They exhibited characteristicsthat place them firmly and definitely within known related groups."He gestured again toward the screen. "That one doesnt.Its completely new. To me it suggests a whole new class ofits owna class that contains just one member. Nothing yetidentified in the metabolism of any form of life as we know it hasever done that before." Danchekker swept his eyes around the smallcircle of faces.

"Every species of animal life that we know belongs to a knownfamily group and has related species and ancestors that we canidentify. At the microscopic level the same thing applies. All ourprevious experiences tell us that even if this enzyme does datefrom twenty-five million years back, we ought to be able torecognize its family characteristics and relate it to known enzymestrains that exist today. However, we cannot. To me this indicatessomething very unusual."

Wolfgang Fichter, one of Danchekkers senior biologists,rubbed his chin and stared dubiously at the screen. "I agree thatit is highly improbable, Chris," he said. "But can you really be sosure that it is impossible? After all, over twenty-five millionyears? . . . Environmental factors may have changed and caused theenzyme to mutate into something unrecognizable. I dont know,some change in diet maybe . . . something like that."

Danchekker shook his head decisively. "No. I say itsimpossible." He raised his hands and proceeded to count points offon his fingers. "Oneeven if it did mutate, wed still beable to identify its basic family architecture in the same way wecan identify the fundamental properties of, say, any vertebrate. Wecant.

"Twoif it occurred only in one species of Oligoceneanimal, then I would be prepared to concede that perhaps the enzymewe see here had mutated and given rise to many strains that we findin the world todayin other words this strain represents anancestral form common to a whole modern family. If such were thecase, then perhaps Id agree that a mutation could haveoccurred that was so severe that the relationship between theancestral strain and its descendants has been obscured. But that isnot the case. This same enzyme is found in many different andnonrelated Oligocene species. For your suggestion to apply, thesame improbable process would have had to occur many times over,independently, and all at the same time. I say thatsimpossible."

"But. . ." Carpenter began, but Danchekker pressed on.

"Threenone of todays animals possesses such anenzyme in its microchemistry yet they all manage perfectly wellwithout it. Many of them are direct descendants of Oligocene typesfrom the Ganymean ship. Now some of those chains of descent haveinvolved rapid mutation and adaptation to meet changing diets andenvironments while others have not. In several cases the evolutionfrom Oligocene ancestors to todays forms has been very slowand has produced only a small degree of change. We have madedetailed comparisons between the microchemical processes of suchancestral Oligocene ancestors recovered from the ship and knowndata relating to animals that exist today and are descended fromthose same ancestors. The results have been very much as weexpectedno great changes and clearly identifiablerelationships between one group and the other. Every function thatappeared in the microchemistry of the ancestor could be easilyrecognized, sometimes with slight modifications, in thedescendants." Danchekker shot a quick glance at Fichter."Twenty-five million years isnt really so long on anevolutionary time scale."

When no one seemed ready to object, Danchekker forged ahead."But in every case there was one exceptionthis enzyme.Everything tells us that if this enzyme were present in theancestor, then it, or something very like it, should be readilyobservable in the descendants. Yet in every case the results havebeen negative. I say that cannot happen, and yet it hashappened."

A brief silence descended while the group digestedDanchekkers words. At length Sandy Holmes ventured a thought."Couldnt it still be a radical mutation, but the other wayaround?"

Danchekker frowned at her.

"How do you mean, the other way around?" asked Henri Rousson,another senior biologist, seated next to Carpenter.

"Well," she replied, "all the animals on the ship had been toMinerva, hadnt they? Most likely they were born there fromancestors the Ganymeans had transported from Earth. Couldntsomething in the Minervan environment have caused a mutation thatresulted in this enzyme? At least that would explain why none oftodays terrestrial animals have it. Theyve never beento Minerva and neither have any of the ancestors theyvedescended from."

"Same problem," Fichter muttered, shaking his head.

"What problem?" she asked.

"The fact that the same enzyme was found in manydifferent and nonrelated Oligocene species," Danchekker said. "Yes,Ill grant that differences in the Minervan environment couldmutate some strain of enzyme brought in from Earth into somethinglike that." He pointed at the screen again. "But many differentspecies were brought in from Earthdifferent species each withits own characteristic metabolism and particular groups of enzymestrains. Now suppose that something in the Minervan environmentcaused those enzymesdifferent enzymestomutate. Are you seriously suggesting that they would allmutate independently into the same end-product?" He waitedfor a second. "Because that is exactly the situation that confrontsus. The Ganymean ship contained many preserved specimens ofdifferent species, but every one of those species possessedprecisely the same enzyme. Now do you want to reconsideryour suggestion?"

The woman looked helplessly at the table for a second, then madea gesture of resignation. "Okay. . . If you put it like that, Iguess it doesnt make sense."

"Thank you," Danchekker acknowledged stonily.

Henri Rousson leaned forward and poured himself a glass of waterfrom the pitcher standing in the center of the table. He took along drink while the others continued to stare thoughtfully throughthe walls or at the ceiling.

"Lets go back to basics for a second and see if that getsus anywhere," he said. We know that the Ganymeans evolved onMinervaright?" The heads around him nodded in assent. "Wealso know that the Ganymeans must have visited Earth becausetheres no other way they could have ended up with terrestrialanimals on board their shipunless were going to inventanother hypothetical alien race and Im sure not going to dothat because theres no reason to. Also, we know that the shipfound here on Ganymede had come to Ganymede from Minerva, notdirectly from Earth. If the ship came from Minerva, the terrestrialanimals must have come from Minerva too. That supports the ideaweve already got that the Ganymeans were shipping all kindsof life forms from Earth to Minerva for some reason."

Paul Carpenter held up a hand. "Hang on a second. How do we knowthat the ship downstairs came here from Minerva?"

"The plants," Fichter reminded him.

"Oh yeah, the plants. I forgot. . ." Carpenter subsided intosilence.

The pens and animal cages in the Ganymean ship had containedvegetable feed and floor-covering materials that had remainedperfectly preserved under the ice coating formed when theships atmosphere froze and the moisture condensed out. Usingseeds recovered from this material, Danchekker had succeeded incultivating live plants completely different from anything that hadever grown on Earth, presumed to be examples of native Minervanbotany. The leaves were very darkalmost blackandabsorbed every available scrap of sunlight, right across thevisible spectrum. This seemed to tie in nicely with independentlyobtained evidence of Minervas great distance from theSun.

"How far," Rousson asked, "have we got in figuring outwhy the Ganymeans were shipping all the animals in?" Hespread his arms wide. "There had to be a reason. How far are wegetting on that one? I dont know, but the enzyme might havesomething to do with it."

"Very well, lets recapitulate briefly what we think wealready know about the subject," Danchekker suggested. He movedaway from the screen and perched on the edge of the table. "Paul.Would you like to tell us your answer to Henris question."Carpenter scratched the back of his head for a second and screwedup his face.

"Well . . ." he began, "first theres the fish.Theyre established as being native Minervan and give us ourlink between Minerva and the Ganymeans."

"Good," Danchekker nodded, mellowing somewhat from his earliercrotchety mood. "Go on."

Carpenter was referring to a type of well-preserved canned fishthat had been positively traced back to its origin in the oceans ofMinerva. Danchekker had shown that the skeletons of the fishcorrelated in general arrangement to the skeletal remains of theGanymean occupants of the ship that lay under the ice deep belowPithead Base; the relationship was comparable to that existingbetween the architectures of, say, a man and a mammoth, anddemonstrated that the fish and the Ganymeans belonged to the sameevolutionary family. Thus if the fish were native to Minerva, theGanymeans were, too.

"Your computer analysis of the fundamental cell chemistry of thefish," Carpenter continued, "suggests an inherent low tolerance toa group of toxins that includes carbon dioxide. I think you alsopostulated that this basic chemistry could have been inherited fromway back in the ancestral line of the fishright from veryearly on in Minervan history."

"Quite so," Danchekker approved. "What else?"

Carpenter hesitated. "So Minervan land-dwelling species wouldhave had a low CO2 tolerance as well," he offered.

"Not quite," Danchekker answered. "Youve left out theconnecting link to that conclusion. Anybody. . . ?" Helooked at the German. "Wolfgang?"

"You need to make the assumption that the characteristics of lowCO2 tolerance came about in a very remoteancestorone that existed before any land-dwelling typesappeared on Minerva." Fichter paused, then continued. "Then you canpostulate that this remote life form was a common ancestor to alllater land dwellers and marine descendantsfor example, thefish. On the basis of that assumption you can say that thecharacteristic could have been inherited by all the land-dwellingspecies that emerged later."

"Never forget your assumptions," Danchekker urged. "Many of theproblems in the history of science have stemmed from that simpleerror. Note one other thing too: If thelow-C02-tolerance characteristic did indeed come aboutvery early in the process of Minervan evolution and survived rightdown to the time that the fish was alive, then suggestions are thatit was a very stable characteristic, if our knowledge ofterrestrial evolution is anything to go by anyway. This addsplausibility to the suggestion that it could have become a commoncharacteristic that spread throughout all the land dwellers as theyevolved and diverged, and has remained essentially unaltered downthrough the agesmuch as the basic design of terrestrialvertebrates has remained unchanged for hundreds of millions ofyears despite superficial differences in shape, size and form."Danchekker removed his spectacles and began polishing the lenseswith his handkerchief.

"Very well," he said. "Let us pursue the assumption and concludethat by the time the Ganymeans had evolvedtwenty-five millionyears agothe land surface of Minerva was populated by amultitude of its own native life forms, each of which possessed alow tolerance to carbon dioxide, among other things. What otherclues do we have available to us that might help determine what washappening on Minerva at that time?"

"We know that the Ganymeans were quitting the planet and tryingto migrate someplace else," Sandy Holmes threw in. "Probably tosome other star system."

"Oh, really?" Danchekker smiled, showing his teeth brieflybefore breathing on his spectacle lenses once more. "How do we knowthat?"

"Well, theres the ship down under the ice here for astart," she replied. "The kind of freight it was carrying and theamount of it sure suggested a colony ship intending a one-way trip.And then, why should it show up on Ganymede of all places?It couldnt have been traveling between any of the innerplanets, could it?"

"But theres nothing outside Minervas orbit tocolonize," Carpenter chipped in. "Not until you get to the stars,that is."

"Exactly so," Danchekker said soberly, directing his words atthe woman. "You said suggested a colony ship.Dont forget that that is precisely what the evidence we haveat present amounts toa suggestion and nothing more. Itdoesnt prove anything. Lots of people around thebase are saying we now know that the Ganymeans abandoned the SolarSystem to find a new home elsewhere because the carbon-dioxideconcentration in the Minervan atmosphere was increasing for somereason which we have yet to determine. It is true that if what wehave just said was fact, then the Ganymeans would have shared thelow tolerance possessed by all land dwellers there, and anyincrease in the atmospheric concentration could have caused themserious problems. But as we have just seen, we knownothing of the kind; we merely observe one or two suggestions thatmight add up to such an explanation." The professor paused, seeingthat Carpenter was about to say something.

"There was more to it than that though, wasnt there?"Carpenter queried. "Were pretty certain that all species ofMinervan land dwellers died out pretty rapidly somewhere aroundtwenty-five million years ago . . . all except the Ganymeansthemselves maybe. That sounds like just the effect youdexpect if the concentration did rise and all the species therecouldnt handle it. It seems to support the hypothesis prettywell."

"I think Pauls got a point," Sandy Holmes chimed in."Everything adds up. Also, it fits in with the ideas wevebeen having about why the Ganymeans were shipping all the animalsinto Minerva." She turned toward Carpenter, as if inviting him tocomplete the story from there.

As usual, Carpenter didnt need much encouragement. "Whatthe Ganymeans were really trying to do was redress theCO2 imbalance by covering the planet withcarbon-dioxide-absorbing, oxygen-producing terrestrial greenplants. The animals were brought along to provide a balancedecology that the plants could survive in. Like Sandy says, it allfits."

"Youre trying to fit the evidence to suit the answers thatyou already want to prove," Danchekker cautioned. "Letsseparate once more the evidence that is fact from the evidencewhich is supposition or mere suggestion." The discussion continuedwith Danchekker leading an examination of the principles ofscientific deduction and the techniques of logical analysis.Throughout, the figure who had been following the proceedingssilently from his seat at the end of the table farthest from thescreen continued to draw leisurely on his cigarette, taking inevery detail.

Dr. Victor Hunt had also accompanied the team of scientists whohad come with Jupiter Five more than three months beforeto study the Ganymean ship. Although nothing truly spectacular hademerged during this time, huge volumes of data on the structure,design and contents of the alien ship had been amassed. Every day,newly removed devices and machinery were examined in thelaboratories of the surface bases and in the orbiting J4and J5 mission command ships. Findings from these testswere as yet fragmentary, but clues were beginning to emerge fromwhich a meaningful picture of the Ganymean civilization and themysterious events of twenty-five million years before mighteventually emerge.

That was Hunts job. Originally a theoretical physicistspecializing in mathematical nucleonics, he had been brought intothe UN Space Arm from England to head a small group of UNSAscientists; the groups task was to correlate the findings ofthe specialists working on the project both on and around Ganymedeand back on Earth. The specialists painted the pieces of thepuzzle; Hunts group fitted them together. This arrangementwas devised by Hunts immediate boss, Gregg Caldwell,executive director of the Navigation and Communications Division ofUNSA, headquartered in Houston. The scheme had already worked wellin enabling them to unravel successfully the existence and fate ofMinerva, and first signs were that it promised to work wellagain.

He listened while the debate between the biologists went fullcircle to end up focusing on the unfamiliar enzyme that had startedthe whole thing off.

"No, Im afraid not," Danchekker said in reply to aquestion from Rousson. "We have no idea at present what its purposewas. Certain functions in its reaction equations suggest that itcould have contributed to the modification or breaking down of somekind of protein molecule, but precisely what molecule or for whatpurpose we dont know." Danchekker gazed around the room toinvite further comment but nobody appeared to have anything to say.The room became quiet. A mild hum from a nearby generator becamenoticeable for the first time. At length Hunt stubbed his cigaretteand sat back to rest his elbows on the arms of his chair. "Soundsas if theres a problem there, all right," he commented."Enzymes arent my line. Im going to have to leave thisone completely to you people."

"Ah, nice to see youre still with us, Vic,"Danchekker said, raising his eyes to take in the far end of thetable. "You havent said a word since we sat down."

"Listening and learning." Hunt grinned. "Didnt have a lotto contribute."

"That sounds like a philosophical approach to life," Fichtersaid, shuffling the papers in front of him. "Do you have manyphilosophies of life. . . maybe a little red book full of them likethat Chinese gentleman back in nineteen whatever it was?"

"Fraid not. Doesnt do to have too many philosophiesabout anything. You always end up contradicting yourself. Blowsyour credibility."

Fichter smiled. "Youve nothing to say to throw any lighton our problem with this wretched enzyme then," he said.

Hunt did not reply immediately but pursed his lips and inclinedhis head to one side in the manner of somebody with doubts aboutthe advisability of revealing something that he knew. "Well," hefinally said, "youve got enough to worry about with thatenzyme as things are." The tone was mildly playful, butirresistibly provocative. All heads in the room swung aroundabruptly to face in his direction.

"Vic, youre holding out on us," Sandy declared."Give."

Danchekker fixed Hunt with a silent, challenging stare. Huntnodded and reached down with one hand to operate the keyboardrecessed into the edge of the table opposite his chair. Above thefar side of Ganymede, computers on board Jupiter Fiveresponded to his request. The display on the conference room wallchanged to reveal a densely packed columnar arrangement ofnumbers.

Hunt allowed some time for the others to study them. "These arethe results of a series of quantitative analytical tests that wereperformed recently in the J5 labs. The tests involved theroutine determination of the chemical constituents of cells fromselected organs in the animals youve just been talkingaboutthe ones from the ship." He paused for a second, thencontinued matter-of-factly. "These numbers show that certaincombinations of elements turned up over and over again, always inthe same fixed ratios. The ratios strongly suggest the decayproducts of familiar radioactive processes. Its exactly as ifradioisotopes were selected in the manufacture of the enzymes."

After a few seconds, one or two puzzled frowns formed inresponse to his words. Danchekker was the first to reply. "Are youtelling us that the enzyme incorporated radioisotopes into itsstructure. . . selectively?" he asked.

"Exactly."

"Thats ridiculous," the professor declared firmly. Histone left no room for dissent. Hunt shrugged.

"It appears to be fact. Look at the numbers."

"But there is no way in which such a process could come about,"Danchekker insisted.

"I know, but it did."

"Purely chemical processes cannot distinguish a radioisotopefrom a normal isotope," Danchekker pointed out impatiently."Enzymes are manufactured by chemical processes. Such processes areincapable of selecting radioisotopes to use for the manufacture ofenzymes." Hunt had half expected that Danchekkers immediatereaction would be one of uncompromising and total rejection of thesuggestion he had just made. After working closely with Danchekkerfor over two years, Hunt had grown used to the professorstendency to sandbag himself instinctively behind orthodoxpronouncements the moment anything alien to his beliefs reared itshead. Once hed been given time to reflect, Hunt knew,Danchekker could be as innovative as any of the younger generationof scientists seated around the room. For the moment, then, Huntremained silent, whistling tunelessly and nonchalantly to himselfas he drummed his fingers absently on the table.

Danchekker waited, growing visibly more irritable as the secondsdragged by. "Chemical processes cannot distinguish a radioisotope,"he finally repeated. "Therefore no enzyme could be produced in theway you say it was. And even if it could, there would be no purposeto be served. Chemically the enzyme will behave the same whether ithas radioisotopes in it or not. What youre saying ispreposterous!"

Hunt sighed and pointed a weary finger toward the screen.

"Im not saying it, Chris," he reminded the professor. "Thenumbers are. There are the factscheck em." Hunt leanedforward and cocked his head to one side, at the same timecontorting his features into a frown as if he had just been struckwith a sudden thought. "What were you saying a minute agoabout people wanting to fit the evidence to suit the answerstheyd already made their minds up about?" he asked.

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James P Hogan - Giants 2 - The Gentle Giants Of Ganymede (v1.2)/slide04.htmlprevious | Table of Contents | next

Chapter Two

At the age of eleven, Victor Hunt had moved from the bedlam ofhis family home in the East End of London and gone to live with anuncle and aunt in Worcester. His unclethe odd man out in theHunt familywas a design engineer at the nearby laboratoriesof a leading computer manufacturer and it was his patient guidancethat first opened the boys eyes to the excitement and mysteryof the world of electronics.

Some time later young Victor put his newfound fascination withthe laws of formal logic and the techniques of logic-circuit designto its first practical test. He designed and built a hard-wiredspecial-purpose processor which, when given any date after theadoption of the Gregorian calendar in 1582, would output a numberfrom 1 to 7 denoting the day of the week on which it had fallen.When, breathless with expectation, he switched it on for the firsttime, the system remained dead. It turned out that he had connectedan electrolytic capacitor the wrong way around and shorted out thepower supply.

This exercise taught him two things: Most problems have simplesolutions once somebody looks at things the right way, and theexhilaration of winning in the end makes all the effort worthwhile.It also served to reinforce his intuitive understanding that theonly sure way to prove or disprove what looked like a good idea wasto find some way to test it. As his subsequent career led him fromelectronics to mathematical physics and thence to nucleonics, thesefundamentals became the foundations of his permanent mental makeup.In nearly thirty years he had never lost his addiction to the finalminutes of mounting suspense that came when the crucial experimenthad been prepared and the moment of truth was approaching.

He experienced that same feeling now, as he watched VincentCarizan make a few last-minute adjustments to the power-amplifiersettings. The attraction in the main electronics lab at PitheadBase that morning was an item of equipment recovered from theGanymean ship. It was roughly cylindrical, about the size of an oildrum, and appeared to be rather simple in function in that itpossessed few input and output connections; apparently it was aself-contained device of some sort, rather than a component in somelarger and more complex system.

However, its function was far from obvious. The engineers atPithead had concluded that the connections were intended as powerinlet points. From an analysis of the insulating materials used,the voltage clamping and protection circuits, the smoothingcircuits, and the filtering arrangements, they had deduced the kindof electrical supply it was designed to work from. This had enabledthem to set up a suitable arrangement of transformers and frequencyconverters. Today was the day they intended to switch it on to seewhat happened.

Besides Hunt and Carizan, two other engineers were present inthe laboratory to supervise the measuring instruments that had beenassembled for the experiment. Frank Towers observed Canzansnod of satisfaction as he stepped back from the amplifier panel andasked:

"All set for overload check?"

"Yep," Carizan answered. "Give it a zap." Towers threw a switchon another panel. A sharp clunk sounded instantly as acircuit breaker dropped out somewhere in the equipment cabinetbehind the panel.

Sam Mullen, standing by an instrumentation console to one sideof the room, briefly consulted one of his readout screens. "Currenttrips functioning okay," he announced.

"Unshort it and throw in some volts," Carizan said to Towers,who changed a couple of control settings, threw the switch againand looked over at Mullen.

"Limiting at fifty," Mullen said. "Check?"

"Check," Towers returned.

Carizan looked at Hunt. "All set to go, Vic. Well try aninitial run with current limiters in circuit, but whatever happensour stuffs protected. Last chance to change your bet; thebooks closing."

"I still say it makes music." Hunt grinned. "Its anelectric barrel organ. Give it some juice."

"Computers?" Carizan cocked an eye at Mullen.

"Running. All data channels checking normal."

"Okay then." Carizan rubbed the palms of his hands together."Now for the star turn. Live this time, Frankphase one of theschedule."

A tense silence descended as Towers reset his controls and threwthe main switch again. The readings on the numeric displays builtinto his panel changed immediately.

"Live," he confirmed. "Its taking power. Current is up tothe maximum set on the limiters. Looks like it wants more." Alleyes turned toward Mullen, who was scanning the computer outputscreens intently. He shook his head without looking around.

"Nix. Makes a dodo look a real ball of fire."

The accelerometers, fixed to the outside of the Ganymean devicestanding bolted in its steel restraining frame on rubber vibrationabsorbers, were not sensing any internal mechanical motion. Thesensitive microphones attached to its casing were picking upnothing in the audible or ultrasonic ranges. The heat sensors,radiation detectors, electromagnetic probes, gaussmeters,scintillation counters, and variable antennasall had nothingto report. Towers varied the supply frequency over a trial rangebut it soon became apparent that nothing was going to change. Huntwalked over to stand beside Mullen and inspect the computeroutputs, but said nothing.

"Looks like we need to wind the wick up a little," Carizancommented. "Phase two, Frank." Towers stepped up the input voltage.A row of numbers appeared on one of Mullens screens.

"Something on channel seven," he informed them. "Acoustic." Hekeyed a short sequence of commands into the console keyboard andpeered at the wave form that appeared on an auxiliary display."Periodic wave with severe even-harmonic distortion, low amplitude. . . fundamental frequency is about seventy-two hertz."

"Thats the supply frequency," Hunt murmured. "Probablyjust a resonance somewhere. Shouldnt think it means much.Anything else?"

"Nope."

"Wind it up again, Frank," Carizan said.

As the test progressed they became more cautious and increasedthe number of variations tried at each step. Eventually thecharacteristics of the input supply told them that the device wassaturating and seemed to be running at its design levels. By thistime it was taking a considerable amount of power but apart fromreporting continued mild acoustic resonances and a slight heatingof some parts of the casing, the measuring instruments remainedobstinately quiet. As the first hour passed, Hunt and the threeUNSA engineers resigned themselves to a longer and much moredetailed examination of the object, one that would no doubt involvedismantling it. But, like Napoleon, they took the view that luckypeople tend to be people who give luck a chance to happen; it hadbeen worth a try.

The disturbance generated by the Ganymean device was, however,not of a nature that any of their instruments had been designed todetect. A series of spherical wave fronts of intense but highlylocalized space-time distortion expanded outward from Pithead Baseat the speed of light, propagating across the Solar System.

Seven hundred miles to the south, seismic monitors at GanymedeMain Base went wild and the data validation programs running in thelogging computer aborted to signal a system malfunction.

Two thousand miles above the surface, sensors aboard theJupiter Five command ship pinpointed Pithead Base as theorigin of abnormal readings and flashed an alert to the dutysupervisor.

Over half an hour had passed since full power had been appliedto the device in the laboratory at Pithead. Hunt stubbed out acigarette as Towers finally shut down the supply and sat back inhis seat with a sigh.

"Thats about it," Towers said. "Were not gonna getanyplace this way. Looks like well have to open it upfurther."

"Ten bucks," Carizan declared. "See, Vicno tunes."

"Nothing else, either," Hunt retorted. "The betsvoid."

At the instrumentation console Mullen completed the storageroutine for the file of meager data that had been collected, shutdown the computers and joined the others.

"I dont understand where all that power was going," hesaid, frowning. "There wasnt nearly enough heat to accountfor it, and no signs of anything else. Its crazy."

"There must be a black hole in there," Carizan offered."Thats what the thing isa garbage can. Its theultimate garbage can."

"Ill take ten on that," Hunt informed him readily.

Three hundred and fifty million miles from Ganymede, in theAsteroid Belt, a UNSA robot probe detected a rapid succession oftransient gravitational anomalies, causing its master computer tosuspend all system programs and initiate a full run of diagnosticand fault-test routines.

"No kiddingstraight out of Walt Disney," Hunt told theothers across the table in one corner of the communal canteen atPit-head. "Ive never seen anything like the animal muralsdecorating the walls of that room in the Ganymean spacecraft."

"Sounds crazy," Sam Mullen declared from opposite Hunt.

"What dyou think they areMinervans or somethingelse?"

"Theyre not terrestrial, thats for sure," Huntreplied. "But maybe theyre not anything. . . anything realthat is. Chris Danchekkers convinced they cant bereal."

"How dyou mean, real?" Carizan asked.

"Well, they dont look real," Hunt answered. Hefrowned and waved his hands in small circles in the air."Theyre all kinds of bright colors . . . and clumsy . . .ungainly. You cant imagine them evolving from any real-lifeevolutionary system"

"Not selected for survival, you mean?" Carizan suggested. Huntnodded rapidly.

"Yes, thats it. No adaptation for survival . . . nocamouflage or ability to escape or anything like that."

"Mmm. . ." Carizan looked intrigued, but nonplussed. "Anyideas?"

"Well, actually yes," Hunt said. "Were pretty sure theroom was a Ganymean childrens nursery or something similar.That probably explains it. They werent supposed to be real,just Ganymean cartoon characters." Hunt paused for a second, thenlaughed to himself. "Danchekker wondered if theyd named anyof them Neptune." The other two looked at him quizzically. "Hereasoned that they couldnt have had a Pluto because therewasnt a Pluto then," Hunt explained. "So maybe they had aNeptune instead."

"Neptune!" Carizan guffawed and brought his hand down sharply onthe table. "I like it. . . . Wouldnt have thought Danchekkercould crack a joke like that."

"Youd be surprised," Hunt told him. "He can be quite acharacter once you get to know him. Hes just a bit stuffy atfirst, thats all. . . . But you should see them. Illbring some prints over. One was bright blue with pink stripes downthe sidesbody like an overgrown pig. And it had a trunk!"

Mullen grimaced and covered his eyes.

"Man . . . The thoughts enough to put me off drink forkeeps." He turned his head and looked toward the serving counter."Where the hells Frank?" As if in answer to the question,Towers appeared behind him carrying a tray with four cups ofcoffee. He set the tray down, squeezed into a seat and proceeded topass the drinks round.

"Two white with, a white without, and a black with. Okay?" Hesettled himself back and accepted a cigarette from Hunt. "Cheers.The man over by the counter there says youre leaving for aspell. That right?"

Hunt nodded. "Only five days. Im due for a bit of leave onJ5. Flying up from Main the day after tomorrow."

"On your own?" Mullen asked.

"Notherell be five or six of us. Danchekkerscoming too. Cant say Ill be sorry for a break,either."

"I hope the weather holds out," Towers said with playfulsarcasm. "Itd be too bad if you missed the holiday season.This place makes me wonder what the big attraction ever was atMiami Beach."

"The ice comes with scotch there," Carizan suggested.

A shadow fell across the table. They looked up to greet a burlyfigure sporting a heavy black beard and clad in a tartan shirt andblue jeans. It was Pete Cummings, a structures engineer who hadcome to Ganymede with the team that had included Hunt andDanchekker. He reversed a chair and perched himself astride it,directing his gaze at Carizan.

"Howd it go?" he inquired. Carizan pulled a face and shookhis head.

"No dice. Bit of heat, bit of humming. . . otherwise nothing toshout about. Couldnt get anything out of it."

"Too bad." Cummings made an appropriate display of sympathy. "Itcouldnt have been you guys that caused all the commotionthen."

"What commotion?"

"Didnt you hear?" He looked surprised. "There was amessage beamed down from J5 a little while back.Apparently they picked up some funny waves coming up from thesurface. . . seems that the center was somewhere around here. Thecommanders been calling all around the base trying to findout whos up to what, and what caused it. Theyre allflappin around in the tower up there like theres a foxin the henhouse."

"I bet thats the call that came in just when we wereleaving the lab," Mullen said. "Told you it could have beenimportant."

"Hell, there are times when a man needs coffee," Carizananswered. "Anyhow, it wasnt us." He turned to face Cummings."Sorry, Pete. Ask again some other time. Weve just beendrawing blanks today."

"Well, the whole things mighty queer," Cummings declared,rubbing his beard. "Theyve checked out just about everythingelse."

Hunt was frowning to himself and drawing on his cigarettepensively. He blew out a cloud of smoke and looked up atCummings.

"Any idea what time this was, Pete?" he asked. Cummings screwedup his face.

"Lemme seeaw, under an hour." He turned and called acrossto a group of three men who were sitting at another table: "Hey,Jed. What time did J5 pick up the spooky waves? Anyidea?"

"Ten forty-seven local," Jed called back.

"Ten forty-seven local," Cummings repeated to the table.

An ominous silence descended abruptly on the group seated aroundHunt.

"How about that, fellas?" Towers asked at last. Thematter-of-fact tone did not conceal his amazement.

"It could be a coincidence," Mullen murmured, not soundingconvinced.

Hunt cast his eyes around the circle of faces and read the samethoughts on every one. They had all reached the same conclusion;after a few seconds, he voiced it for them.

"I dont believe in coincidences," he said.

Five hundred million miles away, in the radio and opticalobservatory complex on Lunar Farside, Professor Otto Schneider madehis way to one of the computer graphics rooms in answer to a callfrom his assistant. She pointed out the unprecedented readings thathad been reported by an instrument designed to measure cosmicgravitational radiation, especially that believed to emanate fromthe galactic center. These signals were quite positivelyidentified, but had not come from anywhere near that direction.They originated from somewhere near Jupiter.

Another hour passed on Ganymede. Hunt and the engineers returnedto the lab to reappraise the experiment in light of what Cummingshad told them. They called the base commander, reported thesituation, and agreed to prepare a more intensive test for theGanymean device. Then, while Towers and Mullen reexamined the datacollected earlier, Hunt and Carizan toured the base to beg, borrowor steal some seismic monitoring equipment to add to theirinstruments. Suitable detectors were finally located in one of thewarehouses, where they were kept as spares for a seismic outstationabout three miles from the base, and the team began planning theafternoons activities. By this time their excitement wasmounting rapidly, but even more their curiosity; if, after all, themachine was an emitter of gravity pulses, what purpose did itserve?

One thousand five hundred million miles from Ganymede, not farfrom the mean orbit of Uranus, a communications subprocessorinterrupted the operation of its supervisory computer. The computeractivated a code-conversion routine and passed a top prioritymessage on to the master-system monitor.

A transmission had been received from a standard Model 17 Mark3B Distress Beacon.

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Chapter Three

The surface transporter climbed smoothly above the eternal veilof methane-ammonia haze that cloaked Pithead Base and leveled outonto a southerly course. For nearly two hours it skimmed over anunchanging wilderness of a stormy sea sculptured in ice and halfimmersed in a sullen ocean of mist. Occasional outcrops of rockadded texture to the scene, standing black against the ghostlyradiance induced by the serene glow of Jupiters enormousrainbow disk. And then the cabin view screen showed a tight groupof perhaps half a dozen silver spires jutting skywards from justover the horizon aheadthe huge thermonuclear Vega shuttlesthat stood guard over Ganymede Main Base.

After taking refreshments at Main, Hunts party joinedother groups bound for J5 and boarded one of the Vegas.Soon afterward they were streaking into space and Ganymede rapidlybecame just a smooth, featureless snowball behind them. Ahead, apinpoint of light steadily elongated and enlarged, and thenresolved itself into the awe-inspiring, majestic,mile-and-a-quarter-long Jupiter Five Mission command ship, hangingalone in the void; Jupiter Four had departed the weekbefore, bound for Callisto where it would take up permanent orbit.The computers and docking radars guided the Vega gently to restinside the cavernous forward docking bay, and within minutes thearrivals were walking into the immense city of metal.

Danchekker promptly disappeared to discuss with theJ5s scientists the latest details of their studiesof the terrestrial animal samples from Pithead. Without shame orconscience Hunt spent a glorious twenty-four hours totallyrelaxing, doing nothing. He enjoyed many rounds of drinks andendless yarns with Jupiter Five crew members he had becomefriendly with on the long voyage out from Earth, and foundunbounded pleasure in the almost forgotten sense of freedom thatcame with simply sauntering unencumbered along the seeminglyinterminable expanses of the ships corridors and vast decks.He felt intoxicated with well-beingexuberant. Just being backon Jupiter Five again seemed to bring him nearer to Earthand to things that were familiar. In a sense he was home. Thistiny, manmade world, an island of light and life and warmthdrifting through an infinite ocean of emptiness, was no longer thecold and alien shell that he had boarded high above Luna more thana year ago. It now seemed to him a part of Earth itself.

Hunt spent the second day paying social calls on some ofJ5s scientific personnel, exercising in one of theships lavishly equipped gymnasiums and cooling off afterwardwith a swim. A little while later, enjoying a well-earned beer inone of the bars and debating with himself what to do about dinner,he found himself talking to a medical officer who was snatching aquick refresher after coming off duty. Her name was Shirley. Totheir mutual surprise it turned out that Shirley had studied atCambridge, England, and had rented a flat not two minuteswalk from Hunts own student-day lodgings. Before very longone of those instant friendships that springs up out of nowhere wasbursting into full bloom. They dined together and spent the rest ofthe evening talking and laughing and drinking, and drinking andlaughing and talking. By midnight it had become evident that therewould be no sudden parting of the ways. Next morning he felt betterthan he had for what he was sure was an unhealthily long time.That, he told himself, was surely what medical officers weresupposed to make people feel like.

On the following day he rejoined Danchekker. The results of thetwo years of work that Hunt and Danchekker had spearheaded were bynow a subject of worldwide acclaim, and the names of the twoscientists had been in the limelight as a consequence. The JupiterFive Mission director, Joseph B. Shannon, an Air Force colonelprior to world demilitarization fifteen years earlier, had beeninformed of their presence on the ship and had invited them to joinhim for lunch. Accordingly, halfway through the official day, theyfound themselves sitting at a table in the directors diningroom, savoring the mellow euphoria that comes with cigars andbrandy after the final course and obliging Shannon with theirpersonal accounts of the other sensational discovery that hadrocked the scientific world during those two yearsthediscovery of Charlie and the Lunarians. It ranked in sensationalismwith that of the Ganymeans.

The Ganymeans had turned up later, when the shafts driven downinto the ice below Pithead had penetrated to the Ganymeanspacecraft. Some time before that discovery, exploration of theLunar surface had yielded traces of yet another technologicallyadvanced civilization that had flourished in the Solar System longbefore that of Man. This race was given the name "Lunarians," againto commemorate the place where the first finds had been made, andwas known to have reached its peak some fifty thousand yearsbeforeduring the final cold period of the Pleistocene IceAge. Charlie, a spacesuited corpse found well-preserved beneathdebris and rubble not far from Copernicus, had constituted thefirst find of all and had provided the clues that marked thestarting point from which the story of the Lunarians was eventuallyreconstructed.

The Lunarians had proved to be fully human in every detail. Oncethis fact was established, the problem that presented itself wasthat of explaining where the Lunarians had come from. Either theyhad originated on Earth itself as a till-then unsuspectedcivilization that had emerged prior to the existence of modern Man,or they had originated somewhere else. There were no otherpossibilities open to consideration.

But for a long time both possibilities seemed to be ruled out.If an advanced society had once flourished on Earth, surelycenturies of archaeological excavation should have producedabundant evidence of it. On the other hand, to suppose that theyhad originated elsewhere would require a process of parallelevolutiona violation of the accepted principles of randommutation and natural selection. The Lunarians therefore, beingneither from Earth nor from anywhere else, couldnt exist. Butthey did. The unraveling of this seemingly insoluble mystery hadbrought Hunt and Danchekker together and had occupied them, alongwith hundreds of experts from just about all the worlds majorscientific institutions, for over two years.

"Chris insisted right from the beginning that Charlie, andpresumably all the rest of the Lunarians too, could only havedescended from the same ancestors as we did." Hunt spoke through aswirling tobacco haze while Shannon listened intently. "Ididnt want to argue with him on that, but I couldnt goalong with the conclusion that seemed to go with itthat theymust, therefore, have originated on Earth. There would have to betraces of them around, and there werent."

Danchekker smiled ruefully to himself as he sipped his drink."Yes, indeed," he said. "As I recall, our meetings in those earlydays were characterized by what might be described as, ah, somewhatdirect and acrimonious exchanges."

Shannons eyes twinkled briefly as he pictured the monthsof heated argument and dissent that were implied byDanchekkers careful choice of euphemisms.

"I remember reading about it at the time," he said, nodding."But there were so many different reports flying around and so manyjournalists getting their stories confused, that we never could geta really clear idea of exactly what was going on behind it all.When did you first figure out for sure that the Lunarians came fromMinerva?"

"Thats a long story," Hunt answered. "The whole thing wasan unbelievable mess for a long time. The more we found out, themore everything seemed to contradict itself. Let me see now. . ."He paused and rubbed his chin for a second. "People all over weregetting snippets of information from all kinds of tests on theLunarian remains and relics that started to turn up after Charlie.Then too, there was Charlie himself, his spacesuit, backpack and soon, and all the things with them. . . then the other bits andpieces from around Tycho and places. The clues eventually startedfitting together and out of it all we gradually built up asurprisingly complete picture of Minerva and managed to work outfairly accurately where Minerva must have been."

"I was with UNSA at Galveston when you joined Navcomms," Shannoninformed Hunt. "That part of the story received a lot of coverage.Time did a feature on you called The Sherlock Holmesof Houston. But tell me somethingwhat youve justsaid doesnt seem to sort out the problem; if you managed totrack them down to Minerva, how did that answer the question ofparallel evolution? Im afraid I still dont seethat."

"Quite right," Hunt confirmed. "All it proved was that a planetexisted. It didnt prove that the Lunarians evolved on it. Asyou say, there was still the problem of parallel evolution." Heflicked his cigar at the ashtray and shook his head with a sigh."All kinds of theories were in circulation. Some talked about acivilization from the distant past that had colonized Minerva andhad somehow gotten cut off from home; others said they had evolvedthere from scratch by some kind of convergent process thatwasnt properly understood. . . . Life was becomingcrazy."

"But at that point we encountered an extraordinary piece ofluck," Danchekker came in. "Your colleagues from JupiterFour discovered the Ganymean spaceshiphere, on Ganymede.Once the cargo was identified as terrestrial animals from abouttwenty-five million years ago, an explanation suggested itself thatcould account adequately for the whole situation. The conclusionwas incredible, but it fit."

Shannon nodded vigorously, indicating that this answer hadconfirmed what he had already suspected.

"Yes, it had to be the animals," he said. "Thats what Ithought. Until you established that the ancestors of the Lunarianshad been shipped from Earth to Minerva by the Ganymeans, you had noway of connecting the Lunarians with Minerva. Right?"

"Almost, but not quite," Hunt replied. "Wed alreadymanaged to connect the Lunarians with Minervain other wordswe knew theyd been involved with the planet somehowbutwe couldnt account for how they could have evolvedthere. Youre right, though, in saying that the animals thatthe Ganymeans shipped there long before solved that one in the end.But first we had to connect the Ganymeans with Minerva. At first,you see, all we knew was that one of their ships conked out onGanymede. No way of knowing where it came from."

"Of course. Thats right. There wouldnt have beenanything to indicate that the Ganymeans had anything to do withMinerva, would there? So what finally pointed you in the rightdirection?"

"Another stroke of luck, I must confess," Danchekker said. "Someperfectly preserved fish were found among the food stocks in theremains of a devastated Lunarian base on Luna. We succeeded inproving that the fish were native to Minerva and had been broughtto Luna by the Lunarians. Furthermore, the fish were shown to beanatomically related to Ganymean skeletons. This, of course,implied that the Ganymeans too must have evolved from the sameevolutionary line as the fish. Since the fish were from Minerva,the Ganymeans also had to be from Minerva."

"So that was where the ship must have come from," Hunt pointedout.

"And where the animals must have come from," Danchekkeradded.

"And the only way they could have got there is if the Ganymeanstook them there," Hunt finished.

Shannon reflected on these propositions for a while. "Yes. Isee," he said finally. "It all makes sense. And the rest everybodyknows. Two isolated populations of terrestrial animalsresultedthe one that had always existed on Earth, and the oneestablished on Minerva by the Ganymeans, which included advancedprimates. During the twenty-five million years that followed, theLunarians evolved from them, on Minerva, and thats how theycame to be human in form." Shannon stubbed his cigar, then placedhis hands flat on the table and looked up at the two scientists."And the Ganymeans," he said. "What happened to them? They vanishedcompletely twenty-five million years back. Are you people anywherenear answering that one yet? How about leaking a little bit ofinformation in advance? Im interested."

Danchekker made an empty-handed gesture.

"Believe me, I would like nothing better than to be able tocomply. But honestly, we havent made any great strides inthat direction yet. What you say is correct; not only theGanymeans, but also all the land-dwelling forms of life native toMinerva died out or disappeared in a very short space of time,relatively speaking, at about that time. The imported terrestrialspecies flourished in their place and eventually the Lunariansemerged." The professor showed his palms again. "What happened tothe Ganymeans and why? That remains a mystery. Oh. . . we havetheories, or should I say we can offer possible explanations. Themost popular seems to be that an increase in atmospheric toxins,particularly carbon dioxide, proved lethal to the natives but notto the immigrant types. But to be truthful, the evidence is farfrom conclusive. I was talking to your molecular biologists here onJ5 only yesterday; some of their more recent work makes meless confident in that theory than I was two or three monthsago."

Shannon looked mildly disappointed but accepted the situationphilosophically. Before he could comment further, a whitejacketedsteward approached the table and began collecting the empty coffeecups and dusting away the specks of ash and bread crumbs. As theysat back in their chairs to make room, Shannon looked up at thesteward.

"Good morning, Henry," he said casually. "Is the world treatingyou well today?"

"Oh, mustnt grumble, sir. Ive worked for worse firmsthan UNSA in my time," Henry replied cheerfully. Hunt was intriguedto note his East London accent. "A change always does you good;thats what I always say."

"What did you do before, Henry?" Hunt inquired.

"Cabin steward for an airline."

Henry moved away to begin clearing the adjacent table. Shannoncaught the eyes of the two scientists and inclined his head in thedirection of the steward.

"Amazing man, Henry," he commented, his tone lowered slightly."Did you get to meet him at all on the way out from Earth?" Theother two shook their heads. "Jupiter Fives reigningchess champion."

"Good Lord," Hunt said, following his gaze with a new interest."Really?"

"Learned to play when he was six," Shannon told them. "Hesgot a gift for it. He could probably make a lot of money out of itif he chose to take the game seriously, but he says he preferskeeping it as a hobby. The first navigation officer studies up dayand night just to take the title away from Henry. Between usthough, I think hes going to need an awful lot of luck to doit, and thats supposed to be the one game that luckdoesnt come in to. Right?"

"Precisely," Danchekker affirmed. "Extraordinary."

The mission director glanced at the clock on the dining-roomwall, then spread his arms along the edge of the table in a gestureof finality.

"Well, gentlemen," he said. "Its been a pleasure meetingyou both at last. Thank you for a most interesting conversation. Wemust make a point of keeping in touch regularly from now on. I haveto attend an appointment shortly, but I havent forgotten thatI promised to show you the ships command center. So, ifyoure ready, well go there now. Ill introduce youto Captain Hayter whos to show you around. Then, Imafraid, youll have to excuse me."

Fifteen minutes later, after riding a capsule through one of theships communications tubes to reach another section of thevessel, they were standing surrounded on three sides by abewildering array of consoles, control stations and monitor panelson the bridge; below them stretched the brilliantly lit panorama ofJupiter Fives command center. The clusters ofoperator stations, banks of gleaming equipment cubicles and tiersof instrument panels were the nerve center from which ultimatelyall the activities of the mission and all the functions of the shipwere controlled. The permanent laser link that handled thecommunications traffic to Earth; the data channels to the varioussurface installations and the dispersed fleet of UNSA ships nosingaround the Jovian system; the navigation, propulsion and in-flightcontrol systems; the heating, cooling, lighting, life-supportsystems and ancillary computers and machinery, and a thousand andone other processesall were supervised and coordinated fromthis stupendous concentration of skills and technology.

Captain Ronald Hayter stood behind the two scientists and waitedas they took in the scene below the bridge. The mission wasorganized and its command hierarchy structured in such a way thatoperations were performed under the ultimate direction of theCivilian Branch of the Space Arm; supreme authority lay withShannon. Many functions essential to UNSA operations, such ascrewing spaceships and conducting activities safely and effectivelyin unfamiliar alien environments, called for standards of trainingand discipline that could only be met by a military-style commandstructure and organization. The Uniformed Branch of the Space Armhad been formed in response to these needs; also, not entirelyfortuitously, it went a long way toward satisfying peacefully thelonging for adventure of a significant proportion of the youngergeneration, to whom the idea of large-scale, regular armed forcesbelonged to a past that was best forgotten. Hayter was in commandof all uniformed ranks present aboard J5 and reporteddirectly to Shannon.

"Its quiet at the moment compared to what it can be like,"Hayter commented at last, stepping forward to stand between them."As you can see, a number of sections down there arentmanned; thats because lots of things are shut down or justunder automatic supervision while were parked in orbit. Thisis just a skeleton crew up here too."

"Seems to be some activity over there," Hunt said. He pointeddown at a group of consoles where the operators were busilyscanning viewscreens, tapping intermittently into keyboards andspeaking into microphones and among themselves. "Whats goingon?"

Hayter followed his finger, then nodded. "Were hooked intoa cruiser thats been in orbit over Io for a while now.Theyve been putting a series of probes in low-altitude orbitsover Jupiter itself and the next phase calls for surface landings.The probes are being prepared over Io right now and the operationwill be controlled from the ship there. The guys yourelooking at are simply monitoring the preparation." The captainindicated another section further over to the right. "Thatstraffic control. . . keeping tabs on all the ship movements aroundthe various moons and in between. Theyre always busy."

Danchekker had been peering out over the command center insilence. At last he turned toward Hayter with an expression ofundisguised wonder on his face.

"I must say that I am very impressed," he said. "Very impressedindeed. On several occasions during our outward voyage, Imafraid that I referred to your ship as an infernal contraption; itappears that I am now obliged to eat my words."

"Call it what you like, Professor," Hayter replied with a grin."But its probably the safest contraption ever built. All thevital functions that are controlled from here are fully duplicatedin an emergency command center located in a completely differentpart of the ship. If anything wiped out this place, we could stillget you home okay. If something happened on a large enough scale toknock out both of themwell . . ." he shrugged, "I guess therewouldnt be much of the ship left to get home anyhow."

"Fascinating," Danchekker mused. "But tell me"

"Excuse me, sir." The watch officer interrupted from his stationa few feet behind them. Hayter turned toward him.

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

"I have the radar officer on the screen. Unidentified objectdetected by long-range surveillance. Approaching fast."

"Activate the second officers station and switch itthrough. Ill take it there."

"Aye aye, sir."

"Excuse me," Hayter muttered. He moved over to the empty seat infront of one of the consoles, sat down and flipped its main screeninto life. Hunt and Danchekker took a few paces to bring them ashort distance behind him. Over his shoulder they could see thefeatures of the ships radar officer materialize.

"Something unusual going on, Captain," he said. "Unidentifiedobject closing on Ganymede. Range eighty-two thousand miles; speedfifty miles per second but reducing; bearing two-seven-eight byoh-one-six solar. On a direct-approach course. ETA computed at justover thirty minutes. Strong echoes at quality seven. Readingchecked and confirmed."

Hayter stared back at him for a second. "Do we have any shipsscheduled in that sector?"

"Negative, sir."

"Any deviations from scheduled flight plans?"

"Negative. All ships checked and accounted for."

"Trajectory profile?"

"Inadequate data. Being monitored."

Hayter thought for a moment. "Stay live and continue reporting."Then he turned to the watch officer: "Call the duty bridge crew tostations. Locate the mission director and alert him to stand by fora call to the bridge."

"Yes, sir."

"Radar." Hayter directed his gaze back at the screen on thepanel in front of him. "Slave optical scanners to LRS. Track on UFObearing and copy onto screen three, J5." Hayter paused fora second, then addressed the watch officer again. "Alert trafficcontrol. All launches deferred until further notice. Arrivalsscheduled at J5 within the next sixty minutes are to standoff and await instructions."

"Do you want us to leave?" Hunt asked quietly. Hayter glancedaround at him.

"No, thats okay," he said. "Stick around. Maybeyoull see some action."

"What is it?" Danchekker asked.

"I dont know." Hayters face was serious. "Wevenever had anything like this before."

Tension rose as the minutes ticked by. The duty crew appearedquickly in ones and twos and took up their positions at theconsoles and panels on the bridge. The atmosphere was quiet butcharged with suspense as the well-oiled machine readied itself. . .and waited.

The telescopic image resolved by the optical scanners wasdistinct, but impossible to interpret: circular overall, itappeared to possess four thin protuberances in cruciform, with onepair somewhat long and slightly thicker than the other. It couldhave been a disk, or a spheroid, or perhaps it was something elseseen end-on. There was no way of telling.

Then the first view came in via the laser link to JupiterFour, orbiting Callisto. Because of the relative positions ofGanymede and Callisto, and of the rapidly diminishing range of theintruder, the telescopes on the Jupiter Four obtained anoblique view from a position some distance from its projectedcourse, to Ganymede.

The observers aboard J5 gasped as the picture beingtransmitted from J4 appeared on the screen. Vegas, theonly ships intended for fight through planetary atmospheres, werethe only UNSA vessels in the vicinity that were constructed to astreamlined design; this ship was clearly not a Vega. Thosesweeping lines and delicately curved, gracefully balanced fins hadnot been conceived by any designer of Earth.

Some of the color drained from Hayters face as he staredincredulously at the screen and the full implications of the sightdawned on him. He swallowed hard, then surveyed the astounded facessurrounding him.

"Man all stations on the command floor," he ordered in a voiceapproaching a whisper. "Summon the mission director to the bridgeimmediately."

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Chapter Four

Framed in the large wall display screen on the bridge ofJupiter Five, the alien craft hung in a void against abackground of stars turning almost imperceptibly. It was almost anhour since the new arrival had slowed down to rest relative to thecommand ship and had gone into a parallel orbit over Ganymede. Thetwo ships were standing just over five miles apart and every detailof the craft was now easily discernible. There was little tointerrupt the sleek contours of its hull and fin surfaces and noidentification markings or insignia of any kind. There were,however, several patches of discoloration that might have been theremnants of markings which had been abraded, or perhaps, scorched.In fact the whole appearance of the craft somehow gave theimpression of wear and deterioration suffered in the course of along, hard voyage. Its outer skin was rough and pitted and was fromend to end disfigured by indistinct streaks and blotches, as if thewhole ship had at some time been exposed to severe heat.

Jupiter Five had been the scene of frenzied activityever since the first meaningful pictures came in. There had been noindication so far of whether or not the craft carried a crew or, ifit did, what the intentions of that crew might be. JupiterFive carried no weapons or defensive equipment of any kind;this was one eventuality the mission planners had not consideredseriously.

Every position on the command floor was now manned andthroughout the ship every crew member was at his assigned emergencystation. All bulkheads had been closed and the main drives broughtto a state of standby readiness. Communications with the bases onthe surface of Ganymede and from other UNSA ships in the vicinityhad ceased, in order to avoid revealing their existence and theirlocations. Those daughter ships of J5 capable of beingmade flight-ready within the time available had dispersed into thesurrounding volume of space; a few were under remote control fromJ5, to be used as ramships if necessary. Signals beamed atthe alien craft evoked a response, but J5s computerswere unable to decode it into anything intelligible. Now there wasnothing else to do but wait.

Throughout all the excitement, Hunt and Danchekker had stoodvirtually dumbstruck. They were the only people present on thebridge who were privileged to enjoy a grandstand view of everythingthat happened, without the distraction of defined duties toperform. They were, perhaps, the only ones able to reflect deeplyon the significance of the events that were unfolding.

After the discoveries of first the Lunarians and then theGanymeans, the notion that other races besides Man had evolved toan advanced technological level was firmly accepted. But this wassomething different. Just five miles away from them was not someleftover relic from another age or the hulk of an ancient mishap.There was a functional, working machine that had come from anotherworld. Right at that moment, it was under the control and guidanceof some form of intelligence; it had been maneuvered surely andunhesitatingly to its present orbit and it had responded promptlyto J5s signals. Whether it contained occupants ornot, these events added up to the first-ever interaction betweenmodern Man and an intelligence that was not of his planet. Themoment was unique; however long history might continue to unfold,it could never be repeated.

Shannon stood in the center of the bridge gazing up at the mainscreen. Hayter was standing beside him, running his eye over thedata reports and other images being presented on the row ofauxiliary screens below it. One of them showed a view of GordonStorrel, the deputy mission director, standing by in the emergencycommand center with his own staff of officers. The outgoing signalto Earth was still operating, carrying complete details ofeverything that happened.

"Analyzers have just detected a new component," thecommunications officer called out from his station on one side ofthe bridge. Then he announced a change in the pattern of signalsbeing picked up from the alien craft. "Tight-beam transmissionresembling K-Band radar. PRF twenty-two point three four gigahertz.Unmodulated."

Another minute or so dragged endlessly by. Then, another voice:"New radar contact. Small object has separated from alien ship.Closing on J5. Ship maintaining position."

A wave of alarm, felt rather than sensed directly, swept overthe observers on the bridge. If the object was a missile there waslittle that they could do; the nearest ramship was fifty miles awayand would require half a minute, even under maximum acceleration,to intercept. Captain Hayter did not have time to juggle witharithmetic.

"Fire Ram One and engage," he snapped.

A second later the reply came to confirm. "Ram Onefired. Locked on target."

Beads of perspiration showed on some of the faces staring at thescreens. The main display had not yet resolved the object, but oneof the auxiliary screens displayed a plot of the two large vesselsand a small but unmistakable blip beginning to close the gapbetween them.

"Radar reports steady approach speed of ninety feet persecond."

"Ram One closing. Impact at twenty-five seconds."

Shannon licked his dry lips as he scanned the data on thescreens and digested the flow of reports. Hayter had done the rightthing and placed the safety of his ship above all otherconsiderations. What to do now was a problem that lay solely withthe mission director.

"Thirty miles. Fifteen seconds to impact."

"Object holding course and speed steady."

"Thats no missile," Shannon said in a tone that wasdecisive and final. "Captain, call off the interception."

"Abort Ram One," Hayter ordered.

"Ram One disengaged and turning away."

Long exhalations of breath and sudden relaxing of posturessignaled the release of the tensions that had been building up. TheVega streaking in from deep-space made a shallow turn that took itinto a pass at twenty miles distance and vanished once moreinto the infinite cosmic backdrop.

Hunt turned to Danchekker, talking in a low voice, "You know,Chris, its a funny thing. . . . Ive got an uncle wholives in Africa. He says there are some places where itscustomary to greet strangers by intimidating them with screams andshouts and brandishings of spears. Its the accepted way ofestablishing your status."

"Perhaps they regard that as no more than a sensibleprecaution," Danchekker said drily.

At last the optical cameras distinguished a bright speck in themiddle-distance between J5 and the alien ship. A zoom-inrevealed it to be a smooth, silver disk devoid of any appendages;as before, the view gave no clue of its true shape. It continuedits unhurried pace until it was a half-mile from the command ship;there it came to rest and turned itself broadside-on to present asimple, unadorned egg-shaped profile. It was just over thirty feetlong and appeared to be of entirely metallic construction. After afew seconds it began showing a bright and slowly flashing whitelight.

The consensus arrived at in the debate that followed was thatthe egg was requesting permission to enter the ship. Thecommunication time lag to Earth did not allow immediateconsultation with higher authority. After sending a full reportEarthward via the laser link, Shannon announced his decision togrant the request.

A reception party was hurriedly organized and dispatched to oneof Jupiter Fives docking bays. The docking bay,designed for maintenance work on J5s assorteddaughter vessels, carried a pair of enormous outer doors which werenormally left open, but which could be closed when circumstancesdictated that the bay be filled with air. Access from the main bodyof the ship was gained through a number of smaller ancillaryairlocks positioned at intervals along the inner side of the bay.Clad in spacesuits, the reception party emerged onto one of thevast working platforms in the docking bay and set up a beaconadjusted to flash at the same frequency as that still pulsing onthe egg.

On the bridge of Jupiter Five, an expectant semicircleformed around the screen showing the docking bay. The silver ovoiddrifted into the center of the starry carpet separating the gapingshadows of the outer doors. The egg descended slowly, its light nowextinguished, then hovered some distance above the platform as ifcautiously surveying the situation. A close-up showed that inseveral places on its surface, circular sections of its skin hadrisen above the overall outline, forming a series of squat,retractable turrets which rotated slowly, presumably to scan