Thunderbird (6 page)

“We've seen a few of them go above the clouds, so they don't care if it's a cloudy day. They seem to have only two limitations: They can't get enough energy to battle high winds, and they have to come down to mate and raise their young. We've seen them nesting in trees, and we know they eat some of the plants. And we assume they have to sleep. But we don't know for sure.”

Brad grinned. “I guess mating on the fly would be pretty tricky.” They both laughed. “Michael, do you think any of these animals could operate as pets? Could they blend easily with wildlife on Earth? Except, I guess, that it's colder here. I understand it's winter there now. So it probably doesn't get very cold.”

Michael leaned forward and focused on a place somewhere far from Brad. “They might blend in, but most of them couldn't survive on Earth. The birds with the solar collectors would probably do okay though the spectrum's a bit different. But even they need a certain amount of food. Biologies have some fundamental differences. We're probably going to learn that the basic sugars are the same, but most of the proteins and all of the vitamins are different, as are their requirements for minerals. You and I could eat some of the fruits and grains. But except for the sugars, we wouldn't get much nourishment. The same would be true of any Eden animals brought here. Some of the plants would do fine, though. I'd enjoy bringing back some seeds and setting up a garden.”

“Michael, we've got some calls waiting. We'll go to them in a couple of minutes when we get back from break.” He pressed his fingertips to the earpieces, listened to a commercial for Phil's Jewelry Store begin, checked the time, and removed the headphones. “Brilliant, Michael,” he said.

•   •   •

J
ANET
CALLED
EVERY
morning. “Hello, Brad. Professor Fossel's a great guest. I'd like to ask whether the animals up there reproduce more or less the way we do? The reason I'm asking is that I heard a rumor they have three sexes? Anything to that?”

Fossel had to smother a burst of laughter. “Janet,” he said, “theoretically, the evolutionary costs of having three sexes probably make it impossible to reproduce that way. Imagine that, in order to have sex, you not only have to find one other compatible member of your species, but two—one from each of the other two genders. And you have to find them at the same time. It would make reproduction a bit dicey.

“Which reminds me of another story about two birds and a bee that are out in the jungle when—Well, maybe we better let that one go.”

Brad watched him for a moment, trying to decide whether to encourage him to continue, or move on. Finally: “Michael, do they breathe? Can you imagine an advanced life-form that doesn't need lungs or gills?”

“I'm glad to get an easy question. All the land animals we've seen so far on Eden seem to be breathing. We haven't really had much of a look at the sea creatures. Microscopic life-forms can get oxygen directly, but larger forms need a way to absorb it into the body. If the organism is small enough, it can use spiracles, as some insects do. If its metabolism is slow enough, and its active tissue is spread out into the air, like the trees in the park across the street, then it can get by with stoma in the leaves. Once you get a larger organism, particularly a metabolically active one, you always need a way to pull in oxygen, transport it, and get rid of the carbon dioxide. Eventually, we may see an exception to this rule, but I couldn't tell you what it might look like.”

Another regular caller was on the line. Mark Collins, a retired guy with whom Brad occasionally ate lunch. “I guess people are interested in lungs and gills and stuff like that, but what we really care about is intelligence, Michael. Have you seen anything that's intelligent?”

“Again, it's early in the game. We haven't seen anything we could talk to.”

“So who built the dome? Who was riding in the boat that was buried?”

“We have no idea, Mark. We're going to have to be patient. Whoever built the Cupola is apparently not using it anymore. They may not have used it for thousands of years.”

“But it has power, doesn't it?” said Mark.

“So does the Roundhouse. And that was dug out of the ground. Obviously, there are intelligent aliens in the mix somewhere, but we have no details. Except that it's obvious they're much more advanced than we are.”

The show continued through two hours. Eventually, the question came that Brad knew was inevitable. “Professor Fossel,” the caller said, “we were always led to believe alien life, if it existed, would be radically
different from what we see around us. Yet they look very much like the birds and cats and turtles that inhabit our own world. Some people say this demonstrates a purposeful Creator. Without getting into a religious discussion, what do you think?”

“My specialty is neurology, Caller, not theology. In my opinion we've seen nothing that either implies or rules out a purposeful Creator. From our standpoint, you can take your pick. I have to say, however, we are not surprised by seeing life on Eden resemble what we have here on Earth. But an obvious explanation for that is that Eden resembles Earth. Gravity, atmospheric makeup, water, temperatures. They're all similar. There are only so many ways to make an organism fly or swim, so many ways to build an eye or an ear, to build a skeleton or a musculature. Turtles are a good example. If an organism needs protection, then the shape of the shell won't vary much. It's pretty much defined by the fact that an organism has a head and four limbs. Actually, those are good examples of common forms. Most animals will have a head that shares most of the common features found on Earth: a brain, some sensory inputs, and a mouth. They're necessary to survive.

“The universe imposes certain constraints. It may not share a universal seed of life or a universal Creator, but it shares rules of physics. And that seems to be enough to get the job done.”

The next caller wanted to know whether we were concerned about bringing back a plague?

“It's highly unlikely,” Michael said. “A microbe that emerges from a completely different biological system would almost certainly not be equipped to attack us. We've run some preliminary tests that support that view. The smaller the organism, a virus for example, the more it depends on the host for the equipment it needs to reproduce. Since it's an alien biology, it won't find the right equipment in human cells.”

Brad pointed at the clock. They were running out of time. “Michael, is there anything we failed to ask that we should have?”

His guest shrugged. “Your listeners covered a lot of ground.”

“Is there a lesson we should take away from this? From what we're seeing on Eden?”

“There's one: The biological rules are always the same, but we should expect the unexpected. Physics—the foundation that underlies biology—will rule life everywhere. You can rely on finding convergent evolution, but there will always be surprises. As in the case of six-legged aliens, it's a poor bet, but odd things happen, and we always make assumptions without even being aware we're doing it. Every new living world will probably make us reevaluate, not the physics of the universe but the way biology uses physics to thrive. If we think we understand an alien biology, we're almost certainly missing something.”

Brad leaned over his mike. “Thank you, Michael. That does it for today. This has been
Grand Forks Live
. We'll be back tomorrow at seven. Stay tuned for the
Bill Williams Show
, immediately following the news.” He pulled the headphones off and laid them on the table.

Michael sat back in his chair, eyes closed. “How'd we do?”

“That was good. You might consider a career in radio.”

He grinned. “No, I talk too much.”

“Listen, that was a hell of a show. I envy you.”

“Why's that?”

“You're right in the middle of the most exciting story I've ever heard.”

“Well, that's true. It's been quite an experience. Have they invited you to go?”

“Ummm, more or less. But I've passed. I don't see much use in my being there.”

“But you'd like to do it, right?”

“Sure.” Brad got up and started for the door. “I'm not much of a scientist. I wouldn't be able to contribute anything.”

“But they're sending media people.” Brad looked at his watch, trying to pretend he had to be somewhere else. “I understand you know April.” Michael was standing just inside the door. “She could probably set you up.”

“The media people they've been taking are the major-network types. I don't really qualify.”

“I can't see it would hurt to give it a try.” He finally came out into the corridor. “I'll put in a word for you if you like.”

That sent a chill up Brad's spine. When he'd been eighteen, a neighbor had gotten him a part-time job with a construction company. They were beginning work on a large building, about twelve stories high, in East Grand Forks, across the Red River. He'd reported for work, and they'd sent him up a series of ladders until he was about eight stories high and out on girders. His job was to run around and recover dropped rivets. But just looking down at the street set his head spinning.

He'd quit the next day. For a moment, while his guest was talking, he was looking down at that distant street again. “It's okay, Michael,” he said. “Don't go to any trouble.”

The causes which most disturbed or accelerated the normal progress of society in antiquity were the appearance of great men; in modern times they have been the appearance of great inventions.

—W. E. H. Lecky,
History of European Morals, I
, 1869

W
ALKER
WAS
ENCOURAGED
by what Michael Fossel said. When the show ended, he called April. “Let's take the next step,” he said.

“What did you have in mind, James?”

“We have two functional links at the Eden station that we haven't used. Let's pick one and find out where it goes.”

“Magnificent!” He knew she was raising a fist as she tended to do when she got excited. “All right.” She was trying without much success to keep her voice level. “Just one? You don't want to try both?”

“Let's do one at a time. See where it takes us. Do you want to lead the mission?”

“I can do that.”

“Good. Let's figure on a team of five. Besides you and security. I'll give you the next five names off the list.” The list, of course, had originated in the White House. “I want Adam Sky to go on this one. And probably Paula.”

“Bad idea,” said April.

“What's a bad idea?”

“Sending a
team
. Why don't you let Adam and me make the crossing? Give us a chance to look around a little. So we don't get any surprises.
Then
send the team.”

“April, Adam will go first. If everything's okay, he'll send a message back the way we normally do. If there are dinosaurs or something, we'll just go no farther. Where's the problem?”

“I think it would be safer to know what we're dealing with before we put a crowd together.”

“That would be fine if there weren't a political side to all this. Every big scientific name in the country wants to go through the Roundhouse. They've been applying pressure. On me and on the president.”

“So put them on a backup team. As soon as we're sure where we're headed, they get to go, too. I doubt anybody will have a problem with that.”

“You don't seem to get it, April. Being on the backup team doesn't quite make it with these people. They want to be part of the initial operation. Do you recall who was the
second
person to walk on the Moon?”

“Yeah. Buzz Aldrin.”

“All right. You know that, but most of the rest of us have missed it. Everybody wants what
you're
getting. To be first on a new world. Now, let's drop the debate. It's the way the president wants it, and that's the way we'll go. We also have a couple of astronauts coming in to show everybody how the pressure suits work.” He paused. “What are the Eden links?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do they look like? The icons?”

“One's an octagon. The other's a set of three parallel lines.”

“All right. Which one do we want to use?”

“I hadn't thought about it, James. Flip a coin.”

“Okay. Do the parallel lines.”

“Good enough. May I ask a favor?”

“You may ask.”

“I promised my former boss I'd arrange for him to go along on one of the missions. He's a physicist. Retired now.”

“What's his name?”

“Harvey Keck.”

Walker put the list on his screen. “There's no Harvey Keck here.”

“He doesn't have a political connection anywhere.” It was hard to miss the annoyance in her voice.

Walker could add the name to his security force. But no. This was a chance to demonstrate that the tribe had some influence. “All right. Add him as a sixth participant. He won't fall down and hurt himself, or do anything like that, will he?”

•   •   •

W
ALKER
TOOK
THE
secure phone out of his desk and made the call. Alice Worthington picked up. “Yes, Mr. Chairman?”

“Hello, Alice. Is the president available?”

“He's in a meeting, sir.”

“Can you tell him I called?”

He got back to Walker within the hour. “James,” he said. “What's going on?”

“We're sending a mission out. Through one of the Eden links.”

“Thanks for the heads-up. But I don't think that's a good idea.”

“I thought it was time to take another step forward.”

“James, I wish you wouldn't do this.”

Walker hesitated. He hadn't expected blunt opposition. “If you insist, Mr. President, I'll shut it down.”

“No. God help us, I want to find out what's there as much as you do. But it's unsettling.” Walker could imagine him standing there, his eyes staring but not seeing anything. “Do it,” he said. “Keep me informed.”

•   •   •

C
ALLS
WERE
CONSTANTLY
coming in to Sioux Headquarters from people who wanted to travel out to Eden. They kept Miranda and a couple of
temporary staffers busy. But one of the calls came from David Woqini, who had been Walker's physics teacher his senior year in high school.

The chairman, and probably most of his classmates, had expected the class to be a long, dreary exercise in calculating rates at which objects fell when you threw them off a building. But Mr. Woqini had started that first day by asking a question: “If you walk off the roof of the school, why do you fall?”

Everybody had yelled “Gravity!” and waved hands. The teacher had stopped them cold with the next question: “That's just a word. What
is
gravity? Why don't you just drift off over the trees?”

Nobody had any idea.

“It's because space is made out of rubber. The Earth is big and massive. So it bends space.” They'd started snickering, and a few people laughed. “I'm serious,” he said. “We slide down on the curve.”

Mr. Woqini had other stories like that, explaining how you aged faster waiting for the school bus than you did while actually riding it. And how you weighed less on that same roof than you did in the cafeteria, which was on the ground floor. He was easily the best teacher Walker had ever known through sixteen years of school. They'd stayed connected.

David was retired now, still living on the Rez. “You have time for lunch?” he asked.

•   •   •

T
HEY
MET
WHERE
they usually did, at the Old Main Street Café in Devils Lake. David never seemed to get any older. He was tall and lean, and the amused high-school spirit that had animated his features forty years ago was still there. “Hi, Jim,” he said, removing his buckskin jacket and sitting down as a waitress approached. “I see you've become a prominent national figure. How's your friend the president doing?”

Walker grinned. “I
do
seem to have moved up in the world.”

“Congratulations.” They ordered a round of sandwiches and Diet Cokes.
Then, when they were alone, David leaned across the table. “Have you done any of this transporting thing yourself?”

“Not officially. Did you want to try it?”

“Eventually, maybe. You know, a few weeks ago I'd have sworn this teleportation business wasn't possible. I don't think there's a physicist on the planet who has the remotest idea how you can disassemble somebody and move him clear out of the galaxy.”

“I'm disappointed.”

“Why, Jim?”

“I assumed that, if anybody could figure it out, you could.”

He laughed. “It's a nightmare. We thought we had a handle on cosmic reality. Now we know we aren't even close.”

“It's not my fault,” said Walker.

“Sure it is. It's yours if it's anybody's. Makes me realize I never knew what I was talking about.”

Eventually, the sandwiches showed up. The conversation continued along similar lines until, as they sipped the last of their Cokes, Walker felt the mood change. “What's wrong, David?” he asked.

“Jim, you realize you're in dangerous territory?”

“Yes. I know there are risks.”

“I'm not just talking about the potential for invaders. Or the possibility of an economic collapse, which I'm sure you've thought of. But, as a result of what you find out there, we may experience a total cultural shift.”

“How do you mean?”

“Historically, anytime a technologically advanced culture has connected with a relatively primitive one, a lot of things change. Values, for example. Perception. We could encounter an advanced society that laughs at religion. Or whose individuals have IQs at around two hundred. Or who live for centuries.”

“I understand that could happen.”

“There are probably hazards we haven't even thought of.”

“David, there's a lot to be gained. We can't really walk away from an opportunity like this.”

The waitress came and laid the bill on the table. Each routinely paid his own tab. That was the rule. But David grabbed it. “This one's on me,” he said.

“Why?”

“I don't think I've told you this before, but I'm proud to see what you've done with your life, Jim. I like to think I had a hand in it.”

“You did, David.”

“One more thing? If you can see a way to do it, I recommend you manage things so that we walk away from this. From the Roundhouse.”

•   •   •

T
HE
CHAIRMAN
ARRANGED
to have April's team of five scientists meet in the tribal conference room, along with the astronauts. Keck was also present, as was Adam Sky. The room was located just down the passageway from his office. A brick, single-story structure known as the Blue Building housed the tribal headquarters, as well as the post office, the Indian Health Service, and the Bureau of Indian Affairs. Outside, the flags of the United States and the Mni Wakan Oyate fluttered in a strong wind.

“Welcome aboard, ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “I want to remind you we're going into territory where no human being has ever been before.” He frowned. “Sounds like the opening lines for a television series, doesn't it?” That got some laughs. “Our primary goal is just to take a quick look around and get everyone back alive. If anybody's planning on bringing a weapon, it's okay as long as you're certified for it. But we want you to exercise extreme care. Don't use it unless absolutely necessary. Now let's move on. I'd like to introduce April Cannon.”

April came forward and opened a folder. “Thanks, James. You already know that we're planning on spending about five hours, assuming everything goes well, at our destination. What we want to accomplish is simply
to get a sense of what's on the other side of the link. We'll look around a bit, if we're able to, see if they have life-forms, if it's an Earth-type world, what else is going on. But primarily, we'll be cautious. Nobody is to take any chances. We stay together. The gentleman at the end of the table is Adam Sky.” Adam raised a hand. “He will be heading up the security contingent. Anything he tells us to do, we will comply with.”

She introduced the astronauts, Melissa Sleeman and Art Coleman. Melissa was a gorgeous redhead who turned the heads of every male in the room. Art, on the other hand, displayed a military demeanor, cool and confident, exactly the guy you'd want in the area if you got in trouble.

“My friends call me
Boots
,” he said. “After we've eaten, we'll take a little time to familiarize ourselves with the pressure suits. In case we need them tomorrow.” He reached under a table and produced a helmet. “Later today, we'll move the suits to Eden, where they'll be available. Adam will wear one when he makes the initial jump. He'll determine whether the suits are necessary and come back and let us know. If the atmosphere's okay and there is no other problem, we'll ignore the suits and just go.”

They served lunch, giving everyone time to become acquainted. Nobody raised any issues about Harvey's presence, for which April was grateful. When they'd finished, Walker reminded everybody that they'd be picked up at their hotel the following day at 11:00
A.M.
“We'll take you to the Roundhouse. You'll find Eden a little warmer than Fort Totten. Dress comfortably.”

•   •   •

A
PRIL
SPENT
MUCH
of the afternoon with them. She was not surprised to hear that their lives, like her own, had been taken over by the project.

“I wonder what we'll see out there?”

“I haven't slept for three nights.”

“I don't guess you'd let me go first, April? I know how to use a pressure suit, and I don't think Adam would mind.”

“You know, there's been nothing in my entire life to match this.”

“Why don't we just go over to the Roundhouse now and get started?”

•   •   •

W
ALKER
AND
C
ARLA
joined them for dinner at the Cedar Inn in Devils Lake. He offered a toast and said he was proud to be associated with them.

Arlene McMenamin, a Canadian astronomer seated next to April, asked about the stipulated five-hour duration of the mission. “I assume that has some flexibility,” she said. “If everything's okay, we won't really be rushing to return, will we?”

“Assuming we don't have to wear the pressure suits, yes, we have some flexibility. Though I've promised the chairman that if we go past five hours, one of us will go back to the Roundhouse to let them know what's happening.”

“Let's hope that's the way it plays out,” said Ray Frontera, a mathematician from Shanghai University.

“I hope so, too, Ray,” April said. “James will be waiting to hear what we've found, along with the rest of the planet. Five hours should be enough to tell us what's there. We can play with the details later.”