Nemesis (47 page)

And Blankowitz quietly raised her eyebrows at Wu in an unspoken: “See-e-e-e-e!”

Jarlow said stiffly, “I have never messed up, as you call it, a programming in my life, but, of course, I’m willing to stand corrected if anyone here feels he is more knowledgeable about atmospheric infrared analysis than I am. It’s not my field of expertise, but I did make careful use of Blanc and Nkrumah on the subject.”

Crile Fisher, who had gained considerable self-confidence since the incident involving Wu’s bid to return home, did not hesitate to insert his views.

“Look,” he said, “this will either be confirmed or denied as we get closer, but why don’t we assume that Dr. Jarlow’s analysis is correct and see where that takes us? If there is oxygen in the atmosphere of this world, might we not assume that it’s been terraformed?”

All eyes turned to look at him.

“Terraformed?” said Jarlow blankly.

“Yes, terraformed. Why not? You have this world that is suitable for life, except that it has the carbon dioxide and nitrogen atmosphere that worlds without life have—like Mars and Venus—and you dump algae into the ocean and pretty soon it’s ‘Good-bye, carbon dioxide,’ and ‘Hello, oxygen.’ Or maybe you do something else. I’m no expert.”

They were still looking at him.

Fisher went on. “The reason I’m suggesting this is that I remember there was talk about terraforming on the farms on Rotor. I worked there. There were even some seminars on terraforming that I attended because I felt it might have something to do with the hyper-assistance program. It didn’t, but at least I heard about terraforming.”

Finally Jarlow said, “In all you heard about terraforming, Fisher, do you by any chance recall anyone saying how long it would take?”

Fisher spread his arms. “You tell me, Dr. Jarlow. It will save time, I’m sure.”

“All right. It took Rotor two years to get here—
if
it got here. That means it’s been here thirteen years. If all of Rotor were solid algae and it was all dumped into the ocean and lived and grew and produced oxygen, then to get to the present level, where I estimate the oxygen content is 18 percent and carbon dioxide is present only in traces, I would imagine it would take some thousands of years. Perhaps hundreds of years—if conditions were enormously favorable. It
certainly
would take more than thirteen years. And, frankly, Earth algae are adapted to Earth conditions quite precisely. On another world, the algae might not grow, or might do so very slowly, till it adapted itself. Thirteen years wouldn’t change a thing.”

Fisher seemed unperturbed. “Ah, but there
is
lots of oxygen there and no carbon dioxide, so if it’s not the result of Rotorian action, what is it the result of? Doesn’t it strike you that we must assume there’s non-Earthly life on this world?”

“It’s what I
did
assume,” said Jarlow.

Wendel said, “It’s what we have to assume immediately. Native vegetation is photosynthesizing. It doesn’t mean, for one moment, that Rotorians are on the world, or that they ever even reached this system.”

Fisher looked annoyed. “Well, Captain,” he said with pointed formality, “I have to say that neither does it mean that Rotorians
aren’t
on the world, or that they
haven’t
reached the system. If the planet has vegetation of its own, it just means that no terraforming was required and the Rotorians could move right in.”

“I don’t know,” said Blankowitz. “I should think there would be no reasonable chance at all that vegetation evolving on a strange planet would be nourishing to human beings. I doubt that human beings could digest it, or that they could assimilate even if they could digest it. I would certainly offer high odds that it would be poisonous. And if there’s plant life, there’s bound to be animal life, and we don’t know what that would entail.”

“Even in that case,” said Fisher, “it’s still possible that the Rotorians would fence off a tract of land, kill the native life within it, and seed plants of their own. I imagine this alien planting—if you want to call it that—would expand with the years.”

“Supposition on supposition,” muttered Wendel.

“In any case,” said Fisher, “it’s completely useless to sit here and make up scenarios, when the logical thing is to explore the world as best we can—and from as close a view as possible. Even from its surface—if that seems feasible.”

And Wu said with surprising force, “I completely agree.”

Blankowitz said, “I’m a biophysicist, and if there’s life on the planet, then whatever else it may have or may not have, we must explore it.”

Wendel looked from one to the other and, reddening slightly, said, “I suppose we must.”

“The closer we get,” said Tessa Wendel, “and the more information we gather, the more confusing it all is. Is there any question that this is apparently a dead world? There is no illumination on the night hemisphere; there are no signs of vegetation or of any form of life.”

“No
gross
signs,” said Wu coolly, “but
something
must be happening to keep oxygen in the air. Not being a chemist, I can’t think of any chemical process that would do the trick. Can anyone?”

He scarcely waited for an answer. “In fact,” he went on, “I seriously question whether a chemist could come up with a chemical explanation. If the oxygen is there, it must be a biological process that produces it. We just don’t know of anything else.”

Wendel said, “If we say that, then we’re judging from our experience with exactly one oxygen-containing atmosphere—Earth’s. Someday we may be laughed at. It may turn out that the Galaxy is littered with oxygen atmospheres that have no connection with life, and we’ll be on record as having been stymied entirely because of our experience with the one planet that is a freak and has a biological source of the oxygen.”

“No,” said Jarlow angrily. “You can’t get out of it that way, Captain. You can picture all sorts of scenarios, but you can’t expect the laws of nature to change for your convenience. If you want to have a nonbiological source of an oxygen-containing atmosphere, you have to suggest a mechanism.”

“But,” said Wendel, “there’s no sign of chlorophyll in the light reflected from the world.”

“Why should there be?” said Jarlow. “The chances are that a somewhat different molecule has been evolved under the selective pressure of light from a red dwarf star. May I make a suggestion?”

“Please do,” said Wendel bitterly. “It seems to me you do nothing else.”

“Very well. All we can actually tell is that the land areas of the world seem to be completely denuded of life. That means nothing. Until four hundred million years ago,
Earth’s land areas were similarly sterile, but the planet had an oxygen atmosphere and abundant life.”

“Sea life.”

“Yes, Captain. There’s nothing wrong with sea life. And that would include algae or the equivalent—microscopic plants that would do perfectly well as oxygen factories. The algae in Earth’s seas produce 80 percent of the oxygen that pours into the atmosphere each year. Doesn’t this explain everything? It explains the oxygen atmosphere and it also explains the apparent lack of land life. It also means we can safely explore the planet by landing on the sterile land surface of the world and studying the sea with what instruments we have—leaving it for a later expedition, suitably equipped, to do the detailed work.”

“Yes, but human beings are land animals. If Rotor had reached this system, they would surely have attempted to colonize the land areas and of such colonization there is no hint. Is it really necessary to investigate the world further?” the Captain asked.

“Oh yes,” said Wu quickly. “We can’t go back with deductions only. We need some facts. There may be surprises.”

“Do you expect any?” asked Wendel with a touch of anger.

“It doesn’t matter whether I do or not. Can we go back to Earth and tell them that—without looking—we were sure there would be no surprises? That would not be very sensible.”

“It seems to me,” said Wendel, “that you’ve changed your mind rather drastically.
You
were ready to return without even approaching the Neighbor Star.”

“As I recall,” said Wu, “I had my mind changed for me. In any case, under the circumstances, we must explore. I know, Captain, that there is a certain temptation to seize the opportunity to visit a few other star systems, but now that there is an apparently habitable world in view, we must come back to Earth with maximum information on something that may be far more important to our planet in a very practical sense than any amount of catalogue-type information concerning the nearer stars. Besides”—and he pointed at the viewport with what was almost
surprise on his face—“I
want
to take a closer look at that world. I have this feeling it will be completely safe.”

“This feeling?” said Wendel sardonically.

“I’m allowed my intuitions, Captain.”

Merry Blankowitz said in a rather husky voice, “I have my intuitions, too, Captain, and I’m worried.”

Wendel looked at the young woman with sudden surprise. She said, “Are you weeping, Blankowitz?”

“No, not really, Captain. I’m just very upset.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been using the ND.”

“The neuronic detector? On that empty world? Why?”

Blankowitz said, “Because I
came
here to use it. Because that’s my function.”

“And the results are negative,” said Wendel. “I’m sorry, Blankowitz, but if we visit other star systems, you’ll have other chances.”

“But that just it, Captain. The results are
not
negative. I detect intelligence on the world and that’s why I’m upset. It’s a ridiculous result, and I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Jarlow said, “Perhaps the device isn’t working. It’s so new that it wouldn’t be surprising if it weren’t reliable.”

“But why isn’t it working? Is the neuronic detector detecting us here on the ship? Or is it simply giving a false positive? I’ve checked it. The shielding is in perfect order, and if I had a false positive, I ought to have it elsewhere. There are no signs of any positive responses from the gas giant, for instance, or from the Neighbor Star, or from random points in space, but every time I allow it to sweep the satellite, I get a response.”

“You mean,” said Wendel, “that on this world, where we can detect no life,
you
detect intelligence?”

“It’s a
very
minimal response. I can just barely pick it up.”

Crile Fisher said, “Actually, Captain, what about Jarlow’s point? If there’s life in the world’s ocean and we don’t detect it because the water’s opaque, there might still be intelligent life, and perhaps Dr. Blankowitz detects
that
.”

Wu said, “Fisher has a good point. After all, life in the sea—however intelligent—is not likely to have a technology. You can’t have fire in the sea. Nontechnological life
does not make itself very evident, but it may still be intelligent. And a species, however intelligent, is not to be feared without technology, especially if it can’t leave the sea, and if we remain on land. It just makes things more interesting and makes it more necessary for us to investigate.”

Blankowitz said in annoyance, “You all talk so quickly and so endlessly that I don’t get a chance to say anything. You’re all wrong. If it were intelligent sea life, I would get a positive response only from the oceans. I get it
everywhere
, just about evenly. Land as well as sea. I don’t understand it at all.”

“On land as well?” said Wendel, clearly incredulous. “Then there
must
be something wrong.”

“But I can’t find anything wrong,” said Blankowitz. “That’s what’s so upsetting. I just don’t understand this.” Then, as though in extenuation, she added, “It’s very feeble, of course, but it’s there.”

Fisher said, “I think I can explain it.”

All eyes turned to him, and he grew immediately defensive. “Maybe I’m not a scientist,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t see something that’s pretty plain. There’s intelligence in the sea, but we can’t see it because the water hides it. All right, that makes sense. But there’s intelligence on land, too. Well, that’s hidden also. It’s underground.”

“Underground?”
said Jarlow explosively. “Why should it be underground? There’s nothing wrong with the air or with the temperature or with anything we can detect. What’s here to hide from?”

“From the light, for one thing,” said Fisher forcefully. “I’m talking about the Rotorians. Suppose they
did
colonize the planet. Why would they want to remain under the red light of the Neighbor Star, light in which their Rotorian plant life would not flourish, and under which they themselves would grow despondent? Underground, they could have artificial lighting and both they and their plants would be better off. Besides—”

He paused and Wendel said, “Go on. What else?”

“Well, you have to understand the Rotorians. They live on the inside of a world. It’s what they’re used to and what they consider normal. They wouldn’t find it comfortable
to cling to the outside skin of a world. They would dig underneath, as a matter of course.”

Wendel said, “Then you’re suggesting that Blankowitz’s neuronic detector is detecting the presence of human beings under the surface of the planet.”

“Yes. Why not? It’s the thickness of the soil between their caverns and the surface that weakens the response the neuronic detector is measuring.”

Wendel said, “But Blankowitz gets more or less the same reponse over both land and sea.”

“Over the entire planet. It’s very even,” said Blankowitz.

“All right,” said Fisher. “Native intelligence in the sea, Rotorians underground on land. Why not?”

“Wait,” said Jarlow. “You get a response everywhere, Blankowitz. Right?”

“Everywhere. I’ve detected some slight ups and downs, but the response is so shallow I can’t really be sure. Certainly, there seems to be some intelligence everywhere on the planet.”

Jarlow said, “I suppose that’s possible in the sea, but how is it possible on land? Do you suppose that Rotorians, in thirteen years, in
thirteen
years, have dug a network of tunnels under all the land surface of this world. If you got one area of response, or even two—small ones, taking up a tiny fraction of the world’s surface—I’d consider the possibility of Rotorian burrowing. But the entire surface? Please! Tell that to my aunt Tillie.”