CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Dyer wondered how Schroder and Krantz intended getting away with the audacious idea of hijacking a piece of state-owned astronautic engineering the size of Icarus C and using it for their own undisclosable purposes. Even with Presidential knowledge and approval, the action seemed too farfetched to be workable and would surely, he thought, attract more than enough political probing and publicity to scuttle the whole plan. A few days after his interview in Washington, however, items began appearing in the news which reported that commissioning trials of Icarus B, completed toward the end of the previous year, had revealed certain short-comings in performance and design. Enough had been learned, the reports said, for matters to be put right by means of an elaborate program of modifications. Moreover a perfect opportunity to test those modifications presented itself in the form of Icarus B’s twin, Icarus C, which was just in the right phase of construction to permit ready incorporation of the redesigns provided that no time was wasted in approving the change of plan. Once the improvements had been tested on Icarus C, Icarus B could later be brought up to the same standard; in the meantime Icarus B could continue to operate as at present.
Some protests were forthcoming from Congress, mainly in the form of a few pointed remarks about the technical incompetence and financial irresponsibility of some of ISA’s planning groups; but the economic arguments presented in favor of having two stations running efficiently later rather than inefficiently sooner were persuasive. Within a month all further work on the station was halted and the construction teams were pulled out and reassigned to other ISA projects. Two weeks after that the go-ahead was given for ISA to commence its modification program using its own teams of specialists.
Somehow the military had become involved in the whole thing too. Somebody conceived the notion that this unscheduled addition to the Icarus program would provide a good opportunity for the Army Corps of Engineers to give their people some valuable experience in space-engineering techniques. This unusual suggestion went through the higher levels of the Pentagon with singular lack of opposition. Shortly afterward came the announcement that a special unit was to be formed of volunteers from all three services to spearhead the venture. The unit would take over a disused Army base in Virginia called Fort Vokes, where training was to commence immediately in cooperation with ISA. A General Mark Linsay, formerly attached to the Special Electronics Weapons Trials Unit of the Army located in Colorado, had been appointed commanding officer of Fort Vokes.
Dyer was not involved in whatever maneuvering had gone on behind the scenes to culminate in these announcements, but he was impressed and more than a little gratified by the knowledge that he was evidently with people who knew how to get things done. For his part during this time, he gradually put together a list of specialists in various areas of computer and allied sciences, including Frank Wescott from CIT, and passed it on to Krantz together with a few more names from a list that Schroder had submitted, which also included Frank Wescott. Then, while Krantz was making discreet inquiries and putting out guarded feelers, Dyer turned his attention to the question of including some of his own staff from CUNY.
Chris, Ron and Kim were the obvious candidates. Dyer contrived a series of confidential talks with each of them in which he gradually revealed more of the situation as their reactions and attitudes became apparent. Ron accepted without any hesitation. Chris had to go away and think about it, and eventually came back to voice his uncertainty about how such a change in plans would affect the funding authority in London which was paying for his research fellowship. After some communication with London in which Vincent Lewis endorsed Chris’s claim that a temporary assignment to a vaguely defined project involving ISA would constitute a valid extension to the work that Chris had come to the U.S. to pursue, a grudging assent was obtained and the matter was settled; Chris was going too.
Dyer anticipated that things would not go as easily in Kim’s case; after all, what pretext could there be for spiriting a man’s wife away for six months or more, and for keeping her whereabouts a secret in a world that had forgotten the meaning of security and in which instant communication with any point on the Earth’s surface and beyond was taken for granted? To his surprise, however, Kim talked to him a few days after he had broached the subject and declared simply that there would be no problem. Dyer was curious but didn’t want to pry for information of a personal nature which had not been volunteered, so he accepted with thanks and left it at that.
So, subject to Krantz performing his part successfully, the team was in effect complete.
At about this time Lewis began mentioning to Richter that the CIM verdict on FISE wasn’t looking too hopeful and that a reappraisal of the University’s financial commitments had led him to the reluctant conclusion that internal funding of FISE would not be possible. Nevertheless there was some good news too, which would mean at least that Dyer and his team could remain usefully occupied without becoming a lost tribe within the University, wandering in search of something to do. Lewis then described the cover story that he had already worked out with Schroder, leading Richter to believe that it was genuine and pointing out that it would require its own cover story to conceal the so-called real version from inquisitive ears around the campus. Richter duly put Hoestler in the picture and Hoestler summed it up in a confidential chat which he had with Dyer later that same day.
“The verdict seems to be that CIM is pulling out of FISE and we can’t see our way clear to putting enough of our money in to keep it going,” Hoestler said solemnly.
“I see,” Dyer replied in an appropriately heavy voice, keeping his face straight.
“But we have been putting in a lot of work on your behalf nevertheless,” Hoestler went on. “Vince has sold ISA the idea of borrowing you and maybe some of your staff for a period to help sort out the screw-up on Luna. How does that appeal to you?” Dyer went through the expected motions of surprise and incredulity.
“What . . . the Moon? You mean you want to send us up there with ISA?”
“That’s right. I’m now free to tell you that it’s as good as fixed up . . . provided you agree that you want to go, of course.”
“That’s pretty short notice. I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“Think about it, but don’t take too long,” Hoestler urged. “But one thing I must stress is that absolute discretion is essential, especially regarding the reasons for going there.”
“Of course,” Dyer agreed.
“Reinhold is still a sensitive issue. It wouldn’t do for everybody to know that there have been problems with TITAN. Therefore we intend explaining your absence by a slightly different story. Officially some members of the HESPER Unit will be going on a special research project with one of the ISA missions toward the end of this year. As preparation for that we’re sending you away to undergo training with ISA on their procedures and regulations for extraterrestrial duties. Is that clear? That’s the version for internal consumption here. If anyone asks you about it, that’s all you know.”
Dyer responded with a slow conspiratorial nod of understanding.
“Are we talking about the whole Unit?” he asked.
Hoestler shook his head. “Just you and the senior staff.”
“What about the rest?”
“We’ve already discussed that,” Hoestler told him. “We’ll arrange for one of the other section heads in SAP to take over temporarily till you get back. Anyhow, you leave that to us. That’s all under control.”
“Okay,” Dyer agreed after a few seconds of simulated thought. “I’ll have to ask for a bit of time though. I reckon I could get back to you on it by the end of the week. How’d that be?”
“Just what I was hoping you’d say,” Hoestler told him. “And remember, the real story is classified information. As far as you’re concerned it’s just a routine job with ISA.”
“I’ll remember,” Dyer promised.
When he emerged into the corridor outside, he shook his head sadly and smiled to himself as he took out his pocket viewpad and re-enabled it to accept incoming calls. Immediately a message appeared on the screen advising that Krantz had tried to call a few minutes earlier. Dyer returned to his office and immediately placed a call to Krantz.
“I have to be in New York tonight for an early meeting tomorrow,” Krantz told him. “I thought maybe we could get together for a couple of drinks. I’d like to update you on what’s been going on.”
“Sure,” Dyer replied. “You know, this whole situation is getting a bit weird. I haven’t gotten used to working for a remote boss yet.”
“It won’t be for much longer,” Krantz told him, smiling faintly. “That’s one of the things I was going to mention tonight.”
“What?”
Krantz leaned forward toward the screen and spoke in a voice that lowered itself instinctively.
“Are you alone there . . . any open doors nearby?”
“No,” Dyer said. “It’s okay. What’s happening?”
“Linsay’s got things organized to the point where it’s time to integrate the scientific team with the rest of the Janus population. It’s all fixed. You and your people will be moving out to Fort Vokes in one month’s time. You’d better start thinking about packing toothbrushes.”
“The final garrison on Janus will be in the order of five thousand personnel selected from Army, Navy and Air Force volunteers of both sexes in approximately equal proportions.” Krantz sat with his elbows propped on the table in front of him and spoke quietly over his loosely interlaced fingers. Dyer drank in silence as he listened from across the corner, It was still early evening and the only other customers in the bar were grouped over by the far wall, well away from them. Chuck’s radar had told him that the conversation was private and he had disappeared into his office at the rear of the premises.
“They will perform all the duties and activities normally carried out by a normal colony population,” Krantz went on. “In addition there will be a small number—a hundred or less—civilian specialists to take charge of operations that the military aren’t specifically trained to handle—energy production and control, manufacturing, agriculture and things like that. In addition we’ll have a few groups and individuals conducting specialized tasks analogous to your own scientific team—psychologists, observers, sociologists and so on—even some newspeople.”
“Newspeople?” Dyer’s eyebrows knitted in surprise. “I thought this was strictly not for the public?”
“For now it isn’t. But if anything newsworthy does come out of it we’d like to have professionals around to record it all properly. Oh, you needn’t worry about them. They’ll all be selected people who can be trusted. They won’t blow anything to anybody until it’s all over and they’ve been given the right clearances to do it.”
“What about the psychologists and so on?” Dyer asked. “What will they be there for? Are you worried we’ll all be in danger of going crazy or something?”
Krantz gave a short laugh and shook his head. “You and your team will be there to study how the computers react in a situation that will be unlike anything that’s ever happened before—a deliberate confrontation between men and machines. But don’t forget that a lot of people are very interested in finding out how the humans will react too. It’s a scientific experiment and the purpose is to provide data. Well, we intend squeezing every bit of data out of this exercise that we can.”
A jovial middle-aged couple came in through the door and began heading toward the adjacent table. Conversation ceased for a few moments until the new arrivals mercifully altered course and settled down in the far corner. When Dyer looked back at Krantz, his expression had grown suddenly thoughtful.
“What you said just made me think of something.”
“What’s that?” Krantz inquired.
“About having people to observe the people. The scientists are people too. Did you think of having anybody there to study how they react to it all as well?”
“Not specifically.” Krantz looked a trifle puzzled. “I suppose that would come under the normal job of the psychologists . . .” He twisted his face into a mild frown. “I’m not really sure what you’ve got in mind. Do you mean extra psychologists specifically attached to the scientific team or something?”
“Not exactly extra psychologists,” Dyer said in a faraway voice. “More something in addition to the psychologists . . . a different angle.”
“I’m still not with you.”
“Somebody who’d see them as all-around people in a nonspecialized way instead of as psychological specimens. Add a human angle to it. If you’re thinking about how the story might come out afterwards something like that could make a lot of difference.”
“Mmm . . .” Krantz studied the tabletop and rubbed his chin slowly. “Interesting thought, I suppose.” He looked up sharply. “Why? Do you have somebody in particular in mind?”
“I know somebody who’s quite experienced in that kind of job. In fact she’s been doing just that in my unit for some time now. It was something that Vince Lewis agreed on with one of the media companies.”
“She?” Krantz leaned back and eyed Dyer shrewdly. “Pretty, is she?” he asked in a casual voice.
Dyer shrugged. “I guess you could say that. Kinda fun to have around, anyhow.” He tossed out a hand carelessly. “It was just a thought.”
Krantz’s eyes were twinkling.
“If she’s with your unit, why don’t you talk to her about it?” he asked.
“I can’t,” Dyer replied simply. “My brief okayed me to approach members of my staff. She’s not even employed by the University.”
“Oh, I see. But if I liked the idea, it would be my job to initiate an approach via the appropriate agencies. That it?”
Dyer pursed his lips and nodded as if the thought had occurred to him for the first time.
“Yes,” he said. “Now you come to mention it, I guess it would.”
“But I’d only do that if you made a specific recommendation,” Krantz pointed out.
“That would depend on whether you liked the idea or not, wouldn’t it,” Dyer told him.
Krantz thought for a moment longer, then grinned and drew a viewpad from his inside jacket pocket.
“Okay,” he pronounced. “I like the idea. So why don’t you give me some specific details.”