CHAPTER 7
They called this enticing new asteroid Ajanib, and Sharif immediately clapped a seal of high security over its existence.
“The timing, Sami,” Sharif patiently explained. “Think how it would appear to certain paranoiacs among the Confederated Worlds’ hierarchy . . . We encourage Bethune to part company with the Confederated Worlds at about the same moment we lay claim to some hunk of ancient alien tech right in the Bethune system.”
Sami glowered at his older brother, entirely unwilling to be persuaded. Sami had no taste for hiding his light under a bushel, and now that he finally attained a galactic level of success, he naturally wanted to receive a galactic level of acclaim.
Sharif knew the expression on Sami’s face all too well, sighing deeply. “Now don’t get yourself in a state. Be reasonable and think about what I’m saying for just a few moments.” Sami folded his arms, raising his eyebrows skeptically as Sharif pressed on. “How many politicians have you personally known, brother?”
Sami shrugged. “Many and many.” Both brothers discovered early in life that no class of person was more eager to become their closest of friends—both being heirs to such an immense fortune—than politicians.
“Yes?” Sharif pressed on. “And think back across all those whom you have known . . . would you say any of them are likely to believe in an innocent coincidence where matters of power are concerned?” Sami’s aloof expression faded somewhat, his eyes becoming thoughtful, remembering. “Or is every last one of them going to be dead certain that we have discovered the greatest secret in human history and we’ve orchestrated a treacherous method to keep it out of government hands?”
Sami frowned, leaning his head to one side. “We could easily explain that—”
“If they’ve already got an earful about your little discovery they won’t believe anything we say,” Sharif said, cutting Sami off. “This, brother, is the way wars stumble into existence.”
Sami blew a breath through his teeth, but Sharif knew he had done his work. “So we will quietly find out what all Ajanib means for us, and after we’ve got that figured”—Sharif didn’t say aloud the word they both held in mind, exploited—“we’ll invite a cluster of top scientists from Earth or wherever to roam all over it, write their papers and such, while we go on about our business.”
Sami could only reluctantly agree.
Unfortunately, they soon found that the exploitation phase that both brothers salivated over remained strangely unsatisfying.
The initial coterie of trusted company scientists slipped quietly out to Ajanib and conducted a hurried exploration and analysis, confirming the findings of the initial survey crew. Their reports, however, slowly drained Sami’s overweening arrogance away. While the scientists discovered inexplicable effects within Ajanib, the scant technology and materials they uncovered represented only comparatively minor revelations for Maktoum Corporation’s exploitation.
The scientific analysis infuriated Sami, even as it confirmed that the asteroid truly, bizarrely contained far greater internal volume than its external dimensions allowed. This effect seemed beyond their research, described as some “inexplicable superimposition of hyperbolic geometry” that had no discernible genesis to be reverse engineered. Sami’s dreams of Maktoum cargo vessels containing ten times the internal volume suddenly dissolved.
The same dismal outcome unfolded with nearly all the odd technologies Ajanib seemed to promise. The base had operated autonomous mining or cargo transport vehicles through its hundreds of miles of passages, possibly for thousands and thousands of years, but they could locate no great computer brain controlling these vehicles. Artificial gravity, lighting, and atmospheric controls had clearly functioned for many centuries, but no fusion reactors seemed to be creating the necessary power.
Still, Sami stubbornly retained hope for months, expecting some great treasure vault of alien wonders to be discovered within the asteroid at any moment, and he had good reason for maintaining this lingering optimism. Their most gifted scientists seemed baffled by various aspects of Ajanib’s wonders, particularly the strange hyperbolic geometrical effects found within, constantly describing the difficulty in retracing their steps to find certain chambers, or discovering new rooms where it seemed that they had previously searched.
When Sharif finally allowed Sami’s “triumph” to be broadly revealed to the totality of human space, it had become more of a puzzling curiosity than a revolution in alien technology. In many ways it resembled the Gear on Bethune itself in this light, and the small trickle of scientists permitted to visit from Earth’s universities only confirmed this.
Among the many burst bubbles, the report of an alien entity that Angel Rua encountered in the depths of Ajanib faded into the realm of myth, attributed to little more than heightened tensions and poor visibility through an unfamiliar helmet.
When Sami Maktoum finally made his way out to Ajanib himself, he could only bitterly grasp at a small thread of gratitude. Out of all the potential world-shaking discoveries in alien technology, Maktoum scientists had only isolated an amazing new lubricant that the automated mining car system employed, and this one humble product appeared likely to recoup the funds Sami had invested to find and secure the asteroid. As he walked from the large central section of Ajanib the surveyors had called the Plaza, this reflection didn’t warm Sami’s heart, and he still cherished a faint glimmering hope that Ajanib could become the astonishing success he had sought for many years.
When he strolled down a smooth ramp to one of the lower levels, a group of Maktoum scientists around him, Sami barely heard what they said to him, picturing his moment of glory when Sharif would finally be forced to admit that Sami’s mercurial nature also contained its own fair share of family genius.
He popped out of his reverie for a moment to observe one of Ajanib’s automated vehicles go roaring by them, seeing his frustrations embodied in its smooth gray chassis. How had these vehicles operated for thousands of years with simple automation alone? And why would such a technologically advanced race utilize wheeled vehicles at all? Just as Sami’s mind pondered over the possibility of an alien’s sentimental attachment to wheeled vehicles, the most brilliant idea of his whole life struck in a sudden thunderbolt of inspiration, almost blinding his natural vision as the ingenious images filled his mind, one after the other.
For once in his life, Sami saw the string of those earlier business failures in his life from a whole new perspective, each of them a necessary link in a chain that led to this fateful moment.
As he turned and looked at the miles of smooth tunnels, the galleries, the sheer enormity of it, Sami spoke out aloud, “It’s perfect!”
The technicians and scientists around him didn’t know what precisely seemed perfect to Sami, but they all felt naturally relieved . . . until they eventually saw Sami’s plan take shape, their initial enthusiasm dying in one horrible unscientific instant of commercialism.