The Eternal Flame

pigment on the paper in front of him, and realized that he still hadn’t solved one simple, practical problem: the paper was darkest when the light had been most bright. If he ever hoped to send these recorded signals back into his body, he’d need a way to modulate the light source in precisely the opposite fashion: making it bright when the paper was dark.

Amanda returned with the preliminary results from her two vole matings. The whole brood in the second suppression test had been stillborn—but as ever it had been a brood of four.

She took one of the strips of paper from the bench and held it up to the light from a nearby lamp.

“So… you’ll run this beside a second, sensitized strip?” she asked. “To duplicate the pattern with the density reversed?”

Carlo stared at her in silence, dumbstruck for a moment. Then he came to his senses and replied, “Of course.”

11

“Air,” said Ivo. “Air is what remains when the fiercest flame has consumed its fuel entirely. There’s nothing safer, nothing more stable. In the worst case imaginable—if the orthogonal rock acts as a liberator for all of our solids—we should still be able to manipulate it with jets of air.”

Tamara looked around the small chamber, wondering if anyone else shared the secret thrill she felt at the prospect Ivo was raising. What could be more terrifying than a universal liberator: a substance that could set anything on fire? And what could be more exhilarating than finding a way to cheat that danger, to grasp the ungraspable in invisible hands?

Massima, the lottery winner, appeared to be growing less at ease with each word she heard. When she’d first put her name down for a chance at this jaunt there’d been a lot less talk of explosions. Ulfa, the chemist appointed by the Council to oversee the project, was as calm and businesslike as ever, raising neat rows of notes on her chest as Ivo spoke. Only Ada, who’d beaten six other astronomers in their own mini-lottery for deputy navigator, showed any sign of excitement.

Ada said, “What if we can’t break a sample free with air alone? If the Object is made of something like hardstone, and there are no loose fragments… you can’t carve hardstone with a jet of air, however high the pressure.”

“If that’s the situation,” Ivo replied, “we’ll have to cut into the surface with airborne dust. If we add a small amount of crushed powderstone to the jet, the reaction between the powderstone and the orthogonal rock will render the jet far more potent.”

“You’re assuming that the rock itself will be consumed, and not just the powderstone,” Ulfa pointed out.

“Do you know of any liberator that isn’t consumed in the flame it creates?” Ivo asked her.

“No,” Ulfa conceded. “But the liberators we know about are fragile plant extracts. We can’t assume that a slab of solid rock will act the same way.”

“If there’s a flame produced at all, the heat should at least weaken the rock,” Ivo said. “And if that’s not sufficient, we could replace the powderstone with hardstone, making the jet more abrasive.”

Ulfa said, “This is a material we’ve never encountered before. What if it can’t be abraded, even by burning hardstone?”

Ivo emitted a soft hum of frustration. “There’s no reason to believe that orthogonal matter will be endowed with magical powers of durability! Reversing the arrows of its luxagens might influence its chemical properties with respect to ordinary matter, but it can’t make the rock itself harder, or more resistant to heat.”

Tamara had to side with him on that: it was basic rotational physics. For a rock to be rendered tougher just because its “future”—according to Nereo’s arrow—had ended up facing their past was as absurd as expecting a rope to become stronger if you turned around and traversed it in the opposite direction.

Ulfa remained calm, but unswayed. “I understand that, Ivo. But it’s my job to ask what will happen if these assumptions are wrong.”

“If the rock can’t be cut by any method at all… then we won’t cut it,” Ivo replied. “What else can I say?”

“And if you can’t take a sample,” Ulfa pressed him, “how will you calibrate the process that you’re hoping to use to capture the Object?”

Ivo was silent for a few pauses. Then he said, “We’ll have no choice but to perform the reaction in the wild. We’ll throw calmstone at the Object and observe the effects—scaling up the quantity gradually so we don’t take undue risks.”

“But you’ll have no way to measure the force you’re producing,” Ulfa said.

“Not immediately,” Ivo agreed. “Not until it starts to change the Object’s trajectory. We’ll simply have to work by trial and error, incrementally: dropping calmstone on the site where we want to deliver a push, until the cumulative effect is large enough to observe.”

Ulfa paused to dust her chest with dye and press a sheet of paper to her skin. Then she addressed Tamara. “Do you think that’s feasible?”

“It will be difficult,” Tamara admitted. “Each beacon will only be visible once a bell, so if we’re going to have to nudge the Object repeatedly and check its motion each time, it will be a slow process. We could be there for as long as a couple of stints.”

“So you’ll need more cooling air, more food,” Ulfa said. “What’s that going to do to your flight plan?”

“The mass of any extra food would be negligible,” Tamara said, resisting a joke about the proportion of women on the crew. “But it might be worth making allowances to bring more cooling air. Hyperthermia is a horrible way to go.”

Massima said, “Forgive me for interrupting.”

At the sound of her voice everyone turned to face her. In all the planning meetings she’d attended, she’d barely spoken a word.

Tamara tried to counter the alarm she’d inadvertently created. “I only meant that we needed to be sure of our air supplies. I promise you, we won’t be taking any foolish risks—”

Massima raised a hand to silence her. “I accept that. But the truth is, I have no expertise to contribute to this task, so why should I be there with you, using up precious air? It was generous of you to offer a place on the Gnat to an onlooker. This could have been the experience of a lifetime, the perfect story to leave to my children. But in all conscience, after what I’ve heard these last few stints I can’t take that role any more. I wish you luck, but I’ll have to hear about the journey upon your return.”

Tamara didn’t know how to respond. Imploring the woman to reconsider would only embarrass her.

Ada said, “I respect your decision, Massima. And I’ll be happy to tell you everything as soon as we get back.”

As Massima left the chamber, Tamara wondered if the Council would insist that they draw another name from the lottery entrants. If not, they’d have a chance to bring another crew member. If it was prudent to appoint two navigators, why not a second chemist in case something befell the first?

Ivo went on to describe the machinery he wished to commission from the instrument builders, to equip the Gnat with hands of air should it need them. Ulfa quibbled over some details, but eventually agreed that he could take his sketches to Marzio and have prototypes made.

When the meeting was over, Tamara caught up with Ada in the corridor.

“I can’t believe I frightened off our passenger,” Tamara lamented.

“It’s not your fault,” Ada replied. “She made her own judgment.”

“So how’s your co taking this?” Tamara asked her.

“He’s a little jealous,” Ada admitted. “But he’ll survive.”

“He’s not worried about you?”

Ada thought for a while as they dragged themselves along the ropes. “Maybe he is. But he knows I won’t get another chance like this. I mean, I’m not going to be guiding the Peerless home, am I? And I’m never going to spot anything in the sky that really matters.”

Tamara buzzed admonishingly. “You have more years as an observer ahead of you than I do!”