Phytosphere

At the daily meeting the next morning, Gerry insisted that Stephanie, the showgirl, fill Luke Langstrom’s chair—and it was agreed by the others that a tourist worker should have representation on the committee.

Gerry outlined his latest finding to the group, and was glad to see that at least Hulke showed some interest, his small gray eyes focusing with curiosity.

“So, this… this band—a band is what you’re calling it?”

“It’s more amorphous than a band,” said Gerry, “but I guess we could call it a band if you like.”

“So, you can…like, see it? It’s there all the time?”

“Yes. I’m hoping to get a second Smallmouth off the ground so we can fly in and take a closer look.

This second Smallmouth will be specifically designed to follow the band, and I think the readings we’ll get from it will be markedly different from the ones we’ve obtained from the first Smallmouth. Plus I’ve got Mitch working on the infrared angle for me. It will be interesting to see if there’s any heat fluctuation.”

Gerry glanced at Mitch. Mitch’s face was pinched, and the AviOrbit representative wouldn’t take his eyes off his waferscreen. The small, intense man spoke without looking up. “I was just thinking that maybe we can analyze the visual-light data more thoroughly… just so we can confirm for Ira that any resources he puts into an infrared array might in fact yield some usable results. Because, to tell you the truth, he really doesn’t see what you’ve done with the results from the first Smallmouth yet… so he asked me why we even bothered with the Smallmouth in the first place if you weren’t going to use… you know… the data in any constructive way.”

Gerry’s frustration simmered. “I’m still analyzing it, Mitch. Believe me, I’m going as fast as I can. If anybody’s got anything at stake here, I do. My wife and kids are down there. But there’s a wealth of information the Smallmouth brought back with it, and I’m only one scientist, and I have hardly any lab staff, and no proper equipment. I’ve had to borrow equipment from the high school. I’m using high school stuff, for God’s sake.”

“It’s just that Ira, he gets in these rhetorical moods. And he was in a really bad one this morning.”

Gerry turned to the mayor. “Malcolm, I’m asking you to put pressure on Ira.”

“Me?” The mayor seemed flustered by the notion. “Gerry…let me explain something to you. As mayor of Nectaris, I don’t have any say over what AviOrbit does.”

“But surely you must have some clout. Talk to Ira. Tell him we need to find out what’s going on with this band. Tell him we have to get this infrared array up and running. Tell him we even need a second Smallmouth.”

“Gerry, he’s not going to go for another Smallmouth,” said Mitch.

Gerry felt himself losing heart. “But we might need it.”

“You haven’t analyzed the data from the first one.”

Gerry glanced at Ian, then at Stephanie, and while both looked at him in obvious alarm, neither of them seemed to know what to do.

At last he turned back to the mayor. “I thought I was in charge here.”

“You are. But can’t you see Ira’s point? Sending the first Smallmouth cost a fair nickel, and—not to sound like the city’s totally down on its luck…but Ira, he’s a bit of a bean counter, and he wants the council to fork over at least a sizable chunk for that particular mission, especially now that it’s starting to look like a bust.”

“A bust?” said Gerry, wondering how the mission could be characterized that way. “It’s not a bust at all.

And a second Smallmouth would follow the band, so it’s going to be different.”

“He’s also a bit reluctant—and I also was on the phone to His Majesty this morning—but he’s also a bit, uh, hesitant, to open the coffers at this particular moment because there’s now the feeling…” He turned to Mitch. “I guess it’s more than a feeling, right, Mitch, because we’ve got some reasonable intelligence to back it up. So… there’s now the feeling that the Earth is on the verge of doing something in a… a grandissimo way about the shroud, and if Earth is going to go ahead and get rid of it for us, why waste money when we can save the funds for, like, a festival or something?”

“And what are they going to do?” asked Gerry.

“Something along the toxin line.” The mayor raised his palms, widened his eyes, and shook his head. “At this point, it’s probably more cost-effective to hold off a bit.”

Stephanie leaned forward beside him. “That’s exactly the opposite of what we should be doing.”

The mayor turned to the showgirl. “And why’s that?”

“Because once Earth blows it—and I’m convinced Earth is going to blow it—we should move fast with whatever we have so we can still catch the Tarsalans off guard.”

A paternal grin came to Hulke’s face. “Ah, yes… but hon, I don’t think Earth’s going to blow it. You’re just showing your Moon bias. They’ve got the fantabulous Dr. Thorndike as their ringmaster. He’s got the… the top eggheads in the country backing him up. He’s got the…” And here he mimicked the overblown diction of the official drops. “The entire resources of the United States of America at his disposal.” The mayor glanced at Gerry and, with a glibness that was slightly drawn, added, “Gerry, you’ve got only high school stuff.”

The rawhide hat twitched menacingly beside Gerry. “Before you can kill something,” Ian said darkly,

“you’ve got to understand it.”

“Now, Ian, my man, I’m sorry, but you must have lifted that from a movie somewhere, and I don’t know how seriously I can really take you when you start talking like that. We can’t be thinking Hollywood. We’ve got to look at the fiscal side of things. That’s all I’m trying to do here. I’m trying to do what’s right for the city. If we knew the toxin wasn’t going to work, it would be a different story.

We’d be throwing every last penny into our own effort. But because the toxin is in fact going to work…”

“But it’s not,” said Stephanie. “Gerry already said so.”

The mayor turned to Mitch. “Should I go into specifics, Mitch? Just so we can convince them?”

“If you think it will help.”

“So you got a drop?” said Gerry.

“Correcto-mundo, my friend. As a matter of fact, we received it at 0500 hours this morning.” The famous self-immolating grin came to the mayor’s face. “Listen to me. I’m starting to talk like them.”

“And what’s my brother got to say for himself this time?”

“Ah…now Gerry, I’m not a technical guy.”

“I thought you said you worked for AviOrbit.”

“I did. In public relations.”

“Then just give me…” The mayor’s phrase came back to haunt him. “The gist of things.”

The mayor raised his eyebrows. “All I know is that they’re going to fool the phytosphere in some way.

It’s the old ace up the sleeve. The old switcheroo. Something like that.” The mayor squinted as he concentrated harder. “Was it…hydrogen sulfide?” He shook his head. “Jeez, all that chemical stuff. I don’t know how you guys keep it straight. Anyway, they’re going to flimflam the phytosphere somehow.”

He turned to his assistant. “Damian, didn’t we make a note of the specifics somewhere?”

The mayor’s young assistant looked up from his waferscreen. “They’re going to starve the phytosphere of its carbon dioxide supply by fooling it with hydrogen sulfide.”

Gerry thought it through and was able to put the rough idea together. Neil was going to use hydrogen sulfide as a carbon dioxide substitute—fool the phytosphere into thinking it was getting the right nutrient, and thereby starve it of the same. It was an ingenious idea. Of course it was ingenious—his brother was no slouch.

Yet he still had doubts. “I hope it works. But I don’t think we should sit around and wait to see if it does. Mitch, if Ira won’t go for another Smallmouth, at least get him to go for the infrared array.

Because as much as my brother’s idea sounds like a good one, the Tarsalans might find a way to neutralize it. We’d be fools to stop our own research and put our eggs into Neil’s basket.”

He looked at the mayor, then at Mitch, and he saw that he had made at least some small impact.