Westfall smiled thinly, but said nothing.
PLANS
“Well,” said Yeager, loudly enough to make all heads along the table turn toward him, “I’m here to see that you can send a team of people down into that ocean with the leviathans, whether they’re intelligent or not.”
Westfall raised a brow. “Really?”
Archer cleared his throat, then started to explain, “I was going to tell you about that tomorrow, when we go through the station’s newest wheel.”
“The area that’s dedicated to studying the leviathans,” Westfall said. It was not a question.
“The area that’s dedicated to studying the planet Jupiter, including its indigenous life-forms,” Archer replied evenly.
“And you intend to send a human team into the ocean?”
“Yes, I do.”
“There hasn’t been a human probe into the ocean in twenty years,” Westfall said. “Not since you yourself went down there.”
“I’m quite aware of that.”
“You’ll need IAA approval for such a dangerous mission. I doubt that you’ll get it.”
Archer seemed to square his shoulders without moving from his chair at the head of the table. Deirdre noticed that his wife slid her hand over his.
“As I read the regulations,” Archer said, forcing a smile for Mrs. Westfall, “IAA approval is necessary for funding allocations, not for approving specific missions.”
“For such a dangerous mission—”
“It won’t be all that dangerous,” Yeager said.
Deirdre turned toward the engineer, who was sitting on her right. Everyone else looked at him, too.
“Not dangerous?” Westfall asked, clearly disbelieving him.
Yeager spread his hands grandly. “No more dangerous than working out on the surface of Europa. Or Io, with those volcanoes spouting off.”
“But you’ll have to dive hundreds of kilometers deep into that ocean. The pressures—”
“No problem,” said Yeager.
“But the earlier missions all suffered terrible damage. Casualties. People died!”
Yeager gave her a condescending grin. “The earlier missions were sent out before we had a firm understanding of just what the conditions are down there. We knew the pressure would be tremendous, but how tremendous? We didn’t have any firm numbers. You can’t design without firm numbers to work with.”
Still looking incredulous, Westfall said, “You’re saying that—”
“I’m saying that the past twenty years’ worth of uncrewed missions into the ocean have given us enough data about the pressures and other conditions down at that level so that we can design a vessel that can safely carry people there.”
Dorn spoke up. “Those pressures were calculated long before the first human mission went into the ocean, weren’t they?”
“Sure they were,” Yeager agreed. “But those calculations were based on theoretical work. Models that made a lot of assumptions. There wasn’t any actual data. Now we have real data and we know to several decimal places what the conditions are.” Before anyone could respond, the engineer went on, “And when you know what you’re working against you can design a vessel that will work in those conditions. Work just fine.”
Westfall turned to Grant Archer. “So you’ve built such a vessel, haven’t you?”
“It’s waiting for its final checkout,” Archer said. “It’s co-orbiting with this station. I’ll show it to you tomorrow.”
“I didn’t see it in the virtual reality tour you gave me,” Westfall said. Her voice was not accusing, not sharp, but Deirdre could hear the icy distrust in her tone.
For a couple of heartbeats Archer said nothing. Then, “No, the vessel hasn’t been included in the VR tour. Not yet.”
Deirdre imagined she could see the wheels spinning inside Westfall’s perfectly coiffed head.
At last Westfall said, “As a member of the IAA’s governing council, I could get the council to issue an order forbidding a human mission into the ocean.”
Taut-faced, Archer replied, “You couldn’t get the council to act before the mission is launched.”
Anger flared on Westfall’s face for an instant, but she immediately suppressed it. “I think you underestimate the speed with which the council can act—when properly motivated.”
Archer glanced at his wife, sitting beside him, then returned his focus to Westfall. “Mrs. Westfall,” he said with deliberate formality, “I intend to send that vessel into the ocean of Jupiter. You can fire me from my post afterward, but that’s what I intend to do.”
“I won’t allow it,” Westfall said.
Andy Corvus piped up. “Hey, wait a minute. I’ve got to get down into that ocean. I’ve got to make contact with those critters.”
“You’ve
“That’s right,” Corvus snapped back at her. “I’ve got to. I’m a neurophysiologist. I believe I can make a meaningful communications contact with an alien life-form. I might be wrong about that, but I’ll never know unless I get the chance to try.”
Marjorie Archer asked softly, “But why do you say you’ve got to do that?”
Corvus turned toward her. “You’re a scientist. You know why.”
“Please, tell me,” Westfall said.
Andy ran a hand through his thick red mop before saying, “I’m a scientist. I do science. That’s my life. Michelangelo carved statues. Beethoven wrote symphonies. I do science. If you prevent me from doing it, it’s like … well, it’s like chopping off my hands. You haven’t killed me, exactly, but you’ve put an end to my life.”
Westfall shook her head slightly.
Deirdre said, “It would be as if someone prevented you from doing the work you love. Stopped you from being who you are, turned you into a hollow shell.”
Looking slowly from face to face, Westfall asked, “Is that the way all of you feel? You’re all scientists, do all of you—”
“I’m an engineer,” Yeager interrupted. “But, yeah, that’s what it’s all about. Birds gotta fly, fish gotta swim, and once you get hooked into this kind of research, you’ve got to do it. Or life becomes meaningless.”
Westfall turned to Dorn. “You’re not a scientist, are you?”
“No, I’m not,” said the cyborg. Then he added, “Scientists are curious people. I’m merely a curiosity.”
Archer tapped a fork against his water glass and everyone turned toward him. “I didn’t intend for this dinner to turn into a confrontation.” With a grin, he added, “Or a symposium on the philosophy of science.”
Westfall allowed herself a slight smile.
Archer continued, “Tomorrow, Mrs. Westfall, I’d like to show you what we’re doing in our studies of Jupiter and its life-forms. Show you how far we’ve come—and how very far we still have to go.”
Westfall nodded regally. “Until tomorrow, then.”
CONTROL CENTER
Deirdre was awakened by the insistent buzzing of the phone. She sat up in bed, rubbed her eyes, and asked the communications system’s computer, “Who’s calling?”
G. MAXWELL YEAGER appeared on the screen above her desk. Deirdre saw that the time was only 0600.
