Poul Anderson: Fire Time

“If I may guess, sir—Gea has natives who’re pretty strange by our lights. I found no mention of them registering any complaints against you. Which must mean you treated them right, wisely, cleverly, kindly. Maybe Cincpeace figures you’re our best representative to the Ishtarians.”

“Then why aren’t you posted back there?” Dejerine demanded. He took a savage puff of smoke. “You’ve lived in their midst. Your community has for a hundred years.”

Conway hesitated, glanced aside, finally said low:

“Well, it isn’t a place for my kind of unit, unlikely as combat is. And… whether Staff thought of it or not… I’d be none too good on Ishtar. Emotional conflicts—You see, my family, parents, sisters, my old friends… they’re against the war. Many are really bitter.”

Dejerine smoothed his countenance. “How do you feel about it?” he asked.

Conway met his look square on. “I enlisted, didn’t I? Oh, sure, rights and wrongs on both sides. But—humans have been attacked. Their presence has been challenged, on real estate they made theirs with blood and sweat. If we don’t stop that kind of thing early, we’ll be in a bad way later. I recall the Alerion affair.”

Dejerine smiled. “You don’t, son,” he replied. “I myself was busy getting born that year.” His humor faded. “But, yes, we try to learn lessons from history. Besides, speaking as an individual, I’ve seen the Welfare and Backworld misery on Earth—been there in person, felt it, smelled it—and I’ve seen people who left it for Eleutheria, and what they’ve done and what they hope for—

“Well, I am not being sent to help themI’m bound a thousand light-years in the opposite direction!”

He drained his glass, rose in a single motion, and sought the bar. “Are you ready for a refill?” he asked quietly.

“No, thanks.” Conway searched for words. “Captain, Cincpeace must have reasons. Suppose the Naqsans did make a long surprise move and occupy Ishtar. It has resources. Or I suppose it has more hostage value, less in those few people of ours than in all the high-powered man-years we’ve got invested for scientific knowledge that’s finally begun to pour in. Come negotiations, Ishtar could be a mighty good bargaining counter for Naqsa.”

“Do you truly think so?” Dejerine brightened a trifle. “My orders just are to establish a reconnaissance base against the possibility, remote but still a possibility, that action may move toward that volume of space.”

Conway nodded. “And unless it’s well done, it’s a waste of effort. That’s why you’re in charge, sir. Once you’ve got it running, I’ll bet my Y chromosome you’ll be reassigned—to the front—if we haven’t finished the war before then.”

Dejerine laughed anew. “ Tiens , you do know how to make a chap feel better, don’t you? Thanks.” He returned to his lounger. “Those Naqsans are tough and smart. I expect fighting will go on for years.”

“I hope not.”

“Well, naturally. If anybody likes the idea of war, any war, past, present, or future, let him speak forth so we may shoot the son of a bitch and get on with a rational discussion. The lesser of two evils doesn’t stop being evil on that account. And I… have had friends on the opposite side, in happier days.”

Dejerine paused before he added, “It is that, you understand, I want to have a part in ending this thing. I happen to take seriously the theory that our service is the space police arm of the Peace Control Authority of the World Federation.” He stirred. “Tell me, since you say they generally oppose the war on Ishtar, why? Most Earthside intellectuals support it with crusading fervor.”

Conway drank. “I’m afraid at that distance, the issues look kind of unreal,” he said, and leaned forward. “Mainly, though—from what I heard and read before leaving home, when the conflict was only potential but the news kept getting uglier—and from letters and tapes I’ve gotten since, and talking with visitors here—mainly, they see it as a disaster to their special cause, to the whole planet. If nothing else, the supplies they need are being pinched off. Let the affair go on awhile, and they won’t be able to get any stuff for their projects. At the worst possible time. too.”

“Ah.” Dejerine blew a smoke ring and followed its progress through squinted eyes till it had dissipated. “We come to what I want from you. Information. Background. Advice. The care and feeding of Ishtarians and of the small but venerable scientific-altruistic colony which the Exploratory Consortium maintains among them. Anything you can tell. You see, my orders were cut last week. Nearly all my waking hours and half my sleeping ones have gone to getting my command organized, and will until we leave, which is soon. I suppose it would be indiscreet to tell a junior officer how much high-level sperm I receive—”

Seeing Conway’s bemusement, he stopped. “Uh, sperm, sir?” the younger man asked.

“What, you haven’t heard? You are an innocent. Standard Procedure, Entropy Reaching Maximum. The point is, you are my single chance to learn about my objective. Ignorant as I am, I could do every kind of harm, perhaps actually compromise my mission.”

“But—you’re educated, you’ve been around in space—”

“Oh, yes, yes, yes,” Dejerine said impatiently. “I understand the celestial mechanics of the Anubelean System. I know a little something about the natives of Ishtar, including their unique biological situation.” He drew breath. “Planets where men can walk around in shirt sleeves are few enough that everybody alive between the ears can at least name you those we know. By the same token, however, they’re thinly scattered. Our main involvements are with races and bases closer to home. Also, never forget, any planet is a whole world, too big and complicated to comprehend. Bon Dieu, man, I live on Earth and I can’t describe its littoral ecology or the dynastic history of China or what the current squabble in the Kenyan Empire is about!”

He dropped cigar in ashtaker, slammed his drink down next to it, and from the table snatched the book on Ishtar. “I have been studying this, for instance.” His words came quick and harsh. “The latest published, ten years old. Neatly assembled information.” He flopped it open, more or less at random, and thrust it under Conway’s nose. “Observe.”

The left page:

ANUBELEA B (Bel)

Type: G2, main sequence

Mass: 0.95 Sol

Mean diameter: 1.06 Sol

Mean rotation period: 0.91

Sol Luminosity: 0.98 Sol

Effective temperature: 5800° K.

Note : Asteriods are distributed semi-randomly, due to the companion stars. For complete orbital data, see Appendix D. For fuller description of planets of B other than Ishtar, see Chapter XI.

The right page:

ANUBELEA B III (Bel III)

ISHTAR

Elementary parameters

Earth (E) = 1.0

Mass: 1.53 E.

Mean equatorial diameter: 1.14 E = 14,502 km.

Mean density: 1.03 E = 5.73 H 20.

Mean surface gravity: 1.18 E = 1155 cm/sec 2.

Sidereal year: 1,072 E = 392 Terrestrial days = 510 Ishtarian days.

Rotation period: 0.775 E = 18 h 36 m 10.3 s.

Axial inclination: 1.14 E = 28° 3’.2.

Mean irradiation (from Bel only): 0.89 Sol/Earth.

Mean angular diameter of Bel: 1.03 Sol/Earth = 33’.

Mean sea-level atmospheric pressure: 1.12 E = 810 mm Hg.

Normal % atmospheric composition by volume: N 376.90, O 221.02, H 2O 0.35, A 1.01, CO 20.03, + misc.