Brodersen leaned forward. His pipestem jabbed the air. "I give you, probably most of those I've queried, or my agents have, are honest," he said. "They really had no information. In a couple of cases they took the trouble to send off inquiries of their own, and got back a negative. It's understandable that they didn't then dig further. They consider their time valuable, and I've got the reputation of being a troublemaker. Why should they assume my data were valid? Doubtless several of them decided I was lying for some obscure purpose.
"Well, you've been on Demeter long enough to know me better than that, no? And for my part, when I first contacted you about this and you said you'd heard nothing, I believed. When I asked again later and you said you were investigating, I believed also. Since then, however-frankly, I've grown more and more skeptical.
"So why have you summoned me today?"
Hancock tossed the stub of her cigarette down an ashtaker, took another from a box, and struck it alight in a savage motion. "You mentioned my wanting to gag you," she said. "Call it what you please. It's what I mean to do."
Not quite a surprise. Brodersen willed his belly muscles to untighten, his response to be soft: "For what reason and by what right?"
She met his gaze square on. "I've received an answer to my communications about this affair from an extremely high quarter. The public interest demands that for an indefinite time there be no release of news. That includes the allegations you've been making."
"Public interest, eh?"
"Yes. I wish-" The hand that brought the cigarette to Hancock's lips was less than steady. "Dan," she said almost sadly, "we've been at loggerheads before. I realize how much you oppose certain policies of the Union and how you're becoming a spokesman for that attitude among Demetrians. Nevertheless, I've esteemed you and dared hope you believed I also wanted the best for this planet. We've worked together, even, haven't we? Like when I talked the Council into making the extra appropriation for the University you wanted, or you lobbied your stiff-necked colonial parliament into approving the Ecological Authority that I'd persuaded you had become a necessity. May I ask today for a bit more of your trust?"
"Sure," he said, "if you tell me the reasons."
She shook her head. "I can't. You see, I haven't been given the details myself. It's that crucial. But those who've requested my help, I trust them."
"Notably Ira Quick." Brodersen couldn't neutralize the acid in his reply.
She stiffened. "As you like. He is the Minister of Research and Development."
"And a drive wheel in the Action Party, which leads all those factions on Earth that'd rather not see us go out into the galaxy." Brodersen curbed his temper. "Let's not argue politics. What are you free to tell me? I presume you can give me some argument, some reason to dog my hatch."
Hancock streamed smoke while she stared at the glowing butt she held on the desktop. "They suggested a hypothetical case to me. Imagine you're right, that Emissary has in fact returned, but she was bearing something terrible."
"A plague? A swami of vampires? For Pete's sake, Aurie! And Paul's, Matt's, Mark's, Luke's, and Jack's."
"It could simply be bad news. We've taken a lot of things for granted. For instance, that every civilization technologically advanced beyond us must be peaceful, else they couldn't have lasted. Which is a logical non sequitur, actually. Suppose Emissary discovered a conquering race of interstellar Huns."
"If nothing else, I doubt the Others would sit still for that. However, supposing it, why, I'd want to alert my species so we could ready our defenses."
Hancock gave Brodersen a pale smile. "That was my own offhand example. I admit it's not very plausible."
"Then feed me one that is."
She winced. "All right. Since you mentioned the Others-~-suppose there are none."
"Huh? Somebody built the T machines and lets us use them."
"Robots. When the first explorers reached the machine in the Solar System, the thing that spoke to them did not hide that it was only a robot. We've built up our whole concept of the Others from nothing more than what it said. Which is awfully little, Dan, if you stop to think. Suppose Emissary has brought back proof that we're wrong. That the Others are extinct. Or never existed. Or are basically evil. Or whatever you can imagine. You're a born heretic. You don't find any of this unthinkable, do you?"
"N-no. I do find it extremely unlikely. But supposing it for the sake of argument, what then?"
"You could keep your sanity. But you're an exceptional sort. Could humankind as a whole?"
"What're you getting at?"
Once more Hancock raised her tormented head to confront him. "You like to read history," she said, "and as an entrepreneur, you're a kind of practical politician. Must I spell out for you what it would mean, the shattering of our image of the Others?"
Brodersen's pipe had died. He resurrected it. "Maybe you must."
"Well, look, man." (He was oddly moved by the Americanism. They shared that background, though she came from the Midwest. And belle was born in Pennsylvania, he remembered. Where are you now, belle?) "When they found out what that strange object was, an actual T machine, and heard what the robot had to tell them, it may have been the greatest shock the human race has ever undergone-the whole human race. You had to take Jesus or Buddha on faith, and the faith spread slowly. But here, overnight, was direct proof that beings exist superior to us. Not merely in science and technology -no, what the Voice said indicated they were beyond us in their own selves. Angels, gods, whatever name you care to give. And seemingly benign but indifferent. We were told how to get from Sol to Phoebus and back; we were free to settle Demeter if we chose; the rest was left to us, including how to go onward from here."
"Yeah, sure," he encouraged her.
"Probably that was a large part of the shock: the indifference. Suddenly humans realized for a fact that they aren't anything special in the universe. But at the same time, there is something to aspire to. No wonder a million cults, theories, self assertions, outright lunacies sprang up. No wonder that after a while, Earth exploded."
"M-m-m, I wouldn't blame the Troubles entirely on the revelation," Brodersen said. "The balance that'd been reached earlier was almighty precarious. If anything, I think the idea of the Others helped keep everybody from running amuck-helped keep the real planet killer weapons from seeing over-much use-so Earth is still habitable."
"As you like," Hancock replied. "The point is, that idea has made a tremendous difference, maybe more than any traditional religion ever did."
She braced herself to go on: "Okay. Suppose the Emissary expedition learned it's a false idea. As I suggested, maybe the Others are dead, or moved elsewhere, or less than we think, or worse than we think. Let that news out with no forewarning, let hysterical commentators knock the foundations loose from under hundreds of millions of people, and what happens? The Union isn't firmly enough grounded that it can survive worldwide mania. And next time around, the planet-killers might well get unleashed.
"Dan," she begged, "do you see why we have to keep silence for a while?"
He puffed his pipe. "I'm afraid I'll need the details," he answered.
"But-"
"You admitted this was hypothetical, didn't you? Well, I don't buy the hypothesis. If the Others were monsters, we wouldn't be sitting here; we'd be wiped out, or we'd be domestic animals of theirs, or whatever. If they're extinct- hun, tell me how a species capable of building T machines is going to let itself become extinct. Nor do I imagine they're not better than us; with that kind of technology, wouldn't you improve your own race, supposing evolution had not already done it for you? And as for them collectively going off to live in some kind of parallel universe-why should they, when this one we've got is loaded with more fun than anybody can use up before the last star burns out?"
"I didn't claim any of those was the case," Hancock said. "I was only giving you some examples."
"Uh-huh. Ever heard of Occam's razor? I've shaved with it from time to time."
"Choose the simplest explanation for the facts."
"Right. And in this case, what is the simplest? I propose that Emissary did return; that the story she brought was of how we might go beyond these two planetary systems we have; that certain politicians on Earth don't like that possibility and want to suppress it; and that you, Aurie, have now gotten your marching orders. I imagine you agree in principle anyway. You belong to the Action Party."
Brodersen barked it forth. He might as well, his back to the wall of a decision already made; and perhaps he could provoke a little truth out of her who had become his enemy.
Yet he was jarred when she said in her coldest manner: "I consider that an insult, Captain Brodersen. But never mind. If you won't cooperate freely, we'll have to apply duress. You are not going to continue talking as you have been."
Chill rammed through him. He had come expecting that she would lay heavy pressure on him, but not a grabclaw. "Ever read the Covenant?" he asked low. "I mean the free speech clause."
"Have you read the provision for emergencies and the laws enacted under it?" she retorted, though he could see her hurting.
"Yeah. So?"
"I declare an emergency. Come back in five years and take the matter to court." Hancock reached for a fresh cigarette. "Dan," she stated unhappily, "I've got the cops, as you call them. Until we can agree about this business, you're under arrest."
She meant he would be confined to his home, his mail and phone monitored. Maybe she was sincere in her promise that her surveillance men would only activate their electronic eavesdroppers when he had visitors. He could conduct his business as usual from the house-these days, it mostly ran itself anyway- and could give whatever reason he chose, such as a prolonged attack of the galloping collywobbles, for not leaving the place. If he said it was on her orders, though, she'd tell the news media that he was being held while his company was investigated on suspicion of fraud.
She thought she could probably let him go in a month or two. That would depend on what she heard from Earth.
He didn't waste energy roaring. "You're being a government, Aurie," he remarked. When she gave him an inquiring glance, he explained: "The single definition of government I've ever seen that makes sense is that it's the organization which claims the right to kill people who won't do what it wants."
