Timemaster Read online

  "Very nice," said Diisty Miller. "But suppose we shift the San Francisco one inland some ten or fifteen degrees."

  "Then everything else gets shifted on the globe the same amount," warned Randy. "I'll be glad to entertain any suggestions for arrangements of touchdown points, but don't forget, in order to make the Terravator pay, I've got to serve the whole world, not just the United States."

  "If the touchdown points are mostly over oceans," said Congressman Clyde Peterson, "how does one board them? From boats?"

  "Special airplanes," said Randy. "The end of the Terravator only dips into the upper atmosphere of the Earth. You use one of our high-flying capsule airplanes to go up to meet it. It transfers two capsules, usually one cargo and one passenger, to the end station on the Terravator at the same time it accepts two capsules to bring back down."

  "My technical staff says that when a disaster occurs on the Terravator, the debris will drop to the west," interjected Oscar. "That means that all of Jerseyork is in danger from the touchdown point in the ocean east of New York City."

  "If the Terravator has an accident, the debris will fall west," admitted Randy. "But, first of all, it is designed with high redundancy so that even if a large spacecraft collides with the cable, only a small fraction of the support strands will be severed. Second, even if something breaks, most of the debris will remain in orbit. Third, even if something falls in, most of it will be burned up in the atmosphere. Fourth, even if something falls to the Earth's surface, most of it will land in the oceans or unpopulated areas."

  "But there still could be a number of large pieces that land on Jerseyork," persisted Oscar.

  "Rockets from Canaveral are more likely to crash into Jerseyork than the Terravator," replied Randy, keeping a tight rein on his temper.

  "But the Terravator touches down twelve times a day, while we only fire rockets from Canaveral every few days," said Oscar. "The potential for disaster is dozens of times greater."

  "You mean the potential for low-cost access to space is dozens of times greater," retorted Randy.

  "I'm not going to take the responsibility for letting this whirlygig threaten these United States without protecting our populace," said Oscar. "I will inform the Secretary for the Environment that Congress insists on a full environmental-impact report on the effects of the operation of the Terravator on all parts of the United States and its territories."

  "That'll take forever!" Randy protested. "You can't do that! The Terravator is an orbiting spacecraft. It doesn't come under the jurisdiction of the Environment Department."

  "You yourself said it penetrates the atmosphere," said Oscar. "Anything that penetrates the atmosphere at high speed is certainly going to impact the environment, and we in Congress need to know what that impact is. In addition, we shall also require that liability insurance be in place before you go into operation."

  "I've already got liability insurance. It covers everything up to ten billion dollars," replied Randy.

  "Ten billion dollars in New York City will only buy you a few city blocks," said Oscar. "You will need liability insurance with no upper limit."

  "You're crazy!" exploded Randy. "No insurance company will issue such insurance."

  "And I don't want some dinky kid playing space-Tarzan over my district without full insurance!" Oscar shouted back.

  There was a shocked silence in the meeting room. Randy's face was dangerously solemn.

  "Very well, Mr. Barkham," he said slowly. "It is obvious that the Congress of the United States is not willing to take risks in order to expand our last frontier. I have explored a secondary option for the placing of spaceports around the Earth. You will be glad to know that if I use this constellation of ports, at no time does any portion of the Terravator touch the atmosphere above the United States or its territorial waters."

  Randy hopped down from his diamond crystal stool, collapsed it, and put it back into its case.

  "Where are you going!" demanded Oscar. "We're not through with you yet!"

  "Yes, you are," said Randy calmly. "Since my Terravator will be neither disturbing the United States nor serving it, I do not need your permission to operate it."

  "Not serving it!" Dusty Miller exclaimed.

  "In the secondary option, all of the touchdown points are at twenty-five degrees north or south of the equator," said Randy. He flashed his last image on the screen. It was an equatorial map of Earth unrolled into a wide band. There were bright-red blinking dots in the Australian outback, the ocean near Hong Kong, the Red Sea, the ocean off Namibia in South Africa, the ocean off Morocco in North Africa, the jungles outside Rio, and the lower Gulf of Mexico. "I will be contracting with the various equatorial countries for use of their airports for movement of passengers and cargo to the high-altitude touchdown points of the Terravator."

  "How come the touchdown point near Hawaii is pink instead of red?" asked Dusty, looking at the map.

  "Pink means no operations from that touchdown point. To service that point I would have to fly out of a U.S. airport on Hawaii. Can't do it." Randy raised his hands and shrugged. "Can't get the insurance ..." He turned to go.

  "Wait!" said Dusty. "If you're not going to operate out of Hawaii, then where do U.S. citizens go when we want to use the Terravator to get into space?"

  "Havana Airport," said Randy over his shoulder as he stalked out the gigantic committee-room doors.

  "Havana Airport!" exploded Dusty Miller. He turned to yell at Oscar. "Now you've done it, Oscar. Castro's nephew will be chortling in his rum over this. He'll want diplomatic relations, relaxation of sanctions, probably even aid, before he opens up his airports to U.S. travelers."

  "Well ..." said Oscar, trying to salvage something out of the mess he had made, "we could fly to Rio or Morocco instead."

  A low groan passed through the meeting room.

  RANDY next visited the Reinhold Research Laboratories to be briefed on the latest findings on the Silverhair and its magical gifts of negmatter spheres. The conference room was full as Randy walked in and took his seat at the end. There was a pause as the chair raised him up to table level. The first to speak was Hugh Smith, the acting director of the Laboratories ?when Randy wasn't there directing things himself. Hugh was a retired admiral who had kept the short haircut and full beard worn by men in the navy.

  "We have learned quite a bit during the month you were on vacation," said Hugh. "The prospector ship with the negmater drive that you returned with has already made three trips out and back with scientists and diagnostic equipment. Steve Wisneski has been the contact point for the laboratory, so I've asked him to summarize for you."

  Steve rose from a chair along the wall and went to stand at the head of the table in front of the display control console. A wry smile flickered under his twisting caterpillar mustache as he stood looking at his tiny boss at the other end of the table. Steve was a young theoretical genius who obviously resented working for someone younger than he. He was so good, however, that his supervisors and Randy tolerated his brash manner.

  "You sure are a lucky bastard, Randy," started Steve. "One ittle find, and you end up owning a space warp, a reactionless space drive, and a nearly infinite source of free energy."

  "Free energy?" Randy repeated, a little taken aback.

  "Yep," said Steve. "When negative matter and positive matter interact through long-distance forces, the negative matter gains negative kinetic energy, while the positive matter gains positive kinetic energy. Take a drop of highly charged negative matter, push on it with electric fields until it is going at nearly the speed of light, and in return you get electrical energy back. The only limit on the amount of energy you can get is how close to the speed of light you can push the negative matter before losing control of it."

  "That could cause a serious hazard," said Randy. "The whole solar system contaminated with high-speed negative-matter particles."

  "Simple solution," replied Steve. "Just direct the high-peed negative matter into a
beam stop. Generic dirt will do. The negmatter with all its negative kinetic energy will just disappear when it hits the dirt and nullifies."

  "Hmmm," said Randy. "Looks like I had better start an energy production division."

  "There's more than electrical or mechanical energy," said Steve. "There's also nuclear energy. The Silverhair has shown us it can be done, since it feeds that way, but we're still trying to figure out how it does it."

  "The Silverhair feeds on nuclear energy?" asked Randy. "That doesn't sound right. If I remember, there wasn't any significant gamma radiation around it when it was being fed from the plasma gun."

  "That's because it was using a negative nuclear reaction process," said Steve. "We finally found out why it likes iron. Iron is at the bottom of the nuclear energy curve. The Silverhair somehow breaks the iron nuclei into individual protons and neutrons."

  "But that requires energy," interrupted Randy, puzzled.

  "Exactly," said Steve with a broad, superior smile. "While the iron nuclei are gaining positive nuclear energy by 'un-fusion', the Silverhair is gaining negative nuclear energy. It uses that negative energy to make the complex negative-matter molecules it needs to maintain itself and grow."

  "What are those silver spheres of nonliving negative matter that it emits?" asked Randy. "Does it need them? I hope not, as I could sure use as many as I can get."

  "They seem to be inert drops of negative-matter particles with no molecular structure and with most of the negative energy taken out of them," said Steve. "If I were a negative-matter biologist, I'd call them the Silverhair's equivalent of shit." He laughed at the gasps that arose around the conference room.

  "If you don't mind the idea of being called a shit collector, Randy," said Steve, still chuckling, "I'm sure the Silverhair doesn't mind you cleaning up after it."

  Randy started to chuckle too. "For free energy and reactionless drives you can call me anything you like," he said. "What's the status of the negmatter-drive development program?"

  "Hiroshi Tanaka has completed the preliminary design of a second-generation negative-matter space drive," said Steve. "As you requested, it can propel a much larger spacecraft, one ultimately suitable for rapid interstellar flight. The major new feature is that the ship contains one of the Silverhair buds electrostatically suspended in a vacuum chamber in the hold. The Silverhair bud will provide a space-warp connection from the spacecraft to another Silverhair bud left behind around Earth."

  "There are more than two Silverhairs now?" exclaimed Randy.

  "Siritha has learned how to bud new Silverhairs at will," said Steve. "Each bud seems to be able to grow as large as the first one we found. We have already used them to demonstrate long-distance warp transport of small objects over many kilometers. The Silverhair space warp seems to work fine, except after about eighteen hours the Silverhairs at each end start to call plaintively for their trainers to come and feed them. If they aren't fed, they give up and pull their bodies back through the wormhole. Without the negative matter of the Silverhair body in the wormhole throat to keep it open, the warp closes up."

  "That doesn't sound like a very reliable device to have on an interstellar spacecraft," said Randy.

  "Reliable enough," said Steve. "Once a day you just shut down the drive for a half hour, and while you're coasting in free-fall the Silverhair can float free from its suspension system. You feed the Silverhair and play games with it to keep it happy, then put it back in the suspension system so you can start up the drive again."

  "Play games with it?" asked Randy in disbelief.

  "Well, besides dancing, it loves to play peekaboo, zap-the-trainer, and poof-ball," said Steve.

  "This is getting ridiculous!" Randy groaned.

  "It'll behoove you to stay on the good side of it," said Steve, smiling. "Especially when you're sliding through the space warp in its belly." He paused to look thoughtfully at his boss. "You know, with your small size, you'd be the ideal candidate for the first human warp transfer. The bigger the object, the harder the Silverhair has to work to transfer it. That is, if you aren't scared ..."

  "Being scared has nothing to do with it, Mr. Wisneski," said Randy, turning boss. "Tell me more about the space-warp experiments."

  "Well, as you demonstrated with the tape measure," said Steve, "the Silverhairs are interconnected through a space warp, and it's possible to go through one and out the other. The distance through the inside is smaller than the distance around the outside. In fact, it's near zero."

  "Zero?" echoed Randy.

  "As near zero as we can measure it. The length of the warp tunnel starts out about equal to the size of one of the Silverhairs, and doesn't grow at all as the two ends of the warp get farther apart. Effectively, it's instantaneous transport—a space warp from one point in space to another. The two Silverhairs are not equivalent, however; one is the older Silverhair and the other is the younger one that budded from it."

  "How do you tell them apart?" asked Randy.

  "It's not possible to tell just by looking," Steve admitted. "If you initiate a warp through the younger bud, the warp always comes out the older Silverhair. But if you initiate a warp through the older Silverhair, it doesn't come out the younger one, but out the even older Silverhair from which it budded previously."

  Randy stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Hmmm ... And if you initiate a warp in the very first Silverhair?"

  "It comes out somewhere else," Steve answered. "We don't know where yet, but Elena Polikova is working on it." He paused. "There is something else you should know about these space warps. If you handle them right, you can make a time machine."

  "A time machine!" said Randy in amazement.

  "Yep." Steve flashed a sly smile. "All you have to do is take one of your Silverhair pets on a short relativistic ride in one of your magic negmatter-drive ships, bring it back to sit next to its partner on the other end of the space warp, and you have built yourself a time machine. A fast journey of, say, a few light-weeks will make the traveling Silverhair a week younger than the stay-at-home Silverhair. Then, all you have to do to make a killing on the stock market is to warp through the younger Silverhair into next week, buy a copy of the Wall Street Journal, then warp back into the past to place your orders with your broker."

  "I don't believe that," Randy murmured, frowning.

  "It's true," said Steve. "The theory was worked out long ago."

  "But suppose I met myself in the future?" asked Randy. "Would I annihilate myself or something?"

  "Probably nothing will happen," said Steve. "Unless you tried to do something foolish like shoot yourself."

  "Probably?" repeated Randy. "You mean you don't know what will happen?"

  "There are some theories ..." Steve replied hesitantly, "but not much work has been done on them since the 1990s. No one believed that time machines would ever be possible, so work on the theories dropped out of style."

  "What did the theories predict?" asked Randy.

  "Once any time machine starts operating, the whole future of the universe is constrained so that events happening around the time machine are consistent. For instance, the universe will arrange itself so you can't go back in time to kill yourself, no matter how hard you try."

  "Are you sure?" asked Randy.

  "No," Steve admitted. "That's just what the theory predicts."

  "If we're not sure, then we're not going to mess with time machines," said Randy firmly. "I don't want to go down in history as the man who loused up the entire future history of the universe by opening up a Pandora's time box." He turned to look around the room at everyone. "I want you all to understand that we will only use these space warps for moving through space. Any employee found trying to use them to meddle with time will be fired and reported to the proper authorities."

  "But think of all the money you could make with just a one-day time machine ..." protested Steve.

  "I don't need to cheat to make money." Randy dismissed the topic. "Now ... continue wit
h your report on the space warp tests."

  "Well, Siritha has managed to bud off a number of new Silverhairs and we now know enough to attempt the first transfer of a human."

  Randy turned to look at Hugh. "When will a test be ready?"

  "They're preparing for it now, out in the asteroid belt," said Hugh. "It's mostly a matter of getting the test diagnostic instrumentation ready and into position at both ends."

  "Schedule me for the next flight out," said Randy.

  "You needn't bother, Mr. Hunter," said Hugh. "Siritha is quite small, and has already volunteered to be the first human through."

  "Siritha may be small ..." said Randy, lowering his chair and getting out of it, "but I'm smaller. I'll go first." He walked across the conference room and paused at the door. "I'll be home packing. Give me a call when the ship is ready."

  "Yes, Mr. Hunter," Hugh sighed, knowing it was useless to argue with Randy when he was in this mood.

  "WE ARE ready to start, Siritha," said Hiroshi Tanaka. "Is the Silverhair ready?"

  <> murmured the Silverhair to itself.

  "I've got it on waltz music," said Siritha. "And it's responding normally. If you're ready, I'll warn it to expect a probe to open up the warp."

  "What do you use?" asked Randy. "The fancy equivalent of a tape measure?"

  "Used to," said Siritha. "But occasionally we would goof and touch the Silverhair—hurting it. We use a laser beam now." She changed the music from a waltz to a synthesized warning signal that sounded like a siren wail. A slight distance away, Hiroshi Tanaka flicked a switch on an inertially stabilized instrument package. A laser on the front of the package gave off a red glow. A large red spot showed up on the side of the Silverhair a short distance away. Hiroshi adjusted some knobs, and the red spot started to shrink in size while gaining in intensity. As the spot grew smaller, the Silverhair developed a depression as if the light beam were a physical probe.