Omega

But Hutch never got used to it. “Are you suggesting,” she asked, “that we should give an IQ test before rescuing someone, or something, in trouble?”

“Not at all. By all means, we should help anyone if we can reasonably do it. And the Goompahs do look worth saving. But I think you’re facing a no-win situation.”

That surprised her. “How do you mean?”

“You’ll probably have to break the Protocol to do anything for them. I mean, you’re even going to be shipping relief supplies. How do you possibly get them to these creatures without a

Tor nodded reluctantly. “He’s probably right, Hutch.”

She looked at Mac across the top of her wineglass. And then leveled her gaze at her husband. “What would you two have me do? Just ignore them? Let them die by the thousands and not lift a finger?”

For a time no one spoke. Maureen looked at her oddly, as if Mommy had misbehaved. Babe the kitten came over and tried to chew on her ankle.

“I take it,” said Mac, “that there really is no way of shutting down the cloud?”

“None that we’ve been able to figure out. There’s never been enough money to fund a serious effort.”

Mac laughed. “But there’s enough money to underwrite the farming industries. And to provide tax breaks for General Power and Anderson & Goodbody.” He growled. “The truth is that it’s hard to justify spending money on a hazard that’s so far off, Hutch. Or that’s threatening somebody else. Still, I can understand the reluctance.”

She knew that. Mac had remained silent while major pundits laughed at Senator Blasingame, when he’d put together a bill demanding an extensive effort to find a way to neutralize the omegas. Blasingame had even made Hal Bodley’s a

“We could have used you,” she said.

“Hutch, the sun’s going to expand in a few billion years and wipe out all life on Earth. Maybe we should do something about that, as well.”

“Try to keep it serious, Mac,” she said.

“Okay.” He emptied his glass, trundled out to the kitchen, and came back with a refill. It was an uncomfortable moment, and Hutch suspected she shouldn’t have said anything, but damn it, Mac’s point of view was shortsighted. Maureen got a pulltoy out and she and the kitten retreated into the den.

Rachmaninoff’s Concerto Number Two was playing softly in the background. Light swept briefly through the window as a flyer descended onto the landing pad they shared with the Hoffma

“It strikes me,” Mac said, easing back into his chair, “that it’s not true. Or at least, it’s not a universal truth.”

“What isn’t, Mac?”

“That cultures get swamped when they encounter a more developed civilization.”

“Can you name an exception?”

“Sure,” he said. “India.”

“They weren’t swamped,” said Tor. “But they were taken over.”

“That doesn’t count. The Brits at the time were imperialists. That wouldn’t apply on Lookout. But my point is that Indian culture survived pretty well. The essentials, their music, their marital patterns, their self-image, didn’t change at all.”

“What about the Native Americans?”

He smiled. “It’s a myth, Hutch. They didn’t collapse because they were faced with an intrinsically stronger culture. They were beaten down by a superior military. And maybe because their own cultural habits wouldn’t allow them to unite.

“Priscilla, if I felt the way you do, I wouldn’t mess around with all these half measures.”

“What would you do, Mac?”

“I’d send the Peacekeepers out there and get them all out of the cities when the damned thing gets close. Get them behind rocks or in caves or whatever else they have until it passes. It only takes a day or so, right?”

“Mac, I can’t do that.”

“Then you don’t have the courage of your convictions.”

She glanced over at Tor. He was shaking his head at her. You know better than to take Mac seriously. Relax. Let it go.

“There is this,” pursued Mac. “If you called out the troops, you’d have the satisfaction of knowing you gave it your best shot.”

Maureen had finished her cookie, leaving crumbs everywhere. Hutch let her head drift back for a moment, then got up and took Maureen’s hand. “Time for bed, Mo.”

“Too early, Mommy,” said the child, who began to fill up. She hated going to bed when they had company. She especially liked Mac. What on Earth was there about him that a child could love?

“We’ll read for a while,” she said. “Say good night to Uncle Mac.”

Maureen made a sad face at Mac. “Good night, Uncle Mac,” she said. And she reached for him, and kissed his cheek.

“Good night, darling,” said Mac.

HUTCH COULD HEAR them chattering away downstairs while she read to Maureen. Be

They were talking about Paxon Carbury’s latest novel, Morley Park. It had gotten strong reviews, and Tor had liked it, but Mac was consigning it to the unwashed. “It’s just more adultery in the suburbs,” he said.

And that seemed to settle it. Tor made a few objections, tried to explain what he had liked about the book, then backed off. Mac asked Hutch whether she’d read it.

“No,” she said. “I’ve been a little pressed lately.”

In the background, the commlink chimed. Hutch excused herself and went into the dining room. “Who is it, George?”

“Academy watch officer,” said the AI.

She was begi

“Yes, Charlie, what have you got?”

“You wanted to hear anything that came in on the hedgehogs.”

“What happened?”

“They found another one.”

“Who?”

“The Santiago. We don’t have any details yet. But it’s begi

“Yes, Charlie, I think you’re right. Thanks. Let me know if you hear anything else.”

“There is something else.”

“Yes?”

“We don’t think the hedgehogs and the clouds are actually ru

“Oh? I didn’t think any questions had been raised about that.”

“They hadn’t. The difference is so slight, it’s hard to detect. Even now, we’re not really certain. But it looks as if the hedgehogs are moving a bit slower.”

“How much?”

“Almost too little difference to measure. It’s why we didn’t pick it up at first. I mean, a cloud’s not a solid object, so you don’t really get—”

“How much difference, Charlie?”

“The escorts are slower by between four and five meters an hour.”

“All of them?”

“Two of them. We’re still trying to get measurements on the others.”

SHE DIDN’T KNOW what to make of it. It didn’t sound especially important until she found herself telling Tor and Mac about it. And suddenly the lights went on and a chill ran through the room. “Dumb,” she said, breaking into the middle of a sentence.

“What is?” asked Tor.

“Me. I am.”

“In what way, Priscilla?” said Mac.

“You know about the tewks. We think they all happen where there are clouds.”

“And—?”

“If each cloud has a hedgehog, and each hedgehog is ru

“Oh,” said Mac.

“The escorts are exactly the sort of things that the clouds seem to want to attack. Lots of right angles. Couple hundred of them.”

Tor was nodding. “They’re designated targets.”

“I think so,” she said. “Has to be.”

Mac couldn’t accept the idea. “Not at those rates of closure. You’re talking a couple of thousand years before the clouds catch the damned things.”

“But what’s the point?” asked Tor. “I don’t get it.”

She reactivated her link. “Charlie?”

“Yes, Hutch?”

“Contact Serenity. Tell Audrey the hedgehogs may be triggers.”

“Triggers?”

“Right. They go boom. And they initiate something.”

“Like what?”

“Like a tewk. Listen, I’ll be in touch with her tomorrow. Meantime, I want her to start looking at sending a mission to push one of the damned things into a cloud. See what happens.”

“I’ll tell her.”

“Explain that we’ll want the whole thing done by robot. Nobody is to go anywhere near any part of the operation. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll pass it on.”

She switched off. “When you talk to her tomorrow—” said Tor.

“Yes—?”

“Tell her to pick a cloud that’s well away from anybody’s neighborhood.”

LIBRARY ENTRY

The stores are filling up with Goompah dolls, and we are becoming increasingly aware of the existence of these terminally cute off-world wobblies. Children ca

It may be necessary to lay the Noninterference Protocol aside. Indeed, it’s hard to see how we can go to their rescue without doing so. But it would help if we defined the exception as a one-time only affair. Make it clear that we are not setting a precedent, and draw a line across which interested manufacturers, religious groups, charitable organizations, trading companies, and everybody else who’d like to use these creatures to play out their own fantasies and ambitions, may not venture.

— Gregory MacAllister

“How’s the Jihad Going?”

Lost on Earth Interview, Monday, March 17

chapter 11

On board the Jenkins, in orbit around Lookout.

Tuesday, March 18.

…Be advised that your primary objective is to get the job done. If you find it necessary to set the Protocol aside, this constitutes your authority to do so…

…Collect and run analyses of food samples…

…Time is of the essence. In view of the lag between Lookout and your other points of contact, you are free to use discretion.

IN FACT, JACK didn’t like the idea of using discretion. Not in this kind of situation. It was purely political. No matter what he did, and how things turned out, he would be criticized. Any blame to be assigned would come his way, and credit would go to the Second Floor at the Academy. He’d been around too long not to know how these things worked.