Macroscope

He adjusted the image so as to watch Kovonov, life-sized. The man looked about almost furtively, then drew from his desk drawer a card. He set this on the table.

There was print on it. Skillfully now, Ivo centered on that print, clarified it, read it. It was not Russian!

S D P S

A message for him! Kovonov was trying to communicate!

After a minute the Russian put the card away and replaced the board. He resumed his sprouts doodling.

Could that be all? Where was the rest of it?

“So you claim the positions of the planets in the sky at the moment of my birth determine my fate, despite anything I might have to say about it.”

“By no means. I merely want you to concede the possibility of a relation between the configuration of the heavens at any particular moment and that of human affairs. It doesn’t have to be a causal relation, or even a consistent one. Just a relation.”

“You bastard,” she said without rancor, “you’ve got me halfway into your camp already.”

Bastard? Ivo thought. Was this the i

“Of course there’s a relation!” she continued irately. “There’s a relation between a grain of sand at the bottom of the Indian Ocean and my grandfather’s gold tooth. But it is hardly significant — and if it were, what proof do you have that your astrology can clarify it, when science can not?”

“Astrology is a science. It is built upon the scientific method and endures by it. The discipline is as rigorous as any you can name.”

“Geometry.”

“All right. How do you ‘prove’ the basic theorems of geometry?”

“Such as A = ½ BH, for a triangle? You’re the engineer. There must be a dozen ways to—”

“One will suffice. You’re thinking of making constructs and demonstrating that your One-times-Base-times-Height figure is the sum of congruent pairs of right-angle triangles, or something like that, correct? But how do you prove congruence? Don’t tell me angle-side-angle or side-side-side; I want to know how, in the ultimate definition, you prove your proofs. What is your true basis?”

“Well, you can’t have a strictly geometrical proof for the initial theorem, of course. You have to start with one assumption, then build logically from that. So we assume that if one angle between two measured sides is fixed, the entire triangle is fixed. It works perfectly consistently.”

“But what if it’s wrong?”

“It isn’t wrong. You can measure triangles full-time for a lifetime, and you’ll never find an exception.”

“Suppose I transfer side-angle-side from a flat surface to a torus?”

She almost spluttered. “You have to match surfaces. You know that.”

It seemed to Ivo that Groton had just scored another point, but for some reason the man didn’t follow it up.

“So experience is your guideline, then,” Groton said.

“Yes.”

“That’s the basis for astrology, too.”

“Experience? That the position of Mars determines man’s fate?”

“That the zodiacal configuration at a person’s birth indicates certain things about his circumstance and personality. Astrologers have been making observations and refining their techniques for many centuries — it is one of the most ancient of disciplines — until today the science is as close to accuracy as it has ever been. There is still much to learn, just as there is about geometry, but it is experience and not guesswork that modifies our application. I do not claim that the stars or planets determine your fate; I do suggest that your life is circumscribed by complex factors and influences, in much the same way as the motions of the planets and stars are circumscribed, and that the complex of your life and the complex of the universe may run in a parallel course. Astrology attempts to draw useful parallels between these two admittedly diverse areas, since what is obscure in one realm may be apparent in the other. In this way it may be possible to clarify aspects of your life that may not otherwise be properly understood. The one correspondence we can fix with any degree of certainty is the moment of birth, so we must use that as the starting point for the individual — but that is all it is. A starting point, just as your side-angle-side measurement is a possible starting point for the entire science of geometry. The difference is that astrology does not attempt to determine facts, since these are things you may ascertain for yourself. It reveals nothing that is hidden. Instead it facilitates the measure and judgment of what is actually encountered in experience.”

Ivo remembered the Senator’s distinction between truth and meaning in philosophy.

“That sounds closer to psychology than astronomy,” Afra said.

“It should. The relation between astronomy and astrology is entirely superficial. We depend upon the astronomers for measurements of planetary motions and such, but after that we part company. The metaphysical opinions of astronomers have no bearing on astrology; these gentlemen are simply not competent in that area, however competent they may be in their own field, that I admit they have mastered with a skill they have not even thought of applying to astrology. A good astrologer doesn’t need a telescope; he does need a sound grasp of practical psychology.”

Ivo had been watching Kovonov all this time, but there had been no other sign. It was time to get advice. “I hate to interrupt,” he said, “but I seem to be stalled.”

Afra came over. “I’m sorry. I let fantasy distract me and forgot all about you. What is it?”

Ivo described what had taken place in the torus.

“Obviously he is referring to the statuette,” she said.

It was amazing how stupid she could make him feel, how quickly. He dollied the image through the wall and down the hall to the common room.

The S D P S was gone, of course, but the pedestal remained. Upon it was a sheet of paper. An anonymous message, he realized, that could implicate no one. It was printed in teletype caps:

CRAFT ALERTED. PROCEEDING FROM MOONBASE THIS DATE 1300 TORUS TIME. ARMED. ACCELERATE WHEN ADVISED. URGENT.

“Oh, God, they are on our tail!” Afra snapped. “And here I’ve been wasting precious time on—”

“Armed?”

“That means a ship-mounted laser. Supposed to be top secret, but we all knew about it.”

“So there has been some poop-scooping.”

“In self-defense. Space is supposed to be free of weapons, and the UN enforces that — but Brad was suspicious of a UN-sponsored industrial complex on the moon. Ruinously inefficient location, with all supplies ferried up from Earth. So we peeked. Presumably it’s for good use — to keep the peace — but the UN is building a fleet that is very like an incipient armada. That space-borne laser is dangerous at indefinite range — as we may discover first-hand if we don’t behave.”

“Why don’t they burn us now, then? They must have us spotted.”

“Because they want to preserve the macroscope. You can be sure that if they officially dismantle it, there will be an unofficial remantling. An insidious group has obtained control of the UN space arm, or will obtain it; again, we only know because we… scooped. A fleet of ships and the macroscope — that’s about as real as power gets. That could have been what Borland was really investigating. He had the nose for that sort of thing.”

“And they would want to keep their laser secret,” Groton put in. “If they use it, everyone will know, and that will be sticky.”

“And because the only equipment precise enough to aim a beam that narrow accurately for that range is right here with us,” Afra said. “They’ll have to get pretty close before they can be sure of us with one burst, particularly if we’re maneuvering.”

Ivo was fazed by such political reality. “Why don’t they just broadcast an ultimatum to us?”