Brad and Felicia returned to the starship in orbit around Gamma at Kosoff’s insistence.
“Another damned meeting,” Brad grumbled as they stepped through the shuttle’s air lock hatch and into the starship’s receiving bay.
Compared to their quarters down on the planet, even Odysseus’s receiving bay was posh. Carpeted floor, floor-to-ceiling display screens, automated sensor arches that swiftly checked their physical conditions as they passed through them. Quiet luxury, Brad thought, every step of the way.
“You are cleared for entry,” said Emcee’s warm voice, emanating from the speaker grille built into the sensor arch. “Welcome back.”
Brad thought this trip to the starship was going to be pretty much a waste of time, but he answered with, “It’s good to be back, Emcee.”
Felicia did the same.
* * *
“The reason for this meeting,” Kosoff said, “is to make a final decision about the octopods of planet Alpha.”
Brad, Felicia, Olav Pedersen, and Ursula Steiner sat in Kosoff’s office, in the comfortable faux leather chairs arranged before his desk. Emcee’s seated image filled the holographic display on the office’s side wall.
Pedersen said, “It’s quite clear: Alpha is orbiting so close to Mithra that its ocean will boil away eventually—unless we provide some protection for the planet.”
“And how long is eventually?” Kosoff asked.
Brad knew the professor’s question was strictly for the recording being made of the meeting.
As expected, Pedersen answered, “On the order of a million years, perhaps a bit less.” With a slight shake of his head he added, “A long time by human standards, of course, but an eyeblink in the course of a planet’s lifetime.”
Kosoff nodded. “The energy screen generators that will shield the planet from the death wave can also protect it from Mithra’s heat.”
Emcee nodded in acknowledgment. “The energy screen can be tuned to absorb some of the star’s incoming radiation.”
“Like a sun shield,” Kosoff said.
Emcee replied, “A partial sun shield.”
Kosoff turned to Felicia. “I was a bit surprised to find that you are the leading expert on the octopods, Dr. Portman.”
With a self-effacing dip of her chin, Felicia replied, “That’s because all the other biologists have been busy working on the Gammans and their planetary biosphere.”
Brad noticed that Pedersen looked uncomfortable with the idea that Felicia was almost on an equal rank with himself. Steiner, cool as usual, said nothing. But her knowing little smile told Brad that she found the situation amusing.
Kosoff asked Felicia, “So how would the octopods react to our sinking a half-dozen generators into their ocean?”
With a tiny shrug, she replied, “They probably wouldn’t react at all. The problem with the octopods is that they are intelligent enough to realize that their habitat is shrinking—their ocean is warming noticeably—but they have no way of changing things. They are accepting their fate because they can’t do anything to change it.”
“They have no technology.”
“None.”
Steiner spoke up. “They seemed quite curious about the sensor pods when we first put them into the sea to study them. But when the pods didn’t react to their questions, or even to their touching them with their tentacles, they just ignored the pods and went about their business as if they weren’t there.”
Unconsciously stroking his beard, Kosoff said, “They decided that the pods were neither food nor danger, so they could be safely ignored.”
“That’s about the size of it,” Steiner replied.
Straightening up in his chair, Kosoff said in a louder, firmer voice, “So we can drop the generators into their ocean without harming them.”
“I believe so,” said Steiner.
Focusing on Felicia, Kosoff asked, “Do you agree?”
She hesitated a heartbeat, then answered, “The only question in my mind is whether the energy that the generators emit might harm them in any way.”
“Impossible,” Kosoff said flatly. “The generators have been thoroughly tested on Earth. They produce no harmful biological effects.”
“On human cells,” Felicia pointed out. “We don’t really know that much about the octopods’ biology.”
“I wanted to obtain a few specimens for study,” Steiner pointed out. “For dissection and thorough examination.”
“And we decided against it,” said Kosoff. “Maybe we should review that decision.”
“Wait,” Brad objected. “Why do we have to sink the generators into Alpha’s ocean? Why not put them in orbit around the planet? Then there’s no question of biological interactions.”
Kosoff’s brows knit, but he said, “I suppose that’s a possibility.”
“It would be safer,” Felicia said.
“And there’d be no question of the ocean absorbing some of the generators’ energy output,” Brad pointed out.
Steiner protested, “But we would miss the chance to study how the energy generators affect the alien biology.”
Pedersen started to speak, thought better of it, and clamped his lips shut.
“I agree with you, Ursula,” said Kosoff. “It seems a shame to waste such an opportunity.”
Brad disagreed. “Look. Are we here to do some esoteric biology experiments or to save an alien species from extinction?”
“If you put it that way…”
“That’s the way it is,” Brad insisted. “We’re dealing with a life-or-death situation for those octopods. They may not have the means to save themselves from extinction but we do! We have a responsibility to protect them as well as we can.”
“Shall we vote on it?” Kosoff asked.
“No,” said Brad. “Let’s review the mission protocols first.”
Kosoff gaped at him. “The mission protocols? You want to refer to the mission protocols?”
With a tight grin, Brad said, “Yes.”
Kosoff let out a theatrical sigh. “All right. Emcee, what do the protocols have to say about this?”
Without a nanosecond’s hesitation, the master computer’s avatar replied, “Species survival is this mission’s number-one priority. All other goals are secondary, including scientific investigations of alien biology.” Its image looking very humanly apologetic, Emcee added, “Sorry, Dr. Steiner.”
Steiner’s brows knit, but she said with something approaching good grace, “We must follow the protocols, of course.”
Kosoff glared across his desk at Brad. “The devil can quote scripture when it suits his purpose.”
Very seriously, Brad replied, “When it suits the mission protocols.”