politics.”
“No, sir. Except that the Ahannu had surrendered. Earth was eight-and-a-half light-years away, and the EU–Brazilian military expedition was due to show up in another five months. Do you think they would have tried to guarantee the safety of the Sag-ura?”
“Probably not. Especially since they have PanTerran connections as well.” Foss cleared his throat. “The point, Colonel, is that you did overstep yourself by making the decisions you did. But that’s not why I called you in here.”
Ramsey worked to control his anger. “Yes, sir.”
“There is widespread suspicion that MIEU-1 was working with the EU on Ishtar.”
“Reasonable enough. We were. Under orders.”
“Indeed. And by brokering that agreement with the natives and creating that sag-uran state, whatever it’s called …”
“Dumu-gir Kalam, sir.”
“Whatever. You did steal a march on the EU. They couldn’t very well abrogate treaties you’d written and signed, not without an incident and some very bad press back home.”
“So the Accord is holding up?”
“Has for the ten years since you left, Colonel, yes. As for the future? Who knows? The EU have established a diplomatic mission on Ishtar, now.”
“So they’re playing by the rules, at least.”
“For now. But my concern is what’s happening on this planet. On Earth. Specifically, we have people—both in the government and ordinary Joes and Janes on the streets—who think you were somehow collaborating with the EU on Ishtar. And they know that the EU brought you back to Earth on one of their transports.”
“Well, it was that or have us stay there with them.”
“It was decided to have MIEU-1 return to Earth, Colonel. Protecting UFR interests on Ishtar is the Army’s job now.” An Army occupational force consisting of elements of the First Extrasolar Special Operations Group had accompanied the EU and Brazilian joint expedition. “However, that has caused some serious problems for us here.”
“My men are loyal, General,” Ramsey said through clenched teeth. “You can’t lock them away without a fair hearing.”
Foss sighed. “Colonel, it’s not just the loyalty question. You should know that. The Ahannu are the focus of the biggest religious brouhaha since Adam and Eve got their eviction notice in Eden. Some people think they are gods—or the descendents of gods—and that our proper place is at their feet, worshipping them.”
“Crackpots.”
“Some think they’re demons and think it’s wrong to have any political dealings with them at all. Some think they’re the underdogs, poor, misunderstood little primitives, and the big, bad Marines are out to commit high-tech genocide. Some think they’re your stereotypical bug-eyed monsters lusting after human females, slave masters who must be punished. The Papessa is saying the Ahannu ought to be stopped from keeping slaves. The Anti-Pope is saying we have to treat the Ahannu as friends and equals and to respect their traditions. The list goes on and on.
“The point is, Colonel, you and your people have come back to Earth at a rather sensitive time. You can’t help but be caught up in the politics—and the religious controversy. You’ve just stepped off the boat, Colonel, and smack into quicksand.”
“If you’re looking for a scapegoat, General, you’re free to take a shot at me. I’ll fight it, but you can try. But it is a monstrous injustice to blame the men under my command for—”
“No one is blaming them, Colonel. Or you. But I needed to make sure you understood the … ah … delicate nature of your position here.”
“You’ve got my attention, sir. That’s for damned sure.”
“We have a new situation, one that calls for MIEU-1’s special, um, talents.”
“Another deployment, General?”
He nodded. “Another deployment.”
“To where?”
“To Sirius. Eight-point-six light-years out. The brightest star in Earth’s night sky.”
That pricked Ramsey’s interest. “The Wings of Isis, sir? She found something?”
“Link in, Colonel, and I’ll fill you in with what we know.”
Ramsey closed his eyes and felt the familiar inner shiver as data began to flow, downloading through his cereblink.
Visual: A wedding band adrift in space. Two stars, arc-brilliant and dazzling to look at, hung in the distance, suspended against wispy clouds of hazy light.
“These images were laser-transmitted to us as they were being made,” Foss said. “They arrived two years ago. The star on the left is Sirius A. The other is Sirius B, the white dwarf. And the Wheel. …”
Visual: The NetCam zooms in and the structure is revealed to be enormous. Data scrolls down one side of the visual, indicating dimensions and mass. The structure is titanic, twenty kilometers across, but massing as much as a small start. The density of the thing—better than 6 × 1018 grams per cubic centimeter—is astonishing.
“An alien artifact?”
Foss nodded.
“What is it? A space station? A space habitat of some kind?”
“No. At least … we don’t think so.”
“That density reading,” Ramsey said, examining the data. “That can’t be right.”
“According to gravitometric scans made by the Wings of Isis, it is,” Foss replied.
“Neutronium? Collapsed matter?”
“The density’s not that high. Most of that thing is actually hollow. But we think we know what’s going on. Think of that hoop as a kind of particle accelerator, like the hundred-kilometer supercollider at Mare Humorum on the moon.”
“Okay. …”
“Now imagine, instead of subatomic particles, what you have whirling around inside that giant racetrack are tiny black holes. And they’re moving at close to the speed of light.”
“Black holes? My God, why?”
“Best guess is that what we’re looking at here is an inside-out Tipler Machine.”
“A what?”
“Here’s the data.”
Frank Tipler had been a prominent physicist at the turn of the twenty-first century. Among other things, he’d suggested the mechanism for a means of bypassing space, of jumping from here to there without the tedious
