Keene put on a mock pained look. “If I didn’t know you better, I might think you didn’t believe me.”
“How can you say that? You know I have undying trust.”
“And I have an image of mystique to keep up. You know how the guru thing works: always promise nirvana tomorrow.”
Vicki turned her eyes resignedly toward the ceiling and changed the subject. “Did I hear you say they’re actually giving you tomorrow morning off to rest up?”
“The galley slaves have to get some air sometime,” Keene replied. “Les has got a press conference fixed for the afternoon.”
“You want to stop by for a late breakfast at the house on your way in? Robin has been asking after you. I think he wants to show you some of the latest that he’s been getting into.”
Keene rubbed his chin. “Sure, why not? . . . So how is Robin?”
“Just fine.”
“What’s he been getting into this time?”
“Dinosaurs. Apparently they couldn’t have existed.”
“Oh, really? A mass hallucination, then. . . . So how come?”
“It gets involved. Why not ask him tomorrow?”
“Okay.”
Vicki searched her mind for anything else. “Did you talk to Sariena? I was at Kingsville when they redirected the call from the Osiris. That was just after your spot with John Feld ended.”
“Yes, I got it,” Keene replied. “She just wanted to let us know that Gallian was happy with the way things went; also, that they’d be on their way down to the surface pretty soon.”
“They’re down,” Vicki said. “It was on the news this afternoon—while you were at the debriefing. Big reception dinner at the White House tonight. Everybody who thinks they’re somebody is going to have to be there.” She tossed a hand out in a motion indicating both of them. “So how come we didn’t get invitations?”
“We left the rarified academic heights, don’t you remember? People would probably worry that we might show up in coveralls, carrying wrenches.” Keene rubbed his chin. “We could stop for a quick one while it’s still happy hour at the Bandana,” he offered. “Not exactly black tie, but do you think it would do instead?”
Vicki smiled and gave a snort. “The company might be an improvement, though—I’ll say that.” She stretched, held the position for a few seconds, then relaxed. “So never mind the pageantry over the weekend. How will things go when they get down to the real talking? Any guesses? . . . I know we’ve got a lot of the world’s attention, but is it really going to take any notice? I mean, okay, Athena’s there. But most people are treating it like a spectator sport, not something that actually connects to their lives. Are the Kronians going to be able to change that?”
“They must think they stand a chance, otherwise they’d hardly have come this far.” Keene showed his palms briefly. “All they have to do is get the powers that shape science in this world to see the obvious.”
“Wow,” Vicki said dryly. “Now I really feel better.”
Kronia’s scientists had reached the conclusion that the conventional picture of a stable and orderly Solar System repeating its motions like clockwork since the time of its formation, was—simply put—wrong. Cataclysmic encounters between planetary and other bodies had, they maintained, occurred through into recent historic times, and there was no reason to suppose that such events would not continue. The Kronian leaders accepted this view and for years had been exhorting Earth to put a greater investment of effort and resources into spreading a significant human presence across the Solar System. For as long as the human race remained concentrated in one place, they insisted, it was vulnerable, literally, to extinction. In fact, they claimed it had almost happened in the not very distant past.
But Earth’s institutions remained wedded to their dogma of gradualism, which maintained that only the processes observed today had operated in the past, and, apart from temporary local fluctuations, had done so at the same rates. Extrapolating backward the currently measured rates of such processes as sedimentation and erosion had yielded the immense ages assigned to geological formations, which had come to be regarded as unquestionable.