“Well, you’ve certainly created some attention,” Sariena said. “Let’s hope it’s a good omen for the talks.”
“We can but try,” Keene said.
“So what brought you to Washington so soon? Was the President so impressed that he wants you to put together a real space program for them at last?”
“I wish.” Keene sipped his Scotch and saw that Cavan was watching them inconspicuously from across the room. “As a matter of fact, somebody wanted me to talk to you while I was here. Not the President, but it was to do with your mission.” Sariena waited, curious. Keene looked around. The suite was in the penthouse, with an exterior balcony all the way around. “Let’s go outside,” he suggested. “Gallian says you need to get used to the air.”
Sariena rose and moved toward one of the sliding glass panels that had been opened. Keene picked up a chair and followed her along the balcony to a corner, away from the others who were outside talking. Keene placed the chair by the wall and leaned an elbow on the rail while Sariena sat down. He began: “The person that I mentioned is on the inside here. And I’ve seen something myself today of what reactions are going to be.” He shook his head. “Earth isn’t going to buy this line about Venus being an earlier Athena. Yes, Athena happened and the standard theories were wrong. Nobody can deny that. But they’re going to fight any suggestion that the two have anything in common. As far as they’re concerned Venus is a planet and moves like a planet. Athena is a one-time anomaly that will be a spectacle for a year until it leaves the Solar System. . . .” Keene paused, thinking for a second that Sariena wasn’t listening. She was sitting back against the window glass, staring up at the sky with a faraway, almost rapturous expression.
“I love stars,” she said.
Keene looked away and turned his head upward. “Polli told me we don’t have any,” he replied. It was a clear night, not bad by Washington standards. The angle of the walls faced roughly north, making just a wisp of Athena’s tail visible behind the building to their left. It only occurred to Keene then that until the last couple of days, Sariena’s only recollections of seeing a sky had probably been from inside some kind of enclosure or a helmet.
“Paltry,” she agreed. “But you know that, Lan. You’ve been out there too. . . . But what you’ve never seen is Saturn from one of its moons. This sky has nothing to compare with it. Pictures don’t come close—any more than they can show sunshine. It’s like . . .” She turned her face up again. “All the rainbows you’ve ever seen stirred together into a glowing ball ten times as big as the Moon. And you’re looking at it across the rings seen edge-on. It seems to be floating in a golden ocean that extends away into the sky. If you’re on one of the moons that has a tilted orbit, the ocean seems to be rising and falling.” Sariena looked back at him. “Did you know that there are many legends from the distant past—before the beginnings of our literate age, like those people that Catherine was talking about—that make Saturn the greatest god in the sky and describe it as rising out of an ocean? Isn’t that strange? It’s almost as if they’d seen it too.” Keene frowned at the city lights, searching for a way of turning the subject back to more immediate matters. “Can you pick out Saturn in the sky?” Sariena asked him.
“Er, no. . . . I guess not. It isn’t really one of my things.”
“Not many people can—nor any of the other planets. And isn’t that strange too? They’re such insignificant pinpoints that most people can’t even find them. And yet in just about every system of religion and myth from times gone by, they filled people with awe and terror and were associated with gods fighting titanic battles in the sky—mightier even than the Sun and Moon. Why would that be?” Sariena went on before Keene could respond, “Because the planets moved in different orbits then, that brought them much closer.”