“We brought you a lot more than just the data from the probes,” Sariena said from beside Gallian. Her face seemed flushed, even with her dark complexion. It was the first time that Keene had seen her registering anger. “Tangible evidence that you can hold in your hand. Was that supposed to be `alleged’? Did we imagine it? Is that not verifiable enough for you, Professor Voler? Tell us. What else would it take to convince you?”
Voler raised his head sharply and swung to face the hall in a way that said they had just heard something important, so that by the time he turned back toward the dais the room had fallen quiet. There was something triumphant in his manner, as if he had been leading up to this moment all along. Keene sensed that some unexpected turn was about to take place.
“Ah yes, the tangible evidence,” Voler repeated. He surveyed the room again, and then walked back to where he had been sitting, while the Kronians exchanged questioning frowns. Voler stooped to lift into view a large cardboard box about two feet along a side and set it down on the table. From it he produced an object wrapped in black cloth, which he uncovered and held aloft to reveal as what appeared to be a broken flake of brown rock, perhaps an inch thick and roughly the size of a dinner plate but with one straight side terminating at a distinct corner. “I assume we’re talking about these.” The Kronians looked horrified. Gallian started to protest, but Voler waved his other hand. “Oh, don’t worry. This is just a plastic replica. The originals are in safekeeping, naturally.” He moved back below the dais and turned to face the hall again. Sariena caught Keene’s eye but Keene could only shake his head.
“Some of you know about these already,” Voler said. “A public announcement was due to be made this week, so I don’t think I’ll be giving anything away if I bring the essence of it forward a little. Briefly, this is one of a number of objects that, we are told . . .” he paused and turned his head to look up at Keene pointedly for a moment ” . . . were discovered in the ice of Saturn’s moon, Rhea, around six months ago. They are clearly artifacts from an intelligent culture, and several of them carry samples of a distinct written script and other symbolic markings. . . .” Astonished gasps began breaking out immediately, but Voler raised his voice and concluded, “Holographic images were sent ahead for experts here on Earth to examine, and the actual articles were delivered a matter of days ago. They are offered as proof that the configuration of the Solar System was once very different from what we know today—once again apparently corroborating in a striking fashion the claims that the Kronians have come here to put to us.”
This time the flurry of voices took some time to die down. Voler moved back and rested casually against the edge of the dais while he waited. When he had the room’s attention again, he half-turned to look up at the podium. “Would you describe your relationship with our Kronian guests as cordial, Dr. Keene?” he inquired. Once again, he seemed to have projected himself into the role of a lawyer conducting a trial.
“Well, yes, I suppose you’d say so,” Keene agreed. He had no idea where this was going.
“Friendly, perhaps? You were in communication for many months. You and certain members of their scientific group got to know each other quite well, I understand.”
“I guess so. That’s natural enough for people who share professional interests. What of it?”
“Ah yes, sharing professional interests. Your interests are tied pretty tightly to whether or not the case that the Kronians are arguing is accepted, isn’t it? And the interests of Amspace Corporation, with whom your company does the bulk of its work. If Earth were to initiate a large program of long-range space development in the way we are being urged, then not only would the future of the Kronian colony be assured but the prospects for success and fortune of both yourself and Amspace would be permanently guaranteed. Isn’t that so?”