CRADLE OF SATURN BY JAMES P. HOGAN

“Well . . . I’m glad that you seem to be having second thoughts about us,” Sariena said. “And I don’t want to sound ungrateful that you called, or disinterested. But couldn’t it have waited until morning?”

“That could,” Keene agreed. “But there’s more that couldn’t. I’m with Vicki in the office in Corpus Christi.”

“In the office! At this time? . . .”

“I think she might have hit on something that clinches your case. It’s something she and I have talked about before, but there was never any reason to connect it with Saturn. The whole age of gigantism with the dinosaurs and everything—I don’t know if you’ve ever gone into the scaling implications, but nothing of those sizes could function in the conditions that exist on Earth today. The gravity is too strong. But suppose those conditions didn’t always exist. Suppose Earth were a phase-locked satellite, close-in to a giant primary. The primary’s attraction would reduce the value on the facing side. Combine that with what you’ve told us about Rhea. . . . It all fits.”

There was a long silence. Finally, Sariena said, “Let me put something on and get to a real phone. Stay on the line. I’ll be about a minute.”

“Seems like it got her attention,” Vicki murmured.

Keene looked across at her. “Boy, isn’t Robin going to be pleased.”

They waited. Then the screen of the desk unit brightened, and Sariena appeared against a hotel-room background, wearing a dark wraparound robe. She had evidently been doing some hurried thinking. “It appears to make so much sense,” she said, then mustered an awkward smile. “It’s I who ought to be apologizing, Lan. You can think like Kronians.”

“Thank Vicki,” Keene grunted. “Or, maybe we should all thank Robin.”

“Who’s Robin?”

“Vicki’s son. He’s fourteen. He’s the one who’s been telling us that dinosaurs couldn’t have existed.”

“Are you there, Vicki? Robin sounds like quite a person. Life must be interesting at your house.”

“Tell me about it,” Vicki called from where she was sitting. “I’m sorry things in Washington went the way they did.”

“Well, no doubt we shall survive it. What it tells us is that Kronian and Terran science can’t work together. And maybe that was something that needed to be seen and understood plainly. So perhaps, if for no other reason than that, the mission served its purpose. In the long run, it might be for the better in any case. These things that we’re still only touching on will lead to a whole rewriting of just about everything we thought we knew. We’re probably better off being free to pursue it in our own way.”

“You sound as if you could buy this idea of Vicki’s, then,” Keene said.

“I could in principle,” Sariena replied. “It would be nice to see something quantitative that at least fits the picture.”

“I did some rough calculations here before we called,” Keene said. “To be frank, they don’t look too promising. Even with the most extreme assumptions that I can justify, the answers I get aren’t anywhere near big enough. . . . But I could be missing something. You’re the planetary scientist. I’ll leave it with you.”

“Well, all we can do is pass all of this new material back to the scientists in Kronia,” Sariena said. “They know more about the dynamics of the Saturnian system than anyone. I don’t know where it will go from here. We might have to wait years before anything can be answered with confidence.”

Even after dealing with Kronians for a year, Keene was astonished at the ease with which Sariena was able to adjust her horizons to accommodate these new possibilities. Already he could sense an entire new program of research about to take shape out at Saturn after the Osiris returned. Now that his fears were allayed, all doubts had fled that he should have been going too. But the moment was gone. He had wavered at the crucial juncture, and the effect couldn’t be undone. Doubtless, there would be another ship, another time—but not this time. All the same, it was nice to think that until that time, whatever transpired out there now, in a way he would still be part of it.

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