"Oh, that," said Duncan, mildly disappointed; this aspect of the matter seemed so unimportant now.
"I think I understand his strategy. Four years ago, when we turned down his project for a simple long-wave detecting system — because we couldn't afford it, and he wouldn't say what he was really driving at
— he decided he'd have to go directly to Earth and convince the top scientists there. That meant
acquiring funds, somehow. I'm sure he hoped that he'd be vindicated so quickly that we'd forget any
minor infractions of the exchange laws. It was a gamble, of course, but he felt it so important that he was prepared to take risks."
"Hmm," said the Ambassador, obviously not too impressed. "I know that Helmer was a friend of yours, and I don't want to speak harshly of him. But wouldn't it be fair to call him a scientific genius —
and a criminal psychopath?"
Rather to his surprise, Duncan found himself bristling at this description. Yet he had to admit it
contained some truth. One of the attributes of the psychopath — a term still popular among laymen,
despite three hundred years of professional attempts to eradicate it — was a moral blindness to any
interests but his own. Of course, Karl could always produce a very convincing argument that his interests were for the best of all concerned. The Makenzies, Duncan realized with some embarrassment, were also
skilled at this kind of exercise.
"If there were irrational elements in Karl's behavior, they were at least partly due to a breakdown he had fifteen years ago. But that never affected his scientific judgment; everyone I've spoken to agrees that Argus is sound."
"I don't doubt it — but why is it important? "
"I'd hoped," said Duncan mildly, "that I'd made that clear to our invisible friends."
And I believe I have, he told himself, to at least one of them. His most penetrating questioner was
certainly one of Terra's top radio astronomers. He would understand, and only a few allies at that level were necessary. Duncan was certain that someday they would meet again, this time eye to eye, and with a pointed lack of reference to any prior encounter.
"As to why it's important, Bob, I'll tell you something that I didn't mention to the Committee, and which I'm sure Karl never considered, because he was too engrossed in his own affairs. Do you realize
what a project like Argus would do to the Titan economy? It would bring us billions and make us the
scientific hub of the Solar System. It might even go a long way to solve our financial problems, when the demand for hydrogen starts to drop in the ‘80s."
"I appreciate that," Farrell answered dryly, "especially as my taxes will go toward it. But let nothing interfere with the March of Science."
Duncan laughed sympathetically. He like Bob Farrell, and he had been extremely helpful. But he
was less and less sure of the Ambassador's loyalties, and it might soon be time to find a replacement.
Unfortunately, it would again have to be a Terran, because of this infernal gravity; but that was a problem Titan would always have to live with.
He could certainly never tell his own ambassador, still less the Argus Committee, why Karl's
brainchild might be so vital to the human race. There were speculations in that Minisec — luckily, there was no hint of them in the sketchbook — which had best not be published for many years, until the
project had proved itself.
Karl had been right so often in the past, seizing on truths beyond all bounds of logic and reason, that Duncan felt sure that this last awesome intuition was also correct. Or if it was not, the truth was even stranger; in any event, it was a truth that must be learned. Though the knowledge might be
overwhelming, the price of ignorance could be — extinction.
Here on the streets of this beautiful city, steeped in sunlight and in history, it was hard to take Karl's final comments seriously, as he speculated about the origin of those mysterious waves. And surely even Karl did not really believe all the thoughts he had spoken into the secret memory of his Minisec, during the long voyage to Earth...
But he was diabolically persuasive, and his arguments had an irresistible logic and momentum of their
own. Even if he did not believe all his own conjectures, he might still be right.
"Item one," he had murmured to himself (it must have been hard to get privacy on that freighter, and Duncan could sometimes hear the noises of the ship, the movements of the other crew members), "these kilohertz waves have a limited range because of interstellar absorption. They would not normally be able to pass from one star to another, unless plasma clouds act as waveguides, channeling them over greater distances. So their origin must be close to the Solar System."
"My calculations all point to a source — or sources — at about a tenth of a light year from the Sun.
Only a fortieth of the way to Alpha Centauri, but two hundred times the distance of Pluto... No man's