Address: Centauri - Cover

Address: Centauri

Copyright© 2017 by F.L. Wallace

Chapter 2

Docchi sat beside the pool. It would be pleasant if he could forget where he was. It was pastoral though not quite a scene from Earth. The horizon was too near and the sky was shallow and only seemed to be bright. Darkness lurked outside.

A small tree stretched shade overhead. Waves lapped and made gurgling sounds against the banks. But there was no plant life of any kind, and no fish swam in the liquid. It looked like water but wasn’t--the pool held acid. And floating in it, all but submerged, was a shape. The records in the hospital said it was a woman.

“Anti, they turned us down,” said Docchi bitterly.

“What did you expect?” rumbled the creature in the pool. Wavelets of acid danced across the surface, stirred by her voice.

“I didn’t expect that.”

“You don’t know the Medicouncil very well.”

“I guess I don’t.” He stared sullenly at the fluid. It was faintly blue. “I have the feeling they didn’t consider it, that they held the request for a time and then answered no without looking at it.”

“Now you’re beginning to learn. Wait till you’ve been here as long as I have.”

Morosely he kicked an anemic tuft of grass. Plants didn’t do well here either. They too were exiled, far from the sun, removed from the soil they originated in. The conditions they grew in were artificial. “Why did they turn us down?” said Docchi.

“Answer it yourself. Remember what the Medicouncil is like. Different things are important to them. The main thing is that we don’t have to follow their example. There’s no need to be irrational even though they are.”

“I wish I knew what to do,” said Docchi. “It meant so much to us.”

“We can wait, outlast the attitude,” said Anti, moving slowly. It was the only way she could move. Most of her bulk was beneath the surface.

“Cameron suggested waiting.” Reflectively Docchi added: “It’s true we are biocompensators.”

“They always bring in biocompensation,” muttered Anti restlessly. “I’m getting tired of that excuse. Time passes just as slow.”

“But what else is there? Shall we draw up another request?”

“Memorandum number ten? Let’s not be naive. Things get lost when we send them to the Medicouncil. Their filing system is in terrible shape.”

“Lost or distorted,” grunted Docchi angrily. The grass he’d kicked already had begun to wilt. It wasn’t hardy in this environment. Few things were.

“Maybe we ought to give the Medicouncil a rest. I’m sure they don’t want to hear from us again.”

Docchi moved closer to the pool. “Then you think we should go ahead with the plan we discussed before we sent in the petition? Good. I’ll call the others together and tell them what happened. They’ll agree that we have to do it.”

“Then why call them? More talk, that’s all. Besides I don’t see why we should warn Cameron what we’re up to.”

Docchi glanced at her worriedly. “Do you think someone would report it? I’m certain everyone feels as I do.”

“Not everyone. There’s bound to be dissent,” said Anti placidly. “But I wasn’t thinking of people.”

“Oh that,” said Docchi. “We can block that source any time we need to.” It was a relief to know that he could trust the accidentals. Unanimity was important and some of the reasons weren’t obvious.

“Maybe you can and maybe you can’t,” said Anti. “But why make it difficult, why waste time?”

Docchi got up awkwardly but he wasn’t clumsy once he was on his feet. “I’ll get Jordan. I know I’ll need arms.”

“Depends on what you mean,” said Anti.

“Both,” said Docchi, smiling. “We’re a dangerous weapon.”

She called out as he walked away. “I’ll see you when you leave for far Centauri.”

“Sooner than that, Anti. Much sooner.”

Stars were beginning to wink. Twilight brought out the shadows and tracery of the structure that supported the transparent dome overhead. Soon controlled slow rotation would bring near darkness to this side of the asteroid. The sun was small at this distance but even so it was a tie to the familiar scenes of Earth. Before long it would be lost.


Cameron leaned back and looked speculatively at the gravity engineer, Vogel. The engineer could give him considerable assistance. There was no reason why he shouldn’t but anyone who voluntarily had remained on the asteroid as long as Vogel was a doubtful quantity. He didn’t distrust him, the man was strange.

“I’ve been busy trying to keep the place running smoothly. I hope you don’t mind that I haven’t been able to discuss your job at length,” said the doctor, watching him closely.

“Naw, I don’t mind,” said Vogel. “Medical directors come and go. I stay on. It’s easier than getting another job.”

“I know. By now you should know the place pretty well. I sometimes think you could do my work with half the trouble.”

“Ain’t in the least curious about medicine and never bothered to learn,” grunted Vogel. “I keep my stuff running and that’s all. I don’t interfere with nobody and they don’t come around and get friendly with me.”

Cameron believed it. The statement fit the personality. He needn’t be concerned about fraternization. “There are a few things that puzzle me,” he began. “That’s why I called you in. Usually we maintain about half Earth-normal gravity. Is that correct?”

The engineer nodded and grunted assent.

“I’m not sure why half gravity is used. Perhaps it’s easier on the weakened bodies of the accidentals. Or there may be economic factors. Either way it’s not important as long as half gravity is what we get.”

“You want to know why we use that figure?”

“If you can tell me without getting too technical, yes. I feel I should learn everything I can about the place.”

The engineer warmed up, seeming to enjoy himself. “Ain’t no reason except the gravity units themselves,” Vogel said. “Theoretically we can get anything we want. Practically we take whatever comes out, anything from a quarter to full Earth gravity.”

“You have no control over it?” This contradicted what he’d heard. His information was that gravity generators were the product of an awesome bit of scientific development. It seemed inconceivable that they should be so haphazardly directed.

“Sure we got control,” answered the engineer, grinning. “We can turn them off or on. If gravity varies, that’s too bad. We take the fluctuation or we don’t get anything.”

Cameron frowned; the man knew what he was doing or he wouldn’t be here. His position was of only slightly less importance than that of the medical director--and where it mattered the Medicouncil wouldn’t tolerate incompetence. And yet----

The engineer rumbled on. “You were talking how the generators were designed especially for the asteroid. Some fancy medical reason why it’s easier on the accidentals to have a lesser gravity plus a certain amount of change. Me, I dunno. I guess the designers couldn’t help what was built and the reason was dug up later.”

Cameron concealed his irritation. He wanted information, not a heart to heart confession. Back on Earth he had been told it was for the benefit of the accidentals. He’d reserved judgment then and saw no reason not to do so now. “All practical sciences try to justify what they can’t escape but would like to. Medicine, I’m sure, is no exception.”

He paused thoughtfully. “I understand there are three separate generators on the asteroid. One runs for forty-five minutes while two are idle. When the first one stops another one cuts in. The operations are supposed to be synchronized. I don’t have to tell you that they’re not. Not long ago you felt your weight increase suddenly. I know I did. What is wrong?”

“Nothing wrong,” said the engineer soothingly. “You get fluctuations while one generator is running. You get a gravity surge when one generator is supposed to drop out but doesn’t. The companion machine adds to it, that’s all.”

“They’re supposed to be that way? Overlapping so that for a time we have Earth or Earth and a half gravity?”

“Better than having none,” said Vogel with heavy pride. “Used to happen quite often, before I came. You can ask any of the old timers. I fixed that though.”

He didn’t like the direction his questions were taking him. “What did you do?” he asked suspiciously.

“Nothing,” said the engineer uncomfortably. “Nothing I can think of. I guess the machines just got used to having me around.”

There were people who tended to anthropomorphize anything they came in contact with and Vogel was one of them. It made no difference to him that he was talking about insensate machines. He would continue to endow them with personality. “This is the best you can say, that we’ll get a wild variation of gravity, sometimes none?”

“It’s not supposed to work that way but nobody’s ever done better with a setup like this,” said Vogel defensively. “If you want you can check the company that makes these units.”

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