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that China was taking full advantage of it to make some moves of her own in
the area of
Mongolia and also in the northern Pacific. The weapons were nonnuclear, of
course, but that mattered very little to those killed that they were killed by
"conventional" bombs on "limited range" missiles and that the disintegration
projectors that dissolved whole towns didn't leave any nasty radiation or blow
debris high into the atmosphere.
Van Haas had no trouble providing the calculations, and prayed only that there
was enough time for him to get the upper hand. As the neutral in the fray,
Westrex had taken general control of the entire Flux network for the duration,
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and it was taking full advantage of it.
One might design the machines to do the job, but they could not be built
overnight or so everyone, including the combattants, believed. They
underestimated Westrex and its own research. One machine, and one only, needed
to be built, and it was built in many parts and assembled deep in space. They
had learned a lot about Flux, more than anyone dreamed. They opened their own
Borelli Point in space, separate from any of the others, and they drew Flux
into their magnetic coils, and they inserted the great machine in it as long
ago their grandfathers had inserted the crude ashtray.
They made as many as they needed, and they did it on the cheap, out of Flux.
Each was a perfect copy of the original in every detail.
The Westrex computers had estimated that it would take seven controlled
Borelli Gates in permanent operation to effectively terraform their little
distant world. Three would also be used for incoming traffic, three for
outgoing traffic to future Bases. One would serve as the carrier to keep the
Flux universe road consistent with seven Points in operation and to maintain
the master levels.
The operation was a tricky one, since in order to maintain adequate Flux on
the new little world the Gates would have to be constantly opening and closing
in perfect synchronization other than when used for transportation outlets.
Additionally, the Flux had to maintain a balance with the gravitational and
magnetic forces that would be present on the worldlet in any event. Too much
could cause all sorts of chain reactions and imbalances, particularly when
Flux was transformed into matter and added to the planetary ecosystem; too
little and they could risk not having a sufficient amount to maintain an
atmosphere, water, power, and heat. They would be much too far from the sun in
that solar system to depend on it for more than keeping the parent planet in
its proper place.
And, of course, there was the minor matter that when Haller had arrived on
Titan, there had not yet been an attempt to break down a human being into
energy and shoot it someplace else. There had been a number of successes, even
with higher animals, but there had been far more notable failures, most ugly
enough and numerous enough that volunteers were not exactly standing in line
to try it out, and the clock was running.
There was a very real chance of peace breaking out on Earth almost any week
now.
She was tall, thin, in her mid-forties, a light-skinned African with strong
coastal West African features and hair. Her name was Miriam Ikeba, and her
title was Personnel Evaluation
Supervisor, but everybody knew she was the division's chief psychologist. She
greeted Haller warmly and told him to take a seat in a comfortable,
high-backed reclining chair.
He did so, and waited until she took her own seat behind her desk.
"This what they're using instead of couches these days'?" he asked lightly.
"Most psychiatrists never did use couches," she responded in the same tone.
"I'm not a psychiatrist, anyway. I'm a psychologist, which means I'm a doctor
of philosophy, not medicine.
Just relax."
More people have been fired by just relaxing before a "mere" psychologist than
by telling off the boss to his face, Haller noted to himself, but said
nothing.
She shuffled some papers on her desk. No psychologist ever used a computer
anywhere in their inner office, although the computer was vital in their work.
It was tough to have a relaxing atmosphere with a terminal on the desk the
subject couldn't see or read.
"Toby, I'll get right to the points I have to cover. You understand that what
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we say will be recorded for later evaluation?"
He nodded. "Go ahead."
"All right. Do you understand just what this project is all about?"
"I understand it very well, I think. We're going to take a pile of rock, in
some distant solar system here, about the size of Titan and make it into the
Garden of Eden so we can play with Flux and make Westrex richer and more
powerful than it is without scaring the home folks."
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