Effects of Openness

EFFECTS OF OPENNESS / CH. 1:MESSAGES HOME

EMBASSY BARRACKS, THUSOL, MAY 16TH

[James, I, Karella, call you. You can talk?]

[High councillor! Yes. I've been praying you would call.]

[There is a problem?]

[I have worries, High Councillor, and news. First though, before I forget, my third cousin Ruth who walks on Mars regrets and renounces her rejection of contact. She sends message to her parents and all who know her: 'God has found me.']

[Ah, that is indeed good news. You have more?]

[I am not quite engaged, high councillor. My heart belongs to Margaret, who hears thoughts and whose grandfather taught her that an oathbreaker is shark or sharkfood, and swore her to never break the secret of the stories he told her of home, just as his mother or grandmother taught him. Alice who does not pry confirmed we are not fourth cousins or closer.]

[Ah. How did she know?]

[Because on my way here, Ruth thought I would be a good catch, and I was under orders not to start a romantic connection without discussing it with her. With Alice, I mean.]

[Ah, so you had a duty to explain about comparing genealogies.]

[Yes, and she forbade it. It was not a problem until the we landed, when Ruth turned to Christ. Then... once we had permission to discuss, we were too eager, too excited. We found we were third cousins once removed and did not discuss other relatives. For a few hours... it seemed risky, dangerous, stupid even, but possible. Then Simon, who sees truth, spoke of other bonds between us, and we found the truth. We are third cousins, fourth cousins, and third cousins once removed. Having seen how devastating it was, Alice checked Margaret without asking me.]

[She is compassionate.]

[She is. And she treats my oath as binding on her also, but Margaret has told me things she has learned that I must pass on to you, High Councillor, and through you, to the council.]

[Speak, James Newsbringer.]

[The land-men are not tricked. Not fully, not now, by amnesia. They examine DNA, and compare it. They are bemused about where we who walk among them come from, and they watch us. But they see we are trustworthy, hard-working people, and that our different genetics is in their population also, and has been for generations upon generations, but still they recognise us. They value privacy and do not pry, at least those from the country that gives me a passport. I suspect that the next amnesiac they meet will be reprimanded for wounding themselves, and told he or she should have just gone straight to the authorities and said they had taken an oath not to speak of their past.

I am quite sure they have a list of us, just in case, but they do nothing. They also have a good guess from other countries, too, as a found child is always reported among them, and DNA profiles circulated. Margaret tells me she is sure that other countries have also noticed these things, or if not will do so in the next few years.

Ruth's experience on her way here, claiming to be a refugee, was also not pleasant either, as much depends on the foster home or reception centre. She also was logged and recorded as one of us. She was not abused, praise God, but until she was registered as a truth-sayer nor did she find much acceptance. So, I humbly ask the council, if news-bringers and home-leavers are recognised and catalogued, does that not mean the time of sending news-bringers should come to an end?]

[I have heard similar thoughts, James, but you speak with more knowledge. Thank you.]

[I also have another question for the council to debate, one which puts me in a great dilemma.]

[Speak, James.]

[Here on Mars, they study what is to them a strange new forcefield. Alice's husband discovered it some years ago, but he only knows how to make sea-urchins so far. But he does not know the risks. He makes urchins with spikes up to three centimeters, in the middle of the university, I quail at the thought of what might happen. I pleaded with him to only try those configurations which did not show as dangerous to his gift, but he is but one of a team. Is there someone, somewhere, who could send him a message of warning? Who could present him with some theory which would explain sufficient so he sees the risks, or who could perhaps cause a small, safe 'accident' which could be reported to tell of the dangers?]

[I was an inattentive student, James. Is three centimeters so much bigger than what was demonstrated at school?]

[I think it is thirty or sixty times the volume, high councillor. Even a disk of ninety meters would kill many, for it is a crowded campus. But I think I remember it is far far worse. I beg you to ask an expert, for what I think I remember terrifies me. He has the apparatus on a bench, at waist high, and thinks it's safe because his experiment only works in a vacuum.]

[I hear your worry, James, and I ask one now. I will call you when I've finished talking to him.]

James waited, relieved.

----------------------------------------

MARS UNIVERSITY.

Simon was about to try another experiment when he heard a voice in his mind.

[Hi. Please don't turn that thing on where it is now.]

[Pardon?]

[How much power are you putting into that spike-ball?]

[Who are you?] Simon thought back, but the number did come to his mind.

[Dear Lord preserve us! That much? I'm a very concerned friend, via someone with the gift, obviously, who'd be concerned too if she knew what I know.

Let me tell you some numbers you can experiment with, somewhere where you won't risk killing the entire population of the university, OK? Roughly speaking, as I'm sure you've worked out, input power is proportional to the volume that contains the spike-ball. The spike ball is the thing all curled and folded up because no one's told it what to do. Now, hit it with a vertically polarized R.F. beam just above or below the excitation frequency and you'll turn it into an inefficient pulsating surface, not much bigger than the spike ball. That surface will be perpendicular to the electric field of your R.F., and also perpendicular to the plane you get from the normal to your emitter coil. Get to exactly the right frequency and with only one resonator you'll suddenly get a circular plane, where input power is proportional to area. Write this down please, one millimetre of diameter ball gets you roughly a three meter radius disk, so it might cut you in half, I'd love to know how it hasn't already, actually. Ten milimeters is going to cost you a thousand times the energy, and give a thousand times the area, as for that monstrosity you've got there... Eek, I'm glad you're not on my planet.]

[How do you know this?]

[Due to fun and exciting maths, hit it with exactly one octave below the excitation frequency and you're going to get a long rod, where length is, you guessed it proportional to input energy. One milimeter diameter spike-ball gives you about thirty meters of spike, so ten millimeters lets you try to punch holes through something about thirty kilometres away, assuming nothing breaks. The spike will be the normal to the plane of polarization, as you might expect. So, don't try this at home, OK? You really don't want to go down in history as killing everyone in the name of science.]

[You say the force plane is along the coil axis?]

[If it could form there, which it can't, it'd slice the coil in half. It's an interesting effect. I'll let you determine what determines the exact offset, and why it never forms on the circuit-board side of the coil.

[My coil is perpendicular to the circuit board, horizontal coils looked dangerous to my gift.]

[Tell your wife to thank God for that information, it's kept you alive. That'd probably just smash itself, if it got the wrong R.F near it, and quite frankly I'm surprised you've never had some. You've still got the risk of the spike, though, which would seriously ruin your dome, not to mention do nasty things to whoever it goes through. Well, I say a spike, really it's a tube. Work out how to get it to make a cone and you'll be half way to understanding how it all hangs together. Oh yeah, the vacuum thing? That's just breakdown of residual air at the induced field gradients. Pot the circuit in the right high voltage resin or ceramic and it'll work anywhere. But please... keep your spike balls really really small, OK?]

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

[But I don't get them at all at the power you're talking about.]

[You'd better think about interacting fields and circuit layout then.]

[And isn't there any way to deenergise the trapped radiation? I don't want that radiation burst.]

[Oh, that's what you're playing with them for? Yes, but that's advanced class, I'm afraid. I can't even guess how I'd start when it's a spike ball. Take care and don't kill anyone.]

Simon looked at the experiment he'd built. It had been a new design, attempting to get a clean control signal, using Horace's suggestion of modulating something at radio frequency. His chosen frequency had been an octave below that of the main resonator, so he knew he'd have a nice stable reference signal that way. There was no way he could guarantee that signal wasn't going to get to the five centimetre hedgehog the apparatus had been intended to make. He tapped a few numbers into his computer. Fifty cubed times thirty meters. The damage that a three thousand kilometre spike might do didn't bear thinking about.

He cut off the high power connecting leads he'd spent the morning attaching, and then took a marker and wrote on the board 'Danger! Do not power up! Probably has lethal design flaw.'

Then he decided he needed to spend some time with Alice; he had a message to give her.

----------------------------------------

EMBASSY BARRACKS, THURSOL, MAY 16TH, 10AM

[James, it is done.] Karella thought to him, [A forcefield designer has spoken to him, and your friend now knows about spikes and disks and how to make them. Enough, at least that, he is dismantling his latest experiment.]

[Thank you councillor, but... does that not reveal our secrets?]

[Does it not save many many lives?] she asked in reply,

[It does, councillor.]

[And no one has made me swear an oath. But I have a request for you, James. Seek out information on the SpaceGuard bomb-probe. Astronomy is not easy from Atlantis, but an elderly news-bringer has heard it was due to hit Earth, but in the ocean 'so there was nothing to worry about'. Please do try to find where it is predicted to drop its radioactive poisons. SpaceGuard on Earth seems to be slow in releasing more precise information.]

[Of course, High Councillor. I hadn't heard of it, but I'm looking now. Ah, I find a science article from the observatory here. {shock} In this article they predict it will hit the approximate centre of the North Atlantic, but suggest more confirming studies.]

[Ah, so they are not sure.]

[No high councillor, they are not sure.]

[James, do not worry for us too much. Atlantis can move, after all.]

[I am glad for that, High Councillor.]

[I may tell your parents of your Maragret?]

[Of course.]

[Your sister is expecting, and says she sends her love when she's not feeling sick, then she wants to send that.]

[{laughter}Please send her my blessing. Oh! I almost forgot, high Councillor. Something else unexpected happened some weeks ago. A land man, my colleague for a while, before he left back for Earth. He is a very stable man, Margaret describes him as boring, but I think conservative and reliable are better descriptions, but he became most agitated and emotional over one subject. Margaret and I were thinking that he had more the characteristics of a treaty negotiator than as a bodyguard for such. She said he would have been well suited to ancient China, a place with many traditions and little change. I thought of home, and jokingly suggested that if home ever received ambassadors from the landmen, I would introduce him to Lara.]

[Lara?]

[Lara Knifetongue, I had been telling Margaret of our constant arguments.]

[Ah, that one, yes.]

[He entered at that time and he demanded I tell him of her. He has had a vision of her, holding a knife to his throat as they discuss Plato. Her knife gives him no pause nor fear, and he is sure they will wed. Does she walk on land?]

[Lara? Never!]

[Has she married?]

[No.]

[I hope she does not think she promised herself to me. But it seems God has revealed her face to Harry. I gave him a letter of introduction, in case he should ever meet her, releasing her if she did think that.]

[That was well thought.]

[But what does it mean, High Councillor, that a land man be granted a vision of a mermaid?]

[Wearing scale?]

[No, her mother's necklace and a white blouse.]

[I think it means they are to meet, and perhaps marry. We live in strange times, James, perhaps she will leave us also.]

[No, High Councilor, for there was another thing, a thing so natural that I only remember it now. He showed me the image he had from God, and I recognised where they were standing too, it was beside the Turnbull ring.]

[A land-man beside the Turnbull ring?]

[Yes. A disturbing image.]

[Not necessarily disturbing, if it's an image of love. And the knife is in her hand remember, I'd much rather that than the other way round. Maybe the time to stop hiding has come. I will discuss it with the Council, James. How old did Lara seem to you?]

[Older than I remember, but... not so old.]

[Her mother still lives, but she is not well, not at all.]

[He returns to Earth to care for his mother.]

[Ah. Harry, you said his name was?]

[Yes. He should be on Earth by now.]

[He is beside his mother's bed,] Karella said, [glad he arrived in time, and also sad. My guess is she is dying.]

[Poor Harry!]

[And your Margaret is looking for you, James. You are tenth cousins, and I ask you tell her my position, but not yet my name. Let it be added to your file that you are sometimes contacted by one of the ruling council of your people. Perhaps it will be useful one day, and if Alice or Mystery tells you she needs to know my name, tell her.]

[I will, High Councilor, but I do not understand why.]

[It is better, you see, that they ask you my name, than look for me. Thus more secrets are preserved.]

[Ah, I understand. Thank you.]

[Now, speak of all our conversation today to your intended, James.]

[All?]

[Trust her, James. It is important.]

“Oh!” Margaret said, coming in, “There you are!”

“Sorry, love. A long, long conversation with home. I'm under instructions to tell you all about it and to ask you to put into my file that the lady who sometimes calls me is on our ruling council.”

“Why?”

“To me, it sounded like 'In emergency, Mystery or Alice can ask James for contact name.'”

“Well, that's considerate of her.”

“Yes. And apparently Harry is sitting beside his mum's bed glad he got there on time but sad, so I guess we'd better tell Alice. Other news is Lara's not married and has an unwell mother too, and the interceptor is going to crash in the middle of the North Atlantic.”

“Is that, urm, a significant location?”

“At the moment it is, yes. Expect strange mid-Atlantic tectonic activity or something.”

“Pardon?”

“That's what happened last time, anyway. Some heat traces showing up on satellites accompanied by a few rumbles to help people come up with a plausible explanation.”

“I'm lost, James.”

“Let me guide you.” James said, turning her round. “Alice's office is that way, this sound is coming out of is my face, and these soft bits are my lips ready to kiss you.”

[Silly. What are you talking about tectonics and things for?]

[Home can move.]

[Oh!]

[More information is we're tenth cousins, which is about as near to no relation as you can get, I love you very much, and my sister is expecting.]

[That middle bit is news?]

[I hope not. Have we got time to look at my crops?]

[I expect so. Should we see Alice first or second?]

[Second,] James thought.

[Any particular reason?]

[Of course there is. Oh, apparently Simon got talked to, told stuff about hedgehogs.]

[Praise God!]

[So, urm, let's be quick. I don't want to be there when he gets home.]

[We could go to Alice first.]

[No we can't.]

[Why ever not?]

[Please, ask me no questions, my lady.]

[You're planning something.]

[Who, me?]

----------------------------------------

FINDHORN-BUNTING RESIDENCE, 11AM

“Hello, why are you grinning like that, James?” Alice asked.

“Because Margaret is going to give a report on the state of my crops.”

“Am I? I thought we were going to tell Alice about Harry.”

James's smile vanished, “I forgot, yeah, that's no grinning matter. Did you hear about me knowing the girl of his dreams?”

“Yes, you told me.”

“I got a call from home, and reported it. She's still at home, apparently. Looking after her very poorly mother. The member of the ruling council who called me — I've been told to make sure that gets in my file just in case you need her name — told me she checked on Harry, too. He was beside his mother's bed, sad, but glad he got there on time. She didn't check, but she guesses that she's not got long to live.”

“We're not asking you to call him, Alice,” Margaret said, “But if you do, please send our prayers.”

“Of course I'll call him. Now, James, what was it you were grinning about?”

“Margaret, tell Alice what you saw in my field, please.”

“Well, Alice, as you remember, he had his first harvest a couple of months ago and it passed entirely disappointingly from a romance point of view.”

“It wasn't grown on compost, so it didn't really count.” James said.

“Despite the fact that we're still eating it and leaving the freeze-dried all alone, apparently it didn't really count,” Margaret interpreted, “so today, he wanted to show me that he's somehow got his whole field dome planted, (I've no idea how he managed for compost), and that his crops are all sprouting nicely, and he's got peas and beans and what he tells me are broccoli and cabbages and brussel-sprouts and I'd guess he's got enough root veg growing to feed him for a year or two even without the greens.”

“Where did you get all the compost?” Alice asked, “or are they all going to die of malnourishment before harvest time?”

“I asked Harry if he really needed all his heap next year, or if I could swap my uncomposted greenery from my first harvest for an appropriate amount of ripe compost.”

“I hope you didn't cheat him.”

“Anna Durrel made the call. I certainly wasn't going to. I also mixed in quite a bit of the perlite I brought with me as an extra regolith improver, and in case they start looking malnourished I've got reserves of nutrients from my cargo.”

“I see, I think. You're saying you're well on the way to having enough crops to support you long term, aren't you?”

“Yes, Maam.”

Margaret looked at James as realisation dawned, “James? Are you...?” she asked, but he laid a finger gently on her lips.

“So what I'd like to ask, Alice, is when I've taken Margaret to what I feel is an appropriate place at an appropriate time, and I've asked her if she'll marry me, and if she says yes, whether it would also be possible for us to talk about a wedding date.”

“As long as that date is after your crops will be ready to harvest, yes. I'm not giving you permission to marry on the basis of seedlings. But you can set the date.”

“Thank you, Alice.” James said, then he turned to Margaret and asked, “Margaret, will you do me the honour of accompanying me on a walk? There are no storm-warnings expected.”

“Of course, James, I'd be happy to.”

Ten minutes after they'd left, arm in arm, Simon arrived home.