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Authors: William R. Forstchen

Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #General

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BOOK: Into the Sea of Stars
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"My grant proposal?"
I've never written a grant proposal. Ian was about to say that he had no idea what the Chancellor was talking about, but then thought it might
be better not to admit such ignorance.

"You do remember your grant proposal?" the Chan
cellor asked suspiciously.

Ian forced a smile and nodded noncommittally.

"Right, then.
I just wanted to be the first to congrat
ulate you. Your grant has come through. You know what
this means for our school? Isn't this wonderful?"

"It's come through," Ian replied, trying to keep his
confusion out of his voice. "Why, that's wonderful." What
the hell is he talking about?

"Well, aren't you excited, my good man? Think of the
prestige it will bring to this institution."

And to your plans for being the next Minister of Ed
ucation, Ian thought.

"Don't you have anything to say?"

Ian could only smile weakly.

"Ah, I understand, of course you're in shock over this
whole thing. But you'd better get cracking, my good man.
You're to be out of here Tuesday morning. By the way, are your passport and twenty-three-forty-four medical
form up to date?"

"My twenty-three-forty-four?"

A glint of suspicion appeared in the Chancellor's eyes.
He examined Ian as if he were an insect under a magni
fying glass.

"Wake up, man, wake up.
Your twenty-three-forty-
four!"

"Sir, what is a twenty-three-forty-four?" Ian bleated.

"Good God, man, don't you understand what I'm talk
ing about?" Exasperated, the Chancellor opened his
at
tache
case and pulled out a heavy document, bound in a
red jacket. There was a quick flurry of pages and the
Chancellor started to read.

" 'All
members of the party must qualify for
translight
travel by successfully undergoing a full twenty-three-
forty-four medical review.' Dr.
Lacklin
, you wrote that
in the grant proposal, or don't you remember? It's stan
dard medical policy for anyone traveling aboard the new
translight
vessels."

"I'm traveling
translight
!" Ian shouted in terror.

The Chancellor stood up to his full six-and-a-half-foot
height and advanced around the desk. He loomed over
Ian as if he
were
closing in for the kill, and Ian slipped
lower into his seat.

"Dr.
Lacklin
, do you understand anything at all con
cerning what we've been talking about?"

Ian tried to sound self-assured, but only a mousy "no"
squeaked out of him.

A forefinger was suddenly pointed into
lan's
chest and with each word spoken the Chancellor stabbed at Ian with
such force that Ian feared a rib might be broken.

"Dr.
Lacklin
, at the beginning of this semester a grant
proposal left the history department under your signature.
Your department, and your signature, Dr.
Lacklin
.
And
this document was addressed to the Department of Deep
Space Survey and Exploration. Last year the DSSE an
nounced that an Alpha 3
translight
survey ship would be released from active service and placed at the disposal of the Ministry of Education, and grant proposals would be
accepted as to its implementation and use. Do you follow
me so far, Dr.
Lacklin
?"

"Yes."

"You are aware, of course, Dr.
Lacklin
, that we have
only returned to space within the last hundred years and
that
translight
was only discovered within the last fifteen
years. I am sure, Dr.
Lacklin
, that you realize that there are only eleven
translight
ships available, and the Alpha
3 is the first such model."

"Yes, I am a professor of space history," Ian replied,
trying to sound insulted over such a simple question.

"Good. I wasn't sure on that point." The Chancellor
cut him an icy gaze.

"The Alpha 3 was to be retired," Ian interjected. "The
damn thing is unsafe; all the other ships of the same design
have never returned."

"Not to worry." And the Chancellor laughed. "I've
been assured that little problem has been cleared up.
But as I was telling you, Dr.
Lacklin
, the grant proposal
under your signature requested use of that vehicle and,
I quote, 'to attempt reestablishment of contact with the
seven hundred colonies that abandoned near-Earth space
on the eve of the Holocaust War. This will be accomplished by consulting those surviving records, recently
uncovered, which indicate the courses of the colonies.
Using
translight
propulsion it will be a simple matter of
following the original courses and thus overtaking the
units,' unquote."

The Chancellor fixed Ian with a deadly, penetrating
gaze. "Dr.
Lacklin
, did you write this grant proposal?"

Ian looked up and started to answer.

"The truth, Dr.
Lacklin
, or you'll regret it!"

"No." His answer came out as a timid squeak.

In exasperation the Chancellor slammed the proposal
onto
lan's
desk. A flurry of dust swirled around the two
men. The Chancellor suddenly reached across the table,
grabbed hold of the proposal, and threw it into
lan's
lap.

"Then look at this, damn it!"

Ian picked it up and, adjusting his glasses, he peered
owllike
at the cover.

" 'A proposal for the implementation of the Alpha 3
unit for the reestablishment of contact with colonial units of the twenty-first century, submitted by Dr. Ian
Lacklin
,
Provincial University System.' "

Ian suddenly felt very sick.

He pulled open the proposal and started to scan it.

"Turn to the last page, damn you!"

Ian obeyed the shouted command.

 

Proposed Crewing of the Alpha 3 Discovery

 

Understanding the extreme limitation on crew space
and taking into consideration the isolation from
any higher authority, it should be realized that the crew must deal with all contingencies related to
establishing contact with human colonies while
out of contact with Earth. Crew proposal is as
follows:

1.
       
Pilot of the Alpha 3 unit with previous expe
rience in deep space flight and isolation.

2.
       
Medical/biological technician with an under
standing of medical situations unique to the twenty-
first century, since all units contacted will have been
isolated with their particular varieties of microbes
for the last 1107 years.

3.
       
Sociological/psychological personnel capable
of dealing with the ramifications of cross-cultural
exposure and shock.

4.
       
Assistant to the program director, capable of logging all reports, administering to all reporting,
filing, and data management.

5.
    
Program director
,
 
versed
 
in twenty-first-
century history, in particular relating to all aspects
of the establishment of the self-contained colonies
starting in 2019 until the decision to flee near-Earth
space in the year 2078. The program director must be familiar with each of the colonial units in ques
tion, their engineering, sociological backgrounds,
cultural makeup, and administrative organizations.

 

Sweat broke out on
lan's
forehead. He stopped for a
moment to look up at the Chancellor and was met with
a glacial stare. He returned to his reading.

 

The program director should have a full under
standing of the process leading to the decision by
the seven hundred colonial units to abandon Earth on the eve of the Holocaust War. The program director should be familiar with the trajectories se
lected by the units when evacuating near-Earth space
and have reasonable estimates of distance traveled by each unit since departure. All such data is cur
rently on file with the author and is available upon
request.

 

Ian groaned softly and looked up imploringly at the
Chancellor.

"Look at that signature," the Chancellor hissed.

Ian did as ordered and stared numbly at the signature and personal seal placed upon the last page of the pro
posal. They were his, all right.

"Can you explain this?!" the Chancellor demanded.

Ian could only shake his head.

"Are those your signature and personal seal?"

"Yes," he replied weakly.

"Then, good God, man, this is your grant proposal!"

"But I didn't write it."

"Oh, yes you did, Dr.
Lacklin
, you most certainly did.
My contact over at the Ministry has informed me that the grant has been approved and that the decision has already
been made that you, as the author of this grant, shall lead the mission.

"Dr.
Lacklin
, I don't give a good damn if you wrote this thing or not, but as far as anyone is now concerned, you are the sole author of it and will take responsibility as mission head. I'll not have it said that this document
got past my office and then turned out to be a fake. I'd
be the laughingstock of the profession. Dr.
Lacklin
, this
one is yours and you are going for a ride with it!"

"I can't!"

"What do you mean, you can't? I don't think I'm hearing you correctly."

"You know and I know that those Alpha 3s never came
back. Besides, I get deathly sick anytime I travel."

In his panic he could already conjure up a hundred
possible deaths in the mad venture—they could have an
engine overload, or
misnavigation
could send them into
a black hole. And the quarters, they were so cramped the
claustrophobia alone would kill him. He wasn't going out
there, and that was that. He was a historian, a dealer in
the safeness of the past—not some crazed adventurer. He simply reported and glorified it all. It sure as hell wasn't his job to go out and actually do it.

The Chancellor settled back in his chair and with a sudden change of tack started to smile gently. "Come,
come, Dr.
Lacklin
, think of the opportunity. This is your field. Think of the lucrative offers upon your return. By heavens, man, the publishers would even snatch up that
book you're working on."

"I can't go. I'm afraid of flying."

"Dr.
Lacklin
, think how ridiculous we'd look if it sud
denly came out that you were not the author of this grant."

"I don't care if I look ridiculous."

"But I care, Dr.
Lacklin
. I most certainly care." There was a note of threat in the voice that carried a distinct
warning.

"Look, Ian"—and the Chancellor leaned forward, trying
to put on the suave charm though it was obvious that
near-homicidal rage churned just below the surface—"I'll
make it as plain as can be. This will put our university
on the map. And it will be one of my department people who did it. The regional board of directors will take very
favorable notice of a campus with such a success."

"And over my vaporized body, you'll move into the
National Bureau of Education," Ian muttered.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing, your Excellency, nothing."

"Then you'll still refuse to take responsibility for this
grant and will refuse the position of project manager?"

Ian didn't answer.

"You'll be the coward just because of a little physical
discomfort and a very slight risk of danger?"

Ian could only nod his head.

"All right then, if that's the way you want it." The
Chancellor suddenly turned and started for the door.

Ian slumped back into his chair and breathed an audible
sigh of relief. He knew a terrible revenge would be exacted for his refusal, but anything was better than going
"out there."

The Chancellor started to open the door and then turned,
giving Ian a cold-blooded look of appraisal.
"By the way, Dr.
Lacklin
.
Have you ever heard of a young coed named
Makena
LaFay
?"

BOOK: Into the Sea of Stars
8.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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