“You’ve got me,” Andrew said. “For Uncle Sam, starting well before the War, I’ve been in all sorts of interesting places. Rome, saw Pompeii and Herculaneum and how they were buried by a volcano. Saw a bit of the Gobi desert. Briefly stationed on the west coast of the Persian Gulf, next to some of the most desolate scenery you can imagine, a place the natives call ‘The Empty Quarter’, had a rail tour of India complete with seeing the Himalayas at a distance. Those are huge mountains. But I’ve never seen anything or heard of anything like this.”

“Call it a hidden volcano,” Cornelius suggested, “one that erupts burning-hot sand, and then disappears so you can’t find it again. Or simply say it’s a mystery. No explanation for disaster! Now that’s a fine subheading on your next edition of your newspaper.”

“Yes,” Charles said, “those are great ideas. And I bury the no explanation bit a few lines in so the editor doesn’t see it right off.”

“And while we’ve been jabbering,” Cornelius said, “we’ve come around so we’re headed near-on due south, that star is still at our nine-o’clock, so it’s got to be some sort of plane or balloon or something. And if you notice we’re going down, it’s that we’re approaching the Sky Harbor.”

Winston Cooper climbed down the ladder, then dropped to the gravel by the tracks. The second half of the trip, backing all the way, had been way slower than the first. In his head, he’d already composed his report as Associate Sheriff. There were dead people, they didn’t look to have died naturally, but that was why they had a town coroner, even if he had lots of other business.

He realized he should’ve expected: Waiting for them were the mayor, the publisher of the city’s newspaper, several women he didn’t know, a fellow in three-piece suit with gold chain pocket watch, and his grandfather. Gramps was in full Sheriff’s dress complete with vest, large bright-polished gold badge, a six-gun belted on each side of his waist, and two deputies flanking him. The deputies were carrying Browning Automatic Rifles, which they hardly ever broke out of the arms locker.

“I anticipate that the first of our ore haulers will be departing earth in the immediate future. Delayed maintenance on the others may take a while, though I gather for two of them flight will happen sooner rather than later.  One of our ore haulers appears to be mostly useful as a supply of parts. We are in the process of reviving the entirety of the space yards. Do we need all of it? Each segment of the yards is arranged to permit replacement of particular types of components of a ship. We can’t anticipate in advance which components will need replacement, so therefore we do have to bring the entire yard up into operation. Because we are busy paying off bond and note holders, the number of people we can pay for yard refurbishment is a bit limited. My message to the holders of Bulger debt is that we appear to be on schedule on repayments, recent changes mean that we will have significantly more income than had been expected, and therefore we may be repaying ahead of schedule.

“Since I must leave to meet with faculty and student leaders, in answer to the question ‘will Bulger be building more spaceships?’ the answer is still that we are too busy killing alligators to consider draining the swamp. Once we are done killing the alligators, that question becomes at least of hypothetical interest. Finally, I thank the local constabularies who appeared so that I could land and address the press.  Thank you also for separating the demonstrators and the counter-demonstrators, so that there will be no unpleasant events. And with that, I must advance.”

&&&&&

“To answer your question, I don’t think the Governor believed me.  We’re good friends, and he knows the medals I won over there, but what could do that?  He just doesn’t believe it. ” Andrew pointed over the side of the plane at the chrome-yellow sand.

“Been pondering the same,” Charles said. “I have my photos. I’m taking more. I really wish someone made useful color film.”

“You can make color photographs at all?” Cornelius said. “That’s amazing. It’s an age of wonders we live in. Mentioning wonders, I keep following this color border, changing course as we go, I gather Andrew keeps marking things on his map, but that line between yellow and not yellow is perfectly sharp.”

“The border looks to be a simple circle,” Andrew said. “If I’m right, in a couple minutes we pass over Wilhoit.”

“Meanwhile,” Charles said, “if I could have your attention for a moment, knowing you’re busy with that map?”

“We’re doing the amazing speed of 60 mph, give or take, but it still takes a little while for us to get someplace,” Andrew answered.

“That star you said wasn’t Venus,” Charles answered. “When we started following the sand area, headed more or less west, that star was more or less at nine-o-clock from us, and well above the horizon. We’ve gone far enough and turned enough that the sun, instead of being right behind us, is now over my left shoulder, at about 8 o’clock. But if I look out at 9 o’clock and up, that star is in exactly the same place. It can’t be a star, can it? It must be some sort of airplane.”

“Good eyes,” Andrew said. He fumbled with his map for a moment. “And if the sand area is some sort of a circle, which I’ll have checked by tonight, it must be sort of in the middle, give or take.”

“Checked?” Cornelius said.

“I anticipate the Governor wants to know the complete border of this whatever-it-is, meaning I get to go off and talk to him, Charles goes to his newspaper with all his film to develop, you get to have a full lunch, though by the way whoever made the sandwiches did a truly fine job, and that coffee is the best in town, but later this afternoon, say around three, I’m going to want to fly the other half-circuit, and probably take another observer along.”                                                           

“It pays for my house,” Cornelius said.  “Every so often I have enough cash to do some more work on it and a full day here makes a certain contribution to that.”

“You’re building it yourself?” Charles asked.

“I paid a good carpenter to put up the shell and floor,” Cornelius answered, “and I’m doing the rest.  I love flying, but I also love fine carpentry.”

“You keep writing notes to yourself, Charles,” Andrew observed.  “I’m staring at the sand, and see nothing different.”

“All the same, “Charles agreed.  ” ‘A zone of total devastation’, I call it.  Nothing remains.  No trees, no brush, no houses — I spotted a couple more foundations – no watercourses, except outside there are rivulets going dry.  And back inside no tracks, no ties, no phone poles, trains smashed flat.  I can write all the graphic details, but my editor will demand that I explain what happened. I am at wit’s end.”

The neighboring town of Florianopolis, according to Chelan’s reading, had originally been settled by Brazilian emigres fleeing aspects of the Interregnum. The town flanked the college on two sides, but, just as he had read, the college and its gardens occupied the land in a quadrant extending a considerable distance farther out. He readily spotted an extended business district close to the school, obvious apartment houses, and a mixture of churches, cathedrals, and temples.  Someplace in there had to be the municipal government structures, but he couldn’t immediately spot them.

“Sir,” Pamela said, “Centurion Conti reports that you’ve done enough sightseeing, because the local constabulary, the county sheriffs, and police forces from several neighboring towns are present, so you can safely land and meet the press.”

Chelan’s aircar descended into the center of a ring formed by bodyguards and members of the constabulary.  An exit ramp went down.  He stopped at the top of the stairs, waved, and waited while the press assembled around the stairs.

“I can hear your questions on my ear mike,” he answered.  “I understood that there were members of the faculty and staff who were disenthused about change and preferred to resign.  Naturally, I wish them well in their future endeavors.  I did not expect the occupation of Chancellor’s Hall.  Occupation of College academic and administrative buildings is something out of the worst days just before the Interregnum started.  That behavior should be sent back four hundred years to where it belongs.

“As Chancellor, I have absolute authority to discipline or expell students.  They may leave rather than accepting the punishment I offer.  I anticipate being forgiving to students who were misled, see the error of their ways, and are departing the building, as I now see some number of them doing. With respect to staff, I will be reviewing the departed. Some of them may be invited to return, but under Union law that letter of resignation is legally binding and something I will enforce.

“Some of you,” Chelan continued, “may not caught the last question, asking about the lawsuit of the space shipping cartel against Bulger Spaceways.”  You did not catch it, he thought, because I asked it myself, sotto voce. “I am advised that the cartel has exercised its privilege of enforcing a contract that has long been in place. It is their right to do that.  Bulger will not be contesting the suit, assuming that the final settlement terms are as reasonable as the proposal.

“In answer to a separate question, Bulger Spaceways will remain entitled to import rare earths for its own use, for the use of the Space Guard, and for export to Elizavetsia.  I anticipate that those uses will consume what we are importing, so we will not have a surplus leading to a further conflict with the cartel.

“Will do, nice and slow,” Cornelius answered, “and you two keep your eyes open for bodies, not that I’ve spotted any, but I’m going to be busy flying.”

Multiple passes over the disaster site produced the needed photographs.

“Could everyone have survived,” Charles asked, “and they all just walked off?  Follow the rails, well, the roadbed, until they reached Phoenix?”

“That many people, there would’ve been tracks,” Andrew responded.  “I know what a group of men marching through sand leaves behind. There were no signs. Besides, someone would’ve stayed here, out of stubbornness, or to tell a rescue party which way they went.”

Much of an hour later they reached Prescott.  They’d seen two more train wrecks, one leaving behind a huge crater where what appeared to  have been a load of dynamite had exploded.  They’d flown over a sea of broken glass, all strange colors, sunlight flashing from the ground wherever it caught a facet at the right angle.  The tiny towns along the rail line were equally missing, only foundations remaining.  They’d overflown a working locomotive, parked just short of the zone of devastation.

“The would-be airline talked the Prescott city fathers – that means in particular Miss Sparkes – into grading and gravelling a field near town,” Cornelius announced.  “I’ll overfly the town low a couple of times so they know I’m landing.  Governor was trying to tell them I’m coming, but phone and telegraph lines are all down.  And there’s the field.  It might even not be bumpy.”

The Oriole touched down, bounced twice, and taxied toward a waiting group of soberly dressed citizens.  A sheriff’s deputy kept the spectators safely back from the airplane.

“Gentlemen,” Cornelius announced, “I am going to put the tent over the cockpit, look for some shade, hopefully some iced tea, and await your return.”

“Be happy to join you, so soon as I get a few photos of the awaiting multitudes.”  Andrew pointed at the people now waving.

“I have to find a working phone line out,” Charles said. “There must be some. Governor gave me a letter asking people to help me, though I’m sure…he didn’t expect what happened.”

A long hour later, they were back in the air.

“How’d it go, Major?” Cornelius asked.  “I’m happy to follow the border of that yellow stuff, but not to fly over it again.  Sheriff wanted to rent use of my plane, then told me what his deputy saw on the ground.  Dead people?  Melted rails?  I told him about the melted trains, then played my ace.” 

“Your ace?” Andrew asked.

“I’ve got  a contract already,” Cornelius said emphatically.  “The Governor, for all day. And company says I don’t risk damaging the plane.”

“Wisely said.  He was polite?” Andrew considered that a Smith and Wesson beat five aces, but that was more what you saw in the Old South.

“Absolutely.” Cornelius smiled to himself.  “After all, his deputy is the Associate Sheriff, complete with Boston accent and a Harvard degree.  Harvard is that school in Massachusetts. Or maybe it’s New Hampshire. I never remember.”

“Group Leader Conti,” Pamela said, “ reports that there are groups of faculty members who want to meet with you, the student government group that wrote the report on academic standards would be delighted to speak to you whenever you want, there are several groups of administrators who wish to deliver their non-negotiable demands, and it goes on from there.”

“Pamela,” Chelan said, “you’re doing a magnificent job of listening to me and listening to Conti at the same time, which is perhaps asking too much. Please ask Conti it can find the half-dozen faculty members who wrote that peculiar report saying there was an issue here, and find the short list — I think there were four of them — of students who wrote the final draft of the student government report. Is the press there yet?”

“Apparently whoever organized this sent them notices while we were en route. Their local stringers reported that interesting things might happen, so there are at least four camera crews and a bunch of the classical press in attendence.”

“Oh, goody. That’s absolutely wonderful.” Chelan’s tone revealed a manifest lack of enthusiasm. “Okay, I get to make a statement.”  He paused for a moment.  “When I left home this morning, I anticipated a peacable arrival and taking of office.  I see that matters have changed.  I will be meeting with leading members of the Faculty and leading members of the student body about the current situation. I order former employees to go to their offices, pack up their belongings, and leave campus. I realize that some of those people will require significant freight support. Those persons may remain on-campus in their offices so long as they remain peaceable and do not disrupt the operations of the college.  I order the students who have joined in the disruption, in particular the occupation of Chancellor’s Hall, to leave the building immediately and return to their residences, or otherwise go about their academic business.  Students who have participated in the disruption will be subject to academic discipline, but the penalties for that participation will be greatly increased for students who do not promptly leave Chancellor’s Hall and elsewise allow the normal operation of the campus to resume. I call upon my friends in the faculty and student body to leave the area around Chancellor’s Hall so that the people inside may leave without feeling threatened.”

“Sir,” Pamela said, “Group Leader Conti asks that you postpone landing for a few minutes while reinforcements arrive for him. He suggests that you be seen to be flying around the campus slowly at low altitude waving out the windows. The press will be told you are inspecting the situation, so you have a clearer understanding of what is happening, before you land and attempt to put both feet in your mouth.”

“I endorse this wise advice,” Chelan said. “Fortunately, it is no longer the case that we have to worry about student demonstrators deploying surface-to-air missiles. Very well. Driver, let us start with a couple of loops around Chancellor’s Hall, loops around the whole campus, and then let us look at individual buildings. We just want enough altitude that no one can throw rocks at me.”

The National Technical College was a fine example of thoughtful last-century architecture. Chelan reminded himself that the style was old, but the buildings were actually quite recent.   

Facades were brick. Windows, especially on classrooms, were tall and undoubtedly double-glazed. Sidewalks between buildings were quite wide.  Building fronts faced a long central green crisscrossed with walkways. Wide driveways behind the buildings ensured that they could all be reached by truck. Student dormitories, uniformly three stories tall, were in a separate cluster.  He had no trouble spotting the ventilator shafts for the tunnels that meant that in inclement weather students could walk indoors to all of their classes.  At one end of the central green, a large stone building with two obvious modern additions had to be the library. His driver made elegant turns around each group of buildings, the Library getting several extra circles, and then a pass along the border with the town.

Pamela spoken to her throat mike, then waited for an answer.

“Conti,” Pamela said, “reports that the College was built on unorganized land, so the local jurisdiction is Federal, not state or local, but he can phone up the local sheriff without giving him any problems.”

“Do we know why they’re doing this? Do we know what they want?” Chelan asked.

“It reads like something out of one of those interregnum historical pot-boilers,” Pamela answered. She shook her head. “Apparently the former Chancellor announced today was a holiday, told everyone on the staff to stay home, and when the protesters occupied the Hall, at first no one allegedly knew they were doing this. Outside the building, there are whole bunch of students and faculty who are on the other side. The two groups are shouting names at each other.”

“When did all this start?” Chelan asked. “I would’ve thought that we haaad some advance warning that there was a problem.”

“Conti says that there was a meeting on one of the athletic fields,” Pamela said, “and at some point the people who don’t want you marched over here and occupied the building. There was some amount of underground organization, since Conti says this demonstration didn’t seem to be spontaneous. He emphasizes that he still trying to find out what’s really going on, since our people on the ground were on the far side of campus, parked to defend the library in accord with Seldon Legion customs.”

“Did someone threaten the library?” Chelan asked, his tone of voice suddenly turning much grimmer. 

“That’s a negative, sir,” Pamela answered.

“We seem to have a good example of what happens when you don’t have adequate intelligence or people on the ground in advance,” Chelan said.  “If I’d known this was happening, I could have advanced to the local Residence Inn, announced I was having a delayed breakfast, and let our good people find out what was happening without the people inside the Hall getting to claim that they’d disrupted the Senate’s plans.  Now I’m committed to landing, waving at people, and giving the folks inside the Hall some cockamamie claim that they’d won.”

“I’ve seen train wrecks,” Andrew answered, “press photographers see more than the rail companies would like, but usually railcars hold up better than that. Those look flattened, with pieces like wheels trailing behind them.  Okay, I’ll get my photographs. I don’t see anyone who survived the crash waving.”

“We should be good on fuel, shouldn’t we?” Charles asked. “Not that you wouldn’t of spoken up, Cornelius, if we were wasting too much of it.”

“There’s not much wind,” Cornelius answered. “We can do 500 miles, easy, especially if we go up a few thousand feet.  But I’d like to reach Prescott to tell people what happened.”

“Let’s keep heading there,” Charles said emphatically. “we still have three missing trains, one of which was carrying passengers.”

A few minutes flight brought them to the remains of the mortal vessel of the passenger train. 

“This time they stayed on the tracks,” Cornelius announced. “But those cars.  They’re burned down to the floorboards.  And the locomotive looks half-melted.”

“Old cars,” Andrew said. “I’ve ridden on them.  Bottom is steel or cast iron, top is mostly wood.  The wood is gone.”

“Where are the survivors?” Andrew asked.  “Or at least the bodies.  Surely someone managed to jump from a burning car?”

“For that matter,” Andrew said, “that’s a signal, a new one of steel, looks half bent over, but there should be a signal tower. Let’s circle around again, though I think I see the tower’s foundation.  Tower is gone, no sign of the signalmen.  What could’ve happened?”

“Could we do a couple of passes, so I can get enough pictures?” Charles shook his head. These were going to be unbelievable photographs, he thought, for the Rising Sun, in fact for the national press. I  might even get a Pulitzer Prize out of it.  It was certainly a pretty medal if I win one.  

The second paper was accepted, and has been published in Polymers. A Third Paper went out the door to Studies in Philosophy and History of Science. A fourth paper is fairly close to being submitted, except that on due consideration I have to redo all of the figures to make them easier to read. I did something standard, and something slightly different will make matters much clearer. Polishing the writing of that paper and tuning ca. 100 figures is my current project.

At that point I see several choices of a next technical paper. One is a repeat of past analyses on Rouse modes and mean-square displacements, except applied to blends. Another is a paper whose working title is “The deGennes-Doi-Edwards Model of Polymer Dynamics is Wrong at All Points”. For a third, a problem I have been trying to solve for 40 years, and think I finally see how, assuming that the approach is correct, which I do not yet know, namely extending the hydrodynamic scaling model to the time domain to calculate detailed time dynamics of polymer motions.

“Yes, ma’am.” Bell smiled.  “Bulger actually assembled everything needed to build starships, and when he couldn’t, had a good crew mothball the works.  Challenge is that the full construction works would need a lot of people to run them.  That’s more people than can fit on our payroll, with current incomes.  But a detour gets us a solution.”

“Detour?” Morningstar asked.  “Victor has been justly emphatic…we need to focus completely on getting the yards and ships up and running.”

“For his long-term objectives,” Bell said, “he needs lots of things.  The detour gets one of these.  We have all these molecular spray systems being brough back to operation.  We have the rare earth concentrates we can’t sell. But we can build low-field fusactors.  And the hypothetical  Bulger Electric can sell the electricity they produce.”

“We can build fusactors?” Morningstar asked.  “Safety issues?”

“Exact copies of the units we already have,”  Bell asnwered.  “We have the CAD-CAM plans.  They aren’t traditional civilian low-field systems, which can be made with conventional machining but gobble huge amounts of rare earths to build, so, for example, Australia has all of two fusactors.  Lots more are on order, but rare earth supply was the bottleneck.  We have smaller units, which you can’t build without molecular spray, but which require far less in terms of transition elements to build.”    

A Peaceful Academic Environment

Victor Chelan’s aircar overflew the National Technical College and began its final approach to the parking area near Chancellor’s Hall.  Ahead of him, another, larger air car filled with his Seldon Legion bodyguards had already landed, the bodyguards deploying in a ring around the area where he would set foot.

“Compliments of Group Leader Conti,” Pamela Davis said, “and he has secured the landing zone. He reports, however, that Chancellor’s Hall has been occupied by protesting faculty and students, and asked what he wants done about it.”

“Occupied?” Chelan said. “How positively twentieth-century of them.  I wonder where they came up with that idea.  Has anyone notified the local authorities yet? This appears to be a case for the constabulary.”