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Authors: John Maddox Roberts, Eric Kotani
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of his committee. The only members missing were Tarkovsky, from the U.S.S.R., and Novotny from Czechoslovakia. The eight that were present came from the U.S., Canada, Western Europe and Japan: among them most of the best known names in cometary research.
Bridges sat between Sam and Laine, muttering thumbnail sketches of the members as they entered. Last to come in was a gnomish, bearded little man, not quite five feet tall. Sam had seen him around during the last two days, usually glaring about in a sort of silent fury, occasionally buttonholing some reluctant listener for a lengthy harangue on some esoteric subject. People seemed anxious to avoid him.
"And that," Bridges said with a chuckle, "is Dr. Ugo Ciano. Born in Brooklyn, teaches in Honolulu now. One of the most brilliant men working in the field today and a hundred percent certified loony. Astronomy and astrophysics are full of eccentrics, but Ciano has 'em all beat. He's always diving off the deep end into some fringe area. It'd be okay if he'd stick to his own field, where he's preeminent, but he's into all sort of fringe areas, you name it. He's living proof that a scientist can be levelheaded in his own specialty and an utter crank anywhere else."
Sam went to the table along one wall of the meeting room where a coffee urn was surrounded by cups and drew himself some fortification against the talking to come.
"I come allaway here from Hawaii and Tarkovsky don't show!" Sam looked around to find the source of the voice, then he looked down. It was Ciano. The tiny man stood not much higher than his elbow, filling a cup with coffee.
"That's tough," Sam said, noncommittally.
"I'll say it is," Ciano went on, oblivious to Sam's lack of interest. "I had a few words I wanted to say to him about that Tunguska business. I read his paper on the subject. I coulda got some valuable work done here, and now there's nothing to do but listen to these jerks mouth off."
Sam was intrigued. The voice was amazingly young. The man's dwarfish physiognomy and grizzled beard gave an impression of age, but he now saw that Professor Ciano was not out of his twenties. Ciano studied him as intently. "I never seen you before. You ain't an astronomer, are you?"
"No, I'm afraid not," Sam said.
"I didn't think so. You look like you got some brains. Well, looks like the old Kraut's gonna talk. See you later." Ciano went and took a seat. The two chairs flanking his remained conspicuously vacant.
Ehlers introduced the two special guests: Laine Tammsalu, formerly of the University of Tartu in Estonia and more recently of the Tsiolkovsky Center for Space Research, and Sam Taggart of the Department of State. Sam, naturally, did not correct the slight misaccreditation. Ehlers yielded the podium to Laine and sat down in the front row.
Despite the slight handicap of expressing herself In English, Laine's presentation was incisive and fascinating and her audience listened with rapt attention. She was not at all handicapped by the fact I hat she was by far the most attractive astronomer in the room. Sam felt an oddly ticklish, totally unprofessional sense of pride. Then he noticed Ciano. The little man was not simply listening to Laine like the others. He was processing every word and turning them over in his mind, fitting them together in different combinations. Sam could all but hear the gears, wheels and tumblers whir and click in the man's head.
When Laine finished her talk, Ehlers rose to ask for questions or comments from the audience. Several questions followed but it was obvious that the other committee members were equally at a loss as to why deputy premier and former KGB chief Nekrasov had taken a personal interest in cometary probes and had given top priority to the manned missions to comets. No one could see any tangible scientific returns from landing a manned space-craft on a chunk of dirty cosmic ice ball only a few kilometers across. The possible returns seemed wholly inadequate in
Bridges sat between Sam and Laine, muttering thumbnail sketches of the members as they entered. Last to come in was a gnomish, bearded little man, not quite five feet tall. Sam had seen him around during the last two days, usually glaring about in a sort of silent fury, occasionally buttonholing some reluctant listener for a lengthy harangue on some esoteric subject. People seemed anxious to avoid him.
"And that," Bridges said with a chuckle, "is Dr. Ugo Ciano. Born in Brooklyn, teaches in Honolulu now. One of the most brilliant men working in the field today and a hundred percent certified loony. Astronomy and astrophysics are full of eccentrics, but Ciano has 'em all beat. He's always diving off the deep end into some fringe area. It'd be okay if he'd stick to his own field, where he's preeminent, but he's into all sort of fringe areas, you name it. He's living proof that a scientist can be levelheaded in his own specialty and an utter crank anywhere else."
Sam went to the table along one wall of the meeting room where a coffee urn was surrounded by cups and drew himself some fortification against the talking to come.
"I come allaway here from Hawaii and Tarkovsky don't show!" Sam looked around to find the source of the voice, then he looked down. It was Ciano. The tiny man stood not much higher than his elbow, filling a cup with coffee.
"That's tough," Sam said, noncommittally.
"I'll say it is," Ciano went on, oblivious to Sam's lack of interest. "I had a few words I wanted to say to him about that Tunguska business. I read his paper on the subject. I coulda got some valuable work done here, and now there's nothing to do but listen to these jerks mouth off."
Sam was intrigued. The voice was amazingly young. The man's dwarfish physiognomy and grizzled beard gave an impression of age, but he now saw that Professor Ciano was not out of his twenties. Ciano studied him as intently. "I never seen you before. You ain't an astronomer, are you?"
"No, I'm afraid not," Sam said.
"I didn't think so. You look like you got some brains. Well, looks like the old Kraut's gonna talk. See you later." Ciano went and took a seat. The two chairs flanking his remained conspicuously vacant.
Ehlers introduced the two special guests: Laine Tammsalu, formerly of the University of Tartu in Estonia and more recently of the Tsiolkovsky Center for Space Research, and Sam Taggart of the Department of State. Sam, naturally, did not correct the slight misaccreditation. Ehlers yielded the podium to Laine and sat down in the front row.
Despite the slight handicap of expressing herself In English, Laine's presentation was incisive and fascinating and her audience listened with rapt attention. She was not at all handicapped by the fact I hat she was by far the most attractive astronomer in the room. Sam felt an oddly ticklish, totally unprofessional sense of pride. Then he noticed Ciano. The little man was not simply listening to Laine like the others. He was processing every word and turning them over in his mind, fitting them together in different combinations. Sam could all but hear the gears, wheels and tumblers whir and click in the man's head.
When Laine finished her talk, Ehlers rose to ask for questions or comments from the audience. Several questions followed but it was obvious that the other committee members were equally at a loss as to why deputy premier and former KGB chief Nekrasov had taken a personal interest in cometary probes and had given top priority to the manned missions to comets. No one could see any tangible scientific returns from landing a manned space-craft on a chunk of dirty cosmic ice ball only a few kilometers across. The possible returns seemed wholly inadequate in
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