Free Watson, Ian - Novel 11 by Chekhov's Journey (v1.1) Page B

catch up with Earth a couple of hundred thousand
years ago—and we’ll colonise it in desperation!’’
                 “And
become our own ancestors?’’ Sasha looked affronted.
                 ‘And
my pet fly, the ancestor of a mighty dynasty of flies . . .’
                 “The
Universe doesn’t allow such things. The Principle of Cosmic Censorship
absolutely forbids subversion of cause and effect. We’ll find our star, never
fear! Humanity will colonise the cosmos.’’
                 “A
little bit of the cosmos, anyway . . . Hmm, it’s a pity the Flux-Field has a
one-track mind. If we could go anywhere we pleased—’’
                 “But
the Principle of World-Line Constancy strongly dictates—’’
                 “Sure
it does. Just wishing, that’s all.”
                 “It’s
a far nobler use we’re putting the
Flux to, than those mad Americans.”
                 Captain America ’s Shield: she was right, there . . .
                 The
official reason for the Flux-Shield, which could be switched on at a moment’s
notice to blanket America, was that if any giant meteor or comet-head came
zooming in on collision course with US territory, the Shield would bat it on
its way—zipping it ten years into the past and ten light years in the direction
of Columba, a piece of symbolism which no doubt appealed to those in power in
District Columbia . . .
                 But likewise with any Soviet satellite or missile platform
overflying US territory. With a flick of the wrist these, too, could
be knocked right out of the stadium. Any war, now, would simply leave Earth’s
path through space ten billion billion kilometres hindwards littered with
missiles and satellites and Soviet personnel staring glumly out at the
interstellar void—like a trail of beer cans bobbing far to the rear of the
liner, Earth.
                Sasha drifted to Anton’s side;
together they peered along the ship. All supply ferries had departed some hours
ago, leaving the K. E. Tsiolkovsky alone in deep orbit a safe distance beyond the reach of Captain America ’s Shield—should any malicious soul in Cheyenne feel tempted to send them on their way,
untimely. Why should anyone do so? Why, out of sheer irritation. Since there
was no reason at all why a starship should be streamlined, their ship was built
in the shape of a huge Hammer and Sickle.
                 The
hammer shaft contained the fusion reactor jets capable of carrying them up to
half a light year, once Sasha decided they were close enough to a friendly star
system. The sickle shaft contained storage bays, and the polished blade of the
sickle itself was a huge sweep of solar power cells. At the geometrical centre
of the ship, where both shafts intersected, was the Flux-Drive. And up here in
the head of the hammer were the crew quarters and control section; directly
beneath this a thousand hypnotised colonists lay in yogic trance in rack upon
rack, their body functions ticking over at a hundredth of the normal metabolic
rate.
                 How
very provoking to the Americans to see the Hammer and Sickle thus floating in
space! But in another hour or so it would disappear forever, to become the
little moon of another world. The onboard shuttles would descend ten times
over, till the moon was empty. Thereafter the celestial Hammer and Sickle would
shine down forever more upon New Earth as an orbiting monument, the only
possible link—a symbolic one—with the USSR.
                 Being
alone with Sasha Sorina, with only the stars staring in, Anton Astrov thought
of kissing her impetuously to celebrate. But she might slap him for
impertinence. It wouldn’t do to start the greatest voyage of all time with a
red handprint on one’s cheek.
     

TWELVE
                 On the morning when Countess Zelenina
called on Anton