earnest environmentalists, each eager to prevent any activity that might contaminate the native life-forms.
Goethe Base
Dante Alexios sat rigidly in his chair and tried not to let his satisfaction show on his face. The wall screen in his office clearly showed the earnest, intent expression on Molina’s face.
He wants to come down to the base, Alexios said to himself, delighted. He’s asking me for permission to come down here.
“My mission is sanctioned by the International Astronautical Authority,” Molina was saying, “as well as the International Consortium of Universities and the science foundations of—”
“Of course,” Alexios interrupted, “of course. I have no intention of interfering with your important research, Dr. Molina. I was merely trying to explain to you that conditions down here on the surface are rather difficult. Our base is still fairly rugged, you know.”
Molina’s intent expression softened into a smug smile. “I’ve been in rugged places before, Mr. Alexios. You should see the site on Europa, with all that radiation to protect against.”
“I can imagine,” Alexios replied dryly.
“Then you have no objection to my coming down to your base?”
“None whatsoever,” said Alexios. “Our facility is at your disposal.” Molina’s bright blue eyes sparkled. “Wonderful! I’ll start the preparations immediately.”
And with that, Molina ended the transmission. Alexios’s wall screen went suddenly blank. He didn’t bother to thank me, or even to say good-bye, Alexios thought. How like Victor, still as impetuous and self-centered as ever.
Alexios got up from his chair and stretched languidly, surprised at how tense his body had become during his brief conversation with the astrobiologist.
Victor didn’t recognize me, Alexios said to himself. Not the slightest flicker of recall. Of course, it’s been more than ten years and the nanosurgery has altered my face considerably. But he didn’t even remember my voice. I’m dead and gone, as far as he’s concerned.
All to the good, Alexios told himself. Now he’ll come down here on his fool’s errand and destroy himself.
I’ll hardly have to lift a finger. He’s eager to rush to his own annihilation.
Alexios dreamed troubling dreams that night. The steel-hard determination that had brought him to Mercury and lured Victor Molina to this hellhole of a world softened as he slept, thawed slightly as he sank into the uncontrollable world of his inner thoughts, the world that he kept hidden and firmly locked away during his waking hours.
In his dream he was standing once again at the base of the sky-tower, craning his neck to follow its rigidly straight line as it rose beyond the clouds, up, up, farther than the eye could follow, stretching up toward the stars.
Lara was standing beside him, her arm around his waist, her head resting on his strong shoulder. The diamond ring on her finger was his, not Victor’s. She had chosen him and rejected Molina. Alexios turned to her, took her in his arms, kissed her with all the tenderness and love his soul could contain.
But she pulled away from him, suddenly terrified. Her lovely face contorted into a scream as the proud tower began to slowly collapse, writhing like an immense snake of man-made fibers, coiling languidly, uncontrollably, unstoppably, as it slowly but inexorably crashed to the ground. All in silence. In utter silence, as if he had suddenly gone completely deaf. Alexios wanted to scream, too, but his throat was frozen. He wanted to stop the tower’s collapse with his bare hands, but he could not move, his feet were rooted to the spot.
The immense collapsing tower smashed into the workers’ village and beyond, crushing houses and cinderblock work buildings, smashing the bodies of men, women, and children as it thundered to the ground, pulverizing dreams and plans and hopes beyond repair. The whole mountainside shook as dust rose to cover all the work, all the sweat