THE LARGE AND THE SMALL
Uhlrich shot to his feet. “Cracked?” he shrieked.
The man on the screen looked as if he’d rather be roasting on a spit. “Yessir. Halfway up the slope the rig slewed off the road and … and the mirror slid off and cracked. Too much torsional strain, even in the frame that was holding it.”
For an instant Trudy thought that Professor Uhlrich was going to have a stroke. His face went red, then chalk white. His fists clenched at his sides.
“How could it slip off the road?” he demanded. “How could you allow such a stupid, criminal thing to happen? You’ve ruined everything!”
The man on the screen looked weary, spent. His bearded face was sheened with perspiration, his dark hair matted, plastered over his forehead. But his expression hardened as Uhlrich berated him.
“Look, Professor, I tried to warn you about the risks. You try lugging a hundred-meter-wide chunk of glass across those mountains. I told you it’d be chancy.”
“Don’t you understand that we’re in a race? A race against time! And you’ve ruined two years’ work! Two years’ work!”
In a race? Trudy asked herself. Then she remembered that the IAA was building a humongous interferometer in space. Professor Uhlrich wants to beat them, she realized. He wants to get the Farside Observatory running before the IAA can complete its project. Holy spit, no wonder he’s blazing.
Uhlrich slumped back into his chair, then stared at the screen with undisguised contempt. “You built that road, Mr. Simpson. You vouched for it, you told me the mirror could be transported across the ringwall safely. You—”
“Professor, I built the road to the specifications that Nate Oberman set out and you okayed. I told Oberman that we ought to make the grading easier, all those switchbacks were a risk. But you ordered Nate to push it through as fast as possible. You told us you were willing to take the risks. So now you’re paying the price.”
“Oberman assured me that the road would be perfectly safe!”
“Professor, I warned you it would be a crapshoot.”
“I don’t remember such a warning,” Uhlrich said stubbornly.
“Transporting that mirror isn’t like taking a walk in the frigging park, what with those switchbacks and all. If we’d had more time to build the road better—”
“Oberman assured me!”
“And I tried to tell you both we needed more time to make the road better. But neither of you listened to me.”
With a shake of his head, Uhlrich moaned, “We’ll have to start all over again.”
“For what it’s worth,” said the man on the screen, his voice more conciliatory, “I’m sorry about it.”
“Bring it back,” Uhlrich told him. “We’ll have to remelt the glass and spin it all over again.”
The face on the screen nodded tightly.
“And report to me the instant you get back here,” Uhlrich added. “I want you and Oberman in my office as soon as you return. The very instant!”
“Yessir,” the younger man said. Then his image winked off.
“Two years’ work,” Uhlrich muttered again, shaking his head in misery.
McClintock spoke up. “Maybe we can repair the mirror.”
Uhlrich gave him a withering look. “Repair? The telescope’s main mirror? It’s ruined! Ruined!”
Smiling easily at the professor, McClintock said, “I understand that the mirror’s got to have very exact tolerances, but mightn’t it be possible to repair it using nanotechnology?”
“Nanomachines?” Uhlrich gasped.
McClintock replied patiently, “I know nanotech is banned on Earth. But here on the Moon it’s used every day. The world’s leading nanotechnology expert, Dr. Kristine Cardenas, is over at Selene.”
“Nanomachines,” Uhlrich repeated. From the dark tone of his voice, Trudy half expected the professor to cross himself or pull out a silver crucifix.
“I could at least meet with Dr. Cardenas and see what she thinks of the possibilities,” McClintock urged.
“Nanomachines can be dangerous,” Uhlrich murmured. “They have been used to assassinate people.”
“That’s why they’re banned on Earth, of course,” McClintock said easily. “But here on the Moon you don’t have ten or twelve billion crackpots running loose. Everybody here has been tested, examined for mental stability and technical talent, haven’t they? The population of Selene is selected for intelligence and social compatibility. There are no murderers on the Moon, no fanatics or terrorists.”
Trudy wondered if that was true. She certainly hoped so.
Uhlrich stared at McClintock in grim silence.
“I really think we should at least look at the possibilities,” McClintock repeated.
“Do you?” Uhlrich muttered.
“Yes, I do. I strongly recommend it.”
Trudy felt puzzled. There was something going on between the two of them, something more than the words they were uttering.
At last Uhlrich sighed and said, “Very well, Mr. McClintock, go ahead and see what Dr. Cardenas has to say about this problem. I don’t suppose it would hurt anything to talk to her.”
McClintock rose to his feet, all smiles. “Good. I’ll call her right away.”
The professor turned back to Trudy. She could see that he was sizzling, angry. But his eyes were strange; he was looking in her direction, but not directly at her. He made a bitter smile.
“Dr. Yost, I’m afraid I don’t feel up to giving you the orientation presentation I had planned.”
“I understand, sir,” said Trudy. “Maybe somebody else could do it?”
“No. I’ll meet with you first thing tomorrow morning. Make it eight A.M. No—seven thirty.”
“Seven thirty sharp. Here in your office?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Right.”
“In the meantime,” Uhlrich said, “I’ll get someone from the staff to show you around this facility. So that your day won’t be totally wasted.”
“That’ll be fine,” Trudy replied.
She rose and headed for the door, which McClintock was already sliding open.
Turning, Trudy saw Uhlrich sink his head in his hands. He looked as if he were going to cry.