Contact - Carl Sagan [176]
Ellie did not see how this represented much progress, and asked him to clarify. The key problem was holding the wormhole open. Eda had found a class of solutions to his field equations that suggested a new macroscopic field, a kind of tension that could be used to prevent a wormhole from contracting fully. Such a wormhole would pose none of the other problems of black holes; it would have much smaller tidal stresses, two-way access, quick transit times as measured by an exterior observer, and no devastating interior radiation field. "I don't know whether the tunnel is stable against small perturbations," he said. "If not, they would have to build a very elaborate feedback system to monitor and correct the instabilities. I'm not yet sure of any of this. But at least if the tunnels can be Einstein-Rosen bridges, we can give some answer when they tell us we were hallucinating,"
Eda was eager to return to Lagos, and she could see the green ticket of Nigerian Airlines peeking out of his jacket pocket. He wondered if he could completely work through the new physics their experience had implied. But he confessed himself unsure that he would be equal to the task, especially because of what he described as his advanced age for theoretical physics. He was thirty-eight. Most of all, he told Ellie, he was desperate to be reunited with his wife and children.
She embraced Eda. She told him that she was proud to have known him.
"Why the past tense?" he asked. "You will certainly see me again. And Ellie," he added, almost as an afterthought, "will you do something for me? Remember everything that happened, every detail. Write it down. And send it to me. Our experience represents experimental data. One of us may have seen some point that the others missed, something essential for a deep understanding of what happened. Send me what you write. I have asked the others to do the same."
He waved, lifted his battered briefcase, and was ushered into the waiting project car.
They were departing for their separate nations, and it felt to Ellie as if her own family were being sundered, broken, dispersed. She too had found the experience transforming. How could she not? A demon had been exorcised. Several. And just when she felt more capable of love than she had ever been, she found herself alone.
They spirited her out of the facility by helicopter. On the long flight to Washington in the government airplane, she slept so soundly that they had to shake her awake when the White House people came aboard- just after the aircraft landed briefly on an isolated runway at Hickam Field, Hawaii.
They had made a bargain. She could go back to Argus, although no longer as director, and pursue any scientific problem she pleased. She had, if she liked, lifetime tenure.
"We're not unreasonable," Kitz had finally said in agreeing to the compromise. "You come back with a solid, piece of evidence, something really convincing, and we'll join you in making the announcement. We'll say we asked you to keep the story quiet until we could be absolutely sure. Within reason, we'll support any research you want to do. If we announce the story now, though, there'll be an initial wave of enthusiasm and then the skeptics will start carping. It'll embarrass you and it'll embarrass us. Much better to gather the evidence, if you can." Perhaps the President had helped him change his mind. It was unlikely Kitz was enjoying the compromise.
But in return she must say nothing about what had happened aboard the Machine. The Five had sat down in the dodecahedron, talked among themselves, and then walked off. If she breathed a word of anything else, the spurious psychiatric profile would find its way to the media and, reluctantly, she would be dismissed.
She