"Second, to wipe out such a civilization would almost certainly take a lot more than just one major bolide, unless it was something several orders of magnitude bigger than the Chicxulub impact. But there's only one 'target' symbol on Earth, although there are a considerable number on Mars and a few on other bodies around the Solar System."
Helen shook her head. "No, I'm not sure what they were shooting at, but it certainly wasn't a bunch of civilized dinosaurs."
"Do you think there might be traces around Chicxulub?" asked Jane.
A.J. shook his head doubtfully. "Dunno. I wouldn't think so, but then we don't know what the hell they were throwing asteroids at.
Cthulhu and the Great Old Ones in R'lyeh? It's possible, I suppose, if whatever they were fighting was built really well. The impact might well have killed everyone off but left some pieces we could recognize if we're looking for them."
He stopped and waited expectantly.
Then she realized they were all staring at her, waiting.
Mentally she kicked herself. "Oh, I'm sorry. You're waiting for my approval. Please, go ahead, transmit this. It doesn't give away any useful technical details, which is all I'm officially assigned to watch for. And—who knows?—somebody might decide to go excavate Chi . . . Chick . . . Chicken Little. Whatever. Once you tell them."
"Chicxulub," Helen said, enunciating the syllables through a wide smile. "All right, Rich, Jane, we have a joint paper to write, as we're just about squarely in the middle of all our disciplines."
As Helen and the two linguists launched into a discussion of the projected paper, A.J. left the table and came over to Madeline.
"Thanks," he said quietly. "I figured there wouldn't be a problem, but you did stick yourself with the job of clearing everything."
"Yes, I did." She frowned. "Actually, I am concerned about this, although I see no reason to keep it secret. I've heard the arguments as to why we aren't going to meet Bemmius or any of his relatives, after all this time, and I'd presume all those arguments apply to any other species that were contemporaneous with them as well. But, still, I have to wonder—if they were fighting something that existed on more than one world at once, wouldn't that something else also be able to detect and stop things like that? And if so, how do you manage to hit them with falling rocks?"
"Yeah. That is a question. Maybe we'll get an answer when we look over the rest of the base and start sifting through the pieces that remain of the puzzle." A. J. shook his head. "Wouldn't that have been a hell of a fight to see?"
"It would," Madeline said quietly. "Pray that we don't."
She saw by the sudden widening of his eyes that he had abruptly made the connection to her job. "Yes, that is what I have to think about. Every day."
"You can't prevent scientific progress, though—or hide technology forever." His tone wasn't mocking, but serious. "In the end, people will find out anything you're trying to hide, and there's no way you can keep them from using it. You do realize that, don't you? Or do you actually believe that you can stuff the genie back into the bottle?"
"Yes. No. Most of the time, maybe and maybe not. And some days I'm not sure what I believe anymore. I'm sorry this whole situation exists, A.J., I really am. But I'm also very much afraid of what might happen to the world if certain things get out of control."
"Can't say I entirely blame you. Joe says you have good reasons, and I trust Joe. Speaking of which, go see him."
She looked away. "He told me not to speak to him. 'For a while,' he said. But since I don't know what that means, I thought I should let him decide."
"Yeah, I know. But . . ."
A.J. seemed torn. He started to reach for her arm, obviously to lead her out of the conference room. Then, drew it back sharply, as if he'd spotted a viper.
"Jesus!" she heard him hiss. "I lay so much as a finger on you, Helen will have my scalp."
A.J. turned the dramatic withdrawal of his hand into an equally dramatic gesture of invitation. "C'mon, Madeline, let's go somewhere else to talk. Ladies first."
As she preceded him out of the room, Madeline found herself in a good humor for the first time in days. Once they were in the corridor beyond, she looked at him over her shoulder.
"Did she really make you sleep on the couch?"
"Sure did. And let me tell you, even at one-third gravity that couch was lumpy."
"Good for her!"
A.J. smiled. "Funny. That's exactly what she said about you. We gotta veritable feminazi Waffen SS on this moon."