Helen pursed her lips. "Well . . . it's not short. Not even for paleontologists or geologists. Not even for astronomers, really, although for them it's starting to get into the small change area. Still . . . yes, I see your point. It's about one tenth of the time since complex life first began emerging on Earth in the Cambrian Explosion. And a still smaller portion of the time since the galaxy formed."
"Right. So who's to say it can't happen again? In fact, is almost bound to happen again—hopefully later rather than sooner; but eventually, no matter what."
The sight of everyone staring at her made Madeline chuckle. At night, in their suits, their eyes looked very beady indeed.
"Yeah, sure, I know it's a paranoid way of looking at things. Folks, that's what I do. Security. In a way, I guess, you could say that's what I am."
By now, they all knew her personal history. She felt herself shiver, slightly. "Not since I was a child have I ever been able to forget that the universe produces Washington LaFayettes just as surely and just as inexorably as it produces butterflies and buttercups. So it's my job—my life, if you will—to keep an eye out for them."
Silence, for a minute or so. Then A.J. said: "Now, I see. Jesus, you are one smart cookie."
"Thanks. Like I said, I had to meddle in policy issues I normally wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. But I didn't see where my responsibilities—even my oath, when you got right down to it— gave me any choice." She took a deep breath, letting it out almost like a long, protracted sigh. "They would have fiddled and faddled and done their best to keep a lid on it. Put the brakes, as soon as they could, on the space program of our country because they wanted the money for something else—and put them on, even harder, on any other country's. Now, they can't. With every American citizen—the whole world—knowing of the tremendous advances we could get from studying the Bemmie base on Phobos and here in Melas Chasma . . ."
"And Rich and Jane say there are plenty of indications there may be other installations on the moons of Jupiter and Saturn," Helen added.
Madeline nodded, still looking up. "They can't keep a lid on it, now. If nothing else, even if it turns out we can't decipher any of the Bemmie secrets, we'll have several interplanetary ships built that'll last for decades and an ongoing and self-sustaining presence on Mars. The genie will be out of the bottle. It'll be a mess, I know. But at least it'll be a dynamic mess, that gets us out into space and starts providing us with protection before anything happens."
She shrugged, the gesture being as difficult as it always was in the tight-fitting suits. "I'll still keep any military secrets restricted. But that's never more than a short-term business, anyway. The main thing is that the human race will now come boiling out into space. Where we won't be sitting ducks, any longer. Hopefully, my country will remain in the lead, but if it stops being so at some point . . . Well, in the end, I figure that the national security of the United States doesn't mean much if it isn't part of the security of the whole human race. So piss on it. These things all tend to even out in the wash, give it long enough."
Finally, she lowered her head. She could never stare at that starblaze, for too long. As glorious as it undoubtedly was, eventually she started seeing LaFayette's face in the constellations of a maniac galaxy.
"I'd like to go to our bubble now, Joe. I love it, in there."
"Sure, sweetheart." He took her by the hand and started leading her away. "Me, I'm just happy to still be here. My notion of 'security' is a lot more tightly-defined than yours, I'm afraid. After all that's happened—two crashes, exploding lab, collapsing tunnel—Joe Buckley is mainly just wondering why he's still alive."
"Oh, look!" exclaimed A.J. "Is that a meteor I see streaking toward us?"
The chorus responded. "SHUT UP, A.J.!"
Rich Skibow emerged from the rover. "Hey, A.J.—can you make up another of those rings? Jane said 'yes'!"