General points:   3    Family Reunion     "A call for you Arthur, Priority One, must be important," announced Sergio Baldoni.  It was Sergio's shift at the communication console which regulations stipulated had to be manned continuously; a duty usually undertaken by the radio staff since the console was located in their control room. Lincoln sat up abruptly.  Sergio probably wasn't aware how important Priority One was.  No call higher than Priority Three had ever before been received at the base.  In the few seconds it took to reach the console he had considered about four different reasons for the call and dismissed them all. "Lincoln here, over." "Hello again Arthur, glad I've managed to get you so quickly.  Thought you might have been asleep," said a vaguely familiar voice that he struggled to place.  'Get on with it,' he thought impatiently, still weighing possibilities. "George Dent here, I have a proposition for you." George Dent! How could he not have known that voice?  George Dent, President of the World Space Administration. A proposition to consider he had said.  A proposition from George Dent was an irrefutable order.  This man with his indomitable drive and enthusiasm had conceived the seemingly naive possibility of a world space organisation, independent of political, military, commercial or any other prejudiced interest.  The sheer weight of his personality and dogged persistence had mown down all objectors.  He achieved his goal and now ran his empire with efficiency and purpose.  Yet for people who shared his vision he was an approachable man.  His disposition was as warm to those who were committed to his goals as it was cold to those who were not.  He inspired confidence and fired enthusiasm, and his influence had radically altered world attitudes to space research and exploration.  He had founded an unparalleled organisation, an interconnected mesh of investigation into all fields of science and technology.  And all with just one clear aim, to bring about what he believed to be the birthright of mankind - the freedom of the universe.  There was no-one anywhere more respected, honoured or admired.  Within the WSA his word was law, not because he would punish disobedience but because he was right.  He had the best interests of humanity at heart and everyone knew it. "I want you to come and have a chat about this signal from Procyon.  We've been taken very much by surprise by the directness of the contact and I think we should put our heads together to sort out a plan of action.  What do you say?" "Well I'm not sure how I can help but I'd be glad to try.  I'll come over on the next shuttle.  I'll have to check transport times and let you know but I can probably be at the WSA inside ten days." "Thought you'd say that.  In fact a ferry from Clavius is on its way over right now to pick you up.  I believe it will be there within the hour so you've just enough time to pack your essentials; your other gear can be sent later.  It might be a while before you're back with your telescopes." Lincoln was speechless.  This was a bit sudden.  But then that was Dent, he would have an idea and set the wheels in motion immediately.  "Well... right... I'd better get sorted out then." "You do that Arthur, I'll be expecting you, see you soon, out." Last minute instructions were unnecessary.  Lincoln's team was a highly trained and professional group of people who knew exactly what was expected of them.  In the short time available and with the shock still scrambling his thoughts he would not have been able to give any sensible directions in any case.  He did manage to dash round saying a brief farewell and, "See Sergio, he knows as much as I do," in reply to the looks of bewilderment that met him.  An overnight bag was all he needed to pack.  All his working clothes and equipment were left at the base and his personal belongings were few. A surface vehicle was quickly prepared to take him over to the launch pad.  A last word with his closest friends who had gathered to wish him well, a final wave and he was gone.  His friends watched the car slowly disappear into the distance towards the pad twenty kilometres away and a deep sadness pervaded the little group.  They knew they might well never see Arthur Lincoln here again.  A close family-like atmosphere had developed as it did in all closed communities, and the loss of any member changed that atmosphere for all the rest.  He had been well liked and would be missed. In the car Lincoln's thoughts turned to home.  In all the rush and bustle he hadn't had time to feel any excitement.  But within a few days he would be with his family again.  Only four months of his nine-month tour of duty had been completed and thoughts of earth had waned.  A lunar astronomer's life was not an easy one for a family man.  Nine months on base and three months home had been the pattern for the past five years and he fully intended to continue for another five.  The emotional strain was hard to take sometimes, especially for his wife, but she had adjusted to it.  The worst part was when some family crisis occurred and his support could only be given by radio.  Emma had only once given full vent to her feelings of frustration.  It had been two years ago when their eldest son needed an emergency eye operation after an accident.  Lincoln would have given anything to be with his family just then.  To suffer the anguish from such a distance was intolerable.  He had resigned his post and was ready to leave on the next shuttle but even so could not have reached home for almost two weeks.  As luck had it the surgery was a complete success.  William went home and progressed rapidly.  Emma pleaded with him to withdraw his resignation and finally he changed his mind.  He knew what it had cost her, but she also knew what his work meant to him.  Since then things had been easier.  She knew that he would give up his work if she really needed him to, and could accept his absence more calmly on that basis. He took out the photograph he always carried with him; his happy smiling wife and two cheerful mischievous boys.  William was ten now and David eight.  Suddenly he couldn't wait to be with them all.  Only two hours ago he had firmly believed that another five months would pass before he would be home again, but now the thought of waiting just a few days was almost unbearable. He was shaken out of his reverie by his driver's call. "Ready to transfer now Doctor Lincoln." "Oh... right... thank you."  He unfastened his safety straps and gently eased himself through the exit hatch.  He was a tall, well built man and always found these manoeuvres tedious.  He frequently complained that lunar engineers were a race of sadistic midgets bent on maximising the discomfort of normal-sized people. The ferry was already waiting for him so he quickly walked through the tiny lounge to the departure gate.  Transport had improved enormously in recent times.  All vehicles had compatible docking arrangements so there was no longer any need to don bulky vacuum suits or wait for the time consuming procedures of airlock depressurisation and repressurisation.  He was soon settled in the little craft and ready for lift off.  It had taken the car nearly half an hour to travel just twenty kilometres but the ferry would be in orbit in only twelve minutes.  Such were the paradoxes of space travel.  The twenty kilometres were necessary to cut down interference from ferry movements on the sensitive instruments at Mendeleev.  There were still many, Lincoln included, who considered even this separation too small.  Like everything else it was a compromise. Lincoln was the only passenger so there was no delay in lifting off and he was soon in freefall, circling the moon at an altitude of one hundred kilometres.  He had never mastered the art of graceful movement when weightless so when the time came to transfer to the large vessel he gratefully accepted a friendly hand from the pilot.  He was gently assisted towards the stability rail in the airlock. "Easy does it doc," said the pilot cheerfully.  Lincoln thanked him and clasped the rail. Two minutes later when the transfer procedure was complete he pulled himself aboard the 'Selenian Princess', a large mixed traffic liner owned and operated by the Gagarin Spaceflight Corporation A flight attendant was waiting for him.  A pleasant girl in her early twenties Lincoln guessed.  She was dressed in the company's blue one piece uniform which retained a surprising degree of femininity in an essentially functional garment. "Good day Sir.  Welcome aboard.  May I please check your identification?" Lincoln pressed his palm against the portable scanner then answered a few standard questions about his health and reasons for travel.  The formalities over, he followed clumsily behind the girl towards his cabin. "We shall break orbit in thirty minutes and transit time to earth will be sixty-one hours.  Please observe all safety precautions," she intoned routinely. "Thirty minutes!" exclaimed Lincoln, "last time I made the trip I was aboard nearly a week before departure.  I must be the last passenger to board." "This is a special flight Doctor Lincoln.  Our departure was scheduled for four day's time but has been advanced by special request of the WSA." Lincoln was taken aback.  "Do you mean to say that the flight has been advanced because of me?" The girl laughed at his reaction.  "You are more important than you think doctor.  If you need anything just press the button over your head."  And with that she went out, leaving a bewildered man who had suffered more perplexity in the last few hours than he had expected in a lifetime.  Things were moving altogether too fast for a plodding astronomer. Inevitably his mind began to turn over this new information.  This was one of the new Pisces class vessels with a crew of forty, a passenger capacity of five hundred and a very large cargo hold.  To depart from a scheduled run would cost a large fortune.  The effect on the intended passengers would be enormous.  Several hundred people, tourists, scientists, technologists and business people would expect transport in four day's time but would be seriously delayed.  The return journey would be similarly offset.  In fact it could take well over a month for the repercussions to iron themselves out.  George Dent wanted to see him urgently and this was the quickest way of achieving that end. Lincoln felt much too insignificant for this treatment.  He could not conceive of anything that he could do or say that would justify such expenditure or inconvenience.  Despondency settled over his mind.  He was being vastly overestimated, he didn't know what Dent wanted of him but he would be sure to fall short of the great man's wishes. Further thought was interrupted by the cabin speaker bursting into life. "Good morning ladies and gentlemen, this is the Captain speaking.  It is now fifteen minutes to break of orbit and you should clip yourselves securely into the harness provided.  Instructions will be found on the cabin door.  If any difficulty or discomfort is experienced please call for assistance." Lincoln looked round for the harness.  In his cabin it was attached to the ceiling, or what he would have called the ceiling had gravity operated in the direction that seemed normal.  The harnesses were in different relative positions in the different cabins, the arrangement being so that the force of acceleration would push the occupant's back against the bulkhead.  For normal manoeuvres the force generated was not severe and the acceleration was deliberately increased slowly so that anyone not strapped in would come to no harm.  But if an emergency arose that resulted in excessive acceleration then an unsecured person could suffer serious injury. The precautions were duly observed and Lincoln waited.  A few minutes later the flight attendant looked in to check his harness.  Another few and the Captain announced the impending departure. "Ladies and gentlemen, break of orbit will commence at the end of this announcement.  Acceleration will build up to a maximum of point one gee and will be sustained for just over fifteen minutes.  If any discomfort or distress is felt please call for assistance.  Do not leave your position during the manoeuvre.  Thank you." Lincoln felt better during the period of acceleration.  The steady pull gave an illusion of security.  Afterwards he settled in the aft observation lounge and watched the moon slowly recede into the blackness of space.  She presented a beautiful sight, but Lincoln knew that her beauty was cold and hard.  The moon was a desolate world, devoid of welcome or comfort.  He was not sorry to leave.  At best the moon provided only a temporary place to work.  He could never regard it as home. The journey passed without event as the vast majority of spaceflights did.  He contacted Mendeleev twice for news but no further developments were reported.  He called his wife once and was tempted to call George Dent but decided against it. Earth orbit was reached after the predicted time and the transfer to the earth ferry made with routine efficiency.  Only one ferry was needed for the forty-three passengers and Lincoln's feet were back on Mother Earth only two days and seventeen hours after Dent's call. "Dad, Dad," two voices chorused.  William and David had spotted their father as soon as he arrived at the gate.  They scampered across the concourse and all but knocked him down in their eagerness to greet him. "Steady on, careful now," he called out laughing, "one gee takes a bit of getting used to." Arthur Lincoln, family man again, clasped his sons to him and felt the familiar old lump in his throat.  His wife Emma was only a few seconds behind and there were tears in her eyes.  The sight of her brought tears to Lincoln's own eyes and neither was able to speak for a time.  They hugged and laughed and cried all at once. "I didn't expect you to meet me here but I'm glad you did," he said when some of his composure had been regained.  "When did you leave Scotland?" "Yesterday, our flight was arranged by the WSA.  I haven't had time to absorb all the details yet, everything has happened so fast.  I only found out about the arrangements after your call so I couldn't let you know.  A gentleman from the WSA drove over with us; he's waiting to meet you." Lincoln looked in the direction indicated by his wife's eyes.  A quiet unobtrusive man dressed in a dark grey suit was waiting patiently, smiling kindly at the reunion and standing only a dozen metres away.  Lincoln had not noticed him at all until that moment.  The man realised that he was now included in the group and walked over. "Nice to see you again Arthur," he greeted cheerfully, extending a hand in welcome.  "Hope you had a pleasant journey." George Dent in person.  This was just like him, a simple greeting as if the two had been close friends for years.  Lincoln had only met him once before, and that had been five years ago when he had accepted the position of second-in-command at Mendeleev Observatory under the Director, Don Higham.  Don's time was largely taken up with duties on earth so Lincoln was effectively head of the base.  He had been unsure of the meeting beforehand but soon realised he had no reason to fear this man.  His open objective manner soon put Lincoln at his ease and the two had chatted over plans and possibilities for some considerable time.  Dent's enthusiasm was infectious.  Lincoln had left his company fired with a determination that he had retained ever since. "George," gasped Lincoln, remembering an earlier rebuke for referring to him as 'Mr Dent', "I didn't expect to see you here in person, yes, thanks, the trip was fine." "I must apologise for all the rush, and I know you would like some time with your family, but we must discuss our immediate plans right away.  There is a conference room available in the terminal.  I have arranged for several people to meet us there.  Shall we go?"  And turning to Lincoln's wife added, "I'm afraid I have to steal your husband for a while Mrs Lincoln, I'll try not to take up too much time.  My driver will take you over to see the research labs.  I'm sure the boys will enjoy a tour and as a historian I think you'll find our background and early development fascinating." A kiss for his wife, a hug for his boys and Lincoln was off again.  He looked round to see his family disappearing into the sunshine, Dent's driver carrying Lincoln's bag and already being swamped with questions from the two boys about the surprise visit. For a relatively small man George Dent could walk surprisingly quickly.  Lincoln could keep up but found it difficult to hold a conversation at the same time. "The flight rearrangements have caused uproar," said Dent with a wry smile.  "I'm already in trouble with two governments over bringing forward the departure time and the passengers that managed to get aboard are unhappy about having the only ferry land in Queensland." "I must confess that I don't see how my presence here can possibly be worth such expense or trouble."   Lincoln felt the need to prepare him for the inevitable disappointment. "You'll see, you'll see," was all Dent would say in reply.  "I've arranged a meeting with Freda Withers, Ranjit Khan, Philippe Heymann, Margaret Trip and Kumar Elango.  I think you know them all don't you?"  "I know them by reputation but I've only met Mr Khan."  The level of this meeting was only just beginning to dawn on Lincoln.  Freda Withers was Chief Consultant to the United States Department of Communications; Ranjit Khan was Dent's second-in-command and a leading astropsychologist; Kumar Elango was a retired general and now senior military adviser to the Indian government; Philippe Heymann was Chief Arbiter at the International Conciliation Council and Margaret Trip was Science Editor of a prominent news agency. "If we seven can reach agreement on the way to deal with this contact then we can sway world reaction.  There'll be plenty of pressure groups trying to whip up support for panic measures and feeding on fear when the main communications start.  You are the world's most competent xenothologist.  You have written more sensible papers on the subject of human-alien communication than anyone except Hon Chow Kwan and he's dead." "But this contact is not the sort envisaged.  My work is in the field of communication with aliens in the absence of any common ground.  These aliens already know our primary language and probably all about us, so ninety-nine percent of my work is useless." Dent remained unperturbed.  "Maybe so, but your one percent is more than anyone else can offer and your opinion will be respected." The plan was beginning to clear a little in Lincoln's mind.  He was beginning to suspect that his own presence was not particularly important in itself.  Perhaps it was necessary only to convince the world of his importance.  To make a great show of bringing him down from the moon, the greater the cost and trouble the better, so that his value was unlikely to be questioned.  He looked across at Dent striding along confidently and smiled to himself.  Perhaps he might not disappoint the cunning old fox after all. Perhaps he might even exceed his expectations.