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Copyright © 1999 by Shane Tourtellotte

First published in Analog Science Fiction and Fact, November 1999


The starship dropped back into normal space ten thousand kilometers out from Epsilon Eridani's second planet. Lieutenant Avery Crumrie put them on an orbital insertion vector, while Ensign Drew Sorrell hailed New Plymouth's traffic control.

"Spaceship Tau-74 requesting orbital approach. Carrying colony pod with four hundred settlers, foodstuffs, machine parts, recombinatory nanites. Full manifest available--"

"Tau-74, approach request granted." The silken voice was roughened with displeasure. "Acknowledging receipt of mail packet from Earth. Standard transfer procedures are in effect. Please remain aboard your ship."

Sorrell winced. That blasted automatic download was always the first thing a planet received from them. "Copy that, Control. Could you open your video channel?"

"Negative, Tau-74."

"Sorrell," Crumrie said warningly.

Sorrell didn't heed. "Come on, Mieko. I know your voice. We've been in transit two weeks from Earth. Our passengers all keep to themselves. It would help to see a bea-- friendly face when we arrive. Please?"

"Tau-74, maintain approach vector. We will send transfer schedules when you make orbit. New Plymouth out."

"No!" Sorrell pleaded for a while, but Mieko did not answer.

"Sorrell, you're making a fool of yourself."

"So what, Lieutenant? Not like New Plymouth'll notice. They want nothing to do with us. Just because--"

"You knew this would be the attitude last year, when you signed up for FTL runs." He gave a fatherly smile. "It's nothing personal."

"Feels personal." Sorrell hunched forward. "I thought it was a stupid attitude, that it'd clear up, that I could change it, that ..."

"There's nothing we can do about it. It's the price we pay."


Late in the twenty-first century, scientists discovered a fundamental relationship between information and energy. Creating information required entropy; scientists had known that for a long time. What they hadn't known before was that certain types of information had different effects on the energy needed to store and transfer them.

Experiments soon led to startling conclusions. Information, in the proper quantities and qualities, could drive energy to create tachyons. Within a few years, the first faster-than-light probes had returned from nearby systems. The route to the stars was open.


The colony pod descended into atmosphere, a swarm of cargo carriers following in its wake. "Robot ships," Sorrell grumbled. "You'd think they could automate this." He swept his hand across their compartment.

"If computers could handle ships this big, they would--and don't be so fast to put me out of work."

Sorrell pressed his hands to his hot cheeks. "There must be a better way. I mean, who says we can't carry old news? The early probe ships did."

"Because their destinations didn't have that information. Telling people what their historical records already contain doesn't move ships."

"Oh, how can the Universe know?"

"It knows." Didn't they teach trainees basic data drive theory any more? Maybe they really were scraping the bottom of the barrel. FTL pilots got staggering pay, but most resigned within two years, and warned away new volunteers.

"But--" His console signaled. "Incoming transmission. Maybe it's Mieko. Maybe--"

It was New Plymouth's data-dump, giving them power for their trip home once the cargo drones returned.

Sorrell moaned softly. "Earth will hate us," he muttered. "Someday, it'll be as bad as here, or Dai Edo, or Saint Augustine Prime."

"Earth's a much bigger place," Crumrie said cautiously, hoping he didn't lose another partner. "Here, everyone has to absorb part of the data-dump, to close the causality loop. Back home, it spreads out much thinner."

"It'll still happen. Slower, but--" His head drooped. "There must be another way. Maybe, maybe we could direct our transmission into the ground, like the probes did."

Crumrie frowned. "How much energy did it cost to reorder the molecular structure of a stratum of granite with eight thousand years of the history of diseases? The probes had to do it that way, but it would bankrupt our company if we did it."

"Well then, cut the transmitter before it sends."

"And wind up disappearing from a causality disconnect? That's been tried, kid. The Universe doesn't cooperate. You gotta go by the rules."

"But it's not fair!"

Sorrell sunk into his chair, twitching with his frustration, muttering to himself. Crumrie shook his head glumly. Another washout.

The kid didn't understand the Universe never gave something for nothing. Entropy always got its cut. You wanted to fly home FTL, you had to carry gigabytes of everything from murders and suicides to bad grades and broken dates, and suffer all the petty, irrational resentments that evoked from people.

There wasn't another way. People had known how it was even before scientists proved it: nothing traveled faster than bad news.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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