Vernor Vinge - Across Realtime 1 - The Peace War

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thereof in any form.

A Baen Books Original

Realtime are copyright as follows: The Peace War 1984 by Vernor Vinge;

Baen Publishing Enterprises

P.O. Box 1403

Riverdale, NY 10471

ISBN: 0-671-72098-8

Cover art by David Mattingly

First Printing, December 1991

Printed in the United States of America

Distributed by Simon & Schuster

1230 Avenue of the Americas

New York, NY 10020

To my parents,

Sharon Jarvis, and Joan D. Vinge for all their help and ideas.

Especially in connection with "The Ungoverned," I want to thank David

Friedman for writing The Machinery of Freedom, Guide to a Radical

Capitalism. (Me second edition is available from Open Court Publishing

Company.)

In writing Marooned in Realtime, I am grateful to:

Mike Gannis for many super ideas; Sara Baase, John Carroll, Howard

Davidson, Jim Frenkel, Dipak Gupta, Jay Hill, Sharon Jarvis, and Joan D.

Vinge for all their help and suggestions.

Other people have created zoologies and/or geographies of the far

future. Though they are different from what is described in Marooned in

Realtime, they are wonderfully interesting:

Dougal Dixon, After Man, St. Martins Press, 1981. Christopher Scotese

and Alfred Ziegler, as described in "The Shape of Tomorrow," by Dennis

Overbye, Discover, November, 1982, pp. 20-25.

Book I

Summer was far advanced in the Northern Hemisphere, and a pale green

spread across the land, shading here and there to the darker tones of

grass. Life had a tenacious hold, leaving only an occasional peninsula or

mountain range gray and bone.

Captain Allison Parker, USAF, shifted as far as the restraint harness

would permit, trying to get the best view she could over the pilot's shoulder.

During the greater part of a mission, she had a much better view than any

of the "truck-drivers," but she never tired of looking out, and when the view

was the hardest to obtain, it became the most desirable. Angus Quiller, the

pilot, leaned forward, all his attention on the retrofire readout. Angus was a

nice guy, but he didn't waste time looking out. Like many pilots - and some

mission specialists - he had accepted his environment without much

continuing wonder.

But Allison had always been the type to look out windows. When she

was very young, her father had taken her flying. She could never decide

what would be the most fun: to look out the windows at the ground-or to

learn to fly. Until she was old enough to get her own license she had settled

for looking at the ground. Later she discovered that without combat aircraft

experience she would never pilot the machines that went as high as she

wanted to go. So again she had settled for a job that would let her look out

the windows. Sometimes she thought the electronics, the geography, the

Allison grinned but didn't reply. What Fred said was true. Ordinarily a

mission was planned several weeks in advance and carried multiple tasks

that kept it up for three or four days. But this one had dragged the two-man

crew off a weekend leave and stuck them on the end of a flight that was an

unscheduled quick look, just fifteen orbits and back to Vandenberg. This

was clearly a deep range, global reconnaissance - though Fred and Angus

probably knew little more. Except that the newspapers had been pretty grim

the last few weeks.

The Beaufort Sea slid out of sight to the north. The sortie craft was in an

inverted, nose-down attitude that gave some specialists a sick stomach but

that just made Allison feel she was looking at the world pass by overhead.

She hoped that when the Air Force got its permanent recon platform, she

would be stationed there.

Fred Tomes - or his autopilot, depending on your point of view - slowly

pitched the orbiter through 180 degrees to bring it into entry attitude. For an

instant the craft was pointing straight down. Glacial scouring could never be

an abstraction to someone who had looked down from this height: the land

was clearly scraped and grooved like ground before a dozer blade. Tiny

puddles had been left behind: hundreds of Canadian lakes, so many that

Allison could follow the sun in specular glints that shifted from one to

another.

as those bastards ever were. She had scanned them with all her "normal"

equipment, as well as with deep penetration gear known only to certain

military intelligence agencies, and had detected no new offensive

preparations. Only...

...Only the deep probes she had made on her own over Livermore were

unsettling. She had been looking forward to her date with Paul Hoehler, if

only to enjoy the expression on his face when she told him that the results

of her test were secret. He had been so sure his bosses were up to

something sinister at Livermore. She now saw that Paul might be right;

there was something going on at Livermore. It might have gone undetected

without her deep-probe equipment; there had been an obvious effort at

concealment. But one thing Allison Parker knew was her high-intensity

reactor profiles, and there was a new one down there that didn't show up

on the AFIA listings. And she had detected other things -probe-opaque

spheres below ground in the vicinity of the reactor.

That was also as Paul Hoehler had predicted.

NMV specialists like Allison Parker had a lot of freedom to make ad lib

additions to their snoop schedules; that had saved more than one mission.

She would be in no trouble for the unscheduled probe of a US lab, as long

as a thorough report was made. But if Paul was right, then this would cause

a major scandal. And if Paul was wrong, then he would be in major trouble,

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thereofinanyform.ABaenBooksOriginalCopyrightData:ThetwonovelsandnovellathatcomposeAcrossRealtimearecopyrightasfollows:ThePeaceWar1984byVernorVinge;"TheUngoverned,"©1985byVernorVinge(firstpublishedinFarFrontiers,Fall1985);MaroonedinRealtime©1986byVernorVingeBaenPublishingEnterprisesP.O.Box1403Riverda...

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