She smiled. He didn’t like her smile.
“I thought you might agree, so I had one sent up here.”
The captain reached down, and brought up a case that looked like no one had ever opened it. She placed it on her desk, and gestured to him. Still suspecting a trick of some sort, he gingerly opened the hasps and raised the lid. He gasped.
“That’s an Ellery Flon!” He wanted to touch it, but didn’t dare. He peered at it closely. “One of their top-of-the-line. Captain, do you know how much these cost?”
She gave an amused laugh. “I have intimate knowledge, Mr Carson. Do you require something better?”
Better? What could be better?
“No, Captain.”
“If you do a very good job for us, this coming year, you may take it with you when you leave. Do you find that fair recompense?”
He stared at the guitar, stunned. Take it with him? He dearly wanted to pick it up, to strum it. Carefully, he lowered the lid and engaged the hasps.
“More than fair, Captain.”
“Good. Take it with you, then, and get back in practice. You can start giving lessons – as duty permits – next week. That is all.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Reverently, he picked up the case, and carried it back to the lift. An Ellery Flon! He walked quickly back to the acceleration lounge, and took the guitar from the case. Flon Guitars always sent out their instruments with all needed accessories – and many that a musician might not need but might desire. He checked the case, and found a full bag of accoutrements, including tuner and extra strings. He plucked at a string, tuning it. Then another, then another. Satisfied, he began to play.
About an hour later, he heard a small noise, and looked behind him.
“Angela.”
“Hi, Wen. You found a guitar. That’s great.”
“Not so great.”
“It’s no good? It sounded pretty good from here.” She looked worried.
He laughed. “No, it’s a great guitar. Captain Yrden gave it to me, but said I have to give lessons. That’s what’s not so great.”
“Oh.” She gave him a big smile, which faded as he glared at her. “What?”
“I have you to blame.”
“Me? Why?”
“You told someone I played; now I have to give lessons.” He changed his tone to imitate the captain, “We expect no less on a Family Ship.”
They laughed together, then Angela turned to go. He allowed her to reach the exit before he gave in to his conscience.
“Thanks,” he said.
She stopped, and looked back. “For what?”
“If you hadn’t said anything, I wouldn’t have even suspected they had guitars on board. Captain said I could keep this one if I did a good job.”
“Guess you’d better do a good job if you want to keep it.”
“Guess I better had.”
“Have fun, then. I’m going to go see about that piloting course.”
She walked out, leaving him with a dream come true. He sat down again, and began playing a tune that Lil had loved. He stared off into space, not seeing the stars, as tears rolled down his cheeks. Somehow the tune made him feel closer to her.
* * *
Haida Gwaii
Friday 18 June
Matt waited at the passenger lounge as the shuttle docked. He hoped that Jaswinder had made good use of her time away. He hoped that she wouldn’t be too angry with him for forcing her to return.
He saw her step out of the shuttle, and move to the side to allow the upcoming workers to pass. He waited a moment while those workers vacated the area. Jaswinder stood alone. Where was Harold Preston? According to the manifest, he should be on board. He shrugged and stepped forward to meet his sister-in-law.
“Hi, Matt,” she said, as he approached. “Come to give me a hard time for leaving?”
He looked her up and down, eyes narrowed. “You’ve figured something out.”
Oh, please, let her have figured something out.
She merely smiled. “I understand Professor Preston is on board the shuttle; I didn’t see him.”
“Yes, I received confirmation. He’ll probably be the last to leave. The young and vital move faster. Ah, there he is.”
Jaswinder turned. Preston poked his head out of the shuttle hatch. He looked around curiously, and then stepped through the lock and into the station’s waiting lounge.
Upon seeing Jaswinder wave, he smiled and stepped carefully towards them. When he drew near. His eyes looked a little unfocused. Jaswinder had made a mistake. Here, where he no longer needed subterfuge, he should look sharp. He didn’t.
“What a fantastic trip!” he said. “Magnificent. Zero-g. Almost lost my lunch, but didn’t.”
That seemed to make him proud. Well, perhaps he had the right. Many first-timers did lose their lunches.
“Welcome on board Haida Gwaii, Professor Preston,” Matt said, hand out.
Preston peered up at him. “Captain Yrden?”
“Yes, Professor. Matt Yrden.”
“I talked to you once, didn’t I?”
“Yes, Professor, you did. If you’ll just come this way, we’ll get you settled.”
“I brought luggage.” He looked around for it, but saw nothing. Matt sighed to himself. The attendant would have explained the procedure. “They lost it?”
Matt forced a laugh. “No, Professor, it comes out on the deck below this one. Someone will bring it to your rooms.”
“Ah, that’s a relief.” The information seemed to calm him. “Ah, Professor Saroya, good of you to meet me.”
“Hello, again, Professor. I’m glad you could make it.”
Jaswinder studied the old man’s face for any sign of intelligence. As far as Matt could tell, nothing showed.
“Could we go somewhere quiet and sit down?” he asked. “I’m still a little shaky. Haven’t recovered from the lift-off, yet.”
“Yes, of course, Professor Preston,” she said, smiling gently at him. “We have a conference room nearby. After we take off these emergency suits, we’ll let you get your bearings, then show you to your room.”
Matt helped the professor with his suit, then led them out.
Preston walked slowly down the wide corridor. Matt moved ahead to open the doors for him. He saw Jaswinder grimace as Preston’s head turned this way and that, marvelling at the most mundane of features.
Perhaps he’d once shown the brilliance that Jaswinder credited him with. No longer. Such a waste. A passing worker did a double-take, then rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly at the sight of the old man. Jaswinder frowned at that, but said nothing.
Well, they had him for the next couple of weeks at least. They could make him comfortable, or even put him up in Venture – give him the trip that Matt had suggested. At a minimum, he’d get bragging rights – he’d travelled to the far side of Jupiter.
Matt opened the conference room door – the same one where they’d talked with Richardson. Feeling for the old guy, he turned on only a few of the lights.
“Have a seat, Professor Preston. I’ll get you a glass of water, if you like.”
Jaswinder closed the door. Preston seemed to breath easier in the relative cool of the room. A packed shuttle could generate a lot of heat, and Preston had to many years for that to be comfortable.
Preston sat down in one of the comfortable chairs, and stretched out his legs. Matt held out a glass, filled with cool water.
“Ah, that feels good. Water? Thank you.” He accepted the glass.
Preston took a long drink, emptying the glass. Then he turned his head to look at Jaswinder. He smiled vacantly at her, then the eyes sharpened.
“Well, Professor Saroya, you did it.” His voice no longer seemed slightly vacant, but crisp.
“Did what, Professor?”
“Found that way to get ships to increase speed in hyperspace – just like you were about to blurt out to everyone. I kept a close eye on the news. When I
heard about Venture finding new routes, I guessed you’d had a hand in that. Sudden finds after so many years? It didn’t seem likely. Later, I found a picture of the Yrden Family at the start-up of the Family Trading League. Then I knew.”
Jaswinder turned to Matt, a great smile on her face. “I told you.”
Matt felt a shock go through him. He knew? How many had he told? He asked, “How many others know?”
Preston gave him a disgusted-looking glare. “Young man, when I advised our good Professor here, I didn’t do it to see her dead by me then compromising my own effort on her behalf. I’ve told no one these last 20 years. But I knew. And it gave me great satisfaction seeing those fools in government and in the Trans-Planetary Corporations running in circles.”
Matt took a mental step backwards.
“Professor Preston, if I may ask,” Jaswinder said, “why did you put on the absent-minded act?”
He snorted. “They don’t like me and my courses – the politicians, that is. They hate it when the people have a memory. Looking at the past to predict the future doesn’t win one many friends in government.” He looked back to Matt. “Might I have another glass of water?”
“Of course, Professor.”
Preston grinned. “Let’s cut all this Professor, Professor, Captain, stuff. I’m Harold.”
“Matt,” said Matt, grinning back at him. He refilled Preston’s glass.
“That makes me just Jaswinder. I thought you might have suspected that someone listened in on our conversation.”
Preston snorted again. “Fools. They think when a man reaches my age that his mind goes. Mine is as sharp as ever, but I found it advantageous to have them believe otherwise. Did you know that they pressured Plender University to cancel my course? You really should have taken it, you know.”
Jaswinder laughed. “I did. I used my husband’s name to enrol: Johannes Yrden.”
“Johannes ... Of course! My star pupil. I used bits of his – your – final paper as an example to my classes for the next seven or eight years.”
“Harold?” Matt said, clearly uncomfortable with using his first name. “Why did you contact us?”
Preston took a deep breath, then let it out with a sigh. He ran his hand over his unshaven chin. “It’s about to start, and I need to find someone to become Keepers of the Knowledge.”
“What’s about to start, Harold?” Jaswinder asked.
“War. Probably Earth’s last one.”
* * *
After seeing the old man to his room, and giving him a guide to call if he wished anything, Matt walked with Jaswinder. He rubbed at his eyes, then regarded Jaswinder with a seriousness she’d begun to see more and more.
“Well, I hardly expected that. It makes it more imperative that you come back here to work. Somehow we have to get this station ready for hyperspace.”
“I had already called for a shuttle. Preston’s arrival was just serendipitous.” Her face lit up with a smile. “His little lecture made me forget for a moment. I’ve got the answer.”
Matt peered at her, perhaps trying to discern if she had decided to pull his leg a little.
“We’ll need to get to work right away building an open lattice to cover the uncompleted portions of the station’s hull.” She smiled at his grimace.
“Won’t work. Without the hull there for strong support, and to carry the field nodes, entry will buckle the lattice. They tried that – way back when.” His shoulders slumped a little.
“Yes they did. But, as Pilot Carson reminded me, the problems arose when they upped entry velocity. We don’t need to.”
“Carson?” Matt didn’t like that he knew anything.
“He overheard a couple of us talking last time I was here, and said that if we merely needed to jump the station to avoid an attack – and had lots of time – we might do it that way. He doesn’t know we can increase speed once in hyperspace.” She almost skipped as they walked along the corridor away from Preston’s room.
They turned a corner, and headed for the lab.
“I’ll show you everything. I checked it out thoroughly, and it will work. And...” she went silent as a pair of crewmembers approached.
“And?” he asked after they’d gone by.
“And the field distortion will work, too. We’ll have to be very, very gentle with it, and it will take days – perhaps weeks – rather than hours to get up to any sort of useful speed.”
Matt breathed out a sigh. “That’s the first really good news I’ve heard in a long time. I’ll get Jeffries to start on the lattice immediately. It does raise some other problems, however.”
Jaswinder stopped suddenly.
“What is it?”
“I’m hungry.” They stood near one of the cafeterias, and the aroma of hot food wafted out with an exiting stream of Family crewmembers. “I’ve missed my last two meals, I’m afraid. I didn’t want to stop work when I was so close.”
Matt nodded. “Go, eat. I’ll talk with Jeffries; get his top people together. And then we’ll meet you in Conference Room 2 in one hour. Satisfactory?”
Jaswinder felt her stomach rumble. “Agreed.”
She spun around, and headed into the appetizing interior of the cafeteria. In line, she noted the cook ladling rich red sauce over spaghetti, and smelled the wonderful aroma of his herbed garlic toast.
“I’ll have that,” she said, pointing.
“Just the thing for a day like today, Ms Yrden,” the server agreed. “Some fresh vegetables on the side?”
“Sounds lovely.”
She looked on approvingly as the server filled her plate, and set it on her tray. Smiling her thanks, Jaswinder picked it up, and headed for a free table. She took her seat, and leaned over the meal to take a good whiff of its enticing aroma. The meal tasted just as good as it smelled, and Jaswinder closed her eyes in the glory of a need satiated. She breathed out with a sigh, then stiffened as she felt the presence of someone standing near her.
She opened her eyes to see Johannes just across the table from her. A slow smile came to her face.
“Sit down, please.”
Johannes nodded and sat. It hurt her that he had no smile to answer hers. But at least he did sit.
“Becky and I saw Owen over at FTL-1,” he said.
Jaswinder closed her eyes. Here came another fight. She decided to give one shot at trying to explain.
“I missed his graduation, I know. I’ve had a lot...” She stopped as he held up his hand. A cold knot formed in her stomach as she waited for the blow to fall.
“He’s worried about you, Jazz, and therefore so am I. You’ll ruin your health if you keep this up, and then you’ll be of no use to anyone. I’m going to see Matt. I’m laying down the law. Then you’re coming back to Venture with me.” He grinned, which allowed warmth to flow back into her stomach. She had expected so much worse. “And I’m not going to allow you back into your lab for a week.”
Jaswinder reached out her hand, and felt some of the tension drain from her as he took it in his. Perhaps they still had a chance, but even that would have to wait. She hoped he could, too.
“I’d like nothing better.” She watched the smile slip from his face as he intuited the next word. “However, I can’t.”
* * *
After Johannes had gone storming off to confront his brother, Jaswinder picked up her dishes, and deposited them in the bin. Her lovely meal had turned to nothing more than fuel for the body. And she hadn’t finished it, couldn’t finish it.
She hoped that Matt could deal with Johannes. Why had he returned now, at this very moment?
Two hours later, in her lab, frowning over the figures displayed on the computer screen in front of her, she felt a presence behind her.
“Johannes.”
“I just met Professor Preston.” His face mirrored the weariness she felt. “Matt has ordered me down to the planet. Dad’s dying. And then I have to contact this Helen White. I’m delegated as liaison to this mad schem
e to bring all the researchers up.”
He looked defeated.
“I’ll try to stay in contact.”
He turned and left before she could think of anything comforting to say. He’d stay in contact? She barely had time to sleep. How could she maintain a relationship – especially an important one – through occasional ‘contact’?
Where would she find the time to do better? She had equations to solve, simulations to run, experiments to conduct.
CHAPTER 12
Venture
Saturday 19 June
Wen looked through the observation window to the children working within. Then he saw Angela at one of the consoles, a look of intense concentration on her face. An older man, perhaps middle 50s, caught his gaze and invited him in with a head motion.
“Hello, I’m William Yrden. You’re Pilot Pearson, I believe.”
The man used his false name with no hesitation. Perhaps he didn’t know the real one? Wen smiled and took the man’s hand.
“This is our Education room. Have you come to see Angela?” He indicated the dark woman, whose lips were pressed tightly together, a look of frustration on her face.
“Yes,” he said, though that wasn’t quite the truth of it.
“Well, talk quietly, and try not to disturb the children. If I can help at all, let me know.”
William saw a raised hand, and went over to check on the progress of one of the students. Wen took a chair, and set it next to Angela’s. He sat.
“Problems?” he asked.
Angela, concentration broken, turned to him. Her face lit with a great smile. “Wen,” she said quietly. “What are you doing here?”
“Checking up on a certain trainee pilot,” he replied. “How goes the lesson?”
“Mostly good.” She frowned, and then continued, “But sometimes it frustrates me.”
“Yes, I know the feeling.” He looked at the screen. It portrayed the instrument panel of a freighter of the class in which they now resided. The present goal, he saw, required her to accelerate to cruising speed, attain the jump co-ordinates, and then align the ship on the course she would have to take to make the jump from Earth to Liberty. The other ‘crew’ of the program provided all the necessary equations and data that a true pilot would have to calculate or ask for.
Not With A Whimper: Survivors Page 12
