I spent the next two days organizing accounts at Rainbow. When I arrived on the third day, Jacob informed me that Alex had gotten home during the night and was asleep in his quarters. I wandered into my office and went to work. Alex walked in a half hour later with a cup of coffee.
I was recording auction results. We’d finally gotten a decent offer on Wayfield’s lamp. “Anything of significance?” he asked.
“Not much. Belklavik claims he found a two-thousand-year-old bracelet in a collapsed house on Traygor that they’d like us to move. They also have a monitor dug out of what they think was a courthouse that’s about a thousand years older. They’re asking a lot, but I’ll leave that to you.”
“Okay. The bracelet might work. Does he have confirmation?”
“From the archeological team? Yes.”
“Good.
“How’d the conference go?”
“Okay.” He sat down.
“That exciting, huh?”
“I can’t get Octavia out of my mind.”
“You have any ideas?”
“Not really. I tried reading the paper that Housman produced. ‘Quantum Passage.’ ” He took another sip of the coffee.
“That was submitted from the space station, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you understand it?”
“Not much of it. It won the Exeter Award.”
“Posthumously.”
“Yeah, I know. At least he lived long enough to see it published.”
“You think they sent him a copy?”
“Oh, sure. There’s no way they wouldn’t have done that. He probably even knew he was a candidate for the award.”
“I guess.”
“They published his paper a couple months before the station disappeared.”
“So what did you get from it, Alex?”
“Just that wormholes are crazy.”
“Why’d you bother? I’ve never known you to show an interest in physics.”
He shrugged and finished his coffee. Then he got up and looked at the cup. “You want any?”
“No. It keeps me awake all day.”
He grinned, left the room, and came back with two cups. “Can’t afford to have you sleeping on the job.” He put it down in front of me. “Chase, have you ever heard of Sola Kylin?” I’d heard the name but couldn’t pin it down. “She wrote Down the Wormhole a few years ago.”
“Oh yes. I remember. She claimed that black holes are alive. That you can’t trust them to just stay in place and let you alone.”
“That’s correct.”
“I think it was a best seller.”
“She says that black holes are exceedingly complicated structures. And when you add the quantum effect, you get a very strange creature.”
“That’s crazy,” I said.
“That’s what all the physicists said too. But she was at the top of the charts for six months.”
“Alex, that would suggest that stars are alive too. You don’t buy any of this, do you?”
“Of course not. She mentions that we’ve gone through eras when people believed the planets they lived on were alive. Remember Kelia?” His eyes narrowed. “It sounds ridiculous but I couldn’t resist asking Benjamin about it.”
“Benjamin Holverson?” He’s a physicist who’s been a client and a friend for a good many years. “What did he say?”
“About black holes being alive? That it’s lunacy. Life is too complex to be able to operate in that kind of crushed condition.”
I picked up the coffee. “Even if it were alive, I don’t see how it could reach out and create a problem for something in orbit.”
“Kylin says it can manipulate gravity. That at those levels it wouldn’t take much to draw in an orbiting station. Just for the record, though, I’m not serious about this.”
“Good.”
“By the way, did you know that Harding’s trophy wasn’t the only link we had to Octavia?”
“No, I wasn’t aware there was anything else.”
“You know who Charlotte Hill is, right?”
“Sure. The only woman on board.”
“She was apparently an extraordinarily good chess player. And she owned an unusual set. Her family brought it with them when they moved to Rimway a few years ago. The chess set was aluminum, and the design hasn’t been around for a thousand years.” He raised his voice slightly. “Jacob, can you show us a picture of it?”
The set appeared on the coffee table by the window. It was similar to the classic Staunton chess pieces that had been available in all cultures since the beginning of the space age. Probably before that. But there were differences. The pieces were more compact, the queen’s crown had lost its sharp edges, and the king’s no longer had a cross. The knight looked annoyed, and the bishop’s edges were more curved than the Staunton model. The black-and-white coloring was somewhat faded. “As far as I know,” Alex said, “there isn’t another one on the planet.”
We handle substantial numbers of artifacts in our listings, and I probably don’t pay as much attention to them as I should once they’ve gone on the block. Unless there’s a problem. There’d been several chess sets over the years, but with one or two exceptions they’d always been the standard model, of interest only because of the owner’s identity. And my involvement usually had to do with verifying certification. “I don’t recall our ever having access to it. Did we sell it or something?” I asked. “The chess set?”
“No. It disappeared after her death. Charlotte’s mother, Olivia Hill, contacted me a year or so ago to find out if we might have any idea what had happened to it, whether we might have seen it on the auction listings. She was hoping to get it back.”
“So you’ve been looking into it.”
“Yes.” He was smiling. “I got a response while I was on the road. From Paul Holton.” Holton was a long-time client. He put the message on-screen: “Alex, Kimberley Morris has it. She tells me she got it from one of Charlotte’s friends. She lives in Traymont. Link attached. She does not seem anxious about selling. Let me know if I can do anything more to help.”
Traymont was a time zone away.
Outside, a mollok was hanging from a tree limb gazing in at us. He was smiling at something, and when Alex waved at him, he waved back. I couldn’t resist going into the kitchen for a banana. Alex was frowning when I returned with it. “You do that,” he said, “and it’ll be out there every morning.”
“Special credit at salvation.” I opened the window and tossed the banana. The mollok caught it on the fly, chittered happily, and began peeling and eating it.
Alex rolled his eyes. “Jacob,” he said, “connect us with Kimberley.”
I gave him my chair and backed off so I’d be out of the conversation. After a minute we heard a woman’s voice. “Mr. Benedict?”
“Yes.”
She blinked on in front of my desk. “I’m Kimberley Morris. What can I do for you?” There was a shyness about her that clashed with a pair of expressive amber eyes. Her hair was dark and cut short, and she wore a golden knit crop top and soft blue jeans.
“Ms. Morris, I understand you own a chess set that once belonged to Charlotte Hill?”
“That’s correct, sir.”
“Would you be interested in selling?”
“Well, I’ve thought about it.”
“How much are you asking?”
“I really hadn’t planned on selling it, Mr. Benedict. I have an interest in chess sets used in celebrated matches. I have the set from the Confederate Championship game last year. And the one used by Ronnie Jamison when he took down the Arkon AI.”
“That was the last millennium, wasn’t it?”
“Common Era 9416.” Jamison was the last human to win a world chess title anywhere in the Confederacy.
“And you have others?”
“Oh yes, Mr. Benedict. Charlotte’s set is the first one that has a purely historical context.”
“Call me Alex, pl
ease. Our interest in the chess set is that Charlotte Hill was the daughter of a client.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I assume nobody ever got to her with an explanation of what happened?”
“No. They’ve never been able to figure it out.”
“I see. And her mother would like to get the chess set?”
“Yes. It would mean a great deal to her. I have to tell you though that she doesn’t have a lot of resources.”
“That’s unfortunate, Alex,” Kim said. “I can certainly understand her pain, and I’d like to be of help. But the set was expensive for me, and I’ve acquired a fondness for it. I’m really not anxious to let it go. Not without adequate compensation. What kind of offer is she prepared to make?”
“May I ask how you obtained it?”
“I bought it from Mary Stroud. She was a friend of Charlotte’s.”
“How did she come to have it, do you know?”
“Charlotte gave it to her when she left to go to Octavia. She knew that nobody on the station would be a decent opponent, and if she played the AI, that would be purely electronic. Mary was supposed to take care of it until she got back.”
“Before we begin discussing compensation, be aware that Charlotte Hill designated her parents as heirs. She left everything to them. So unless Mary Stroud can show a formal transaction providing ownership, it would belong legally to Charlotte’s mom.”
“That can’t be right.”
“It’s correct. Have you a document anywhere transferring ownership?”
“Look, Mr. Benedict, let’s try to keep this reasonable.”
“I’m in favor of that. May I ask how much you paid for it?”
Kimberley hesitated. “Two thousand markers.”
Alex nodded. And I knew the look in his eyes. He’d researched it and she was well over the line. “Okay. I’d have preferred to arrange things so you didn’t lose any money, but that’s obviously not going to work. Our lawyer will be in touch.”
“Wait. How much are you offering?”
“I’m sorry to inform you, but the chess set won’t command anything like what you paid for it.”
“What’s your offer?”
“We’ll go to four hundred. That’s our top figure.”
“Make it six.”
“I tell you what: we’ll go with five. That’s it.”
• • •
Alex sent the payment. Several days later we got a call from Gabe. As he liked to phrase it, he was back in town. Though in fact he was standing in the Starlight Hotel, on Skydeck.
“How’d the project go?” said Alex. “Did you find anything?”
“We figured they’d have settled near water.”
“And—?”
“Bowman’s World has a ton of oceans, lakes, and islands. Anyway, to keep it short, not really. Listen, I’ve got to run. Just got time to make my shuttle. See you in an hour.”
Charlotte’s chess set arrived that afternoon. We opened the package, took out the board, removed a plastene box, opened it, and examined the pieces. Aside from the slight difference in the design, the set was ordinary. Until Alex showed me the date engraved on the underside of the board. With Charlotte’s first name. “It was her tenth birthday,” he said.
“I’m surprised she didn’t get a set with more glitter. Pieces designed like people in pressure suits or something. If you want to get a kid excited about a game, you have to do better than conventional pieces.”
“I think her mom was expecting her to do exactly what she did: grow into a serious chess player.”
“What’s that got to do with the set?”
“You don’t play chess, do you, Chase?”
“Actually, I do.”
“Ever compete in a tournament?”
“No. Not that I can recall.”
“People who play the game seriously won’t stand for anyone changing the way the pieces look. Do that, substitute guys in space suits or whatever, and everything changes. Don’t ask me why. But you don’t see the board the right way if you’re playing with cones or mythical beasts or whatever. I suspect Charlotte’s mom understood that.”
“Alex, where are we headed with this?”
“Nowhere, I guess. Charlotte was an extraordinary woman. She graduated from Andiquar and earned her master’s in physics two years later. Del Housman became her mentor. One of the top physicists in the Confederacy.”
“He must have been impressed by her.”
“One way or another, yes. It cost her.” Housman had been responsible for getting her the Octavia assignment. Alex cleared his throat. “Chase, would you call Olivia and let her know the package has arrived? Find out if she wants it shipped.”
Ordinarily I’d have passed the call to Jacob, but in that case I couldn’t resist being the person to deliver the news. I moved the set into the conference room, placed it in the middle of the table, and opened the curtains, exposing it to sunlight. I took the pieces out of the box, set them up, and made the call.
An AI answered: “It is good to hear from you, Ms. Kolpath. Olivia will be here in a minute.”
It was more like ten seconds. She blinked on and was about to say something when her eyes locked on the set. A huge smile took her over. And finally she looked up at me. “Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome. Alex was glad he was able to help.”
“It’s just the way I remember it. Please tell him I’m grateful. How much do I owe you?”
“It’s five hundred markers plus fifty. Our commission.”
Olivia had sparkling green eyes and auburn hair, and it was easy to see where Charlotte had gotten her looks. “That’s a surprise. I thought they’d want a lot more. When can I get it?”
“Your call. We can ship it this afternoon. Or you can pick it up yourself.”
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
• • •
She and Gabe arrived almost simultaneously. Alex picked him up at the spaceport and was helping him with his luggage as Olivia’s skimmer descended into the parking area.
I was standing at the front door when it opened for them. They were trading introductions, and Olivia seemed especially pleased to discover Gabe knew more about her daughter than simply that she’d been a victim in the Octavia incident. “Yes,” she said, “that was her. She was smart. She’d have had a brilliant career as a physicist if—” It was as far as she got before waving it away.
Charlotte might have been the most celebrated member of the Octavia team. And it was not only because she looked so good. She’d done a few interviews, and I guess everybody had been struck by her animation. She’d obviously been enthusiastic about the assignment and thought of Octavia as the opportunity of a lifetime. With a little luck, she said, they were going to open a door into another universe. She’d piloted the shuttle that had gone out in the shadow of the black hole to look for the pods fired into the disrupted time-space continuum by the cannon. It became fairly obvious why Olivia Hill had contacted us about her daughter’s lost chess set. “Her passion for the game,” she told me that afternoon, “stayed with me. In a way it’s kept her alive.”
Though Housman gave her no particular attention in his prizewinning account, Charlotte had been largely responsible for their success, because after months of getting no results, she’d gone deeper than theory suggested and came back with the pods.
We helped Gabe inside with his bags. Then Alex led Olivia into the conference room while I accompanied Gabe to his apartment. He asked what Charlotte Hill’s mother was doing here. I explained and he was obviously pleased. “Good for Alex,” he said.
After Gabe got settled, I returned to the conference room. Alex and Olivia were seated at the table, admiring the set. Olivia was fondling one of the white knights. She put it down, removed the other pieces, and put them back in the box. Then she lifted the board so she could inspect the date on its underside. “Excellent,” she said. “Beautiful. Now, you said five hundred fifty?”
&
nbsp; Gabe walked in the door and closed it quietly behind him.
“It’s yours,” said Alex. The display of generosity was unusual. He could be benevolent on occasion, but not normally where business transactions were concerned. Rainbow Enterprises for him was strictly an accounting operation.
“No, no,” she said. “You can’t do that.”
“It’s not a problem.” Alex directed her attention toward Gabe. “Gabe, by the way, is my uncle, and he taught me early that I should not accept money from beautiful women.” Gabe managed to keep his surprise hidden.
Olivia delivered an alluring smile that let us know she had doubts about the story. “I can’t believe I actually got it back. I haven’t seen it for about fifteen years. Charlotte took it with her when she moved out of the house.”
“I’m glad we were able to help,” Alex said.
“I can’t let you do this, Alex. I insist on paying. Please?”
“It’s no problem,” Gabe said. “There was no expense involved.” He glanced at Alex, waiting for him to break in and divert the conversation in another direction.
“How did you manage that? When I spoke with him, Paul told me the price would be high.” Paul was the guy who’d put us on track to find the chess set.
“We got lucky.” Now that it had become clear that Alex was just going to let everything play out, Gabe was obviously enjoying himself and I could see he was proud of his nephew.
Olivia was about to protest again, but Alex broke in: “You’ve already paid enough, Olivia. Your daughter gave her life for scientific research, which is a sacrifice for all of us. It’s enough.”
VII.
Look at the night sky and know the meaning of infinity. We talk of many universes as if some could be walled off from others or simply placed on the far side of a nonexistent zone. Ridiculous. There is only one universe. And it has no borders.
—RANDALL (ENDGAME) TELIFSON, COMMENTS DURING GRADUATION ADDRESS AT HORWITZ UNIVERSITY, 4311 CE
I never really discovered whether it was connected with Olivia, but in the morning Gabe was all about wormholes. “Housman did establish that they exist, right?” he asked.
Octavia Gone Page 7
