“That’s not exactly the same as operating an interstellar.” She squeezed her hands together. “I’m just not sure—”
“You can do it. All you have to do is make it happen.”
“You really think so?”
“Of course.”
The hatch opened behind them. Ishraq turned to see who had come in. It was Jake. Escorted by Tawny. “Hello, Captain Loomis,” she said.
“Hello, Ishraq. You keeping Priscilla out of trouble?”
She smiled. “Oh, yes.” Then back to Priscilla: “You know the ship I’d really like to have?”
“No. What?”
“The Excelsior.” She got out of the chair to make room for Jake.
“From Deep Skies?” Jake said.
“You watch it, too?” Her eyes shone.
“I’ve always been a big fan.” That was hard to buy.
Ishraq turned back to Priscilla. “May I ask a favor?”
“Sure.”
“In a few years, when I start training, would you be willing to teach me?”
“Of course. I’d love to. By the way, that’s what Captain Loomis has been doing for me.”
Ishraq gave Jake a shy smile but continued speaking to Priscilla: “I think you’re very lucky.”
“I’m the one who got lucky,” said Jake.
Ishraq’s smile widened. “Yes,” she said. “She is very pretty.”
* * *
PRISCILLA HAD NOT known Jake before the qualification flight. But when you spend three weeks alone with someone, especially when the nearest other human being is light-years away, you get to know him pretty well. Jake had been easygoing, patient, amiable, a guy who did not take himself seriously, and who seemed able to adjust readily to setbacks. But the experience with the Gremlin had changed him.
It wasn’t that he’d become angry, or that he spent a lot of time staring at bulkheads. He didn’t retire to his cabin and remain there. In fact, he spent as much time on the bridge and in the passenger cabin as he ever had. But he didn’t laugh easily anymore, and when he did, the laughter was forced. His voice and, indeed, his entire bearing had leveled off into a monotone. The vitality was gone.
It would have been difficult in any case to join in games with the girls because of the language difference. But Priscilla sensed that the Jake who’d been with her originally would have found a way. He didn’t even try, however, and because he didn’t, she also abstained. Instead, they sat on the bridge, talking about trivia, or rerunning the same dialogues, about the bright futures that surely awaited their passengers, or grumbling one more time about the kind of maniac who’d put a bomb on an interstellar.
The conversations were marked by long pauses, uncomfortable moments when no one could think of anything to say. When the best she could come up with was how much she’d enjoyed the scrambled eggs that morning.
She just wanted it to be over.
* * *
TWO OF THE girls, Karida and Layla, had become competitive with each other. It wasn’t about anything in particular, Ishraq explained. They’d decided they didn’t like one another much. “If you want the truth,” she said, “I think they’re just tired. They want to get home.”
“I don’t guess,” said Priscilla, “you can put a bunch of kids into a tin can and keep them there for a couple of weeks and not expect them to get tired of it.”
“I think you’re right, Priscilla,” said Jake. “Even if there’d been no bomb, I’d have suggested a different kind of award next year. No more long-range space journeys. Or maybe—”
“What?”
“We could take them to the one in the solar system. The monument on Iapetus.”
She shrugged. “It would take a couple of days to get there, too. Anything like that, for teens, is maybe too much. What we need is a more precise long-range drive. Something that could really take you in close to the target instead of just getting into the general area. Something faster than the Hazeltine would help, too.”
“Yes, Priscilla, it would. So what kind of award do you think we should give the prizewinners next year?”
“If I were running it—”
“Yes?”
“I’d take them to Moonbase and throw a party.”
* * *
LAYLA WAS SITTING on the bridge with her when they arrived in the solar system. By then they’d learned enough of each other’s language to be able to communicate reasonably well. She looked at the navigation screen and saw the distant sun. “How much longer,” she asked, “before we get back home?”
Priscilla hated to answer the question. “Three days. We’re kind of far out.”
Layla groaned.
But a flood of messages took some of the sting out of the wait: They began arriving within an hour after they’d surfaced, coming from family, friends, teachers, and even from groups of schoolkids who had no direct connection with the girls. “Welcome home,” said the third grade at St. Gabriel’s elementary school in Kansas City. And West Park High, in Nottingham, promised that chocolates would be waiting when the Copperhead docked. Greetings came in from Jerusalem, Cairo, Belfast, Tokyo, Bangalore, Port Blair, Morocco, and several dozen other places.
“How do they know we’re back in the solar system already?” Layla asked.
“I suspect,” said Priscilla, “we’ve been making news, so a lot of people are tracking us. Even if they weren’t, ship arrivals get posted online as soon as Ops picks them up.”
“Well,” she said, “I certainly didn’t expect anything like this. It’s great to be back.”
* * *
NEWSDESK
SIX DEAD AFTER ATTACK BY GUNMAN AT CORNINE UNIVERSITY
Killer Angry at Cornine Support for Terraforming
Statewide Search Under Way
MCDERMOTT BILL PASSES BY WIDE MARGIN
All Federal Elections Will Be Financed by Government
UNEMPLOYMENT RATES DROP SEVENTH STRAIGHT MONTH
GDP Hits New High; Stocks Soar
NEW CLAIMS FOR INTELLIGENCE DRUG
Can a Daily Pill Really Make Us Smarter?
EVIDENCE MOUNTS THAT INCREASED IQ LEADS
TO SOCIAL DYSFUNCTION
Research Indicates There’s a Reason It’s Set Where It Is
RUSSIA MAY DEFUND UNION ORBITER
Cites Growing Debt Problems
India May Be Next
TANK NOBE MAY BOYCOTT SEASON
Baseball Fans Outraged; Ticket Prices Rise Across All Four Leagues
RESEARCH DESCRIBES BASEBALL FANS AS ADDICTS
“They Need to Back Off, but They’re Helpless.”
STARSHIP CAPTAIN DIES DURING RESCUE
Joshua Miller Sacrifices Life for Passengers
Memorial Ceremony Planned
JENNIFER HOPKINS ARRESTED AGAIN
Drunk and Disorderly after Hollywood Party
Chapter 11
THE THOMPSON HAD beaten them into the space station by almost twelve hours. They’d been greeted by a large crowd, and the pictures of the ecstatic homecoming had been relayed to the Copperhead. Now, they were docking, and the crowd had returned. It appeared to be even louder and more enthusiastic. Priscilla opened the air lock, looked out at them, and waved. People cheered and waved back. Cameras locked in on her. Shahlah and Johara and Drake Peifer were in the crowd. She retreated back inside to make room for the girls. “Just follow the tube,” she said. “Stop when you get to the concourse but don’t leave the area.”
Each of them took a moment to say good-bye to Jake, who stood off to one side. They thanked Priscilla and hurried away, delighted to be home. When the last of them had gone, a staff assistant appeared, carrying a small cage. “You wanted this?” she said.
Priscilla took the cage back to her cabin, collected Tawny, and put her inside. The cat didn’t exactly approve, but Priscilla had owned two of the animals when she was growing up and knew precisely how to do it. When she came back out, carrying the cat, Jake was still waiting. “Turn her over to General
Services,” he said. “They’ll take care of her.”
Priscilla shook her head. “I’m not going to do that.”
“What are you going to do? Keep her?”
“Yes.”
“And how will you manage that? You won’t be around here very much.”
“I can take her home. Back to New Jersey. I’m pretty sure my mom would be willing to take her in.”
“Well,” he said, “your call.”
She looked across at Jake. His bag was secured to one of the seats. “However it works out, I’ll see that she gets a good home.”
He let her see that he’d have expected nothing less. “Here, Priscilla, why don’t you let me take the cage?”
“That’s all right. I can handle it. But thanks.” He stood aside, and she led the way out. “So what are you going to do now?” she asked.
“Take some time off. I think I’m just going to relax for a while.” He still looked distracted.
She wanted to tell him again it hadn’t been his fault. But she thought she’d probably only make things worse. “Well,” she said, “have a big time.”
They passed through the connecting tube and came out into the concourse, and the place erupted. Whistles, cheers, shouts of Shukran! and Thank you! She recognized the senator from New Jersey, and the House Speaker, who was from Ontario. Nadia and Adara waved. The reporters moved in close, shouting questions. “How does it feel to be back home?”
“How well did you know Captain Miller?”
“Are space missions so dangerous that we shouldn’t be sending children?”
Cameras followed them. Lana and Sakeena showed up, embraced them, and said how glad they were to see them again. Everybody was taking pictures.
A few people paused to shake her hand or get their picture taken with her. But Jake was engulfed. They crowded around him, clapped him on the back. Some had tears in their eyes. He tried to explain that the credit for the rescue should go to Joshua Miller, who’d given his life to ensure everyone else survived. But they weren’t really listening. There was too much noise, too much excitement.
A woman in Arab garb appeared out of nowhere and thanked Priscilla for saving her daughter. She slipped away before Priscilla could identify her. Another woman wanted to give her money, and a reporter asked how it had felt to rescue the kids off a ship that was about to go down. Dumb question. How the hell did he think it had felt? But Priscilla knew the sacred principle about not irritating the press, so she explained that it felt very good.
Shahlah greeted her with a large smile. “Priscilla,” she said, “if there’s ever anything I can do, don’t hesitate—”
“Thank you, Shahlah. Let’s stay in touch.”
“By all means.” Then: “One other thing—”
“What’s that?”
“Jake.”
“What about him?”
“He went through a lot out there. Keep an eye on him. He’s going to need help.” She left as a staff assistant approached.
“Ms. Hutchins?” he said.
“Yes?”
He was about twenty, a good-looking kid, in a work uniform. “We’ve set up a room for you at the Starlight. The information has been sent to your link. Are you planning on leaving the Wheel?”
“Eventually.”
“I mean like tomorrow? The director wants you to stay on for a bit. She’ll be in touch.”
“Okay. What about the girls? Have we provided for them?”
“We’ve set aside a couple of rooms. But I don’t think you need be concerned. They all had relatives waiting for them.”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure, ma’am.”
Ma’am? Priscilla stared after him. She felt about ten years older.
* * *
JAKE HAD SEEN Matt Carstairs waiting for him the moment he’d come out of the tube. Then the crowd had closed in, and Jake lost track of him. But in the end he was still there, tall and well dressed, wearing his standard pensive expression, with a trace of a smile. Matt was retired Marines, and of course, as they say, once a Marine—
“Boss wants to see you, Jake,” he said.
“Okay.”
He reached for one of the bags. “Can I give you a hand?” said Matt.
“Sure.” They started toward the elevators.
“Tough flight,” he said.
“Yeah, Matt. I’ve seen better.”
They got into the elevator, and Matt pressed the button for the third level. Cleared his throat once or twice as an uncomfortable silence took over. He finally asked Jake if he was okay.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
“You must be glad to be back.”
“I’m just glad it’s over, pal.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I guess I would be, too.”
* * *
MATT TURNED HIM over to a secretary, who informed the director of operations that Captain Loomis had arrived. She listened to a response that Jake couldn’t hear, nodded, and asked him to have a seat. “Director McCoy will be with you shortly.”
Jake sat down. The secretary went back to her view screen. He suspected that elsewhere, Priscilla and Shahlah were in similar situations.
He waited a couple of minutes, took out his link, and brought up Worldwide News. A Christian church had been bombed in Senegal. Japan was still trying to recover from a tsunami. Off-season hurricanes continued to ravage the American coast. A nitwit trying to create a biobomb in Scandinavia apparently activated the thing prematurely and killed himself in an otherwise empty corridor at a hotel that was serving as the site of an international law-enforcement convention. And the nominations for the year’s film awards had been released.
The secretary pressed her fingers to an earpod, looked across at Jake, then at the director’s door. The door opened. “Go right in, Captain,” she said.
Jake had known Patricia McCoy for twenty years, from the days when they were still testing robotic versions of alternate jump systems, none of which had ever worked without killing the test animals or disappearing into Barber space, never to be heard from again. Patricia had been a flight engineer then, and they had orchestrated a couple of missions together. She was, he thought, one of the few managers he’d seen who wasn’t in over her head.
She stood just inside her office, wearing a wistful smile. “Jake,” she said, “how are you doing?” She was still trim, still looked good. She had thick chestnut hair, dark brown eyes, and a methodical manner that never left him in doubt who was in charge.
“Hi, Patricia. Okay, I guess.” He switched off the link and got up.
Patricia signaled her secretary. “No calls, Gina.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He followed her into the office. Pictures of early interstellar ships circling alien worlds covered the walls. There were space stations and Moonbase and shots of Patricia welcoming President Norman to the space station. And, on her desk, he saw photos of her husband and two kids. “Good to see you again, Jake.” She closed the door. “It’s been a while.”
“A couple of years,” he said.
Three armchairs faced her desk. She settled into one and invited Jake to sit beside her. “You have no idea how scared we were that some of those kids wouldn’t come back. Before I say anything else, I want you to understand that we are in your debt.”
“Thank you,” he said. “It’s a good thing Drake and Joshua were there, or it would have been a disaster.”
“Well, you and Priscilla what’s-her-name, Hutchins, got them off the Gremlin. Thank God for that.”
“It was touch-and-go for a while. What the hell happened out there? How did a bomb get planted on the Gremlin?”
“The official story is that we don’t know.”
“What’s the unofficial one?”
She chewed on her lip. “We’re getting a lot of threats lately.”
“Because of the terraforming.”
“Right. We’ve got people telling us they are going to blow up the Wheel. Take us
all out. Usually, we have no way of knowing where they’re coming from. But in this case, yes, we know who bombed the Gremlin.”
Jake leaned forward. Waited.
“It goes no further.”
“I won’t say anything.”
“He’s an old friend of yours, Jake. Leon Carlson.”
He stared at her. “That’s not possible. Leon wouldn’t hurt anybody.”
“Well, apparently that’s not so.”
Jake had known Leon for the better part of twenty years. “What makes you think it’s him?”
“When he found out that the Gremlin’s assignment had been changed, that instead of carrying supplies out to Selika, it was taking a bunch of high-school kids on a tour, he called in to warn us.”
“Who talked to him?”
“I did. He called me. He said he wanted to be certain we got the message. He was trying to disguise his voice, but it was him.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes, Jake. No question about it.”
“My God. Where is he now?”
“We don’t know. He’s gone.” She took a deep breath. “He thinks we’re monsters, Jake. That we’re aiding and abetting. Anyhow, we were able to warn Joshua. He found it and began trying to dismantle it. That’s what set it off. The thing warned him first, told him if he touched it again, it would explode, and that in any case it would go off in two minutes or something like that. It gave him time to get out of the way. And, fortunately, to get the kids clear.”
“The Thompson was originally scheduled to go to Selika, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. We think the bomb was intended to wait until he docked out there and explode at the station. We got a break when Kosmik donated the ship for the awards flight, and Carlson called in.”
Jake shook his head. “Better not let Kosmik do any more favors for anyone.”
“I guess not. Anyhow, the Feds are looking for him.” She leaned back in her chair. “You don’t have any idea where he might be, do you?”
“No. I haven’t actually seen much of him this last year or so.”
“Pity,” she said. “Well, it was a shot.”
“Sorry.”
“If you think of anything, let us know.”
“Sure.”
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