Seeker

by Jack McDevitt

  They watched hopefully while I did a quick survey. “I could get it up and running again,” I said, “if we have the parts, and if we had time. I’ve got Kalu to help. But the relays are gone, the wiring’s up in smoke, some of this stuff is fused. Give me a week, and I might be able to put something together.”

  “It’s that bad,” said Alex.

  “That’s about it,” I said. “The answer’s no.”

  “You have three hours, fifty-seven minutes,” said Kalu, “before reaching a point from which we will not be able to extract the ship.” I guess he was trying to be helpful.

  I looked at Shara. “Why don’t you call it a red dwarf?”

  “They’ve always called this kind of object a brown dwarf.”

  “The yacht’s our only way out,” said Alex.

  “I don’t think Windy’s going to invite us over.”

  “I love riding with you guys,” said Shara. “Does this kind of thing happen all the time?” Despite the bravado, she looked frightened. “Anybody have any ideas?” She’d gotten the burn ointment and was rubbing it into my leg while I sat with my head back and my eyes closed.

  “Does Windy know,” asked Alex, “that we’ve lost thrust?”

  “Yes,” I said. “No way she could miss that. What she’s waiting for now is for Charlie to tell her our communications are also down, that we can’t contact anyone. Then it’s just a matter of picking up her guy and clearing out.”

  Alex looked down at the body. “If she figures out Charlie’s gone to his reward, she’s just going to take off and leave us.”

  “Look.” I pointed at the viewports. Windy’s yacht was pulling into position off our starboard beam. Getting ready to extract Charlie.

  I did a quick scan of the vehicle. “It’s a Lotus,” I said. “Carrying capacity is three. Pilot plus two passengers.”

  “My God,” said Shara. “We’ve got to do better than that.”

  Alex was staring at the approaching yacht. “Only if we’re worried about Windy. I think I’m past that point.”

  “Well,” I continued, “there’s always a safety margin. You can get one or two more on board. Considering the size of that thing, I’d say one. But if we could take the damned thing, we could alert Brankov; and then it would just be a matter of hanging on until he got here.”

  “You figure there’s anybody else over there?” asked Shara.

  “I doubt it,” said Alex. “This isn’t the kind of flight where you take friends along.”

  Shara was standing with her back pressed against the bulkhead. “Okay, how do we manage it? She’s not going to open up for us.”

  “She might,” Alex said. “After all, she’s expecting Charlie.”

  “So we give her Charlie?” I said.

  “Exactly. Kalu, can you impersonate Charlie’s voice?”

  “I believe so.” I jumped. It sounded as if Charlie was up and around again. “I want to remind you. No surprises. I want you standing directly in front of the airlock when it opens. With your hands in the air. If you’re not there, I’ll kill him. Do you understand?” Tone and inflection were perfect.

  “Good,” said Alex. “Beautiful. Now let’s call Windy and have Kalu do his Charlie impression and tell her everybody’s dead and he’s coming home. Tell her to open the airlock. If I put on his pressure suit, I should be able to cross and get inside without her being aware it’s me.”

  “You?” I said.

  “Who would you suggest?” He knew what was coming and sent me a warning glance. “The sooner we get this going, Chase, the better.” He checked to make sure he had the laser.

  “I should go,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “Same as before. I have more experience working in vacuum. And this time all our lives depend on getting it right.”

  “Chase, it’s too dangerous.”

  “You think it’s not dangerous sitting here waiting to see how things turn out?”

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Look, it’s not that I don’t think you can handle it. But you’re right: All our lives are on the line here. We have to give ourselves the best possible chance. She may have to be killed.” His eyes bored into me. “Are you prepared to do that?”

  “If I have to.”

  Shara had been watching the sparring. “You know,” she said, “I don’t want to create more problems, but this babe is a psycho. She might be thinking this is a golden opportunity to get rid of the one person who ties her to it.”

  “You think?” I asked.

  “Why not? If I were in her place and operated the way she does, the minute Charlie checked in and told me everything here was taken care of, I’d say good-bye, Charlie, hasta la vista, and be on my way.”

  Alex and I traded unsettled glances. “She’s got a point,” he said.

  “So what do we do?”

  “We better think about it before we call and tell her anything.”

  “We need a better idea,” Shara said. “And by the way, since my life is hanging here, too, if somebody’s going to make a jump across to the Lotus, I want the most experienced person doing it.” She looked at me.

  “Okay,” Alex said. “Chase, I guess you’ve got it.”

  “Good.”

  Alex was standing back, away from the viewport, trying to look out without being visible to the other ship. “You say the Lotus is small. Does it have any interior airlocks?”

  “No. Just a cockpit, three small cabins, and a maintenance area.”

  “So once you’re inside, that’s it. No obstacles?”

  “None.”

  “Okay. I have an idea.”

  “Which is?”

  “We have one thing going for us.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Our main airlock’s on our port side.”

  “How’s that an advantage?”

  “The Lotus is off to starboard. She can’t see it.”

  “Okay,” said Alex, “are we ready?” He was wearing Charlie’s yellow pressure suit. Shara and I were in the Spirit suits.

  “I think so,” I said.

  “One question,” said Alex. “When you talk to Kalu, is there any chance Windy will be able to listen in?”

  “No. The hull should provide adequate shielding.”

  “Don’t forget that the launch doors will be open,” said Shara.

  “That’s right. I forgot.”

  “Then she will be able to hear us.”

  “Maybe we better assume she will.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Everybody keep it in mind. Are we ready?”

  Nods all around.

  “Let’s move.”

  Shara and Alex cycled through the cargo airlock onto the lower deck. I waited five minutes, spending most of my time watching the dwarf get closer. A storm was floating in its upper atmosphere, a circular smear, darker than the bloodred clouds around it.

  I had Charlie’s laser. I checked its power levels and tied it to my belt. Then I strapped on my air tanks and a thruster pack.

  When the five minutes had elapsed, I told Kalu to get ready and opened a channel to the Lotus. “Windy,” said Kalu, in Charlie’s voice, “we have a problem.”

  “What is it, Blink? What’s taking so long?”

  I fed Kalu the reply. “I took out the main boards. But they have a backup bridge on this thing. In the launch bay. In case of emergency.”

  “Knock it out, too.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “What do you mean, you’re working on it, Blink? Just demolish it. Where’s Benedict?”

  “He’s loose. He got clear.”

  “Say again.”

  “He got clear. Windy, the laser failed. That’s why there’s a problem.”

  “Goddamn it, Blink. I told you to check everything.”

  “It was charged. But the damned thing blew up in my hand.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “On the auxiliary bridge.”

  “Okay. Do wh
at you have to. Take the goddam thing apart physically. How about communications?”

  “They’ve got a long-range capability.”

  “Then don’t let it happen. Kill them.”

  “The two women are already dead.”

  “At least you got that part of it right.”

  “Benedict got down through the airlock when the laser went out.”

  “You can’t find him?”

  “He’s down here somewhere.”

  “All right. Don’t worry about him. Just destroy the controls and make sure you get their communications. Let me know when it’s done.”

  I opened a circuit to Alex. Because of the possibility that Windy might overhear, we couldn’t talk to one another. So I simply left it open for six seconds and shut it down. Alex would hear the carrier wave, and the six seconds told him phase one had gone according to schedule. Initiate phase two in five minutes.

  I disconnected Kalu and put the chips that constituted his memory and programs into a pocket. Then I put on my helmet and went into the main airlock. Two minutes later I was outside, bathed in dark red light.

  If Windy wasn’t watching the Spirit, we had no problem. But we knew she would be. Probably, her attention would be riveted on the cargo airlock, where Charlie had made his entry and which was still open.

  Precisely five minutes after I’d sent Alex the carrier wave, I sent a prerecorded message in Charlie’s voice. “Windy, I got the son of a bitch.” Moments later, if our timing was right, two space-suited figures, one in Lotus yellow, the other in Survey green, fought their way past the open doors. The struggle went silent as, presumably, Charlie’s radio was shattered. (There was no way we could realistically coordinate the sounds of combat with whatever Windy might be seeing.)

  But it worked. “Blink!” she said. “Kill him. Don’t let him near the other bridge.”

  I climbed atop the Spirit, and launched myself toward the Lotus.

  “Blink! Answer up! You got him. Finish him off!”

  The cargo airlock came into view as I cleared the hull and began to approach the yacht. I caught movement but couldn’t quite make out what was happening.

  For the minute or so it took me to get across I was horribly exposed. In full view. All she needed do was look away from the theatrics.

  The Lotus’s airlock was shut. I landed beside it as gently as I could and touched the manual control. The lock opened, and I slipped inside.

  The outer hatch closed and air pressure began to build. If Windy was paying any attention at all, she knew by then someone had invaded the airlock. And it shouldn’t be hard to guess what was going on.

  Her voice broke out of the link. “Who’s in there?”

  What a dip.

  “I know you’re there, Alex. It won’t do you any good.”

  I could hear her, tinkering with the hatch. Probably trying to figure out a way to seal it so I couldn’t use it. But airlocks aren’t designed that way. It’s a safety feature. You can always open the inside hatch as long as the air pressure matches whatever’s outside.

  “You might as well go back where you came from, Alex. You come through that door, you’re dead.” Her voice was pitched high.

  Air pressure reached normal and I shut it off. I thought about what would be waiting when I opened the hatch. Nutcase with another laser. Or a scrambler.

  A shoot-out could go either way, and there was too much at stake to take any chances. I thought about the question Alex had put to me. If it came to it, could I take Windy’s life? And I realized the only certain way to save the situation was to do so.

  I reversed the lock controls, putting it back on the decompression cycle. She saw immediately what I was doing.

  “That’s smart,” she said. “Get out while you can, Alex.”

  I knew the makeup of the yacht. Beyond the bulkhead on my right was a cabin. A storage compartment lay to my left.

  “I assume you killed Blink,” she said. “And this has all been an elaborate charade. But no matter. He wasn’t very competent anyhow, was he? How did you manage it?”

  The air pressure hit zero. I opened the outer hatch and looked across at the Spirit. Shara and Alex were standing near the cargo doors, watching. We’d agreed they were to stay clear until the thing got settled. Nothing they could do, in any case.

  “You don’t want to talk to me, that’s okay. It doesn’t matter, Alex. I won’t take offense. I understand you’re upset. I’m sorry things are turning out this way. It’s nothing personal. I just can’t continue allowing you to rape the sites. You’re too good at it.”

  “Hello, Windy,” I said. “How’s it going?”

  “Chase!” She sounded horrified. “He sent you? That coward sent you?”

  “It was my idea.”

  “He’s even a bigger lout than I thought.”

  I wondered if Alex was getting this. “He hasn’t killed anybody.”

  “You’re a cool one, aren’t you, Chase? Lecturing me about morals. What a joke.”

  “I’m sorry you think so.”

  I picked the right-hand side, the side that bordered the cabin. I released the laser from my belt, aimed it at the bulkhead, and pushed the firing stud.

  “Stay away, Chase. Go back where you came from.”

  The red beam snicked on and touched metal, about head high. The metal started to scorch. Black drops bubbled and ran down the bulkhead. I watched it with a sense of satisfaction. Pictured her standing on the other side. My longtime friend. God help me.

  “All right. Get out of the lock. I’m leaving. If you’re still there, you’re going to get bounced around pretty good.”

  I can’t say I felt any sympathy for her.

  “Go, Chase. Get clear.”

  I lengthened the cut, drawing a line about a half meter long.

  “Are you out, Chase? Last chance.”

  I did a parallel cut an arm’s length lower. More bubbles; more air.

  “Chase?”

  “I’m still here.”

  Air pressure inside the yacht was thirty-two pounds per square inch. It began to push through into the lock.

  A white lamp flashed on, started to blink. It signaled a maneuver coming up. Danger. Belt down.

  “What are you doing?” she screamed. “Chase, stop!”

  She was up front now, probably climbing into her seat, and suddenly getting warning lights. The deck trembled. The engines were coming on-line.

  I made a vertical cut at one end of the parallel lines, connecting them.

  “Whatever you’re doing, Chase, please stop. Please. I’ll open up.”

  Good-bye, Windy, I thought. And started the fourth cut, to complete the rectangle.

  The bulkhead blew open as we began to accelerate. I was thrown backward. A hurricane of clothing, plastic, and towels blasted into the airlock and were spewed out through the open hatch.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  You may have your quantum-powered marvels, darting into the deepest vaults of the sky. You may jump between the galaxies, leaving light in your wake. As for me, I like to see what’s out the window. Give me a brisk wind and a schooner under a full head of sail.

  —Kasha Thilby,

  Signs of Life, 1428

  The acceleration pinned me to a bulkhead in the airlock, and I had to wait it out. After a few minutes, it shut down and I was able to get out of the lock and up to the cockpit. Windy was dead, tangled in the harness, frozen, asphyxiated, bloated. It didn’t look like her anymore.

  I pulled her clear and set her on the deck. The AI wasn’t going to accept direction from a stranger, so I went off-line and started the long turn that would take me back to the Spirit. Then I used the Lotus’s comm system to contact the Gonzalez, and told them we needed assistance. Not an emergency, I added, because by that time we had things under control. They acknowledged and said they’d be on their way in about an hour.

  I put Windy in one of the compartments and closed the door.

  Needless to say, Shara and
Alex were relieved when I pulled alongside the Spirit and took them off.

  We closed the outer airlock hatch and repressurized. They listened to my account of what had happened, and Alex became solicitous. Was I okay? You did the right thing. No choice.

  We debated going back to the Spirit to recover Charlie’s body. But it entailed too much risk. We were getting deep into the dwarf’s gravity well. So we took a pass and lifted away, while the Spirit continued its long plunge toward the bright red clouds.

  Alex got on the circuit with Brankov and guaranteed he’d find the flight worthwhile. He refused to divulge details, but Brankov had no trouble guessing we’d found Balfour.

  We welded a patch over the section I’d burned out of the airlock, restoring it to working order.

  “I think it’s time,” Alex said, “that we take a look at Balfour.”

  The optical equipment on board the Lotus was minimal. The yacht had a single telescope, intended for navigation only, which meant no serious long-range capability and no fine-tuning. We couldn’t make out much planetary detail until we were virtually on top of the place. The atmosphere, a gauzy cloud-filled envelope, looked terrestrial enough. Gradually two island-continents and a vast globe-encircling ocean came into view. We could see a few storms. Polar ice caps appeared. And mountain chains and rivers.

  “I guess they knew what they were doing,” said Alex.

  Shara looked thoughtful. “I don’t see how it could have made any difference. They couldn’t have survived the transition phase. But it would have been a nice try.”

  Alex asked again about ground conditions while the world was being hauled out of orbit.

  “It’s unlikely any of the larger land animals could have survived,” Shara said. “After the initial shock, planetary rotation would have been disrupted while it went into tidal lock. That triggers everything. They’d have had turbulent oceans, supersonic hurricanes, volcanic eruptions, you name it.”

  “And this would last—?”

  “Forty years. Maybe fifty. Maybe longer. It’s not my specialty, but I’d guess it would continue well beyond any capability a colony would have for survival.”