Leave!
He wasn't just talking about leaving Brenna. New Earth Seeker, her cryogenic stasis cubicles full of sleeping passengers, would leave the Solar System forever. Derek intended to be aboard. He meant it. It was really going to happen.
There was another subterranean rumble, far below. Brenna barely felt the quake.
"You've been saving this?" Her voice was a whisper. She cleared her throat several times, trying to put some force into her building outrage. "You knew this when you invited me here. This whole thing was a damned manipulative…
"No! Bren, I told you why. Dammit, this isn't easy." Derek's eyes glistened. He wasn't shamming his upset.
Neither was Brenna. She wiped furiously at her lashes, fighting the shock that threatened to erupt in tears. "You mean it. You..."
"I never lied to you, Bren. You knew when I signed with Hiber-Ship that this is the way it would be."
Brenna pulled away from him. She wanted to put the words back into limbo.
Intellectually, she had known. Hiber-Ship's statement of purpose: a Colony stasis craft. Destination: the Kruger 60 star system. The Vahnaj Ambassador had cleared the route with his government, back in his alien star empire. Everything was set.
Derek was part of that dream. But it wasn't a dream. Suddenly it was real.
This was indeed the last time they would have any leisure for themselves, any genuine solitude, a space to enjoy each other and ignore the universe outside.
She shook her head more and more violently, on the verge of lashing out blindly. Derek caught her wrists, pinning her. Brenna was strong; months of test-pilot physical training had honed her into a human machine. She could have taken Derek off balance, even though he was taller and heavier. He didn't press his luck, content to hold her until the wave of fury ebbed.
"Never easy, is it?" Brenna cried, biting her lip. "Was it easy to walk out on me and Morgan three years ago?"
"Stop it! That's not fair, and you know it. We've discussed this a thousand times, Bren. There's no point in it." The pleading note crept back into Derek's manner. "I weighed the theories, and I found the graviton spin resonance drive wanting. That's all there is to it, Bren. Hiber-Ship will work. It's been tested and proven. I'm going to the stars."
"In a frozen box..."
He didn't bother to refute her. They had had that argument over and over, too, hotly debating the merits of FTL and slow travel to other suns.
"Running again." Brenna spit the accusation.
"Would you rather I kept hitting my head against a wall? That's what you and Morgan are doing. Dammit, Bren, how many people have to be killed before you see that FTL ship is a total wipeout? It's never going to be successful! Breakthrough Unlimited! That's a joke. The only things it breaks are the lives of its crew..." The bitterness and grief poured out of him. He had loved Morgan's parents, too, had mourned them as much as Brenna and Morgan had when they died in Prototype I.
But after he had mourned, he quit. Bailed out, leaving Brenna and Morgan to pick up the pieces of their shattered confidence and trudge back into the fray.
"What do you care?" Derek said with sudden anger. "Just spend a little more money, patch together another damned test ship, staff her with another bunch of suicide-prone volunteers. The hell with the risks! Think of the glory! Well, I had a taste of that glory, Bren, and it's rotten!"
He had been wrapped up in what he was saying and had let go of her wrists. Brenna wrenched free, swinging. She caught herself when the blow was centimeters away from his face. They stood there, confronting one another, Brenna's hand frozen in mid-air. Derek made no attempt to duck. If she chose to strike, he would take the blow squarely. She wanted to carry through, to make him wince, to hurt him as he was hurting her.
And she wanted to embrace him and hold him so tightly he would never be able to get away.
Money. Did Derek really think the solution was that simple, even for Brenna Saunder and Morgan McKelvey? Didn't he realize the enormous sums Breakthrough Unlimited was gobbling? No, he probably didn't. Derek Whitcomb's private fortune was invested in Hiber-Ship Corporation. The supplies his wealth was buying were going into the holds of New Earth Seeker—supplies to support a new colony, seventy-five years from now.
Did he know about the others who had defected from Breakthrough Unlimited during the past three years? Derek's desertion to Hiber-Ship Corporation had hurt Brenna and Morgan the most—but there had been techs and vital staff people who had also left the company, people who had cost momentum as well as funds, and those funds were becoming tighter and tighter with every passing month without a prove-out on the FTL ship.
"Pride," Derek accused her. "Face up to it, Brenna. That's behind everything—you, Morgan, Mariette Saunder, Kevin McKelvey. You got used to running the show when your father broke the Vahnaj code years ago. Todd Saunder, the man who taught us how to talk to the alien race out there! It was wonderful. But why the hell does the rest of your family have to kill itself trying to equal what he's done? Let him have his glory. You live, Brenna... His face crumpled, and suddenly he was framing her head in his long fingers, tenderly saying, "Oh, Brenna. No! Can't you see? Can't you really see? Give it up before it kills you."
"Pride? Is that what you think? What would you know about it? Or about loyalty or guts..."
Low blow. Unfair.
Or was it? When he was a young officer with Space Fleet, Derek had never been one to back off from hazard. He had taken desperate risks, capturing hijackers, clearing drifting hulks out of the commercial lanes. And when he had been with Breakthrough Unlimited, his courage had been right up there with Brenna and the rest—until the Prototype exploded.
"Which is better, Derek? Risking everything because of pride, or a certain faith that you have the right answer? Or abandoning me and humanity..."
"Hiber-Ship isn't abandoning. Earth and the colonies will go their merry way without us. We're going to make a better life out there. Spirit of Humanity, Brenna! See that! Please! See it!"
Brenna had spoken of faith, but she had meant "trust." She didn't share Derek's religious convictions. When a cataclysmic wave of disasters had nearly wiped out human civilization during their parents' generation, the old religions, like every other human institution, had undergone tremendous change. The old patterns no longer gave solace. New ones rose out of the chaos. The Spirit of Humanity movement combined traditional beliefs in a benign, if remote, deity with a fierce confidence in Homo sapiens as a species. Derek and those like him sincerely believed that humanity would endure, that some transcendent, immortal spirit of humanity itself would sustain them through any crisis. The tenets of the creed seemed muddled to Brenna, but many of her colleagues and friends had accepted the faith completely. She couldn't deny the Spirit of Humanity power. Yet she wanted to fight it. It gave Derek such maddening, stubborn assurance in his cause! He had always been stubborn. He didn't need spiritual aid in that regard!
"I don't see it. I never will All I see is you," Brenna said bluntly. "And that you refuse to believe in what Morgan and I are doing. Now, or three years ago."
"This conversation never goes anywhere, does it? I wanted ... Brenna, you've got to see! I want you to come with me."
She flung herself away from him. Brenna couldn't get far in the tiny room, but she put as much furniture between herself and Derek as she could, appalled by the new invitation he was extending.
"Go into a cryogenic cubicle? You're crazy!" Reflexively, Brenna hugged her arms about herself, shuddering.
Derek's hand was out, encouraging her to move around the barriers. "It works. It's proven."
"It's disgusting!"
Slowly, Derek's hand dropped to his side. He stood there, helpless, shaking his head, unable to deal with her attitude. It was apparent that Brenna's loathing of cryogenic stasis was as alien to Derek as his lack of trust in Breakthrough Unlimited was to her.
If he knew ... if he suspected some of the problems, he would use that knowledge as ammunit
ion. Brenna had resisted the advance. The doubts were there, though. How much did she know? What if ... what if Hiber-Ship Corporation was the right way? Funding wouldn't be her financial burden, then. People wouldn't die in Hiber-Ship's project unless the cryogenic stasis cubicles failed; the long trips they had taken with volunteers had proved the cubicles would hold up.
No. Derek mustn't know her true doubts.
Did he have any? Was there any way she could get through to him? Now, before he shipped out?
One look at his eyes told her how futile that hope was.
Two stubborn people. Pride. Philosophy. Questions of courage. Vectors dividing, veering away from each other.
Derek detected the weakness in her resolve. He coaxed her by saying, "Brenna, don't let us fight. We can't. Whatever happens, we can't end up like this. Hate the Hiber-Ship. But don't hate me."
Brenna heard herself moaning with emotional anguish. "I ... I couldn't hate you." I didn't hate you, even when you abandoned me and my dreams. "But I do hate Hiber-Ship."
The words and pain and accusations and counteraccusations fell together in Brenna's mind. Unless she gave in, Derek was leaving her. He would get a few days here and there, between his ferry-shuttle runs out to New Earth Seeker. But damned few of those. In effect, this was the beginning of their final good-bye. It had been coming for three years. And she had refused to admit it was reality.
"I love you," Derek said.
Nothing more. Nothing more was necessary. He was twisting the knife in her heart, but at least he was with her.
"I know," Brenna said in a faint whisper. "I love you. And never the twain shall remain together. That's it, isn't it?"
"I guess so," he admitted. A sad smile curved his mouth. "We had four days, Bren. Good ones. Let's make them last as long as possible. I've got a flight the day after tomorrow..."
His new duties, taking him away from her already.
... and you've got an FTL test program to run," Derek reminded her. He said that casually, not knowing the nightmares and smothered fears it conjured in Brenna's mind.
Carefully, she composed her expression. Don't let him know. Don't let him hit you when you're vulnerable. If you give in, you'll lose yourself. Brenna reminded herself of the most abhorrent possibility—failure. Failure to outlast Derek. Never mind the price in pain. There was integrity.
But ... hang on. As he said, it's the last day. Make it a good one.
If we can.
While we can.
CHAPTER TWO
Pavonis City
That hadn't been the end of their quarreling. The fight had flared up and cooled down several times more, each of them dragging forth the same arguments and recriminations, rehashing the points until they were both weary. When Derek had finally suggested they go to bed, Brenna exploded anew, seeing the invitation as one more sample of Derek's tendency to manipulate her emotions. With great difficulty, they had backed off from the conflict and settled down for an uneasy few hours of rest. Neither of them slept much. By morning they had more or less kissed and made up, agreeing to a truce.
"I wish we could skip this trip into the capital," Brenna grumbled as they packed their travel kits.
"I don't have an option," Derek said. "Unlike you and Morgan, I don't own the company I work for."
Brenna started to tell him what he could do with that company and his loyalty to cryogenic stasis and slower-than-light star travel. Then she bit her lip as she remembered the truce. Her anger turned inward, roiling her stomach. Brenna shut her pack with a savage jerk. "I've already dumped a double load of PR socializing on Morgan because I came here. He's expecting me. So are my parents. Come on. We'll miss the train."
"Ought to take a shuttle," Derek growled sourly. "It'd be faster. You and your cloak-and-dagger dodges. Just because of a few offworlder gypsy newshunters ... all right! I'm ready. Let's go."
Derek followed her out, pausing to set his housing unit's computers on standby. Everyday procedure. Brenna had done the same thing when she left her residence at Saunder Estates: Mars. Of course, Saunder Estates' computerized home-monitoring systems were a lot more sophisticated than the ones found in a pioneer town, but the principle was the same. The room would be kept clean and safely locked until its owner returned.
But when would Captain Derek Whitcomb return to Eos Chasma Town again? Not soon. Ever since he had signed on with Hiber-Ship Corporation, he'd been an infrequent drop-in at this mining village his father had built. And now ...
"Departure date's been set, Brenna. We leave next March. I don't know how often we can be together. This is it."
Brenna slammed a mental door, trying to shut out the haunting echo of Derek's announcement. She channeled her dismay and tension into action and hurried out of the apartment and down the slope to the depot at a reckless pace. As they descended the hill, Derek called a warning occasionally. But he was too wise to get physical and try to stop her by force. Several times Brenna almost fell, skittering on the loose stones. By the time they reached the depot and climbed inside the train, she was sweating badly behind her breather mask. Safe inside the train car's life-support system, Brenna peeled out of the mask and her parka, getting comfortable for the ride. Derek did the same, saying nothing.
Other people were already aboard. Brenna recognized the insignia of Terraform Division on their uniforms. These men and women must be part of the oxygen-generation supervisory crew posted to Eos Town. Obviously they were eager to get to Pavonis City and join the big celebration at Mars' capital. Unlike the miners and their families, the Terraform workers usually served short rotations. For many of them, Pavonis City was their home base. Most of the passengers were watching the individual vid screens placed in various seating sections of the train car. The scenes showed the President's gala and other festivities at Pavonis City, adding to the travelers' impatience.
In a few minutes, the car glided away from Eos Chasma. Adapted mass driver propulsion meant there was almost no jolting and a minimal sense of motion. As they started the journey, Brenna watched the monitor screen in front of her. The frame was divided, part of it a relay showing the Colony Days events, the left side of the screen tracking the train's progress on a small insert map. At the moment, the train was rushing through a subterranean section of track, an extension of the elaborate mining network surrounding Eos Chasma. But within twenty kilometers they were climbing, running along on the surface.
The train slowed to a stop at Coprates Junction and picked up more passengers at the depot there. A short wait, while the new arrivals settled in and allowances were made for anyone who had reached the depot late. Then the car angled northwestward again. Some of the Coprates Junction boarders were Ter-raform Division workers, too. They and the group from Eos Town were well acquainted. The holiday travelers bunched up in the front half of the car, starting an impromptu celebration. Brenna saw soothants and stimulants being passed from hand to hand. Laughter filled the train. She envied the merrymakers, wishing she could get into the spirit of Colony Days. But how could she? With the test just a week away, and now this news Derek had handed to her—impossible!
Brenna drummed her fingers on the edge of the readout monitor. As she reached to increase the data feed rate, Derek's hand closed over hers. They waged silent war for control. Then Brenna looked at him, meeting his eyes squarely. She hadn't been aware she was holding her breath, but all of a sudden she exhaled deeply, sinking back into her acceleration-adjusted seat.
"That's better," Derek said softly. His expression glowed with love. He raised Brenna's hand to his lips. She had to smile. Derek's old-fashioned gallantries had always been one of his most charming points. But when he kissed her hand, his beard and mustache tickled her skin. He understood her reaction, unoffended. "Relax. Colony Days. Happy times. Affirmative?"
"With what happened last evening still on my mind?" Brenna exclaimed. She jerked her hand out of his grasp. In the seats ahead, people were whooping and singing, carrying out the happy mood
Derek had suggested. Brenna wanted to belong to the crowd. And she wanted to jump to her feet and scream at the happy passengers to shut up and let her worry in peace.
Mixed-up emotions! Brenna Saunder, expert test pilot and ace agonizer!
And she was continuing to take out her tension and frustration on Derek. Why not? He had helped cause a major portion of her fear. No, that wasn't really true. She had been an emotional mess before she came to meet him at Eos Chasma. With rueful self-honesty, Brenna admitted that Derek had just added to a pile of worry she had been nursing for weeks. She peeked at him calculatingly. Derek's smile was gone. He held his tongue, waiting. Brenna forced a weak giggle. "Huh! I know what you had in mind. You were expecting compliments on your technique, weren't you? Well, it was superb. Superb! Isn't that what all your fans tell you, hotshot?"
"You've got me confused with Morgan. He's the one with the playboy reputation. There's only one woman I'm interested in, and you know it very well," Derek said. He was smiling again, that wonderful smile that disarmed opponents and made women stare in fascination. Brenna had fallen in love with that smile, and with Derek, when they were gawky adolescents, finding out about sex and each other simultaneously. Between then and now, they had taken other lovers. But eventually they had come back to the first relationship. The public thought theirs was a perfect match. Brenna Foix Saunder, youngest female member of the famous Saunder clan. Captain Derek Whit-comb, one-time hero of Space Fleet, part of the Breakthrough Unlimited FTL test-pilot team, briefly, and now the most glamorous recruit of Hiber-Ship Corporation. The vid columnists called them "hot copy" and featured them as often as they could. Brenna and Derek, young, attractive, living dangerously at the very frontiers of science and the future. Those news-hunters provided just one more stress on their relationship, a relationship that was already under enormous pressures.
Outward Bound Page 2
