Outward Bound

by Juanita Coulson

  The welcome was subdued, compared with those Brenna had known in the past. She couldn't blame the support crew and media pool reporters like Ife Enegu for being wary. After all, they had waited out plenty of unmanned tests over the years in which Breakthrough Unlimited had been operating. This one might be a bit different, technically, but the earlier excitement had worn off, blunted by too many disappointments. Nevertheless, as the pilots came out of Debriefing with George Li, Enegu and the other ComLink and TeleCom people asked the right questions, trying to maintain the old enthusiasm. "The boards said it was a nominal faster-than-light hop," Ife Enegu called to Brenna. "That means it exceeded the barrier?"

  Brenna nodded, rather wishing she could turn this part of the routine over to George. She had a timetable the media didn't know about. Brenna wondered, a bit anxiously, if the news-hunters would notice a certain reserve in her co-workers. They were aware of her plans, though the details weren't public knowledge.

  "Yes, the unmanned test vehicle made a perfect hop to approximately five A.U.—that is, in popular terms, 'beyond' the asteroids. And she returned safely, right on programmed schedule, all data intact."

  Noyes of TeleCom—who had taken advantage of Charlie Dahl's persona non grata status to move ahead with his company—couldn't resist a pointed reminder: "This isn't a full-sized faster-than-light spacecraft, though, is it?"

  Joe Habich and Yuri and the other pilots scowled at him for a split second before resuming their nonchalant, superpilot poses. Brenna shook her head. "No, it's a model. This was a test of the new oscillator system Morgan Saunder McKelvey has worked out in cooperation with Tobiyah High-Tech Engineering..."

  The media personnel made note of her easy, confident stance, impressed. Brenna hoped they wouldn't read beneath the I'm-in-charge manner and see how tired she was and how much she shared the TeleCom reporter's skepticism. She couldn't seem to recapture that cutting edge. Worse, over the past weeks, under the barrage of steady com calls from Derek, she had begun to wonder if she really wanted to. That kind of uncertainty was dangerous, to the people she cared about as well as to herself. She had caught the surreptitious glances aimed her way, through the waning months of '75. They were worried, questioning glances, but no one confronted her. What was unspoken could be canceled out, as if it had never been.

  The press conference wound down. George Li tied the loose ends, explaining technical terms to the laymen. His staffers stroked the network personnel who had made the long trip up here for the test. They hadn't seen much from their booths in FTL Station—just the data and remote scans from the test-run area, and then a miniature version of a Prototype FTL ship disappearing from view. Three minutes later, the small vehicle had arrived at her destination at five astronomical units out from the Sun. After a suitable pause to dispatch her drones, take her own picture and pulse, the test vehicle had returned. Bingo. Nothing to it. There she wasn't; there she was. Test completed. Faster-than-light travel achieved, no sweat. Unmanned. FTL, though. Little wonder the reporters and crew weren't as excited as they could have been. This was old stuff. Here we go again, ho-hum.

  Yet it had worked. Morgan had predicted strengthening the hull material and redesigning the oscillator to exceed resonance point would cure the fatal problems with Prototype II. It seemed he was right.

  But they had thought that with the previous unmanned test flights, prior to Prototype II's blowup last April, and look what had happened!

  April 2075 to January 2076. And it would be April again before a full-sized oscillator and a beefed-up, crew-capable test vehicle would be ready. Months, spinning away. Morgan's birthday had come and gone, and Brenna would turn a year older by the end of January. And was she really any closer to reaching the dream than she had been?

  "What's next on the agenda?" Ife Enegu asked. She had privileges, being an SE reporter, that the rival networkers didn't. She hung around the pilots' ready room after the press conference had broken up, gathering further details for her story.

  "Well," Adele Zyto said, "Shoje and Joe and I will be going out to the completed hop point and opening up the station there. It's been closed since..." Her voice trailed off. Closed since Prototype II's disaster. Adele cleared her throat. "We have to check out the instruments and get her ready for the next stage, which is a manned spacecraft test. It's standard procedure to have a rescue Chase ship and emergency medical personnel standing by at the point the manned vehicle will emerge from, when Prototype II makes the FTL jump..." Standing by, in case of another tragedy. Breakthrough Unlimited hadn't used the station, saving money. But now...

  Brenna left the room, not wanting to put off questions if Enegu was indiscreet enough to ask them. George Li would say the right things, make reasonable explanations. Brenna headed for her cabin. Adele's gear was packed and ready for loading on the Chase craft the young woman would fly out past the main asteroid orbits. Brenna's gear, too, was packed. She would be taking a different Chase craft, for her own use, and setting a slightly different vector out from the Sun. Brenna cleared her message screen, sending through the last by-the-rules notes awaiting her okay. Then she slung the kit over her arm and turned toward the corridor.

  Yuri Nicholaiev blocked the way. "I have to talk to you," he said, closing the door, cutting them off from the constant buzz of activity throughout the Station.

  His expression alarmed Brenna. The worst possibilities sprang into her mind. "What is it? Did Helen call? Is Morgan...?"

  "No, no, nothing of that sort," Yuri said quickly, pained that she had taken fright.

  "Then ... is something wrong in Control? George…"

  "Would you care?" The instant Yuri had said that, he looked as if he wished it back. For a moment, he held a hand over his mouth. He turned pale. "I ... I know you would care if anything happened to a team member. I am sorry I spoke so thoughtlessly. I did not mean to sound ... angry. But sometimes it is confusing, when I remember what you intend to do."

  Brenna stared at him. She had the strange impression she was seeing Yuri for the first time, though she had known him for years. Subconsciously, she must have been aware of this hidden part of his personality, the intensity now revealed in his strong face. She had pretended it didn't exist. And he had encouraged that attitude in others, including Brenna.

  "Yuri, I cleared this leave with George, and with Morgan..."

  "What did Morgan say?" Yuri pressed her, hopefully. What was he hoping for? An ally, in Morgan? Against Brenna's plans?

  Brenna didn't want to recall that conversation, a week ago. It had been as awkward and one-sided as all conversations with Morgan were now. Also, Quol-Bez had been at Saunder Estates, further hampering any effective give-and-take between Brenna and her cousin. When Brenna had stated what she was going to do after the unmanned vehicle test was over, Morgan had looked through her, reading her as if she were a monitor screen. Brenna dredged Morgan's terse comment out of her memory and repeated it to Yuri. "He said I had to live my own life. I am. My leave time is my own."

  "Is that what it will be, Brenna? Leave?"

  In more than five years he had never spoken in that tone, accusing, almost possessive. Brenna tried to laugh but failed. "What is this? I'm not answerable to you."

  His green eyes were sad. "No, you are not. Not to anyone. Not to Morgan or the crew. But I wish ... you should not go to the Hiber-Ship," Yuri blurted. Obviously it had required enormous courage for him to spit that out. And now that he had, he was braced for her reaction.

  Brenna's temper flared. "Should not? Yuri, I'm a free citizen. I have fully authorized pilot's regs. I own Breakthrough Unlimited—Morgan and I do. I can use any ship I please to go anywhere I please, including taking a trip to Hiber-Ship Corporation's launch point..."

  "And will you come back?"

  Yuri Nicholaiev could bullshit a media session as well as the next space pilot. He had done his share of smiling when he didn't feel like it and talking optimistically when he and every other crew member knew a recent test had
been a catastrophe, not a whopping success. But all that was gone. There was no distance, no mask of upbeat words and smiles, between him and Brenna. Everyone on the Breakthrough Unlimited team knew that Brenna was on vacation, and they knew where she was planning to go. But not one of them had mentioned it to her, until this minute. None of them had referred to that deep worry that had to be on everyone's mind.

  Will you come back?

  They knew her love for Derek, knew New Earth Seeker's launch date, that time was running out, permanently, for the relationship. It was inevitable they would wonder if a very big rat wasn't going to desert the Breakthrough Unlimited "ship." Hector Obregon hadn't been the only one to resign. In the past two months Breakthrough Unlimited had lost sixteen techs, mechs, and med personnel to other space-oriented companies, despite Brenna's offers of higher salaries and more perks if they would stay with Saunder Enterprises. It was getting hard to find good replacements, too. The team members who remained were on the defensive, more chauvinistic and supportive of their organization than they had ever been, whistling to keep their spirits up, lest they panic. Brenna's defection would be a terrible blow. Little wonder Yuri Nicholaiev was bringing up the subject on the team's behalf.

  "I have no intention of entering a cryo stasis box," Brenna said flatly. She tried to maintain her anger and resentment. She was entitled to that. These questions were highly personal. Yuri had no right to cross-examine her.

  Didn't he? Hadn't he earned that right, with his unflagging loyalty? There was a great deal more than company loyalty in his expression and stance, though. Yuri gazed at Brenna sadly, wanting to believe what she was saying, but not quite able to. "I hope you mean that. We cannot go on without you. Morgan will continue to pay and analyze results. George would try to lead us. But it would never be the same."

  "We went on without my aunt and uncle and Cesare," Brenna reminded him. The words hurt them both. "I'm not irreplaceable, Yuri—not that that needs discussing. I said I wasn't going there to join up. I... I'm going out there to ... to say ... good-bye to the man I love." That was another statement that hurt, an agony of fire and ice, twisting within her soul.

  Yuri's eyes held hers. "Captain Whitcomb is not the only one who loves you, Brenna. Remember that. Please..."

  He had no chance to go on. The door dilated, and Tumaini Beno walked in. "We need you in Control, Yuri. George is setting up the schedule for the retrieval flight, and he wants you on cap com. Oh, Maintenance called, Brenna—they have your ship refueled and resupplied and ready to go."

  She took a tighter grip on her kit and swam past Yuri. Reluctantly, he moved aside, clearing the aisle to the door. Brenna clung to a stanchion and paused. The implications in Yuri's last statement had affected her deeply. She felt guilty yet warmed by that new burden of knowledge. Brenna wanted to speak to him, but Tumaini was an unwanted witness. Perhaps that was best. What Yuri had said needed to be thought over at length.

  Brenna smiled at the men. "Well, I guess I shouldn't keep Maintenance waiting or clog up the hangar docks, huh? You and the kids will be needing the maneuvering space when you head out to pick up the vehicle, Tumaini. Listen, I'm depending on you old-timers to keep the kids in line while I'm on vacation."

  Yuri nodded, very morose. Tumaini glanced at him sharply, looking startled and uneasy. Had he guessed what Yuri and Brenna had been talking about before he had butted in? After a noticeable hesitation, Tumaini forced a grin. "It is taken care of. You have a good leave. Keep in touch!"

  "I will."

  Brenna floated on out into the corridor, sculling through the air, heading for Suitup. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw Yuri and Tumaini hovering in the hall just outside her cabin. Tumaini was saying something to the Russian, but Brenna was too far away to hear what it was. Yuri didn't appear to be paying any attention to his friend. He was staring after Brenna, an invisible tether binding him to her, through his eyes. Brenna jerked her head around, moving too fast, bumping into the curving wall. Seconds later she was in the access tunnel and couldn't see Yuri any longer. She suspected it would be a lot easier to shut off the sight of him than to forget some of the things he had said.

  No one at Maintenance made much of her planned destination. They knew it, of course, from her flight plan and the required supplies they had stowed aboard the Chase craft. But only Yuri had pressed Brenna about the matter and let his anxiety show. The obligatory pre-flight run-through was by the book, George Li personally handling the com and wishing Brenna a smooth trip. Then she was away from FTL Station and heading outward. Her Station fell behind on the visual scans and grids. Soon she was alone, cruising out from the Sun amid a night full of stars.

  The team would be leaving shortly in Chase Two and Three to open up the hop point station, in distant orbit. They would be conserving fuel. Brenna knew she ought to do that, too, since she was going as far out in the Solar System as Shoje and the others were. Impatience drove her, though. She had set aside a special fund to pay for the expense of this journey, and she had been waiting since October to make this rendezvous. Brenna fed more power to the sleek little ship. Travel times began to shrink. The computers would feed the updates to Space Fleet Traffic en route. There would be no problem, as long as she didn't stray from her vector.

  The trip out was a long one, the days boring. Brenna's craft was equipped with a spartan sleeping area, and she carried six weeks' food and water supplies. She wouldn't need that much, of course, but those were the regulations for a spaceflight of this duration. Air was no problem; it would be recycled by the mutated oxygen-generating micro-organism inside the life-support system. So she had little to do but oversee the automated programs and monitor the com.

  Derek's calls continued to arrive, as they had on a steady basis ever since he'd left Mars in late October. "October" was a term from Earth's calendar. Mars' seasons didn't match Earth's, and the red planet's years were almost twice as long. But a lot of the Solar System's economics and trade was still linked to the home world, even though that setup was rapidly changing. Terran Worlds Council was working out a coordinated, universal clock and calendar that would adjust to suit local needs throughout the Solar System. T.W.C.'s carefully calculated schedules allowed Derek to call during Brenna's onboard waking periods, each twenty-four-hour day.

  Those calls! Derek looking at her from the screen. That voice she loved so much, beckoning her like a male siren. She understood the tactic and accepted it gladly. She seemed to be racing toward a fairy-tale ending for their romance. Brenna deliberately blocked out reality—that this would be farewell, not happily-ever-after.

  The standard com chatter changed as she passed the "busy" areas beyond Mars. She refueled at Kirkwood Orbital Station, spending an obligatory hour or two with Administrator Krowa, to be courteous; the woman was eager to entertain a Saunder, and Brenna had a hard time making her getaway without being rude. Soon the Kirkwood Station fell behind, as had the inner asteroids.

  Earth-bound vid viewers saw models of the home world's colonies and envisioned that space really looked like that-crowded clusters of asteroids, for example, whirling in their orbit around the Sun practically bumping into one another. In actuality, very few areas in this vector even approached that misconception. As far as Brenna's navigational system could tell, she had more elbow room than she knew what to do with.

  Exchange times for audio and video were beginning to stretch. It took increasingly more minutes to complete the circuit from her present position to Mars and back. Brenna didn't bother with it very often, though she checked in with Saunder Estates: Mars faithfully every twenty-four-hour period, to be sure Morgan was okay.

  Six days ... seven days ... she was in "empty" space now. Only a few eccentric-orbit asteroids—potential moons which Jupiter would probably capture sometime in millennia to come—occupied this region. There wasn't a lot of traffic. On the Sunward side, far behind Brenna, the mass driver ore ships plied the space lanes, ferrying cargoes to Mars and Earth. Along the
same route Brenna was taking, Hiber-Ship's ferry caravans had carted supplies and volunteers out to Jovian orbit. But most of those preparatory trips were finished; New Earth Seeker was readying for her historic journey to the stars. Far beyond Jovian orbit, so far that Brenna's nav screens didn't even record them on the grids, Space Fleet patrols and pioneer ships were traveling to and from the Saturnian realms. New colonies were starting up on the ringed giant's moons. Jupiter and Uranus had rings, too, of course, but Saturn's remained the most spectacular in all the Solar System. What a view the colonists on those moons would have from their life-support domes! Brenna had been out to Saturn once, when she was twenty; she had tagged along on a Space Fleet run with her father, with Derek acting as their liaison. ComLink had been cooperating with Space Fleet then to set up an interplanetary communications system. Brenna had found the experience exciting, imagining ways to make the journey faster. Breakthrough Unlimited had snapped up graviton spin resonance drive experiments, after Space Fleet had given them up, partially in expectation of the glory—and the profits—that would accrue to whoever cut that long trip to the outer planets down to nothing.

  Derek's group was thinking in far different terms—of leaving the Solar System altogether and starting the whole colonizing procedure elsewhere.

  They were both impatient to see the stars. Humanity, toddling out of its backyard, finally, though earlier progress had been impressive. Within a century mankind had gone from interplanetary voyages which took years to those which consumed mere fractions of that time. The next big jump...

  ...would be Hiber-Ship's New Earth Seeker, the first manned vehicle to leave the Solar System.

  Eighth day. Brenna's vector brought her in "behind" Jupiter, though at a considerable distance out from the awesome world. She was millions of kilometers away, but Jupiter's disk loomed in her viewports. There were no colony settlements on Jupiter's near-satellites yet. The radiation problems generated by the planet had so far frustrated Earth's would-be pioneers. But those, too, must eventually yield to Homo sapiens' technology. Brenna hoped that dream would be fulfilled more easily than Breakthrough Unlimited's had been.