"Probably as close as the cream cheese," April said, getting a little dig in.
"There is promise here," Jeff said in faint praise. "I wonder if I ordered some onion bialys sent up special express, if they could duplicate them?"
"Ruby and Wanda are from Earth and they've been back on vacation when it was still safe. Ask them if they're acquainted with them. They're both foodies, I'd be surprised if they haven't had the real deal. I think a special express package starts at five hundred dollars Australian now, for a fifty gram envelope, so one bialy will be a few thousand dollars, and still at least eighteen hours old if they give it a police escort from oven to shuttle. It would be much cheaper to ask them if they're familiar with them. Just don't be negative about it when you ask them."
"OK I will, next time we eat there," Jeff agreed.
"Look, here comes something on the feed."
* * *
They made the window for the Brazilian news bigger. The commentary was in Portuguese, but they muted that and had it auto-translate and caption. It had a few snags in English but nothing you couldn't figure out pretty easily.
The news director must be skeptical. There were a lot of qualifying statements. Everything was carefully attributed as a release from Spooky Engineering or James Weir or one of his partners. The portraits were straight off of their website and didn't include any biographies. The Brazilian partners were featured more prominently than their North American partner.
The Pedro Escobar was shown assembled against the Hub of M3 with no mention of the habitat by either commercial or political name. The image was insufficient to make out much detail about it's construction. This seemed a pointless exercise to Jeff and April since a dozen private cameras panned it from different angles in much higher definition. You could figure all those would trickle down to the space nut sites over the next couple days.
The Brazilian lady had a badly proportioned chart with improbabe orbital lines drawn showing the moon and Earth. It neglected Home or any of the objects in Earth orbit. The radar showed a simple dot with numbers beside it that indicated azimuth, inclination and signal strength, but no indication from what object. Someone had tweaked the system to add a time count to the display April suspected was normally displayed elsewhere. They showed the antenna farm for the radar and an exterior shot of the facility. There wasn't any wider view of the radar equipment or the building interior. None of it seemed right. . .
"I bet that's just a studio graphics setup and they just get a digital feed. The public expects a radar set to look like a First Atomic War movie," April said.
"There's no sweeping line periodically repainting the screen," Jeff critiqued, And drew a slow sweeping arch with his finger like a ground car windshield wiper.
With appropriate hand waving by the Brazilian lady a dashed line ascended from the line depicting an orbit around the moon.
"I figure near a two hour run at a full G will give them as much velocity as their drone had," Jeff said. "The effect is better as the mass of the vessel goes up too."
"They're going to have a hard time finding two hours of stuff to say," April predicted.
"Don't worry, they'll say it all three of four times," Jeff said.
He was wrong. They hit the same points more like five times and brought in marginally connected material towards the end. He was expecting they might start showing clips of old science fiction shows if they didn't jump pretty soon. The European news had long cut away with a promise to return with an update.
The glowing dot on the Brazilian display vanished and they cut to Weir's partners going nuts celebrating. The newswoman looked briefly dismayed that there wasn't anything more spectacular, but recovered.
"Good for you James," Jeff said, and saluted with coffee mug.
"You really mean that, don't you?" April asked.
"Sure. You were the one, recently telling me you'd rather cooperate than compete, given the opportunity. I'd have loved to tell James I saw a twist on his work he didn't, but we were both restrained by our circumstances from being open and allying with each other. He did a superb job and made it work even without my improvements."
He didn't say anything for awhile before he expanded on that.
"What they have now is sufficient. I can't see any reason you couldn't build a real star going civilization from it. They don't need us to rescue them. In fact it will be good if they have ships coming and going," Jeff decided. "It will make it easier for us to come and go. One will look pretty much like the other jumping out. We won't have to skulk around. How ours actually performs can be our little secret, for awhile anyway."
On the screen the partners were explaining that their vessel intended to come to a stop in the Centauri system. The ship would take some photographs and dump a commemorative marker out with a radar reflector, a plaque and return to lunar orbit within six hours. The news program promised to cover that too.
"And back in time for a late lunch," Jeff said.
"Your belly is your clock," April said, but it didn't shame him at all.
Chapter 20
"It's 1400," April said.
"Ummm, yeah," Jeff agreed, after flicking his eyes up and to the side in his spex.
"The Pedro Escobar isn't back," April elaborated.
"Oh, that's not good." Jeff frowned, but he didn't say anything more.
"Can you think of anything that could have gone wrong?" April asked.
"You could probably make as long a list as I could," Jeff admitted. "We don't know much about his ship. It does have an experimental drive. It's probably only the second one of its class built after the drone. I have no idea how much redundancy they built in the other systems."
"They had to have a radio to talk to traffic control," April said.
"Sure, but that isn't much use on the other end. There's nobody to talk to," Jeff said.
"Just supposing, they got in trouble, how far can you talk on a standard ship radio?"
Jeff looked at her funny. "Not four light years. You know that."
"I mean if we took the Chariot back to the Centauri system. If they were transmitting on the emergency frequency, how far away could we hear them?"
"I was afraid that's what you meant. Happy said they used to have their construction scooter dish lock on and they'd talk to somebody in a rover on the moon. Both of those use about twenty five watt radios. Most of the ship radios work at that, but can boost to a hundred watts when they need to. Also our receivers now are better than when they started building M3. You can only do so much with the signal, but they are much better about the noise filtering algorithms.
"So a number. . . Out near a million kilometers, eight hundred thousand at a guess. It might break up a bit and you couldn't transmit clean data without a lot of repeats, but you would know somebody was there. It would take some time to scan an entire quadrant of the sky with the dish though. Usually you have some idea where you want to point it."
"Would you consider doing that, if they don't come back soon?" April asked.
"Yes," Jeff agreed, "because I'd hate to see that mind lost to us, and I just like him. But if we are going to do that it should be done quickly. You saw how close we came back in to Home and the moon when we immediately turned around, but if we had waited a few days would we have come in much further away? We just don't know yet how much local motion we retain when we jump. It will take time and have its own risks to find out.
"The longer we wait the less chance we'll find them. And it all still depends on why they didn't return. We can't really search when we get there. Just call out and listen for them. Frankly, they are probably dead. But if by some unlikely event they are just stranded, we might save them."
"The Chariot is in dock and not set to leave soon," April reminded him. "Why don't you call now and have it prepped to go as soon as we can?"
"Yes, but two things. I'd like to still do a lunar insertion. Not only does it cover our tracks, it is more fuel efficient, and I'd like to take someb
ody with some serious EV experience. If we do find them rendering aid and bringing them across may be difficult."
"The Chariot only seats four with the extra couches installed," April objected.
"This is when you pick what the mission requires instead of your personal desire."
"I can see that, but who else are you prepared to bring in on our secret?" April asked.
"Nobody, I'll have Barak lifted to join me in a hopper while in lunar orbit."
"I want to go, but everything you are saying makes sense. Do it," she urged.
Jeff picked up his pad and put the plan in motion.
* * *
The most difficult call to make was his last. Dave appeared on the screen with his shop office behind him.
"I need to ask you something about James Weir's vessel that is overdue." Jeff said. It was obvious from his face that was heavily on Dave's mind already.
"It's nothing about it that would be secret in any way. Does it have a conventional ships radio with the normal frequencies including the distress setting?" Jeff asked. "Does it have a scan and lock utility on a dish?"
"What do you care?" Dave asked a bit testy. "You can't go help him."
Jeff refused to reply, but neither did he offer to go away. He simply gave Dave what he hoped was his best neutral poker face.
Dave stared back at him, but at least he didn't disconnect.
"So, why would I ask?" Jeff said, hoping to make him think. "I'm in count to undock."
"Undock for where?" Dave asked.
"I'm filing for a lunar insertion and then. . . well, that's nobody's business after."
"I don't believe what you are implying," Dave said.
"You can listen to Departure control and see my filed flight plan. I'll leave in a bit less than three hours and I assure you I will assume a lunar orbit."
"No, I mean the then after part," Dave said.
"You don't think there'll be any after? Maybe not. I'll try to come back."
"Does this have anything to do with that damn hood ornament I built?" Dave demanded.
"We aren't going to talk about that," Jeff said.
"You've been around that Lewis girl too much. You were never this difficult."
"Perhaps I should ask her what radio the ship carries," Jeff speculated.
"Dear God, she may know. Somebody told me when you sit down to bargain with her she knows how much change you have in your pocket when you haven't counted it."
"I've heard at least three variations on that," Jeff admitted. "My favorite was about the fellow who doubted it and challenged her. He reached in his pocket to check her count and it was off. "Check your left pocket too," she told him.
"In truth, I doubt she already knows, she'd have to call around and start asking her network a whole bunch of questions about you. That might be an inconvenience when they all start asking you what her interest is. As you said, people have this weird inflated opinion about her natural inquisitiveness."
"It's a SpaceWaz 3000 with dish and everything standard, but it can do single side band."
"Thank you," Jeff said and disconnected.
* * *
"Nothing," Barak repeated. He'd scanned with the dish in the direction the system turned. That information hadn't been easy to obtain. It had only caught up with him after they left lunar orbit. Chen couldn't find a clear answer online, and had to actually speak with an astronomer to explain what he wanted to know. Small comfort that it wasn't an Earth astronomer. At least it wasn't Jeff himself asking how the rotational plane Alpha Centauri system was oriented to Sol's, but it was a Home citizen asking, and one more data point some bright person could use to figure out they had jump technology too.
"Crap. . . "
"You tried," Barak told Jeff. It wasn't comforting.
"If they din't get enmeshed in the rotation of the new system they should have heard us on omnidirectional radio, and if they did acquire local angular momentum entering they should be in the cone we scanned," Jeff insisted.
"I don't have any third idea to suggest," Barak said. "Except the obvious one that they somehow didn't arrive here at all."
"I'm taking us back," Jeff said, punching commands in the computer. They were already at rest having killed their entry velocity, and they were already pointed back home. So they felt no movement of the ship under them.
"Acceleration in twenty seconds. Secure your arms. Time for a quick scratch if you want."
Barak ignored that. He could scratch his nose under three Gs acceleration, though carefully. They didn't talk for awhile. There wasn't much of anything to say that wasn't depressing. Jeff didn't waste power on the compensators. Three G was tolerable, and anything they ran used fuel. They wanted all the margin they could keep.
"Jump in a minute," Jeff finally said. "The count showed in the corner of Barak's screen and the drive cut out ten seconds earlier. He had time for one deep breath without an unseen companion sitting on his chest and the pinpoint of Sol ahead became a bright disc the ports had to darken to make manageable.
"Got it," Jeff said. Meaning he'd acquired Earth and the moon visually, ahead but hard to one side. They'd moved in their absence, more than their previous jump, but still close enough the bright disc of the moon could be distinguished to one side of the Earth. It was a freaky big satellite after all.
"Autorotating and burn in ten," Jeff said. Turning wasn't the hazard heavy acceleration was so he shaved the warning time tighter.
"We're beyond radar range," Jeff said. "But everything looks to be about the right angle and distance we expected. Going by astronomical data and assuming there was no time shift we can be back in lunar orbit about sixty hours from now. We'll know exactly when we can range the moon by radar. I estimate we'll still have about a twenty percent mass reserve, and more fuel than that, because I had it topped off in case we needed the auxiliary power."
"If it's all the same to you. I'd just as soon go back to Home with you," Barak requested. "They released me from any work schedule for as long as needed, so I have no report time I have to meet. That doesn't happen often, so I'd like to take advantage of it. I can take commercial transport back to Central a lot cheaper than having you drop me off. I'd like to spend some money on luxuries we don't have at Central and visit April."
"OK, I've been staying at April's and letting my hired man have my office cubic to himself. I'll call ahead and tell him I'm coming back for awhile."
"Why?" Barak asked. "It's April's place. Let her set the rules and tell us what she wants. I haven't noticed her being shy to say exactly what she prefers."
"You're right. April would tell me I'm not her social secretary. But I am pretty comfortable with April telling me what to do for social things," Jeff conceded. So I'll just leave it that way and let her take the lead."
"Kurt and I always let the ladies set the social agenda," Barak admitted. "I can't say it's ever been anything but to our benefit."
* * *
Jeff was reluctant to call and tell April about their failure. He was worried she would be upset and depressed and he was reluctant to be the instrument of that. But when they got in com range he knew not calling would be the same as announcing their failure. That might seem cowardly. Actually it might be cowardly he decided on reflection.
When he did call she took one look at his face and her own fell. He didn't have to say anything. "Well you tried. Thank you."
"I'm bringing Barak back with me. He wants a break from Central."
"That's good. Central is kind of small town boring. We need to show him a good time, take him to the club and send him home happy. See you at dock," she promised.
The command chairs in the Chariot were side by side, Barak couldn't follow all of that. And the conversation had been very one sided and strange.
"How did April take it? I didn't hear you actually tell her we failed."
"She read it straight off my face, I thought she'd be devastated, but she accepted it and moved on in a heartbeat."
>
"Women are much more resilient than us," Barak said. "Good thing, since we give them so much grief."
"She wants us to take you out and show you a good time. At least as much as can be had on Home." He hadn't been a hundred percent sure it would be we.
"Which is a lot more than can be had at Central," Barak assured him.
* * *
Jeff and Barak took turns at the shower, welcome after a couple days in a pressure suit. April offered drinks and said she was having wine, which was unusual for her. She wasn't a big drinker. Barak took wine too and Jeff a beer. They relaxed and April left the screen on an environmental feed instead of news so as not to add to the stress level.
All the news services were still repeating the story of the Pedro Escobar's loss with interviews with everybody from the President of Brazil down to James Weir's former school mates and a sketchy biography of his copilot Martin Law. They covered his Canadian upbringing before going to space, and avoided actually saying he was a citizen of Home. They were being painted heroes of mankind. Not too far off the truth as far as April was concerned. Not that they didn't plan to make a little change off the deal, but they'd have deserved it.
"Call me a cynic, but if those guys had come back in the six hour bracket they intended to half these people would be arguing they faked it instead of mourning them," Barak said. "Give it a few days and there will be conspiracy theorists saying they did return and are living under other names in Cuba and it's all a scam to get people to invest in their company."
"Well they did do half of what they intended," April pointed out. "Enough of a demonstration that I think they'll have lots of investors."
"But there may be a shortage of pilots wanting to make the same run," Barak predicted.
"Throw enough money at it and you can do it with a very advanced AI and enough automation. I think that's what will happen. They'll go robotic until they feel it's safe enough for humans," Jeff predicted. "We could do it that way with enough funding."
A Sudden Departure (April Book 9) Page 25
