“Twenty-one oh-seven.” Eleven minutes. “I’m going to let you make your turn, and then I’ll pick you up on your way back in.”
Sylvia broke in from the Retreat: “Kellie, I’m sorry to hear you had a problem.”
“We’re going to lose the cargo.”
“I know.” She sounded sympathetic. “Don’t worry about it. They’re only books.” George closed his eyes and said something deep in his throat. “Your priority is to save yourself and George.” She paused, apparently uncertain what to say next. “Can he hear me?”
“I hear you, Sylvia.”
“George, I’m sorry. I know what this means to you.”
“She hasn’t a clue,” George told me. Then he spoke into the link. “Horrible thing to happen.”
“Nothing to be done.”
“Syl, I’d give my life—.”
“Not today, George. Not on my watch. I’ll see you topside for a late dinner.”
“Yeah,” he said.
“It’s okay. We’ll salvage what we can.” Then back to me: “Kellie, take care of him.”
“We’ll be okay, Sylvia. Tod’s on the scene.”
“All right. Let me know when you’re safe.” She signed off.
“Damned old bat,” said George. “She has no clue what we’re about to lose.”
A few minutes later we rounded apogee and began sinking again. We were coming in lower this time, approaching high country. We weren’t going to have much more than a thousand meters clearance above some of the higher peaks. Alpha drew alongside. “Time to go, George,” I said.
He nodded and slipped silently out of his restraints.
I wouldn’t have you think I was unsympathetic, but I was delighted to be getting out alive. I thought he could have been a bit more grateful. “George,” I said, “for all you know, they’re nothing more than a collection of thrillers. Or sociology texts. Or cook books.” The way he looked at me shut me down. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I wish we could save them.”
“You said we can’t ride it down. But we’ve gotten pretty low. Why not try? We aren’t going down that fast.” Beyond the crags the ground was leveling out.
“It only looks that way,” I said.
Alpha was gray and boxy. Its windows were lit up and I could see Tod at the controls. We were on the side away from the Twins and the cloud, but parts of the big ring were always in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the landscape.
“You ready to go, Kellie?” Tod was a big, freckle-faced kid just out of school. Flirted with everybody and thought the world would open up to him any time he wanted it to. So far, I guess it had. He also had the happy trait of inspiring confidence. I knew he’d do whatever was necessary to get us out.
“On our way.”
I activated the airlock but it didn’t open. It was on George’s right, out of reach for me.
“What’s wrong?” George asked.
“No problem. But I need your help.”
“Sure. What can I do?”
I released my harness, held onto the stick with one hand, and edged out of my seat. “Here,” I said “hold this.” I put his hand over mine and then withdrew, leaving him with control of the spacecraft. “Just keep it steady.”
“Okay,” he said uncertainly.
“No, don’t try to change seats.”
“Okay.” He looked at the controls and then out at the onrushing peaks and I knew he wasn’t happy.
I showed him what I needed. Keep this down. The stick stays here. If this light turns yellow, call me. The spike was staving off free fall, but that was about all you could say for it. It was like being in a damaged parachute.
I hurried over to the airlock, opened the inner door manually, gave George an encouraging pat on the shoulder, and released the outer hatch. It opened and I looked out at the void. Tod closed to within a few meters. His own airlock opened, and he appeared and waved.
“Good to see you, Kellie,” he said. His e-suit glimmered in the light from the ring. He held a lanyard. “Ready?”
“Not yet, Tod. Wait one.”
Looking back now, I have the impression I was vaguely aware of movement behind me. Maybe not. I can’t be sure. But I caught the lanyard on the first toss. It was a pair of cables, actually. I clipped them to my belt, and turned around. My intention was to attach one of them to George, loop the other one around something, and reclaim my chair until he’d jumped to safety. Then I’d recover my cable and follow him out the door. Shouldn’t be a problem.
But the inner airlock hatch was shut.
At first I thought there’d been a systems failure and the electronics had closed it. Then I realized what had happened. “George, what are you doing?”
“Get clear, Kellie. I’m going to do what I can for the books.” His voice was strained on the link.
“That’s crazy.”
Not too far ahead, another mountain range was approaching. I pulled the handle out of the housing and tried to open the inner door, but it wouldn’t turn. The son of a bitch was holding the hatch shut.
“George, let go.”
“Kellie, please. The longer you stand there the worse my chances.”
“You’re not even a pilot.”
“I’ve been riding these things all my life. You think I don’t know how they work? It isn’t rocket science, Kellie.” He laughed, but the sound bordered on hysteria. “Please go.”
“Kellie,” said Tod, “what’s going on?”
“Damn you, George. Listen, open up and I’ll stay.” Like hell. I’d pop him one and drag him out.
“No,” he said. “No reason for that. Get out of here—.”
I could have argued. But there was no time and I wasn’t going to throw my life away because somebody else didn’t know when to toss in his cards.
“Kellie, it’s getting late out here.”
Idiot.
I called his name one last time, listened to my heartbeat. And jumped.
My weight soared momentarily as I cleared the dampers, and then all but vanished as I came under the influence of Alpha’s systems. It was the only time I’ve done that, passed from one antigrav field to another, and it was a little like getting punched simultaneously front and rear. Tod hauled me in and we stood looking helplessly at the sinking lander.
“Not your fault, Kellie,” Tod said. “There wasn’t anything you could do.”
“Tod.” It was Jodie, Tod’s AI. She spoke with a Brooklyn accent. “If you and Kellie will shut the hatch and hang on, we can at least gain some altitude.”
Tod closed up and started to pressurize. Meanwhile we both grabbed hold of a support rail and he signaled Jodie. The deck rose.
“George,” I said. “Can you hear me?”
“I hear you, Kellie.”
There didn’t seem much point in recriminations. “Are you still in the chair?”
“Yes.”
“Restraints?”
“—Are already on.”
“Point the thrusters down.”
Pause. “How do I do that?”
Yeah. You know how to operate it. “Red levers on your left. Push full forward.”
I heard him grumbling to himself. Then: “Done.”
“Now turn on the thrusters. Full. You know how to do that?”
“Explain it to me, please.”
While I told him how, the inner airlock door opened and we took our seats. Tod watched him going down and shook his head.
His thrusters fired and his rate of descent slowed. But it wasn’t going to be enough, and even had it been he was moving forward too quickly. The ground was about to become a hopeless tangle of rock and metal.
“Kellie.”
“I’m here, George.”
“I’m sorry. I know this will create a problem for you.”
“Forget it. Just hang on.”
“Okay.”
And pray.
Tod set up a clock. I saw thirty-six seconds begin to tick down.
“Looks too fast, Kellie. I don’t think it’s going to work.”
I didn’t say anything. Didn’t know what to say. He’s watching the ground rush up at him, what am I going to do, tell him everything’s going to be fine, have a nice day?
The last few seconds drained away. And without a sound Delta ripped into the ground. There was a brief flare in the darkness—not enough fuel left for a real explosion—, and he was gone.