At the far end of the dining room, a bank of clocks showed the time in Tokyo, Paris, Berlin, London, New York, and Rome. Union was officially on GMT, but visitors were free to maintain whatever time zone they wanted. All services operated on a twenty-four-hour schedule. Restaurants could always provide breakfast or dinner or a nightcap.
The Locarno experiment was running on Washington time, where it was just after noon.
They collected more reporters and some MacElroy students, but Jon and Hutchins were both good at dealing with them, so Matt relaxed and enjoyed the show. Hutchins pointed out to several of the kids that “Jon’s device” might one day take them to the far side of the galaxy.
One of the kids wondered if we’d ever be able to go to Andromeda.
“Who knows?” she said. “Maybe.”
Everyone they met wanted to know whether the Locarno would work this time.
Jon inevitably shrugged his shoulders. “We’ll have to wait and see.”
THE ORIGINAL PLAN had been to retreat to Matt’s room after lunch, but things went so well in the restaurant that, with the encouragement of management, they stayed. People began coming in from the concourse to shake their hands and wish them well. Rudy wandered in and bought a round of drinks.
Janet Allegri called Hutchins to wish her luck. The name struck a chord with Matt, but he couldn’t place her until Hutchins explained. She was part of the original mission that had uncovered the omegas. She’d written a best-selling account of those events.
Strangers asked for autographs, took pictures, introduced their kids.
Matt knew he should have been enjoying himself. But he’d have preferred the good times after he was assured of success. This was premature. “Better to do it now,” said Hutch, in a moment of cold honesty. “Might not be able to later.”
When it got close to three, they broke away and, trailing kids and reporters, went down to the lower deck and made for the observation area. This time there was no plan for an actor’s voice announcing good news from Pluto, or whatever the message was to have been. When the transmission arrived, a white auxiliary lamp mounted on the panel would switch on. That would be it.
A small crowd waited. And if the tension had been missing earlier, it was present now. People shook their hands and made way as they entered. One of the kids, seated in Jon’s chair, hurriedly evacuated. Others made room for Matt and Hutchins.
The room became quiet, except for whispered comments. They sure the radio beam has enough energy to get here?
I don’t think I realized Pluto was that far.
Matt’s eyes drifted shut. He was tired. Not sleepy. Too rattled to be sleepy, but he had no energy left. He wanted it to be over.
It was 3:03. Fourteen minutes to go. Matt thought how it would be to return the lander to the school after a successful test. He’d circle the school a couple of times and, while a cheering crowd watched, set it down in its accustomed place. Get out and shake everyone’s hand.
He held the picture in his head, replaying it, and finally opened his eyes. It was 3:04.
The launch bay was nearly empty. Only two ships were visible. While he stared through the viewport, not even aware he was doing so, somebody took his picture. One of the MacElroy science teachers. “Hope you don’t mind,” she said. And whispered good luck. A few people hurried through the doors, fearful they were late.
He looked around to see Hutchins watching him. She smiled as their eyes connected. Mouthed the words Almost there.
Jon was holding on to his coffee cup, not drinking any of it, just hanging on while his gaze wandered around the room. It swept across Matt, not pausing, not reacting. Whatever facade he’d been using, it was gone now. Only one thing mattered.
Somebody put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Julie. She hadn’t been there earlier. “Hi, Matt,” she said. “Big day, huh?”
There was a fudge factor. No way to be sure precisely how far the lander might have traveled. The signal could be as much as a minute early. Or a minute late. Probably no more than that.
Could be anytime now.
Everybody was watching the signal lamp.
He became aware of a barely audible heartbeat in the deck and bulkheads, rhythms set off by the systems that supplied power to the station.
One of the kids giggled.
A chair scraped.
Jon seemed not to be breathing.
A girl whispered, “Stop.”
Then it was 3:17.
Matt looked at the lamp. It was one of several status lights set in a vertical row. Six of them altogether. The one he was watching was four from the top.
Then it was plus thirteen seconds.
Fourteen.
Fifty-two.
He closed his eyes. When he opened them, about a minute later, the lamp was still unlit.
TABLOID ROUNDUP
PSYCHIC SAYS INFERNAL FORCES BLOCKED STAR DRIVE TEST
Josh Coburn, the celebrated psychic from Havertown, PA., said today that dark forces are at work to ensure that humans do not succeed in making long-range penetration into the greater galaxy.
OMEGA CLOUDS MAY BE A HOAX
EDEN FOUND
Former Paradise Now Desert in West Saud
Bones May Have Been Adam’s
Scientists to Try DNA Analysis
GHOST OF AI HAUNTS MISSISSIPPI TOWNHOUSE
END OF DAYS NEAR
“All Signs Point to November,” Says Harry Colmer
HEAVEN LOCATED
Astronomers Reveal Shocking Photos
Giant Star Cloud on Other Side of Galaxy
JESUS’ FACE SEEN ON EPSILON AURIGAE MOON
WOMAN HAS CHILD BY NOK
First Human-Alien Hybrid
Experts Said It Couldn’t Happen
Named Kor After Father
HURRICANE MELINDA SENT BY GOD?
Billy Pat Thomas Says Evidence Points to Divine Anger
Church-Going Back Up in Mississippi
ATLANTIS FOUND
VAMPIRE LOOSE IN ALBANY?
Six Victims Drained of Blood
Bite Marks on Throat
Police Baffled
PSYCHIC TREES ON QURAQUA
Branch Patterns Reveal Future, Experts Say
SHOCKING TRUTH BEHIND MURDER OF PREACHER’S WIFE
chapter 14
MATT HAD RESERVED his room at Union, expecting, hoping, to party through the night. Instead he canceled out, said good-bye to Hutchins and Jon, and caught the earliest available shuttle back to Reagan. Some of the students were on board. They wished him better luck next time.
Reyna called him en route. “Sorry,” she said.
He looked out the window. The skies over eastern North America and the western Atlantic were clear. “I guess we lost the school’s lander,” he told her.
“I guess. But they knew there was a chance that would happen.”
“I know. Maybe next time we should just send a missile.”
“Is that practical?”
“I don’t know. Probably not.”
She didn’t say anything for a minute. Then: “You okay?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”
“What will you do now?”
“Back to my desk at Stern and Hopkins.”
“No, I mean, are you going to give up on the drive?”
Two kids across the aisle were laughing hysterically at something. “It’s not really my call. But unless somebody is willing to donate another lander, yeah, I’d say my part in this drill is finished.”
Another pause. “What time are you getting in?”
“A bit after eight.”