Then, preparing to head home, he went through the retro protocols several times, double-checking until Command accused him of stalling.
“Can it!” he told them sharply. “I’m just making sure I know exactly where I am and where I’m going.”
As the pyrotechnics of reentry erupted around the cockpit windows, Mark later realized he’d spoken exactly as Teresa Tikhana would have. To the mission controllers, he must have sounded just like her.
“Hell, Rip,” he muttered, apologizing to her in absentia. “I never knew how you felt about that, till now. I promise, I won’t ever make fun of you again.”
Even much later, when he was once more on the steady ground, Mark walked cautiously toward the crowd of anxious, waiting officials with a cautious gait, as if the tarmac weren’t quite as certain- a platform as the others believed. And even when he began answering their fevered questions, Mark kept glancing at the horizon, at the sun and sky, as if to check and check again his bearings.
□ Although claiming they have now completely resolved the technical errors that led to the tragedy of 2029, the governments of Korea and Japan nevertheless today delayed reopening the Fukuoka-Pusan Tunnel. No explanation was given, although it’s known a recent spate of unusual seismic activity has caused concern. The temblors do not fit the commission’s computer models, and no opening will take place until these discrepancies are explained.
In regional social news, 26-year-old Yukiko Saito, heiress to the Taira family fortune, announced her betrothal to Clive Blenheim, Earl of Hampshire, whose noble, if impoverished line stretches back to well before the Norman Conquest.
The most recent planetological survey indicates that the islands of Japan contain approximately ten percent of all the world’s volcanoes.
• EXOSPHERE
How much difference could a month make? The last time Teresa had sat at this table, deep inside the secret warrens of Waitomo, her personal world had only recently crashed in on her. Now her grief was stabilized. She could look back at her passionate interlude in Greenland as part of a widow’s recovery, and begin thinking about other things than Jason. Of course, last time she had also been numb from a completely different shock — learning about Earth’s dire jeopardy. That fact hadn’t changed.
But at least we’re doing something about it now. Futile or not, their efforts were good for the spirit.
George Hutton was just finishing his overall status report. Their limited success so far was visible in the large-scale display where their foe could now be seen swinging about on an elongated orbit, rising briefly out of the crystalline inner sphere into the second layer — the outer core of liquid metal. No longer a complacent eater, squatting undisturbed amid a banquet of high-density matter, the purple dot now seemed to throb angrily.
Teresa approved. We’re coming after you, beast. We’ve begun defending ourselves.
That was the good news. Give or take a few panicky moments, all four resonators had commenced firing sequences of tandem pulses to convert the planet’s own stored energy into beams of coherent gravity, recoiling against Beta and gradually shoving it outward toward—
Toward what? We still haven’t figured out what to do with the damned thing. Push until its growing orbit takes it out of the Earth, I suppose. But then what? Let a decaying singularity, blazing at a million degrees, keep whizzing round and round, entering and leaving, entering and leaving till it dissipates at last in a huge burst of gamma rays?
Teresa shrugged. As if by then the choice will still be in our hands. That was one reason the mood at the table was somber.
Another cause was visible on the outermost shell of the planetary model… a pattern of lights signifying where gazer beams had emerged at land or sea.
Actually, most of the beams pulsed at modes and wavelengths interacting not at all with surface objects. Often, the only effect was a local wind shift or eddies in an ocean current. Still, from a quarter of the sites came rumors of strange colors or thunderclaps in a clear blue sky. Hearsay about water spouts or disappearing clouds. Accounts of dams destroyed, of circular swirls cut in wheat fields, of aircraft vanishing without a trace.
Teresa glanced over at Alex Lustig. He had already told of his efforts to avoid population centers, and she didn’t doubt his sincerity. Still, something had changed in the man since she had seen him last. By now, in all honesty, she had expected to find him a wreck. Tossed by guilt as he had been when they first met, Teresa figured him due for a nervous breakdown when the toll of innocent victims began to rise.
Oddly, he now seemed at peace listening patiently to each speaker as the meeting progressed, exhibiting none of the nervous gestures she recalled. His expression appeared almost serene.
Maybe it isn’t so odd at that, Teresa thought. Beyond the pool of light cast by the display, she saw June Morgan move over behind Lustig and start massaging his shoulders. Teresa’s nostrils flared. They deserve each other, she , thought, and then frowned, wondering what she meant by that.
“We’ve tried to avoid predictable patterns,” George Hutton was saying. “So it would be hard to track down our resonators’ locations. No doubt several major nations and alliances and multinationals already suspect the disturbances are of human origin. In fact, we’re counting on a suspicious reaction. So long as they’re blaming each other, they’ll not go looking for a private group.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?” Teresa asked. “What if someone panics? Especially one of the deterrence powers? It doesn’t take much effort to break the treaty seals on a squadron of cruise missiles, you know. Just hammers and some simple software.”
Pedro Manella leaned into the light. “That’s under control, Captain. First, the seismic occurrences are taking place impartially, worldwide. The only organized pattern anyone will notice is that the disturbances statistically avoid major population centers.
“Second — I’ve taken care to deposit sequestered announcements with a secret registration service, triggered for net release the instant any power goes to yellow alert.”
Alex shook his head. “I thought we weren’t going to trust any of the services.”
Manella shrugged. “After your own unpleasant experience, Lustig, I don’t blame you for feeling that way. But there’s no chance of premature release this time. Anyway, the announcement only gives enough hints to get some trigger-happy crisis team to slow down and consult their geologists.”
George Hutton touched a control, dimming the globe display and bringing up the room lights. Alex squeezed June Morgan’s hand and she returned to her seat. Teresa looked away, feeling at once voyeuristic and resentful. She’s a collector, Teresa thought. How can a woman who^once wanted Jason also be attracted to a man like Lustig?
She suppressed an urge to turn around and look at him again, this time in frank curiosity.
“Besides,” George Hutton added. “There’s a limit to how long we can keep this secret anyway. Sooner or later someone’s going to track us down.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Pedro countered. “Our weakest link is the Net, but I have some very bright people working for me in Washington. By keeping traffic to a minimum and using tricks like your Maori mountain-iwi dialect, we could mask our short blips for as long as six months, even a year.”
“Hmph.” George sounded doubtful and Teresa agreed. Manella’s optimism seemed farfetched. There were too many bored hackers out there with free time and kilobit parallel correlators, looking for any excuse to stir up a sensation. Frankly, she wasn’t at all sure whether she’d be greeted by her tame NASA flunkies when she got back to Houston or by a pack of security boys, wearing total-record goggles and slapping her with inquiry warrants.