“You know him, Gabe?” Alex asked.
“More or less. I’ve been over here a couple times as a guest speaker. When I called yesterday, though, I couldn’t get past the AI.”
“How long’s it been shut down?” I asked.
“They tell me we’re the first people who will see it in about two years, other than science or historical groups.”
“Good thing we have you with us,” said Alex.
The curtains were drawn in Malcolm Denver’s office, which was decorated with framed certificates expressing appreciation for his work in archeological and scientific fields and framed photos depicting him conversing with persons of obvious significance. There was also a family portrait of him standing on a beach with his wife and two kids. And a gilded engraved cup denoting him as the winner of the 1431 Harbor Trophy. We’d been there about ten minutes when he came in, immediately recognized Gabe, and extended his hand. “It’s good to see you again,” he said. He was a thin, placid man, well into his later years but still with a long way to go. His hair was steel gray, his eyes stern, and his manner distant. He was casually dressed, with a blue shirt pulled loose over pale gray pants.
“Good to see you too, Malcolm. It’s been a while. This is my nephew, Alex. And our associate Chase Kolpath.”
He smiled politely in my direction without softening his expression, and adjusted the curtains to let more light into the room. Then he sat down in an armchair opposite Gabe. “I understand you’re interested in the Octavia VR display.”
“That’s correct,” said Gabe. “I hope we’re not creating an inconvenience.”
“No, no. We’re pleased to have the opportunity to help.” He did not look as if that were true. “May I ask the purpose of this?”
“I suspect everyone’s interested in what actually happened, Malcolm. I wonder if you have any theories about it?”
He pushed back into his chair. “We just don’t have anything to base a theory on. Octavia station was a Cherasco model. At last count there were eleven of them in orbit, but none around a black hole.”
“Why not?”
“I guess because wormhole research is expensive. But the key point here is that the Cherasco stations have been in position for a substantial number of years. Octavia is the only one that ever had a problem. So there’s no reason to believe there’s a defect anywhere. I’m not saying it couldn’t be. But there’s no indication of what it might have been.” He took a moment and chewed on his upper lip. “Have you heard of Reggie Greene?”
“Charlotte Hill’s former boyfriend,” said Alex.
“That’s correct.” The appearance of disinterest changed to disapproval. “Please understand, I’m not offering this as anything supported by evidence.” Gabe’s eyebrows rose but Alex leaned forward. “Of the four victims,” Denver continued, “Charlotte Hill drew most of the attention and sympathy. That’s probably because she was the only woman on board. And she was young. I’m sure you’re aware she was apparently pretty talented. Anthony Kingston predicted a brilliant future for her.”
“Who’s Anthony Kingston?” asked Gabe.
“A physicist who specialized in quantum research. He was stricken by the loss of Octavia and suffered heart failure at the height of the event. He was also a close friend of Womack’s. And he knew Housman as well. It was a terrible blow for him.”
“What,” asked Alex, “can you tell us about Greene?”
“He was the closest thing to a suspect who emerged from the investigation. He was a onetime boyfriend of Charlotte’s who turned into a stalker. We know that he visited Octavia on at least one occasion.”
“You mean,” said Alex, “he the station?”
“No. He simply turned up in the area. Tried to start a radio conversation with Charlotte. It apparently went nowhere.”
“This was reported by the station?”
“Yes. By Harding, I believe. He said the guy wasn’t actually visiting, just hanging around in the area, trying to get a conversation started with Charlotte. She apparently didn’t respond very well. The thing that raised eyebrows is that he was out in a family-owned yacht at the time of the disappearance. But there’s no record of his having been anywhere close to Octavia then. On the other hand, there’s no record of where he was. He had a girlfriend with him who swore they weren’t involved with or anywhere close to the space station. They were, she said, just out sightseeing. She passed every lie detector test. As did Greene. And the AI supported the same story. So unless they were able to figure a way to rig the AI without its being found out, their story was untouchable.”
“The black hole,” said Gabe, “is forty light-years from here. Do I have that right?”
“From here? Yes, forty-one actually. There was a pretty thorough investigation. A couple of vehicles from other stations could have reached the area at the time of the disappearance, but they were cleared after their AIs were checked. Nevertheless, it does seem likely the station was attacked.”
“Why do you say that?” asked Alex.
“There was a period of about thirty hours during every orbit when they lost communication with everyone. When they got completely behind the black hole. That was when they disappeared. It’s hard to believe that was a coincidence.”
“They had a shuttle,” said Alex. “I assume it didn’t have a star drive?”
“That’s correct. Charlotte would take it to the place where they were expecting the cannon pods to surface, and she’d stay there for weeks at a time.”
“Completely alone?”
“Yes. There was too much travel involved to bring her back regularly to the station.”
“And the shuttle had no star drive? And no hypercomm?”
Denver shook his head. “I guess they saw no need for it.”
Gabe didn’t look happy. “Do you have any idea at all if anyone had a reason to destroy the station?”
“No. The common theory is that it was aliens. And I know that sounds absurd. But it’s all we have.”
“Is there any possibility it could have simply exploded?”
“DPSAR has gone over that again and again.” He shook his head. “They maintain it’s impossible.” He looked as frustrated as I felt.
“You don’t really buy the alien theory, do you?” I asked.
“No. I think it was Greene. I don’t know how he beat the lie detectors, but I suspect he managed it somehow. It’s the only explanation that makes any sense. It’s a pity they couldn’t find enough evidence to convict him. They didn’t even have enough to take him to trial.” He looked up at the clock centered between a pair of windows. “All right. I can’t imagine we have anything that will assist your search. If you can think of any way we might be able to help, let me know. Good luck. We have the program all set to run. You’ll be in the Housman Room.”
“You’ve named it for him?” Gabe asked.
“Oh yes. It seemed like the least we could do. Del Housman, like his three colleagues, gave his life in pursuit of scientific advance. And he contributed a major breakthrough in the process.” He got out of his chair, looking thoroughly annoyed. “Probably killed by a lunatic ex-boyfriend.” He closed his eyes momentarily. “Follow me, please.”
The Housman Room wasn’t much larger than Denver’s office. It was furnished with half a dozen chairs and a table. A young woman was waiting when we entered. We sat down, and Denver told us the show would begin in a minute or two and explained that the events portrayed were taking place two weeks before the Octavia team had located the wormhole. At that time, Harding and Womack were in the space station, Housman was in the cannon’s operational center, and Hill was millions of kilometers away in the shuttle. He turned to the woman. “This is Elizabeth Pope. She’s an associate and will take you through the program.” He introduced us and said that if he could help us in any way, we shouldn’t hesitate to stop by his office. Then he left.