We were just touching down when Jordan Kaye’s voice came in on the radio, welcoming us. It was actually Kaye, not the AI that one usually hears. he said.
Gabe rolled his eyes. “Call me Chase,” I said. “What happened?”
“Who leased it?”
“Your yacht was leased out to someone without your knowledge?”
Gabe turned in my direction. “Doesn’t it take a while to get serviced before you can go out again?”
“It can happen overnight, Gabe. That’s not a big deal.” I got back to the call. “Okay, Jordan. Thanks. If you could let us know when it’s available, we’d be grateful.”
Gabe nodded. “We’ll be right there.”
The front door opened, and a man in fatigues and a cuffless knit black hat came out of the building onto the veranda, along with a girl and a dog. The girl was about eight. She waved at us. We climbed out of the skimmer and waved back. A flagstone walkway led through neatly cut grass to a set of stone steps. The dog was a cocker spaniel. It arrived and began licking my knees. The man ordered it to back off. It did, and he apologized. “Sorry,” he said, “she tends to be a bit overly friendly.” He came down the steps, accompanied by the girl. “Hi, Chase. It’s good to meet you.”
“And you as well, Jordan. This is my boss Gabriel Benedict.”
“Hello, Mr. Benedict.” We all shook hands. Then he looked down at the girl. “This is Mary.”
“The young lady the yacht is named for,” said Gabe.
“That’s correct.” The dog was trying to insinuate itself into the conversation, wagging its tail. “And Chirpie,” he said. “Please come in.”
He followed us inside. A young woman with glistening dark eyes was seated in a luxurious living room, reading. She put the tablet down and rose. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Donna.” His wife. The walls were covered with surrealistic artwork depicting an upside-down landscape, an angel in tears, and a twisted skyscraper. There were also framed photos, one of Mary and Chirpie, another of Jordan again in fatigues, kneeling beside a purple bush holding a pair of clippers while Donna beamed down at him. And a wedding picture. The happy couple stood in front of a church.
Donna extended her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gabriel. And Chase. I understand you want to talk to Boomer.”
“Boomer?” I said. “Is that the AI?”
“Yes.”
“I thought,” said Gabe, “that naming the yacht for Mary was an excellent idea.”
Jordan watched his daughter light up. “Yes,” she said, reaching down to pet the dog, which began wagging its tail again.
He grinned. “Mary has more energy than the Korba unit.”
The girl was a delight, a small blossoming edition of her mom. I smiled back at her. “Have you been on the yacht, Mary?”
“Oh yes. We just got back from looking at a .”
“That must have been exciting.”
She was almost salivating. “I’ve been out there before. And to other far places. My daddy loves them, don’t you, Daddy?”
“I guess we all do, Mary.”
At Donna’s signal, we spread out around the living room and sat down. “Why,” she said, “do you want to talk to Boomer? What’s going on?”
Gabe took it: “We’re doing some research on Rick Harding.”
“Who?”
“Rick Harding. He was the previous owner of the .”
She was shaking her head. “The what?”
“Your yacht. Up at Skydeck.”
“You mean the ? Oh yes, I remember that. That was the original name. It’s a long time ago.”
“I was originally going to name it for ,” Jordan said, indicating his wife. “But she refused. She’s too modest.”
“That’s the first time you’ve accused me of that.”
He laughed. “You claimed it didn’t feel right. We tried . But that didn’t work well either. So when came along”—he smiled down at Mary—“the call was easy.”
Donna asked if she could get us something to drink. Everybody passed. “Then how about some lunch? As long as we brought you out here, we need to do something for you.”
“Come to think of it,” said Gabe, “I am a bit hungry.”
“Good. What would you like?”
We made our selections and Donna passed them along to the AI. Then she turned back to Gabe. “So why do you want to talk to Boomer? What’s it got to do with Harding?”
“You know he was on board Octavia when it got lost?”
She frowned at her husband. “What’s Octavia?”
He grinned. “It was that space station that disappeared ten or fifteen years ago.”
“Oh. And the guy we bought the from was on that?” She stopped and frowned. “Come to think of it, I guess I did hear that somewhere.”
“I’d forgotten about it, Chase,” said Jordan. “You didn’t mention the space station yesterday.”
“There didn’t seem any need to.” I could see that Gabe was beginning to get an impatient expression. “We’re trying to find out what happened. Harding picked up an artifact somewhere that doesn’t seem to be anything produced by us.”
“What kind of artifact?” asked Donna.
“It’s a plaque, made from a metal that looks like silver but is apparently something else. There’s an inscription on it in a language no one can read.”
“You mean,” said Jordan, “you think aliens did it? Took the space station? I’ve heard that before.”
“That’s not what we think, but there’s an outside possibility.”
Mary looked up at her father. “Daddy, what’s an alien?”
“Somebody from another place, love.” Jordan could hardly contain his excitement. “Wow. And you want permission to question Boomer?”
Gabe nodded. “Yes.”
“Absolutely.” He was wearing one of the widest smiles I’d ever seen.
“May I ask why you bought the ?” Gabe asked. “Was it meant for Golden Tours?”
“You know, I’m not sure. But probably.”
“Do you guys run the company?”
“I do. Donna’s not much into it.”
“It’s boring,” she said.
Jordan smiled. “If you want to go somewhere unusual, out of the way, we’re the people you talk to. We don’t do the routine spots.” It sounded, the way he said it, like the company motif.
Lunch arrived a few minutes later. It was good. And Jordan assured us he’d get in touch as soon as the got back.
XIII.