The sky was crowded by Aldebaran IV and its rings. And despite its distance, the scarlet sun also loomed large. Everything on the ground—soil, vegetation, water—had a crimson tinge. The landscape was mostly flat, with occasional hills. Something that might have been a giraffe was nibbling on one of the trees near the front of the hotel. As we got closer, we saw a few birds. A couple of canines were chasing each other around one of the fields.
We were looking at three connected structures, any of which would not have raised any eyebrows in Andiquar. The architects had gone out of their way to create a sense that the occupants were effectively at home. Later I read that the point was to increase the levels of excitement and uneasiness by suggesting that cosmic hazards can threaten anyplace.
The buildings looked complete. The central structure had a front entrance with a portico, columns, and steps. The construction material was probably plastene. Walls were blue and white, while doors and window frames were gold. There was no sign of outside activity. We slipped into a geosynchronous orbit so there’d be no problem getting a connection when, and if, Poliks called.
We were still floating above the hotel seven hours later when End Times connected us with him. he asked. He was younger than I’d expected, with blond hair and dark eyes. He also had a smile that didn’t quite make it past his lips.
“Mr. Poliks,” Alex said, “we’re doing research on the Octavia station. I know you’ve been interviewed before about this, but we have a new piece of information that you might be able to help with.”
“Mr. Poliks, did you ever receive any transmissions from any of the people on board the Octavia station?”
He closed his eyes momentarily, letting us see he’d hoped we would move on.
“How well did you know Charlotte Hill?”
“Yes.”
“Shortly before it disappeared, she told one of her friends that there might be a problem of some kind on the station. She didn’t specify what it was. But she said that if it got worse, she’d let know the details.”
“No.”
“You Royce Poliks, right?”
Alex is usually pretty good at hiding his emotions, but there was no doubt about the frustration in his features. “All right,” he said finally. “Mr. Poliks, I apologize for taking your time. We’ve come from Rimway. We were hoping you might be of some help.”
Alex looked toward me. “This is Chase Kolpath, by the way.”
Poliks smiled. “Nice to meet you, Chase.”
I returned the smile. It seemed the right moment to try to relieve the tension that was building. “Royce,” I said, “it’s hard to believe anybody’s really going to come out here just because this place is falling out of orbit. It won’t happen for, what, twenty years? Why would anybody care? I can understand they’d come during the last week or two, but—”
“When will you be opening?”
I knew Alex wanted to get past the link, meet the guy on the ground, and talk to him there. “I’m not sure what time it is down there, Mr. Poliks, but can we take you to lunch or dinner or something?”
“What kind of work do you do, sir?”
I couldn’t help sympathizing with him. He seemed like a decent guy, tired of people asking the same questions over and over.
“I got it,” said Alex.
So much for the secret message from Charlotte.
said Poliks.
“No,” said Alex. “We have some theories. Not much else. I assume the power system on the cannon also had backup?”
“Yes, it did.”
“Were you responsible for both systems? On the station and on the cannon?”
I got a brief smile from him.
“The cannon is still orbiting the black hole?”
“Do you know if there are any plans to recover it?”
“So that’s ongoing?”
“If we went out there, would we be able to get a look at it? The interior?”
“Thanks, Mr. Poliks. I appreciate your time.”
XXXIII.