Klymer picked up the explanation. “The freighters will be taken out to Terranova — ”
“Piloted by the AIs?”
“Oh, yes. Of course. The ships wouldn’t be safe. But we’re pretty sure we can get them there. Once they arrive, we’ll put them in front of the asteroid. Same course and velocity.”
“And,” said Prescott, “gravity will do the rest. The ships have sufficient mass to accelerate the asteroid. It’ll miss Terranova by a substantial margin.”
“Very good,” Hutch said. “I’m impressed.”
“Ms. Hutchins,” said Prescott, “when a contribution needs to be made, we can come together.”
She looked over at Dryden, wondering what role Orion Tours was playing.
Asquith delivered a broad, satisfied smile. “Hutch,” he said, “we want to announce the project at a joint press conference in the morning. Can you set it up?”
“Sure, Michael. I can do that.”
He looked at the others. “Is nine o’clock okay?” Nobody had a problem. “We’ll want you there, too, Hutch,” he said.
She turned to Dryden. “Charlie, can I assume Orion will also be part of the effort?”
“Yes, indeed.” He gave her a broad smile. “We’re contributing an engineering team to restore the freighters so they can make the flight.”
Asquith beamed and went on about how it was a shining moment for all of them. “A lot of people, and I’m thinking here especially of professional cynics like your friend MacAllister, would deny that major corporations can collaborate in a public-spirited enterprise.” He smiled at each of them in turn. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “I think we can all take a bow.”
SO MUCH FOR a quiet evening at home. She had one of Eric’s staff members send out notifications for the press conference, explaining that it was concerned with the “recent events at Ophiuchi.” It prompted a quick flood of inquiries, which he duly passed to her. Had there been additional developments? More sightings? Online Express wanted to know if it was true that aliens had landed in Arizona.
Her workload had declined considerably as the missions dropped off. She had time now to wander the corridors, stroll through the grounds, listen to the fountains. She wondered where she’d be in another year. Sitting on the front porch, maybe, writing her memoirs.
She missed piloting. The universe had gotten smaller, had narrowed down to a strip of Virginia and the DC area. Her big thrill consisted of going with Tor and Maureen to the seashore.
Occasionally, she wondered whether marrying had been a mistake. She loved her husband, and she adored Maureen, liked nothing better than playing tag with her, than running upstairs with the girl giggling behind her. She looked forward to the arrival of her second child. Still, her life had acquired a blandness that she could have endured easily enough had she been assured that one day it would end, and she could go back to the deep spaces between the stars.
She’d been more alive in those years. Or maybe alive in a different way. Her passions had been stronger, the sense of accomplishment greater. Soaring out across a world no one had ever seen before carried with it an exhilaration that life in a bureaucracy — or, if she dared admit it to herself, in a marriage — could never match.
She’d already bailed out of an administrative job once. A year or so after they’d discovered the chindi, she’d accepted a staff position, a promotion, partly because it was what you were supposed to do. They’d asked her if she wanted to spend the rest of her life in the fleet. The decision had been easy enough because she’d fallen in love with Tor, and no future with him seemed possible without a groundside job.
She’d lasted fourteen months, had tried to find something else that would interest her, had given up and — with his blessing — gone back to piloting for a year or so. Finally, she settled in as assistant to the director of operations. Not long after that she’d gotten the top job.
It paid well. It was challenging. Sometimes, like now, it was even exciting. But she would have given a great deal to have been out on the Salvator with Mac and the others. That was where she belonged.
“Hutch.” The AI’s voice. “Dr. Asquith is calling again.”
Twice in one night. She wondered if he was bored. “Everything okay?” she asked.
“Hutch, I want you to see something.” He told the AI to run a clip. “Rita sent this over. They just received it.” Rita was the duty officer at Union Control.
A man she’d never seen before blinked on. Standing by a viewport, through which she could see a star-strewn sky and a planetary rim. “Shanna,” he said. His voice was strained. “We’ve got a problem. There’s an asteroid coming this way. A big one.” He and the viewport blinked off and were replaced by the object itself. “It’s six hundred kilometers across.”
Asquith froze the image. “This is from the Galactic,” he said. The hotel that Orion was building at Capella. “My God, Hutch, it’s an attack.”
It wasn’t just another big rock. Think Boston to DC. It was a small planet this time. “Let’s not jump to conclusions,” she said. “When’s it going to get there?”
“Don’t know.”
“Okay, look. It’s not what you think.”
“Why not?” He didn’t sound as if he was in a mood to dispute details.
“The hotel’s being built in orbit at Capella V?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a sterile world. Nobody’s going to bother bombing it.”
He shook his head. “I wish I understood what’s going on.”
The man at the viewport was back. “Got more,” he said. He was heavyset, black skin and beard, about forty, with features that suggested he enjoyed a good time. At the moment he looked scared. “It’s going to take out the hotel.” He was having a hard time keeping his voice calm. “The goddam thing is coming right at us. Dead on. They’re telling me it will miss the planet. But nail us. The bastards are shooting at us.” He stopped a moment. Tried to calm down. “We have a ship on-station, but it’s not anywhere near big enough to get everyone off. Shanna, you need to get us out of here. Quick. Please advise.”
The Orion Tours logo replaced the image.
“My God,” said Hutch. “When’s it going to happen?”
Asquith shrugged. “You know as much as I do. Judging from the way he sounds — ”
“How many people do they have out there? At the construction site?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“Okay. I assume Dryden’s asked for help.”
“I haven’t heard from him yet.” He was on his feet, treading back and forth. “That asteroid that passed us a few weeks ago. I wonder if they were behind that, too?”
“It missed, Michael.”
He shrugged again. “So they screwed up that one.”
“Michael, we get Earth-crossers all the time. We just happened not to see it coming. But something with a six-hundred-klick diameter? If the moonriders could move something that massive, could aim it at a moving target as small as a hotel — ” What were they up against?
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“If they have the capability to push around a rock the size of Arizona, why would they bother?”
“What do you mean?”
“If they have that kind of technology, and they wanted to get rid of the hotel, surely they’d have a more sophisticated way of doing it than tossing a small moon at it. Why not just pull up and bomb it? Or use a particle beam? Why on Earth would you throw rocks?”
“I don’t know,” he said. There was a touch of hysteria in his voice. “Maybe when we get closer to them, you can ask.”
ASQUITH GOT DRYDEN on the circuit. Charlie just sat shaking his head. “I can’t believe it. Why would they do something like this? What’s wrong with these creatures?” His voice hardened, and he looked ready to kill.