“I wish we could have done more.” She said good-bye to the others, wished them luck, and with an overwhelming sense of relief, or guilt, got out of there.
THE CORRIDORS WERE almost empty. Eric had loaded the Salvator. Valya collected everyone else with a breather and told them to board. After they’d gone through the airlock, eighteen remained in the tower.
Two women stopped her to ask if she’d heard anything new from the WhiteStar. “It’s about twenty minutes out,” she said.
So were the globes.
One of the two explained she was scheduled to leave on the Granville. She was an attractive woman, about twenty-five, black hair, dark eyes. With a scared smile. Trying to be brave. “It’s getting late,” she said.
“I know,” Valya told her. “I don’t have details.” She broke away and felt their eyes on her back as she hurried into the ship. Behind her, Estevan was calling everyone to the dining area.
SHE WAS RELIEVED to get back to the Salvator, to get on board, and close the hatch behind her. Put a barrier between herself and the Tower.
The interior was jammed. Thirty-plus people on a ship built for seven. Bill, aware that the airlock had shut, made his announcement: “Everyone with a breather, please put it on and commence to use it. Thank you. If you need assistance, let us know.”
Eric appeared to help with compliance. Several of her passengers were crowded into the common room. Others, she knew, were down in cargo. She exchanged smiles with them, squeezed past, and went onto the bridge.
“Everybody on board?” she asked Eric.
“I hope so,” he said. They were stacked on top of one another.
“How about the lander?”
“Lander’s full.” Thirty-five altogether. Plus Eric and herself.
“Moonriders are sixteen minutes away,” said Bill.
“Where’s the WhiteStar?”
“Estimate twenty-four minutes.”
Well, there was nothing she could do about it. It was time to get clear. Get as far away as she could.
She activated the allcom. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be getting under way in about sixty seconds. We’re going to take it slowly, but anyone who’s not in a seat please find something to hold on to. I’ll tell you when you can move around freely.”
“What’s wrong?” Eric asked.
She shook her head. Nothing.
Behind them, a female passenger sat on the deck in the hatchway. She was using a breather.
The ship’s scopes had picked up the black globes. They approached side by side, straddling and slightly above the tube.
“Where’s the Granville?”
“They made up some time,” said Bill. “They’re one hour fifty-three minutes out.”
An hour and a half behind the moonriders.
“Bill, I assume you haven’t been able to contact them?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’ve been in constant contact.”
“With the moonriders?”
“With the Granville. I apologize. I misunderstood. No, I have been transmitting constantly to the moonriders. They do not respond.”
“We’d better get started, don’t you think?” Eric’s voice. Somehow far away.
“Yeah.”
He activated his harness. He wasn’t going to need it, and he knew that. He was sending a message.
Nobody subtler than Eric.
“Valya.”
“No,” she said.
“No what?”
“I can’t do this.”
Outside, the long narrow dock pointed toward the stars.
“Can’t do what?”
“You’re captain, Eric.”
“What?”
“I’m going back.”
“What do you mean, going back? There isn’t time.”
She got up. The woman on the deck watched them curiously. Eric grabbed her arm. Held on. “You’ll be okay,” she said. “You don’t need me.”
“You’ll get yourself killed.”
“I’ll take an e-suit with me.”
“What will you do with an e-suit?”
“If I have to, I’ll jump off the platform.” She shook her head angrily. No time to argue. “Bill?”
“Yes, Valya.”
“When Eric tells you to, I want you to pull away to a range of three hundred kilometers.”
“Okay.”
“Do whatever Eric says. He’ll be my alternate until you hear otherwise.”
“Yes, Valya.”
“Eric, the Granville will be here in about an hour and a half. The Bloomberg and the Tanaka are running right behind it. Set up a rendezvous plan with the incoming ships — ”
“I can’t manage this,” he said.
“Sure you can. All you have to do is tell Bill what you want him to do, and he’ll take care of it. Transfer everybody with a breather to one of the other ships. There isn’t plenty of time to do it, but there is time.”
“All right.”
“After you’ve done that, get the people out of the shuttles. The shuttles here.”
“Goddam it, Valya, I wish you wouldn’t do this. I don’t see what you can do for them.”
“Eric, please — ”
“Just tell me why.”
She had no answer. Maybe she could help. Maybe she just couldn’t bear the thought that Estevan was a better woman than she was. Or Angie. Or a bunch of other people.
She collected an e-suit harness from the maintenance locker. But it had no oxygen. The tank had been given to one of the passengers. She looked down at the young woman on the deck. “May I have the breather?” she said.
The woman stared back at her, frightened. “Why?” She had a Russian accent.
“It’s okay. You won’t need it. There’ll be one less rider.”
SHE DIRECTED BILL to reopen the airlock. Eric watched her leave the bridge. Listened to her reassure her passengers — his passengers now — as she passed through the common room. Then she was gone and the airlock hatch closed.
Dumb.
He changed seats. Felt his authority increase. He was the captain.
The young woman who’d given her breather to Valya still looked confused. He indicated the chair he’d just vacated. “Climb in,” he said.
OTHER THAN VALYA, eighteen people were left in the tower, most of them gathered in the dining area with whatever they planned to take with them. Estevan sat up front with Julie, Angie, and Ho. They were talking softly, two conversations going at once. Estevan looked up, startled to see her. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Same as you. Trying to figure a way to get everybody off.”
“Can’t be done,” said Ho.
“You’ve lost your mind, Valya,” said Estevan. “Has your ship left yet?”
“Probably.”
“Call it back.”
“You need help.”
“What can you do?”
“I’m still thinking about it.”
“You’ve got a suit,” said Angie. “You can jump for it, if you have to.”
“I could do that.” That was what she intended to do if necessary.
Estevan studied her. “I’m tempted to crowd everyone on board the WhiteStar.”
“The cabin’s way too small. No way you could do it even if you had an air supply, which you don’t. You’re lucky it can fit seven. They’ll be on top of one another as it is.”
“Well,” said Julie, “welcome to the Short Timers Club.”
ON THE DISPLAY, the moonriders were burning another set of accelerator rings. “That’s the last,” said Angie. “They’ll be here in ten minutes.”
The Bergen called in. “We had a good jump, Origins. Will see you in two hours.”
And the Zheng Shaiming. “Two and a half hours, Salvator. We will be able to take twenty-six of your people.”
They drank coffee, and nobody said much. Estevan sighed, put her cup down, and got up. “How far away’s the WhiteStar?”