But anyone who’d gone out on the superluminals had a different mind-set. Robert Heinlein, back in the twentieth century, had gotten it right: the cool, green hills of Earth. What a treasure they are. Once you got off-world, the nearest forest was on Terranova, orbiting 36 Ophiuchi. Nineteen light-years away. How long would it take her taxi, cruising lazily through the gray early-morning mist, to cover nineteen light-years?
It dropped her at the rooftop terminal, and she strolled down to her office on the main floor, happy that the world was still intact, sobered by the thought of what might have happened. The Heffernan passengers were safe, the asteroid had missed, and all was well.
Or so it seemed until Marla wished her good morning in the voice she reserved to indicate something was happening.
“What?” asked Hutch.
“The commissioner wants you to keep your schedule clear this morning. He’s going to want to see you.”
“Did he say when?”
“No. ‘Later.’”
“Did he say what about?”
“No, ma’am.”
A smarter executive than Asquith would be summoning her to bestow congratulations on the recovery of the Heffernan, well done, join me later for lunch, I’m buying. But generally you only heard from Michael when there was a problem.
She poured herself a cup of coffee and switched on the newsnets. There were Abdul and his partners being welcomed at Union, handshakes and smiles all around. There, in the middle of her office, was the Heffernan, gray and black, its eagle markings illuminated by its rescuer’s navigation lights. It was a satisfying moment. There was more heat to come, of course, but she could tolerate that. What she wouldn’t have been able to handle was the knowledge someone had died because she hadn’t stood her ground.
“It’s hard to believe, Gordon,” said a female voice-over, “that the Heffernan was right here in the solar system and they never realized it.”
The solar system is a big place, lady.
“I suspect,” said Gordon, “there are some red faces over at the Academy. Which brings us to the near miss we had yesterday. How could they not notice a rock that big? Four kilometers long.” The asteroid appeared to Gordon’s right, rotating slowly. It was nickel-iron, he reported, a relic from the formation of the solar system. Billions of years old.
“Nickel-iron,” said the woman, “means it would have made a bigger splash when it hit than simply a rock asteroid.”
She switched over to Worldwide, which had climatologist Joachim Miller talking about the Antarctic ice pack. “It’s melting fast, and it could slide into the sea at any time,” he said. “If it does, look for the ocean levels around the world to rise a hundred-seventy feet.”
“A hundred-seventy feet?” asked the show’s moderator, visibly shocked. Hutch wondered whether they’d rehearsed. “That much?”
“If we’re lucky.”
“Over the next few centuries?”
“If it happened today, I’d say by Wednesday.”
IT WAS A pretty good argument for moving to Mars. Or establishing a colony somewhere. There was a lot of talk about doing just that, and in fact two colonies had been founded, one by political malcontents, the other by religious fanatics. Both were now on life support. It was just as well. The last thing the species needed was to provide a pristine world for lunatics, of whatever stripe. Do that, she suspected, and it would eventually come back to haunt us.
Even off-world habitats had not prospered. There were plans to construct two in the Earth-moon region, but the contractors had run short of funds, and promised subsidies had never materialized.
The asteroid had been named, prosaically, RM411. The Black Cat had tried to tag it the Armageddon Special, but their own consultants laughed at them, so they dropped the attempt after the first feeble efforts. “Legislative bodies around the world,” Detroit News Online was saying, “are promising investigations of how it could have happened. An unnamed source with the World Council said there’ll be a substantive review, and that they intend to determine who’s responsible.”
Science & Technology predicted that “somebody’s head will roll. Why are we giving the Academy all that money?”
It’s not our job, you idiot. Just because something is off-Earth doesn’t automatically make it our responsibility.
She switched over to Capitol News, which was interviewing Hiram Taylor. Live from the Senate building. He looked angry and righteous, and his black hair kept falling into his eyes. They were by heaven going to straighten things out. The American people deserved better than this. “It’s only by the grace of God that it missed us. No thanks to the people in place who are supposed to protect us from these things.” He didn’t name the Academy, presumably because he knew better. But he left it out there, knowing full well the conclusions his audience would draw.
Hutch wondered what the going rate was for a hit man. The Senate’s Science Advisory Committee, to which Taylor belonged, did not, of course, control funding for the Academy, but the House panel that decided such things would listen closely to what they said.
She called the commissioner. Not in yet. She went to Eric. “They’re blaming us,” she said.
“I know.” Eric threw up his hands. “I have a press conference scheduled later this morning. We’ve put out statements, I sent Ernie down to do an interview, and I’m taking a couple of the media guys out to lunch.” Ernie was Eric’s staff assistant.
The other newsnets were all taking a similar approach. They were questioning scientists around the globe. Burnhoffer of Heidelberg admitted he didn’t know who had been assigned the responsibility for the Earth-crossers, but that someone was clearly remiss. Burnhoffer had ridden the Academy’s ships to Procyon and Sirius and had briefly held the Odysseus trophy as the human being who had gone farthest from the sun. That had been presented after a mission to Canopus. (Those making the award considered only the senior person on the mission, and of course never the pilots.) She’d liked Burnhoffer, but here was an object lesson in keeping your mouth shut when you didn’t know what you were talking about.
It was pretty much the same with every politician and academic type in sight. The Academy was at fault.
Shortly after ten A.M., Asquith called her to his office. “I’m heading over to the Hill.”
“For the committee?”
“Yes.”
“The asteroid?”
“That. And probably the Heffernan.” He cleared his throat. “You’ve got the fort.” And before she could respond, he was gone.
SHE WATCHED ON Worldwide. There were about three hundred people present in the hearing room. Six senators were distributed around the table, backed by a phalanx of aides. Seated before them, looking supremely uncomfortable, was Asquith. She felt sorry for him. The secret of his success had always been that he knew just enough to get by, stayed out of confrontations, and made friends in the right places. He also had a talent for not getting singed when fires broke out. But not this time.
Opening remarks came from the committee chairman, Elizabeth Callan, expressing her gratitude for his taking time to come down and speak with them. Throughout her comments, Hiram Taylor smiled benignly while alternately scribbling notes and nodding to a staff aide.
The Green Party was currently in the majority, so the Academy was already in difficulty. The Republicans had no interest in attacking the interstellar program. It had been around a long time, so they were for it. But the Greens were a different matter. Money that could be put to good use at home was going into space.
Callan recognized Ames Abernathy, a Republican from Iowa, but one who thought scientific advance was dangerous. Abernathy started by noting the Academy’s many accomplishments over the years. He extended his congratulations to Asquith for “superb leadership.” “We’re all indebted to you and to the brave men and women who risk their lives out among the stars.” Et cetera. Finally, he got to business: “I assume, Dr. Asquith, this has been a difficult week at the Academy.”
“Not really, Senator. Actually, we’re doing well, thank you. We continue to push out into unknown systems. To explore — ”
“Yes, yes. Of course. But we know your time is valuable, so let’s go directly to the point. You lost one of your ships last week. For about three days.”
“That was actually closer to two days, Senator.”
“Yes, very good. I appreciate the correction. What we’d all like to know, and I think I can speak safely on this point for my colleagues, how could that ship, the Heffernan, have been right here in the solar system all that time, and your people not know about it? Doesn’t that suggest somebody’s not doing his job over at the Academy?”
“Not at all, Senator. You have to understand the solar system is a big place.”
“I think we’re all aware of the size of the solar system, Dr. Asquith. What we’re wondering, though, is how it’s possible to lose a starship in it for two days?”
“We didn’t exactly lose the ship.”
“You didn’t know where it was, did you?”
“No. Not precisely.”
“Not precisely. I seem to recall hearing ninety light-years bandied around. Would that be correct? Is that how far you thought it had traveled?”
“Yes. But there’s a reason for that.”
“I’m sure there is, Doctor. But in fact it was out around Pluto.”
“Actually it was considerably farther than Pluto — ”
“Be that as it may, Doctor, you had no idea where it was. Am I correct?”
“Yes, Senator. But there’s a reason — ”
“And I’m sure we’d all like to hear it. After all, it’s like looking on the other side of the Mississippi for something you misplaced in the cloakroom.”
It went on like that for a while, the others taking their turns pummeling the director. Eventually, Taylor got a chance. His first few questions were softballs, what sort of long-range plans did the Academy have, where should we go from here, and so on. But he couldn’t resist going after the organization, and eventually he zeroed in on the asteroid. “We never saw it coming, did we?”
“No, Senator. But you should be aware it’s not our responsibility — ”