Eventually, Valya also retired for the evening. Amy, left to herself, wandered over and asked what he was reading. It was Bleak Angel, by Wendy Moran. A classic from the previous century. Amy looked bored when she heard the title. Like most kids, she automatically ruled out anything older than she was. “It’s about things that get lost,” he said. “Things we care about.”
She nodded, smiled, excused herself, and headed for the bridge.
He wondered briefly if she could get into trouble up there, then dismissed the idea. Or tried to. She didn’t come back, and eventually he left Bleak Angel and brought up a proof copy of a first novel. The editor had sent it to him hoping he’d review it, or possibly find something kind to say about it. He paged through and quickly concluded the writer had talent but insufficient discipline. There were too many adjectives and adverbs. Plotting, characterization, conflict, everything worked, but you couldn’t get the guy to write a simple sentence.
When Amy came back, her eyes were shining. “I love being here,” she said.
IT FELT GOOD to climb into the bunk, turn out the lights, and slide down into the sheets. There was no sense whatever of movement. In the darkness, MacAllister could hear the murmur of power in the walls and the occasional whisper of a fan. Once, he heard bare feet in the corridor and, probably, the sound of a washroom door. He remembered nothing else before he awoke and looked at the time. It was almost seven o’clock.
He climbed into his robe and looked out into the corridor. The lights had come up, and the others were having breakfast.
Amy called out a hello, and he padded down to the common room. “Good morning,” he said.
Eric raised his orange juice, and Valya inquired whether he’d slept okay. “Sometimes the first night aboard can be difficult,” she said. Bill, the ship’s AI, asked what he’d like for breakfast.
He showered, dressed, and returned to a plate of pancakes and bacon.
AMY AND ERIC played a game that involved corporate empire building. Valya found things to do on the bridge. MacAllister went back to Bleak Angel for a while, but eventually put it down and joined her. She invited him to take the right-hand seat. “How’d you manage to get invited on Margie’s show?” he asked.
She smiled. “It was fun, wasn’t it?”
“You can be a tough cookie.”
“I’d been on a couple of their science programs before. I guess the arrangement whereby you showed up was more or less a last-minute thing — ”
“It was — ”
“So they called the first person they could think of. And I thought, holy cats, I get to go up against Gregory MacAllister himself.”
“That’s odd,” he said.
“What is?”
“I had the impression you had no idea who I was.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
She looked amused. “I guess you caught me. I looked you up before I went down there.”
“Oh.”
“You have a major-league reputation. The Insider Report described you as ‘not the biggest curmudgeon of the age, but among the top five.’”
“I thought you held up your end of things pretty well.”
“You were actually far more polite than I’d expected you to be.”
“I’m sorry I was a disappointment.”
She laughed. “Mac,” she said, “I doubt you’re capable of disappointing anybody.”
He understood she was trying to reel him in, but that was okay. He couldn’t resist being pleased with the compliment. “We’ll be leaving monitors at each site,” she said. “Would you be interested in taking a look at them?”
He could hardly have cared less what the monitors looked like, but she seemed interested in showing them off. “Sure,” he said.
“Good.” She seemed almost surprised at his answer. Had she expected him to grumble and pass? She got up and led the way to the rear. “We have eight units altogether. Four of them are secured outside to the hull. The others are in cargo.” They went down the zero-gee tube to the lower deck.
He was disappointed to see they were simply black boxes. Big ones, big enough to pack an armchair inside. But there was no sign of an antenna or a telescope.
“Everything pops up once it’s been activated,” she said. “They have sensors and a scope. And a collector, so it’ll continue to draw power from the sun as long as it’s on-station. And it has a hypercomm system.” MacAllister understood that meant it was capable of sending and receiving FTL transmissions. “We’ll be leaving one close to the Origins Project. There’s no sun there, so they’ve added a dark-energy unit. That one cost three times what the others did.”
“Do we think the moonriders are likely to show up near Origins?”
“They’ve been seen in the area.”
The casings were covered with spindles, brackets, jacks, and coils. She pointed at a slot. “This is the reader, where it gets its instructions.” She produced a chip.
“Does it have a thruster? Can it move on its own?”
“You mean, if it sees a moonrider, can it take off and follow it?”
“Yes.”
“No. Once we put it in orbit, it’ll stay there. It’ll report to us and to Mission Operations. After that, I guess if there’s any chasing to be done, we’d do it.”
LATER HE FOUND himself with Eric while Valya read and Amy grabbed a nap. “I’ll admit to you,” Eric said, “I was a bit nervous about this flight.”
“Why’s that?”
“First time off-world. It’s kind of scary.” He flashed a nervous smile. “I’ll tell you the truth, Mac: I haven’t been sleeping well the last few nights.”
This was not a guy you’d want on board if things went wrong. “I’d never have known.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you here under orders, Eric?”
“No.”
“Then why —?”
He looked past MacAllister as if he could see something in the distance. “You’re not going to believe this, but I haven’t done much with my life.”
MacAllister fought hard not to smile. Oh, yes. It was hard to believe.
Eric walked over to the viewport and looked out. The navigation lights were off. There was no point running them in hyperspace. But the illumination from the bridge reflected against the mists. “I have a brother and a sister who envy me. They see me live doing the press conferences. So in their eyes, I’m famous. And they think I make big money. And I suppose, in a way they’re right. I’m doing a lot better than most of the people I grew up with. Better than I ever expected. But the truth is I haven’t really ever accomplished anything.”
“You seem to be doing pretty well. You’re the face of the Academy.”
“Mac, you’re a famous man. Everybody knows you. Everybody knows Hutch. She’s the big hero at the Academy. People are always asking me about her. What’s she like in person? Has it all gone to her head? They want to know whether they can meet her. I have a nephew who was heartbroken when Hutch got married.” His eyes came back to MacAllister. “You know what it’s like to work with somebody like that?”
“It can’t be that bad. She seems okay.”
“It’s bad, believe me. I mean, nothing against her. It isn’t her fault. But I’d like to be able to say I’ve done something, too. To know I’ve done something.”
“You’re not married, Eric, are you?”
“No. How’d you know?”
“Just a feeling.”
He looked momentarily wistful. “It shows, huh?”
“Not really.” MacAllister smiled. “And that’s why you’re coming? To try to do something more with your life?”
“That’s why. You know, you’re lucky. You were part of the Deepsix rescue — ”
“I was one of the people who needed rescuing — ”
“It doesn’t matter. You were there.” He sighed. “I wish I’d been there.”
“You wouldn’t have enjoyed it.”
“Maybe not. But it would have been nice to be able to tell that story. Anyhow, now at least I’ll have something.”
MACALLISTER HAD PROMISED himself he would actually convert the flight into a vacation. Catch up on his reading, relax, watch some shows. And, of course, take in the sights. But by noon on the second day he was already thinking about future stories for The National. A new challenge to institutional marriage had risen: Men and women were getting involved in virtual affairs with avatars who represented their spouses at a younger age. Was it infidelity to spend a romantic evening with your wife as she had looked and behaved at twenty-two?
Then there was the Origins Project. Major breakthroughs coming. “Mac,” said Valya, “did you know it’s not fully operational yet?”
“It won’t be for years, apparently,” he said.
“I don’t know whether you actually want to stop at Origins or not. They’re not expecting us. We should probably just put our monitor over the side and keep going.”
“That might not be a bad idea. It’s nothing more than a giant physics lab.” He shook his head. “Never could stand physics.”
They’d caught Amy’s ear. “Valya,” she said, “Origins is the most exciting place on the flight. Let’s stop and take a look. Please.”
The space agencies have done what they can to sweep moonrider reports under the table. Various astrophysical phenomena have been advanced to explain the sightings. But lights moving in formation and throwing sharp turns do not lend themselves to credible natural explanations. Last week’s reports from the Serenity orbiter are especially startling, because the observers were not only ordinary travelers but also included a group of physicists.
If in fact there is even a reasonable possibility that we are being observed by alien intelligences, then the current notion that we should disband the interstellar program is both shortsighted and dangerous.
— The London Observer, Thursday, April 2
chapter 18
61 Cygni is a binary system located approximately eleven light-years from Earth. It is in the constellation Cygnus, the Swan. Both stars are visible in the terrestrial sky, but they are quite dim. They orbit each other at a range between 50 and 120 AUs. (The distance to Pluto is about 40 AUs.)