*
While they were out of threading, he tried to transmit to Mars, focusing on one of the relay sats. He also tried Earth, via a different relay sat; then he tried beaming to Earth direct. He received no response, though he did pick up a hashy commercial broadcast. Charlie noted that it was likely that their antenna had gotten degraded from the high-speed threading. Chances were, no one could receive their signal anymore. Still, that wasn’t going to stop him from trying. For an hour, he transmitted a recorded message over and over, stating his position and progress, in the faint hope that he might be heard.
Eventually he gave up and strained to listen to the commercial broadcast. After a few minutes, he realized that he was picking up the BBC Interplanetary News Service. He listened eagerly for word about himself—or the comet.
He made out something about renewed political instability in the Middle East, and a threatened breakaway of New Brazil from the Union of American States, and continued secessionist agitation in L5 City. Holo star Jason Landru was dead at ninety-five . . . and a new, unusually eruptive comet had been spotted coming around the sun in a highly eccentric orbit, one that would fling it out in a very close approach to the Earth. “. . . Speculation that it might have had . . . unreflective surface before its solar . . . not seen until . . . ices volatilized . . . no hazard, but if this one brightens . . . comet of the century. Get out your cam-goggles . . .”
/// Is Napoleon back in yet? ///
/SHUT UP, Charlie—I want to hear this!/
/// Sorry . . . ///
At that point, the news cut to a long interview with a politician from New Brazil. Bandicut listened impatiently, and finally gave in to the urgent twitchings of the quarx and turned his attention to the robot’s progress. Napoleon was back in the airlock, and there seemed no excuse not to press on. Still, Bandicut lingered over the staticky broadcast.
/// John . . . it’s time. ///
Sighing, he reached out to turn off the comm. As his hand touched the panel, he heard the interview end, and one last, scratchy news item: “. . . word from Neptune’s moon Triton . . . discovery of an intact alien artifact, still active with an unknown energy source. Exoarchaeologists disagreed on the significance . . . whether this could have any connection with the Neptune Explorer, stolen from Triton . . . rumors that . . . predicted the appearance of the comet have been denied by officials of MINEXFO . . . also denied reports of a later . . . predicting a flash of light in Uranian-Neptunian space. Other sources differed . . . flash identical to the effect when Neptune Exlorer vanished . . . believe . . .”
There was a loud hiss of static, and when the broadcast became audible again, it was in the middle of a soft drink commercial.
“They’re trying to keep people from believing me,” Bandicut muttered under his breath. “I can’t believe it! They’d rather sit on the truth than admit it. I’ll bet they’re afraid they’ll lose control over the translator. But they found it! Do you think it was Julie?”
/// I . . . put in a good word for her.
That’s all I can . . .
John, I’m . . . ///
/What?/ Bandicut whispered.
/// I think . . . John . . . I’m dying.
I’m sorry.
Can we go now? ///
Bandicut blinked, stared, and hit the fusion igniter. He waited for gravity to return, pressing his aching body back into the seat, before he tried to speak again. He wanted to ask Charlie if that was just a figure of speech he had used, about dying—if he had just meant that he was very, very tired. But somehow Bandicut knew the answer even before he asked. He had feared that it was coming, but prayed that it was not. Charlie, don’t! he thought. You shouldn’t have sacrificed yourself to put me back together! But you did, didn’t you?
Dear God, he didn’t want to die alone.
Chapter 30
Comet
/YOU STILL THERE?/ he asked, as he watched the numbers flicker endlessly on the nav.
/// Still here. ///
/You okay?/
/// No. ///
/Want to tell me about it?/
/// I think . . . no. ///
Bandicut felt a pain in his left side. /Don’t try to fix that,/ he snapped. He felt a sudden burst of unreasoning anger. /You’re just going to leave me, then? Get me into this, then check out before the closing act?/
/// It is my intention . . . ///
the quarx gasped,
/// . . . if possible . . .
to stay till the very end. ///
Bandicut grunted, vaguely reassured. He didn’t know how he would manage the final plunge if Charlie were gone. For that matter, suppose they actually survived this crazy dive across space—what then? Wherever he would be, he sure as hell didn’t want to be without Charlie. /If you don’t make it, Charlie, will you be . . . reborn again?/
/// Maybe.
How the hell should I know?
I don’t suppose even quarx . . . go on forever. ///
Bandicut opened his mouth, stunned by the quarx’s anger. Maybe Charlie really was fearful that he’d miss the end of this drama that he had set into motion.
/// Don’t worry . . .
the translator-stone . . . knows what to do.
You can do fine without me.
Just hit . . . the blasted comet. ///
The thought sent shudders down his spine. /I don’t want to do it without you,/ he whispered. /You might be a pain in the ass, Charlie—but you’re all I’ve got now./
Charlie didn’t answer—then, or for many hours afterward.
Neptune Crossing Page 72