“Do you think you could come in next week? Talk about your life in the space program?”
“Sure. Tuesday okay?”
“Good. Let’s go with it.” She did not sound happy.
• • •
Hutch’s telomerase treatment, which kept her aging process inactive, was scheduled to happen in two months. It consisted of a single IV therapy given at ten-year intervals. It was a viral vector that delivered a plasmid to specific cells, directing them to reset telomere length, so that molecules were repaired and recycled at the same rate as in young cells. The process took thirty minutes.
It didn’t make her immortal. There were biological parts that eventually would break down regardless of treatment. But in the meantime, life was good.
It was a routine she didn’t want to play around with. She called her doctor’s office. Annie, the desk clerk, answered. “Any problem,” Hutch asked her, “if I miss a treatment by a few months? I’m going to be out of town for a while.”
“Probably be best if you come in before you leave. We can fit you in Monday morning if you like.”
“Good. Thanks, Annie.”
“We’re happy to help, Ms. Hutchins. But please be careful out there.”
Hutch paused. “How’d you find out?”
“About the Calliope? It was on The Morning Show.”
She settled in to watch Zero Sum, a comedy about a pair of physicists who are out of touch with the everyday world. Halfway through it, she got a call, but it was from Tom Axler. Tom was an occasional boyfriend, a police officer she’d met while singing in the church choir.
“Are you ever going to start living a normal existence?” he asked.
“I guess not for a few weeks, anyhow, Tom.” He was a good guy, and she’d enjoyed the evenings they’d had together. But she still couldn’t let go of Tor. His death, caused by a heart issue that they’d had no idea even existed, had blown a substantial hole in her life.
“I think it’s a fight you’re going to lose. Maybe when the election’s over, things will change.”
“Maybe.”
They fell silent for a few moments. “You ever think about becoming a talk show host yourself? You’re good at it. And you wouldn’t have to keep running off somewhere every few months.”
“I think long-term it would get boring.”
“Not like sitting for weeks in an oversized tin can.” He took a deep breath. “Can I take you to lunch tomorrow?”
A few minutes later, Blanchard called. “I’m sorry your name got out, Priscilla. I don’t know how that happened. As far as I can tell, nobody here said anything.”
“It may not have been one of your people, Derek. I haven’t exactly sat on the story.”
“Be careful what you say to the media.”
“I will.” She asked herself whether she really wanted to do this. And knew that was a joke. There’d never been any question in her mind. “When can I get a look at the Eiferman?”
NEWSDESK
Thursday, February 14, 2256
STACKHOUSE DECLARES CANDIDACY
First Transgender Presidential Candidate of Major Party Joins Race
MYERS GUILTY ON ALL COUNTS
Ontario Governor Faces Thirty Years on Corruption Charges
TIDAL WAVE HITS SOUTH GEORGIA, CAROLINAS
Offshore Earthquake Causes 90-Foot Strike
Despite Evacuation and Early Warnings, Hundreds Believed Lost
Seismologists Had Been Predicting Event for Decades
HAUBRICH WINS BAKER AWARD
Walking on Air Named Best Novel
ALAN BANNER LEADS EARLY POLLING FOR INDEPENDENTS
NANCY MOUNT BILL PASSES IN HOUSE
Proposes “None of the Above” Be Added to Ballot
Thirty Percent of the Votes Would Trigger New Election
HIGH SCHOOL IN MEDUA ATTACKED BY TEEN GUNMAN
Attacker Was Quiet, No Record, No Previous Incidents
Four Dead, 13 Injured
RESEARCH INTO PROVIDING HIGH IQ FOR INFANTS COMES UNDER ATTACK
Experts Claim IQ Set Naturally at Optimal Point for Psychological Health
Providing 200-plus Intelligence Level Might Cause Emotional Damage
Darwin Again? Does Ultra-High IQ Handicap Survival?
SCOUT TROOP RESCUES HIKERS AFTER LANDSLIDE
Twenty People Swept Away in Missouri Avalanche
Two Still Missing as Search Continues
PRISCILLA HUTCHINS TO PILOT CALLIOPE MISSION
Flight Hopes to Resolve Waterfall Issue
STUDY REVEALS HEALTH BENEFITS FROM BUDDHISM
Serious Benefits Derive from Serenity
BIRTH DEFECTS REACH ALL-TIME LOW
Statistics for 2255: Only 1 Child in 925 Shows Abnormal Condition
CONCERNS ABOUT CALLIOPE FLIGHT RISING
High-Tech Aliens Might Be Dangerous
JACK CRISPEE LEAVES BLACK CAT
Didn’t See This Coming, Says Network
“We Wish Him All the Best”
4.
Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,
Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness,
So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another,
Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.
—Henry W. Longfellow, Tales of a Wayside Inn, 1863
Charlie was getting ready to leave for school when his mom came downstairs. “I see you’re taking some heat already,” he said.
“Heat about what, Charlie?”
“Going out with the Eiferman.”
“Oh.” No surprise there. It was perfect fodder for the talk shows. “What are they saying?”
“Jessie Hoffman was on The Morning Show today.” Hoffman was the National Security Advisor. “He thinks you have a moral obligation to back off.”
• • •
She stopped by Dr. Gordon’s office and got her treatment. Then she headed for a lunch date with Tom Axler. In this difficult time he was exactly what she needed. His gift to Hutch was that he didn’t live in the stars, the way every other male did with whom she’d had any kind of romantic entanglement. Tom was strictly two feet on the ground. He worried that football had effectively disappeared, that comedians weren’t as funny as they used to be, that the initiative to revalue the dollar again was going to create havoc, that people needed to stop thinking of their house AIs as conscious entities, and that churches no longer had the support they did when he was a kid.
He knew that Hutch was uncertain whether God actually existed. She’d told him that the universe was so big that it just seemed impossible that a single functioning deity could have set it all up. But she admitted that she didn’t want to let go of the idea. Her mother was a believer, had taken her to church every Sunday. And the reality was that the size of the cosmos also worked against any effort to deny His existence. It was a lonely place. Hutch knew that traveling among those distant stars was much more comfortable when you could focus on the possibility that someone out there knew about you and cared. It explained why she’d eventually joined a church choral group.
She got to Larry’s Diner first, took a seat, and ordered a glass of apple juice. It wasn’t quite noon yet, but the place was already beginning to fill. Tom walked in the door just as the juice arrived. He lit up when he saw her. It was one of the qualities about him that she especially liked. He enjoyed being with her, and he showed it without, unlike most guys, putting it on display. With him, it was somehow more real than simply a transparent way of trying to win her affection.
“You getting ready for the big trip?” he asked. Tom was just over six feet, with brown eyes that invariably showed where his mind was. Except probably, she suspected, when he was in uniform. He looked sometimes like a guy who would brook no nonsense and, at other times, who understood that the world was strictly for laughs.
“I’m trying to decide which shoes to take.”
He looked at her unce
rtainly. “You know, when you’re gone, which seems to be most of the time, I can’t resist driving by your house and thinking how empty it looks.”
“It’s good to know the police are watching the place.”
The waitress showed up, brought coffee for Tom, and took their orders.
“Hutch, you think maybe we could get out tonight? Have dinner and go to a show?”
“I’d like to, Tom. But I’m doing a speaking engagement at the Patriot Club. I’m free Saturday night.”
Dismay clouded his eyes. “That won’t work. I’m starting a shift Saturday.”
“Evenings?”
“Yes. Unfortunately.” He put his elbows on the table, clasped his hands together, and set his chin on them. “Well, it was nice having you around for a while. Long enough to have a couple of lunches.”
“Come on, Tom, I’ve been back for a few months.”
He laughed. “Yeah. Don’t know how we could beat that. Maybe next week?”
“Things might get crowded by then. Let’s play it by ear.”
“Okay. You ever going to retire?”
“Eventually, I guess. The way things are going, I may not have much choice.” Actually, she’d been thinking about it. Her life wasn’t going the way she’d wanted. The passion for star flight was still there, still consumed her, but it had been largely a series of disappointments, empty worlds, occasionally planets with beaches whose only sounds emerged from incoming tides. The highlights of her career had been, with only a couple of exceptions, clusters of crumbling buildings from long-dead civilizations.
She’d missed a lot of time with her kids. Her mom had filled in, but Maureen and Charlie had spent as much time in Cherry Hill as in Virginia. Now they were getting ready to move on, and if she continued along this road, she’d miss the next round too.
So yes, maybe she should settle down. But she didn’t want to tell Tom that. Didn’t want to say anything that would encourage him. She doubted they had a future together. She liked him, but the chemistry simply wasn’t there. “I can’t imagine life without the interstellars,” she said. The remark wasn’t complete before she knew how dumb it sounded. But he just looked at her, nodded patiently, and smiled as if that was precisely what he expected and he was prepared to live with it.
Their lunches came. Tom liked red meat, steaks preferably. Hutch tended to stay with fruit and veggies and sometimes grilled chicken, which of course in that era, like the steaks, wasn’t a product taken from live animals. Where health was concerned, it didn’t really make much difference what anyone ate. Just don’t eat too much.
“I don’t suppose,” Tom said, “that you could arrange for me to go with you?”
“I doubt they’d allow that, Tom.” Then she saw he was kidding.
“Yeah, I’d probably have a problem making my rounds.”
The conversation lightened. They talked about movies and TV shows. Tom told her about a couple of arrests he’d made. One guy had gotten upset about a restaurant bill and thrown a tantrum, as well as a dish of broccoli and potatoes across the room. “He did this while Angie and I were sitting at one of the tables.” Angie was his partner.
“Another guy got angry with his girlfriend and started breaking shop windows. We were parked across the street.”
“I never thought of policing,” said Hutch, “as a comical job.” Her commlink vibrated. It was Blanchard. “Let me take this, Tom. Just be a second.” She leaned down toward it. “Yes, Derek.”
“Hi, Priscilla. Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“I’m at lunch with a friend. Is everything okay?”
“I hope so. The project is getting more media attention than we’d like. There are a lot of people out there who are trying hard to shut us down. The media will probably want to talk to you. We just need you to be careful what you say. Okay?”
They got back to talking about some of the silly things people do while committing crimes, like waving at security cameras, leaving fingerprints on a counter at the bank, calling each other by names that allow detectives to trace them. “By the way,” Tom said, “I don’t know if I told you. I’m being promoted to detective.” A wave of false humility brightened his eyes.
Hutch got up, walked around the table, and kissed him. “Congratulations. I suspect you’ll be a natural.” Her commlink vibrated again. She checked it as she returned to her seat.
“More starship people?” Tom asked.
“No. WCSM.”
“Well, there’s another interview for you.”
She hesitated and decided finally not to answer. Minutes later there was another call, from the Arlington Courant. She shut it off.
“You know,” said Tom, “they’ll be waiting for you when you get home.”
“Yeah. Probably.”
“You can hide out at my place if you want.”
She trusted him implicitly, but it still wasn’t a good idea. “They’ll catch up with me eventually.”
• • •
Spring was still a few weeks away. But the Woodbridge area seldom got cold that time of year. Nevertheless, on that day, despite plenty of sunlight and only a scattering of clouds, it was frigid. A cluster of cars and vans was waiting when the car pulled up at her house. She tugged her jacket around her and opened the door. Reporters crowded around, taking pictures and asking questions. “What do you think is out there, Priscilla?”
“How do you feel about this flight? Is it scary?”
“Are you worried?”
“You guys have any idea what that waterfall is all about?”
“How can you be sure they won’t follow you home?”
That one needed a reply. She wished she had one. “As far as we know, you can’t track anything in transdimensional space. It’s not possible.”
“ ‘As far as we know.’ ”
“That’s correct.” Hutch raised her left hand, trying to suppress the noise. Finally, they grew quiet. “Thank you. Look, guys, I’m just a pilot. But for what it’s worth, we’ve spent the last hundred years traveling all over the Orion Arm. And we’ve been to the center of the galaxy. We have yet to find anybody anywhere who constitutes a threat to us. The only issue we’ve had was with the omega clouds, and that had nothing whatever to do with our missions.”
A man with an ID indicating he was from CBS put up his hand. “But that’s all past history, Priscilla. This is the first time we’ve seen something that we think is a high-tech civilization. And there are millions of places we haven’t been to.”
Hutch wanted to point out that there are never any guarantees, but she knew that would be the segment that would be on every news show an hour later. “That’s all I’ve got,” she said. “Listen, I have to go.”
She tried to push through the crowd, but more questions came.
“If it were your call, Priscilla, would you send this mission out?”
“What do you think about the president’s comment?”
She had no idea what the president had said, but it didn’t sound good.
“How about Dale Foxworth?” Dale was a retired pilot. “He says going out there looking for inhabited worlds is crazy.”
“What do you think, Priscilla?”
“Above my pay grade, guys. But you want my gut instincts?” The microphones moved closer. “We’ll arrive at Calliope, the lights will have gone out, and that’ll be the end of the show. In the long run, we’ll be safer if we look around. If there are any threats out there, better we find them than the reverse.”
“Why will the lights have gone out?”
“Because, whatever they are, we saw what that area looked like seven thousand years ago. Somebody, by this time, will have shut down the TV station.”
Okay. So it was a joke and they got it. Cosmic wanted to know if she had anything serious to add. “There’s just not enough data right now,” she said. “But there’s certainly nothing that should alarm anyone.” She got to her front door and was about to turn back to the reporters, w
ave, and ask them to “wish us luck.” But she’d been around too long to make that mistake. “Hope you got what you need,” she said. “Take care.”
• • •
An hour later she got a surprise: Jack Crispee called.
“Hello, Jack,” she said. “I see you left the Black Cat. Where are you headed now?”
“That wasn’t voluntary, Priscilla.” He was seated on a sofa, with a couple of cushions behind him. “They terminated me.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. That’s not exactly the way it was reported.”
“The Cat was being polite.”
“I hope it wasn’t connected with my interview.”
“They didn’t want to go into details. They just said that I’d run my course.”
“You had pretty good ratings.”
“That was another world. But you’ve got this interstellar thing exactly right, Priscilla. Don’t change your mind.”
“Sorry, Jack. I should have kept my mouth shut.”
“You’re not listening to me. We did exactly what needed to be done.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“I’m doing an interview with Cosmic Monday. They sound interested.”
“Good luck, Jack. Let me know if I can be of any help.” She stopped and laughed. “Well, maybe that wouldn’t be a good idea.”
• • •
President Emma Proctor, beginning the final year of what she hoped would be her first term, had lost none of the charm and credibility that had carried her into the White House. She sat in her chair in the Oval Office, which was now projected into Hutch’s living room, and looked directly into her eyes. “We can’t continue,” she said, “with the WSA and even private entrepreneurs sending vehicles out to unknown territories. They like to pretend that we’ve visited the vast majority of stars in this section of the Orion Arm. That, of course, is nonsense. There are millions of stars out there, and at the moment, anyone with a ship is free to go take a look. And maybe bring back a disease, a horde of toxic aliens, or perhaps some other lethal surprises.”
She took a deep breath but kept her focus on her viewers. “Letting the Academy go under was a serious mistake. It’s true it wasn’t a government operation, but it provided a degree of control that we no longer have. There’s no serious need to worry about the several interstellar corporations. Their enterprises have always been aimed at developing revenues. And that derives from transportation of tourists or colonists. There’s no risk there. They aren’t going anywhere we haven’t been to before. The sole area of concern is exploration.
The Long Sunset Page 4