“I hope I haven’t gotten you into any trouble. But we had to get it out.”
“It’s okay. Looks like a good cause. I’m glad to have helped. Sorry I didn’t get it out sooner.”
“Mom, I owe you. Can I take you to dinner tonight?”
• • •
She’d just passed under the beltway when Jack called again. “It’s running,” he said. “We broke in on the Alison MacPherson Show. That’s the good news.”
“What’s the bad news?”
“The NSB is here.” The National Security Bureau. “They’re down now trying to get into Branton’s office.” Hutch didn’t recognize the name, but the message was clear enough.
She set the car radio for Cosmic and listened to Arin describing his reaction when he’d gone out and looked at the black hole. “It was terrifying,” he was saying, while his voice trembled. Kwylla talked about her appreciation to the humans who had offered to help. “We will always be in your debt, Hutch. You and your friends have been priceless.”
“How did you feel about Utopia?” Hutch asked.
“It scares me,” she said, “that we have to leave our home. The world you took us to is beautiful, but I wish we could stay where we are.”
“But,” said Arin, “we are thankful there is a place we can retreat to. I hope we can make it happen, but whether we do or not, that we can one day show our gratitude for everything you’ve done.”
The car continued along the interstate. Finally, it turned off onto Capitol Drive, passed the Agriculture Department, made a left onto Merriweather Street, and pulled into the Cosmic parking lot. There was, fortunately, no sign of law enforcement activity, no official vehicles or blinking lights. And there seemed nothing unusual going on as she went through the front door into the lobby. A young woman sat behind a counter. “Can I help you, ma’am?” she asked.
“My name’s Priscilla Hutchins. I’m looking for Jack Crispee.”
“Oh, yes, Ms. Hutchins. He told me you were coming. Hold one second. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
Fixed high on the wall behind her, a large screen was running the current Cosmic program. Except that it wasn’t her conversation with the Volarians. MacPherson was back on, talking with Carson Bennett, the NAU Secretary of State. “Excuse me,” she said, “what is that?”
She looked up at it. “That’s odd. It’s Alison MacPherson. They were running the alien interview a few minutes ago. Some strange stuff going on today. I thought—” Her eyes widened. “You’re the woman who was conducting the interview.”
“Yes.”
“It was an incredible—” Her commlink sounded. “Hold on.” She picked it up, listened a moment, said “Okay,” and held it out for Hutch. “Mr. Crispee.”
She took it. “Priscilla?”
“Yes.”
“The Feds shut us down.”
“No.”
“I’m sorry. There was nothing we could do.”
“What happened to freedom of the press?”
“The material’s classified. Did you know that?”
“That’s crazy. How much of the broadcast went out?”
“About eighteen minutes.”
Four people came out of an elevator into the lobby. One, a short, stocky guy, looked stressed. The other three, two men and a woman, strode toward the front doors, leaving him in their wake. Then one of them noticed Hutch. They all turned in her direction and approached. “Pardon me, ma’am,” said the woman, “but aren’t you Priscilla Hutchins?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Incredible.” She walked away.
• • •
Crispee arrived, looking pale and angry. “Jack,” she said, “you want to do an interview about this?”
“I’d love to, Priscilla. But there’s no way Branton would allow it.”
“Come on, Jack. This is First Amendment territory.”
“I know. But they’ve made some serious threats. I think he figures we’ve already broken the story.”
Jack Crispee’s Diary
Of all the idiot stuff I’ve been part of, this beats everything. It was an act of pure cowardice I’ll always regret. We’ve just given the story of the century to everybody else.
—Friday, October 10, 2256
43.
The liberty of the press consists, in my idea, in publishing the truth, from good motives and for justifiable ends, though it reflect on the government, on magistrates, or individuals.
—Alexander Hamilton, New York speech, 1804
Ornsbee’s was her mom’s favorite restaurant, a friendly place with a good menu. They got a table that provided a good view of the Phillies–Red Sox game. It was the World Series, game five, tied at two apiece. Mom was still somewhat rattled from the visit by the Feds. “I’ve never had any kind of experience like that,” she said. But she tried to show her daughter that she wasn’t worried about fallout from her role in relaying her transmission to Cosmic Broadcasting. But there was a tightness in her smile and her voice.
“I’m sorry about getting you into all this, Mom,” Hutch said. “But we needed to make sure the interview got released, and you were the most reliable person I had. There was just too much at stake—”
“I understand that, Priscilla. Please don’t worry about it. In fact, I’m proud you included me in this.” Mom leaned forward and looked into Hutch’s eyes. “How are you, love?” she asked. “Are they going to prosecute you?”
Hutch managed a smile. “I’ll let you know. But I don’t think so.”
“I was sorry to see what happened to the broadcast. That it got interrupted.”
“So was I.”
“I guess you know it’s all over the news.”
She had been listening to reports during her ride up from DC. “They’re getting a lot of criticism. The government.”
“It’s gone viral on the Web.” The game was in the first inning, and the visiting Red Sox already had two runners on with none out. “It’s nice to have you back.” She reached across the table for her wrist.
“Next time we go anywhere,” Hutch said, “I’ll arrange for you to come along.”
“That would be good. Miami would be nice.” Her mom took a deep breath. “I love you, Priscilla.” It wasn’t the first time she’d said that, of course, but there was more emotion than Hutch usually picked up.
They brought their menus up on the display and ordered dinner. Both got the special, barbecued pork. Then: “So, tell me about the flight. What was the waterfall all about? Did that have anything to do with the aliens you interviewed?” She kept her voice down.
Hutch explained about Calliope and the ice world and Tarka and, when opportunity presented itself, asked what her mom had been up to.
She got a surprise. “I’m on the school board.”
“Really?”
“I’m thinking about running for governor.”
“You’re kidding, Mom. I’ve never thought of you as a politician.”
“Well, I’m your mother and you’re becoming better known every day. You may not have noticed, but you’ve been drawing attention since we walked in the door. I figure I might as well take advantage of it.”
“Well, good luck, Mom.” She’d always thought her mother could have had a decent political career. She was likable and she never forgot anyone’s name. More than that, nobody could have bought her support. “I guess I’ve had a good run,” Hutch continued. “If you can—” She stopped dead. Ornsbee’s had gone silent, except for a woman’s voice. “—your reaction,” she was saying, “when we first told you?” The World Series had vanished from the display, replaced, incredibly, by her own image. Hutch was listening to her own voice.
Then Kwylla was onscreen, her eyes large and dark and impossibly sad. It was a clip from the eighteen minutes. “We could not believe it. We refused to believe it. Except that it was you and your friends who were saying this to us.”
Somebody behind her said, “It’s the alien. The show they cut o
ff.”
“I know.”
The picture froze and Matt Ornsbee took a moment to speak to his customers: “We thought you’d want to see this. It’ll run for a little more than ten minutes. We’re saving the game, so don’t worry; you won’t miss anything.”
Then all three of them, Kwylla and Arin and herself, were back onscreen. Hutch was speaking: “—long time before it will arrive.”
A woman at a nearby table: “They’re really cute. Look at their eyes.”
And the guy she was with: “Why do you think they shut it down, Lorrie?”
“I don’t know.”
“We can’t do anything, anyhow. You can’t stop a black hole.”
“What’s that got to do with blocking the TV?”
Most of the diners were listening to Arin: “Kwylla and I will probably be gone before it happens. But the lives of our children will be cut short. And their children.” Suddenly, they were looking at the beach filled with Volarians. It was one of the clips Hutch had inserted. “I must confess to you, Hutch, that my faith in Alora was shaken by this. Until you informed us there was a chance that you and your people might be able to step in. I was reminded that I should not be so quick to give up.”
Hutch saw the diners reaching toward one another, whispering, shaking their heads, finishing their drinks. A guy in a nearby booth was saying how you couldn’t trust the government.
The eighteen minutes played out. A few people grumbled about losing the Series. Near the end, Arin described his gratitude to their visitors, and how he prayed they really could help, and at that moment, the program ended. Some people were reaching for their handkerchiefs.
• • •
One of the diners recognized Hutch and came to the table to thank her for what she’d done. He was quickly joined by a swarm of others, asking to shake her hand and showing their approval. One complained that she might have done it, though, after the World Series was over.
NEWSDESK
Saturday–Tuesday, October 11–14, 2256
NSB CLAIMS TECH FAILURE CAUSED FILM SHUTDOWN
ALIENS LOOK LIKE DOLPHINS
ALIENS CAPTIVE AT UNION SPACE STATION
WSA: Isolated as Precaution
BLACK HOLE EXPECTED TO CRUSH DOLPHIN WORLD IN SIXTY YEARS
Connected to Waterfall Transmission Acquired by Van Entel
PRESIDENT PROCTOR: ALIENS ARE BEING TAKEN CARE OF
ONE OF THE ALIENS IS A PREACHER
Represents Monotheistic Religion
DOLPHINS RESCUED STARSHIP CREW AFTER CRASH
Hutchins: “They’re the Reason We’re Here”
WSA DIRECTOR STEPS DOWN
Zhang Chao Resigns
Denies Connection to Volarian Controversy
44.
The strongest, most generous, and proudest of all virtues is true courage.
—Michel de Montaigne, Essays, III, 1588
The world changed during the following few weeks. Kwylla and Arin were released with a report that they posed no threat to the general population. They became immensely popular guests on the morning talk shows, with late-night comedians, and on major news programs. Kwylla even showed up playing herself on the domestic comedy Touch and Go.
President Proctor met with world leaders and issued a statement that a fleet of thirty interstellars equipped with the Locarno drive would be constructed and sent on their way as soon as possible to begin Project Exodus, which would carry the Volarians to their new home. In addition, she announced that a WSA team would be dispatched to determine whether the derelict transport vehicle adrift near the ice world could be brought into the effort. All five members of the Eiferman team also appeared across TV, but none sparked viewer enthusiasm like the two Volarians.
Jack Crispee left Cosmic without giving a reason and turned up a few days later on the BBC, hosting The Truth Forum. He wasted no time inviting Priscilla back.
There was no indication that her mother’s experience with the Feds would result in any consequences.
• • •
The lights brightened and Jack Crispee looked completely relaxed, as he usually did on the air, except that he was behind a table instead of seated in the lush armchair he’d used at Cosmic. The Nantucket living room which had been his hallmark was also missing, replaced by a standard studio. The door was marked by the letters BBC, his new employer. “Hello, Priscilla,” he said. “Welcome to The Truth Forum.
She was seated on the other side of the table. “It’s good to be here, Jack. Thanks for the invitation.”
“Was that mission your longest ever?”
“No,” she said. “But it was the most unnerving. And also the most rewarding.”
“You’re talking about the Volarians?”
“Yes. We were lucky they were there, or we wouldn’t have made it home.”
“I wanted to thank you for arranging their appearance on the show. I thought Zhang Chao would have a heart attack when we contacted him.”
“It was easy, Jack. He wanted to cooperate as best he could.”
“You must have been happy to see President Proctor withdraw her support for the Centauri Initiative. She took a lot of criticism for that.”
“Only from the idiots who argue that once you form an opinion, you’re not allowed to change your mind. You’ve noticed she’s gone way up in the polls.”
“Oh yes. She’s a lock for a second term. You’re not suggesting she did it because of the reaction to your two alien friends?”
“I think she realized what was the right thing to do, Jack. And she did it. Whether the election might have prompted her change in perspective, you’ll have to ask her. By the way, I thought inviting Kwylla and Arin to appear in person here was a great idea.”
He broke into a prolonged laughter. “It wasn’t bad. Everybody was after them. The week they were on gave us the biggest audience on record ever for a news show. In fact, for any show. Everybody loves them. On another subject: They sent your alien buddies back to Volaria on the Excelsior. With Ken and Beth Squires. What will they be doing?”
“Well, Kwylla and Arin were anxious to get home. They needed to deliver the good news and start getting everybody ready for Exodus. Ken and Beth went along primarily because they were so good at picking up the languages, both on Volaria and Tarka, which is where the other alien race lives. Those are the people who are going to help get the new world ready.”
“You call them ‘people.’ I’ve seen pictures of the creatures on Tarka. You can probably get away with referring to the Volarians as people, but—”
“Jack, I think we’re still a little behind on the learning curve. Appearance doesn’t matter. Intelligence does. And empathy.”
“Excellent, Priscilla. Though I have to admit that a year ago, I would never have believed this could happen. By the way, what specifically will the Tarkans be doing?”
“They’ve offered to help. And we need them.”
“To construct towns?”
“And supply food. And do a lot of other stuff.”
“Okay.” He smiled. “Good enough. I was surprised when Kwylla told me they hated to leave Washington. That they were planning on coming back when they could.”
“What can I tell you, Jack? They’ve been enjoying themselves here. Arin told me he loved being a celebrity. Which was good. We needed people to see who they were.”
Nobody was enjoying the public attention as much as Wally, who’d spent two months as a guest on every science panel and now had his own show with PBS. Derek, of course, would be traveling to DC in two weeks to receive the Freedom Prize from President Proctor.
Jack leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Can you tell me why Zhang Chao resigned?”
He’d been forced out, but Hutch didn’t want to say that. She hadn’t been particularly impressed with the WSA director, but he’d been a decent guy caught in the middle of an impossible situation. “There was a lot of pressure over this. First aliens arriving, and they showed up wi
th only a few days’ notice. I think he just wanted to get away from the bureaucracy and go back to the Taibai Observatory for a while.”
“That’s in China, I assume?”
“Qinling Mountains.”
“Okay. Makes sense. How about you? You going to help evacuate the Volarians?”
“It’ll take about a year to get the project moving. But I expect to be on the first wave of interstellars.”
“Beautiful. Could you arrange to take me with you?”
“Sure, Jack. Bring a good book.”
He was obviously enjoying himself. “One more thing I heard about the Calliope flight. I understand you found out something else.”
“What was that?”
The lights flickered, and suddenly they were on Iapetus. Hutch sat facing her host, but when they both turned and looked toward the place where the control room had been, the Iapetus angel looked back. The eyes that actually gazed out at the rings reflected something more than she’d noticed before. Maybe something other than the sense that the universe was a cold and uncaring place. Her eyes suggested an understanding that we are all in it together.
They were sisters.
“Hello, Sola,” she said.
Epilogue
Wednesday, March 11, 2257
Governor Rankin escorted her guests into the town hall, past the overflow Volarians lining the street. The group consisted of the interstellar pilot, Clay Clairveau, and Beth and Ken Squires. They followed her through the center of the auditorium and up onto the stage, where they joined Kwylla and Arin, who were already seated.
The governor took her place behind the lectern and switched on the microphone. “Friends and neighbors,” she said, “there’s no one in the building who isn’t aware why this place is full tonight. We’ve all lived under a heavy cloud these last few months. Kwylla and Arin traveled a long distance to present our case. And they are back to give us the results.” The audience already knew, of course. The news had gotten out within hours after their return. “I doubt there’s anyone here who doesn’t know Kwylla and Arin, but if you will, please stand for our audience. And let me introduce Clay Clairveau and Beth and Ken Squires.”
The Long Sunset Page 35