Octavia Gone

by Jack McDevitt

  “I’m sorry to inconvenience you, Ms. Poliks. Am I correct? You are his wife?”

  “I’m Kala. His niece.”

  “We’ve come all the way out from Rimway.”

  “I’m sorry about your inconvenience.” She glanced in my direction, let me see her annoyance, and returned her attention to Alex. “We’ve just had enough. This thing has been going on for, I don’t know, years now. Since before I started living here. We’d just like it to go away. There’s nothing new we can add.”

  “Kala, was your uncle here when my message came?”

  “No, he wasn’t. But he wouldn’t have answered it either. I’m sorry. I guess I should have saved you the trip. But it’s just been so hard to live with.”

  The door opened slightly and one of the girls peeked out. She was about eight, with the woman’s brown hair and bright amber eyes. She looked at Alex and then at me.

  “Hi,” I said. The girl smiled. Kala looked at me and her features softened slightly.

  “It’s possible,” Alex said, “that your uncle knows something that would be helpful but isn’t aware of it.”

  “Oh, please,” she said. “Give it a rest.”

  Alex managed to look sympathetic. “I understand you’re not happy with this, but we just don’t have many options. Is he really not here? Or are you protecting him?”

  “He’s not here.”

  “Could you give me a way to get in touch with him?”

  “I can’t do that,” she said. “I’m sorry.” She pushed back inside the door, taking the girl with her. The child waved good-bye, and the door closed.

  • • •

  “We need the datanet,” said Alex as we walked back to the lander. We got in and asked Belle for access to the local system. Then we gave it Poliks’s name. “Is there any indication where he is now?”

  “I do not have that information,” it said.

  “Who is his employer?”

  “Mr. Poliks is not formally employed. He does occasional contract work.”

  “Can you identify the person or corporation he’s most recently assisted?”

  “Orion Express.”

  “But you have no idea where he is now?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Orion Express has an office here somewhere, right?”

  “There are two. One in Desmond, the other on Ventnor, the space station.”

  “Where is Desmond?”

  “It’s located just west of Arbuckel. Only eight hundred kilometers from your present location.” It put a map on the display.

  “What time is it there? In Desmond?”

  “An hour earlier than it is where you are. A few minutes after ten.”

  “Please connect me.”

  We listened while it rang. Someone picked up. “Orion Express.” A woman’s voice. “How may I help you?”

  “Hello. My name is Benedict. I’m trying to locate Royce Poliks. He’s a contract engineer. I think he’s currently working on one of your projects.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Benedict, but we don’t give that kind of information out. I suggest you contact him through his local registry.”

  “Can you tell me if he’s actually working on a project now?”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I’m not free to do that. Is there anything else?”

  • • •

  Alex switched back to the datanet. “Can you tell me what kind of work Poliks does?”

  We received several pages of data regarding past projects. Poliks specialized in designing and constructing living quarters for interstellars, space stations, and other offworld accommodations. He’d helped put together the interior of the Octavia and also the control center on the cannon.

  “Has Orion Express begun working on any recent projects?” he asked.

  “They are planning to send hunting expeditions to Tiara III. The program is expected to launch in two months.”

  “What kind of animals will they be looking for?”

  “Giant lizards. Dinosaurs. Anything like that.”

  Alex took a deep breath and started again: “What other projects are there?”

  “They’re planning tours to Moranda.” Moranda was the one human world where things had gone terribly wrong. It was, at the height of its glory in the eighth millennium, considered the most advanced civilization in the known cosmos. But they suffered a revolution, the government broke down, violence erupted all over the planet, and millions died. It was the worst catastrophe on any human world.

  “It’s been a gold mine for archeologists,” said Alex. “I’ve been there a couple of times. They’ve put everything back together. The architecture is incredible. And there are all kinds of legends about what’s been lost in various places. ”

  “So I’ve heard.” He gave me that curious frown. “When were you there, Alex?”

  “When I was a teen. I went with Gabe.”

  “There are two other projects of which I’m aware,” said the datanet. “A large moon orbits a gas giant in the Aldebaran system. The moon is bigger than Chippewa, part of a huge system of rings and satellites. But it has fallen out of orbit and is being pulled into the gas giant, which will swallow it in approximately a quarter century. Orion Express is building a hotel on the moon for tourists. Projected name for it is the End Times Hotel.”

  “Why would anyone want to go there?” I asked.

  “I suspect they’ll fill the place,” said Alex. “People love seeing worlds get destroyed.”

  “They are also planning flights into the Trapezium, where they claim there’s a chance tourists might see a star born.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I said.

  “Well,” said Alex, “if they set it up right, they might get to see part of the process. Enough of it to send them home happy.”

  “Okay. So which one do they want Poliks for?”

  “I suspect the End Times Hotel.” He hesitated. “That sounds like the perfect place for an engineer who specializes in living quarters.”

  XXXII.

  Travel with a purpose,

  Not merely to go from one place to another,

  But to arrive at the heart of the matter.

  —WALFORD CANDLES, “MARKING TIME,” 1196

  Aldebaran is a red giant, about thirty-five times the size of Rimway’s sun. Its planetary system is home to an enormous Jovian world. It has a dazzling set of rings and about thirty satellites. “It’s never been named,” Belle told us. “Its designator is simply Aldebaran IV.”

  A moon almost the size of Rimway was effectively lost among the satellites. Or it would have been had a survey mission forty-two years earlier not noticed that it was a living world and that it was in a dying orbit. When Alex and I arrived, it had approximately twenty years left before it would crash into the gas giant.

  We were looking out at a spectacular sky, filled with moving lights. A magnificent set of glowing rings orbited Aldebaran IV, and a large dark spot loomed on its surface. A storm probably. “Belle,” I said, “are we picking up any radio signals?”

  “Radio waves are being generated, Chase. But I am not detecting any that are artificial.”

  “Okay. Let’s get closer to the End Times world.”

  “That’s an impressive sky,” said Alex, seated beside me. “I don’t know about people showing up out here to watch a planet-sized moon getting ready to crash into a gas giant, but I can understand vacationing in a place with this kind of view.”

  “You ready to call them?”

  “Sure.”

  The response was immediate: “Yes, Belle-Marie, this is the End Times Project.” A woman’s voice. “Did you wish to make a reservation?”

  “End Times,” Alex said, “we are looking for Royce Poliks. We understand he’s working on the project.”

  “Yes, he’s here. Do you want to talk with him?”

  “Please. If you will.”

  “He’s asleep at the moment. It’s just past midnight here. Is this an emergency?”

&
nbsp; “No. There’s no problem. We’d just like to talk with him for a few minutes. Can you get a message to him in the morning? Let him know we’re in the area?”

  “I can arrange that. It’ll be about six hours before you can expect to hear back.”

  “That’ll work.”

  “Will he recognize the name of the vehicle?”

  “No. I’m Alex Benedict. He won’t recognize my name either. But I would appreciate hearing back from him.”

  “Very good, Mr. Benedict. I’ll pass the message. End Times out.”

  “You think he’ll call back, Alex?”

  “I don’t know. He’s not likely to have any problem figuring out what this is about. Did Belle track the signal? Do we know where they are?”

  “Yes,” said Belle. “Do you wish to go there?”

  • • •

  As we approached the End Times world, Belle turned the scopes on it. It had oceans. They weren’t massive, dominating the planet. But they were there. It was covered with forests and jungles. The planet was in tidal lock, and if you’re building a hotel where people could stay and watch their world falling into a gas giant, you’d want them to be able to see it happening. That meant they’d be located in the area that was always looking up at the giant. The entire process was about scaring the customers. They were safe, and they would know it, but nevertheless they’d want to be able to watch the source of approaching doom getting larger in the sky every day.

  So we knew which side of the world they’d be on. Belle needed only a few minutes to locate the construction with the telescope.

  The sky was crowded by Aldebaran IV and its rings. And despite its distance, the scarlet sun also loomed large. Everything on the ground—soil, vegetation, water—had a crimson tinge. The landscape was mostly flat, with occasional hills. Something that might have been a giraffe was nibbling on one of the trees near the front of the hotel. As we got closer, we saw a few birds. A couple of canines were chasing each other around one of the fields.

  We were looking at three connected structures, any of which would not have raised any eyebrows in Andiquar. The architects had gone out of their way to create a sense that the occupants were effectively at home. Later I read that the point was to increase the levels of excitement and uneasiness by suggesting that cosmic hazards can threaten anyplace.

  The buildings looked complete. The central structure had a front entrance with a portico, columns, and steps. The construction material was probably plastene. Walls were blue and white, while doors and window frames were gold. There was no sign of outside activity. We slipped into a geosynchronous orbit so there’d be no problem getting a connection when, and if, Poliks called.

  • • •

  We were still floating above the hotel seven hours later when End Times connected us with him. “What is it you want, Mr. Benedict?” he asked. He was younger than I’d expected, with blond hair and dark eyes. He also had a smile that didn’t quite make it past his lips.

  “Mr. Poliks,” Alex said, “we’re doing research on the Octavia station. I know you’ve been interviewed before about this, but we have a new piece of information that you might be able to help with.”

  “Okay. Look, I’d be happy to help if I could. But I have no information I haven’t already passed on.”

  “Mr. Poliks, did you ever receive any transmissions from any of the people on board the Octavia station?”

  He closed his eyes momentarily, letting us see he’d hoped we would move on. “A few times, yes. Rick Harding and I exchanged messages occasionally. We were longtime friends. But it was strictly personal stuff. Look, we can cut this short. I got nothing on how that place came to disappear. If I did, I’d have told the QRG years ago. I’m sorry. I can’t help you. You’re just wasting your time. And mine.”

  “How well did you know Charlotte Hill?”

  “Charlotte Hill? She was the female on board Octavia, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I never had any connection with her. Never met her. Why do you ask?”

  “Shortly before it disappeared, she told one of her friends that there might be a problem of some kind on the station. She didn’t specify what it was. But she said that if it got worse, she’d let you know the details.”

  “Why the hell would she do that? I can’t imagine how she’d even have my name. You say she didn’t mention what it was she was talking about?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. There’s a misunderstanding here somewhere.”

  “You are Royce Poliks, right?”

  “Last time I looked.”

  Alex is usually pretty good at hiding his emotions, but there was no doubt about the frustration in his features. “All right,” he said finally. “Mr. Poliks, I apologize for taking your time. We’ve come from Rimway. We were hoping you might be of some help.”

  “Believe me, Mr. Benedict, if I could be of some help, I’d have told someone years ago.”

  Alex looked toward me. “This is Chase Kolpath, by the way.”

  Poliks smiled. “Nice to meet you, Chase.”

  I returned the smile. It seemed the right moment to try to relieve the tension that was building. “Royce,” I said, “it’s hard to believe anybody’s really going to come out here just because this place is falling out of orbit. It won’t happen for, what, twenty years? Why would anybody care? I can understand they’d come during the last week or two, but—”

  “There’s a lot more to it than that, Chase. It’s going to be an exciting experience for everybody. Research indicates that people get pretty roused up when they’re able to participate in a catastrophe of this magnitude. We are already seriously booked with reservations.”

  “When will you be opening?”

  “In six weeks. You can get specifics and, if you like, reservations while you’re here. You want me to connect you with the desk?”

  I knew Alex wanted to get past the link, meet the guy on the ground, and talk to him there. “I’m not sure what time it is down there, Mr. Poliks, but can we take you to lunch or dinner or something?”

  “No. No. Look, I understand your situation, but I just don’t have time for this. You want to talk to me, you’ll have to do it now.”

  “What kind of work do you do, sir?”

  “I’m just a tech. I design the assorted living quarters.” I couldn’t help sympathizing with him. He seemed like a decent guy, tired of people asking the same questions over and over. “Look, Mr. Benedict, I’ll tell you the truth. I hope something breaks for you. And I wish I was in a position to help. I’m just not. I don’t know anything more than anybody else does about what happened. I can tell you the power system in the Octavia was fine. If the system had collapsed, the worst that could have happened was that the lights would have gone out. There were secondary systems that would have cut in and given them enough power to survive until help came. There is no way it could have blown the place up or taken it out of orbit. Okay? You got that? It’s all I have.”

  “I got it,” said Alex.

  So much for the secret message from Charlotte.

  “Have you learned anything yet?” said Poliks. “Any kind of explanation for what might have happened?”

  “No,” said Alex. “We have some theories. Not much else. I assume the power system on the cannon also had backup?”

  “Yes, it did.”

  “Were you responsible for both systems? On the station and on the cannon?”

  “I wasn’t really responsible for either power system. What I did primarily was set up the living quarters on the cannon. I helped with the power systems, primarily with the one on the cannon. But that was just trivial stuff. Just making sure the lights went on and the power was there when they needed it. Mostly I was responsible to see that the living quarters on the cannon worked.” I got a brief smile from him. “You have anything else, Mr. Benedict?”

  “The cannon is still orbiting the black hole?”

  “As far as I know.”

 
“Do you know if there are any plans to recover it?”

  “I don’t think so. It’s too big. I doubt they have any means to transport the thing. More than that, they’re still using it for the wormhole research.”

  “So that’s ongoing?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “If we went out there, would we be able to get a look at it? The interior?”

  “I don’t see why not, Mr. Benedict. But let them know in advance.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Poliks. I appreciate your time.”

  XXXIII.

  The vast majority of scientific inquiries do not expect to confirm a concept or theory. The anticipated result, rather, is to eliminate various conjectures.

  —DELMAR HOUSMAN, GRADUATION ADDRESS, PARSET UNIVERSITY, 1419

  Alex sat staring out at the rings, his chin cupped in his palm.

  “I assume,” I said, “we’re not going home.”

  “Maybe she just didn’t get a chance to talk with Poliks. When it all unraveled they were blocked from contact with everyone. Maybe she had to settle for leaving a message in the cannon.”

  “You think that’s very likely?”

  “No. But it’s all we have.”

  “If she did, wouldn’t the QRG investigators have found it? Or the guys who’ve been doing research there for the last twelve years? It seems to me, if there was such a message, Lashonda Walton’s people would have picked it up years ago.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Then why are we going to take time to ride out to the cannon? Why don’t we go back home and talk to Walton?”

  “It’s possible that, if things were coming apart on the station, Charlotte wouldn’t just have pasted something to a control panel. Maybe she needed to hide it.”

  “So there might have been a message, but the investigators never found it.”

  “Maybe. It might have been wrapped in a towel. Who knows?”

  “That sounds crazy.”

  “It’s our last chance.”

  “Whatever you say, boss.”

  “Can we manage? We got food and fuel?”

  “Yes. We’ll be fine.”

  Belle broke in: “One thing, though. We should go by way of Cormoral. You’ll need armored suits to get into the cannon. There’s too much radiation out there.”