Stephen Thomas stomped in. He stripped off his gray Starfarer t-shirt and attacked it with a pair of dissecting scissors. Like Zev, he had fine gold hair on his chest and his forearms.
“There’s not a goddamned decent pair of scissors in the place,” he said. He sawed at the neckband of the t-shirt. The crystal at the hollow of his throat changed from black to red to blue.
“What are you doing?” J.D. said.
“Complying with regulations.” He ripped away the last few inches of the neckband and set to work on the sleeves.
J.D. closed her eyes and read the new orders. First, the prohibition against meetings. Second: “Starting immediately, personnel of Starfarer will wear standard issue clothing. Only regulation apparel will be tolerated.” Third: “All faculty members will immediately suspend current research and prepare detailed papers describing the defense applications and implications of their work.”
“You’d better shut the door,” Victoria said bitterly.
“I think we should leave the damned door open,” Stephen Thomas said.
“I think we’re in for a fight,” Satoshi said. “The clothing rule is trivial — ”
“Speak for yourself,” Stephen Thomas said.
“ — but forbidding public assembly, and suspending research... This is serious.”
J.D. sank down on the thick windowsill, her shoulders slumping. “I don’t know what to do,” she said. “My work doesn’t have any defense applications, and nobody issued me any standard clothes. I didn’t know there was such a thing.”
“Don’t worry about it, J.D.,” Stephen Thomas said. “The orders are obviously illegal.” He put on the shredded t-shirt, inside out. The printed emblem showed faintly through the wrong side of the fabric. “How do you like my ‘regulation apparel’?”
Thanthavong turned away from the window. She was wearing a gray jumpsuit with Starfarer’s insignia on the left chest.
“The orders may be judged illegal.” She spoke in a calm and reasoned tone. “But defying them, especially publicly, could cause us a great deal of trouble before we ever get to court, much less win.”
“Professor, don’t you think they’re just trying to provoke us?” Victoria said. “Neither Chancellor Blades nor EarthSpace has any authority to tell us who we can talk to or what research we’re allowed, never mind what we wear!”
“Victoria, have you read your contract?”
“Sure,” Victoria said. “I mean I skimmed it when it arrived. It was about a hundred megabytes of legalese, whoever reads that stuff? EarthSpace said do you want to go on the expedition? and I said sure and they said sign here, so I did.” She stopped, abashed by the admission, then looked around and realized that no one else, except Thanthavong, had read the contract through.
“The standard contract gives them a certain authority over you and your actions.”
“The authority only extends as far as they can get somebody to enforce it,” Stephen Thomas said.
“You can be as flippant as you like, Stephen Thomas,” Thanthavong said. “But EarthSpace can ask any of the primary governmental associates to declare martial law.”
The comment astonished everyone but Feral.
Thanthavong continued. “If they declare martial law and send troops — ”
“Troops!” Satoshi said. “Good lord — !”
“ — to enforce it, I think that our chances of continuing with the expedition are vanishingly small.”
“You mean we’re screwed,” Stephen Thomas said.
“Well put.”
“You aren’t exaggerating, are you?” Iphigenie said. “You believe they may send armed forces to take us over.”
“I think the possibility is measurable.”
For a few moments, no one could think of anything else to say.
“I don’t understand why the chancellor decided these orders were necessary in the first place,” Satoshi said. “Never mind whether he’ll get away with them.”
“It’s the meeting tonight,” Victoria said. “They don’t want us to hold it. The other stuff is just for distraction.”
“It’s more than the meeting,” Feral said.
“What can you tell us about this, Mr. Korzybski?” Thanthavong asked.
“It begins with the divers.”
J.D. started. “What do the divers have to do with anything?”
“They applied for political asylum in Canada — ”
“I know, but — ”
“That’s an embarrassment to the U.S. government. Which doesn’t want to be embarrassed twice in a row. So you get the flak — more restrictions. I can’t tell you where I heard this. I haven’t been able to confirm it, but it feels right. The rumor is that the divers fled because if they stayed they’d be coerced into spying.”
Victoria turned to J.D. “Did you know about this?”
J.D. stared at the floor. “If Lykos makes a public statement about why the divers left, I can talk about what I know. Otherwise, I can’t. Victoria, it doesn’t matter — whether I knew or not, I wouldn’t have made this connection. I should have, but...”
“We’re a resource,” Victoria said. “We are. The starship is. The divers were a resource. Governments can tolerate unexploited resources. But not lost ones. Somebody has decided that letting the expedition proceed is equivalent to losing Starfarer.”
“So now they don’t intend to allow us to proceed,” Iphigenie said.
“I don’t think so.”
“But — ” J.D. heard someone in the hall. As if she were a conspirator, as if she were breaking a reasonable law by sitting in a room and talking with her co-workers, she fell silent and glanced toward the doorway. Her reaction caused everyone else to look in the same direction.
And so Gerald Hemminge appeared in a moment of quiet during which they were all staring at the doorway, during which it looked as if everyone, not just J.D., felt frightened and guilty.
“Perhaps you haven’t heard the new rules,” Gerald said. “Dr. Thanthavong, I’m sorry to come twice in one day bearing unwelcome news — ”
“We heard the damned rules, Gerald — Ow!” Stephen Thomas winced when Victoria elbowed him, too late to shut him up.
Gerald scowled. “Haven’t you any loyalty to anything? You’ve all put me in an unpleasant position.”
“I’ve about had it with you accusing me of treason every time I disagree with you!” Stephen Thomas said.
He rose, but Victoria put one hand gently on his arm and drew him down again.
Gerald backed one fast step into the hall. “I can hardly pretend I never saw you.”
“You could,” Stephen Thomas said, sounding calmer than he looked. “But you won’t.”
“Bloody right,” Gerald said. “You have a great deal to learn about conspiracy. Perhaps you might close the door next time.” He hurried away.
“As laws of conspiracy go,” Feral said, “closing the door is a good one to start with.”
Victoria buried her face in her hands, laughing. Satoshi started to chuckle, too, and soon everyone but J.D. was laughing. J.D. saw nothing funny about being reported to whoever represented the law on Starfarer.
“What’s he going to do?” J.D. asked.
“Write a memo,” Stephen Thomas said.
“You aren’t taking this very seriously.”
“Bloody right,” Stephen Thomas said in exactly the same tone of voice Gerald had used.
“You could have let him lecture us, Stephen Thomas, instead of insulting him,” Thanthavong said. “We could have thanked him sincerely for correcting us. That way we would have a few more hours before it became obvious that we intend to defy the orders.”
Stephen Thomas looked abashed. Then he smiled, and J.D. wondered how anyone could see that smile and not let him get away with anything he wanted.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just that Gerald asks for it, and I can’t resist.”
“It is not necessary,” Thanthavong said, unmoved, “t
o take advantage of every opportunity with which one is presented.”
“Do we intend to defy the order?” J.D. wished her voice did not sound so thin and scared.
They looked at each other.
“You are all young,” Thanthavong said. “You have your achievements ahead of you. If we defy the order and fail, you will find that you have made life difficult for yourselves. No one could blame you if you acceded to what may become inevitable.”
“Is that what you plan to do?” Victoria sounded shocked.
“No,” Thanthavong said. “On Starfarer, I have been able to work — to do real work, the work I spent my life preparing for — for the first time in many years. I cannot go back to notoriety and promoting good causes. Nor will I pervert my science to war. My cause is the expedition.”
“You aren’t alone,” Victoria said.
“No,” Satoshi said. “You’re not.” A display formed over the desk. “J.D. had a great idea. There’s my report.”
He had sent a single sentence to Arachne:
“My research has no defense applications.”
o0o
Despite their defiance, the group in Stephen Thomas’s office could not help but be affected by the orders. They left the genetics building one by one: Thanthavong, then Satoshi, looking overly casual; Iphigenie, and Victoria close behind her. Feral hesitated by the doorway, both anxious and excited.
As the office emptied, J.D. contacted Arachne for an update on the divers. Nothing further had appeared on the public news services: no statement by Lykos, no confirmation of the rumors Feral had heard, no message from Zev. Until the divers spoke out, J.D. felt she should remain silent about what she knew. She wished she had remained silent about them from the beginning. Then none of this would have happened.
She should have seen this coming. It was her job to make connections between apparently disparate events. She should have realized, as Feral had, that the effect of the divers’ flight could spread to the expedition.
I let myself get too close, J.D. thought. I got sidetracked into... personal considerations.
As she was about to break the link, Arachne signaled her with a message.
It was from Lykos.
J.D. hesitated before accepting it.
Why am I so frightened? she thought. They got away, they’re safe, and I said nothing that could have put them in more danger.
She traced her reaction deeper: She was afraid some observer might violate privacy laws, record her communication with the divers, and brand her a troublemaker.
But she had already crossed that line.
J.D. accepted the communication.
“J.D. Sauvage: Where is Zev? His family has had no word from him since he stayed behind to join your expedition. We are concerned.”
The message ended. J.D. looked up blankly. Nearby, Stephen Thomas and Feral talked together. Feral glanced across at her and grinned.
“I think it’s safe out there,” he said. “Everybody else has slunk off like spies.”
Stephen Thomas looked over his shoulder, also smiling, but his smile vanished as soon as he saw her.
“Good god, J.D., what’s the matter?”
“A friend of mine has disappeared.”
Searching for the connections she had failed to see earlier, she told Stephen Thomas and Feral what had happened.
“I don’t see that there’s anything to be worried about,” Stephen Thomas said. “So he went off by himself and didn’t tell his mother. How old is he?”
“Seventeen or eighteen, I guess.”
Stephen Thomas shrugged. “Sounds normal to me. He’s growing up.”
“But that isn’t how divers act.”
“That isn’t how most divers act. But you’ve just said most of the divers went to Canada. He stayed behind. So he isn’t ‘most divers.’ Q.E.D.”
“He wouldn’t scare Lykos.”
“Not deliberately. Maybe he forgot.”
“I guess it’s possible...” But she did not believe it. She could not make herself believe that Zev forgot to tell Lykos he was all right, forgot to ask if his family had made it to Canada, forgot to tell J.D. he was going to try to join the expedition, even forgot to check his mail.
“No,” she said. “It sounds perfectly sensible when you say it, but it couldn’t have happened that way.”
“If he tried to apply to the expedition, and he’s only eighteen, they turned him down,” Stephen Thomas said. “So he’s probably on his way to join his family.”
J.D. made connections she wished she could have overlooked. “Or he applied, and they realized if they kept him, they’d have a hold on the other divers. And what about Chandra?”
“The artist? What does she have to do with this?”
“She disappeared too. At the same time. She was supposed to meet me at my cabin, but I’d already left. Feral, you remember, you reminded me about her on the transport the other day. I tried to call her, I left a message. She never replied, but I didn’t think anything of it. Now...”
“We’ve got enough to worry about without adding conspiracy theories!”
“If the diver is being held,” Feral said, “if Chandra saw something she wasn’t supposed to...”
“Where are they?” J.D. cried. “How am I going to find them?”
“If your friend wanted to join the expedition,” Stephen Thomas said, “why the hell didn’t he wait till he got asylum in Canada, and apply from there?”
“I don’t know. He probably didn’t realize there was any danger. It’s a long swim to Canada, and he was probably in a hurry. Maybe he came ashore to catch the bus into town! And somebody was waiting for him.”
She looked at Feral for confirmation. He shrugged unhappily.
“It could have happened that way.”
J.D. rose.
“What are you going to do?”
“Find him, of course. Feral, will you help me?”
“I’ll try,” he said. He looked troubled.
“What?”
“Nothing. Nothing that hasn’t happened before. But never on this scale.”
“What?”
“My communication budget is running low.”
“You can use my credit. Come on.”
“You’re going to try to find this guy from way out here?” Stephen Thomas said.
“From way down there, if necessary.”
J.D. left the office.
Stephen Thomas followed. “J.D.! If you go to Earth now, you might not be able to get back!”
“I know it. I can’t help it.”
“But — ”
She swung angrily around. He stopped short.
“If he’s in trouble, it’s my fault! If he’s in trouble and Lykos finds out where he is before I do, she and the other divers will leave whatever haven they’ve found to go and get him.”
“Why?” His voice was full of skepticism and amazed disbelief.
“Because he’s part of their family. Because that’s how divers are.”
The derision vanished from his expression. “I wish — ” he said. “Never mind. But if there’s any way I can help you, I will.”
“Thank you,” she said, startled into curtness.
o0o
“Iphigenie!”
The sailmaster turned and waited for Victoria.
“Are you going back out?”
“Mm-hmm. I feel more comfortable watching the sail.”
“Would you take a look at this?” Victoria handed Iphigenie the module that held her new string calculations.
“What is it?”
“Results out of a new symbolic manipulation. Usable results.”
“Why do you want me to look at them?” she said. “I’m in charge of intrasystem navigation. Not transition.”
“I ran some other numbers. If you use the sail during lunar passage, we could take this approach...”
Iphigenie looked at Victoria, looked at the module, and gave it back.
“I don’t
think so,” she said.
“But it’s faster, more efficient, and... sooner.” The module lay cool in Victoria’s hand. “Just take a look. Please.”
“But transition’s already planned! And I’m not finished testing the sails.” Iphigenie did not take the module. “It’s too risky!”
Victoria laughed. “Riskier than what we’re already planning?”
“I suppose not,” Iphigenie said, nonplused. “But why do you want to change things?”
“Have you figured out whether Starfarer can outrun a transport if it has to?”
“No.”
“It can’t,” Victoria said. “And we won’t be out of range for weeks.”
“Of course not. We planned it that way. We have a lot of supplies still to take on.”
“So if... what Professor Thanthavong said, happens, we’d have no way to stop it, eh?”
Iphigenie pushed her hands across the tight braids of her black hair.
“It won’t come to that. It can’t.”
“Don’t be naive.”
“Victoria, if we’re called back, I’m the one who has to take the order. I’m the one who has to reverse the sail and decelerate... I don’t want to do that.”
“I know you don’t. But everything that’s happened makes me think that’s what’s next. No matter what we do.”
Iphigenie pointed with her chin toward Victoria’s hand, toward the module carrying the new calculations.
“Sooner, you said?”
“Much sooner. The string section we’re aiming for now is way to hell and gone out by the orbit of Mars. If you change the sails as we go around the moon, if we use the new solution... we’d only need one pass around the moon.”
“One!”
“Yes. We’d be aiming for the nearest point on the string.”
Iphigenie frowned. Victoria could imagine her setting up the problem in her mind, solving it. The sailmaster rocked back on her heels, astonished.
“Tomorrow! We’d encounter the string late tomorrow! But we’re not ready. We’re not supplied, half our people are gone.”
“We’re being set up to be stopped!”
The Starfarers Quartet Omnibus Page 22