“All right,” he said. “Thanks. You have any idea what kind of shape it’s in?”
“Not very good, I wouldn’t think. I mean, there’s no maintenance program. It’s just been sitting on the lawn, getting rained on.” Her eyes sparkled, and he read the message: You’d just love to get back out there, wouldn’t you?
“Can you arrange to open it up for me? Let me take a look at it?”
NEWS DESK
PENGUINS MAKING COMEBACK
Off Endangered Species List After Half Century
CAN MACHINES HAVE SOULS?
AI at St. Luke’s Requests Baptism
Congregation Splits Down the Middle
INTELLIGENCE A LEARNED TRAIT?
New Study: Anybody Can Be a Genius
WINFIELD TELESCOPE TO BECOME OPERATIONAL TOMORROW
Expected to Provide First Glimpses of Extragalactic Planets
KENNEDY SPACE CENTER TO BE NATIONAL MONUMENT
Eight-Year Reclamation Effort Planned
Shuttles, Capsules, Rockets to Be on Display
TURMOIL CONTINUES IN MIDDLE EAST
World Council to Promote Liberal Education
Mullahs Denounce Plan
EARTHQUAKE KILLS SEVEN IN JAPAN
ANTIGRAV BELTS TO HIT MARKET FOR CHRISTMAS
Several States Push for Ban
Drunks at 2000 Feet?
HUMANS RETAIN BRIDGE TITLE
AIs Own Chess, But Weak at Nonverbals
Roman AutoMates Last in Berlin Tournament
HANLEY WINS NATIONAL BOOK AWARD FOR LIGHTS OUT
BABES AT MOONBASE ENDS 29-YEAR RUN
Succeeds The Twilight Diaries As Longest-Running Broadway Show
TORNADOES HAMMER DAKOTAS
Seven Dead in Grand Forks
chapter 11
THE HEAD OF the school board was Myra Castle, a staff assistant at a pharmaceutical company. Myra had political ambitions, was perpetually annoyed, and had, he suspected, never held any kind of authority position until she was elected to oversee the county educational system. If Julie could be believed, she was a petty tyrant. Myra had once introduced Matt to her husband as “the space guy” who went over to MacElroy occasionally to talk to the kids. When he called and asked if he could meet her for lunch, red flags must have gone up. “Why?” she asked.
“I have an idea for the school system. Something you might be interested in using.”
She was a small, pinched woman. One of the few, apparently, on whom the rejuv treatments had minimal effect. She was only in her fifties, but was visibly aging. “What’s the idea, Mr. Darwin?”
“I’d rather talk to you in person. If you can find the time. I know you’re busy.”
“Yes, I am, as a matter of fact. It would help if I knew at least generally what this is about.”
So much for Matt’s charm. “I wanted to talk to you about the lander.”
She had dark skin, narrow features, and wore a perpetual frown. She struck Matt as one of those occasional school board types who was in the business because she was still angry at her own teachers from years before and saw it as an opportunity to get even. The frown deepened. “The lander?” She had no idea what he was talking about.
“The one out front of MacElroy.”
“Oh.”
“I think there’s a way the school system could get some serious benefit from it.”
She brightened a bit. “I can’t imagine what we might do with it that we aren’t doing already, Mr. Darwin. We allow the children to go into it periodically, and we even open it up sometimes to the parents. What more is there?”
“Could you manage Delmar’s tomorrow? My treat?”
DELMAR’S WAS A pricey restaurant off the Greens in Crystal City. It got crowded around lunchtime, and they didn’t do reservations, so Matt got there early and had already commandeered a table when Myra walked in. He waved to her, and she nodded in his direction, flashed a peremptory smile, stopped to speak to a group of women seated by the window, and came over. “Hello, Mr. Darwin,” she said. “It’s good to see you.”
She seemed more at ease in person than she had over the circuit. They exchanged niceties for a few minutes, ordered their drinks and entrées, and Matt said some favorable things about the school system, and how well it was doing. Some of the credit for that belonged to the board.
It was transparent enough, but she appeared to buy it. She tried her drink, a cordial, and explained how being on the board wasn’t the picnic everybody seemed to think it was. She went on in that vein until her food came, a chef’s salad and a turkey sandwich. Matt had a plate of fried chicken. She tried the salad and bit into the sandwich. “If you’d care to explain what this is about, Mr. Darwin, I’d be interested in knowing what you want to do with my lander.”
He told her. Jon Silvestri was probably on the verge of one of the major discoveries in history. Nobody knew for sure. If it worked, it would, finally, open up the stars. But Silvestri needed a test vehicle. The lander, if it was still in reasonable working condition, would be perfect for that purpose. “It would cost the school system nothing,” he explained. “The only thing put at risk would be the vehicle itself. At worst, you could replace it with a cannon or something. Even if the effort failed, the school board would get credit for assisting scientific progress. But if it works, and there’s a decent chance that it will, anyone associated with it is going to look pretty good. Global coverage. Think about that. Worldwide and the Black Cat.”
She pushed her tongue against the side of her mouth. “This is the same guy who ran the experiment the other day, right?”
“Yes, it is. But he’s been making some adjustments—”
“Didn’t they lose the test vehicle?”
“He thinks he’s corrected the problem.”
“I see.” She took another bite from the salad and let her eyes drift away. “He’s fixed everything.”
“Yes, he has.”
“Then why has he—are you—coming to us? Surely if he’s got this star drive put together, there’d be a lot of people out there who’d be interested. And willing to let him have a lander.”
“If a corporation gets involved,” Matt said, “things get complicated. They want guarantees. Control.”
“I see.” She studied the sandwich as if it were prey. “And the lander is all he needs? Not a ship?”
“No. The lander would be sufficient.”
“Why didn’t they use a lander the first time? Seems as if it would have been less expensive.”
Matt grinned. “It never occurred to them.”
“And these are the people you want us to trust?”
His grin widened. “They’re physicists, Myra. They don’t think the way the rest of us do.”
“I see.”
Time to press the attack. “Look, the reality is that it’s an unforgiving world. You have one failure, and everybody counts you out. I’ve looked into Jon Silvestri’s background. The guy who developed the system. He’s good. It’s probably going to work. And we can be part of it. I mean, what have we got to lose? The lander’s not a big deal to the school system.”
She was nodding, probably without realizing it. “Matt—It is okay if I call you Matt?”
“Sure.”
“Matt, first of all, the lander has been out there for years. What makes you think it would still fly?”
“I’ve looked at it. It would need some work, but it should be okay.”
“And I take it you want to use the lander to run the next test.”
“Yes.”
Tongue in cheek again. “What’s your connection with this?”
That was a good question. Maybe it was just that he wanted to see it happen. Maybe. “I’m not sure,” he told her. “We could use a breakthrough like that. And it seemed to me to be a golden opportunity for the county. To help out and get some good PR.”
“That’s it? You’re not being paid?”
“No, ma’am. After the test is over, if all goe
s well, you get the lander back, it will have achieved historic value, the school board gets noticed around the world, and the lady who made it happen gives interviews on the Black Cat.”
“I’m sure.” She was trying to look unimpressed. As if she had conversations like this every day. “Can you guarantee we’d get it back in the same condition it’s in now? Can you guarantee we’ll get it back at all?”
“Myra, I wish I could.”
She finished the turkey. Cleaned up the last of the salad. A waitress showed up. Would they like some dessert?
The people at the next table were beginning to get a little loud. They were going on about politics.
“Matt,” she said, “why don’t they just buy one?”
“I suspect they would if they had the money. That’s what makes it an opportunity for us.”
“The lander at the school isn’t new. But it already has historic value. If you were to take it and lose it, or damage it, it would be a severe embarrassment.”
“I think people would understand. I think you’d get credit for trying.”
She fell silent. Withdrew within herself. Then: “We’d want them to sign a waiver of liability. If something happens, we can’t be held in any way responsible.”
“I’m sure there wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Okay. Matt, I won’t give it to you. But I will offer a trade.”
“A trade.”
“Yes. I’ll be running for the state senate next year. I’d like your support.”
“Why would anybody care what I thought?”
“Former star pilot. That carries some weight.”
“Okay,” he said. It would be simple enough. Painful, but easy. He was sure he could find something nice to say about her without bending the truth too far. “Of course,” he said. “Whatever I can do to help.”
“Good. It’ll mean some speaking engagements. And I’ll want you to appear with me occasionally at other public events.”
“Of course. Easily done.”
“I’m sure.” She finished her drink. “Also—”
“There’s more?”
“MacElroy needs a decent science lab. Update subscriptions aren’t all that expensive, but the equipment is. And the AI should be replaced. The school system is broke. We’re always broke.” She smiled. “It’s a good cause.”
“Wait a minute. You want me to do something to update the science program?”
“Yes. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I just—”
“Maybe I’m not who you think I am, Mr. Darwin.”
“How much?” he said.
She thought about it. “We’ve been looking at the Eastman High Complex. In Arlington.”
“How much?”
“One-fifty should cover it. If it doesn’t, we’ll make up the rest.”
“Myra, you’re talking a lot of money.”
“I’m sure it’s far less than a lander would cost. But if you can’t manage it—”
“No. Let me see what I can do.”
“Excellent. Get it done, and we’ll name the lab for you.” She glanced at the time and got to her feet. “That was excellent. Have to go, Matt.” She thanked him for the lunch, for the company, and swept away.
“YOU HAVE THE lander, Matt?” asked Silvestri.
“Not yet, Jon. I’m working on it.”
“It would be nice. If you get it, where will it be coming from?” He looked as if he’d just returned from a workout. Shorts, drenched T-shirt, towel around his neck.
“Let me worry about that. I have one question for you, and I need an honest answer.”
“Sure.” A woman appeared in the background. Young, slim, redheaded, good-looking. Also in a sweat suit.
“Will it work this time?”
“Matt, I can’t promise anything. But yes, there’s a good chance. I’ve figured out where it went wrong.”
Matt wondered if he’d allowed himself to get carried away. “How much will it cost to install the Locarno? In the lander?”
“It won’t be cheap. But I think I can talk Rudy into underwriting it.”
“Rudy Golombeck?”
“Yes.”
“What if he says no?”
“Then I’ll just cut a deal with one of the corporates. I don’t want to do that, but I will if I have to.” The woman had ducked out of sight. Silvestri glanced after her, and Matt wondered if he was more interested in getting to her than he was in the drive. “Anything else?” he asked.
“I guess that’s all.”
“Good. Talk to you later. Let me know how it goes.”
Silvestri broke the link, and Matt stared at the space where the physicist had been.
He called Crandall Dickinson, who coordinated speakers at the Liberty Club. “Crandall,” he said, “who’s the next scheduled speaker?”
Dickinson was in his office. Matt could hear a basketball game, the volume turned down. The display was obviously off to one side. Dickinson kept glancing at it while they talked. “Next speaker?” He passed the question to the AI, glanced at the game, looked down at the response. “Harley Willington. Why?”
Harley was a local banker. They brought him in every couple of years, and he talked about the national debt and global fiscal trends. It was never practical stuff that anybody could use. Harley had a degree in economics from Harvard and liked to show it off. “Could we move him to another time, do you think? If I came up with a celebrity speaker?”
There was a roar and Crandall sucked air between clenched teeth. The other side had scored a big one. He stared at it for a few seconds, then turned back to Matt. “I don’t know, Matt. That always creates a problem. You have any idea what kind of message a last-minute cancellation sends?”
“Crandall, I know. And I wouldn’t ask, but it’s important.”
“Why? Who’s the celebrity?”
“Priscilla Hutchins.”
“Who?”
“The star pilot. The woman connected with rescuing the Goompahs.”
He shook his head. “Who the hell are the Goompahs?”
“Okay, look. She’s a good speaker. If you plugged her in, she’d give you a serious performance.”
“Matt, I don’t mind adding her to the speaker list. But why don’t we let her wait her turn? We could put her on”—he turned aside, checked something, came back—“in September. That be okay?”
“Crandall, this is important. We need it to happen this month.”
The guy was really suffering. “Who is she again?”
“Priscilla Hutchins.”
He wrote it down. “You owe me,” he said.
“One more thing.”
“There’s more?”
“I just wanted you not to cancel Harley until I get back to you.”
That brought eye-rolling and a loud sigh. “You haven’t set it up with her yet, right?”
“I’m working on it now.”
“What’s the big hurry, Matt?”
“It’s important. I’ll explain it to you when I have a minute.”
The other team apparently scored again. Crandall looked again to the side, groaned, and disconnected. Matt’s AI congratulated him. “I thought you were very good,” he said. “I didn’t think he was going to go for it.”
“Everything’s politics. I’ve done him a few favors. Now, see if you can connect me with Priscilla Hutchins.”
“Ah, yes. Good luck.”
HUTCHINS WAS OFF somewhere, out of touch, and he needed two days to locate her. In the meantime, Crandall called and insisted on a decision. Matt told him to cancel the banker.
“What happens if we don’t get What’s-her-name?”
“We’ll get her. Don’t worry.” If not, he’d dig up a history teacher over at the school to come in and talk about the five worst presidents, or some such thing. It would still be a considerable improvement.
WHEN HE FINALLY caught up with Hutchins and explained what he was trying to do, she didn’t take it well
. “Let me get this straight,” she said. “You’ve committed me to do a fund-raiser to equip a high school lab so they’ll let you have a lander that’s been sitting out on the grass for the last few years. Do I have that right, Mr. Darwin?”
“Yes, ma’am. As far as it goes.”
“And you’ve talked to Dr. Silvestri about using the lander to run the next Locarno test?”
“Yes.”
“And he thinks that’s a good idea?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Tell me again who you are.”
Matt explained. Former star pilot. A number of years with the Academy. Worked for you briefly when you were director of operations. Want to see the Locarno program work.
“Why me?”
He thought, Because we’re kindred souls. But he said, “I’ve seen you speak. And I thought you’d be willing to help.”
Hutchins was an attractive woman. She’d been around a long time, but you had to look hard to see it. Black hair, dark eyes, fine cheekbones. She might have been thirty. But her manner suggested she was not someone to be jollied along. “Mr. Darwin, don’t you think it might have been a good idea to check with me first?” She was at home, seated on a sofa behind a coffee table. Behind her, a painting of an old-style starship dominated the wall.
“I wasn’t sure I could get you plugged in. I didn’t want to have you accept, then have to go back to you and explain that the club wouldn’t make the change.”
“What makes you think the Locarno will perform any better this time?”
“I’ve spoken with Jon.” The use of the first name was too familiar, and he regretted using it but couldn’t get it back.
“As have I. What’s your background in physics?”
“Limited,” he said.
“So you base your conviction on what? Silvestri’s sincerity? His optimism?”
“Ms. Hutchins, I’ve talked to a physicist who says it’s possible.”
“That’s a step forward. I suppose we could have a power failure at any moment, too.”
He was beginning to get annoyed. “I was hoping to find you a bit more open-minded.”
“Open-minded to what? An outside chance that maybe, just maybe, Silvestri has it right? You want me to invest an evening to go down there and try to persuade people to kick in money on an outside chance?”
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