MCGRUDER CHALLENGES BELMAR TO RELEASE IQ SCORE
SPACEPORT SECURITY FLUNKS CHECK
Reporters Board Flights with Fake Bombs
Coordinated Test Gets by Flaws in London, Berlin, Tokyo, New York
Peking & Paris Block Entry
DROUGHT CONTINUES IN MIDWEST
Water Rationing in Effect in Eight States
Chapter 28
“HI, HUTCH.”
She heard it several times next morning before she even got to her desk. One of the medical guys used it to say hello while she was at breakfast; Joan Kung sang it out as they passed in the Starlight lobby; a staff member whose name she didn’t even know used it coming out of the elevator. Frank, who was going the other way in the corridor outside her office, raised a hand but said nothing. Though maybe the smile said it all.
She picked up her coffee and went into her office. Nikki greeted her: “Good morning, Hutch.”
“You, too?”
“I’m sorry. Couldn’t resist.”
“You need some new material.”
“I sense that you are annoyed.”
“Hey, they introduced me to one of the biggest stars of this generation, and they made it a point to screw up my name.”
“I’m sure Patricia meant no harm.”
Priscilla sank into her chair and set her coffee on the desk. “I know. And I’m acting like an idiot.”
“May I ask why, Priscilla?”
“Love your tact.”
“Thank you.”
“Was that sarcasm?”
“Sarcasm is a purely human response.”
“Okay. Look, if you have to know, I spent a large chunk of my childhood trying to get rid of Prissy, which was the name my mom used for me most of the time. I never much cared for Priscilla either.”
“May I ask why not?”
“I just didn’t like the sound of it. So I tried to get my folks to change my name. To give me a nickname.”
“And what nickname would you have preferred?”
“That’s what annoys me. I wanted Hutch. It never really caught on. Until, apparently, yesterday.”
“I do not have a laughter capability.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“So why don’t you cash in on it now? Take Hutch as your own. There will never be a better time.”
“Nikki, I’ve gotten used to Priscilla.”
“It’s your call. By the way, Priscilla, we have an organization chart that needs updating.”
* * *
SHE WAS TRYING to get some accounting records together when Parik Simpkins came in. Parik was a construction worker. She’d only met him once before and had to scramble to come up with his name. He had dark skin, dark eyes, and an easy smile. He held out a pair of earrings. “Are these yours, by any chance?”
They looked like pearls. “No,” she said. “What makes you think they might be mine?”
“They were found on the Bomb. You were the last person to use the ship.”
“Not mine,” she said. “Rob might know something.” There were rumors that Rob Clayborn entertained occasional lady friends aboard the Baumbachner. Which maybe explained the dizziness.
“Okay, I’ll check with him.” He started to leave. Hesitated. “Did you hear about the problem at Teegarden?”
“At where?”
“Teegarden’s Star.”
“Oh. No, I didn’t. What’s going on?”
“You know the Academy Project has a research station on the ground, right? Well, anyhow, they can’t get the lander started. They’re running out of food and water. The Proxmire’s in orbit, with plenty of supplies, but they don’t have any way to deliver them.”
“That’s not good. Is the lander on the ground?”
“Yes.”
“When did we find out?”
“Yesterday,” he said.
“So what are we doing?”
He shrugged. “I thought you’d know.”
* * *
THREE MINUTES LATER, she was in Frank’s outer office. The staff assistant looked up. “He’s busy,” she said. “I can call you when he’s available. It shouldn’t be long.”
“How about if I wait?”
“Suit yourself.”
She sat down, looked out the window just in time to see the rim of the Moon disappear. The Moon was back in the window when Frank’s door finally opened. Patricia came out. She smiled at Priscilla, said hello, and left without waiting for a response. Frank saw her, rolled his eyes, and waved her inside. “Something wrong?” he asked, as the door closed behind her.
“I just heard about the Teegarden problem.”
“Sit,” he said as he lowered himself onto his desk. “Yeah. Well, we’re working on it.”
“May I ask what we’re doing?”
His jaws tightened. “Priscilla, I’m kind of busy right now. We’re taking care of it, okay?” There was an edge in his voice.
“Is someone on the way there?” she asked.
“Not yet. We sent a message to the Grosvenor. Actually, to the Grosvenor’s destination. It’s headed for the station at Ross 248. As soon as it surfaces, they’ll let it know what happened.”
“As soon as it surfaces? When will that be?”
“Two days. More or less.”
“Frank, they’re not much closer to Teegarden than we are. So the Grosvenor gets the message two days from now, and then it starts for Teegarden?”
“That’s correct. Yes.”
“Our flight time to Teegarden is about the same as theirs. If we start now, we’d save two days.”
“Priscilla.” He was getting annoyed. “Look, why don’t you leave this to us? You must have something better to do.”
“Why don’t we send somebody from here?”
“Because we don’t have anybody to send. Now please just leave it alone.”
“What about the Baumbachner?”
He laughed. “The Baumbachner? That’s our maintenance vehicle.” He took a deep breath. “This is not a life-and-death situation. They won’t run out of food for another day or two. So relax and let me handle it, okay?” He looked toward the open door.
* * *
SHE WONDERED HOW he could be so sure no lives were at risk. Interstellar communication was reliable, but there was no guarantee. It wasn’t hard to think of ways the Grosvenor rescue could go wrong. In any case, a couple of extra days without food and water could be a fairly negative experience. Why put people through that if it wasn’t necessary?
Priscilla went back to her office and sat staring at her display. Accounting records. Eventually, unless we change the system, there are going to be more casualties. And nobody really seems to care. The only thing that matters is who gets blamed.
She put Teegarden’s Star on-screen. It was a brown dwarf, with a miniscule fraction of the sun’s luminosity. It possessed a single planet, in close, barely one and a half million kilometers out. Remarkably, the world had life. Which was why a base was being established on the surface. The animals consisted mostly of spidery stuff, creatures with multiple legs and wings, bulging eyes, beetle husks. She looked at pictures of the ground. There were no trees, just bushes and thickets and brambles, almost white rather than green, twisted and strung together. The skies were always dark, black at night, dusky gray when the sun was in the sky. The data said there was a moon, but it took a serious effort to locate it in the visuals.
And there were pictures of the ground staff. Five people, led by an Alexander Quinn. Quinn reminded her of a history teacher she’d had back in high school. Tall, thin, with a long nose and a take-no-prisoners attitude. His opinion was always on display.
Quinn and his people would not be happy trying to get by for a few days without meals. His team all looked pretty young. Two
guys and two women. There was no question what the WSA should be doing. And if something went wrong because they hadn’t given maximum effort, she’d be as guilty as Irasco. She checked the schedule to see who was on duty in operations. It was Yoshie Blakeslee. Priscilla knew her but not well. “Nikki,” she said, “connect me with Ops.”
The green light blinked, and Yoshie responded: “This is Operations. What can I do for you, Priscilla?”
“Yoshie, I need a favor.”
“Sure.”
“I want you to prep the Baumbachner for departure. Do a complete refueling. I’ll need two weeks’ supply of food and water for one.”
“Priscilla, why do you need to refuel? It has plenty of fuel.”
“I’d just as soon you not ask too many questions. But I’ll be making a jump.”
“On the Baumbachner?” She sounded reluctant.
“Yes.”
“Destination, please?”
“I’m still working on it. Just get it ready. Posthaste. I’ll be there in a half hour.”
“Who’s the ordering official, please?”
“Mr. Irasco.”
* * *
SHE LEFT THE office, strolled casually down the corridor, said hello to Patricia, who was just coming out of the conference room, and descended to the main deck. Then she hurried to her hotel room, packed, and ten minutes later showed up on bravo dock, where the Baumbachner was secured. A second ship had arrived and was being unloaded on the far side. She thought of Frank’s comment: “We don’t have anybody to send.” Well, it was possible Frank had asked, but the carrier had other uses for the vehicle and declined. It wasn’t hard to imagine its happening that way. After all, it’s not life and death. Frank asks for help and has to show somebody’s in imminent danger. Out here, where you’re dealing with interstellar distances, by the time the danger becomes imminent, it tends to be fairly late.
She stopped at the departure desk. Nobody was there, but an AI asked her name.
“Priscilla Hutchins.”
“Priscilla, have you determined a destination yet?”
“Teegarden’s Star,” she said.
“Purpose of visit?”
“Rescue operation.”
“Will you be carrying any passengers?”
“Negative. I’ll be alone.”
“Very good, Priscilla. You’re clear to go.”
“Thank you.” She went into the access tube, hurried down to the dock, and boarded the ship. She closed the air lock, stowed her bag, and went onto the bridge. “Hello, Myra,” she said.
“Hello, Priscilla.” The AI sounded cheerful. “Where are we going?”
“Teegarden’s Star.”
“Teegarden’s? Why are we going there?”
“To bail out an Academy team.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent. I’ve never done a bailout.”
* * *
THE ENGINES CAME on. “Ops, this is Baumbachner. We are ready to go.”
The launch doors began to open, and Yoshie was back on the circuit. “Baumbachner, proceed at your leisure. Priscilla, there are no other vehicles in the area.”
“Roger that, Yoshie. See you when I get back.” She switched off the mike. “Okay, Myra, let’s move. Just like last time.”
“Lines released, Priscilla. Thrusters activated.” They began to back out of the dock.
“Bring us around until we face the launch doors, Myra.”
Gradually, she lined up with the exit, and the ship moved forward.
“Hutchins!” Irasco’s voice exploded over the commlink. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
She stared at the mike. Made a noise deep in her throat. And responded: “Frank, I’m headed for Teegarden.”
“No you’re not. Priscilla, bring it back.”
Myra’s voice: “What do we do, Priscilla?”
“Keep moving.”
The doors began to close. “We do not have time to pass through, Priscilla.”
“Okay,” she said. “Hold it.”
Someone exhaled on the commlink. Yoshie. Then Irasco said, quietly, “After it’s docked, stop by my office.”
* * *
“HAVE YOU LOST your mind?” Frank sat behind his desk, glaring. “What the hell were you trying to do? Show me up?”
She was standing in front of his desk. “It wasn’t about you, Frank. It was about the people at the other end. They’re waiting for somebody who may or may not get the word that they’re in trouble.”
“All right.” He shook his head. “Priscilla, I just don’t understand you. But you haven’t left me much choice. You’re terminated. Please go away.”
“Frank. We lost Joshua because we didn’t get to him in time. Eventually, we’ll be forced to establish a response unit of some kind. Do you want to wait until somebody else is killed?”
“Damn it, Priscilla, back off. You think I like this arrangement? It’s the system we have. You go out there in that wreck, and something goes wrong, you’re dead.” He took a deep breath. “You’re lucky, by the way.”
“How’s that?”
“I’m not going to take your license. But I doubt if, after this, anybody will hire you.”
* * *
PRISCILLA’S JOURNAL
Five people stranded out there, and all I can do is think of myself. Why is it always about me? But the reality is that, eventually, I may turn out to be the only casualty of this thing.
—January 19, 2196
Chapter 29
PRISCILLA RETURNED TO her office, dropped into a chair, and stared at the link. Maybe she should call and apologize. Assure Irasco she’d stay in line from now on. Cause no more problems. She did not want to walk away from this job. Did not want to go back to Princeton, where she’d probably spend her time waiting on tables at the Chicken Stop. But there was no way she could bring herself to do that. Anyhow, he probably wouldn’t back off even if she did.
Good-bye, Alpha Centauri.
She called the shuttle terminal and asked for a reservation. The afternoon flight was full. They could accommodate her in the morning. She locked it in and started gathering her personal belongings. It was easy enough; she hadn’t really moved much stuff into the office. There was a Liberator desk calendar, with a fresh cartoon every day. The Liberator had the funniest cartoons on the planet. The current one showed an idiotic-looking clerk assuring his boss that he shouldn’t worry about a thing. “I’ll take care of it personally.”
She kept a change of clothes in the closet. She gathered her notebook and her pens and took down the wall calendar. It was all pictures of animals. January featured two kittens. (She liked paper calendars.) She picked up her toothbrush and, finally, the framed photo of the six graduating cadets, taken at the ceremony.
She put everything into her bag and decided to avoid saying good-bye to her coworkers. There was no way that could turn out well. As angry and frustrated as she was, she didn’t want to leave in a trail of tears.
Maybe she could take advantage of her meeting with Dr. Campbell and get a position with the Academy Project. Though, probably, they wouldn’t hire her once they learned what had happened. But she had nothing to lose.
Jolie Peters, a data-scan specialist, was outside in the corridor. “Hi, Hutch,” she said.
That meant she probably hadn’t heard yet. You don’t do jokes with somebody who’s just been terminated. She said hello, took the elevator down, walked past more offices on the main deck, and went out into the concourse. A couple of hundred tourists were wandering around, looking out through the portals, filling the gift shops and the restaurants and the game centers. Maybe Frank had been right, maybe she should have stayed out of it. Done what she was told.
But she was still too close to the people caught in
the lander to assume that it was okay to take chances, not worry too much about the details, just have faith that everything would be all right.
She went into one of the game centers and spent half an hour shooting down space invaders. They were evil-looking creatures with enormous eyes and crocodile snouts, and they kept landing in gravity-defying saucers and emerging in walking tripods, like the ones in H. G. Wells. She had never played the game before, had in fact not bothered much with shoot-out games after she got past twelve years old. But on that occasion she took considerable pleasure in mowing stuff down.
* * *
SHE STAYED AWAY from the Cockpit that evening. And the Skyview. Best, if she wanted to eat alone, was probably the North Star, which mostly served tourists. It was pricey, but she owed herself a good meal. She ordered turkey and mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce and carrots, added a glass of burgundy, and ate by candlelight. There was music, of course, and a handsome young man tried to pick her up. He could not have chosen a worse night.
She had a second glass of burgundy, drank it slowly, and wondered when she’d be back. If she’d be back.
She was not ready to return to her hotel room, so she walked the concourse, lost in regret, and hardly noticed when she passed the North Star again. The concourse was circular, somewhat more than five kilometers around. She wondered what Jake was doing. Imagined what her mother’s reaction would be when she heard the news. Speculated about whether anything would have been different had she been able to get the Baumbachner out through the launch doors. Her father would have been disappointed in her getting fired. Or no, maybe he wouldn’t. He’d have been proud of her. Do the right thing regardless of consequences. It had been his mantra. Don’t get caught up in the bureaucracy. Sometimes, you just have to take your chances.
She stopped in one of the viewport lobbies and looked down at Earth. They were over the Atlantic. Nothing but ocean down there, illuminated by starlight. The station was on the dark side of the planet, and there was no moon. She thought how nice it would be to buy a cabin cruiser and go to sea for a year or two. Pity she wasn’t wealthy.
* * *
IT WAS GOING to be a long night. She arrived back at her apartment, thinking about the time she’d spent on the Copperhead, waiting while they tried to ride out the fragmented rescue attempt. Then, she’d been distracted by the presence of the girls. And the truth was that she’d never been able to accept the idea that somebody would not survive even after she knew the numbers wouldn’t work. Somehow, there’d been a sense that someone would show up, charge in while there was still time. She hadn’t believed any other outcome was possible until she saw Joshua in the cargo bay.
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