by Allen Steele
“There’s another?” Jorge glanced at the others. Inez and Melissa were just as bewildered as he was. Only Sawyer seemed to know what Edgar was talking about. “Sorry, Mr. President, but I never heard about…”
“KX-1.” Sawyer’s voice was vaguely amused. “Have you forgotten your history, Lieutenant?” Before Jorge could reply, Sawyer clasped his hands together upon the table. “Back in 2288, when the European Alliance was first experimenting with hyperspace travel, they built a prototype starbridge in orbit around Eris, a Kuiper Belt plutoid.” Seeing the expression on Jorge’s face, he rolled his eyes. “The region of dwarf planets on the outer fringes of Earth’s solar system. Don’t they teach you kids anything these days?”
Jorge let it go. Arguing with Sawyer was usually a no-win proposition. “I remember now,” Inez said, speaking up for the first time. “Wasn’t that the one used by the Galileo when it set out to explore Spindrift?”
“Right you are.” Sawyer grinned, then nodded to Melissa. “You must have good schools in The Sanctuary.” Melissa smiled back at him, and Sawyer went on. “Yes, that’s the one…and, of course”—another glance at Jorge—“that’s the expedition that led to our first contact with the hjadd.”
“And the rest is history.” Apparently annoyed to find himself momentarily forgotten, Edgar pointedly cleared his throat. “KX-1 was abandoned after that. After all, it was only an experimental model and didn’t need to be used again. But it was still functional, and so…”
A pause, then he gave an offhand shrug, as if this was only a minor issue. “Well, it seems someone finally remembered it. And since the hjadd had only shut down access to Starbridge Earth, it was possible for the access code for our own starbridge to be modified, thereby allowing a ship to use KX-1 to make the jump to 47 Uma.”
“Of course!” Jorge laughed out loud. “If you still have a key, then you could deconstruct the code, remove the coordinates for Starbridge Earth, and substitute the ones for KX-1. That way, you’d have a way of opening a wormhole between Eris and Coyote.”
“Very good, Lieutenant.” A condescending smile from the president. “Yes, that’s exactly what was done.”
Apparently Jorge had just saved the Corps’ reputation, because he received an approving nod from Sawyer, but another thought occurred to him. “But…sorry, sir, I still don’t get it. Why did it take so long for someone on Earth to figure that out? I mean, it’s been almost twenty years.”
“There’s a reason for this, yes…and that brings us to the rest of the story.” The president started to reach for the com patch on his shirt, then stopped himself. “Before we go on, though, there are a few things you should know. First, I want to remind you…just in case you’ve forgotten…that this matter is classified and should not be discussed with any outside this room.”
“I’ve already informed them of that, Mr. President,” Sawyer murmured.
“Very good.” Edgar barely glanced his way. “Second…for the time being, at least, you’re not to identify yourselves as members of the Corps of Exploration. This includes addressing one another by rank, calling each other ‘sir,’ anything like that. Until I say otherwise, you’re here as civilian consultants, with no other governmental or military ties whatsoever.” He looked at Melissa. “Same goes for the Order. For purposes of this meeting, it simply doesn’t exist. Likewise, your special…um, talent.”
“Understood, sir,” Melissa said. “It won’t be mentioned.”
“Yes, but”—again, the president raised a finger—“I’d like for you to use them anyway. For the person you’ll soon meet, that is. I want to know if he’s telling the truth.”
Edgar appeared reluctant to make this request. Jorge wondered if this was the first time he’d ever met someone from the Order of the Eye, let alone enlisted their aid. Melissa simply nodded, though, and the president went on. “Finally…and this is most important of all…I don’t want you, or anyone else here, to acknowledge your relationship with the chaaz’maha.”
“Sir?” Inez stared at him. “Mr. President, I don’t know if you’ve been told this, but he’s…”
“Your father.” Edgar gave her an impatient nod. “I’m aware of that. And I’m sure you want to know whether he’s still alive. But on this one point, you have to restrain yourself. The person you’re about to meet must not know…or at least not for now…that you’re his daughter. Am I perfectly clear?”
Baffled, the others looked at one another. No one objected, though, and that was enough to satisfy the president. He touched his patch. “Sergeant, please bring in our guest.”
A few moments passed, then the door opened, and a blueshirt escorted a short, slightly overweight man into the room. In his midfifties by Gregorian reckoning, his short dark hair threaded with grey, he wore a Federation Navy jumpsuit that didn’t quite fit; Jorge figured that it had probably been given to him sometime in the last couple of days. Although he appeared to have already met Edgar, he regarded the other people in the room with suspicion, uncertain of who they were or why they were there.
“Good morning, Captain. Please have a seat.” Edgar gestured to a chair at the other end of the table. The blueshirt left, closing the door behind him. “Gentlemen, ladies…Captain Sergio Vargas of the Union Astronautica.”
“Not anymore.” A quick smile from Vargas as he sat down. “With all due respect, Mr. President, I haven’t held that rank in many years…at least not since the Western Hemisphere Union collapsed.”
“My apologies.” Edgar nodded toward the hologram of the Guevara, still suspended above the table. “But your ship…doesn’t it have WHU markings?”
“Only because someone neglected to remove them from the hull.” Obviously nervous, Vargas fidgeted in his seat, not quite knowing what to do with his hands. “As I’ve already informed you and your people, sir, the Union Astronautica hasn’t existed in nineteen years.” He shrugged. “I took what I was able to get, and that was The Heroism of Che Guevara.”
“Interesting name,” Jorge murmured. “Who was Che Guevara?”
Sawyer ignored him. “You stole your vessel?”
“Yes. The Guevara was a decommissioned Jovian freighter dry-docked at Highgate, on its way to a lunar junkyard. I managed to get it refueled, and once I transferred my nav key to its comp, I took off for Eris.”
“You got all the way to Eris in that?” Jorge was hardly an expert in astronautics, but he knew just enough to be incredulous. “Pardon me, but I’m…”
“Mr. Montero.” Edgar gave him an admonishing look, and Jorge shut up. The president returned his attention to Vargas. “Let me introduce you. Mr. Montero, Ms. Torres, Ms. Sanchez, and Mr. Lee are from the history and sociology departments of the University of New Florida. I’ve asked them to be here as consultants.”
Jorge hid his grin behind a raised hand. His mother was a faculty member; she would’ve been amused to hear her son identified as a professor. The others managed to keep straight faces as they murmured greetings. Vargas appeared to accept Edgar’s explanation although Jorge noticed that he gave Melissa more than a passing glance.
“Pleased to meet you all.” Vargas looked at Jorge. “To answer your question…yes, I know it sounds hard to believe, but I did get to KX-1 in that craft. The Guevara is designed to make a round-trip to Jupiter and back without refueling. Eris is considerably farther away, of course…70.5 AUs from Earth…but once I got the ship up to cruise velocity, I set the autopilot for automatic braking and rendezvous, then put myself in the emergency biostasis cell.” A smug grin, as if all this had been easily accomplished. “Sixty-two days later, just before the ship reached Eris, the comp woke me up, and I went about reactivating the starbridge.”
“Still, you must have taken a terrific risk,” Sawyer said. “Even with a Jovian freighter, you must have exhausted your reserves getting there. Especially if you got it up to cruise speed.”
Vargas nodded. “Yes, sir, that’s true. I ran the main engine at its maximum rating of 200,000 ips to achieve a vel
ocity of 2,000 kilometers per second…a lot to expect from the old bird, to be sure, and you’re correct in that I used up all my fuel. But I knew I wasn’t going home, though, so I figured I could do that.”
“You meant to take a one-way trip?” Melissa raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “You must have been desperate.”
“Yes, I was.” Again, he stared directly at her…and this time, Jorge noticed it was Melissa’s turn to become uneasy. “Excuse me, but who did you say you are?”
Before she could respond, the president butted in. “I understand that you managed to acquire a starbridge key, along with its hyperspace codes. How did you do that?”
Vargas reluctantly looked away from Melissa. “I’ve told you these things already, Mr. President, but I expect you want me to repeat it for the benefit of…”
“Yes, please. I figured that you could explain it better than I could.”
“Very well.” A shrug, then Vargas went on. “When I was in the UA, I was the captain of a lunar freighter…The Legend of Simon Bolivar, one of the vessels that brought Union refugees here.” A wry grin. “So this isn’t the first time I’ve made the jump to Coyote. In fact, it’s my third trip…the only difference is that, this time, I used a different ship and didn’t have any crew or passengers.”
“So you used the key that once operated the Bolivar’s nav comp?” Sawyer asked.
“Yes. Before the Bolivar was grounded for good…that was after it failed to make the final jump to Coyote, the day your starbridge was destroyed…I removed the key and took it with me.” Vargas let out his breath. “I’d learned what happened here before anyone else did, and although I figured that there was little chance your starbridge would be rebuilt, I decided to take the key on the off-chance that I might be able to use it again.”
“Just a moment.” Inez had been quiet until then. “Something you just said, about knowing what happened before anyone else did. What did you mean by that?”
Vargas regarded her with much the same curiosity he’d given her mother. “My ship…the Bolivar, that is…was scheduled to make the jump to Coyote when our starbridge went down. Because of that, my crew and I were the ones who recovered the lifeboat with the chaaz’maha aboard. So it was from him that I learned…”
A quiet gasp from Melissa. Her face had gone pale, and she clutched the armrests of her chair so hard that the knuckles of her fingers were white. “You…you actually spoke to…?”
“Yes, I did. Along with a doctor who happened to be aboard, I was the first person to meet him.” Vargas looked sharply at President Edgar. “Who is this woman?”
Edgar’s mouth became taut. “As I said, she’s from the university…”
“No.” Vargas pointed toward Melissa. “You said her name is Sanchez. The chaaz’maha has always said that he’d had a wife named Melissa Sanchez.” His finger turned toward Inez. “He also said that, just a few days before he left Coyote, she gave birth to their daughter…Inez, if I remember her name correctly. Your age is about right, I think…would that be you?”
“Sir, you are mistaken.” Edgar’s face had gone pale. “Ms. Sanchez and Ms. Torres are…”
“No.” Inez’s voice was quiet, yet it interrupted the president as surely as if she’d shouted. “You’re right. I’m Inez Sanchez, and this is my mother, Melissa…and yes, she’s the partner of the chaaz’maha, and I’m his daughter.”
The president scowled but didn’t say anything. Caught in a lie, he apparently realized that further denial was pointless. Sergio Vargas stared at the two women; although he’d been proven correct, he was unable to speak. Indeed, he appeared to be awestruck by their presence.
“Thank you for telling us that Hawk…the chaaz’maha, that is…is still alive,” Melissa said. “And I’m grateful to you for having rescued him.” As she spoke, she took her daughter’s hand. “For the last nineteen years, we’ve assumed that he perished aboard the Lee. I’m glad…we’re glad…to learn otherwise.”
Vargas sank back in his chair, nodding but remaining silent. Inez stared at him. “I don’t understand,” she said after a moment. “You’re not pleased by this, are you? In fact, your feelings about my father are rather hostile.”
“Inez…” Sawyer began.
“So that part’s true, too.” Vargas finally found his voice; his eyes narrowed as he returned Inez’s stare. “We’ve known for a long time that the chaaz’maha is a telepath, and he told his followers that his wife was, too.”
“I’m not his wife, but rather his partner.” Melissa smiled slightly. “I’m glad to hear that he considered me as such, though.”
“Yes, well…you know that already, don’t you?” There was a bitter undertone in Vargas’s response. “What else have you two found out about me? Or should I even ask?”
“My daughter isn’t a telepath. I can read minds, but only when I care to do so.” Melissa shook her head. “When I tell you that I haven’t probed your thoughts, you can believe that I’m telling the truth.”
Jorge didn’t know whether she was lying, but although there was still distrust in Vargas’s eyes, the pilot slowly nodded. “I suppose I don’t have a choice, do I? And I suppose it would be unfair of me to blame either of you for what the chaaz’maha has done.” His gaze flickered toward Inez. “Particularly not you. You never knew him at all.”
“What are you talking about?” Her eyes widened.
“Oh, c’mon.” Vargas closed his eyes, shook his head. “Do you think I stole a freighter and risked my life coming all the way out here just because I felt like it?” He looked at Melissa again. “I’m sorry to say this, but if I could do it all over again, I would’ve left that goddamn lifeboat where I found it. Maybe even rammed it.”
Melissa hissed beneath her breath, while Inez gazed at him with astonishment. “Mr. Vargas, you’re way out of line,” Sawyer growled. “If you don’t shut up…”
“Why should I?” Vargas barely looked his way. “I don’t know what you people think of the chaaz’maha, but where I come from, he’s been nothing but trouble. That damned religion of his has been the worst thing to happen to us since…well, everything else that’s happened…and we would have been better off if he’d never set foot on Earth.” He hesitated. “Of course, I’m partly to blame for that,” he added. “Not only did I rescue him, but I actually helped bring him home. Was that a mistake…”
“Why?” Jorge couldn’t help himself; he had to know the reasons for this man’s hostility.
“And who are you? Another one of his followers?”
“No.” Jorge felt the president’s eyes upon him, but there was no point in keeping up the charade. “My name’s Jorge Montero, and I’m Hawk Thompson’s…the chaaz’maha’s…cousin.” Before Vargas could reply, he went on. “What’s he done that’s caused you to hate him so much?”
Vargas gazed around the table, studying his inquisitors as much they studied him. “Look,” he said at last, raising his hands, “I’m not trying to pick a fight. All I’m saying is that, back where I come from, the chaaz’maha took a bad situation and, just when we were beginning to pull ourselves out of it, made things worse. Hell, he’s even withdrawn our colonies from the outer planets, brought everyone back to Earth. That’s why I had to steal the Guevara…no one’s going out past Mars now, let alone Eris.”
“So that’s why no one used KX-1 until now?” Jorge asked.
“That’s right.” Vargas shook his head. “Oh, no, it wasn’t forgotten, just as Starbridge Earth is still usable. It’s only that the chaaz’maha told everyone to leave them alone.”
“Sounds as if his word carries a lot of weight,” Edgar murmured.
“You could say that, yes.” Vargas’s voice was dry with sarcasm. “Not that we needed a messiah, but that’s exactly what he set himself up to be. Now he’s got a whole lot of people believing this crap…”
“Sa’Tong, you mean.”
“I mean Sa’Tong.” Vargas’s lips curled in distaste. “Started as a cult…and if it ha
d only stayed that way, I wouldn’t have any problem with it. But now it’s become a full-blown religion, with more people getting involved with it every day, and that’s just the last thing we…”
“Where is he?” Melissa was becoming impatient with him. “Where is the chaaz’maha?”
“You want to find him, don’t you?” A humorless smile crossed Vargas’s face. “Good. Maybe you’ll go back and get him. That would be a blessing…”
“Cut it out.” Sawyer was also losing patience. “Just tell us where he is.”
“Last time I heard, he was in Boston.” An indifferent shrug, as if Vargas couldn’t have cared less. “He gets around a lot, so no one is ever sure where he’s going to show up next, but I understand that he’s spent a lot of time there.”
“That’s rather vague, isn’t it?” Edgar asked.
“Best I can do…but don’t ask me to lead you there.” Clasping his hands together, Vargas leaned back in his seat. “It took years for me to pull off my getaway, and I’m in no hurry to go back. Especially not to Boston…not the safest place in the world, if you know what I mean.”
“Regardless, it’s in our interests to find him.” Edgar turned to Sawyer. “This is your area, General,” he continued, apparently abandoning the pretense that anyone in the room was affiliated with the university. “I want you to see about sending an expedition to Earth as soon as possible, with the express purpose of locating the chaaz’maha and bringing him back home.” He nodded toward Vargas. “I’m sure our guest will be willing to provide you with whatever assistance you need…won’t you, Mr. Vargas?”
Vargas seemed dubious about this proposal, but apparently he’d realized that his future rested upon cooperating with the government; he nodded, albeit reluctantly. The president turned to Inez. “No doubt you’ll be interested in participating in such an expedition, Corporal”—she quietly nodded as well—“so I’ll put you under the general’s command. You’ll be relieved of all other…um, assignments…for the time being.”
“Sir?” Jorge raised a hand. “I’d like to be in on this, too, if I may.” He glanced at Sawyer and Inez. “Unless you have any objections, that is.”