Penumbra

by Eric Brown

  ‘I’ve heard about how you saved the Northrop, Bennett. Impressive piece of piloting. Saved . . . how many crew? Ten? And valuable cargo.’

  Bennett shrugged. He hated it when people dragged out the old Northrop episode. ‘It was a long time ago,’ he said. ‘Getting on for twelve years.’

  In truth, he knew how lucky he’d been when the Northrop’s guidance system had packed up and he’d brought the ship down on manual. The weather conditions had been perfect and he’d had no time in which to panic.

  ‘Quit the modesty, Bennett. You were a hero. If it wasn’t for you, the ship would’ve smacked the tarmac good.’

  ‘I think that whoever was on duty then would have done the same as me.’

  ‘We’ll never know - because theyweren’t on duty then. But you were. And you pulled out all the stops.’

  It had been a strange time, the days following the near accident. The press coverage, the approbation of the Redwood high-ups . . . But his father had brought him down to earth. ‘It’s truly amazing what the involuntary responses are capable of when one’s life is under threat. . .’ It was his only comment on the affair, and Bennett had not forgotten his sense of crushing disappointment. All he’d wanted was a handshake and a simple, ‘Well done.’

  They strolled around the starship, chatting casually about every aspect of space flight and exploration. If this was a preliminary interview, Bennett felt that it was going well.

  ‘Do you have any idea why Mackendrick wanted to interview me?’ he asked. ‘He mentioned something about a project.’

  The engineer pursed his lips, considering. ‘I do know that this ship’s due out in two or three days, bound for an unexplored quadrant of the galaxy.’

  Bennett smiled to himself. The kid in him would have loved the story-book adventure aspect of the ‘project’ . . .

  At the far end of the pit, a woman emerged from one of the pre-fab offices and picked her way between discarded ion-drives and honeycomb radiation baffles. She paused beneath the gantry and looked up. ‘Mr Mackendrick, there’s a call for you.’

  The engineer signalled down. ‘I’ll take it up here.’

  He glanced at Bennett, as if to judge how he’d taken the deception, then moved off along the gantry.

  Bennett watched him take a communicator from his breast pocket and begin a rapid dialogue, less annoyed than mystified by Mackendrick’s duplicity.

  The engineer he’d been talking to bore little resemblance to the man who had contacted him last night. The engineer was slight, thin-faced and balding, whereas the earlier Mackendrick had been broad and stocky, with a full head of grey curls. But, as Bennett studied the man speaking into the communicator, he discerned in the lines of the aged face a likeness to the Mackendrick of last night. It was as if he’d shed fifty pounds overnight, and aged thirty years.

  Mackendrick returned the communicator to his pocket and rejoined Bennett. He held out his hand. ‘Mackendrick,’ he said. ‘Call me Mack, though.’ He regarded Bennett intently. ‘I hope my little game didn’t offend you?’

  Bennett shrugged. ‘I suppose you get a kick from playing the engineer?’

  Mackendrick laughed. ‘I don’t make a habit of it, Bennett. But my reputation precedes me. People aren’t themselves in the company of the billionaire director of the Mackendrick Foundation. They act, put on a show. I wanted to talk to you before you knew who I was.’ He peered at Bennett, one eye screwed shut. ‘I suppose you’re wondering who called you last night?’

  ‘Some kind of computer-enhanced image,’ Bennett guessed, ‘perhaps taken from a shot of you twenty years ago?’

  ‘Right, Bennett. Or almost. Not twenty years ago - five. Why do you think I quit active exploration five years ago? It was my damned life, Bennett. Then wham! and I’m flat on my back in hospital with some damned viral complaint and my surgeons are running around like headless chickens thinking I’m going to kick it there and then. Well, they pulled me round - I pulled me round - but it left me looking like shit. And call me vain or egocentric or whatever the hell, but I didn’t want Dan Redwood or Patel or any other of those bastards rubbing their hands and thinking I’m losing it, so I conference now via the com-link, and I look like a million dollars.’

  Bennett listened to Mackendrick and knew he should have felt awed in the presence of the eccentric tycoon, but the fact was that something about the man put Bennett at ease.

  ‘Can I ask you something, Mr Mackendrick?’

  ‘Fire away. And it’s Mack, for Chrissake.’

  ‘What’s going on here? I mean, why me?’

  ‘Why you? Because you’re a good pilot—’

  ‘Redwood suspended me yesterday—’

  ‘Redwood!’ Mackendrick almost spat the name. ‘Listen to me.’

  He clapped Bennett’s shoulder and led him on a lap of the gantry. Bennett found the intimacy of the gesture at once intimidating and confiding.

  ‘What I’m telling you here is strictly confidential, between you and me. The simple fact is that you and Ten Lee were fall guys. Redwood have a deal ongoing with Consolidated Colonial for three hundred Viper-class tugs and shuttles, and their operating systems. The deal’s worth billions. But, you see, the Viper’s operating systems are shot. There’s a major glitch in there that their computer whiz-kids can’t work out.’

  ‘You sound pretty sure about that.’

  ‘Pretty sure? Listen, kid, I’m one hundred per cent sure. I know. I have spies in Redwood. I know more about what’s happening in the computer labs than Dan Redwood himself, because my spies’ll tell me, but his men are shit scared of telling him the truth. That the programming systems are crap and if Consolidated Colonial gets wind of the stink, then the billion-plus deal is off.’

  ‘So the other day . . . ?’

  Mackendrick was nodding. ‘You almost total the tug, and a starship into the bargain, and you swear it’s an operating system, but does Control listen? You bet your ass they don’t. It’s Bennett and Theneka with red faces before the disciplinary committee, and believe me, if you stayed with Redwood you’d be kicked so far away from the Vipers your butts would still be smarting come Christmas.’ He waved a hand in a disgusted gesture. ‘Screw Redwood. My people’ve been telling me for years that you’re a damned good pilot, so when the opportunity arose, I took it.’

  They paused beside the twin exhaust vents of the Schulmann-Dearing boosters. Mackendrick leaned against the rail, staring down into the pit.

  ‘You mentioned a project?’ Bennett said.

  Mackendrick nodded, glanced at him. ‘How would you like to pilot the Cobra here, interstellar?’

  Bennett wondered if his sudden sweat was wholly a result of the sun. ‘Exactly where to?’

  Mackendrick looked at him. ‘We’re heading so far across sidereal space, Bennett, that it’s totally off the usual exploration vector.’

  Bennett had a dozen questions he wanted to ask, all at once.

  ‘I’m interested,’ he said. ‘But why me? You’ve got a hundred pilots just as qualified—’

  ‘That’s debatable, Bennett. I wanted someone who’s good in the gravity well, in adverse weather conditions. Your handling of the Northrop back in sixty-eight proved you’re more than capable.’

  ‘When’s the planned flight date?’

  ‘Later,’ Mackendrick said. ‘I’ll answer that and any other questions when the systems analyst arrives. I’ll go through the project then and we can talk it over.’ He glanced at this watch. ‘She’s due pretty soon. In the meantime, how about coffee?’

  He led the way back down the gantry and across the pit to the line of offices. Bennett followed Mackendrick into a plush chamber fitted with mock-wood panelling and hung with moving 3D images of planetary panoramas. The tycoon gestured to a suite of sofas and prepared the coffee. Bennett sat down, noticing as he did so a pillow and blanket stuffed into a storage unit against the far wall. So Mackendrick, like the workaholic of repute, slept in situ while working in the compound.


  On a desk in the corner of the room was a pix showing a younger and healthier Mackendrick with a striking Indian woman in a sari. Mackendrick was cradling a baby in his arms, something proud and proprietorial in his pose.

  Mackendrick passed Bennett a cup of coffee and lowered himself into an armchair.

  ‘I heard about your father,’ Mackendrick said. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘News travels fast.’

  ‘I have my contacts.’ He paused. ‘I take it you weren’t close?’

  Bennett smiled. ‘That’s something of an understatement. We didn’t see eye to eye, I suppose you might say. On anything.’

  ‘Join the club,’ Mackendrick said, indicating a pix on the wall above the desk. It showed a suited, middle-aged man clutching the hand of a small, stocky boy on the steps of some imposing building. ‘My father, Alistair Mackendrick, founder of the foundation. Now he, Bennett, was a bastard of the first water. He wanted me to join him in academe, but I wasn’t having it. You don’t know how satisfying it was to open the foundation up to the actual exploration of space, not just the theory.’

  Bennett sipped his coffee, wondering if Mackendrick’s little speech was another trick to win him over. His gaze wandered back to the pix of Mackendrick and the Indian woman. The tycoon noticed.

  ‘Naheed, my wife,’ he said. ‘We met while I was working at the Calcutta shipyards. She was the daughter of a well-to-do merchant. I never believed until then that I could fall in love. Didn’t believe I had it in me, and was determined to remain single. And the thought of having children . . .’ He paused and smiled sadly. ‘It’s amazing how your views change when you meet someone you feel you want to be with for the rest of your life.’

  Bennett recalled no mention of his wife in the biographical essay he’d read that morning.

  Mackendrick looked from the pix to Bennett. ‘Naheed died almost thirteen years ago,’ he said quietly. ‘Leukaemia. There was nothing we could do. For all my wealth . . .’

  Bennett looked away from the tycoon. To change the subject he indicated the pix and said, ‘You had a son?’

  ‘A daughter. Sita.’ Mackendrick shook his head. ‘Sadly, I no longer see her.’

  Perhaps, Bennett thought, this explained Mackendrick’s single-minded dedication to his work.

  Mackendrick looked up, through the window overlooking the pit. ‘And at last the tardy analyst decides to honour us,’ he said.

  A small figure, reduced by the distance, was making its way down the zig-zag steps. Minutes later Mackendrick’s secretary knocked and opened the door. A tiny woman in a bright red flight-suit, barefoot as on the first occasion Bennett had made her acquaintance, stepped into the room.

  ‘Ten Lee . . .’ Bennett said.

  ‘Joshua.’ The Viet-Zambian inclined her head but did not smile. ‘Mack told me last night that I might be working with you again, if you decided to join us. I resigned from Redwood immediately.’

  Bennett nodded. ‘I just might be joining you.’

  He was surprised again by her diminutive stature. As she stood before him, her head barely reached his sternum. A small rucksack was strapped to her shoulders, its weight giving her back the pert curve of a reed.

  ‘We need a first-rate analyst along,’ Mackendrick was saying. ‘My people recommended Ten Lee. How about coffee, Ten? A refill, Josh?’

  While Mackendrick busied himself at the percolator, Bennett said to Ten Lee, ‘It’s good to see you again.’

  Ten Lee blinked up at him, her expression blank. It seemed to take her a while to consider her reply. ‘Yesterday I told you that my Rimpoche stated that my destiny was ever outward, Josh. It seems that he was right. When Mack contacted me last night, I had no hesitation in accepting his offer.’

  ‘Has he told you where exactly we’re going?’

  ‘Only that it is further than any exploration vessel has gone before. It will give me plenty of time to meditate.’

  Bennett smiled. ‘I think the ship’ll be fitted with suspension units, Ten.’

  ‘Since when was their use declared obligatory, Joshua?’

  ‘Touché. But rather you than me.’

  She gazed up at him, her thoughts unreadable behind the mask of her expressionless features. ‘Perhaps a period of contemplation would do you good,’ she said. .

  ‘Well, maybe . . .’ Bennett shrugged. ‘What’s in the rucksack?’

  ‘My possessions. A change of flight-suit. Toiletries. And the Book of Meditation, the Bhao Khet book of philosophy.’

  ‘You travel light,’ Bennett said.

  She inclined her head. ‘We all begin the journey light, Josh, but some of us burden ourselves on the way.’

  Bennett gave a slow nod of feigned understanding. ‘Right, Ten.’

  Mackendrick passed them cups of coffee. ‘Now that you’re here, Ten, we can get down to business. As I’ve already mentioned, we’re lighting into uncharted space. The fourth quadrant, and, to be even more precise, the Rim. If you’d care to sit down I’ll show you some video and computer imagery.’

  While Mackendrick tapped the touch-pad of the com-screen on his desk. Bennett eased himself on to the sofa. Ten Lee took off her rucksack and sat cross-legged on the floor. Mackendrick sat side-saddle on the edge of his desk, as his computer-enhanced alter ego had done last night. On the screen beside him was the still image of an unfamiliar solar system.

  ‘A few years ago one of my uncrewed reconnaissance ships relayed some footage from a star system known only as G5/13. It was the furthest any vessel, from any line, had ventured, by some thousand or so light years. As you might know, the remit of the Expansion, which makes sense in the circumstances, is to explore space in an ever-widening cone along the spiral arm. This is merely in the interest of economic viability - it’s good business sense to open colony worlds closer to known, inhabited space.’

  Mackendrick paused.

  ‘I like to do things differently. Call me a maverick, but I don’t like running with the herd. There’s all the sprawling universe out there, and I’m damned if I’m going to restrict myself to crawling around in our back yard like some helpless ant. So I take risks. I send out ships where other companies are too scared to go. Sometimes I draw a big fat blank. Sometimes I come up trumps. Some of my most successful ventures have discovered planets rich in valuable ores and metals, plant life indispensable in the production of pharmaceuticals. Over the years I’ve always gone that little bit further.

  ‘As I said, one of my ships started sending interesting footage back from the Rim. The ship received information from one of its probes, processed it and relayed the results back to our receiving station on Mars. This is what one probe discovered.’

  He turned and tapped the touch-pad. The scene began rolling, speeded up faster than real-time. It showed the system from the point of view of the survey probe. Icebound outer planets flashed by. Then came a collection of smaller Earth-sized planets, orbiting their primary at a distance of some twenty million miles, according to Mackendrick. The angle of approach turned, veering off towards the sun and a gas giant that rapidly filled the screen. The banded stripes of blue and green gaseous light filled the room with an aqueous glow.

  Mackendrick paused the film.

  Bennett leaned forward. ‘A gas giant?’ he said. Why would the survey probe find a gas giant of particular interest?

  Mackendrick smiled. ‘I’ve named it Tenebrae,’ he said, ‘but it’s not the planet I’m interested in. The planet in question is hidden by Tenebrae’s bulk, almost indiscernible in this shot.’ He pointed to a small disc, a coin held at arm’s length, silhouetted against the broad, bright bulk of the gas giant. ‘I’ve called the world Penumbra, for obvious reasons. Watch.’

  The film continued, speeding up as the probe fell towards the tiny planet. Soon the planet filled the screen: a cloud-whipped, pale mauve world which resolved itself, as the probe plummeted through a storm-racked atmosphere, into a landscape of mountains and plains and long blue lake
s, the vegetation predominantly a covering of purple and violet grassland and forest.

  ‘The following footage is edited from over four hours of reconnaissance, so it’s jerky and unconsecutive. The planet is prone to violent storms, which accounts for the poor quality of some of the shots. Also, the planet is predominantly in the shadow of Tenebrae, which radiates only about a third of the light of our own sun. Hence Penumbra. We should see the features of interest in a minute or two.’

  Bennett sat forward, his curiosity piqued.

  The rilled and rucked surface of the land, where foothills buttressed high mountains, passed beneath the eye of the probe. A valley flashed by, and Mackendrick paused the film. At first Bennett could see nothing, and then he made out two rows of orderly shapes in the valley bottom. Mackendrick magnified the image, and Bennett told himself that the shapes were clearly buildings.