Echo (20 page)

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Authors: Jack McDevitt

Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #Adventure, #Fiction

BOOK: Echo
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“On approach to Skydeck. Just passing through. Won’t get time to stop. I’m here to check some details on a cargo flight. Going back out with them in a few hours.”
She pushed her dark hair back.
“You look good, Chase.”
I loved Yolanda. I couldn’t imagine those early years without her. “I suspect,” I said, “we could still clear the tables at Wally’s.” The bar we used to hit when we were seniors.
“Oh, yes,”
she said.
“We need to do a rerun before you get married, sweetheart.”
“What makes you think I’m getting married?”
“You’ve got that look. Is it going to be Robin?”
We did some more girl talk before she came to the point.
“Chase, New Dallas is going to be hiring two pilots this month. When I heard about it, I immediately thought of you.”
She flashed that big smile that had never changed.
“They pay pretty well.”
I pretended to think it over. Didn’t want to reject the idea out of hand. “I don’t think so, Yolanda,” I said finally. “I have a good situation here.”
“Okay, Chase. You know, you’d have some upward mobility, which you probably don’t have with Alex. And, with a little luck, we might be able to manage some time together.”
“That part of it would be nice. But I’m really not ready to make a change.”
She hesitated. The smile faded, and was replaced by concern, the way she used to look when she disapproved of a guy I was going out with.
“All right. I’d thought—”
“What, Yolanda?”
“That you’d be anxious to get away.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Never mind, Chase. Let it go.”
“Seriously: What were you about to say?”
“Well, life with Alex must be stressful. You never say anything, but I can see it sometimes in your eyes.”
“Yolanda, I have no idea what we’re talking about.”
“Okay. Look, I know you and he have made major contributions. And I wouldn’t take anything away from that—”
“But—?”
“But, you know what Alex’s reputation is in the academic world. He’s a
looter
, Chase. You know that as well as I do. I just thought maybe you’d want to get clear. It doesn’t help your reputation either, you know what I mean?”
“No,” I said. “I’m fine. I like working for him.”
“Okay. No offense. Anyhow, I expect to be back during the summer. Maybe we can get together then?”
PART II
Parties in Flight
FOURTEEN
The human race will never make peace with itself. The reason for that is not ongoing tribal instincts, as some would have it, but the sheer joy of wreaking destruction. The pleasure one gets from building, say, a town hall, does not approach the exhilaration to be had from blowing it apart. I don’t know why that is, nor can I advance an evolutionary rationale. It is something we do not talk about. But I will confess that my one great regret in life is that I have gone through so many years and never had an opportunity to drop a bomb on something.
—Timothy Zhin-Po,
Night Thoughts
 
 
 
 
 
THE BROCKMAIER FAMILY GOLDEN ANNIVERSARY RECORD, 1399
 
Alex and I watched them toast the golden couple, watched the Brockmaiers and their friends and relatives dance the night away in a trendy dining hall, while a band played and toasts were offered. The happy couple wandered the floor, shaking hands, embracing friends and relatives, posing for pictures. They were surrounded by children and grandchildren. The holo included an attachment that would have allowed us to identify everybody had we been of a mind to do so.
Hugo Brockmaier was a corporate lawyer, and obviously a guy who ate too much. He sported a well-maintained beard, wore a smile that might have been pasted on, and spoke with precision and point, as if every word were significant. Wisdom for the ages.
His wife Mira was, other than the children, possibly the most diminutive person in the room. But I’d have bet she was one of those people who worked out every day. She wore a flowing white gown that contrasted with her dark skin. She had smooth black hair, so bright it might have been polished, and dark eyes that constantly looked out at me as if she were aware of my presence.
Alex fast-forwarded through the party and the good-byes and the ride to the spaceport. The arrival at Skydeck flickered past. The two celebrants moved laughing and talking through the concourse, and finally we got a look at the
Night Star
, which would take them out to Serendipity, where they’d transfer to the tour ship. “Any indication where they’re going?” I asked.
“Not really. It’s a place World’s End called Celebration. God knows what its catalog number is.”
They reached the boarding area. Mira must have been taking the pictures because mostly we were seeing Hugo. Hugo handing tickets to the agent and getting waved on. Hugo, despite the light gravity, tromping up the ramp and through the hatch. Hugo inspecting the
Night Star
’s lush interior. Hugo shaking hands with other passengers.
We followed them to Dip, which, even though it was thirty years ago, looked better than its current incarnation. Once there, they checked in at the World’s End office, got their tickets, and, a few hours later, boarded the
Mercury
.
Its cabin was big and elegant. Eight seats were spread out, designed so they could be rotated. The backs were adjustable. There was no separate bridge. The pilot operated from a cockpit at the head of the cabin, presumably so the paying customers could watch. His seat and the control panel were on a recessed section located a half meter lower than the passengers’ deck. There was a second seat for a navigator or copilot immediately to his right.
The rear of the cabin opened into a padded passageway, which contained sleeping quarters and washrooms, a workout section, and a combination dining and recreation area.
Four of their fellow passengers were already seated. A tall blond male in a captain’s uniform was running through preflight. He was well along in years, one of those guys with a serene exterior who could reassure you that everything was under control while you were being sucked into a black hole. As another couple came through the hatch, he finished, turned around, and got out of his chair. Hugo was operating the imager, and we watched Mira smile for the captain.
“Welcome aboard, folks,”
the captain said.
“World’s End Tours is pleased to have you along. If there’s anything we can do to make your flight more comfortable, if you need anything at any time, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“The captain,” said Alex, reading from a set of notes that had accompanied the holo, “is Adrian Barnard. He was from Maraluna, and he’s retired.”
“Do we know who the other passengers are?” There were three other couples.
“We have first names, but that’s all.”
Well, it didn’t matter.
 
It was impossible to trace their course. Or even to know how long it took them to get to their destination. They threw several parties en route. When they arrived, everybody applauded. There were pictures of a sun and a set of rings. Mostly, though, we saw Mira looking out the viewport and Hugo sitting in the copilot’s seat. Eventually, we found ourselves looking at a rockscape. Part of an asteroid, probably.
We drifted through the rings and looked down at the surface of a golden gas giant.
Then there were more celebrations. People wore party hats. Hugo offered a toast to a couple, who explained they “
come out here all the time.
”
 
The viewports were unlike any I had seen before. Normally, ships have standard models. But, when Barnard gave the word to April,
Mercury
’s AI, the entire front of the ship became transparent. I understood then that the captain and the control panel were at a lower level so as to keep the view unimpeded for the passengers. It was a breathtaking moment for me, and I was simply watching a hologram. God knows what it was like for the people actually seated in the cabin.
I was still gawking when a robot showed up to serve drinks. Somebody offered a toast to the captain.
They had several more while a bright star appeared in the wraparound.
“Does it have a name, Captain?”
asked one of the passengers.
“Out here, Phil,”
he said,
“almost nothing has a name.”
Most of the passengers went below and boarded a lander. One or two elected to stay where they were. The launch doors opened, and they soared out into a sky that was bright red but had no stars. The engines fired, and they were on their way.
They drifted down to a cratered surface that glowed in the scarlet light. “What’s going on?” asked Alex.
“It’s a cool sun,” I said. “They’re in pretty close.”
The captain gave the AI a direction, and the lander’s overhead simultaneously darkened and rolled back. The bulkheads vanished, and it was as if we were all sitting out on the surface. Everybody was staring up, mouths open, looking at a sky so completely dominated by the sun that nothing else was visible.
 
Later, back in the
Mercury
, they caught up with and rode alongside a comet. The comet had rounded the sun and was heading back out into the deeps of the planetary system. Consequently, the head of the comet was at the rear, its tail blown ahead by the solar wind.
“It
is
inspirational, isn’t it?”
said one of the passengers. I agreed.
The captain touched a switch, and the comet faded to a dim streak. He turned a dial, and we saw an asteroid. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “this is our bullet.”
Their “bullet”? I glanced over at Alex. He signified he had no better idea than I did.
As the passengers watched, the asteroid tumbled slowly through the night.
“Prime real estate,”
said Hugo. Apparently someone else had the imager, because we were looking at both Hugo and Mira. Mira smiled pleasantly at her husband.
“You thinking of moving, dear?”
“How far are we?”
asked one of the women.
“From the comet?”
The captain relayed the question to the AI.
“Ninety-one hundred klicks,”
the AI said. Her voice was that of a middle-aged mother. Best for family outings.
Alex laughed. “She probably has seductive settings, too.” The
Mercury
was behind the asteroid. I couldn’t tell how big the asteroid was because I didn’t know the range. The comet was a few degrees to starboard. And I knew what they were going to do.
The asteroid tumbled slowly through the night. It was like pretty much every other loose rock in the cosmos, lopsided, battered, worn. Been there a long time. But I could sense that the people in the cabin were proud of it. This was
their
asteroid.
 
The essence of any good tour, of course, is that it is a party on wheels. So to speak. They closed in on the rock, and they kept the glasses full.
“It looks like a lonely place,”
said a woman who looked barely out of her teens. Her name was Amy, and she seemed to have a connection with a considerably older man who reminded me of our longtime family physician. They were close enough by then that the asteroid had actually taken on the appearance of a world. Well—a world in miniature, maybe.
Mira said,
“It needs a name.”
They argued for a while, and settled finally on Louie. One of the other women, pale-skinned, with glittering wealth on display, announced that she thought Louie was the perfect name. This was Janet.
“Yes,”
she added,
“I like it.”
They raised their glasses toward the screen. Toward the asteroid.
“Here’s to you, Louie.”
“To Louie,”
said Mira.
“May you make your mark.”
Mira wondered how old Louie was.
The captain lifted his hands. Who knew?
“Couple of billion years, probably. Maybe more than that.”
“It’s beautiful,”
one of the women said.
The captain smiled politely. “Well, that’s what World’s End is all about. We take your breath away.”
 
And they did. The captain got behind the asteroid, maintaining a range of about five kilometers. We watched its broken surface rise in the wraparound. The passengers gasped and laughed and held on to their seats. Shadows moved across the rock as it turned slowly over in the glare of the sun. The captain was enjoying himself. He obviously loved the job. I wondered where he was today.
One of the passengers sent a wistful sigh to the Almighty. And we could still see the comet, its long fiery tail stretching across the stars.

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