Farside (23 page)

“Grant, we’ve found a defect in Winston’s suit,” Aichi said without preamble.

Grant’s chest tightened.

“A defect?”

“Relax,” Aichi said, his expression unchanged. “You couldn’t have seen it when you checked Winston’s suit. Nobody could have, not without a laser probe.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a pinhole leak in the suit’s collar ring. Too small to see with the naked eye, but big enough to slowly leak air out of his helmet. Not enough of a leak for decompression, but enough to asphyxiate him.”

“A pinhole leak?” Grant asked.

Nodding a millimeter or so, Aichi said, “Pinhole. Like the leak that knocked out your superconducting coil.”

DENIAL

Professor Uhlrich sat behind his desk, staring in Grant Simpson’s direction.

“A pinhole leak in his suit’s collar ring?” Uhlrich asked, unbelieving.

“That’s what Aichi and Zacharias found,” said Grant, his voice heavy, morose.

Uhlrich saw an image of Simpson’s darkly bearded face, an image triggered by the sound of his voice. Simpson was the stubborn kind: very capable, but dependent on medications. I can’t run this facility without him, Uhlrich knew, but he can’t function without his drugs. I should find a replacement for him; I shouldn’t be forced into such a dependent position.

McClintock was sitting across the table from Simpson. Uhlrich heard a tinge of sarcasm as the man asked, “And how did a pinhole leak happen?”

For a long moment Simpson did not reply. Uhlrich could visualize the sullenness etched into his brooding face. At last the engineer said, “It might have been produced by nanomachines.”

“Nanomachines?” Uhlrich snapped, instantly alarmed.

“That’s impossible,” said McClintock.

“Is it?” Simpson retorted. “The Mendeleev mirror was built by nanos. The accident happened at Mendeleev.”

A bit more subdued, McClintock said, “Then we’ll have to get Dr. Cardenas here to examine the situation.”

“Damned right,” said Simpson.

“Wait,” Uhlrich said. “We mustn’t jump to wild conclusions. Just because an accident occurred—”

“A man died,” Simpson snapped. “We’ve got to find out why before anybody else is put at risk. We’ve got to halt the mirror construction jobs at Korolev and Gagarin. We’ve got to—”

Uhlrich’s temper flared. “Stop the construction at Korolev and Gagarin! We haven’t even started building the mirrors there!”

“And we shouldn’t start,” Simpson insisted. “Not until we know what’s going on.”

McClintock’s voice took on a more conciliatory tone. “I agree that we ought to investigate the possibility. But we shouldn’t screw up the construction schedules unless we absolutely have to.”

“How many deaths will it take?” Simpson growled.

Uhlrich could picture McClintock’s frosty smile. The man doesn’t confront you, he told himself. He simply sits on top of his money and smiles condescendingly until he gets his way.

McClintock was saying, “You’re getting all worked up over what might be just a maintenance failure.”

“Winston’s death wasn’t the first failure,” Simpson said.

“What do you mean?”

“The tractor problem we had several weeks ago,” said Simpson. “Superconducting motor went dead because the main coil lost its coolant. Through a pinhole leak.”

“Coincidence,” McClintock scoffed.

“Are you willing to bet your life on that?” Simpson replied heatedly. “The lives of everybody in this facility?”

McClintock didn’t reply.

“We’re a closed little community here,” Simpson went on. “If we have some rogue nanos eating into metals we could all be killed in a few days.”

“I can’t believe that,” said Uhlrich. But he knew that he wasn’t speaking the truth. His insides were trembling.

“Famous last words,” Simpson muttered.

“All right, let’s get Dr. Cardenas here,” said McClintock, trying to sound reasonable. “Let her make a determination.”

Simpson said nothing for several moments. At last he agreed, “That’s a start.”

“Very well, then,” said Uhlrich. “I will call her myself.”

“In the meantime, we should stop delivery of the nanos for Korolev and Gagarin.”

“No!” Uhlrich snapped. “That would throw off our schedule.”

His voice hard and unrelenting, Simpson replied, “Professor, we’re months ahead of our original schedule. We’ve got the Mendeleev ’scope up and running already. For god’s sake, don’t put the damned schedule ahead of safety, ahead of people’s lives! We can make up whatever time we lose.”

Uhlrich heard the earnestness in the engineer’s voice, visualized the intensity of his sad-eyed expression. What does he care? the professor asked himself. He’s young, he has a life, a career ahead of him. I’ve only got this one chance, this one last chance.

“I will not upset our schedule,” he said flatly. “If we suspend construction of the mirrors Selene will wonder what’s gone wrong. The university will send people here to pry into our situation. There will be an investigation. The news media will learn of it! It will be a disaster!”

McClintock said, “Perhaps we could distract the news media.”

“Distract?”

“Trudy Yost is going to use the Mendeleev telescope to get imagery of New Earth, isn’t she?”

“Spectra,” Uhlrich corrected. “Not imagery.”

“Besides, Sirius C has already been photographed,” Simpson pointed out.

“I’ve seen those pictures. New Earth is just a little dot, a blob,” McClintock countered. “We can produce much better stuff, can’t we?”

Uhlrich saw a glimmer of opportunity. “If Dr. Yost can detect oxygen in Sirius C’s atmosphere. Or water vapor … perhaps chlorophyll…”

“Whatever,” said McClintock. “We can feed her results to the media. The first close-up imagery from New Earth! They’ll lap it up and ignore whatever else is going on here.”

“Including a death,” Simpson said.

“Accidents happen,” McClintock said. Uhlrich could picture him shrugging. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“Isn’t it?”

McClintock didn’t answer. Instead, he pushed his chair back from the table and started to get to his feet.

Before either of the men could leave his office, Uhlrich said firmly, “There will be no word of a possible nanotechnology problem. Absolutely none. Not to anyone outside this room. Do you understand that? Neither of you is to say a word about this.”

“How will you explain Dr. Cardenas coming here?” Simpson asked.

McClintock replied, “Simple. We’re using her nanomachines to build the mirrors. She’s dropped in to see how they’re working.”

“Excellent,” said Uhlrich. “No mention of a possible problem. Not a word!”

He could feel resentment radiating from Simpson. But the engineer said grudgingly, “Probably a good idea. Don’t want to start a panic.”

“Exactly,” Uhlrich said.

They left the office. Uhlrich sat behind his desk, thinking that McClintock had hit on the perfect strategy. Distract the media with the first spectra from Sirius C. It would even gain credit for Farside in the public’s eyes. And from the committee in Stockholm. This could all end up as a positive step for me.

Now to get results from Dr. Yost, he said to himself. And quickly.

ARGUMENT

Trudy sat dutifully in Professor Uhlrich’s office, with handsome Carter McClintock sitting across the table, smiling pleasantly at her.

He hasn’t called me since the night we spent together, Trudy thought. Maybe I disappointed him? Wasn’t hot enough in bed for him?

Professor Uhlrich’s voice broke into her self-recrimination. “How soon can you produce spectra of Sirius C’s atmosphere?”

Trudy snapped her attention to the professor. She heard the anxiety in his voice, saw the tension etching his lean, austere face. Those sightless eyes of his unnerved her; they seemed to be peering straight at her, penetrating her like X-rays.

“The spectrometer’s ready to be packed up and delivered to Mendeleev,” she replied. “I’ll have to go out there with a technician to install it on the telescope. Maybe two technicians.”

“Why do you have to go?” McClintock asked. “Can’t the technicians do the installation work, under your supervision? Remotely, from here at Farside?”

Trudy caught a note of apprehension in Carter’s voice.

“It’ll be a lot easier if I’m there,” she replied.

“What about the robots?” McClintock pressed. “Why can’t they—”

“Nonsense!” Professor Uhlrich snapped. “We cannot trust such valuable equipment to robots.”

“I don’t mind going to Mendeleev,” Trudy told them. It was a stretch of the truth, and she knew it. “It’d only be for a day or so. I can spend a night in the shelter. It’ll be okay.”

Carter looked decidedly uneasy, she thought. He’s worried about me! How sweet.

But the professor said, “How soon can you do the installation?”

“I could leave tomorrow.”

“Very well,” said Uhlrich. Turning to McClintock, he ordered, “Make the necessary arrangements for a hopper and tell Simpson to assign two of his best technicians.”

McClintock nodded unhappily.

“Is there anything else?” Trudy asked. “If not, I’ll get started on packing the spectrometer.”

“By all means,” said the professor.

She got up from her chair, flashed a warm smile at Carter, and left the professor’s office.

*   *   *

McClintock watched her go, then turned back to Uhlrich.

“Do you think it’s safe to let her go to Mendeleev?”

The professor frowned at him. “How can we get spectra from Sirius C unless she installs the spectrometer?”

“But if…” McClintock hesitated, sorting out his thoughts. “If Mendeleev is dangerous, if there’s a problem with the nanomachines…”

“Nonsense,” Uhlrich snapped.

“Simpson doesn’t think it’s nonsense.”

“Simpson is an engineer,” the professor replied. “They’re all overly cautious.”

“Perhaps.”

“Dr. Cardenas is due to arrive here this afternoon. Have you prepared quarters for her?”

McClintock resented being treated like a servant, but he thought, It’s just his way. He doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just a wannabe aristocrat. Then he corrected himself: No, he’s a wannabe Nobel laureate.

And he wondered how insufferable Professor Uhlrich would become if he actually did get a Nobel.

*   *   *

That afternoon, when the lobber from Selene settled on Farside’s lone landing pad, McClintock waited at the airlock hatch to greet Dr. Cardenas.

The heavy steel hatch sighed open; a pair of technicians in sky-blue coveralls stepped through and walked right past him. For a moment McClintock worried that Cardenas wasn’t aboard the rocket, but then she strode into the tiny reception area, tall and graceful, blond curls and china blue eyes, looking radiant and youthful and altogether delightful.

She was not smiling, though. She looked quite serious, almost grim, in fact.

“It’s good of you to come,” McClintock said as he shook her hand. It felt warm and strong and he realized that she was a very desirable woman.

“You think you might have a problem,” she said. “Let’s find out what’s going on.”

“I’ll take you to Professor Uhlrich’s office,” McClintock said. “Your bag will be sent to your quarters.”

Cardenas nodded curtly, but said, “Let’s go to the lab where they examined the space suit that failed. Professor Uhlrich can meet us there.”

McClintock said, “Good idea,” grinning inwardly at the thought of rousting Uhlrich from his office and making him go to Cardenas, rather than the other way around.

Two Nobel candidates, he said to himself. There ought to be sparks flying.

*   *   *

Trudy was surprised when Grant Simpson popped into the storage area where she was packing up the spectrometer and its associated gear.

“You’re going to Mendeleev?” Grant asked, without preamble.

“Yes,” Trudy said. “Tomorrow morning.”

“Can’t you let the techs do the installation? You could monitor their work from here.”

Trudy felt her brows knit. First Carter and now Grant, she thought. All of a sudden everybody’s worried about me going to Mendeleev.

Tell the truth now, she said to herself. You don’t like the idea yourself: flying out there in the open, it’s kinda scary, admit it.

But to Grant she said, “What’s the big deal about me going to Mendeleev?”

Grant looked determined, almost grim. “It’s foolish to go out there if you don’t have to.”

Pointing to the crate that held the spectroscope, Trudy said, “I’m the only one who can put that rig on the telescope properly. That’s why I have to go.”

“You’re not indispensable,” Grant said.

“Indispensable? When did I say I was indispensable?”

“Just now. You’re not the only person here who could put that dingus on the ’scope.”

“Oh no?” Trudy felt her blood beginning to seethe. “Who else around here could do it?”

“I could.”

“You?”

“Me,” Grant said. “You’re staying here. You can direct me remotely. I’ll go out to the telescope and attach the equipment to it.”

She planted her fists on her hips and glared at him. “You don’t have the authority to keep me here.”

“Then I’ll get the Ulcer to give you a direct order. Is that what you want?”

Trudy stared into Grant’s dark, brooding eyes. He doesn’t look angry, she thought. He looks … worried, fearful.

More gently she asked, “What’s going on, Grant? Why don’t you want me to go out to Mendeleev?”

“There’s no need for you to go,” he said, lowering his voice a notch. “I’ll go. You direct me from here.”

“And if you louse up the installation, the professor will blame me.”

“No he won’t. I’ll take the responsibility. I’m used to working outside. I’ve got plenty of experience. You don’t.”

“Well, I’m not going to get any experience sitting in here while you go out and do my work for me,” she said.

“That’s the way it’s going to be, Trudy.”

“No it’s not! This is
my
responsibility and I’m going to do it, whether you like it or not!”

“Look, you went out there once and a man got killed. I don’t—”

“You’re blaming me for Winston?” Trudy screeched, her temper boiling now.