Captors, not masters
, I thought. The twisted thing I had carried around in my pocket, that I had thought to be a radio handset, must be Pegasus’ equivalent of car keys. “So what specifically creates the problems?”
“First of all, I am not capable of interstellar flight. If the Mars base has been abandoned, I have nowhere to go.”
I tried to imagine how that would feel. What if Columbus had left one of his sailors alone with the Indians? At least the Indians were human. Whatever Pegasus was, or its masters had been, there was nothing else like it here on Earth. At least I hoped so, for our sake.
“But you have to go look, right?”
“That is where the second problem arises. I am a survey unit. If I dock at my base, I am automatically shut down for maintenance and data recovery. This is a failure safety measure to guard against my higher order functions experiencing what you might call madness. Part of the same doctrine that called for the autonomous programming blocks. If the base is abandoned, no one will restart me. It will be as if I had died. I do not wish to die.”
“No one’s going to die, Pegasus,” I said. I cast a meaningful glance at Floyd. He shrugged against his straps.
“Are you leaving me now, Vernon Dunham?” Pegasus asked over the cabin speakers.
I sighed. I didn’t want to face the cops and soldiers outside myself. I’d already decided not to sell Pegasus out, so there wasn’t much left for me besides court appearances and prison time. Besides, Floyd and I had some things to get straight between us. Time might be useful, time away from gunfire and hot pursuit and double-crossing agents. “What do you think, Floyd?”
He laughed. “Look at the mess I’ve made. Vernon, I...I’m sorry about everything.” Floyd met my eye man-to-man. Friend-to-friend. Brother-to-brother. “When we get out of here, I’m going to jail forever. Or maybe even get the electric chair, for espionage.” He glanced at the deck.
“Yeah, you’re going down pretty hard,” I said as gently as I could. Even harder than me, and that was saying a lot.
Dad needed me — he might still die, or he might live messed up from his beating. I wasn’t sure which of those options would be worse. And I had to clean up the mess in my life, get back to work, find a girl... Though I’d probably already been fired, and no girl who knew me would ever come near me now.
Not even Midge for a wad of cash.
And there was a fat chance that Pinkhoffer was just going to let me walk away to my quiet, normal life if I climbed out of Pegasus into the Kansas night. Especially now that the highest authority, as Pinkhoffer put it, had gotten involved. That my activities should disturb President Truman at his important work was frightening. Because of that, what I wanted was going to be rendered moot, anyway. I wasn’t much better off than Floyd.
“Vernon?” he prompted.
“Oh,” I said, “just thinking. About Dad...”
“I’m real sorry about your dad, Vernon.”
That hurt. “Not half as sorry as I am about your Mama.”
Floyd winced, his face flushing.
Tough apples
, I thought. Even so, could I turn my brother over?
I had no choice.
“Pegasus,” I asked, “how long will it take to get to your base?”
“At this time transit to Mars will take about sixty-seven hours.”
“Sixty-seven hours!” I would have thought months, or years. Maybe we didn’t have to leave the ship, step into the waiting arms of authority. Not just yet, anyway. Let tempers cool for a while.
“When I am in full operating condition I can achieve ninety one percent of the speed of light in interplanetary transit. In almost all cases, I am required to spend more time accelerating and decelerating than in the actual transit.”
Wow. Relativity in action. Everybody knew about Albert Einstein, but nobody understood him. Except Pegasus. More technology the good old US of A. could use. It all started to make sense to me. “So if the base there really is shut down, we could go and come back in a week?”
“Yes.”
A week out of my life to go to Mars. It would take me that long just to visit California. And this was literally a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Then when we came back, I could make that deal with Pinkhoffer. One I could work out to where Pegasus got fair terms, not torn down like a captured enemy fighter.
My mind was made up even as I had the thought. I prayed that Dad would be okay until I got back. I could get the whole Nazi story out of Floyd, figure out how to bargain for him, too, when I made my own deal.
I looked at Floyd. “I take it you’re game for this?”
He laughed, a bitter little noise. I knew he was thinking about his mama. “If it keeps me out of jail another week, sure. I always wanted a trip to Mars.”
Well, there was nothing for it. “Pegasus, please open the radio channel to Colonel Pinkhoffer again.”
There was a brief pause, followed by a crackle.
“Colonel Pinkhoffer?” I asked. “Over.”
“Pinkhoffer here. Damn it, Dunham, you just keep making it worse. But still...thank you.”
Even though he couldn’t see me, or appreciate it, I smiled at him. “Thank you?”
“Morgan...ah...went crazy. I spent a few minutes in the city lock-up. Seems you set things a bit more right. Now
get
your happy ass
down
here.”
“Sorry. No can do. We’re not coming out right now. I stopped your bad boy, you clean him up and give me one more break by way of thanks. I’ll be back in about a week, to explain in peace and quiet when tempers have cooled and you’ve rounded up all of Morgan’s local stooges along with the rest of the bad guys. I’ll call then. Over and out.”
Pegasus’ voice came over the speakers again. “Colonel Pinkhoffer’s reply was unproductive and abusive. I have cut the connection.”
“Fine,” I said. “Let’s go to Mars. What the heck, maybe they just left the phone off the hook out there.”
Pegasus fell like an anvil in reverse, upward into the star-lit Kansas sky. I smiled at my brother, who smiled back at me.
Author’s Note
My mother and her siblings grew up in Augusta, Kansas, where my maternal grandparents lived and died before I was born. In certain respects, this story is the secret history of my family, except that they never had a flying saucer to contend with. Like most people, their real stories are in fact much stranger than anything I can dream up.
In 1997 my mother, my sister and I made a trip to Augusta to see the old family home, pay our respects at my grandparents’ graves, and visit cousins in El Dorado. It was the first time I’d ever seen that portion of my family’s history, and was the inspiration for this book.
I have done my best to represent Augusta as it was at the end of World War II, with the assistance of my mother’s recollections and stories, google.com, and several USGS maps of Butler County. The place is as real as I could make it, from Lehr’s to the train station, with only the Bellamys’ farm being completely fictional. Errors of fact, location and description are of course my own.
As for the good people of Augusta, to the best of my knowledge they have never been practitioners of the fine arts of espionage and conspiracy. My experience of the place was hospitable and friendly, a home to good, ordinary people living good, ordinary lives. I hope they will forgive my dramatic re-interpretation of their civic history. I recommend a visit to anyone travelling in that part of Kansas.
About the Author
Jay Lake lives and works in Portland, Oregon, within sight of an 11,000 foot volcano. In addtion to
Rocket Science
, he is the author of dozens of short stories, three collections, and a chapbook. Jay is also the co-editor with Deborah Layne of the critically-acclaimed
Polyphony
anthology series from Wheatland Press, as well as the highly successful
All-Star Zeppelin Adventure Stories
with David Moles. In 2004, Jay won the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer. He has also been a Hugo nominee for his short fiction and a World Fantasy Award nominee for his editing. Jay can be reached via his Web site at
http://www.jlake.com/