Spindrift (21 page)
Authors: Allen Steele
“Quite right. I shouldâ¦but I'm not, and that's all there is to it, yes?” A dejected smile. “Still have my pipe? I could use a smoke just now.”
“Maybe later.” Harker sat down in the chair next to him. “I didn't get a chance to say so before,” he said, dropping his voice to a near whisper, “butâ¦well, thanks. Thanks for coming clean with Emily.”
“Sure.” Once again, Ramirez gazed out the window, only this time he seemed more nervous. Raising a hand to his mouth, his absently gnawed at his fingernails. “She's your lady, isn't she? I mean, you two are an item, right?”
Something in the way he asked stirred the hair on the back of Harker's neck. “Yes, she is. And I'd prefer if you didn't⦔
“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Ramirez looked straight at him. “Sorry. Didn't mean to get your back up like that. It's just⦔ His face turned red, and he hastily looked away. “You're a lucky man. If you don't know that already, then you should.”
Oh, hell
, Harker thought.
Does he have a crush on�
“Got it!” Kaufmann yelled. “We've got it!”
The rest of the team let out a collective cheer and began pounding each other on the back. Ramirez sprang to his feet, rushed over to the console; Harker followed him as he pushed his way past Cole and Sinclair to squeeze in behind Rauchle. Sinclair started to object, but stopped when Harker blocked him with his arm and quietly shook his head. The astrobiologist had more right to be there than the political officer.
Peering over Cruz's shoulder, Harker examined the console's center screen. Displayed upon it was a thin crescent that dimly reflected the wan light of the distant sun. For a moment, Harker thought he was looking at Eris again, yet the crosshatches overlaid upon the image made it clear that the object was much smaller than that minor planet, its albedo considerably lower.
“Distance, 95,867 kilometers,” Kaufmann said, once everyone quieted down. “Just about where we thought it would be.” He glanced up at Harker and smiled. “My compliments to your navigator. She put us almost exactly where⦔
“Never mind that now,” Rauchle grumbled. “Get us a better resolution.”
“Patience, Toby, patience.” Grasping the joystick of the optical telescope's remote manipulator, Kaufmann carefully centered the bull's-eye upon Spindrift, then turned a knob to zoom in. The image grew larger, then refocused. They could see that it was iron grey, the color of an old bridge girder, its surface wrinkled with rills and small ridges, pockmarked by countless craters both large and small.
“Thank you.” Cruz was already tapping at his keyboard. “Initiating spectrographic analysis now.” On his screen, columns of figures appeared, began to scroll upward; bending closer, the astrogeologist carefully studied the readout. “Ironâ¦magnesiumâ¦carbon and carbon silicatesâ¦oxidized ironâ¦surface traces of frozen carbon dioxide⦔
“No sign of the secondary object,” Ramirez said. “Where is it?”
“Haven't spotted it yet.” Kaufmann gently moved the telescope to the left, bringing the curvature of Spindrift's visible horizon into view. “Perhaps it's orbiting on the far side, but⦔
“A planetary transient.” Rauchle's expression was sour with disgust. “A rogue, nothing more.” He glared at Harker. “Thank you for the exciting ride, first officer, but there's little here that we couldn't have seen if we'd stayed in the Kuiperâ”
“Robert, look here.” Ignoring Rauchle, Cruz tapped Kaufmann on the shoulder, drawing the physicist's attention to his screen. “See that percentage of carbon dioxide? Don't you think it's rather high for a metallic body?”
Kaufmann studied the screen for a moment, slowly nodded. “The ratio is high, yes. Frozen-out atmosphere?”
“I thought so, too, but see here⦔ Cruz typed another command into his keyboard; his screen changed to display bar graphs of different elements and compounds. “Look at that spike,” he continued, pointing to an orange bar that rose a little higher than most. “Not evenly spread out, like it would be if it was atmospheric in origin, but instead concentrated in certain places.”
“Vented from the interior?” Rauchle's brow furrowed. “Seismic activity, perhaps⦔
“From a rogue?” Cruz glanced at Rauchle. The team leader folded his arms together but otherwise remained silent. “I doubt it. Can you give us an infrared image?”
Without a word, Kaufmann entered a prompt into the telescope command. The visual image of Spindrift disappeared, to be replaced by a false-color IR display. Now it appeared as a complete sphere, brown, with splotches of red, blue, silverâ¦
Harker heard Ramirez gasp. Looking around, he saw that the astrobiologist was staring at the screen. Everyone else had gone silent as well; no one said anything as they, too, noticed the pattern of orange circles that described a semicircular line across Spindrift's surface. An almost perfect arc of longitude, stretching from pole to pole.
“That can't be natural,” Ramirez murmured. “That's not something that⦔
“Hold it. Wait a second.” Kaufmann held up a hand. “Getting something else.”
Without bothering to explain, he pushed the IR image to one corner of the screen. Cruz and Rauchle angrily protested as the visible-light image of Spindrift reappeared, but Kaufmann paid no attention to them; using the joystick, he pulled back from the close-up until Spindrift resumed the same appearance as it had before.
Harker saw what had drawn Kaufmann's attention: a small circular object, coming into view just beyond the limb of the rogue. Ramirez pointed to it, but Kaufman was already tracking it with the telescope. He centered the crosshairs upon the satellite, then zoomed in. It took a moment for the telescope to focus, but when it did, Harker felt his heart skip a beat.
“My god.” Ramirez's voice came as a whisper. “Oh, my god⦔
Although the ring wasn't perfectly identical to the one they'd left behind in the Kuiper Belt, no one had any doubt what they were seeing.
A starbridge.
JUNE 1, 2288âEASS
GALILEO
O
ne moment, the starbridge was inert and still, a giant ring floating in the outermost reaches of the solar system. The next, a silent flash of defocused light, then the
Galileo
hurtled from hyperspace.
Opening his eyes, Harker took a slow, deep breath. The palms of his hands were slick where they clutched his seat's armrests; wincing from a cramp in his neck, he carefully turned his head to gaze about the command center. The rest of the flight crew didn't look much better; a lot of pale and sweat-soaked faces, along with a few groans and murmured curses. At least no one had lost consciousness.
A retching sound to his right. Harker glanced around to see Lawrence suddenly clamp a hand against his mouth, a tendril of vomit slipping from between his fingers. Congealing as a constellation of bilious green orbs, it drifted upward, captured by the air currents as it floated in the direction of the ceiling exhaust vent. Trying to control his nausea, Lawrence doubled over in his seat, fumbling with his free hand to unclasp his harness.
“Nick?” Harker turned toward Jones, who was rubbing his eyes. “Hey, Doc, we got a problem here. Can youâ¦?”
“I'm on it.” Nick unsnapped his harness, then unsteadily pushed himself out of his seat. Using the ceiling rails to pull himself hand over hand across the compartment, he unbuckled Lawrence's harness, then gently prized the captain from his chair. Lawrence continued to hold his hand against his mouth, yet he was clearly in danger of choking on his own vomit. The doctor whispered something in his ear, and when the captain shook his head, he grabbed Lawrence's hand and yanked it away from his mouth.
Lawrence loudly and explosively puked, and the constellation became a nebula. That was enough; Harker shook off the rest of his grogginess and unclasped his own harness. “Get him out of here,” he snapped, pushing himself out of his chair before the mess could reach him. An apologetic glance, then Nick wrapped an arm around Lawrence's shoulder and hauled him toward the access shaft.
“Will someone please take care of this?” Disgusted, Harker shied away from the vomit cloud. “Wernerâ¦?”
“No problem.” Recognizing the threat it posed to the compartment's air-circulation system, Gelb opened a maintenance locker and pulled out a handheld vacuum cleaner normally used to clear dust from the consoles. Switching it on, the life-support chief went about the revolting but necessary chore.
“Thank you.” Despite the absurdity of the moment, Harker realized that he'd just become the senior officer on the bridge. Yet he had no time and less inclination to savor the moment. There were more important things to think about just now. “Simone, how are we doing?”
“We're in good shape, sir.” The helmsman had shaken off her torpor; her hands moved across her console, snapping switches as she studied her console's comp screens. “We were in a lateral spin, but⦔ Simone paused, let out her breath. “Yes. RCS firing to compensate. Bringing her back into trim, sir.”
“Excellent.” Harker pulled himself over to Simone's station, peered over her shoulder. As she said,
Galileo
's attitude was beginning to stabilize; the screen to her left showed its profile coming back to its proper orientation on its x-, y-, and z-axes, while the one to the right displayed its position relative to both the starbridge and Eris. “Nice work,” he said. “Rather have you in the driver's seat than the AI.”
“Thank you, sir.” Simone smiled. “Sorry for the rough ride.”
“We're through, safe and sound. That's what matters.” Raising his gaze to the windows, Harker looked out at Eris: a whitish-grey crescent, little larger than a soccer ball, dully reflecting the radiance of a distant star. It took him a moment to realize that the star was the Sun, and that he was seeing it from a perspective that few other humans had ever experienced. So large and bright back home, but out here in the Kuiper Belt he could have covered it with a raised thumb.
“Find me an orbit. Can you do that?” Simone nodded, and he turned away. “Toni? Ship status?”
“Nothing to worry about. All systems green.” The XO paused, studying the screens above her station. “All the same, I'd like to inspect the engine module. There may have been some stress on the portside radiation shield, section three.”
“Can it wait? I'd like to engage the field first. Might make things a little easier.” Antonia nodded, and he looked over at the chief engineer. “Martin, you think we're ready for that?”
The chief engineer looked a little green, but he nodded. “One-minute warning on your mark, sir.”
“Mark.” Grasping the ceiling rail, Harker hurried back to his seat. He'd barely settled back into it when the klaxon whooped three times, signaling all hands that the Millis-Clement field would be activated in sixty seconds. When it fell silent, Harker glanced over at the com station. “Arkadyâ¦?”
“Already done it, Captainâ¦I mean, sir.” An apologetic grin. “Transmitted a message back home via hyperlink, informing them that we've safely⦔ Arkady held up a hand as he listened to his headset. “Receiving signal from the gatehouse, confirming our arrival,” he added. “They're ready to close the bridge.”
“Well done. Tell 'em we copy, and we'll be in touch.” This would be the last exchange between
Galileo
and Starbridge Earth; the hyperlink was capable of sending and receiving radio messages only so long as the wormhole remained open, and the gatehouse couldn't keep it that way indefinitely. “Raise the LCP and begin calibration with Mare Muscoviense. Soon as you've got a lock, transmit a test message.”
Arkady nodded as he turned back to his console. From there on, all contact with home would be achieved by means of a 250-kilowatt laser communication platform located on the service module, which would transmit messages to the Union Astronautica's deep-space tracking station on the lunar farside. The laser wouldn't move any faster than
x
-band radio, but it would allow for more information to be sent with less interference from interstellar matter.
Behind him, Martin recited a countdown: “MCI in fiveâ¦fourâ¦threeâ¦twoâ¦one⦔ Harker felt his body settle into his seat as gravity returned to
Galileo
. Doing this so soon would cause a small spike to the zero-point energy generator, but it shouldn't affect the deployment of the diametric drive torus. He looked again at the chief engineer; Martin carefully studied his screens, then silently gave him a thumbs-up. The ZPE generator was copacetic.
What next? Harker let out his breath. Not much, at least for the time being. The ship appeared to be in good shape. Everyone had recovered from the stress of the hyperspace jump and was going about their business. He supposed that he should go down to Deck C and check on the passengers, yet until Captain Lawrence returned to dutyâ¦
“Nice going there, Mr. Harker.” Feeling a hand touch his elbow, he turned to find that Emily had come up behind him. Her face was flushed, her hair matted with sweat, yet there was an encouraging smile that gave him reason to relax a little more.
“Thank you.” He raised a hand to gently brush back the hair from her eyes. “Simulator didn't quite prepare us for that, did it?”
“Prepared us enough, I think.” A wry glance at the access hatch. “More than Ian, I think,” she added, lowering her voice. “Maybe that'll teach him to skip training.”
“Yeah, well⦔ He shook his head. “Not that any of this will be entered in the log.”
“Of course not.” Emily glanced about the command center. “But you know what the main difference is between you and him? He treats everyone here like subordinates. He barks orders and expects everyone to obey him⦔
“That's what a captain's supposed to do.”
“Uh-uh. A captain's supposed to be a leader, not a boss.” Another smile. “You treat these people with respect. They're your friends, and you trust themâ¦and they know that. Half of them were ready to puke their guts out, just like he didâ¦but they sucked it in and did their jobs before you had to ask. You think they would've done that for him?” Before Harker could respond, she took his hand. “C'mon, now. They're just fine. Let them do what they're supposed to do. You, on the other hand⦔
“I should go below. Check on the science team.”
“Sure. That comes first. And then⦔ Emily tugged at his hand, pulling him from his chair. “You need to take a lady out to see the stars.”
A glance at Antonia. She looked back at him, gave him a stoical nod; she'd take care of things on the bridge. With an inward sigh, Harker let Emily escort him from the command center.
Â
The science team had handled the jaunt better than he expected, at least for the most part. When Harker stopped by Rauchle's quarters, he found the team leader collapsed on his bunk, waxen-faced and in a foul mood. He'd become violently ill, leaving Kaufmann to clean up the mess with a handful of paper towels he'd hastily snatched from the privy. Harker made his exit before Rauchle could vent his temper in his direction. He was getting fed up with Rauchle's tantrums; sooner or later, he'd have a chat with the physicist, but not just yet.
Cruz, on the other hand, had accepted the chaos that erupted in his cabin with grace and good humor. The astrogeologist had brought with him a small library of disks, paper books, and loose-leaf binders; all well and good, except that he'd neglected to secure them to the shelves with the safety straps provided. They'd scattered in midair all over the place, then come crashing down once the field was engaged; when Emily came to visit him, she found Cruz picking up books and loose pages. Yet even though he'd suffered a bump on the forehead from
The Proceedings of the Planetary Geography Society, Vol. LXXI,
Cruz's only protest came as a rueful grin. Harker left her to help Cruz gather his belongings, then pushed himself down the corridor.
The door to Ramirez's quarters was shut, yet as Harker approached it, his nose caught a faint odor that he couldn't identify: somewhat like burning leaves, only more pungent. When he rapped his knuckles against the door, he heard Ramirez's voice, yet it was muffled and indistinct, and the astrobiologist didn't open it. Becoming suspicious, Harker decided that his prerogatives outweighed the scientist's privacy and touched the door button.
The cabin was filled with smoke, pale and intoxicating. Ramirez was sitting at his desk, the palm of his left hand cupped around something in his right hand. When Harker demanded to know what he was trying to hide, Ramirez sheepishly held up a small, hand-carved wooden pipe.
“Many apologies, Commander,” Ramirez murmured, a beatific smile upon his face. “A small indulgence on my partâ¦one I cultivated at Dolland.” He offered the pipe to him, the ember in its bowl still smoldering. “Care to join me? Does wonders for the nerves.”
“No, thank you.” Harker had heard that cannabis could be smoked, but until then he'd never met anyone who would ever indulge in such an archaic vice. As it was, his eyes were already beginning to water. “That's rather dangerous. I'm surprised you didn't trip the fire alarm.”
“That?” Ramirez pointed to a dislodged service panel in the ceiling. “Sorry. Deactivated.” A sleepy grin. “Little trick I learned in prison. Made life there a bit more bearable.”
“Yes, wellâ¦be that as it may, that's one trick you'll have to do without.” He extended his hand. “If you'll pleaseâ¦?”
“Mr. Harker⦔
“Dr. Ramirez, this isn't Dolland. This is my ship, and its safety is more important than your nerves.” He snapped his fingers. “Hand it overâ¦or I'll ask Ms. Vincenza to come down here and help me search your quarters. And believe me, you won't like that very much.”
The smile vanished from Ramirez's face. He hesitated, then surrendered the pipe. Harker carefully laid his thumb upon the bowl to snuff out the ember, then put it in his breast pocket and held out his hand again. Ramirez glared at him, then reached beneath his left thigh and pulled out a small pill container.
“This isn't very fair, you know,” he said, tossing the container to Harker. “Perhaps you should ask Dr. Rauchle for the liter of schnapps he has in his bag.”
“If you want, we can have a shot of Irish whiskey together. I brought a bottle with me. That's not the issue.” Harker juggled the container in his hand. “Tell you what, chum,” he said, reaching over to a wall panel to activate the exhaust fan that Ramirez had failed to notice. “You do your job, and I may find a way to let you use one of the emergency air locks for your indulgence. Think you can do that?”
The smile reappeared. “Sure. So long as you show me how to use it so that I don't space myself.”
“That's your problem,” Harker replied, and Ramirez's smile became a irate glare. “Whenever you're ready, you know where to find me.”
Harker backed out of the cabin, closing the door behind him. He turned to discover Emily waiting for him in the corridor. “I heard,” she said quietly. “I never would've believed it.”
