Spindrift (5 page)

Harker doubted that he'd get a chance to be influenced by counterrevolutionary ideology. Donald Sinclair stood beside Cruz, quietly observing everything that was going on. The Proletariat had apparently decided that it was more important to send one of its own on the mission than another scientist; if the Union Astronautica had objected, Harker hadn't heard of it. Which certainly wasn't the case when the ESA decided that it needed to put aboard its own political representative as well; Sir Peter Cole might be a Cambridge fellow and England's Astronomer Royal, but it was clear to everyone that he was intended to be Sinclair's counterpart. In any case, neither government wanted to risk being left out when the
Galileo
discovered…well, whatever it was that the expedition would discover when they reached Spindrift.

Which left Jared Ramirez. Once again, Harker found his eyes drawn to the astrobiologist. He sat quietly midway down the table, not participating in any of the conversations around him. Throughout this last month, when the crew and science team had undergone intensive training—first in Geneva, then on the ship and the station—Ramirez had been largely left alone by the others. He'd demonstrated a willingness to cooperate with the rest of the science team, even displayed a wry sense of humor at times. Yet the fact remained that everyone knew who he was. Perhaps he'd once been a respected scientist in his field, but no one was willing to forget his role in the Savant genocide, or that his actions had led to the deaths of over thirty-five thousand people.

Why did you do it?
Harker studied Ramirez from across the room.
You said that you didn't know what the Council of Savants was planning when you supplied it data about disease vectors within third-world populations…but when people in those regions started dying from viruses that had been obliterated years ago, you didn't tell anyone that the pattern mimicked possible scenarios you'd mapped out for the Savants. Were you really just a pawn? Or did you believe as they did, that the planet could only be saved if there were three billion fewer people living on it?

He glanced again at Emily, and wasn't surprised to see that she was quietly watching Ramirez as well. Once more, she met his gaze, only this time she didn't smile. Like it or not, Jared Ramirez was the foremost expert in extraterrestrial intelligence. If Spindrift was, indeed, an alien artifact of some sort, his knowledge would be invaluable.

But could they trust him? Harker didn't know.

The door slid open just then, and Captain Lawrence strode into the room. “Don't get up, please,” he said, although no one made an effort to rise from their seats, as he walked past them to take his place at the head of the table. “I'll try to make this as brief as possible, so you can return to work.”

“Thank you, sir.” Arkady's face remained stoical. “There's much that remains to be done.”

Some knowing smiles from around the table, and a couple of coughs. The fact of the matter was that there was little for anyone to do in the forty hours that remained before they left the station, save for preflight physicals and last-minute teleconference calls with family and friends back on Earth. Yet the irony was lost on the captain; Lawrence nodded, then opened his pad and placed it on the table.

“This will be our last mission briefing before we commence final countdown,” he said, tapping in commands that slaved his pad to the conference room comp. “If there's anyone who has any objections”—a glance at Arkady—“substantive objections, that is, now is the time to voice them.”

No one spoke up, although Cohen, noticing that Jones was still asleep, nudged him with his elbow. The doctor's eyes opened; he blinked a few times, then sat up straight in his chair.
Should've let him sleep
, Harker thought.
Nothing here he hasn't heard before.

“Our profile calls for us to board
Galileo
at oh nine hundred GMT on June first.” The wallscreen behind Lawrence lit to display the schedule. “Both the flight crew and the science team will disembark from this station at oh eight hundred, aboard OTVs piloted by Commander Harker and Lieutenant Collins. They will dock with
Galileo
at ports two and four…”

Harker slid down into his chair. Everyone here knew this already; he could see their eyes beginning to glaze over. Lawrence was trying to assert his authority. Once again, he found himself pondering the twists of fate that brought this buffoon to the command of the
Galileo
instead of…

No. Let's not go there again.
Harker forced himself to concentrate on the briefing, even though everything Lawrence said was already committed to memory. Prelaunch checkout of all major systems, followed by AI tests and rundown of the checklist, the entire procedure lasting six hours. At T-minus thirty seconds, full activation of onboard power systems. At T-minus zero, primary ignition and departure from dry dock…

“Mission clock begins at fifteen hundred hours.” Lawrence tapped another command into his keypad, and a holo shimmered into existence above the table: Earth, with Tsiolkovsky Station connected to it by a slender thread and a wire-frame model of
Galileo
parked in geosynchronous orbit nearby. As they watched,
Galileo
departed from orbit and, leaving a dotted line in its wake, began to move away from Earth. “At this point, we'll turn over command and control to the gatehouse, and its AI will interface with our own during rendezvous maneuvers with the starbridge.” The holo expanded to show
Galileo
heading for a small silver ring positioned in Lagrangian orbit near the Moon, a space station hovering nearby. “It'll be a hands-off approach, of course,” he added, giving Simone a meaningful glance. “The comps will take care of hyperspace insertion.”

Simone nodded, but didn't say anything. Harker had no doubt that she didn't much like the idea of surrendering the helm to
Galileo
's AI, but it couldn't be helped; the timing was too critical to be trusted to human reflexes. And since this would be the first time a manned vessel would go through the starbridge, no one was willing to take any chances.

As if we're not taking enough already
, he thought.

“If all goes well,” Lawrence said, “we'll achieve hyperspace insertion at exactly twenty-one hundred hours.” As he spoke, the holo expanded again, this time to show
Galileo
entering the starbridge's event horizon, depicted as a funnel-shaped grid, with the gatehouse floating beyond its gravitational reach. “We shouldn't feel any major effects beyond some minor turbulence, but even then, we've been cautioned to have our harnesses securely fastened…”

“And our heads firmly positioned beneath our legs,” Arkady murmured. Everyone laughed out loud save for Lawrence, who glared at him. “Sorry, sir,” he added, unable to keep the smile off his face. “Small joke.”

“I hope it's your last.” Lawrence looked away again, giving the others a chance to roll their eyes and shake their heads. Harker quietly sighed. Not a good sign.

Galileo
entered the ring and disappeared. Lawrence tapped his pad again, and the starbridge, along with Earth and the Moon, suddenly diminished in size, vanishing into near nothingness as, in their place, there appeared a schematic diagram of the solar system as seen from a ninety-degree angle. The orbits of the major planets were traced by a series of concentric circles, with the inner planets all but disappearing within a tight halo close to the Sun and the outer planets of Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune positioned at various places along its nether regions.

Far beyond the orbit of Neptune, there appeared a vast, elliptical loop, skewed at a forty-four-degree angle above and below the plane of ecliptic and, at its farthest point, extending deep into extrasolar space. A tiny black spot was located almost midway to the apogee of this orbital track, below the plane of ecliptic. Lawrence manipulated the holo, and it zoomed to reveal a small, off-white sphere, with another ring-shaped starbridge orbiting nearby.

“The jump shouldn't take more than a second,” he went on, as the tiny replica of
Galileo
exited the second starbridge, “but once we're through, we'll be in orbit near Eris. At this point, we'll be approximately forty-two-point-seven AUs from Earth…” He suddenly stopped, pointed across the room. “You have a question?”

“If I may.” Donald Sinclair had raised his hand. “Granted, this is an efficient use of KX-1”—he referred to the second starbridge by its official designation—“but, as I understand it, forty-two AUs is less than one percent of the distance we need to travel in order to intercept Spindrift. If that's the case, why not engage the diametric drive earlier? After all, if we'll eventually be traveling at ninety-five percent light-speed, we could cross the same distance in only a matter of hours.” He paused, allowing a fatuous smile to creep across his face. “Our ships didn't do that.”

For a moment, Lawrence's expression was one of bafflement. His mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Oh, for the love of Christ
, Harker thought.
The poor dumb bastard doesn't know the answer to this.

“That would be true,” Harker said, sitting up in his seat, “if we could achieve relativistic velocity from a standstill. But it'll take
Galileo
three months to accelerate to one gee, using its fusion engine, before its diametric drive can reach full efficiency, and even then it'd have to work hard to escape the Sun's gravitational pull. That's something your ships had to deal with. But since we'll be using KX-1, we can instantly put ourselves beyond the Sun's gravity well so that it's no longer much of a consideration. And since Spindrift's course puts it beneath the solar plane of ecliptic, it'll also give us something of a head start.”

“Exactly, yes.” Lawrence recovered his poise. “Thank you, Mr. Harker.” He pointed to the miniature
Galileo
, circling the minor planet. “We'll spend a couple of days in orbit around Eris, deploying the drive torus and making a final check of all systems, before we ignite the main engine and depart for our rendezvous with Spindrift.”

Again, he touched his pad. The solar system shrank until only the orbit of Eris was apparent; far away, a dotted line traced Spindrift's estimated trajectory. A blue line appeared between the two, showing
Galileo
's flight path. “We'll enter into biostasis shortly after that,” the captain went on, “and remain that way until we reach Spindrift at its closest approach, two light-years…”

“One-point-nine-nine l.y.'s.” This from Ramirez, who had been quiet until that point.

“Yes, right. By that time, we'll have spent two years and one month in biostasis…”

“Seven and a half months,” Jones said. “Shiptime, that is, taking into consideration time dilation at relativistic…”

“Right. Yes, of course.” Lawrence was becoming visibly flustered. “But the ship's comps will be preset to disregard this…um, effect…so when we reach Spindrift, the date will be January 7, 2291, counting three months for acceleration and three more for braking. Or at least so we estimate…”

“If all goes well,” Ramirez muttered.

“No doubt it will.” Lawrence touched his pad again, and the holo dissolved. “I believe that's all for now,” he said, bending down to fold his pad. “If anyone has any further questions or concerns, I'll take them in my quarters. Until then…”

He paused, looked around. It was almost as if he was taking into regard a roomful of strangers, none of whom he knew well enough to consider his friends, let alone teammates. “Thank you,” he said, then picked up his pad and, without a glance behind him, hurried from the room.

So much for the final mission briefing. Sinking back in his chair, Harker rubbed at his eyelids with the tips of his fingers. Around him, he could hear crewmen murmuring to each other. Someone made a remark that he didn't catch—probably Arkady—that caused others to laugh. If he'd been in any other mood, he might have asked what it was. Yet just now, the mission itself seemed like some sort of practical joke.

Good grief
, he thought,
the man is such a fool.

A soft hand touched the back of his neck. He opened his eyes and looked up to see Emily standing behind him. “Hey, sailor,” she said quietly. “Buy you a drink?”

“Love one.” Then he frowned. “We're going to have to wait a while, though. Can't let him see us sneaking off to…”

“Don't worry. I know the best place in town.” She looked around, making sure no one was listening to them, then leaned closer. “My quarters. Half an hour.”

A quick tap upon his shoulder, then she was gone. Harker watched as she left the conference room, admiring the graceful movement of her hips within her jumpsuit.
Ah, well
, he mused.
At least I won't be lacking for company these next few years.

Even if most of them would be spent asleep.