Starhawk (30 page)

THE BLACKSBURG WILDCATS
had regularly rolled over the Hawks for two years, and in fact seldom even had to run hard while doing so. At least that was Alicia's description of the situation. But on that one night, the Hawks showed up with a withering attack, got fourteen points from Alicia, and withstood a determined fourth-quarter rally to come away with a 67–63 victory. Jake sat behind their bench cheering his head off. Afterward, most of the players—everyone who didn't already have a prior commitment—trooped over to the Roundhouse and partied until midnight.

When the celebration was over, and almost everyone had left, Alicia put down her drink, looked at him, and asked what was wrong.

“You're pretty good at reading me,” he said.

“You're not exactly Voltaire, Jake. What's going on?”

“They're sending another mission to Orfano. The Academy wants some questions answered. And there's a body to recover.”

Her eyes darkened. “You're going with them, aren't you?”

“I'm sorry, Alicia. They need me.”

“Why?”

“Because I was there before. I know where the wreckage is.”

“Why don't they send what's-her-name? Hutchins?”

“They need somebody more experienced.”

“You going to be gone a week again?”

“I don't know how long, love. It'll probably be more than that. Probably a
few
weeks.”

All the light had gone out of the room. She just sat, watching him, making up her mind how to react. “You told me last time it was a one-time thing. That when the mission ended you wouldn't be going out anymore.”

“I don't think I ever said that.”

“It's what I heard. But let's get it settled. After this one, will you be doing it again?”

God help him, he didn't know. He didn't want to live the rest of his life on that mountaintop. On the ground. “Alicia, I love you.”

“That's not what I want to hear at the moment, Jake.”

“I know.”

“So what is it going to be?”

“We could make it work. I mean, I wouldn't be going out very often. Now and then, maybe. When they need me.”

“Great.”

“Alicia, it's what I do.”

“Okay. And I'll sit it out here while you go riding around. Have I got that right?” There was steel in her voice.

“You're making it sound worse than it is.”

“Am I? When we first met, the story was that you
used to be
a pilot. But that was in the past. You'd come to settle in Radford. The outer-space thing was over. If I'd known you were going to keep going back out, I'd have been a little more careful about letting myself get involved with you.”

“I'm sorry, Alicia. That
was
the plan. I'm not sure what happened.”

She closed her eyes. Nodded. Bit her lip. “Good night, Jake.”

“You need a ride home.”

“It's okay.” She looked toward the bar. “Janet's over there.”

 * * * 

LIBRARY ENTRY

The only difference between a caprice and a life-long passion is that the caprice lasts a little longer.

—Oscar Wilde,
The Picture of Dorian Gray

CAL MEANT WELL,
but he seemed to have trouble with time zones. When the link sounded at midnight, she was willing to bet it would be him. Inevitably she was right.
“How are you doing, love?”
he asked.

“Actually, Cal,” she said, “I was doing fine. Sleeping, though.”

“Oh. I did it again, didn't I? I'm sorry, Priscilla. I keep forgetting.”

In fact, usually she didn't mention it. “It's okay,” she said.

He took a deep breath.
“I'll skip the small talk.”

“Don't worry about it.”

“No, no. Look, Priscilla, I'd really like to see you this weekend. Maybe Saturday? Would it be a problem if I came up? To the station?”

“Sure, Cal,” she said. “That would be good.”

 * * * 

HE ARRIVED CARRYING
chocolates. He waved at her from the exit ramp, and she somehow automatically fell into his arms. “I hate not seeing you for long periods of time,” he said. “I've been thinking about getting a job up here. I understand Kosmik's looking for an accountant.”

“You're not an accountant.”

“I could fake it. They'd never know.” He managed an absolutely charming smile.
I'm kidding, but just say the word.
He really did look happy. Something more than what you normally saw with a guy on the make. “Did you get some pictures from Orfano?” he asked.

“Yes, we got some.”

“A world in the dark. It sounds like a seriously creepy place.”

“It was pretty cold.”

“I guess. How far away is it?”

“We only needed a couple of days to get there.”

He looked good. She'd forgotten how charming he could be. Her leading man. “It's really nice to see you again, Priscilla.”

“And you too, Cal.”

“Have you eaten yet? How about we go have some breakfast? The food in the shuttle is kind of sparse. What time is it here?”

“We're still on Greenwich time, Cal.” It was midmorning for him, midafternoon for her. “But sure. Let's get something to eat.”

 * * * 

THEY WENT TO
the Cockpit. When all the trivial questions about how they were doing and when Cal's next show would be were out of the way, he asked why on earth “the Academy people” had gone to a world that had to be dead.

“Looking for life isn't the only thing they're doing,” she said. “A lot of it has to do with just trying to find out how the universe works.” The account of the inexplicable lights was out in the open and had, for several days, been receiving heavy media coverage.

“Sure. But the aliens are the only thing people are really interested in.”

“You know, Cal,” she said, “when people hear what I do for a living, they always ask the same question: Do I hope to meet some aliens? I wonder what it is about that subject that fascinates us so much.”

“I don't know,” said Cal. “But you're right. I think what we'd really like is to find somebody out there that we could talk to, and maybe have some beer with. That's really what it's all about, isn't it?”

“I suppose so. But I don't think we'll be drinking any beer with whatever it is that's on Orfano.”

“I guess not.” He sat staring at her. “It's a really scary story. You're lucky they weren't unfriendly. Or hungry, or something.”

“It got me thinking, Cal. We're probably better off not having aliens in the area. Think where we'd be if there was a civilization nearby with technology a million years ahead of ours.”

They finished their meals and ordered a couple of drinks. “You know,” he said, “not to change the subject or anything, but you're absolutely gorgeous. Most beautiful woman on the station.”

She smiled. “How many of the women up here have you been involved with?”

He looked off to his right. “Well, there's another knockout over near the window.” A tall brunette, stacked, with classic features. “Not in your league, though.”

She wondered what had happened to the shy Cal she'd known earlier. Mark Klaybold, his stage character, had taken over.

The drinks arrived. She tried hers. Rum with a sprinkle of lemon. Cal lifted his glass and looked at her over its rim with those large brown eyes. “You're going to be a hard catch, aren't you, Priscilla?”

She looked back with as much puzzled innocence as she could manage. “What do you mean?”

His voice softened: “I'm not sure I'm going to have much of a chance with you. There's too much distance. And I suspect I'm in the way of what you want to do with your life. Am I right?”

“Let's just live for the day, Cal. It's not an easy situation. Right now, I'm still trying to get my career straightened out.”

“Okay. You're being noncommittal again. But I understand that. I just want you to know that I've never known anyone quite like you.” He lifted his glass. “To you, Priscilla. Thanks for the moment.”

 * * * 

THEY STOPPED BY
the Lookout Lounge, to have a drink and watch the Earth turn, or the Moon, or sometimes just sit in the starlight, while pop music played softly in the background. “You still plan to come back to Princeton occasionally, right, Priscilla?”

“Yes, Cal,” she said. “Of course. My mom lives there.”

“Can I get you to agree to let me know in advance when you're coming?”

“I'll try, Cal. But I tend to be forgetful sometimes.”

He grinned. This guy was not going to be easy to discourage. “Maybe I need to pop in up here more often.”

Shuttle tickets weren't cheap. Priscilla got them at a substantial discount. But Cal had a healthy income. It probably didn't matter much to him. “Look,” she said, “now that you're here, why don't you plan on staying the night? You still have time to change your reservation.”

“I'd love to, Priscilla.” Those brown eyes lit up. “Did you mean, with you?”

“I have a sofa.”

 * * * 

SHE LED HIM
back to her apartment, unsure whether she'd done the right thing. The truth was, she'd have liked to give herself to him. The guy looked good, he loved her, and she liked him. That should be enough. But she wasn't sure that she should encourage him. It was hard to see how any permanent relationship could evolve out of their circumstances. And she didn't want to hurt him for the sake of her own sexual pleasure.

So, when they arrived in the apartment, she immediately arranged pillows on the sofa so there'd be no misunderstanding. But, a few minutes later, she took him into her bedroom.

 * * * 

THE SECOND ORFANO
mission was getting itself together. They were down working every day prepping the
Venture
, storing supplies, loading gear that, when assembled, would constitute the shelter. She couldn't help feeling jealous. The sense of being left out was intensified by the fact that the
Venture
was the ship she'd used to retrieve Monika Wolf from Selika. It was a Kosmik vehicle, of course, but they had no immediate need of it, and Broderick was undoubtedly happy to lease it to the Academy for a few weeks.

She'd have enjoyed taking her tour groups inside it, but the bombing of the
Gremlin
, even though it had been the act of one of their own people, had changed all that. Tourists were no longer permitted access to the ships. So the experience wasn't what it had been, but she took them close enough that they could see the
Venture
and watch supplies being loaded. She even saw Jake on two occasions, but he appeared not to notice her.

There were rumors that he was coming back permanently, that he'd signed on with Interstellar Transport, but she heard nothing official.

She didn't get a chance to talk to him, and it seemed best not to call. So she simply took her tour groups down and showed them the
Venture
and the
Baumbachner
and the
Sydney Thompson
, which was in port for several days.

Then, one morning, the
Venture
was gone.

 * * * 

NEWSDESK

MCGRUDER CAUGHT ON LIVE MIKE: ENJOYS MAHLER

Gaffe May Undercut Him with Base

ANTITERRAFORM GROUP SEIZED IN OKLAHOMA

Planned to Bomb Space Station

Infiltrated by FBI: “Never a Danger”

TORNADO HITS OTTAWA

Two Dead; 23 Injured

Power Loss Restored within Hours

MEYER'S PROSTITUTE WAS POLITICAL ACTIVIST

Withdraws from Missouri Race

ATTACK ADS GET PERSONAL AS CAMPAIGN INTENSIFIES

“Idiot” vs “Blockhead”

Editorial: Campaign on Issues

Were Politics Really Less Nasty in the Old Days?

INDUSTRIAL AVERAGE PASSES 100,000

Wall Street Celebrates

Bickley: “Affirmation of the President's Economic Policies”

MY FAIR LADY
REVIVAL GOES INTO FOURTH YEAR

Twentieth-Century Musical Boffo at Box Office

RAKOVIC FACES WORLD COURT

Ex-Dictator Charged with Crimes Against Humanity

Demonstrators Demand Death Penalty

MORE TORNADOES HIT MIDWEST

Wind Speed in Three Kansas Storms Reaches 170 mph

BREAKTHROUGH IN EDUCATION

Parental Involvement Critical Factor

 * * * 

THE WASHINGTON POST
COLUMN

by Anika Avery

We had a report a few days ago that invisible aliens have been found on a sunless world. The expedition that discovered them returned last week to the space station. The first question that comes to mind is: How can we be sure the expedition came back alone . . . ?

JAKE BOARDED THE
Venture
a half hour before the scheduled departure time and got a surprise. Samantha Campbell, the Academy Project director, was seated in the passenger cabin. “Dr. Campbell,” he said, “it's good of you to come see us off.”

“Not at all, Jake. I'm going with you.”

“You are? Well, welcome aboard.”

“Thank you.” She looked genuinely pleased to see him. “Since we're going to be together for a while, you probably should call me
Samantha
.” She started to drift off the chair, grabbed a restraint, laughed, and hauled herself back. “No way I'd miss this one.”

“I'm not sure I'd get my hopes up.”

“We'll see how it plays out.”

Jake smiled. “Maybe we'll get lucky.” He went onto the bridge, said hello to Lily, and began his routine check. It included ensuring they had a pallet to retrieve Otto's body.

The rest of the team trooped in a few minutes later. He could hear them talking, laughing, saying how this was the mission they'd all waited for. Mission of a lifetime. When he'd finished, Jake went back into the cabin, and Samantha introduced them. Tony and Mary Carpenter, she explained, had been with several high-stakes Academy expeditions before. They'd penetrated a library on Nok and made off with as much reading material as they could carry. “One of them—one of the Noks—saw us as we were heading for the lander,” said Tony, smiling at his blond wife. “I guess we scared the devil out of it.”

“He's not kidding,” said Mary. “It screeched and ran into a wall.”

“They don't look so good themselves,” said Tony, who realized halfway through what he was saying. “Not that
you
don't look good, hon.”

Mary had nothing to worry about. But the Noks, of course, were long, spindly creatures, all eyes and husk and clutching jaws, and the color of dried grass. Not exactly showstoppers. At least not in a positive sense.

Brandon Eliot was the Academy's hi-tech guy. He'd be responsible for getting the shelter put together when they decided on a site for it. Brandon was chunky, a little less than average height, about fifty years old. Usually, when Jake saw him in the Cockpit or the Pilots' Club, he had a looker on his arm. And it seemed never to be the same one twice.

Denise Peifer was a specialist in extraterrestrial biology. Denise was gorgeous, with light brown hair, a captivating smile, and penetrating brown eyes. She sat down beside Jake. “Drake asked me to say hello,” she said.

“Drake?” He had to think about it. Oh, Drake Peifer. “You're his wife?”

“His sister.” Denise was momentarily amused. Then it was on to the serious stuff: “I hope you got everything right, Jake. It sounds as if there's something really weird going on out there. But I'll tell you”—she was talking to Samantha now—“if we find something alive on a world that hasn't had sunlight for millions of years, I will be shocked. In fact—”

“I get your point,” said Samantha. “But you've seen the report. And if you have any questions, the guy who wrote it is right here.”

They all looked at him, and Jake avoided their eyes. He didn't want to be responsible for taking anybody on a long wild-goose chase. If that was the way it turned out. “It
was
strange,” he said. “But the report is as accurate as we could make it.”

 * * * 

WITHIN A FEW
minutes after clearing the station, Samantha joined him on the bridge. “Jake,” she said, “I was looking at the pictures you got of the landscape.”

“You mean the artwork?”

“Yes. That's what it looks like, doesn't it?”

He nodded. “It's hard to see how those curving hills and domed peaks and the rest of it could have happened naturally.”

“You have any theories?”

“None.”

“Tell me about the rain. Was it falling everywhere across the area?”

“No. It only extended a few meters out from Priscilla and me.”

“Your own private shower?”

“Something like that.”

 * * * 

PRISCILLA HAD BEEN
good company during that long qualification flight. But as amiable and easygoing as she was, Jake knew that having several people on board constituted a vast improvement in social atmosphere. Given a group, you almost always got a conversational flow, and the content was much less predictable. In addition, Tony was an accomplished violinist.

Within an hour after they'd submerged and were on their way to Orfano, they'd gotten into several debates. Samantha thought that some of the more radical physicists might well be right in claiming that the universe was an illusion. Tony, a mathematician with a conservative taste in politics, found himself in a duel with Denise, who had a liberal mind-set. Mary, at one point, asked him to shut up. Tony commented that he was only upset that he was being cut off from the presidential campaign as it was heating up. “I'm just saying the timing for all this could have been better.”

“We could have gotten someone else to come,” Samantha told him.

“No, no,” he said. “Don't misunderstand me. I wouldn't miss this for anything. But the economy's been losing ground for years. I'll be surprised if McGruder doesn't walk away with the election.”

“McGruder doesn't have a prayer,” said Mary. Once a reporter for
The New York Times
, she was now a freelance writer, the author of several books on popular science, including the bestseller
Clockwork
.

Denise looked around at her colleagues. “I wonder if there's any possibility we could discover something out there that would impact the presidential race.”

And so it went.

 * * * 

MARY SPENT A
lot of time taking notes, and Jake got the impression that, if they were successful, everything they said would show up in an autobiography, or a bestseller.

Denise was so excited by the mission, she had trouble sleeping. She was full of theories about the prospects on Orfano. “It's possible,” she said, “that the world was home to a hypercivilization when it was ripped out of orbit. If you have enough technology, you can survive pretty much anything. They'd have had to go underground, though.”

Mary was skeptical. “If they were a hyper, couldn't they have prevented it? Kept their world in orbit?”

“How,” asked Tony, “would an underground civilization have stepped in to prevent the lander from going down?”

“I didn't say they'd have been
limited
to being underground. That's just where they'd live. But for all we know, they're wandering around out here themselves.”

“If they could do that, wouldn't they have moved to a sunnier world?” asked Mary. “Someplace warm?”

“Maybe,” said Denise, “some wanted to stay home. Like people who won't leave town when a hurricane's coming.” She looked at Jake. “You were there. What do you think?”

Jake had no clue. “It looked to me like nothing but ice and rock. I couldn't imagine anything living there. Still, we
did
see lights.”

“None of it makes any sense,” said Tony. “A hypercivilization would have moved the world elsewhere, or encased it, or done something that we'd be able to see.”

“Well,” said Samantha, “there
is
the artwork.”

“You think that's really what it is?” asked Tony.

“I've talked to a number of specialists. Nobody can account for it as a natural occurrence.”

“Whatever they might be,” said Mary, “they didn't attack Priscilla and Jake. That suggests they might be pretty advanced.”

Denise smiled. “Maybe they saw no need to attack anybody. Maybe they concluded we're not very bright and pose no threat.” She realized what she'd said and looked at Jake. “I guess I didn't phrase that very well, Jake. That's not quite what I meant.”

He laughed. “It's all right, Denise. I've been called worse.”

Her smile widened. “I guess we can all see who's the dummy around here. But seriously, there are other possibilities. They've had millions of years. At least. They may have been initially underground, but eventually they could have transformed into something else entirely. They may have adapted to the cold. They may have gotten control of the climate. We tend to assume you have to have sunlight and water to have life. That's not necessarily true.”

“Can you offer any examples, Denise?” asked Samantha.

“We have life-forms in the oceans that have never seen the sun. Though I'll confess you probably have to have it, along with water, to get started. But life is tenacious. Once it gets rolling, it's very good at adapting.”

“Maybe,” said Tony, “intelligent life
is
there, but on a very small scale. So small we wouldn't be able to see their cities.”

Denise's eyes sparkled. “Tony, that may be pushing it a bit.”

 * * * 

THE OFFICIAL PURPOSE
of the mission was to recover Otto's body. That was a relatively prosaic, if requisite, matter, but Samantha explained they didn't want to get everyone excited about aliens, then look foolish if they came home with no answers. But the actual intention was to determine what precisely had happened to the
Vincenti
lander. How had it gotten almost intact to the ground? “What we'll do,” she said, “is just try to get some indication whether the business with the lander could have been, in any way, the result of natural causes. Or whether something else is happening.”

 * * * 

DENISE WAS A
fitness nut. The interstellars all had a workout room, and it was usually cramped and boring. This one was no exception. Priscilla had ignored the one on the
Copperhead
. Jake was inclined not to bother either when he didn't have company. So he'd gained a few pounds on that certification flight.

The
Venture
had a treadmill and a stationary bike. And Denise produced an elastic cord two feet long. “It functions as a bungee.”

“In what way?” asked Jake.

“Come on. I'll show you.” She demonstrated, using it to stretch arms and legs. Jake tried it.

“The best way to do it,” she said, “is for us to play tug-of-war.”

“In zero gravity?” asked Jake.

“Try it.”

Each took one end of the bungee and grabbed hold of a handrail. Then they began to pull. The cable tightened, and Jake got surprised when Denise, who wasn't much more than half his size, yanked him off his feet. He quickly discovered that hanging on to both the cord and the handrail was tricky. It didn't help that he began to laugh. Finally, he released his hold on the rail and, as he was dragged through the air, lapsed into hysterics.

Odd things happen in zero gee.

Tony and Mary came in to see what the commotion was. “Don't worry about it, Jake,” Tony said. “She does that to everybody.”

 * * * 

AT THE BEGINNING
of his career, Jake had thought of the pleasures of starflight as being contained in the arrival at whatever far-flung destination, with its alien sunlight and its family of planets, with the vast oceans sometimes found on Goldilocks worlds, with rings and moons and comets, with the potential for other life-forms and always, especially, the possibility of a new civilization. That was what it had been about.

But he'd quickly discovered that there was an interior pleasure to be had as well, derived from sharing the experience with others driven by similar passions. Even to the extent of simply taking advantage of the sense of being together in a place so distant from the rest of humanity. It reminded him of how fortunate he was. And that he had no way to explain any of this to Alicia. He realized that he'd blundered. He should have found a way weeks ago to take her on a flight. When he got home, he'd do it. No way she could decline.

 * * * 

LIBRARY ENTRY

The more we study art, the less we care for nature. What art really reveals to us is nature's lack of design, her curious crudities, her extraordinary monotony, her absolutely unfinished erudition.

—Oscar Wilde,
The Decay of Lying
, 1889