The Solar Sea (27 page)

"Huh, what?” Jefferson looked around and realized the president had finished speaking. He pulled himself into the chair and asked Myra to replay the message while he tried to think of a response. “I'm getting too old for this,” he muttered to himself.

Natalie Freeman drifted into her quarters and strapped herself into a chair. As she suspected, there was a sub-carrier message from the president tacked onto the main message. She played it. At the end of the message, her jaw dropped open. She played it again and shook her head. “He can't do this."

She sent her response. An hour later, the president sent a reply. “Your orders stand, Captain Freeman."

Jonathan Jefferson was just drifting off to sleep when Myra's voice sounded from the intercom. “Captain, I've just monitored a transmission from Quinn Corp on Earth. Do you want me to send it down there?"

"Yes, please do.” He flicked on the light.

Jefferson inclined his head when a man's face appeared on his viewer. He looked remarkably like Pilot only he wore a business suit and was older and heavier. “Mr. Jefferson, my name is Jerome Quinn. I understand you left a position at Martin-Intelsoft to become captain of the
Aristarchus.
Though I suspect that Martin would love to have you back, we've recently found an opening for an engineer of your talents and experience. When you get within range, please call my office and we'll set up a meeting."

Captain Jefferson sighed and replaced the transmission from Earth with the movie from Jupiter. He froze the image at one particularly stunning view of the clouds and smiled, thinking that would make a good picture to adorn the wall of a cubicle.

Natalie Freeman knocked on Pilot's door. She thought she heard a muffled “come in” from within. She opened the door and went inside. Thomas Quinn floated in a lotus position a few inches above his bed. There was a deep frown etched on his face. “I'm sorry,” he said, sadly. “I shouldn't have put the ship in danger."

"I'm glad to hear that you're sorry.” Natalie drifted into the room. “I wish we would have stuck to the original plan. We could have been back out here in only a couple of years. You need to learn patience."

"I know.” Pilot's voice was barely above a whisper. He turned and looked at Natalie. “How much trouble am I in?"

"If Jonathan Jefferson had his way, you'd be skinned alive,” she said, frankly. “However, the president and I have a different view. Your father's the owner of this ship, therefore you're entitled to some slack as far as maritime—and space—law is concerned."

"Okay,” said Pilot, slowly. “So, what does that mean?"

"The president tells me that your father had very mixed feelings when he figured out that his number one employee was really his son hiding behind a persona. He's disappointed that you would resort to trickery, but impressed that you could pull it off."

"My father told me he thinks I need the discipline of the military,” said Pilot nodding.

"And the president told me I'm the one to give you that discipline.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You are to come and work for NASA. Rodasa said you're closer than you know to working out what the chronotons can do for humans. You will be working for me when you figure it out."

"My father agreed to that?” asked Pilot.

"It would seem your father gave a very substantial campaign contribution to the president to make that happen. I gather Quinn Corp will, in exchange, get certain patent and trading rights. They're already referring to the chronotons as Quinnium."

"You don't seem too happy about that,” said Quinn. He looked away. “I can't say as I blame you after what I did."

"Mr. Quinn, after you work for me for a few months, you may wish I threw you in jail, but I agree with the president about one thing. It would be a waste to lock you up."

"What about the others?” asked Pilot. “What about Berko, LaRue, Rodriguez, and Chung? What happens to them?"

"The Rd'dyggians needed technical help when they grappled onto the ship. I convinced the captain to rescind his order to confine them to quarters. They've been back to work for the last two days. They can either work for us, or I suspect your father will keep them on if they choose not to."

"Good.” Pilot looked down at his hands. “They're good people. They only wanted to help me see the mission succeed."

"They're not the only ones.” Natalie reached out and touched Pilot's shoulder. “Your mission was fine, whether it was to build a solar sail for its own sake or to seek out the chronotons. The problem was that you put the mission above everyone, including your friends."

Pilot nodded, understanding.

"I'll keep a watch on you from now on,” continued Natalie. “You see, I expect you to figure out the chronotons and I expect you to build me a bigger and better ship for the return to Titan. I don't accept what our ‘game keeper’ called us. We humans are not primitive, and I'm going to work you day and night until you help me prove that, mister. The stars are our destiny. Are you with me?"

Thomas Quinn reached out and shook Natalie Freeman's hand. “We will sail the solar sea again, I promise."

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David Lee Summers is an author, editor and astronomer living somewhere between the western and final frontiers in Southern New Mexico. His other novels are
The Pirates of Sufiro, Children of the Old Stars, Heirs of the New Earth
and
Vampires of the Scarlet Order.
His short stories and poems have appeared in such magazines as
Realms of Fantasy, Cemetery Dance, Star*Line, The Martian Wave,
and
The Santa Clara Review.
David is also the founding editor of
Tales of the Talisman
Magazine. When he's not writing, David is paving the way for ships like the
Aristarchus,
by operating telescopes at Kitt Peak National Observatory in Arizona.

Learn more about David and his writing at www.davidleesummers.com.

Visit www.lachesispublishing.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.