Tomorrow’s Heritage (10 page)

Todd waited a painfully long time for a reply. His shock deepened as the moments passed. Kevin and Mari were silently swapping opinions, and he was locked out. He hadn’t realized this wall had come between them. When the missile shattered the torus sections, buffers had gone up to protect the survivors. There was a buffer between him and his sister now, too, and Todd had no weapons to break it down except words and a lifetime of love.

Then, just as he had begun to despair, Marietta stretched her hand to him. He seized it as he would a lifeline. She was still angry, but there was love in her pale eyes, too. The wall
could
be breached!

“We trust you, Todd,” she said very softly. Her fingers tightened about his, her short nails digging into his flesh. He endured that, feeling the high-strung nature of her emotions. Even a hurtful touch was better than no touch at all.

Todd struggled to collect his thoughts. “This tape was made October ninth? Just a week after I was here. My God,” he breathed. “Today’s December fifteenth. How . . . how many attacks in all?”

“Four, counting today’s.” Todd’s jaw dropped at McKelvey’s response. Kevin shrugged. Perhaps he could accept the horror with such courage because of his background and training. “Mari wanted to call you today, while we were scrambling. I couldn’t let her. We were on full scrambler. Nothing to help the missile track us, no personal messages. We didn’t have any time to spare. It’s damned fortunate Unit Three was on patrol out where they were. Do you understand what I’m saying, Todd?”

“Not really. Gib said our shuttle wasn’t the target, that we just got in the way . . .”

“That’s right.” Marietta explained as she would to a child. “They shadowed you, using the shuttle’s systems output as a screen. They must have figured, after Pat’s little speech, that the Colony would be in too much of an uproar to stay on top of the defense scans.”

Todd laughed weakly. “This . . . this is impossible. This whole mess. You put classified military equipment in my shuttle. Okay, after today, I appreciate the fact that I’m still alive partially because of that equipment. But the stuff also makes me fair game for whoever’s . . . who
is
launching these attacks?”

He couldn’t imagine why he hadn’t asked that earlier. The gray medications and stresses must be heavier than he had realized; either that, or he was getting old.

They were maddeningly quiet for so long he wanted to yell at them.

“When we’re sure, we’ll tell you,” Kevin said at last. “They’re obviously putting the missiles together in orbit, covering their activities with jammers, maybe with holomodes to pass the missiles off as empty space or orbiting junk, until they’re ready to launch. They’re not amateurs. It’s either bootleg materiel or captured war booty. Damned good stuff, too,” he added, admiring the enemy’s ingenuity and cunning. Kevin locked his large hands behind his golden head and tilted far back in his chair, threatening to overturn it. “The birds disintegrate both what they impact and themselves. The launchers don’t want to leave us any leftovers to trace back to them, obviously. What they apparently hadn’t thought out is—we can sweep up the dust in our net and sift through the pieces until we pin down their identities.”

“Net?” Todd brightened. “Of course! The mass driver package collection station. It must work just as well on missile pieces as it does on lunar soil being lobbed up from the Moon.”

Kevin grinned, a predatory leer. “You named it. But
you’re
a Spacer. Even though they’re building in orbit, they’re not. Eventually, we’ll have it all analyzed.”

“Good! Rely on it, that’s what you need,” Todd said. “While you do that, let me handle the groundwork. I can spread this news worldwide on ComLink. When we haul the hard evidence into P.O.E.’s court, we can slap sanctions on your attackers and cut them off at the ankles. Listen, don’t wait. Go with what you’ve got right now. I don’t know why you’re sitting on it. We have to stop this before anyone else gets hurt. The Space Neutrality Treaty—”

Their response was less obscene than Gib Owens’s, but equally contemptuous. “Don’t quote that farce,” Mari retorted. “The Earth Firsters have ignored any treaty that gets in their way, especially anything pertaining to Goddard. And now that they have the Chairmanship practically in their pockets, they’ll bury us.”

“Are you implying Pat’s responsible for these attacks?” Fists clenched, Todd half rose from his chair, anger overcoming common sense. Kevin’s own chair came down with a thump, and the man was ready to fight back if Todd crossed over the line. It wouldn’t be a contest.

Mari caught Todd’s arm, urging him to sit down. “No! Not Pat!” she cried. “Not . . . personally.”

The fact that she qualified her retraction shook Todd more than anything else she or Kevin had said. He wrenched out of her grasp, walking away from them both, thinking hard.

What was happening to them? How could Mari doubt Pat, even for an instant? Yet . . . how could Pat so ruthlessly cut out Goddard’s planetside allies economically when he knew he was also destroying Goddard in the process? Pat had voted against every funding measure for Goddard for the past year. Earth First Party’s platform was adamantly against Goddard’s continuance. A frivolous waste of Earth’s irreplaceable resources, they called it, shouting down counterarguments, their majority ruling. And Pat was their star, following the party line, swaying global opinion more and more to their side.

Todd came back to the mural of Saunderhome, to Mari. Pat’s dreams and Mari’s were 400,000 kilometers apart. Tentatively, Todd caressed Mariette’s high cheekbone, wanting to recapture the old closeness. Danger was fraying their lifelong affection, trying to pull them apart.

“Mari, Pat can’t see things your way. He’s planet-bound. He always will be, both he and Jael. Space makes them, literally, sick. But that doesn’t mean Pat hates you. Sure, he wants that Chairmanship, wants it more than he ever wanted anything. But even to win votes, do you think he’d order missile attacks against Goddard? Against anyone? Not after what we all lived through in California and outside Chicago during the Death Years, Mari. Life is precious to him,
all
life. He spouts a lot of garbage, I know, in those speeches. But what happened to us, and especially what happened to Dad, shaped his ideas forever.”

His throat ached with suppressed anguish. Marietta cradled her head in his hand, sighing. Kevin didn’t interfere for several long moments. But then he said, “Maybe your brother didn’t sign the orders, Todd. But the Earth First Party has a big interest in wrecking Goddard. You can’t deny that. And Patrick Saunder leads the party. By my definition, that
does
make him responsible for this, even if only indirectly. Ah!” He looked away, gazing out the window at the vacuum barrier that safely shut them off from Section Two’s wreckage. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. Earth wants to get rid of us, and it goes both ways. Only our technique is a trifle different.”

Mari glanced at Kevin searchingly, and he turned toward her. Again they conferred in that private, silent language. This time, though, Todd understood them. “Secession? You can’t pull it off. Not yet.”

“They’re cutting our throats, Todd,” Mari said, chewing her lip. “Too many of our planetside supporters are quitting or bailing out. And plenty are disappearing into Antarctica. No wonder those who are left are scared or becoming too weak to fight back. Dummy corporations and undercover stuff! Somebody’s trying to make the power sat sabotages look like the work of the Ganz-Heil League or the Nakamuras. But we don’t think it is. Whoever they are, they want to destroy Goddard, not just shut us off as an energy source. We won’t play games with Earth First, and Earth First has to rule it all. If they can’t enslave us, they’ll wipe us out!”

“You still haven’t got the clout or the funds to swing total independence. Section Four was an agriculture area, wasn’t it? I thought so. You’re on short rations, have a severe housing crisis, funds drying up, power sats being sabotaged or boycotted . . . you just can’t do it. Not yet. This is the wrong route. I keep telling you, broadcast this. You’re, what, clamping the lid on everything? No leaves? Full censorship? That’s stupid. How long can you hope to hold the blackout? Look, go to Earth with it. I’ll donate all the air time you need. You can have ComLink’s entertainment and docudrama departments, full propaganda push. You don’t have to limp along with just a few staunch planetside allies. Turn Earth’s attitude around. Mari shouldn’t have to bankroll you singlehandedly any more, and I know she’s exhausted her trusts.”

“If Jael would—”

Todd cut his sister off. “You know she won’t. She can’t. She’s plowing everything into Pat’s campaign. You had a third of the inheritance from Dad, Mari. The division was fair, admit it.” He rushed back to the basic topic. “Spread the news. I’ll get you Frank Chabot and Miguel Falco, my best media people. Lay it on. Goddard will be swamped with sympathy and support—and funds! People always root for the underdog.”

“We don’t need their help,” Mariette said pettishly, pulling away from him.

Todd snorted in derision. “Don’t you? Who’s buying Goddard Power Sats’ output if not planetsiders? Where are your new recruits going to come from?”

“We’ll stand by our allies. And when we pinpoint the missile launchers, we’ll handle that. Then we can think about more recruitment.” Mari stood up and began pacing. “Sooner or later, we’re going independent, Todd. There’s no stopping us. So just quit telling us we can’t do it. As for telling Earth about the missile strikes, we’ll probably have to let Fairchild go to Protectors of Earth with the news, whether we like it or not. But not for the reasons you cite.”

Kevin frowned, and Mari continued on in support of their Third Millennium Movement ally. “What else can she do? Pat’s killing Fairchild with the voters, her and Dabrowski and every other Chairmanship candidate. She’s fighting for her political life. We’ve got to crack the barriers, for the Spacers’ sake. That speech of Pat’s! ‘For the good of humanity . . .!’ For the good of Pat Saunder, he would have said if he’d been honest.”

Todd stepped into Mari’s path, holding her. “It is for the good of humanity. Or do you want mankind to head back into the Chaos and the Death Years? Pat and those arbitrators swung some juicy deals for themselves, granted. But they ended the war. It’s called compromise, Mari. Remember? Jael taught the Saunders how to be experts at that. It’s the only way we got out of some mighty tight places. Come on! Pat’s not your enemy. You know that.”

“Do I?” For a fraction of a second, Todd wasn’t in the station. He was hanging in space, his protective suit crumbling away, leaving him naked to high vacuum. Mari sensed his fear, and her arms closed about him. “Oh, Todd! I didn’t really mean that. I wish . . . I wish . . . we’re drifting apart, aren’t we? And I don’t want that to happen.”

He held her tightly. “We won’t let it happen.” Above Mari’s head he saw McKelvey and read warnings in the big man’s face. Jealousy. Not sexual jealousy, but a fierce possessiveness that didn’t grant much space even to a brother. Todd sensed he was on thin ice. “We won’t let it,” he repeated insistently. He looked from Mari to Kevin and back again. “It’s not too late to mend fences, unless you’re planning to take off for Mars tomorrow.”

Todd had the rare pleasure of seeing Kevin McKelvey at a loss. “How did you . . .? You saw her, when you were coming in? But . . .” For a moment, the cool soldier’s demeanor cracked. Kevin was ingenuously startled.

“Give me credit for some brains. I read your propaganda. I keep up on
all
the family’s projects.” Todd grinned and tapped a finger to his forehead. “It goes with the telecom business. Anything you want to know, I’ve got the resources to dig it out. I don’t make a bad intermediary for family squabbles, either.” Mariette hugged him roughly, pretending to be annoyed. Todd savored the lightness as long as he dared. Then he sobered. “You can’t afford a Mars colony. I can show you the stats, if you’re ignoring them yourselves. You must know you’re not ready . . .”

“Mankind’s never ready for the new and daring, the exploration. If we waited until all the problems were solved, enough funds piled up, we’d never go anywhere. We’d die out as a species. That’s why we’re going now, ready or not, while we’ve got the courage and the will.” Kevin spoke with calm confidence. Mari nodded, fire in her eyes, excited by the prospect. “We know what the difficulties are, yes,” Kevin went on. “But those won’t hold us back. We’re going to Mars, and beyond. There’s a Solar System, a universe . . . waiting for us. The planetsiders can crawl in their holes and stagnate. Our destiny’s tied to the stars.”

He made Todd believe, suspended his doubts, for the moment. There was no logical argument against such idealism. Kevin was right, in some respects; it took just that kind of daring to get this job done. Yet throughout human history, such ventures triumphed at a high price— explorers’ lives and the aftereffects of opening those new frontiers. Inevitably, what the Colonists meant to do would affect all mankind.

Todd shook his head. “The fact remains, you can’t really afford it, any more than Earth could afford the Trans-Pacific war. There’s going to be a heavy bill to pay, for Mars and for Earth. Earth isn’t going to recuperate for decades. Mari, you know Pat won’t get the payoff right away. He’ll hurt, for now. So will I. But it’s worth it, to stop the killing. Isn’t it worth it to you?” The situation wasn’t equal. He and Pat had diversified. Mari had plowed her fortune into Goddard and borrowed against her future inheritance from Jael as well. Unless the Colony made it, Mariette would be bankrupt.

“Peace at a price,” Mariette said sadly. “And somehow I always pay the biggest portion. Why doesn’t it go both ways? Why isn’t someone willing to pay a price to bring Goddard peace and stop killing our people?”

“They will be—”

Kevin broke in, his deep voice hard. “Even if Fairchild breaks the news about the missile attacks, they won’t stop. You’re naive if you think they will, Todd. Oh, they’ll probably form an investigative committee and make a lot of horrified noises. But our enemies aren’t going to pay much attention to that. There’s too much at stake. They’re not going to give up until we stop them ourselves.”

The ominous tone turned Todd’s gut to ice. “Wipe them out, whoever they are? Then what? You abandon Earth, turn your back on it and head out to Mars? Forget the rest of us. We’re dinosaurs, already extinct. Is that your feeling?”

Kevin seemed a bit uncomfortable. “No, not exactly. But the future means an inevitable separation between the Spacers and the Earth-bound. There’s no other course. For now, well, we have friends down there. We’ll stick by them as long as we can. We don’t want anything to happen to them.”

Todd feared this was a prelude to more paranoiac talk about SE Antarctic Enclave. “Tell Pat what you think and how you feel. Tell him to his face. Give him a chance to defend himself against your accusations. Anybody deserves that, Mari, even your own brother.”

“That’s not fair,” she protested.

“Yes, it is. You accused him. Maybe he’s accusing you, on other counts. Hell, I don’t know. We hardly ever get together as we used to.” It was so. Time passing too quickly, people he loved slipping away from one another and from him. And there was a time when they had mattered more to each other than anything else in the world.

“Jael put you up to this, didn’t she? She wants you to drag me to Dad’s birthday anniversary.” There was less rancor in Mariette’s manner than Todd had feared.

“I want you to come, too. So does Pat. He said to tell you he misses you. Yes, he did, don’t shake your head. You two always were too bullheaded. Jael figured I might be able to coax you into kissing and making up, despite everything.” Such teasing had worked when they were kids. Now he felt stubborn resistance. Maybe he had said too much, too little, or said it in the wrong way. He gazed at Mariette, seeing the reckless little girl. Impatient, she had skinned knees and elbows countless times rather than wait or use caution. He knew what it felt like, wanting to own, to possess something unique and precious.

The stars.

I want the stars, too, Mari. And I’ve already touched them, through the alien messenger. Wait. Just a little while longer. Don’t hurt yourself with your impatience this time.

I want to tell you. But I can’t. It has to be equal—all of us together, sharing. I resented Pat’s holding back information from me. Now 1 realize I’m doing the same thing to you and Pat and Mother. But please . . . wait. It will be worth it. You’ll see . . .