Infinity Beach (23 page)

“Kim—”

“I mean it, Solly. I’ll do what I have to.”

“I believe you would.”

“Solly, I can’t just walk away from this. If we’re right, it’ll be the prime scientific discovery of all time. We’ll be famous, immortal, whatever you like.”

“Rich?” said Solly.

“I’d guess rich beyond imagination.”

“Yeah. Well, rich is good. But the risk is a little high. You’re going to have to count me out, Kim. I’m sorry, but I draw the line at grand theft. Which is what this would be.” His features were flushed, his lips pressed tight together, his eyes hard. “I’m sorry. But this is way out of line.”

Yeah. How could she have expected anything else? “I understand, Solly.”

“How about chartering a ship? Better yet, rent one. I’ll pilot.”

She’d considered it. But she needed the specialized communication equipment of the Institute vessels.

“I’ll help you pay for it,” he said.

“Won’t work. We need FAULS.” That was the Flexible Array, Unified Long-range Sensing System. If somebody did a radio broadcast a hundred light-years out, FAULS would pick it up.

“Kim,” he said. “Let it go.”

Hyperyacht, Inc., had an assortment of interstellars ranging from sleek executive models to economy-class buses. But the cheapest were not licensed for voyages outside the Nine World bubble, and the better ones were impossibly expensive. Worse, even if she could somehow meet the cost and persuade the Institute to let her have the communication gear, it couldn’t be installed.

She put it aside and went home to stare at the ocean.

And to send out résumés. They went to a dozen research institutions around the globe, but she had little hope any would respond favorably. There wasn’t much to put in the
Current Projects
and
Recent Accomplishments
blocks.

I am on the verge of making contact with an intelligent species.

Sure I am.

She could have undoubtedly gotten a job somewhere as a fund-raiser, but she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life pleading for money. Might as well simply retire to a leisurely existence like the majority of the population. Accept her monthly government allotment and sit on the porch.

She took to haunting the shoreline. The beach was especially appealing in winter, and its bleakness fit her mood. There was rarely anyone else out. Dressed in an insulated suit, she circled the island every day, moving at a rapid clip, stopping occasionally to look at the shells.

A seacoast is a special kind of place, she thought. It’s like the edge of a forest, or the foothills of a mountain range, where we stand at the rim of our daily existence, looking out at something quite different. Occasionally Kim would stay out past twilight, watching the tide run, letting the night roll
into her soul. The beach was a sacred place to her, one of those areas where the infinite touches down.

She was in the presence of
two
oceans, one of water and one of space-time, and they somehow tended, after dark, to get mixed together. Pick the right spot, where the only real sound is the murmur of the surf, and it was possible to stroll along the damp sand and feel her blood run in sync with the tides.

An ocean’s edge is by definition a meeting place between the magnificent and the mundane. We listen to seashells and hear our own heartbeat.

When she got home each day, there was a message waiting from Solly:
You okay? How’s everything going? I’ve talked to the people at Albestaadt
.
They’ve got a position for you if you want it. You’ll have to interview for it, of course, but the fix is in. I’ve told them about you and they’re excited at the prospect.

She responded by thanking him politely:
Thanks for your efforts but I don’t think so.

The Moritami Orbital Research Center surprised her by inviting her in to interview for an entry-level researcher’s position. It was conducted at their administrative offices in Marathon and she did well. Interviews were one of her specialties. When they informed her she’d have to live off-world, she knew she had the job. They told her they’d call her and she came back out into the hard sunlight with mixed feelings. But the bright side was she’d be doing astrophysics again.

Again.

Truth was, she’d never really functioned within her specialty.

When she got home, Solly was waiting.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

She wasn’t surprised that he knew. The world community of physicists and astronomers was tight-knit. Information usually got around pretty quickly. “Okay,” she said. “I think they’re going to take me on.”

He was dressed in seagoing casuals, and wore his captain’s cap with its anchor emblem. The cap was pushed over to one side, an affectation he indulged only in her presence because he knew it made him look ridiculous and inevitably cheered her. “So you finally got what you want.”

“Yes.”

“No more fund-raising.”

“Nope.”

“Maybe this thing’ll turn out to be a blessing.”

There was something about the phrase, or maybe his tone, or maybe simply his presence. Because suddenly she was angry and her eyes were damp. She wanted so desperately to follow the track of the
Hunter
. To find out what was out there. To find out what had happened to Emily.

“It’s okay, babe,” he said. He pulled her close and stroked her hair.

“You’re getting your cheek wet,” she said.

He held onto her until she calmed down. Then he stepped back and his blue eyes grew intense. “Listen.” He took off his cap, ran his fingers through his hair, and put it back on. Straight, this time. “If you’re still up to it, we can take the
Hammersmith
.”

She looked at him, not sure she’d heard correctly. “You talked them into letting us use one of the ships?”

“Not exactly,” he said. “But I guess maybe we could
take
it.”

Twenty minutes later, she called Moritami. “Thanks for considering me,” she told them. “But I’m going to be unavailable for awhile.”

“Do you know,” asked Solly, “how long it would take to get out into the area where the Hunter was?”

“It’s forty days, seventeen hours, and twenty-six minutes to the target site.”

“I’m impressed. You’ve done your homework.”

“Thank you.”

“Now all you need is a means of transportation.” His gaze turned inward. “If we do this, we’re putting everything on the line. Career, freedom, reputation, you name it. So my question to you is, are you sure?”

“Solly,” she said. “It’ll work. I
know
it’ll work.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

“Am I sure I want to do whatever’s necessary to get at the truth? Yes. Absolutely. Am I sure we’re on the right track?” She had to think about that one. But the cold mad gaze of the thing in the water had imprinted itself in her soul, where it exercised a dual effect: something
had
happened out there, and part of it has infected the Severin Valley; but she wasn’t sure she wanted to get any closer to it. This was a truth that she’d just as soon avoid.

And yet.

“Yes,” she said.

“Okay then. We’ll do it. Fortunately the
Hammersmith
is prepped, groceries on board, water tanks full, and ready to leave for Taratuba.”

She watched him breathe. “Solly,” she said, “it’ll be okay. We do this, they’ll get upset for a while. But we’ll bring back evidence of a
contact
. They’ll meet us with a brass band.”

Taking the
Hammersmith
should have been childishly easy. The Institute was meticulous about having its maintenance routines performed early. Solly, who’d been assisting with logistics for the mission, had already seen to stocking the vessel, so it should just have been a matter of walking on board, powering up, passing a satisfactory story to operations, and launching. But Worldwide Interiors had offered to redesign the living and working quarters on the
Hammersmith
, gratis, and several of their people were still on the ship when Kim and Solly arrived, twenty-two hours prior to scheduled departure for Taratuba.

Kim had never before been on the
Hammersmith
. After a quick inspection, Solly admitted that Worldwide had indeed improved the interior. “Although there was plenty of room for improvement,” he added.

Four workers were laying carpet, installing furniture, and redesigning cosmetics throughout the ship. Even the cargo hold had acquired a fresh coat of mahogany paint.

The Institute’s fleet, which consisted of five vessels, was maintained at the Marlin Orbital Dock. They’d ridden over from Sky Harbor in a shuttle, picked up their bags at the service desk, and walked them on board, past the Marlin crew chief and a couple of operations people. As Solly had assured her would happen, no one asked any questions.

She’d gotten a look at the
Hammersmith
from the approach shuttle. It was a reconverted yacht, a boxy vehicle with three levels. Living quarters, including the pilot’s room, were located on the top floor; labs, more living quarters and recreational areas were in the middle section; the utility deck, housing cargo, life support, and storage were below.
Engineering occupied the lower two levels at the rear of the craft.

Whatever ambiance might have existed in its luxury days had later been sacrificed to the gods of utility. Despite the new paint and the new carpets,
Hammersmith
felt like a small hotel that had been let go and was now being refurbished for a new buyer. There was something essentially
threadbare
about it that no amount of restoration could hide.

The hull was crowded with antennas, sensor dishes, and a host of other devices of whose use Kim had no idea. Its name and designator were imprinted forward, and
SEABRIGHT INSTITUTE,
in large black letters, ran the length of the ship.

Solly told her to choose any compartment she liked. There were eight dedicated to passengers, each designed for two people. The middle units on either side of the hall comprised the pilot’s room and a mission control center. A conference room occupied the rear of the top floor.

She said hello to a man installing stained panels, and saw several others working in the rec room. She picked her quarters, just aft of the pilot’s room, and stowed her gear.

Solly was in the hallway, munching toast. “How are we doing?” she asked.

He held out his hands in a helpless gesture. “Ready to go, as soon as Worldwide gets off.”

“When’s that going to happen?”

“Hard to tell. They don’t seem to be sure themselves.”

“Can’t we ask them to leave?”

“Not without raising some eyebrows.”

She punched in a request for cheese and coffee. “How many are there, Solly? Workers?”

“Four Worldwide people, plus one technician from Marlin.” He looked at the time. “They’ll probably all shut down in a little while for lunch. If they do that, we’ll clear out.”

She looked doubtfully at the food dispenser. “What happens if this thing breaks down?”

Solly went into mission control and opened a panel in the back wall, exposing the automated kitchen. “We can do it
manually if we have to.” He smiled at her. “How about some toast to go with your cheese?”

“No, thanks,” she said.

“We can make twenty pieces at a time,” he observed.

“We have enough food for four months or so?”

“Have no fear. We’ll eat well.
Ham
is stocked for seventeen people for a half-year.” His expression turned serious. “But there
is
something we should talk about.”

“Yes?”

“I know we’re assuming your idea’s going to work, and that coming back here with big news is going to get us off the hook for stealing this little buggy.”

“It’ll happen, Solly.” She picked up her coffee and cheese.

“Maybe. But my experience is that nothing ever goes according to plan. Especially something like this.” They crossed the corridor and looked into the pilot’s room. Three chairs, some consoles, an overhead screen, two auxiliaries each left and right. Two big screens which would act as windows in the left-hand wall. “To be honest, I’m not optimistic. I suspect we’re not seeing something clearly, and I just can’t believe we’re going to go out there and accomplish what you think we will.”

“Okay.” Kim would have liked to have his confidence, but she’d known all along that he was skeptical. No surprise there. Still, hearing it like this: Had he come simply because she needed him? “It’ll be there,” she insisted.

“Okay. Maybe it will. I hope so. But in the meantime we’d be smart to develop an alternative plan.”

“For what happens if we come back with nothing?”

“For what happens if we discover it would be a good idea not to come back.” He took a deep breath. “Look, Kim, neither of us is going to want to face a court.”

“Solly,” she said, “you can still back out if you want.”

“If I did, what would you do?”

She stared silently at her coffee cup.

“Right,” he said. “So I’ll do it—”

“Thanks.”

“No. Not for you. I’m not that crazy. But there’s enough of a chance that you’re right to make it worthwhile. I wouldn’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering. So I’m willing to gamble. But if it doesn’t work, Kim, I have friends on Tigris.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve made arrangements with them. Just in case.”

She nodded.

“If things don’t go the way we want, we’ll retire to a mountaintop on Tigris. They have an extradition treaty with Greenway but it only covers capital crimes. So we’d be safe.”

The Marlin technician went to lunch, but the Worldwide people broke into shifts and the noon hour came and went with no opportunity to leave.

In midafternoon a young beefy man showed up with his luggage. “Uh-oh,” Solly said.

“Who is it?” asked Kim.

“Webley. He’s a cosmologist assigned to the Taratuba team.” They heard him talking in the passageway and Solly went out to greet him. Kim followed.

One of the technicians was pointing Webley in the direction of the living quarters. He wore a self-important smile and when he saw Kim his gaze swept past her as if she were of no consequence. “Solly,” he said, “good to see you. Are the others here yet?”

Solly did the introductions first, and then informed Webley that no one else had yet arrived.

Webley wore a jacket of the type favored in the Kalipik Islands, white shirt with fluffy collar, dark slacks, and a red neckerchief. His voice seemed set quite low so that one had to strain to hear him, but his manner implied it was well worth the effort. He had an unkempt red beard, of a slightly different shade from the neckerchief. “Is everything on schedule?” he asked.

“Yes,” Solly said briskly. “To the minute.”

“Good.” He adjusted his sleeves and checked the time. “May I ask which room is mine?”

“Unit eight,” said Kim. End of the passageway.

When he was gone, Solly turned a worried gaze on her. “This isn’t going so well,” he said. “We may have to cancel.”

Kim shook her head. “Let’s not give up too easily.” She walked down the corridor and passed Webley’s door. Music had begun to play within. Heavy classical stuff. Vorwerk, probably. Or Benado.

She needed to get rid of the workmen first.

The Worldwide crew were still mounting trim, touching up window frames, hanging curtains in the conference room, bolting down a table in the rec area, and installing cabinets on the bottom level. The one who seemed to be in charge was an older man, a candidate for membership with the Mariners.

“How we doing?” she asked casually.

“We’re getting there. We’re a man short on this job,” he said, wiping his sleeve against his mouth. He looked over-heated. “Happens every time. They let something go to the last minute and then somebody decides to take time off.”

“Why’d they wait until the last minute?” asked Kim.

He made a face. “Uh, well, you know, these things happen.” His eyes never met hers and she understood he was lying. The truth, she guessed, was that no money was passing hands. This was a tax write-off job, not high on Worldwide’s priority list.

“Will you be finished by five?” she asked.

“Hard to say.” His expression took her into his confidence. “If we don’t make it, it’s overtime, you know?”

Across the room, the Marlin technician closed a panel and began gathering his gear together.

“Done?” she asked.

“That’s it.” He asked her to initial his work order. He’d updated the VR equipment. She signed; he thanked her and left.

She turned back to the Mariner and asked what his name was.

“Leo Eastley,” he said.

She put on her best executive demeanor. “Leo, you and
your crew have done a good job, but we’re going to have to proceed as is. Leave things where they are. We’ll finish up.”

He looked at her. His silver hair was hanging in his eyes.

“No time left,” she explained.

“Why’s that?” he asked. “I thought we had all day. We’re not finished.”

“We have to run some tests.”

“Go ahead. We won’t get in the way.”

“No, you don’t understand. These are precision mass-acceleration tests. The presence of extra people will skew the results.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. Sorry, but we don’t have any choice.”

“We won’t be coming back. Job’s supposed to be finished today.”

“It’s okay.”

He produced a notepad. “You’ll have to sign that everything’s done and you’re satisfied.”

“Sure. I can do that.”

“I’ll make a notation here about what happened. Warranties may be affected.”

She smiled at him. “It’s okay. We can live with it.”

She signed and initialed the notation. Leo rounded up his crew, and Kim watched them exit through the air lock and start up the tunnel. As the last of them vanished, a luggage cart approached.
“This the
Hammersmith
?”
it asked.

“It is,” said Kim.

The cart scanned the bags.
“Where would you like me to put them?”

“Where are the owners?”

“My last information is, they were headed for Happy Harry’s.”

“Happy Harry’s?”

“A cocktail lounge.”

“On Sky Harbor?”

“Yes.”

“Thanks,” she said. “You can leave it right here.”

“In the tunnel?”

“Yes. It’s okay. I’ll take care of it.” When she was alone she called Solly. “More coming,” she said, looking at the name tags. “Wentworth, Little Deer, Moritami, Henderson. They stopped at a bar.”

“They could be here any time,” Solly said. “We have to get rolling, or forget it.”

“Webley’s still back there. You want to take him along?”

“Do you think he’d want to come?”

“Not likely.”

“Then do something.”

“I was about to.” Webley was a familiar type. He belonged to the relatively small subgroup of researchers who believed with all their hearts that no one had ever seen more clearly into the interior of the atom, or whatever, than they had. That nothing in life was of more importance than their corner of scientific knowledge and the recognition by others of their place in it. Like children, they believed that they were the center of the cosmos. That fact outweighed everything else, and also constituted their prime weakness.

He opened to her knock and gazed at her as if trying to remember who she was and what she was doing in his doorway.

“Professor Webley,” she said. “We’re scheduled to run some engineering tests during the next hour or so. It’s going to get loud, and there’ll be a fair amount of vibration.”

“Oh? They never had to do that before.”

“You probably never arrived this early before.”

“Oh yes, madame, as a matter of fact, I have.”

“Whatever. We’re going to have to go through the basic engine shakedown, and it makes a terrible racket. I was going to head up to the Domino to get away from it.” She inhaled slightly, tilted her head, and summoned the most captivating smile she could manage. “I’d enjoy your company if you’d care to come.”

“Really, Dr. Brandywine, I don’t think—”