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Authors: Jack McDevitt

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BOOK: Infinity Beach
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Like Emily.

One of the saddest places anywhere in the Nine Worlds was the abandoned radio telescope array on the far side of Earth’s moon, designed explicitly to search for artificial radio signals. Far more versatile than anything that had gone before, it had closed down its SETI function after something over a century and a half of futility, and was eventually diverted to other uses. By now, it was obsolete, standing only as a monument to a lost dream.
We’re alone.

There’s never been a signal. Never a sign of a supercivilization building Dyson spheres. Never a visitor. There was really only one conclusion to draw.

She spread her hands helplessly, wondering how to break off the conversation. “Professor—”

“My name is
Sheyel
, Kim.”

“Sheyel. I’m inclined to accept whatever you say simply because it comes from you. But I’m reminded of—”

“—The danger of assigning too much credence to the source when weighing the validity of an argument. Of
course, after this you may categorize me as an unreliable source.”

“I’m thinking about it,” she admitted. “You must know something you haven’t told me.”

“I do.” He rearranged the cushions. “The
Hunter
left St. Johns February twelfth, 573.” St. Johns was an outpost in the Cynex system, last water hole before leaping into the unknown. “They were bound for the Golden Chalice in the Drum Nebula. Lots of old, yellow suns. First stop was to be—” he looked down at something she couldn’t see, “—QCY449187, a class G. But of course they never got that far.”

“They had a problem with the jump engines,” said Kim.

“According to the record, yes. They came out of hyperspace in the middle of nowhere, made temporary repairs, and turned back.

“But they didn’t return to St. Johns. Kane decided St. Johns couldn’t manage the problem. So they came all the way home to Sky Harbor, arriving March thirtieth. It was ironic, of course, that the
Hunter
, whose owner had made a fortune repairing and maintaining jump engines, should suffer such a breakdown. But nevertheless—”

There it was.

“Okay,” said Kim, in a tone that suggested she saw nothing out of the way in any of this.

He produced another picture. Yoshi, Tripley, and Emily in Foundation jumpsuits. Yoshi had chiseled cheekbones and riveting dark eyes. A white scarf highlighted her youth. Kim saw a monogram on the scarf and asked about it.

“It’s a crescent,” he explained. His gaze turned inward. “She liked crescents. Collected them. Wore them as jewelry and monograms.

“Anyway, an hour or so after they docked at Sky Harbor, Yoshi
called
me.”

That got Kim’s attention. “What did she say?”

“‘Granpop, we struck gold.’”

“Gold?”

“That’s right. She said that she’d be in touch, but she couldn’t say anything more for the moment. Asked me to say nothing.”

“Sheyel—”

“It can only have one meaning.”

Kim tried to hide her frustration. “She might have been talking about a romance.”

“She said ‘we.’”

“Did you talk to Kane?”

“Of course. He maintained that nothing unusual happened. He told me he was sorry about the others, all three missing within a few days of the return, but he had no idea what had happened to them.”

She sat watching him a long time. “Sheyel,” she said at last, “I don’t know what you want me to do about any of this.”

“Okay.” His expression revealed nothing. “I understand.”

“To be honest, I haven’t heard anything that persuades me they made contact. That
is
what you’re implying, isn’t it?”

“I appreciate your time, Kim.” He moved to cut her off.

“Wait,” she said. “We’ve both suffered losses in this incident. That’s painful. Especially since we don’t know what happened. My mother was haunted by it until the day she died.” She took a deep breath, knowing this would be a good time to break away. “Is there anything you’re not telling me?”

He watched her for a long moment. “You mentioned contact. I think they brought something back with them.”

The conversation had already been too exotic for anything to surprise her now. But that statement came close. “What kind of
something
?”

“I don’t know.” His eyes flickered and seemed to lose focus. “Read the accounts about the aftermath in the Severin Valley. For years after the explosion, people have claimed they’ve seen things in the woods. Lights, apparitions. There were reports of horses and dogs showing signs of restlessness.”

Kim felt embarrassed for him, and he saw it.

“They abandoned the
town
,” he persisted. “They
left
.”

“They abandoned it because the explosion weakened a dam. The dam was too expensive to repair so the authorities just encouraged everyone to move out. Anyway people had bad memories.”

“They took down the dam,” said Sheyel, “because everyone was leaving. Kim, I’ve been there. There
is
something loose up there.”

She listened to the air currents circulating through the room. “Did you ever
see
anything, Sheyel?”

“I’ve
felt
it. Go look for yourself. After dark. Do
that
much. It’s all I ask.”

“Sheyel—”

“But don’t go alone.”

2

We may never know what really happened at Mount Hope. Those who maintain that a secret government project hidden on the slopes went terribly awry on that April night have to explain how a government notoriously unable to keep any kind of secret could have kept this one for so many years. The theory that the area was struck by a micro black hole seems equally indefensible until someone proves that such an exotic object can even exist. As to the antimatter explanation, the board, after exhaustive investigation, can find no conceivable source. For now, at least, the cause of the Mount Hope event cannot be satisfactorily explained.

—Report of the Conciliar Commission,
March 3, 584

In effect, Kim and her charges, a combination of commentators, contributors, and political heavyweights, were afloat in the void at relatively close range to Alpha Maxim. They were seated in four rows of armchairs, some sipping coffee or fruit juice, one or two pushed back as if it might be possible to fall. The sun’s glare was muted. Its apparent size was about twice that of Helios at noon.

Two clocks, positioned among the stars, counted down to ignition.

Kim, in the rear, was doing a play-by-play. “The LK6 is now two minutes from making its jump into the solar core. When it does, it will try to materialize in an area already
densely packed with matter.” Canon Woodbridge, seated up front, was talking on a phone while he watched.

“This alone would be enough to create a massive explosion. But the LK6 is loaded with a cargo of antimatter. The reaction will be enough to destabilize the star.”

Beside her, a technician signaled that the operation was still on schedule.

“We have a report from the
McCollum
that the last crewmembers have left the
Trent
, and that they have begun to pull away.”

One of the observers wanted to know about safety margins. How long would it take before the shock wave hit the
Trent
?

“There’s no danger to any of the personnel. They’ll be gone long before the first effects of the nova reach their former location. Incidentally, the
Trent
won’t be destroyed by the shock wave. The light will get there first, and that’ll be quite enough.”

Could she explain?

“A nova puts out a lot of photons. Think of a near-solid wall moving at lightspeed.”

The clock produced a string of zeroes.

“Insertion is complete,” she said.

“Kim.” It was the representative of a corporation that almost routinely underwrote Institute activities. “How long will it be before we start to see the first effects?”

“That’s a gray area, Ann. To be honest, we have no idea.”

There were skeptics among the witnesses, some who believed that the Institute had overreached, that blowing up a star was simply beyond human capability. Several, she knew, would have been pleased to see the effort fail. Some did not like the Institute; some did not like its director. Others were simply uncomfortable at the prospect of human beings wielding that kind of power. Woodbridge was among these. Despite his remarks the previous evening, Kim knew that his real misgivings flowed from a basic distrust of human nature.

Minutes passed and nothing happened. She heard something fall and strike the invisible floor. They grew restless. In their experience, explosions were supposed to happen when they were triggered.

The first signs of stress showed up at zero plus eighteen minutes and change. Bright lines appeared around Alpha Maxim’s belt. The chromosphere became visibly turbulent. Fountains of light erupted off the solar surface.

At zero plus twenty-two minutes the sun began to visibly expand. The process was slow: it might have been a balloon filling gradually with water. Enormous tidal forces started to overwhelm the spherical shape, flattening it, disrupting it, inducing monumental quakes.

At twenty-six minutes, eleven seconds, it exploded.

 

It was often possible to make a reasonable guess at a person’s age from the physical characteristics his or her parents had selected. Different eras favored different skin tones, body types, hair colors. Concepts of beauty changed: women from one age tended to be well developed, their centers of gravity, as Solly Hobbs had once remarked, several centimeters in front of them; another era favored willowy, boyish women. Men’s physiques ranged from heroic to slim. The current fashion was to consider bulk as somehow in poor taste. Males born during the next few years were going to resemble a generation of ballet dancers.

During the eighties, parents of both sexes had opted for classic features, the long jawline, eyes wide apart, straight nose. Teenage girls now looked by and large as if they’d stepped down from pedestals in the Acropolis. Kim had come from an earlier time when the pixie look was in vogue. She tried to compensate by maintaining a straightforward no-nonsense attitude, and by avoiding a programmed tendency to cant her head and smile sweetly. She also adapted her hair style to cover her somewhat elvin ears.

Solomon Hobbs was from an age that had favored biceps and shoulders, although he had allowed things to deteriorate
somewhat. Solly was one of the Institute’s four starship pilots. Kim had come to know him, however, not through an official connection, but because of their mutual interest in diving. Solly had been a member of the Sea Knights when Kim joined.

He had clear blue eyes, brown hair that was always in disarray, and a careless joviality that contrasted with a culture that thought of having fun as serious business, something one did to maintain a proper psychological balance.

After the lights came on and her guests had drifted away, Kim caught a cab which deposited her at the foot of Solly’s pier. The dive on the
Caledonian
was to be their way of welcoming the new year. They’d been looking forward to it for weeks, but as they rounded Capelo Island, riding a cold wind, Kim began to describe her conversation with Sheyel. It wasn’t a story she enjoyed telling, because it cast her former teacher as a crank. Yet she felt driven to talk about it. When she finished, he asked gently how much confidence she had in Tolliver.

“If you’d asked me two days ago—” she said.

“People lose touch as they get older.” Solly squinted at the sun. The sloop rose and fell. “It happens.”

They listened to the sea.

“I almost feel,” said Kim, “as if I owe it to Emily to do
something
.”

“Emily would tell you to forget it.”

Kim laughed. That
was
funny. Emily was by no means a mark for every weird idea, but there had been something in her that wanted to get beyond the merely physical universe. Given a choice between daylight and darkness, she’d have opted for the night every time. “No,” she said. “Emily would have wanted me to do
something
. Not just let it go.”

“Like run up to Severin?”

She made a face. “I know. It’s dumb even to think about it.”

Solly shrugged. “Turn it into a vacation.”

“I’m going to have to get back to him. To Sheyel. I don’t like the way we left things.”

“And you don’t want to call him and tell him—”

“—Right. That I didn’t bother to check out the woods.”

They both laughed. The wind brought some spray inboard.

“Solly, I’ll just say I didn’t have time to go. That I’ll get around to it when I can.”

“Didn’t you tell me this guy was a good teacher?”

“Yeah. He was good.”

“And you’re going to tell him you didn’t have time to check something out for him? That you were too busy? Even though your sister was involved?”

“Solly, I don’t really want to get caught up in this.”

“Then don’t.” His sensors picked up the wreck, and he tacked a few points to port. “Moving up on it,” he said.

“I mean, what happens to my reputation if it gets around I’ve gone ghost hunting?”

“Kim, why don’t you take him at his word? We both know you’re not going to sleep until you do. Look, it’s only a few hours to Severin. Do it. What did he say was out there? A spook?”

“He didn’t exactly say. ‘Something’s loose.’”

“Well, that could be pretty much anything.”

“I think he was suggesting I’d know it when I saw it.”

“Give it a chance. When nothing happens you can tell him you tried.”

He dropped anchor and they changed into their wet suits. Kim folded her clothes carefully on the cabin bunk, then removed her silver earrings and laid them on top of her blouse. They were dolphins, given to her years ago by an otherwise forgettable amour. Then they sat down on the deck and resumed the conversation while they pulled on flippers and adjusted thermostats. Kim knew that the dive could not be made until the Tolliver issue was settled.

“You think I owe him that,” she said.

“I think you owe it to yourself.” He put his mask on, adjusted it, attached the converter, and took a deep breath. “I’ll go with you, if you want.”

“You really would?”

“I’m on an off-rotation for a couple of weeks. Plenty of time available if you’d like to do it.”

Actually, she did. “Okay,” she said. “I’m supposed to talk to the Germane Society the day after tomorrow. Wednesday. And I’ve got a fund-raiser at Sky Harbor next Saturday.”

“What’s next Saturday?”

“The
Star Queen
christening. Maybe this weekend would be a good time.”

“I don’t think I want to ask you what the Germane Society is.”

“They are
relevant
.”

Solly grinned. “Is it a luncheon?”

“Yes.”

“Why wait till the weekend? Eagle Point’s a tourist spot. Cheaper to hit it now. Why don’t we leave Wednesday afternoon? After the Relevant Society—?”

“—Germane—”

“Whatever.”

“You sound terribly interested all of a sudden.”

“A night in the Severin Valley with a beautiful woman? Why wouldn’t I be interested?”

Her relationship with Solly was purely platonic. He’d been married when they first met, so they became friends before they could have become lovers. She’d liked him from the first. When Solly became eligible after he and his wife had failed to renew the marriage, she had considered signaling a romantic interest. But he’d seemed reluctant. Best way he knew of, he said, to put a rift between them. She’d wondered whether there was a secret agenda somewhere, perhaps another woman. Or whether he meant what he said. Eventually the arrangement came to seem quite natural.

“I used the VR this morning,” she said, “after I got off the circuit with Sheyel.” She pulled the converter on over her shoulders and connected it. “I spent an hour looking at the Severin woods. They’re just woods.”

“It’s not quite the same as
being
there,” said Solly.

A wave passed under the boat and set it rocking. He dipped his mask in the water and put it on. “What about Kane? What happened to him?”

“He retired after the
Hunter
incident. Went into seclusion, I guess. I haven’t done much research on him yet.”

“Aha.”

“What
aha
? What are you trying to say?”

“Research? So we
are
interested in this, are we?”

She rolled her eyes. “Just curiosity. He stayed in Severin Village until they evacuated. When they took down the dam. He moved to Terminal City after that, and then he headed out. Eventually landed on Earth. Canada. Lived on his retirement income, I guess.”

“Is he still alive?”

“He died a few years ago trying to rescue some kids. In a forest fire.”

Solly pulled on his flippers. “And he always told the same story?”

“The conspiracy freaks were constantly after him. That appears to be the reason he left Greenway. But yes: He maintained that nothing unusual happened on the
Hunter
mission. They went out. They had an engine problem. They came back. Didn’t know what happened to the women. Thought Tripley died in the blast.”

“Mount Hope.”

“Yes.”

He lowered himself into the water, and his voice came in over her ’phones. “There
is
someone you might try talking to.”

She watched him start down, and then followed him in. “Who’s that?”

“Benton Tripley. Kile’s son. His office is at Sky Harbor. When you go there next weekend, why don’t you stop by and see him? He might be able to tell you something.”

“I don’t know.” She slipped beneath the surface and filled her lungs several times to assure herself the converter was working properly. The air was sweet and cool. When she was satisfied, she started down. “I think I’ll settle for just looking at the woods and let it go at that.”

Bars of sunlight faded quickly. A long rainbow-colored fish darted past. The oceans of Greenway had filled rapidly with lobsters and tarpon and whales and algae and seaweed.

She dropped through alternating warm and cold currents. Solly, now trailing behind her, switched on his wristlamp.

The
Caledonian
had been running among the islands on its way out to the banks with nineteen passengers and a three-person crew when a freak storm blew up. It became a legendary event because there’d been some famous people on board, and because there’d been only two survivors. One had been the unfortunate captain, later held negligent by a board of inquiry, charging failure to train his crew, poor ship handling, failure to develop emergency procedures. His situation was exacerbated by the suspicion that on the night of the accident he’d been frolicking in his quarters with a married passenger.

The ship’s wheel was on display at the Marine Museum in Seabright. Other divers had gone over the wreck and taken whatever they could. Even Kim, who was usually inclined to respect such things, had removed a latch from a cabin door. The latch was now inside a block of crystal, which she kept hidden in her bedroom because visitors had made a point of showing their disapproval. Moves were currently afoot to declare the area a seapark, install monitoring equipment, and thereby protect it from future looters. Kim, with the quiet hypocrisy that seems wired into the human soul, favored the measure. She soothed her conscience by promising herself she’d donate the latch to the museum. When the time came.

She left her own lamp off, savoring the dark and the solitude and the moving water. The bottom came into view. A school of fish, drawn by Solly’s light, hurried past.

Ahead she could make out the wreck. It lay on its starboard side in the mud, half buried. Its rudder was gone, the spars were gone, planking was gone. Anything that could be carried off had been taken. Still it retained a kind of pathetic dignity.

The seabottoms of Greenway, unlike those of Earth, were
not littered with the wrecks of thousands of years of seafaring and warmaking. It was in fact possible to count the number of sinkings along the eastern coast, during five centuries, on two hands. Only one, the
Caledonian
, had been a ship in the true sense of the word. The others had all been skimmers. The loss of a vessel was so rare an event that anything that went down became immediately a subject of folklore.

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