Starhawk (12 page)

It was during the conversation with Harmon that her link activated. She excused herself, grateful to get clear. The call was from Kosmik. “Hello,” she said.

“Priscilla, this is Howard. I wanted to let you know that we need you back on the Wheel. We have a problem.”

“I'll try to get a shuttle out tomorrow.”

“We've already taken care of it. You'll be on the morning flight out of Philadelphia. And by the way, I know this isn't the way we planned things, but we'll reimburse you for your trouble.”

When she heard, Mom was upset. “Is this the way it's going to be?”

“I don't think so. They just need somebody on short notice.”

“Where will you be going?”

“I didn't think to ask.”

 * * * 

SO THE WELCOME-HOME
party became a farewell party. They sang and danced and told jokes and reminisced about the old days. About how Grandpop used to say he didn't mind flying as long as he could drag one foot on the ground. And Cousin Aggie whose behavior suggested she'd come from Mars. They asked Priscilla what it felt like to slip into that other kind of world, Barber space. And where did they get that name from anyhow? Was it because somebody had had a close shave in there once?

Jackie Tensler, a friend since the seventh grade, asked whether there were “any available guys on the Wheel?” And another cousin wanted to know if Priscilla could arrange to take her along on one of the missions.

Uncle Phil wondered how long it would take to get to Alpha Centauri in his car. And Priscilla's seven-year-old niece Teri told her she was going to pilot starships when she grew up. “Just like you, Aunt Priscilla.” Everybody told Priscilla how it was a pity her father hadn't lived to see this day.

She was dancing with Arlen Hoxley when the link activated again. She liked Arlen. Always had. He claimed to have fallen in love with her when they were both in kindergarten. They'd done occasional dates through the years, but he'd never really made a play for her. And she had never really invited his attention. Born to be friends, she thought. Nothing more. But it was enough.

Ordinarily, she'd have shut the link down during a social occasion, but she'd given it instructions on that night to block everything except calls from Kosmik and Jake. And Wally, just in case.

It was Wally.
“Priscilla,”
he said.
“About tomorrow evening—”

She thought he'd watched the press take her on and was going to back off. “Yes, Wally?”

“We talked about dinner. But I can get tickets for
Family Affair
at the Corel tomorrow night. How about we eat early and go to the show? Would that be okay?”

The Corel was live theater. “Wish I could,” she said. “But they've called me back to work.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes, Wally. I just got the word. Sorry.”

“Okay, I'm sorry, too.”

“I wish we could have gotten the evening together.”

“Priscilla, you are the loveliest woman in Princeton. But I suspect you know that.”

Wally
did
know how to get through to her.

 * * * 

AT AROUND MIDNIGHT,
the party got suddenly quiet. People were whispering and turning to look at her. “What?” she said. “What's going on?”

Uncle Phil was staring at his link. “He's dead!” he said.

“Who's dead?”

“Carlson.”

Mom looked at him and shook her head. Please don't bring that up in here.

“No,” said Priscilla. “Let's hear what it's about.”

“George,” said Mom, “turn on the HV.
Newsworld
.”

Marilyn Jakovik, the anchor, materialized in the middle of the room. “—Early this evening,” she was saying. “He was living in an apartment under a false name. He is, of course, the man authorities were looking for in connection with the interstellar-bombing incident last week that nearly killed a ship full of high-school girls from the Middle East. The cause of death has not yet been released. But Carlson posted a statement earlier today on the Internet. The statement revealed where he was, his remorse over the incident, and his intention to take his own life.

“We are going to run the statement as soon as we come back from commercial. In the meantime, we want to warn you that it may be painful to watch and that parents may wish to exercise discretion with children.” Despite the nature of the tragedy, Marilyn managed a smile.

“I have no sympathy for him,” said Priscilla. She wasn't sure she meant it. “I'm glad he's gone.”

Mom nodded.

“Maybe,” said Uncle Phil, “you should wait to see what he has to say.”

“I can't imagine anything that could possibly justify what he did.”

Her mother paused the commercial, which was pushing a law firm. “Did you not want to watch it?”

“No. I'm just glad it's over.”

 * * * 

IN THE END,
she changed her mind, or more likely realized she had not meant what she'd said, and they watched.

“There is no rationale for what I've done,” said Carlson. He had a deer-in-the-headlights look. “I'm responsible for the death of my friend Joshua Miller. And, because I couldn't keep track of schedule changes, I endangered the lives of ten innocent students and their teacher. And two more people in the
Copperhead
. Both also friends.” He was wearing a black pullover shirt. “I've no excuse, and I'm not able to live with what I've done. So I'm going to end it tonight. But before I do that, there's something everyone needs to know.

“I'm sure everybody listening to this is aware of the process called terraforming. It's a process that tries to convert the environment of a world to make it more friendly for human colonization. That sounds good. They're experimenting with it on Selika. Unfortunately, in changing the atmosphere, we are killing off most, and probably
all
, of the life-forms.”

His image was replaced by pictures of birds and lizards and whalelike creatures. And animals that might almost have been Scottish terriers and cats and monkeys and other creatures that resembled nothing Priscilla had seen before except that they all had eyes, and they all somehow looked wistful. There were even some plants, shrubbery that
moved
as she watched. She was reminded of the occasional pleas that asked viewers to assist animals currently maintained in shelters or discarded by their owners.

“These are all being killed off, in
your
name, by large international corporations, led by Kosmik, Inc., and aided and abetted by the World Space Authority. If we allow this process to continue, our grandchildren will look back at us and hold us in contempt for standing around and permitting it to happen. Even the people who want to move out to Selika, to colonize it, will find it sterile and repulsive. It won't be the
Eden
they're being promised.

“There's no justification for what I've done. I'm aware of that, and I've had to live with it. But I saw no other way to draw attention to this problem than by doing
something
that would get public notice. Petitions go nowhere. Postings on the Internet accomplish nothing. Appeals to the people who run Kosmik have been turned aside. So I took a chance. It went terribly wrong, and Joshua Miller paid with his life. I will now pay with mine. But I beg you, those of you with any sense of decency, make your voices heard. Stop the terraforming. Whatever it takes, get it stopped.”

He was replaced by Marilyn Jakovik, who switched to news of a murder trial. Mom turned it off. “What do you think?” she asked.

Priscilla shook her head. “Incredible,” she said.

Her mother's eyes had fastened on her. “Who did you say you're working for now?”

 * * * 

NEWSDESK

VICE PRESIDENT: WE NEED INTERSTELLAR FLIGHT

“Confining Ourselves to This Planet Endangers the Species.”

KORMANOV ARGUES FOR EXTENDED INTERSTELLAR EXPLORATION

“To Do Any Less Is to Forget Who We Are.”

MAGLEVS KILLING DEER

Wildlife Protection Agency Appeals to Congress

Magnetics May Be Reducing Reproduction

MANITOBA ENGLISH TEACHER FIGHTS OFF BEAR

Distracts Animal from Children; Wounds Not Life-Threatening

TORNADOES HIT DAKOTAS

No Fatalities, Several Towns Wrecked

MALKAVIA INSERTING IMPLANTS INTO DISSIDENTS

AVERAGE LIFE SPAN IN NAU TOPS 150

Finland Leads the Way at 161

CANCER RESURGENCE IN EAST ASIA

Doctors Baffled

GOLD PARTY DEBATE TONIGHT

LIFE GUARD SOCIETY: TERRAFORMING KILLS EVERYTHING

Martin Pleads for Total Ban

Decries Use of Violence

Bomb on
Gremlin
“Inexcusable”

SOCIAL SKILLS HIT NEW BOTTOM

Virtual Reality Comes with a Price

Parents Urged to Take Control

STAR PILOT BOMBER COMMITS SUICIDE

Posts Attack on Terraforming

WHEN SHE CHECKED
into the Starlight, a message from Broderick was waiting.
“Priscilla,”
it said,
“you are assigned to the
Venture
. Depart tomorrow 0900 for Amity Station. You'll be carrying supplies. No passengers. Pick up Dr. Monika Wolf at the station and bring her home with you. You have time to complete the flight and get back for your graduation ceremony. But do a quick turnaround. Congratulations again. Call me if you need anything.”

Amity was the Selika station, located in the 107 Piscium system, just over twenty-four light-years out. Selika, of course, was the world that was igniting so much controversy. The hope was that it would be ready for human colonists in another six to eight years.

Priscilla called Ops. “What will I be hauling?” she asked.

One of the comm officers was on the other end.
“Basic supplies, Priscilla,”
he said.
“Food and water. Some hardware. And”
—he paused—
“hold on a second. It says here superalgae. It's contained in specially modified kelp. Whatever all that means.”

“Okay,” she said. “Thanks.”

She went online and did a search. The problem on Selika was that the atmospheric oxygen level was only about 16 percent. Earth-based life likes it at 21 percent. So it had become necessary to increase the content. They were doing it by placing the kelp in the oceans. The superalgae grew fast and began producing oxygen immediately. The kelp has large broad leaves that serve as bladders, which protect the superalgae. It also has leaves that do photosynthesis and thereby support the metabolism.

Well, okay. She'd take their word that it actually worked.

She called Broderick. “How's the security on the
Venture
? Are we sure there won't be a bomb on board?”

“Yes, Priscilla.”
He let her see that he was being patient with her.
“No need to worry. We've put very good security in place. We are certainly not going to permit a second incident. And we'll go over the ship again before you leave.”
He smiled. Nothing to worry about.

 * * * 

SHE WASN'T ESPECIALLY
sleepy, so she went down to look at the
Venture
. A security station had been set up. They wouldn't even let
her
on board without a second call to the Kosmik watch officer.

The ship had been connected to feeder lines, and the kelp-algae mix was being pumped into storage tanks belowdecks.

She stood at the dock for several minutes, admiring the vehicle, its smooth silver hull, the pair of slotted wings that would allow her to maneuver in an atmosphere if necessary, the sleek bridge wraparound, the arrow-shaped prow. And, most of all, the twin engines, mounted on either side of the hull. Dream come true.

She went inside and checked out the passenger cabin. It was about the same size as the one on the
Copperhead
, but it was more luxurious, with leather chairs and walnut bulkheads. Not bad. It had four individual cabins, a washroom, and a workout area.

And, finally, she went onto the bridge. She'd been saving it for last. Or pretending it wasn't all that big a deal. She wasn't sure which. Lights were moving out in the dome. A work crew. The bridge was dark save for a single lamp on the control panel. She sat down in the pilot's seat.

“Lily,” she said, addressing the AI, “hello.” The ship remained silent. “You're not activated yet, are you?”

She listened to the low hum of the life-support system.

Top of the world.

 * * * 

WHEN SHE ARRIVED
next morning, they were loading food and equipment. She went inside, picked a sleeping cabin, and stored her bags. She came back out and found Broderick entering through the air lock as the last of the techs left. Two security guards were with him, carrying what she presumed were bomb detectors. “All right, gentlemen,” he said, “it's all yours.”

One of the guards descended into the cargo area, the other went aft. “All set, Priscilla?” Broderick asked, lowering himself into a seat.

“I will be in a few minutes,” she said.

“Good. We're going to be working together, so you might as well call me Howard.”

“All right, Howard.”

“And you can relax. I don't bite.”

“I'm aware of that.” His manner was relentlessly formal. Not an easy guy to take on a first-name basis. She was glad he wasn't coming along.

“You know how to get to Selika?”

“Yes, Howard.” She made no effort to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

“I'm just kidding.”

“I know.”

“Okay. You should get back here several days before the ceremony. But don't push it, okay? I suggest you don't stay out there to visit the way some of our people do.”

“Okay.”

“And don't forget you'll be bringing Dr. Wolf back with you.”

“Sure. Is she okay?”

“She's fine. Just wants to come home.”

“Anything else?”

“That's about it. And, Priscilla, I appreciate your willingness to take this on at short notice. I know we interrupted your plans. But I won't forget.” He got to his feet. “Enjoy your trip. And I'll see you when you get back.”

They shook hands. His grip was firm and somehow encouraging. A smile flickered across those thick lips. Then he turned and left.

Fifteen minutes later, the two security guys told her the ship was clean. Then they, too, departed. She closed the air lock, did a quick inventory, and went onto the bridge.

Time to get started. She put on her cap, squared her shoulders, grinned at her own exaggerated sense of accomplishment, and sat down in the captain's chair. “Ready to go, Lily?”

“Yes, indeed, Captain. At your pleasure.”

“Very well.” Priscilla leaned over the mike. “Ops,” she said, “this is the
Venture
.” She smiled. “Ready to move.”

A male voice responded:
“Very good,
Venture
. There's nothing in the neighborhood. We're opening the launch doors now. Depart at leisure.”

“Roger that.”

She sat quietly for a few moments. Unlike the
Copperhead
,
Venture
did not have shielded ports. She could actually see outside. The docking area, illuminated by sunlight, was big, large enough to accommodate eight vehicles.

My first solo
. “Ready to go, Lily?”

“Whenever you are, Priscilla.”

They were facing into the docking area, so she'd have to back out.

A couple of guys in chocolate-brown work suits, protected from the void by Flickinger fields, were outside moving boxes from one storage unit to another. They turned toward her to watch. She paused, enjoying the moment before giving her first order as a ship's captain: “Lily, start engines.”

She heard the low rumble as they came to life.

“Release the lines.”

Lights blinked on the control panel, and she felt a slight tremor as the magnetics shut down and the
Venture
began to drift away from the dock. “Lines released, Priscilla.”

She pulled her harness down over her shoulders. “Activate forward thrusters, Lily. Back us out.”

The dome's vast curved interior began to move past.

God, this felt so good. She was tempted to take the ship out herself, but standard protocol leaving the station was to turn everything over to the AI. So she did.

Somebody behind one of the observation ports waved. Priscilla would have liked to blink her lights, but that would have been unprofessional. Not that anyone would have taken offense, but
she
would have known. It was time to play the role.

Only one other ship was present: the
Baumbachner
, lying dark and inert on the far side of the port. She watched it pass out of view as they approached the launch doors. The
Venture
moved through into the void. Lily waited the requisite six minutes. Priscilla adjusted course toward the target star, 107 Piscium. Then she fired the engines and began to accelerate.

Forty-eight minutes later, with the Earth and Moon both dominating the sky behind her, the
Venture
jumped into transdimensional space.

 * * * 

IT WOULD BE
a long ride out to Selika. Eight days submerged, and another two or three days after arrival to get to the world itself. At least, this time, she had ports and a wraparound that weren't blocked by shielding. That was the good news. Unfortunately, there was nothing outside save the dark mist, which moved slowly past. The
Venture
could easily have been traveling at about two knots.

Located in the direction of the constellation Pisces, 107 Piscium was an orange-red main-sequence star. It was about six billion years old. The planetary system consisted of two gas giants and two rocky worlds, one of which was two billion kilometers from the sun, frozen beyond any possibility of life.

The other rocky world was Selika. It was in a Goldilocks situation, orbiting at a range that provided a temperate climate. The name derived from Roger Selika, the billionaire explorer, who'd designed and built his own ship and had been first to arrive in the system. He was rewarded by the discovery of what was then, other than Earth, only the fourth known living world.

The ship's library was loaded with material about the planet, pictures of vast forests and broad prairies, of rolling hills and jungles with vegetative growths that looked like nothing she'd ever seen. There were beautiful images of inordinately high mountains, broad oceans, and a snow-covered landscape, often illuminated by two or three of Selika's moons. And of a swirling chaotic surf, its confusion probably caused by the multiple satellites.

Priscilla was intrigued by the animated vegetation. It was somewhat disorienting when she first looked at it, vines and branches and sometimes even stems that stretched and weaved and literally reached out for her. And the animals: Some looked lethal: creatures that might have been crocodiles walking on two legs, others with large claws and feline grace bearing a resemblance to tigers except that they, too, were bipedal. And there was something that seemed to look out of a web of six tentacles with eyes that were eerily human. That was the sexapod. Somebody had shown a sense of humor. The sexapod was by far the most chilling creature Priscilla had ever seen. She couldn't help noticing that none of these monsters had shown up in Leon Carlson's appeal. After she'd turned off the sexapods, which had watched her as holograms from the other side of the passenger cabin, she found herself listening for strange sounds elsewhere in the ship.

Enough of that. She took to concentrating on friendlier animals. And there were plenty. Some looked as if they would indeed have made exquisite household pets. Furry, cuddly creatures that would nuzzle you, that would want to share a bed with you.

 * * * 

WHEN SHE'D BEEN
on the qualification flight with, first, Harry Everett, and then Jake, they'd watched a lot of HV. They'd enjoyed concerts, watched episodes from the new Sherlock Holmes series, and laughed at the antics of
Venable High
, which recorded the adventures of the students at a private girls' school who, definitely, were not to be taken lightly. “Here at Venable High,” the headmistress said at a graduation ceremony, “we expect that anyone who underestimates our young ladies will pay an appropriate price.”

Jake had set the shows up to portray Priscilla in the role of Maggie, one of the more aggressive students, and himself as Charles, the inept local police chief, who was terrified of the girls. In her favorite episode, a few gangsters make the mistake of kidnapping two boyfriends and holding them for ransom. The police are effectively helpless, but the thugs have no chance against the girls, led by an outraged Maggie.

When she'd finished her research, she decided to go back to
Venable High
. But she became quickly bored. It should have come as no surprise. Priscilla had never been much interested in watching HV or going to the theater alone. She needed company to make entertainment work. Though maybe she had an option. “Lily?”

“Yes, Priscilla?”

“Would you be interested in watching a show this afternoon?”

“Absolutely. What did you have in mind?”

She thought her best bet was to find something that would be intellectually challenging for Lily. “How about
The Broken Seal
?” she said. “It's a murder mystery.”

“That sounds good.”

She put it on. Grant Seagal was a homicide detective who always seemed overmatched by the killer. But the killer's tendency to underestimate the inspector inevitably proved his undoing. The audience always knew from the start who had committed the murder, and it never took Seagal long to figure it out. The suspense always lay in discovering how the detective would establish the truth.

The Broken Seal
was a good show. But watching it with an AI who was effectively invisible turned out to be not much different from watching it alone. Priscilla stayed with it, but she was glad when it ended.

 * * * 

IN THE MORNING,
she had breakfast in her pajamas and sat down on the bridge and gazed out at the mists. She played a couple of games of chess with Lily, and, when the eggs and toast had settled, got into her workout gear and did her daily physical routine. Then she went looking for a book and came up with a collection of plays by Jason Woodwell, the celebrated dramatist whose career had spanned the early years of the century. She decided to try
Square Pegs
, in which a pair of government workers decide to opt for honesty and efficiency and discover there's an innate danger in an effective bureaucracy. She could read it, or watch it, as she preferred. She didn't feel much like watching another show, so she stayed with the book version.