Ben Bova - Flight of Exiles

Dan spotted an empty desk, slid into its chair, and touched the phone button. “Dan Christopher here,” he said.

The little desktop viewscreen glowed briefly, then Dr Hsai’s features took shape. The psychotech smiled a polite oriental smile.

“Kind of you to answer my call so quickly,” Dr. Hsai said softly. “I know you must be very busy.”

Dan smiled back. “You’re a busy man, too. What can I do for you?”

Looking slightly more serious, the psychotech replied, “I am concerned that you haven’t kept in touch with us, Mr. Christopher. We have set up three appointments for your examination, and you haven’t shown up for any of them.”

Dan shrugged. “As you said, I’m very busy.”

“Yes, of course. But your health is of primary importance. You cannot perform your exacting tasks if you are in poor health.”

“I feel fine.”

Dr Hsai closed his eyes when he nodded. “Perhaps so. But your condition may not reflect itself in physical symptoms that are obvious to you. You were discharged from the infirmary with the understanding that you would return for periodic examinations.”

Dan could feel the heat rising within him. “Now listen. I am busy. And all you want to do is ask me more stupid questions and probe my mind. I don’t have to allow that. I’m performing my job and I feel fine. There’s no way you can force me to submit to your brain-tinkering!”

“Mr. Christopher!” Dr Hsai looked shocked.

“Let me remind you of something, Doctor,” Dan went on “We’re right now decelerating toward Alpha Centauri. Our reactors are feeding the ship’s main engines on a very, very carefully programmed schedule. This ship can’t take more than a tiny thrust loading—we’re simply not built to stand high thrust, it’d tear us apart.”

“Everyone knows this.”

“Do they? This is a very delicate part of the flight A slight miscalculation or a tiny flaw in the reactors could rip open the ship and kill everybody. I’d suggest that you stop bothering me and let me concentrate on my job. Save your brain-picking for after we’re safely in orbit and the rocket engines are shut down.”

“I am only…”

Dan could sense that the others in the control room had turned to stare at him. But he concentrated on the phone screen. “I don’t care what you are only,” he snapped “And I don’t care who’s trying to find reason to slap me back in the infirmary even if it’s the Chairman himself. I’m going to stay on this job and get it done right. Understand?”

Dr Hsai nodded, his smile gone. “I am sorry to have interrupted your very important work,” he said.

The psychotech gently touched his phone’s switch, and Dan Christopher’s image faded from the screen. Dr Hsai sat in his desk chair for a long moment, eyes closed, mouth pursed meditatively.

It was late at night. Dr. Loring padded slowly up the long, winding metal stairs toward the observatory section in the ship’s hub. The tubes that connected the lowermost rings of the huge ship had power ladders, and a man could ride comfortably at the touch of a button. Most people climbed the stairs anyway, because of the shortage of electricity while the main generator was dow.n But Dr Loring felt it was his privilege to ride the power ladders.

Up here, though, above the fourth level, it was all muscle work. No power ladders, just endless winding metal steps. Not easy for a heavy old man. Even though the gravity fell off rapidly at these higher levels, Loring sweated and muttered to himself as he climbed. It was dark in the tunnels. The regular lights had been shut off, and only the widely spaced dim little emergency lights broke the darkness.

He stopped at the seventh level to catch his breath. Halfway up the next tube, he knew, he could just about float with hardly touching the steps at all. Time for a rest.

The hatch just to his left opened onto the Propulsion and Power offices, he knew. The hatch to his right led to the reactors. Loring wanted no part of them. With an effort he began climbing the next set of steps, leaving level seven below him.

“Insomnia,” he muttered to himself. “The curse of an old man. Bumbling about in the dark, ruining my heart and my stomach, when I ought to be sound asleep in my own bed.”

The weightlessness was getting to him now. No matter how many times he came to the observatory, the first few minutes of nearly O g always turned his stomach over. It felt like falling, endlessly falling. Something primitive inside his brain wanted to scream, and his stomach definitely wanted something more solid to work with.

If only it wasn’t so dark, Loring thought. He held tightly to the stair railing as his feet floated free of the steps. At least he could keep some sense of up and down, that would help. Like a swimmer guiding himself along a rope, he pulled himself along the railing until his balding head bumped gently on a hatch.

Dr Loring swore to himself softly, opened the hatch manually—the automatic controls were shut down—and floated through into the observatory.

For a terrified moment he thought he was outside in space itself.

The observatory was almost entirely plastiglass, a big dome of transparent plastic that made it look as if there was absolutely nothing between him and the stars. In an instant his fright passed, and then he smiled and floated like a child on a cloud, turning slowly around in midair to see his oldest friends.

Alpha Centauri, and way out there, I see you. Proxima. The Cross and Achernar. He turned again. How dim and far away you are, my Sun. And Cassiopeia, and bright Polaris. Yes, still there. Eternally, eh? Eternally. Or close enough to it.

Gradually, he became aware of dark shapes around him, blotting out parts of the sky. He knew what they were. Telescopes, recording equipment, video screens and cameras, computer terminals. The tools of the astronomer’s trade.

He “swam” down to the desk that was shoehorned into the midst of all the equipment, and touched a button on its surface. The viewscreen on the desktop lit up, showing an intensified view of what the main telescope was looking at the two main stars of the Alpha Centauri system, and between them, two specks of light that were planets.

Dr. Loring swiveled his chair around and activated the computer terminal. Its smaller screen stayed dark, but the READY light beside it glowed green.

Checking the time on his wristwatch, Dr Loring stated the date, his name, and the code words for the computer memory section that his work was being filed under. Then…

“Re-position the main telescope for observation of Epsilon Indi.”

The hum of electrical motors, and the bulky shape of the main telescope began to swing across the background of stars over the old man’s head. Loring watched the viewscreen, and saw a bright orange star center itself in the picture.

“Analysis of last week’s observations have shown,” he recited for the computer’s memory bank, “that both Epsilon Eridani and Epsilon Indi have planetary companions. Both stars are K-sequence, brighter and hotter than the red dwarfs observed earlier. The mass of Epsilon Eridani’s companion is about one-hundredth of Jupiter’s or roughly three times Earth’s. This is a preliminary figure, and may apply to the total masses of several planets, although only one has been observed so far. The purpose of tonight’s observation is to gain mass data on the companion or companions of Epsilon Indi. Spectroscopic measurements can be…”

He stopped. There was something moving among the shadows. The only light in the huge sepulcher-like observatory came from the dimly glowing viewscreen and the stars themselves But something had definitely moved out near the main telescope.