David Brin - The Heart of the Comet

Hmm. Thank heavens she was too busy right now, or she might be tempted to record that bit of doggerel. Still, perhaps something could be done with it.

SHALL I STORE OR ERASE IT, THEN, VIRGINIA?

She started, then subvocalised quickly, JonVon, I thought you’d signed off. Those were private musings.

A brief pause told of vigorous cross-correlation checks.

PRIVATE MUSINGS—REFLECTIONS—FANTASIES…

Enough! And JonVon was instantly quiet.

Irritated, Virginia took hold of her thoughts and concentrated on maneuvering the mech back toward the work site. The spider’s legs swung, one at a time. Surface vibrations translated into sounds so she “heard” the mech’s feet crunch across the dark powder.

During the early work, so much vapor had been churned out here that some of the gases actually condensed again, instead of escaping into space. Sparkling snows had flash-frozen around the heat-and-gas-release ducts leading up from Central. Broad, rainbow-colored flows spilled over the feet of the Shaft 2 portal.

The airlock itself was more than just a drab, functional construct. Far from that, Virginia saw it as a work of art. Structural braces had been press-formed in high, faery arches. The footing anchors looked like gnarled gargoyles’ fists, gripping the ancient stuff of Halley.

Only a few crucial parts were made of precious refined metal, salvaged from the robot freighters. The supports and body of the building were cleverly sculpted from refrozen, crystalline, water ice.

It was one reason why Virginia liked working out on Quadrant 2, where Jim Vidor had been in charge of the construction crew. The man was an artist.

“We build the best when we are forced to improvise,” Virginia said softly to herself.

A carrier wave cut in, followed quickly by a woman’s voice.

—What was that, Virginia ? Did you say something?—

Virginia ’s head turned a little too quickly, causing the mech to slew awkwardly as it struggled to follow. At last a slim, spacesuited figure came into Virginia ’s field of view, standing over a row of dark shapes tethered to the ice.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Lani. I was just admiring what Jim and his guys did in melt-carving this airlock.”

Lani Nguyen’s spacesuit had been trimmed of its heavy armor, now that summer had passed and dust pebbles were no longer being blasted outward by subliming gas. A white cloth tabard covered the suit’s chest area, depicting the head of a smiling unicorn—a symbol that would identify Lani to workers too far away to make out her face. Right now the sharp sun reflected in her opaqued visor, anyway, hiding her soft, half-Asian features.

—Yes, pretty. But not entirely safe, in my opinion. Next shift, Jeffers is supposed to break out the factory gear and start processing some of that iron and carbon stacked out here. I’ll sleep a lot quieter in my slot knowing there’s a real stress-filament hatch up here, capping the air in.—

Virginia sighed softly. “Yes, I suppose so. Still, I hope they leave some of these crystal structures in place. It would be a shame if the only marks we left were scars on every inch of this little world.”

She heard Lani sniff but politely withhold further comment.

Virginia knew that, to a spacer, talk of “preserving nature” was nothing more than Luddism. It was all very well to try to save what was left of poor, depleted Earth, but to apply such ideas to the vast resources out here struck spacers as thickheaded.

Dumb or not, though, a majority of Earthlings felt that way. And Virginia was not sure, quite yet, if she disagreed.

She walked her mech back over to the stacked equipment and helped the Amerasian girl unload a new crate of fibercloth tunnel liner. Carl Osborn was due up here in a little while to work with Lani on a new link from Shaft 2 to Shaft 1. Lani had asked Virginia to come up—in proxy, of course—to help whip a balky autonomous mechanical into shape for the upcoming operation.

This mech is working just fine , Virginia thought. The model’s certainly smart enough to have done Lani’s bidding without my direct control. I wonder what her real reason was for asking me up here.

Together they pushed the crate toward the gaping airlock doors, providing fingertip support for the bulky cargo against Halley Core’s faint tug. It was then that Lani spoke again, in a voice of labored casualness.

—As long as you’re up here, Virginia, I want to thank you for helping arrange to put me on First Watch.—

Virginia started, and nearly dropped her end of the crate as they lowered it to the floor of the airlock.

“Uh, you’re welcome, Lani. I—I don’t really think I made much difference, though.”

That was certainly the truth. Three weeks ago, while a hundred temporarily awakened men and women scrambled about like ants preparing for the long winter, Lani had hinted something to Virginia about influencing shift scheduling. She wanted to remain awake on the first year-and-a-half detail, after nearly everyone else was cooled down.

A number of crew members seemed to share this belief, that Virginia had some sort of a secret back door into the mission mainframe computer aboard the Edmund . Some had made even more blatant requests. She had been politely, noncommittal to them all. People took that sort of answer better than an outright refusal.

To be honest, in all the running around, Virginia had forgotten about Lani’s shy entreaty until now.

They had to push down on the crate to set it against the other equipment, Halley’s pull was so molasses slow.

—I’m really grateful. I just couldn’t go down there to sleep. to pass so much time… with my mind in such a spin. There are things… things I have to work out.—

Although she had half-turned away as she spoke, Lani’s face was now visible under her helmet visor. The young woman could easily have been Hawaiian, with her faintly Eurasian features and healthy, taut skin. Right now, though, Spacer Second Class Nguyen seemed troubled, her mouth working as she sought words to express herself.

Well, it’s only to be expected, Virginia thought. They told us back on Earth that we would all have to take turns being each other’s therapists, ministers, listeners. And then they loaded the expedition down with exiles, cripples, and refugees.

Like me. She sighed. Be honest with yourself, Ginnie, are you any less confused than this poor girl?

She waited, and at last Lani spoke again.

—Virginia, I was wondering. Um, what do you think of the Birth and Childhood Laws?—

Virginia was glad that a mech couldn’t show her sudden surprise.

“Well, uh, they don’t seem all that fair… though I guess there are arguments on both sides. I don’t suppose you like them much, Lani. After all, you’re a…”

—A spacer. Yes. —Lani nodded. —My parents were California Techno-Liberals. They told me stories, ever since I was a little baby, about how mankind’s future was out in space. How someday humanity would move out here and get rich and happy and generous again. Only the dreary stay-at-home types would live on Earth.—

Virginia shifted uncomfortably. The mech responded with the same pelvis cant.

“Your parents were right, Lani. Space is saving humanity. Even reactionaries and Arcists know that. Why do you think Hawaii invested so heavily in this expedition? Those dreams will come true, someday.

“I guess it’s just that the Hell Century is still fresh in everyone’s memory. That’s why so many countries are so suspicious. Space has to serve Earth first, until the recovery is complete. Don’t worry, though. I’m sure you’ll live to see your Third Plateau.”