Zach Hughes: Deep Freeze

Age had touched her gently, with silver in her hair, and by accentuating the spacer's lines at the corners of her eyes.

"Admiral," David said, taking Julie's outstretched hand, "believe me when I say this is an unexpected but very real pleasure."

Julie's smile was genuine. "You're not exactly unknown around X&A, Mr. Webster."

David glanced quickly at Josh, who shrugged.

"We keep track of certain cargoes, Mr. Webster," Julie said. "Precious stones among them. In that field you stand out."

Julie turned to take Ruth's hand as Josh completed the introductions.

There was more coffee. Julie was more than willing to talk briefly about Rimfire's circumnavigation of the galaxy. Then she questioned Ruth about her profession, expressed the opinion that the work Ruth was doing was of vital importance, looked at her watch.

"Admiral, you've been more than hospitable," Josh said, taking the cue.

"We won't take up any more of your time, but there is one thing."

Julie was all Service again. "Yes, Commander?"

"David and Ruth are going to find my—our mother and father. Perhaps you recall that their ship has not been in contact—"

"Yes, I'm familiar with the case, Commander." Julie turned to David. "I envy you, going into deep space in a Starliner."

"I would like your authorization, Admiral," Josh said, "to have a Seeker installed on David's ship."

Julie touched her cheek with slim, well manicured fingers. "Yes, all right," she said.

Josh sighed, rose. "Thank you very much, Admiral."

"I shall remember meeting you with great pride," Ruth said.

"And I," said David.

"My pleasure," Julie answered.

In the flux car David took his eyes off the walls flashing past to look at Josh. "What was all that? What's a Seeker?"

"Ever look inside a ship's computer?"

"Yes, of course."

"See a little black box somewhere down at the heart of it?"

"The X&A bug," David said.

"A prejudiced term," Josh said.

"Yes, I know," David said.

"I don't," Ruth said.

"The bug," David said, "is required equipment for every vessel going into space. It monitors the computer, records every order, every move, every transaction, and, through the computer, keeps a record of generator operation, life-support systems, everything that goes on in a ship in space.

Some people don't like it, say that it invades privacy."

"But accidents do happen," Josh said. "When they do, there's a complete record of what preceded almost any incident short of a ship falling into a sun. The bug is also motivation to keep spacers on the straight and narrow. There are some strict laws governing space travel, laws that are easy to break when a ship is light-years from nowhere alone in space. So the bug keeps an eye out for infractions, such as changing computer logs, blinking inside a planet's gravity well, things like that.

Information recorded in the bug's uni-chamber can be and has been used as valid evidence in court. In short, it's a monitor of everything that goes on from the time a ship lifts off to the time it shuts down power to the computer, and when you shut down power to the computer you'd better be hard and safe on a pad."

"I've read about it," Ruth said.

"The bug does one other thing that isn't so well known," Josh said. "It sends out low frequency radio waves that can be detected by the gadget the admiral authorized for your ship, David. The Seeker. The transmitter is activated by any unusual event such as accident or loss of power."

"I can see that it would be useful, but quite limited. For example, if Dad's ship had lost power, say, six months ago, the signal would have traveled only half a light-year. We'd have to be damned close in order to be able to pick it up."

"True," Josh said. "It'll be up to you to get within range. If—and I don't accept the premise that something has happened to Dad's ship."

"If there hasn't been a problem, the bug doesn't transmit?" Ruth asked.

Josh nodded. "So you're probably going out there for nothing. You're going to have to guess at the route Dad took once he left the Rimfire's beacons. The odds are millions to one that he'll come back to the blink beacons by a different route and you'll miss him entirely."

"It's a case of no news is good news, then," Ruth said. "If we don't hear a signal from the bug on Old Folks, we can assume that they're out there joyriding, that they're all right, happy as kids at dessert time."

In a matter of hours the Seeker was installed in the Fran Webster's communications bank. The influence of a certain Space Service commander, exerted through his executive assistant, got the Starliner lift-off clearance ahead of others who had been waiting longer. The Zede-built liner attracted a lot of attention as she rose slowly and smoothly on flux, went into her assigned orbit, and then disappeared as David punched in the first blink.

Xanthos, the administration planet, was located near the center of the volume of space occupied by the worlds that composed the United Planets Confederation. Although not nearly as congested as the zones inward toward the core, past the Dead Worlds, Xanthosian space offered no long blinks until a ship had traveled several parsecs toward the rim. Time became an element in space travel when the blink generator was depleted of power and had to rest while gathering energy from the nearest star.

During those charging periods Ruth familiarized herself with the Fran Webster and was duly impressed by the luxurious fittings. She swam in the small pool in the gym, although she had to rationalize the fact that she was swimming in the ship's main supply of water. It seemed rather odd to think of drinking one's bathwater, and, to one not accustomed to shipboard life, even odder to realize that the water in which she swam, the water she splashed into her face each morning, the water she drank, had been recycled only God knew how many times.

She spent considerable time with her library monitor in her cabin, sampling the ship's inexhaustible supply of books and films. By giving the monitor an order she could bring up every film in which her sister Shebahad appeared. She discovered that David had programmed the computer to isolate Sheba's parts, which was helpful in the early films where Sheba's appearances were mere bits. It was fun to watch her little sister as she developed her acting skills. Sheba had always been strikingly beautiful with her long blonde hair, her emerald eyes, her perfect little nose, but it was glaringly evident that she had not always been a good actress.

There were long, comfortable hours of talk between brother and sister, too. Good wine. Good food. Good music. First, they did the remember-when thing, reliving their childhood, laughing about tricks they had played on Josh or Sarah decades before. It had always been Ruth and David allied against Josh and Sarah, with Sheba standing aside in neutral territory, immune to the sibling rivalry because of her beauty and her gentle, loving nature. No one played tricks on Sheba. Everyone protected Sheba.

"A queen from the first," David said, chuckling fondly.

"The way that little girl could wrap people around her finger she should have become a politician," Ruth said with fondness.

Jump. Jump. Jump. Rest. Recharge.

David gave Ruth basic lessons in ship's operation and navigation. When she was on watch, Ruth's duty was mainly a matter of monitoring the instruments and the computer.

"If you can tell when something is going wrong, that's all you need to know," he told her. "Then you call me."

Ruth's curiosity wasn't satisfied with that, of course. She spent time studying the manuals and impressed David anew with her ability to collect and collate information.

It was a lovely trip. They hadn't spent time together in many years.