John Varley - Red Thunder

“I don’t know. I haven’t got a clue. We’ve been sorely tempted just to destroy all knowledge of how this new source produces power… but I don’t believe that will work. What one man has discovered, another will eventually discover.

“All I’m sure of is that it is way too much power for one man, or a small group of people, to possess. We have to figure out a way to bring this miracle of free power to humanity without destroying humanity in the process. I don’t want this responsibility, none of us here do. And that is why we are undertaking this journey, to become a voice that people will listen to.

“Right about now videotapes should be arriving by messenger at the New York Times , at the London Times and the BBC, at fifty media offices around the globe. These tapes will show some of the things that can be done with this technology-which we’ve been calling the ‘Squeezer,’ or ‘Squeeze’ drive. I want to urge the people of the world to study this information closely. It is vital that you do.

“Sorry to go on so long, Lou. We’re going to start the tour now. Feel free to ask questions if you want to. Over.”

Of course no newsman in history could ever have restrained himself with an invitation like that. Lou-while probably estimating the size of the raise he was going to get and already mentally polishing his Pulitzer Prize-had a thousand questions.

We ran the tour by simply switching from one camera to another as we moved from room to room. We also showed some outside shots. It took about an hour.

Midway through the tour, a phone rang. We all looked at each other. Kelly felt in her hip pocket and pulled out a cell phone. It rang again.

She retreated down the ladder to the lower stateroom deck. I followed and watched as she opened the phone.

“Hello?… I don’t believe it. Can’t I get away from you anywhere?”

[314] I mouthed Daddy? and she nodded. Then she laughed.

“ Turn this thing around? You’ve got to be out of your mind… No, you will not, Father, Travis didn’t shanghai me-in fact, I had to sneak aboard… Don’t mention it again, Father, or… Okay, you asked for it. Are you in your office? Good. Look in your bottom left desk drawer… Got it? That’s just part of what I know about you. Do you want to see any of that on the front page of the Herald?… . Oh? Then stop shouting about putting Travis in jail. What… what do I want you to say? How about, I’ll pray for you.’ How about just, ‘Be careful.’… No, I didn’t think so. Okay, Father, but I’m coming back, in spite of you.” She snapped the phone closed, then turned and went into the head. She opened the glory hole and dropped the phone in.

She smiled at me… but the smile broke apart and she started to cry. I took her in my arms and let her get it out. At that moment I stopped feeling sorry for myself that I didn’t have a living father. How much worse to have a father who was so hateful?

An hour later, when I used the head, I could still hear the phone ringing, way down at the bottom of the chute, among the crumpled plastic bags of urine.

OF COURSE NOcell phone could have reached us where we were when Kelly got her call. We told Travis about it and he theorized Mr. Strickland must have a friend at CNN, and had piggybacked the phone signal onto the signal the network was sending to us.

“Whatever else he is,” Travis said, “you gotta give him top marks for resourcefulness.”

“I knew that already, believe me,” Kelly said.

After the grand tour of the ship, things settled down a lot. We could have given nonstop interviews, since every news outlet on the planet had requested one, but we’d soon have been repeating ourselves. How many ways can you answer “What does it feel like, being out in space in a home-built contraption?” So we said we were too busy and scheduled another live report in twelve hours.

Too busy? It was a lie.

On a long trip, whether you’re headed to Mars on a spaceship or sitting in an Amtrak train from New York to Los Angeles… the main thing you experience is boredom. Actually, the trip to Mars was more tedious. On the train there would be changing scenery. While you really couldn’t beat the view from Red Thunder’s ports, it never changed.

[316] Once Earth had dwindled to a bright star and while Mars was still just another, bright reddish star, the starry background was fixed. It was hard to believe you were moving at all, much less streaking along at the fastest speed humans had ever traveled.

So what did we do? We played Monopoly and watched television.

Soon all the networks were beaming their signals to us. Dak set it up so we could monitor a dozen of them on a picture-in-picture screen, like an animated quilt, and when we saw something interesting he’d throw that image and sound onto a big screen.

The two most critical systems, navigation and air, ran automatically on computer control and we only needed to monitor them. Travis was technically always on duty while the ship was in motion, but the autopilot was proving to be perfectly reliable, so he could sleep with an alarm bell beside his bed that would sound if the computer lost the star it was fixed on. The star was never lost, and Travis slept soundly.

We did stand four-hour watches on the air system, but it didn’t interfere with the Monopoly game, since the control console could be run with a remote from the common room deck. All the lights stayed green.

Television went to work on us.

We’ve all seen it. A celebrity is murdered, or accused of murder. A powerful politician is caught in a scandal. A certain story catches the interest of the public. Suddenly ordinary people are caught in the media spotlight. Suddenly your entire life is under a microscope. The media wants to know it all, the good and the bad, but most especially the bad. Few of us are so blameless as to withstand that spotlight.

Kelly, through our new best buddy, Lou the Anchorman, tried to contact her mother, but got only a busy signal. Then her mother arrived at the Blast-Off and had to fight her way through the cameras and mikes until Mom let her into the lobby. The cameras caught them through the windows as they hugged. Then, of course, the media got to listen in as Kelly and her mom talked, briefly. Her mom was worried sick, of course, but there was no nonsense about turning the ship around.

Mr. Strickland, with the sure business sense of a barracuda, decided to jump on the Red Thunder bandwagon with both feet, both arms, and his big fat ass, all at once. When the news crews arrived at Strickland [317] Mercedes-Porsche-Ferrari, banners were already going up: HOME OF RED THUNDER CREWPERSON KELLY STRICKLAND!

When Strickland was interviewed you’d have thought he built Red Thunder single-handed. He even managed to brush away a tear when asked how he felt about his daughter going into space with this possibly crazed ex-astronaut.

“I have the highest confidence in Captain Brassard,” he said, and if I hadn’t known better I’d have believed he and Travis “Brassard” were the best of friends. “I’m sure he’ll bring my precious daughter home safe and sound.”

With a smile that wasn’t pretty at all, Kelly asked to be connected to our law firm, and told one of the shysters there that she had reason to believe Strickland Mercedes-Porsche-Ferrari was in violation of the law, displaying a trademarked term without permission. She had copyrighted and trademarked everything with the remotest connection to the Red Thunder Corporation, and at that very moment injunctions and summonses were being prepared and served on the dozens of souvenir stands and T-shirt shops and the single car dealership that were seeking to profit from our enterprise.