Jack McDevitt - Coming Home

“Precisely. Doesn’t that strike you as curious?”

Responses about Madeleine O’Rourke came in from Lucianna and Les. Neither was aware of anyone with that name. But both knew Heli Tokata. “Tall young woman,” said Lucianna. “Green eyes, odd accent. She’s from Cormoral. A history buff. And a pilot. Came to Earth for her education, got her Ph.D. from Hemmings University in Kobula and never went home. The interesting thing is that she hooked up with Baylee for a couple of years. She might still live in Kobula.”

“She was just someone I knew to say hello to,” said Les. “She lives in the British Isles, or did last time I’d heard. Place called Sudenton. She was a member of Garnett’s crowd. I think she went out on a few expeditions with him.”

Alex was at lunch when another of our clients, Jorge Brenner, called. “I have a novel, Flex , by Cal Eliot. He was a twenty-first-century science-fiction writer, and it’s about a couple of guys who chase a shape-changing monster through the solar system. It attacks research stations, colonies, and orbital bases. I don’t know why it survived. The book, I mean. It’s not very good, but it’s kind of a ride through the planetary system. Earth’s planetary system. I don’t know if it could be any help to you. But these guys go everywhere . It has pretty good descriptions of the gas giants and Mercury and Mars, and at one point they land on the Venusian surface. It’s a bound book. But I can ship it over if you like.”

I couldn’t imagine it would provide what we were looking for. But what was the harm? “Sure, Jorge,” I said. “Send it when you can. We’ll take a look and get it right back to you.”

Meantime, more books arrived, and we discovered still more asteroids. Spock, Hrazany, Nanking, and Arabia. The latter two were obviously named for places . And Transylvania for, I guess, the famous physician. Nobody’s sure whether there actually was a place with that name. The significance of the first two names is unknown.

Other asteroids were named Anderson, McCool, Saga, Shoemaker, Arago, Einstein, and more than a hundred others. But there was still no sign of Larissa. Until Flex arrived.

The book had been published eleven years ago by Babcock, which specializes in reproducing books from other eras. It was a translation, of course. The cover showed two astronauts in clunky Third-Millennium gear confronting a bulbous monster while in the background an asteroid seemed to be bearing down on a vulnerable Earth. A note on the credits page claimed that the publishing house routinely did everything it could to re-create the original packaging. And that Flex was no exception. The present cover was the same as the one that had originally been used.

I turned it over to Jacob, who produced an electronic version, and a search for Larissa gave us a positive result. In one sequence, Mark Andrews and his partner Delia Tabor are barely able to intercept an asteroid that has been flung in the direction of the home world by the invading monster of the title. The asteroid is Larissa. And the name appears only once.

“That’s it on the cover,” I said.

“Beautiful, Chase.”

“The credits say it’s not the original artwork, Alex, but that it’s a copy.”

“The original might not have resembled the asteroid anyhow. I doubt they’d have bothered going to the trouble to get an actual reproduction.”

“But—?”

“There’s a chance. At least we have something to work with.”

I had lunch with Shara the following day, and I told her about the Flex monster. “Well,” she said, “I don’t know whether information about Larissa exists anywhere. But I can tell you the best place to look.”

“Where’s that, Shara?”

“The New Honolulu University. I should have thought of them before. They have a science history archive that would probably have it if anybody does.”

I passed her comment to Alex and told him I’d get a message out to them.

“Don’t bother.” He went over and looked out the window. It was a beautiful morning, birds singing, a plane in the distance, tree limbs moving lightly in the breeze. “We can check when we get there.”

“We’re really going back?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t you think we should let them respond first? They might not be able to offer any help either.”

“If they can’t, we have another option.”

“What’s that?”

“We could try asking Baylee’s pilot where Larissa is.”

“Baylee’s pilot? Who’s that? Tokata?”

“Very good. Yes, I think that’s very likely. Chase, you haven’t been in touch with Khaled recently, have you?”

“I had a message from him last week.”

“Okay. We don’t want him to know we’re going.”

“I may already have given something away. I told him there was a possibility.”

“All right. Don’t say any more.”

“I won’t. But you want to tell me why?”

“I don’t trust him.”

Well, I knew he was wrong about that. I let it go, though. “Whatever you say. When do we leave?”

“There’s no rush. Can you manage tomorrow?”

We arrived at Galileo Station, worked our way through customs, and rode the shuttle down to New Honolulu. It was early morning when we checked into a suite at the Majestic, which looked out over a crowded beach and an ocean filled with swimmers. We changed clothes, and I headed for the door, assuming we would be leaving immediately for the university.

But Alex sat down. “We have a call to make first,” he said. He asked the directory if it had a listing for Heli Tokata. “She lives in Sudenton. In the British Isles.”

“Yes, sir,” it replied. “We have it.”

“May I have her code?”

“Of course. It’s Hobart 2796-331-49.”

“Now,” Alex said, “I have to do a little artwork.” He used his link to project his image, seating it in one of the armchairs. Then he manipulated it, changed it to a young woman. Blond hair, attractive. Brown-and-gray business suit. “Maybe a little more intensity in the eyes.” He made the adjustment. “What do you think, Chase?”

“She looks good.” I assumed he wanted to mislead Tokata. “You want me to provide the voice?”

He shook his head. “I’ve got it.” He fiddled with the link again and whispered “Hello, how are you?” into it. The image repeated the greeting. He tried it again, manipulated the sound until it had acquired a soft, vaguely seductive feminine tone with a British accent. “How’s that?”

“Not sure,” I said. “What’s she going to do?”

He locked her into the memory so she would be the voice and image that appeared to the person at the other end of the call. I found myself thinking of Zachary Conner. “Chase,” he said, “why don’t you sit over there so you don’t get caught in the exchange? You don’t want to be seen.”

That was fine by me. Alex was much better at this kind of thing than I was. So I moved well off to the side.

“Good,” he said. “Now, what’s Eisa’s code?”

“Khaled? You mean Tokata’s code, right?”

“No. We need to settle something first.”

I began to squirm. “Do we really have to do this, Alex?”