Джек Макдевитт - A Voice in the Night

“Well, maybe. You have any ideas?”

“Sure. Maybe the Chinese will do it for us.”

“How do you mean?”

“Think how we’d react if they started setting up a base on the Moon. Or, even better, if we could spot an alien vehicle out around Saturn. Lord, that would produce some results.”

“You read too much science fiction, Laura.”

“Yeah. Maybe. I don’t want to see everything go under.” Her voice caught. It was the first time he’d sensed that level of emotion in her. “Maybe we could fake something?”

There wasn’t much left to do on the platform. The project seal, which had been imprinted on one of the bulkheads, a rocket crossing through a set of Saturnian rings, seemed especially sad as he and Judy sat quietly in the operations area, talking about what they would do when they got home. Their careers with NASA were pointless now. Judy Parker had been the pilot when Matt came to the platform. “It’s time,” she said, “to go back and find something else to do with my life. Maybe even start a family.”

“You serious?”

“Sure.” She’d flown jets in one of the endless Middle East wars. But she was one of the gentlest people Matt had ever known. It was hard to imagine her in the cockpit of a fighter. She was an African-American, cool, calm, impossible to rattle. When they’d blown an engine on the ride to L2, she’d told him to relax, had put on a pressure suit and pushed out through the airlock. Then she came back, shrugged, threw some switches, and the problem had gone away. But the decision to shut down the L2 had gotten to her. “I’ve given most of my adult life to NASA,” she’d told him when the announcement had come in. “I’m done. I’m tired of politicians who can find money to throw into one war after another, but can’t fix the highways or hire teachers. And certainly can’t get themselves together for something that requires a little bit of imagination.”

She stared at Matt. “You know,” she said, “I suspect if, several thousand years from now, somebody goes back to the Moon—” Her eyes brightened and her voice caught. “—If they go back to the Moon, they might be surprised when they see footprints.” She cleared her throat. Stiffened. “Well, we’ll see what happens.”

Matt was more optimistic. “Eventually, we’ll make it. We’ll put a colony on Mars and keep going. It might not be you or me. But somebody will head out of town.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” she said. She was an attractive woman. She wore her hair short, and she had an easy smile. But there was something in her manner that always reminded you who was in charge.

“Judy, are you going to stay with the Agency?”

“The Agency’s leaving me, Matt,” she said. “I don’t know them anymore.”

The radio beeped. Matt picked up and heard a male voice: “Earthport, this is Houston. We have reports of an incoming asteroid. Data is being fed to your computer. It’s not very big. Coming in from behind the Moon. Out in your area. It’s why we didn’t pick it up earlier.”

“They think it’s our fault,” said Judy, smiling.

Matt held up a hand while he tried to listen. “We just got word half an hour ago,” Houston continued. “It’s probably not a problem, but we do not have a good angle. Please get us a reading.”

“Houston, you guys sent the scientists home last month. What precisely do you want? Vector and velocity?”

“That would be helpful, yes.”

Snotnose. “I’ll get back to you.” He sat down at the control board, grumbled, and turned dials.

“Need help?” asked Judy.

“No, I’ve got it.” Display lines appeared on the monitor. Auxiliary screens lit up. “Okay,” he said. “Here’s the data coming in from Houston.” He relayed it into the direction finder and studied the results. “They’re right. They can’t see it from the ground.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” said Judy. “If the Moon blocks it off, it can’t get anywhere near Earth, right?”

“The Moon doesn’t stay in one place,” said Matt.

“Oh. Yes. Good point.”

Stars moved steadily across the main display. A blinker appeared. Matt tapped the screen with his index finger. “There it is.”

“How big is it?”

The rock was shaped like a chicken leg, bulbous at one end, relatively narrow at the other. It was turning slowly, tumbling, moving in the general direction of the Moon. “Looks like about fifty meters across at its widest point. Maybe two hundred meters long.”

“That’s not exactly small.”

“Nope.”

“Got a velocity?”

“Hold on.” He waited for the numbers to steady up. “Looks like about twenty klicks per second.”

More lights appeared and began blinking. Matt pushed one of the pads with his index finger. “And we have a vector.”

“Is it going to hit the Moon?” said Judy.

He brought up images representing the asteroid and the Moon. A red line extended out from the asteroid. It moved toward the lunar rim. And narrowly missed it.

“No,” said Matt. He zoomed out, bringing the Earth into the picture. The line continued toward the planet. And again skipped past the edge.

“Not by much,” Judy said. “But I guess they can stop worrying.”

Matt went back to the mike. “Houston, this is Earthport.”

“Go ahead, Earthport.” A different voice this time. One of the comm ops.

“We’ve forwarded the data. You guys can relax.”

“Thanks. Glad to hear it.”

“Let us know if you need anything else. Earthport out.”

“You know what would be really nice?” said Judy. “If that thing was headed directly for New York, and we had a ship to go out there and hit it with a laser cannon. Like the Enterprise .”

Judy was back in the washroom while Matt sat quietly watching the Cernan . Its course was bringing it around the side of the Moon. “Laura,” he said, “I have you onscreen.”

“Roger that. I see you too.”

A long pause, while he tried to think of something else to say. “It’ll be good to get back to the Cape.”

“I’m sure it will. You’ve been out here how long? Eight months?”

“A year.” He stared at the blinker. “I hate to leave, but it’ll be good to get some fresh air again.”

“I guess so.” Another long pause. “Well, I’m looking forward to seeing you again, Matt.”

“You, too,” he said. “Still playing ball?”

“When I get the chance. But I’m not hitting much. I think the coach is hoping I’ll run into another fence.”

Matt felt as if his mind had emptied. “Well,” he said, “I better get back to work.”

“Okay. Cernan out.”

He took a deep breath. When he was in contact with her, it was as if he was back in high school.

When the Earth moved out from behind the Moon, allowing direct transmissions to the L2 platform, Houston routinely beamed a bundled TV signal. It tended to be a collection of films, current news shows, and whatever else might be of interest. Judy and Matt hadn’t seen anything for several weeks, so they scanned the latest package with interest. It included several late night comedians. AMC was running an old John Wayne marathon. Sports Center was talking about the new fan movement which had resulted from continuing escalation of ticket prices. Millions of the baseball faithful had signed a pledge to boycott games and cancel TV service during the coming major league season. Nobody, though, believed they would actually abide by it.