Jack McDevitt - POLARIS

If he finds another one, how about letting us take a look first? Before you guys charge in.”

“This one took him the better part of two years.”

She sighed at the injustice of it all. “We’ve had people devote whole lifetimes and come away empty.”

“Alex is pretty good at what he does, Windy.”

She got up, walked over to the window, turned her back to it, and half sat against the sill. “You want nothing in return?” she asked.

“No. It’s free and clear.” I handed her a chip. “This is the location. And the transfer of all rights.”

“Thank you. We’ll see that you get full credit.”

“You’re welcome. I hope you find it useful.”

She opened a drawer in her desk and put the chip inside. “I’ll have the director get back to Alex. Express his appreciation.”

“That would be nice,” I said. “And by the way I have something for you. ” I’d brought a couple of samples with me, pieces from the life-support system, a section of tubing, a filter, and a tiny motor. I took them out of my carrying case and held them out to her. Now this is not going to seem like much to the casual reader, but I knew Windy, and I watched the tension drain away and saw her eyes light up. She reached out tentatively for them, and I put them in her hands.

She held them, letting the centuries flow through her, then she put them on the desk and hugged me. “I appreciate it, Chase,” she said. “You’re okay.”

“You’re welcome,” I said.

“But I still think you two are grave robbers.”

Ten minutes later she was walking me into the office of the director. His name was Louis Ponzio. A man of boundless importance. Ramrod straight. Used to giving directions. Took himself very seriously.

He was a little guy, narrow eyes, narrow nose, lots of energy. Always ready to shake your hand and take you into his confidence. You and I know how things are, he seemed to say. We can trust each other. You always knew when he was in the room.

And you knew he was accustomed to getting his way. He was Dr. Ponzio. Nobody would ever have called him Louie.

Windy explained about the Shenji platform, and Ponzio smiled and tried to look overwhelmed by it all. I didn’t know him that well, but he was a mathematician and a political appointment. That was a double whammy. Political appointments were inevitably people who were getting paid off. And I’d had several bad experiences with mathematicians over the years. Never knew one who could get passionate about anything other than sex and numbers. And not necessarily in that order.

We shook hands all around. Filled the glasses for everyone. He’d always admired Rainbow’s efforts. If there was anything he could do, please don’t hesitate.

I always say that when you do the right thing, you get rewarded. Windy did some research and was able to date the outstation a little more precisely than we had, to the end of the Imperium years.

A couple of days later she called me at home in a state of suppressed excitement.

“I think I know who the victim was.”

I’d slept late, and was just getting out of the shower. Since I wasn’t appropriately dressed, we stayed on audio. “Who?”

“Lyra Kimonity.”

“Is she someone I should know?”

“Probably not. She was the first wife of Khalifa Torn.”

Ah. Torn I knew. Attila. Bogandiehl. Torn. Three of a kind. He had finished off the Imperium, seized power for himself, and ruled four years, murdering millions, before his own guards took him out. He had seen no need for the outstations, which were simply a drain on the treasury, so he shut them down.

“Torn liked to sleep with the wives of his staff and officers. Lyra made a fuss.”

“Ah.”

“She disappeared.”

“What makes you think it was her at the outstation?”

“Most historians think he exiled her. His stooges might have misunderstood his intention, because later he changed his mind. Tried to get her back. Or maybe he just forgot his original instructions. Anyhow, the person he’d given her to couldn’t produce her. When he found out the details of what had happened-the archives don’t specify what that was-he executed the people responsible. One of them was” -she paused to look at her notes- “Abgadi Diroush. And there was a second one whom he personally drowned. Berendi Lakato. Lakato was responsible for shutting down the outstations. And Diroush headed up the team that actually did the work. In any case, Lyra was never seen again.”

“Well,” I said, “that’s good news.”

That startled her. “How do you mean?”

“Makes the artifacts more valuable. Everybody loves a monster. You don’t think he ever visited the station personally, do you?”

She let me see that she was shocked. “No,” she said, “I don’t think so. He didn’t like to travel. Afraid somebody might seize power while he was gone.”

“That’s a pity.”

“I sent you a picture of her.”

I put it on-screen. Lyra had been a red-haired beauty. Big almond eyes. A fetching smile. I wondered how she’d gotten involved with Khalifa. And it occurred to me it’s not always an advantage to look good.

“Look at the wrist,” she said.

I knew what I was going to find: the jade bracelet. And there it was. I could even make out the sprig of ivy.

“Is it the same as the one you found?”

“Yes.”

“That confirms it, then.”

“Yeah.” Lyra was maybe twenty-two when the picture was taken. “How old would she have been?”

“We can’t get it exactly, but she was still young. Twenty-seven, maybe.”

I thought about her, marooned on the station. I wondered whether they’d at least left the lights on for her.

“Something else,” Windy said. “You brought back a boatload of artifacts, right?

From the Night Angel. ”

“We salvaged a few items, yes.”

“I was thinking that we might provide you with some publicity. Help you sell the merchandise.”

“What did you have in mind, Windy?”

“Why not put the artifacts temporarily in our hands? We could create an exhibition at the museum. Put everything on display for, say, a month. I suspect that sort of event would enhance their value considerably.”

“We might consider making some of them available,” I told her. “What do we get in return?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You get a Shenji exhibition. What do we get?”

“Chase, you’re going to get a ton of museum exposure.”

“I think Survey comes out way ahead on that arrangement.”

“Okay. I’ll tell you what. Let us have the artifacts, and I’ll let your boss in on something.”

“Nothing up this sleeve,” I said.

“Hear me out.”

“What’s the something?”

“We’re approaching the sixtieth anniversary of the loss of the Polaris. ”

I tossed the towel into a hamper and pulled on a robe. “You alone, Windy?”

“Yes.”

I went out to the living room and switched over to visual. She was sitting behind her desk.

“Must be nice to be able to keep those kinds of hours,” she said.

“I’m paid for what I know.”

“Of course. I’ve always thought that.”

“What’s the something you’re prepared to offer?”

“Next week, to mark the anniversary, several books are being released. A major studio production has been put together, and one of the networks even has a psychic who’s going around explaining what happened.”

“Aboard the Polaris? ”

“Yes.”

“What’s he say? The psychic?”

“Ghosts got ’em.”

“Why am I not surprised to hear that?”

“I’m not kidding. Ghosts. More or less. Some sort of supernatural fog. Goes right through the hull.”