Jack McDevitt - POLARIS

“Did he ever talk to you about it? Did he tell you what happened out there?”

“Alex, he told the world. If you’re asking me whether he said things in private that he didn’t reveal to the commission, the answer’s no. Except his personal feelings.”

“How did he feel?”

“ Spooked would probably be the appropriate word.” I could see her looking back across the years and shaking her head. “It was an unnerving experience. He knew Warren personally, you know.”

“Mendoza?”

“Yes. They were close friends. They grew up together. Stayed close over the years.” Her eyes slid shut, then opened again. “Poor Warren. In the early days we used to socialize with them. He and his wife, Amy.”

“Did Shawn know anybody else on the flight? Did he know Tom Dunninger?”

“Not really. We met him once. But I wouldn’t want to say we really knew him.”

“Audrey, I don’t like bringing up a painful memory, but there was some suspicion that Shawn’s death wasn’t an accident. What do you think happened?”

“It’s not a problem, Alex. I got past it long ago. I assume you want to know whether I think he was murdered?”

“Do you?”

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”

“Who stood to gain by his death?”

“No one that I know of. May I ask what this could possibly have to do with the Polaris?”

“We’re not sure it has anything to do with it. But a couple of days ago, someone sabotaged the antigravity pods in our skimmer. Very nearly killed us.”

Her eyes got wide, and she looked over at me, then at something far away.

“Well, isn’t that strange? I’m so glad you’re both all right.”

“Thank you.”

“You were luckier than Shawn.”

“I was fortunate to have this young lady along,” said Alex, giving me full credit.

Deservedly, I suppose. He described what I’d done, embellishing it substantially so it sounded as if I’d been doing handstands on the wings.

When he finished she refilled our glasses and offered a toast to me. “I wish you’d been with Shawn,” she said. A tear rolled down her cheek. “It got a lot of coverage here, naturally.” I could see her replaying old memories. “And you think there’s a connection with Shawn’s death.” The lines around her eyes and mouth deepened. “But surely-” She thought better of what she was going to say and let it go.

Alex wrote something in a paper notebook. He often took notes when he dealt with clients. He’d learned long ago to avoid recording whole conversations, because it had the effect of making people reluctant to speak. “Had there been any indication your husband was in danger? Any threat? Any warning?”

She sipped her wine and placed the glass, still half-full, on the table. “No.

Nothing like that. There was just no reason I knew of that anyone would have wanted to harm him.”

“Audrey,” I said, “forgive me for asking, but if there had been a problem, would he have told you?”

That prompted a hesitation. “Earlier in our marriage, he would certainly have said something. During the later years”-her brow wrinkled, and she looked uncomfortable-“he never gave me reason not to trust him, Chase. He was a decent man. But I did feel he had secrets.”

I thought she immediately wished she could recall the remark. But it was too late, and she only shrugged.

“About the problems at CyberGraphic?”

“No. Not really. I knew about those. They were all trying to get control of the operation, three of them, and I’m not sure Shawn was any better or worse than the others. Not that they were vile, or anything like that. They were all just competitive.

Opportunistic. Money and power were important to them.” Her eyes met mine. “You know what I mean, dear.”

“Yes,” I said, not sure what she was suggesting.

“Audrey,” said Alex, “what made you think he had secrets?”

She sat back and thought it over. “He changed,” she said.

“In what way?”

“It’s hard to put a finger on.”

“Did he not confide in you as much as he had?”

Those blue eyes became suddenly suspicious. “Is any of this for publication, Alex?”

“No, ma’am. Listen, somebody tried to kill us. We think it’s the same somebody who blew up the exhibition at Survey last month. And it might be the same somebody who arranged Shawn’s accident. If I may ask, where were you and your husband based when the Polaris incident occurred?”

“We were at Indigo.”

“But, of course, he wasn’t with you when the Polaris docked there on its way to Delta Kay.”

“No. He’d been gone for a couple of weeks. On the Peronovski. ”

“This change in attitude, did it occur after the Polaris incident?”

She thought about it. “It’s hard to remember, but yes,” she said finally.

Alex nodded. “How long were you at Indigo?”

“Three years. The standard tour.”

“Audrey, how would you describe those years?”

Her eyes brightened. “That was a good time. Best years of my life.”

That surprised me. “Most people don’t much care for duty on the outstations,” I said.

Audrey glowed. “We were a small group, the technical support people. We shared the same interests, and we all got along quite well. No, they were good days.”

“Not like here?”

“Well, not like the corporate world. At Indigo, he was isolated from the movers and shakers. Out there we were together, and there was no one else there except friends.”

Alex made another notation in his book. “You left there in 1366?”

“Yes.”

“The Polaris and the other two ships docked at Indigo on the way out to Delta Kay. A year earlier.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“You remember it, then?”

“Oh, yes. It was a major event. Six celebrities on the Polaris. Everybody was excited. They did interviews. People went down to the dock hoping to see one or another of them. It became a holiday.”

“Did you see Mendoza during that time?”

“Yes. We had lunch together, as a matter of fact. At dockside, I believe it was.

They weren’t in port long. Hardly a day, as I recall.”

“Was he excited about going to Delta Karpis?”

She frowned. “I don’t know. He seemed kind of quiet that afternoon.”

“Was that unusual?”

“Yes, I thought so. I’d always found him outgoing. Nonstop jokes. Everything was funny to Warren.”

“But not that day?”

“No. I thought at the time that he was overawed by the nature of the mission.”

“That might explain it.” Alex looked thoughtful.

She got up and went over and poked the fire a couple of times. “I had a renaissance sandwich. Funny how you remember something like that. Renaissance and iced tea. And bamberry sauce. I don’t know why it sticks in my mind. Maybe because as it turned out, I never saw Warren again.”

“They left next day?”

“First thing in the morning. I went over and watched them shove off.”

“Was there anything unusual about your conversation with him?”

“Not that I can recall.”

“Were there any contacts at all between your husband and Warren? Any messages pass between them?”

“I don’t think so. At least nothing that Shawn ever mentioned.”

“Audrey,” I said, “how did your husband react when you first heard what had happened to the Polaris? ”

“Well, understand he was out on the Peronovski. He’d been gone a couple of weeks. They were on their way to some place or other, I really don’t remember where, but it was Shawn’s job to calibrate the AI. That’s what he did, design and smooth out the AIs. At that time the company had been marketing a new system, or upgrading an old one. I’m not sure which. I’m trying to remember the name. Sailor.