Jack McDevitt - POLARIS

Voyager. Something like that.”

“Mariner,” I suggested.

“Yes. That’s it. He took it out to run tests.”

“Mariner,” I said, “became a precursor for the Halo series.” Belle was a Halo.

“So how’d he react?”

“I used to hear from him every day or so. When the news first got to him, he sent me a message and told me he was sure everything would be okay. He said it was probably just a communication breakdown.”

“When they found the Polaris, did he continue to keep you abreast of things?”

“No. Captain Alvarez ordered him to stop all personal communications. I received a notification to that effect from the comm center telling me I wouldn’t hear any more from Shawn for a while.” She smiled. “It was very upsetting. They told me Shawn was okay, but we all knew something terrible had happened.”

“How long was it before they revealed that the passengers had been lost?”

“Three or four days, I think.”

Alex finished his wine, and put the glass down. “What can you tell me about your husband, Audrey?”

“What’s to tell? He was a good man, mostly. He was a good father.”

“How many children did you have with him?”

“Two. Two sons. They’re both grandfathers now. He worked hard, Alex. He was a good provider. Liked to play simulated war games with the boys. They went on sometimes for weeks.” She smiled. “I was just out of high school when I met him.”

“Love at first sight?”

“Oh, yes. He was the handsomest man I’ve ever seen.”

“I don’t know how to ask the next question.”

“It’s all right. He never cheated. Never showed any interest in other women.”

“No. That’s not really where I was headed. Was he honest in his dealings with other people?”

“Why, yes. Of course.”

“Could he be bought?”

“To do something dishonest? No, I don’t think so.”

Alex showed her pictures of Agnes Crisp, Teri Barber, and Marcus Kiernan. “Do you by any chance know any of these people?” he asked.

She studied them and shook her head. “No, I’ve never met any of them.” She focused on the two women. “They look a lot alike. Styles are different, hair color. But aren’t they the same person?”

Alex said no, he didn’t think so. “I wanted to thank you for talking to us,” he said, “and for the wine.”

We came out the door, stood a moment in the cold air, then walked between the banks of snow and got into the skimmer. We lifted off and headed out to sea. “Okay,” I said, watching the lights of Tabatha-Li recede. “What was that all about?”

“Shawn Walker was killed because he knew something.”

“What did he know?”

“Let me ask you a question first,” Alex said. “What can you tell me about the Peronovski? ”

“Class II freighter. Sheba model. Obsolete. They don’t build them anymore.”

“There were two people on board, Alvarez and Walker. How many people could the Peronovski support?”

“It had two cabins topside, and, as best I can recall, two below.”

“Damn it, Chase, I didn’t ask about cabins. How many people?”

“No need to get excited,” I said. “It was designed to accommodate three passengers plus the captain. Four in all. The rule of thumb is that your life support can normally handle fifty percent more than the official capacity. That makes six maximum.”

“What happens if they go for more than that?”

“Brain damage,” I said. “Not enough air. Why? What are you thinking?”

Alex was staring down at the sea. “I think I know why it all happened. What I’m trying to figure out is how. ”

“Tell me why.”

“I think Dunninger had the formula he was looking for. I think the other five passengers were involved in a conspiracy to see that it never saw the light of day.”

“That can’t be right,” I said. “Those people were heavyweights. They weren’t going to get involved in a kidnapping.”

“You want me to play Mendoza’s address to the White Clock Society again?

You’ve heard what they think. All five were committed to the idea that most human misery is in a direct cause-and-effect relationship with overpopulation. And here’s a guy who’s going to prevent people from dying? Who’s going to see that the population of the Confederacy goes up by hundreds of millions every year?”

“So they kidnapped Tom Dunninger? And Maddie?”

“They kidnapped Dunninger. That’s why they destroyed the Epstein lab. To get rid of everything. To ensure nobody else could repeat the work.”

“But why do something so complicated as the Polaris? If they were going to kidnap him and burn the lab, why not just do it?”

“Because, first, they knew they’d get caught if the authorities began investigating a kidnapping. It would have resulted in a massive manhunt. And, second, because they didn’t want people to know that Dunninger was on the right track. Everybody assumed then, as they assume now, that it can’t be done. So what they needed was an elaborate illusion. The Delta Kay business provided the perfect opportunity.”

“My God, Alex. You really think it happened that way?”

“I have no doubt.”

“But where’d they go? How’d they manage it?”

“I don’t know. I thought at first they might have come back on the Peronovski.

With Walker’s collusion.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Even with extra air tanks installed?”

“It would have been difficult. And Alvarez would have had to be in on it, too.

Not to mention a couple of technicians.”

“Too many outside people.”

“I agree. They’d never have been able to keep it quiet.”

When we got back to the hotel, they had us sign a statement that we wouldn’t go onto the beach for the next few nights because it was the mating season for the yoho and if we did go out and something happened, we would not hold the hotel liable.

“What,” I asked Alex, “is a yoho?”

We were in the lobby. The snow had stopped, and the sea was gray and misty. “I don’t think we want to know,” he said.

It became an interesting evening. The snowstorm renewed itself and turned into a howling blizzard, there was an earthquake warning at about the time we were going to bed, and a few hours later they evacuated the hotel because a yoho got into the building.

The yohos, it turned out, were arthropodic creatures with a taste for people.

Fortunately, they only showed up five days out of the year, which coincided with their breeding season, and on those occasions they rarely left the beach. After an hour standing in the snow, we were informed by management that the yoho had gone, everything was okay, and we could go back in. When we got to our suite, we inspected it carefully and locked the doors.

The quake hit shortly after we got back inside, but it amounted to nothing more than a series of moderate tremors. By then I had no interest in turning off the lights, so I went into the sitting room and spent time with Alex, who was engaged in a VR conversation. He handed me a headband. I put it on, and Chek Boland’s avatar appeared. He was relaxed on a beach in a collapsible chair, wearing khaki shorts and a pullover and a wide-brimmed hat to keep the sun off. There was no ocean visible, or audible, however. The beach went on forever.

“… one son,” he was saying. “ His name was Jon. He was twenty at the time of the Polaris. ”