Jack McDevitt - POLARIS

That was simple enough. “All you’d have to do, Alex, is to get logged on to the AI response list. But the captain would have to do it.”

“But Belle will take direction from me.”

“You own the ship.”

Bonner caught up with us and asked whether we’d found everything we needed.

“Oh, yes,” said Alex. “It was an exquisite experience.”

“I’m pleased to hear it.”

“One more question, if you don’t mind, Emory.” Alex was in his charm mode.

“When Evergreen first acquired the Clermo, do you know whether anything left by the original Survey passengers was found on board? Any personal items?”

Well, that one floored him, and he didn’t mind letting us see it. “That’s sixty years ago, Mr. Kimball. Before my time.”

Right. Nothing that had happened before this guy was born could be of any consequence. “I understand that,” Alex said. “But artifacts from an historic ship are valuable.”

“I was under the impression,” he said, “that Survey scoured the ship when it originally came back.”

“Nevertheless, they might have overlooked something. If they did, it would be worthwhile to know about it, and I suspect somebody at Evergreen would have been smart enough to hang on to it.”

“I assume you’re right, Mr. Kimball. But I just have no way of knowing.”

“Who would know?”

He led the way into an exit tube. “Somebody at the Sabatini office might be able to help.”

“Thanks,” Alex said. “One final thing.” He showed him a picture of Teri Barber.

“Have you ever seen this woman?”

He squinted at it and arranged to look unimpressed. “No,” he said. “I’m afraid I don’t know her. Should I?”

We caught the ground-side transport and transferred to a flight to Sabatini. Alex sat staring out at the clouds. We’d been in the air only a half hour when the pilot warned us of turbulence ahead. Within minutes we sailed into heavy weather and started to sway. Alex made a comment about the storm, how it looked pretty dark out there. I said yes it did and asked whether he still thought Walker was involved.

“No question about it.”

“How could that be? We know they couldn’t have taken Maddy and the passengers aboard the Peronovski. Are you suggesting Alvarez lied?”

“No. Alvarez appeared before the Trendel Commission. He tested out, so we know he kept nothing back. But they never checked Walker. No reason to.”

“But they couldn’t smuggle seven people onto Alvarez’s ship and maintain them without his knowing.”

“That’s the way it looks.”

“It’s impossible.” I took a deep breath as raindrops began to splatter against the windows. “Not only couldn’t it be done without the captain’s knowledge, it couldn’t be done at all. We’ve been over this. There’s no way the Peronovski could have supported nine people.”

He took a deep breath, sighed, but said nothing.

“There might be another possibility,” I said.

“Go ahead.”

“We’ve been assuming the conspirators were a majority. Pretty much everybody except Dunninger.”

“Yes.”

“We’ve also been assuming there was a kidnapping. But I can tell you how things could have happened.”

“Go ahead.”

“Somebody, one or two, take over the ship. They have six days before the Peronovski will arrive. So they go elsewhere in the system.”

“I’m with you so far.”

“It’s not a kidnapping, Alex. They kill everybody. Get rid of the bodies. Then go to wherever the Peronovski found them. With Walker’s help they get aboard without being seen by Alvarez. And all Alvarez finds is an empty ship.”

“Good,” Alex said. “That seems to account for everything.”

I felt pretty good. “Thank you,” I said.

He was smiling, too. “Why?” he asked.

“You mean, what was the motive?”

“Yes.”

“The same thing we’ve been talking about. To prevent Dunninger from completing his work.”

“You think any of these people were capable of murder?”

“I don’t know.”

“I like your solution,” said Alex, “but I just don’t believe it happened that way.

It’s too bloody-handed. And I can’t imagine Boland or White or any of them consenting to commit murder. For any reason.”

“What about Maddy? She was fairly ruthless.”

“Maddy had no motive.”

“Maybe she was bought.”

“To murder six people? And to disappear herself? I don’t think so.” He took a deep breath. “But you agree that there could have been an extra passenger or two on board the Peronovski without the captain’s being aware of it?”

Yes. They could have used the belowdecks compartments. Walker would have had to get extra supplies on board. Extra water. But if he had done that, it could have been managed. The captain has no reason to go prowling around in storage. “I don’t see why not,” I said.

Alex closed his eyes and appeared to go to sleep. We left the storm behind, and the sun reappeared. Two hours later we crossed the Korali Mountains and began our approach to Sabatini. A cloud of vehicles floated through the sky.

Evergreen’s headquarters was located among rolling hills, on the southern gulf. I’d called ahead and established that, yes, they did have a display room that held exhibits and artifacts from their two-century-long history, that it included the Polaris shuttle and a few other items that had been found on the ship, and yes, they would provide a tour.

Our guide was Cory Chalaba, a middle-aged, steely-eyed woman who felt strongly about endangered reefs in the Minoan Sea, overflowing population on half a dozen Confederate worlds, and the recklessness, as she put it, with which people introduced secondary biosystems onto living planets. We sat drinking coffee and munching donuts for about twenty minutes in her office, talking about Evergreen’s role in what she referred to as the human adventure. “Because that’s what it is.

There’s no plan, there are no stated objectives, no thought for the future. All anyone cares about is profit. And power. And that means development.”

“What about Survey?” I asked. “They must make an effective partner for Evergreen. At least you’re not in it alone.”

“Survey’s worst of all.” She was heating up. “They want to find out how a given biosystem develops, how it got to be what it is. And then record its characteristics.

Once they’ve done that, they don’t give a damn what happens to it.” It was easy to imagine her in the protest line outside Dunninger’s lab at Epstein.

The Foundation’s display was both more and less than I’d expected. It consisted primarily of clothing worn by Evergreen collaborators during historic events, instruments used by them, notebooks, pictures, VR records. There were rocks from Grimaldo, where a small band of Evergreen’s people had died trying to protect that world’s giant lizards from hunters who had flocked to it with a vast array of high-tech cannons. Several of the species, according to an accompanying placard, were now extinct. They had the shoulder patch from Sharoun Kapata’s blouse, dating from the Mineral Wars on Dellaconda. Replicas of boats and ships were mounted along the walls, along with their histories. Transported the Ann Kornichov team to the Gables, 1325. And, Rammed and sunk by net-draggers in the skies of Peleus, 1407.

The Polaris shuttle was there, occupying an alcove. It still looked serviceable.

The public wasn’t permitted inside, but we could get up close enough to see everything. Carrying capacity was four. The harness arrangement was different from anything you’d see in a modern vehicle. Heavier, and more intrusive. Cabin design felt old-fashioned, but you’d expect that. Standard set of controls. Standard guidance system. A basic thruster package that could have come right off Belle ’s shuttle. Two storage cabinets behind the backseat, filled with spare parts. And a cargo compartment in the rear, accessible through a separate hatch. The shuttle retained the Polaris and Survey markings.