Jack McDevitt - SEEKER

“Stay away, Chase. Go back where you came from.”

The red beam snicked on and touched metal, about head high. The metal started to scorch. Black drops bubbled and ran down the bulkhead. I watched it with a sense of satisfaction. Pictured her standing on the other side. My longtime friend. God help me.

“All right. Get out of the lock. I’m leaving. If you’re still there, you’re going to get bounced around pretty good.”

I can’t say I felt any sympathy for her.

“Go, Chase. Get clear.”

I lengthened the cut, drawing a line about a half meter long.

“Are you out, Chase? Last chance.”

I did a parallel cut an arm’s length lower. More bubbles; more air.

“Chase?”

“I’m still here.”

Air pressure inside the yacht was thirty-two pounds per square inch. It began to push through into the lock.

A white lamp flashed on, started to blink. It signaled a maneuver coming up. Danger.

Belt down.

“What are you doing?” she screamed. “Chase, stop!”

She was up front now, probably climbing into her seat, and suddenly getting warning lights. The deck trembled. The engines were coming on-line.

I made a vertical cut at one end of the parallel lines, connecting them.

“Whatever you’re doing, Chase, please stop. Please. I’ll open up.”

Good-bye, Windy, I thought. And started the fourth cut, to complete the rectangle.

The bulkhead blew open as we began to accelerate. I was thrown backward. A hurricane of clothing, plastic, and towels blasted into the airlock and were spewed out through the open hatch.

You may have your quantum-powered marvels, darting into the deepest vaults of the sky. You may jump between the galaxies, leaving light in your wake. As for me, I like to see what’s out the window.

Give me a brisk wind and a schooner under a full head of sail.

- Kasha Thilby,

Signs of Life, 1428 The acceleration pinned me to a bulkhead in the airlock, and I had to wait it out. After a few minutes, it shut down and I was able to get out of the lock and up to the cockpit.

Windy was dead, tangled in the harness, frozen, asphyxiated, bloated. It didn’t look like her anymore.

I pulled her clear and set her on the deck. The AI wasn’t going to accept direction from a stranger, so I went off-line and started the long turn that would take me back to the Spirit. Then I used the Lotus ’s comm system to contact the Gonzalez, and told them we needed assistance. Not an emergency, I added, because by that time we had things under control. They acknowledged and said they’d be on their way in about an hour.

I put Windy in one of the compartments and closed the door.

Needless to say, Shara and Alex were relieved when I pulled alongside the Spirit and took them off.

We closed the outer airlock hatch and repressurized. They listened to my account of what had happened, and Alex became solicitous. Was I okay? You did the right thing.

No choice.

We debated going back to the Spirit to recover Charlie’s body. But it entailed too much risk. We were getting deep into the dwarf’s gravity well. So we took a pass and lifted away, while the Spirit continued its long plunge toward the bright red clouds.

Alex got on the circuit with Brankov and guaranteed he’d find the flight worthwhile.

He refused to divulge details, but Brankov had no trouble guessing we’d found Balfour.

We welded a patch over the section I’d burned out of the airlock, restoring it to working order.

“I think it’s time,” Alex said, “that we take a look at Balfour.”

The optical equipment on board the Lotus was minimal. The yacht had a single telescope, intended for navigation only, which meant no serious long-range capability and no fine-tuning. We couldn’t make out much planetary detail until we were virtually on top of the place. The atmosphere, a gauzy cloud-filled envelope, looked terrestrial enough. Gradually two island-continents and a vast globe-encircling ocean came into view. We could see a few storms. Polar ice caps appeared. And mountain chains and rivers.

“I guess they knew what they were doing,” said Alex.

Shara looked thoughtful. “I don’t see how it could have made any difference. They couldn’t have survived the transition phase. But it would have been a nice try.”

Alex asked again about ground conditions while the world was being hauled out of orbit.

“It’s unlikely any of the larger land animals could have survived,” Shara said. “After the initial shock, planetary rotation would have been disrupted while it went into tidal lock. That triggers everything. They’d have had turbulent oceans, supersonic hurricanes, volcanic eruptions, you name it.”

“And this would last-?”

“Forty years. Maybe fifty. Maybe longer. It’s not my specialty, but I’d guess it would continue well beyond any capability a colony would have for survival.”

“It looks placid now,” I said.

Blue water, clouds, river valleys. Even the jungles looked inviting. “It’s exactly the right distance from the dwarf,” said Shara.

“For reasonable ground temperatures?”

“Yes. On the facing side, of course. The back side of the world will be pretty cold.”

“Would the ocean freeze?”

“Don’t know.”

Clouds were, for the most part, white cumulus, but colored by the crimson glow of the pseudosun. The storms we’d seen through the scope drifted across the broad expanse of the ocean. Snow lay on some of the higher peaks. “You were right about the jungle,” said Alex. It appeared to be spread across both landmasses.

The Lotus burned an exorbitant amount of fuel. Alex had been anxious to get to Balfour, so we came in at a pretty good clip. “I’m going to use the planet to slow us down,” I said. “We’ll go around, about three-quarters of an orbit. A lot of it over the cold side. I’m sorry about that, but there’s not much I can do.”

“Okay,” said Alex. “What then?”

“We’ll come out with an angle that’ll allow us to go into orbit around the dwarf.

When we’ve shed enough velocity we’ll come back here. Less stress on everybody and a lot easier on the fuel.”

Alex looked wistfully at the arc of the world. “Wish we had a lander,” he said.

“The Gonzalez will have one.”

Shara laughed. “I’m sure Emil will be happy to accompany you down.”

We were in orbit around the dwarf when the Gonzalez contacted us and announced it was in the neighborhood. “What is that thing?” asked Brankov, referring to the dwarf.

“Is that the surprise you promised us?”

“Yes,” said Alex. “That’s it. Or part of it, anyhow.”

“What’s the rest of it?”

“I’m not sure where you are just now, Emil. But can you see the blue planet in orbit around it?”

“Negative.” His response took more than a minute. So the Gonzalez was still at a considerable distance. He was wearing a Beron jacket, one of those stiff models with pockets everywhere. “Is there a blue planet here somewhere?” I wasn’t sure whether he was asking us or his pilot.

“In orbit around the dwarf,” said Alex. “A living world.”

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay. That’s interesting. What’s it have to do with us?”

“It used to be in the Tinicum system.”

Brankov grinned. It was a big, what-time-does-the-celebration-start expression.

A few hours later we slipped into an equatorial orbit around Balfour. We were over the dark side during those early minutes, and could see nothing below, except land and water.

We watched the sun rise, and crossed the terminator into the daylight. It was our first leisurely look at the world. Alex was glued to the viewport, and Shara was watching the monitor. They both reacted at the same time, Alex pumping a fist while Shara told me in an excited voice to look.