Jack McDevitt - Infinity Beach

Solly rolled his eyes.

“And what would that concern, Dr. Brandywine?”

“I’d like to talk with him about the Mount Hope incident.”

“I see. And you say Friday?”

“Yes.”

After a pause: “I’m sorry. That really won’t be possible. His schedule is booked for quite a while in advance. I can pencil you in for August eleventh.”

“August?”

“Yes. That’s really the best I can do.”

“Let it go.” She disconnected, turned and glared at Solly. “What?”

He shrugged.

“No,” she continued. “You have something to say, say it.”

“Kim, he is a CEO. You have to do better than suggest that maybe if he’s free, you’d like to see him. If possible.”

“What would you suggest?”

“Be a little less tentative. And have a better story than Mount Hope. You’re writing a book and you need his input.”

She pointed at the link. “Talk’s cheap. You want to try your luck? See if you can get me in?”

“It’s too late,” he said. “You’ve blown it. You’re going to have to take another tack.”

She looked at him, waiting.

“Give him an award,” Solly said.

“What?”

“ Give him an award. Think public relations. Look at this as just another piece of public relations. Does Interstellar do anything for the Institute?”

“Yes,” she said. “They’re a major contributor. Not through generosity, of course. It’s a good tax write-off for them. And they get a lot of favorable publicity.”

“All right. Arrange for formal recognition. A plaque with his name on it. Take it up and present it to him.”

“The Solomon J. Hobbs Award,” she said.

“That would be good.”

“For service above and beyond.”

“My thought exactly.”

Actually it wasn’t a bad idea. It wouldn’t cost anything. Just a trophy. All she’d have to do would be run it by Matt. He’d go for it in a minute. “You think Tripley’d be amenable? On such short notice?”

“Are you serious? These guys at the top of major organizations—you can’t go wrong playing to their egos.”

She resisted the idea because she should have taken this route from the start. But Solly was right, of course. She wrote out several versions of the inscription for the award, decided what they should call it, and put together a submission letter.

Then, because time was short, she called Matt and laid it all out. He listened, liked the idea as she knew he would, informed her she was to speak to the Civic Welfare Society in a few days, and told her he’d get back to her. Twenty minutes later he was on the circuit. “It’s all set,” he told her. “You’ve an appointment at the Interstellar executive suites Friday at two P.M.”

“Very good,” she said. The link was only audio, so a triumphant smile was safe.

“You’re really getting into this,” said Solly.

They flew through a cloudless sky. Kim saw another aircraft in the distance, headed north.

She connected with Shepard.

“ Hello, Kim, ” said her house AI. “ Can I be of assistance? ”

“Yes. Have you heard anything this morning from Sheyel Tolliver?”

“ No. Do you want me to alert you if something comes in? ”

“Yes,” she said. “Please do.”

“ Anything else? ”

“What can you tell me about the Hunter ? The Tripley Foundation starship? What do we have on it?”

There was a brief pause. “ The Kile Tripley Foundation no longer exists. It was terminated thirteen years ago by Benton Tripley, and replaced with— ”

“Never mind that,” said Kim. “Tell me about the ship.”

“ The Hunter, ” Shepard said, “ went into service for the Foundation Midwinter 3, 544. ” Midwinter was Greenway’s thirteenth month, added after December to make the calendar come out right. Midwinter usually consisted of twenty-two days, but it occasionally dropped a day, much as February sometimes gained one on the home world, in order to keep the celestial and terrestrial calendars in sync. “ It was used primarily to make long-range exploratory voyages into previously unknown areas. It was sold by the Foundation to Alway Research in 578. ”

“Where is it now?”

“ It is currently the property of Worldwide Interior. It’s docked at their Sky Harbor facility. ”

“Aren’t you the lucky one?” said Solly.

She activated an auxiliary screen. “Can we have a look at it, Shep? As it was in 573?”

An index appeared on the monitor. She flipped through a series of diagrams. It was small as interstellars went, a rich man’s yacht, designed by Tripley himself. It had been built as a duplicate of his home on Cedar Island. Main floor on the second level, centered on a gallery with staircases on both sides. Palomar carpeting, game room, study, main floor flight deck, upper floor mission control. External design had turrets and balconies. There were numerous viewing panels throughout, creating the standard illusion of windows inside and wraparounds on the external decks. One could sit on a porch, in effect, and look out at the cosmos as it would actually appear if the panels were made of glass.

Jump and main engines were located in the rear. Cargo, storage, and launch bay were on the bottom level.

She rotated the vessel and took the top off.

“You’re pretty good at that,” Solly said.

“At—?”

“Collecting and displaying data.”

“It’s the way I make my living. You don’t think we just pick potential donors out of a hat, do you?”

“You actually do research on those guys?”

“Sure. Solly, it costs a lot of money to fund the Institute. We just don’t have time to play hit-or-miss.”

“But there are privacy laws.”

“They’re pretty loose. Most of what you’ve done is out there somewhere if you just know where to look. You want me to show you some samples from your own life?”

“Let it go,” he said.

She smiled, brought the forward section of the Hunter in close, and examined the interior. Lush decor. Leather appointments. Plants. Wall hangings. Your classic executive mansion away from home.

Kim had been on an interstellar liner only once: when she was about twelve the family had gone to Minagwa, where her mother had relatives. It was an eleven-day voyage one way. If her memory was accurate, the rooms were small, the bulkheads dingy gray, and she’d thought the flight would never end. It had been exciting when they’d jumped out near that world’s brilliant gold sun. And Minagwa itself was a lovely place, twin worlds, both inhabited, both with oceans. But it hadn’t been worth the privations. When two months later she got back to Greenway she’d promised herself that was it. No more long-range travel bottled up in a glorified canister. And she kept her promise. She’d never done it again. Although she would have been willing to reconsider if someone had offered a flight on the Hunter .

The sale in 574 had been to a distillery executive. It changed hands several times over the next six years before Worldwide finally picked it up in a bankruptcy transaction. They were using it primarily to move executives and occasionally to chauffeur political figures.

She looked through the specifications, examining the details of the propulsion and navigation systems, life support, the onboard AI, and anything else that might eventually help. She was surprised to discover that the ship’s radio was omnidirectional, with enhancements.

That seemed odd until she recalled Hunter’s mission and the expectations of its passengers. They were not looking simply for life , but for intelligence . For them, success would come in one of two ways: the discovery of a city, or an encounter with another ship. If they found a city, they’d need general, rather than directed, broadcast capabilities. Hello to everybody. Kim was impressed: these people didn’t think small.