Jack McDevitt - Infinity Beach

“Why did we just explode Alpha Maxim? We too will be gone for thousands of years before any results can possibly come in.” She paused to sip from her glass of water. “I’ll tell you why. We launched the long probe to Alpha Centauri for the same reason we built the jump engines that powered the Queen : We don’t like horizons. We don’t like limits. We always want to see beyond them. We don’t stop at the water’s edge, do we? What is a beach to us but a place from which to launch ourselves at the future?”

Tripley seemed distracted. His eyes locked on a point somewhere up near the ceiling lights.

“We’re here this evening to celebrate the retirement of one of the symbols of that dream. The Queen has been carrying people and cargo among the Nine Worlds for a century and a half. She’s earned a rest. And it’s nice to know she’ll get that rest in a place where future generations can touch her. Can know at least a little of what she was about.”

She connected the Star Queen to the research ships operated by the Institute, mentioned Max Esterly’s contribution to jump engine technology, and ended with the assertion that the ships would continue to push the frontier outward. “Some of us wonder why the cosmos is so large, so inconceivably huge that we can never even see more than a fraction of it. No matter how powerful the telescope, there’s a universe of light out there that simply hasn’t had time to reach us. Fifteen billion years, and it still hasn’t gotten here. Well, maybe things are this way to reassure us, to let us know that no matter how far we go, there’ll always be a horizon to challenge. There’ll always be another bend in the river.”

Tripley returned from wherever he’d been, caught her watching him, and tried to adopt a look of congenial interest.

A number of people came up afterward to ask about current Institute projects, always a sign that a presentation had gone well. They talked about Beacon, and the president of the Greenway Travel Association, a lovely blond in green and white, wondered whether it wasn’t possible to do something similar in hyperspace, an all-points signal that would draw attention to itself, but which wouldn’t require two million years to get a response.

“The problem’s directional,” said Kim. “You can’t send a transmission that simply spreads out in all directions. Hyperspace communications have to be aimed. So, yes, if we knew where the celestials were, we could say hello.” When the last of them had wandered off, Cole and McKay shook her hand, and Tripley approached.

“That was pretty good, Kim,” he said when they were alone. “But I know you don’t really believe it.”

“ What don’t I believe?” she asked coolly.

“That we won’t stop at the water’s edge? That we don’t like limits.” His voice suggested it was a naive notion.

Kim was by no means above stretching the truth in a fund-raiser. But she truly believed that curiosity and the pursuit of knowledge were basic to the human character. “Do you?” she asked.

“Do I what ?

“Accept limitations?”

“It’s a different matter.”

“Why?”

“That’s me . You were talking about the species.”

“We’re all wired pretty much the same, Ben. When you’re willing to lock in the status quo and kick back on your front porch, let me know. I’d like to be there.”

“That’s a debater’s trick, turning the question back on me. But it’s time to face the truth, Kim. We’re past our peak. This business here,” he glanced around, taking in the entire banquet room, “is sad. The interstellars are coming home. I don’t like it; it’s not good for business. But it’s the reality. We’re retreating to the Nine Worlds and the big ships are going into mothballs. I wouldn’t say this anywhere else, and if you repeat it I’ll deny it, but the dream you’re talking about was dead before you were born. It’s just that the corpse is still warm.”

“If you’re right,” said Kim, “we have no future. But I’m not ready to fold my cards yet.”

“Good for you.” There was a chill in his voice. “But you’re refusing to look at the facts. Greenway and the other worlds are settling in for the long haul. Nobody’s really going anywhere anymore. Life’s too good for most people. Stay home and party. Let the machines run everything. I’ll tell you what I think about Beacon: Somebody could answer tomorrow, and unless they threatened us, nobody would give a damn.”

She was drinking a strawberry miconda. It was simultaneously cold and heat-producing. Good stuff. “You think it’s a straight downhill run.”

“Last days of the Empire,” he said. “It’s a good time to be alive, except at the very end. If you’re a hedonist. As all men are.”

“Are you , Ben?”

He considered the question. “Not exclusively,” he said at last. His gaze bored into her. “No. You wouldn’t want to mistake me for a hedonist.”

During the course of the evening, she mingled with as many of the guests as she could. She invited everyone to come by the Institute, assured them of private tours, and promised to introduce them to the team that had put Beacon together. By two A.M., when she returned to her apartment weary and more than a little light-headed, she was satisfied that she’d done well by her employer.

But she’d spent six hours on arduous duty and wasn’t quite ready to sleep.

She got a cup of hot chocolate from the dispenser, changed into pajamas, looked through the library, and picked out The Queen Under Fire , an account of the liner’s service during the war against Pacifica. She read for about a half hour and then directed the room to turn out the lights.

They dimmed and went off. A female voice asked whether she wanted anything else.

Kim thought it over and gave her instructions.

She lay back, stared into the darkness, and thought about what Tripley had said. End of the Empire . Truth was, people had probably always been saying things like that. People always believe they live in a crumbling world.

The Star Queen’s flight deck materialized around her.

“ Captain, we have company. ” Cyrus Klein’s voice was steady.

The situation flashed onscreen. Eight blips moving toward them, intercept course, off the port quarter.

Kim settled into the command chair. “ Can you identify them, Mr. Klein? ”

“ Just a moment, Captain. ” His eyes narrowed as he waited for the returns to clear.

“ Assume the worst, ” she said. “ Aheadfull. Collision stations. Shields up. Where’s our escort? ”

In the morning Kim ate breakfast with Cole, thanked him for his hospitality, checked her bag through to Terminal City, and caught the shuttle to Sky Harbor.

Interstellar maintained its operations division in the lower hangars on the Plum Deck, so called because of the color of the walls. Kim showed up at the service desk and asked if she could speak with Walter Gaerhard. She gave her name and sat down to wait. A few minutes later a muscular man with skin the color of black ivory opened the door and looked in. “Dr. Brandywine?” he asked.

“Mr. Gaerhard.”

He smiled and offered his hand. “You wanted to see me?”

“For a few minutes.”

“I’m not buying anything.”