Jack McDevitt - Infinity Beach

“Do you think he did anything wrong?”

“Look, Kim—” Her teeth bit down on the name. “Markis wasn’t perfect by any means. He had a short temper, and he wasn’t very tactful, and sometimes he forgot he had a daughter. But he was essentially a decent man, and I know he wouldn’t have been mixed up in anything ugly.”

“Did you ever see the inside of the villa?”

“The one in the valley? Sure.”

“Were you inside it at any time after the Mount Hope explosion?”

“Yes,” she said. “I visited my father from time to time. I lived there while I was growing up. When I came of age, my parents let the marriage lapse. But I went back when I could.”

“May I ask when that was?”

“I left the villa in 569. After that I visited occasionally, once or twice a year.”

“Did you happen to notice whether there was a mural in the den?”

“In the den ? No, not that I recall.”

“Would you have seen it if there had been?”

“Of course. Listen, what’s this about?”

“There’s a mural there now.”

“So what?”

“The woman in it is my sister.”

“Oh.” She gazed briefly into the sun. “Well. It’s hard for me to see what inference can be drawn from that.”

“Dr. Kane, my understanding is that your father sealed off part of the house after the last Hunter mission. Did you know anything about that?”

“Part of the house?”

“The den.”

“That was his private space. There was nothing unusual about that.”

“Did you have access?”

Kim could see her considering her answer. “No,” she said at last. “Not in the later years. He kept it locked.”

“Did he say why?”

“No. I really didn’t concern myself with it. And I don’t see what business any of this is of yours anyway.”

Kim nodded. “Thank you,” she said.

“Now if you don’t mind—”

“I’m sorry,” said Kim. “Listen, I know you don’t approve of me very much.”

Tora remained silent.

“For what it’s worth, I admire your father.”

“Thanks.”

“I don’t think you need fear for his reputation.”

Tora took a deep breath and turned away.

Kim watched her walk. She was reasonably sure she believed what she had just said.

She had an afternoon engagement next day at the Mariners’ Club, which had nothing whatever to do with boating, but was rather a group of older citizens. The name referred to the members’ view of themselves as persons who had sailed through life, and who had now arrived at safe harbor, and who planned on enjoying the time they had left.

The club seal, displayed on a banner, depicted an anchor and five stars, one for each of the club’s guiding principles, and its motto Keep the Wind at Your Back . Kim had taken time to read the guiding principles and she wove them into her remarks. They were mundane feelgood truisms, like Always walk in the surf , and The only real failure is failing to try .

The Institute is a lot like the Mariners, she told them. “It’s about stretching horizons and splashing around in the cosmos. And we don’t always succeed on the first try. Life is like that. Science is like that. Like the Mariners, we’re not afraid to fail, and in fact that’s the way we learn.”

As usual, she played her audience well and when she was finished she got an enthusiastic ovation. The emcee thanked her heartily for coming, a number of individuals lingered to ask questions or deliver compliments, one tried to ask her out, and the organization’s president took her aside: 50 percent of the proceeds from the Mariners’ spring fund drive, he explained, were customarily donated to a worthy organization, usually an educational institution. He wanted her to know that he had been impressed by her presentation, that the other board members shared his feeling, and that the Institute could expect to be the recipient of this year’s gift.

It would be no small amount, she knew, and she was delighted to carry this piece of good news back to the Institute.

Matt was waiting. Kim knew it wasn’t good news by the general mood in the office. Something had happened. She suspected her coworkers didn’t know the details, but they felt the boss’s tension.

“You wanted to see me?” she asked, standing in his doorway.

He’d been talking to the AI, something about anticipated cost-benefits, and they continued the conversation while he waved her in. He managed not to look at her while doing so, but his voice took on a cooler note. When he’d finished he turned, shook his head in a gesture that suggested he lived in a universe that was out to get him, signaled for her to close the door, and without a word started the VR.

Kim sat down as an image of Ben Tripley took shape.

“This was received about an hour ago,” Matt said.

Tripley was seated on the edge of his desk. He looked unhappy. “Phil,” he said, apparently speaking to Philip Agostino, the director, “I asked you to request Dr. Brandywine to stop involving herself in my affairs. She has now caused a police interrogation, and has unfairly called the character of my father into question.” Over Tripley’s shoulder, Kim could see the forward section of the Valiant . “I have to inform you that I am reevaluating my support for the Institute, as your organization seems to have too much free time on its hands, and a propensity for chasing down discredited rumors. Be advised that if any damage comes to either my property or my reputation as a result of this incident, I will regrettably have no choice but to seek legal redress.”

It blinked off.

“Want to see it again?” Matt asked.

“Yes,” she said. “But kill the sound.”

He stared at her, taken off guard, waiting for her to cancel the request. When she didn’t he reran it. She went over to the desk where she could stop it at the point she wanted.

“The director has instructed me,” Matt said angrily, “to ask for your resignation.”

“Tripley’s a crank,” she said.

“He’s an important crank, Kim.”

She froze the image, Tripley leaning forward, mouth open, index finger jabbed in their general direction. “Matt,” she said, “look at this.” She tried to adjust the image so they’d get more of the Valiant , but it was already full frame.

“Yeah. Looks like a bookend. So what?”

“It’s a model starship.”

He shrugged. “And—?”

“Matt, I’m pretty sure the Hunterdid have an encounter with a celestial.”

“Kim—”

“I can’t prove it, but I’d bet on it.” She pointed at the Valiant . “And this is what it looked like.”

“The model.”

“Yes. Look, I know it sounds goofy but I’m almost positive it’s so.”

“If it’s so, why is Tripley keeping it quiet?”

“I don’t think he knows anything about it. Not about the mission. Not about the model. I think his father had it made in one of the local tech shops immediately after he got back. After the explosion, Ben’s grandmother found it at the villa, thought it was only a toy and gave it to him.”

Matt looked as if his shoes were too tight. “What evidence do you have?”

She told him about the fraudulent log and showed him the pictures of Kane’s submerged wall. She said nothing about the vision in the passageway.

“How do you know the log is fraudulent?”

“We had it analyzed.”

“By whom?”

“By experts.”

“You don’t want to tell me.”

“Not really.”

He stopped to catch his breath. “Kim, I’m sorry. You’re a valuable member of the organization and I’d have preferred not to lose you, but you don’t really give me any choice. I want you to go back to your office and write out your resignation. Make it effective thirty days from now. That way I can give you a month’s pay. But don’t come back.” He stared at her across the top of his desk. “You know I’d change this if I could, but I warned you, damn it. I did warn you this was going to happen.”