Джек Макдевитт - Odyssey

She opened a window and looked out at the sky. She debated calling Tor, but he had an exhibition in the morning. Better to let him sleep. So she went back to the sofa and lay in the dark, listening to the hum of insects, wondering why she insisted on putting herself through this. Maybe, when it was over, it would be time to move on.

She dozed off. But it was a fitful rest, and she was awake again as the sky began to brighten. Time to get some air. She showered, toweled off, and paused momentarily in front of her mirror. Still look good, babe. She had a son on the way, but no one would have known.

She selected fresh clothes from her wardrobe. It was one of her guiding principles that she never allowed people to see she was under pressure. Stay relaxed. Dress well. Always look as if the situation is under control.

She was on her way out the door when Peter called again. “The al-Jahani has made its exit. Approximately four minutes farther down the track. Still no signal.” It would coordinate a search pattern with the Wildside. Meantime, she would have to get more ships out there.

The area was simply too big. Even if they scrambled everything they had, finding the Heffernan was not going to be easy.

She had no appetite but decided to go to breakfast anyhow. She needed to get some people around her. The only nearby place open that early, though, was Stud’s. Not her favorite. She crossed the Academy grounds, strolled past the Retreat, dodged traffic on the Parkway, and went into the Academy Mall. It always irritated her that the hucksters had stolen their name.

She walked into Stud’s. There were maybe a dozen people inside, a couple from the Academy, most from local businesses. She ordered a bagel and coffee and smeared a ton of jelly on the bagel.

Living dangerously.

BACK IN HER office, Marla greeted her with a cheery good morning, as if Hutch hadn’t been there all night. Sometimes Marla didn’t seem to function properly. “Today is Tuesday, February 17,” she said. “Staff meeting is scheduled at eight thirty.”

“Thanks, Marla.”

“You have several calls. Priority is low, so I did not think you’d want to be disturbed.”

“Queue them. I’ll get to them later this morning.”

She sat down in the armchair and let her head drift back. Within minutes she was asleep.

ASQUITH, WHO — LIKE pretty much everyone else — didn’t understand the distances involved, assured her everything was going to be okay. “They’ll find them,” he said. He was convincing because he believed it. The commissioner did not think in terms of light-minutes or billions of kilometers. To him a flight to Capella took about four days. Four days was not a long time, ergo the distance covered couldn’t be all that far.

“Maybe. But we need more ships.”

“We can’t do that. We don’t have more ships available.”

“I can get some corporate help. We should also freeze everything we’re doing until we get this thing settled.”

“And how long do you think that might take?”

“Weeks. Maybe a month or more.”

“My God. Really?”

“Yes. Really.”

“Do they have enough food and water on board? To survive that long?”

“Yes. They have plenty of rations.”

His eyes narrowed. “Hutch, we don’t even believe they’re alive, do we?”

“We don’t know.”

“Yes or no, Hutch. Do you believe they’re still alive?”

“They may be in a place where we can’t reach them. But that’s not the point.”

“Let’s give the Wildside and the al-Jahani a little time before we scramble everybody’s schedule. Okay? Let’s just hang on a bit. We don’t want to panic.” He closed his eyes and made a noise deep in his throat. Thank God he was on-site to keep his crazy staff in check. “What else have we got?”

It was hard to think about anything else. “I’ve begun putting together what we have to do as we take the Colbys out of service. I have the recommendations on mission cutbacks and cancellations for you. I meant to get them to you yesterday, but I got sidetracked.”

He had a tendency, when you opposed him, to look at you as if you were being unreasonable. As if we’d been all through this before, and now you were starting again. “It’s not possible, Hutch. I would if I could. You know that.”

“Michael, we still need a decision on the Kira.”

“Where’s it headed?”

“Nok. Next week. It’s scheduled to carry eight passengers.”

“Hutch, we have to let it go.”

“I’m canceling it. I’m going to notify everybody today.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“I will not sign off on the flight. You want the mission, get somebody else to do it.”

His jaw muscles worked. “Who’s on the goddam thing?”

“A team from the University of Berlin and the Lisbon Field Unit. The sooner they’re informed, the less flak there’ll be.”

“Yeah. Right. You know, this is easy enough for you to do. I’m the one who takes all the heat.” He looked wounded. Betrayed. “Okay,” he said. “Do what you have to. But let them know we’ll find a way to get them out there. That it’s only temporary.”

BY LATE MORNING, the Wildside had made a second jump. Still nothing.

She put in calls to eight of the corporate entities at the station. To Nova Industries and MirrorCorp, to Thor Transport and Maracaibo, to Hawkins and MicroTech and Orion Tours and WhiteStar. The message was the same to each: Can you contribute a ship to the Heffernan search?

They could. Hawkins thought they could get one off later in the day. WhiteStar could send one by the end of the week. The others fell somewhere in between. “Okay,” she said. “Stand by. Don’t send anything out until I tell you. But be ready to go.”

Hiram Taylor called just before noon to ask whether she’d meant what she said about taking Amy to the space station. He was in a custom gray satin suit. Amy would love to go, he said, especially with her. “I’m not all that excited about the idea,” he added, “but I’m willing to go along with it. So if you really want to — ”

“I’d enjoy it,” said Hutch. “It would give me a chance to do something different.”

“What would be a good day?”

“She has to go to school; I have to work. How about Saturday?”

“Saturday will be fine.”

“I’ll pick her up at seven.”

“You’re sure it’s no trouble?”

“No. Of course not. It’ll be a pleasure to have her. I’ll take Maureen as well. Make it a family outing.”

“Hutch, thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

“You understand I’m not worried about safety. I just don’t like playing to these crazy ideas of hers.”

“You could do worse, Senator.”

“I don’t want to encourage her.”

“Of course not.” He hesitated, embarrassed. “Listen, don’t worry. She’ll be fine.” Hutch resisted the impulse to tell him he was a jerk.

“Hutch,” he said, “I’m grateful for what you’re doing, but you understand it won’t influence the way I vote on Academy funding.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Senator.”

NEXT CAME THE flight cancellations. It was early evening in western Europe. She called her contacts at the University of Berlin and at the field unit and left messages. Flight to Nok indefinitely postponed. Regret the inconvenience. We are looking at alternatives.

Another mission two weeks beyond that would have to be shut down as well. That was the Bill Jenkins, bound for the Origins Project. When she canceled that one, which she would do the next day, the howls would go all the way to the Congress.

In the middle of that, Peter called to inform her the al-Jahani had made its second jump. Also with no results.