Ben Bova - Titan

“With the money we make from selling water,” she concluded, “we’ll be able to lift the zero-growth limit and expand our habitat, even build new ones when we have to. And we can do it without interfering with the nanobugs in the rings.”

“How do you know there aren’t nanomachines in the comets?” a man shouted. “Or living creatures?”

Tavalera knew that Holly was prepared for that one.

With an easy smile, she replied, “Astrobiologists have been studying comets for pretty near a century now. They’ve found organic chemicals in them, but no living organisms. And no nanomachines.”

“Yeah, but still—”

“If a comet bears life—or alien machines—we’ll leave it alone. There’s plenty of other comets to pick from.”

The questions slowly turned from hostile to friendly. Holly’s winning them over, Tavalera told himself. She’s doing it. She’s showing them how to get rich without hurting the rings.

For more than an hour the people in the audience fired questions at both candidates. Tavalera realized that more and more of the questions were addressed to Holly, fewer to Eberly.

When Wilmot finally called a halt and asked for final statements, the crowd got to its feet and applauded Holly. Eberly hung back like a wounded wolf, staring unbelievingly at what was happening. Negroponte charged forward toward the stage, followed by a dozen other women. They surged up onto the stage and lifted Holly onto their shoulders, then paraded her around the auditorium as everyone whooped and cheered while Wilmot and Eberly stood on the stage dumbfounded.

She’s done it, Tavalera told himself. She’s gonna win tomorrow’s election. She’ll never come back to Earth with me.

Extraordinary. This lonely outpost at the edge of human civilization has become the center of the scientific world’s attention. Hordes of scientists are traveling all the way out here to examine the alien nanodevices that Wunderly and Negroponte discovered. The two women are in line for a Nobel Prize, and politicians on Earth and the Moon have been forced to admit that there has been an alien presence in the solar system. How long ago the extraterrestrials were here, whether or not they’re coming back, whether or not they are still here observing us—no one knows. The politicians and the media pundits are all in a lather over it.

I must admit that the question is fascinating, even a bit frightening. Who are they? What are their intentions toward us?

I’m not sure that I want to find out.

The irony is, of course, that Dr. Urbain died just before achieving the success that he had worked so hard for. In a sense, his Titan Alpha rover killed him. His widow has already left for Earth, where Urbain will at last receive the recognition and honors that had eluded him while he was alive.

On a much more local issue, Holly Lane won a stunning upset victory over Malcolm Eberly in the election. Her proposal to mine comets for their water turned the tables on Eberly completely Of course, her championing of the women’s right to have babies was a major factor in her rather impressive rout of Eberly.

So Holly is being installed as our chief administrator and Eberly is out in the cold. At last. Can’t say I’m disappointed by that. Never liked the man. I wonder what he’ll try to do now that he’s out of power?

Holly and Tavalera had to push against an incoming tide of three dozen scientists surging into the reception area from the fusion torch ship docked to the habitat’s main airlock. The arriving men and women looked eager, thrilled to be at Goddard after a six-week trip from Earth. Carrying a single travel bag, Tavalera looked gloomier than usual, downright depressed. Holly, due to be installed as the habitat’s new chief administrator later in the afternoon, seemed almost as sad.

The scientists rushed on past them, chattering excitedly with one another. Holly and Tavalera made their way to the airlock hatch, where a lone officer from the arriving torch ship stood in royal blue coveralls, a palmcomp in hand.

“So you’re really going?” Holly asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tavalera smiled wistfully. “You’re really staying?”

“I’ve got to,” she said, blinking at the tears forming in her eyes.

“Me too,” he replied. “I’ve got to go back home, Holly. I’d hate myself if I didn’t. I’d end up hating you for keeping me here.”

“I guess.”

His eyes were glistening, too. “I love you, Holly.”

She put her hands on his shoulders and rested her head against his chest. “I love you too, Raoul.”

“I’ll come back,” he said, folding his free arm around her. “I just hafta see Earth again, my family, my old friends. Then I’ll come back to you.”

“Just let me know when and I’ll hire a ship to bring you.” She looked up at him, tried to smile. “I’m a twirling VIP now … or I will be in a few hours.”

The ship’s officer coughed politely. “Our turnaround time is very tight, I’m afraid. You’ll have to board if we’re going to make rendezvous with the tanker they’ve laid on for us at Jupiter.”

Tavalera nodded. “I know something about tankers,” he said mildly.

Holly clutched at him, kissed him longingly. He held her just as tightly, but then broke the embrace.

“I … I’ll be back,” he promised, hefting his travel bag.

“I’ll be here,” she said.

He turned abruptly and walked swiftly past the officer to duck through the airlock hatch and disappear from her view.

Trying to fight down the feeling that she’d never see him again, Holly went slowly back through the now-empty reception area, her head low, her spirits even lower.

“Uh … Ms. Chief Administrator?”

She looked up and saw Ilya Timoshenko standing at the end of the short passageway that opened into the habitat proper. He was dressed in slacks and collarless jacket, his shirt buttoned to the neck.

“Mr. Timoshenko,” she said, surprised to see him.

“Ilya, please to call me Ilya.”

“Ilya. And you should call me Holly. Besides, I’m not chief administrator yet. Not for another—” she glanced at her wrist “—five hours.”

Timoshenko’s gray eyes sparkled. “Even so, we’re going to be working together for the next year. Maybe more, no?”

“Maybe,” Holly said, thinking, Or maybe I’ll go to Earth when my term in office is finished.

Timoshenko looked slightly flustered, almost embarrassed. “I know you’ll be surrounded with friends and well-wishers at the ceremony, so I came out here to see you before all that.”

“Is there something in particular … ?”

“No, nothing special. I just want to offer you my congratulations and assure you that the maintenance department will keep this bucket in tip-top shape for you.”

“For all the people,” Holly said.

“Yes, for everybody. Now that Eberly’s out of office, I can promise that with my whole heart.”

Despite herself, Holly grinned at him. “You don’t like Malcolm?”

Grinning back at her, Timoshenko answered, “I don’t like most people, but him I like least of all.”

Holly actually laughed. “Well, I hope you grow to like me, at least a little bit.” She started toward the hatch at the end of the passageway.

“I think I already do,” said Timoshenko. And he stepped quickly in front of her to tap out the code on the hatch’s keypad. The heavy hatch sighed open a crack.

“Um … would it be all right if I asked you for a favor?” he said, his back to her.

“A favor?”