Coming Home

Forty-four

We picked up a chip in the operational services office that would allow us to locate KL-4561, or any of the other listed asteroids. Several hours later, we were on our way back up to Galileo. Alex was visibly excited. “You have any idea what we’re going to find?” I asked him.

“No,” he said. “Best I can come up with is that Baylee inadvertently led some pirates there, and they took off with everything. They left him with the transmitter as part of a deal that he wouldn’t say anything. And they agreed not to kill him.”

“Alex, that doesn’t make any sense. Anyway, there are no pirates.”

“I know.”

“Then why—?”

“You asked for a theory. At the moment, it’s all I have.”

The Belle-Marie was waiting when we arrived. I’d have preferred to spend a few more days in Hawaii and just enjoy the ocean and sunlight. But Alex was anxious to resolve this business, and the luaus would fall pretty flat with Baylee’s transmitter hanging over our heads.

We picked up some food supplies and climbed on board. Larissa was on the other side of the sun, so we had a long ride ahead of us. Alex went back into the passenger cabin while I turned the ship over to Belle and waited for authorization to leave. I couldn’t help being impressed by the amount of traffic handled by Galileo. It had close to four times the docking area that Skydeck possesses, and it wasn’t really enough. Plans were under way to extend its facilities. The home world still handled more commerce than any other world in the Confederacy. It did not have the largest population. In fact, four other worlds surpassed it. But it claimed with some justification to be home to the major advances in the arts and sciences. Of course, scientific advancement had for a long time consisted of little more than taking existing technologies and making them more effective. There just wasn’t much left to uncover.

“Belle-Marie, this is operations. You are clear to go.”

“Acknowledge, ops.” I warned Alex. Belle released us from the dock, and we eased out toward the exit. It looked as if sun, Moon, and Earth were lined up. I wondered if they were getting an eclipse groundside.

We made our jump and surfaced a short time later. “How’d we do?” Alex asked.

“Not bad,” I said. “We’ll need about two days to get to it. We can make it a little quicker if you want, but it’ll be an uncomfortable ride. And suck up a lot of fuel.”

“No reason to hurry, Chase,” he said. “Whatever’s there has been sitting around for more than eleven years. A few hours one way or the other won’t make much difference.”

We relaxed and read the books we’d picked up at the Maui Museum, watched some comedy shows from the library, and kept up a decent workout schedule. Sometimes we just sat and talked. The main topic of conversation was inevitably the Capella, and my reaction to seeing Gabe again. We didn’t speculate much on what we expected to find on the asteroid, which led me to suspect that, despite his denials, Alex had a theory. But he didn’t bring it up, so I let it go.

I’d thought a lot about it, of course. The only explanation that seemed feasible to me was that the whole Larissa thing was a missed communication somewhere. That Baylee had never found the Prairie House artifacts. That when he’d come across the transmitter, it had been by itself somewhere. Probably, someone had found the artifacts thousands of years ago, had sold everything off, and it simply never made the history books. Or, like so much else, everything had simply gotten lost. If Alex had asked me what I expected to find when we arrived at KL-4561, I’d have told him there’d probably be nothing.

Belle woke me on the morning of the third day. “We’re close,” she said. “KL-4561 is about two hours away.”

“Okay,” I said. “Thanks, Belle. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Do you want me to wake Alex?”

“No,” I said. “No need to.”

I got up, showered, dressed, and headed for the bridge. Alex was moving around in his cabin. Asteroid belts are not rare, but this would be my first visit to one. I’m not sure what I expected to see, but it wasn’t the progressively brighter glow in an otherwise-empty sky. “It’s the Gegenschein,” said Belle.

“What’s a gegenschein?” I asked.

“It’s sunlight backscattered from the dust in the ecliptic.”

“Okay. Where are the asteroids?”

“They’re hard to make out. They don’t reflect well.”

“Just the dust,” I said.

“The asteroids are out there.” She adjusted one of the scopes, and a dark, lumpy rock appeared on the navigation screen. “There’s one now. It’s at a range of about four thousand kilometers. Too small to see with the naked eye, of course.”

“How big is it?”

“Can’t be certain at this range, but not more than forty meters across.”

“All right. You’re keeping a watch in all directions, right? We don’t want any collisions.”

“Yes, Chase.” She was taking a tolerant tone. “But you needn’t be concerned. We could roll through it with the scanners and scopes turned off, and the chances of our hitting anything would be minimal.”

We’d arranged our arrival so that as we entered the belt, we’d be moving not only to penetrate it, but also in the same direction as the orbiting asteroids. That, of course, reduced the chance of a collision. But it did look empty out there.

Eventually, Alex showed up. “See anything?”

“Just a couple of rocks,” I said.

“It doesn’t look like what I expected.”

“I thought so, too. Belle tells me we could go through it blindfolded and be pretty safe.”

“Really? You told her that, Belle?”

“Not precisely in those words.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. Have we locked onto Larissa yet?”

“Belle?” I asked.

“Not yet. But we should see it anytime now.”

We went back into the passenger cabin and had breakfast. I’d gotten into the habit over the past few years of watching the morning news shows. I missed them when we were on the road. Alex had suggested I record a few before leaving Rimway, so I could watch them during the flight.

“They’d be old news,” I’d told him.

“They’re always old news,” he’d said. “There are no good journalists anymore.” Alex didn’t like journalists, or at least he didn’t like talk-show hosts because they’d made a living for years inviting people onto their shows to criticize him.

Alex had always pretended to ignore the tomb-robber comments, but I could see that sometimes they stung. I suspect there was an echo in there somewhere from Gabe’s efforts to win him away from the career he had chosen. Gabe, he’d explained, had never let his anger show, but his disappointment had come through. And it lingered. By the time Gabe got back, in 1440, I suspected Alex would have found a way to construct a rapprochement. He’d discovered that life without his uncle was not fulfilling. He would have denied that he craved Gabe’s blessing, but it was hard to miss.

My mom hadn’t cared much for Alex, and she’d been uneasy when I went to work for him. She’d have tried to talk me out of it except that she was too smart for that. She understood there would have been no better way to lock me into the country house than to show her disapproval. So she’d concealed it as best she could, and I saw it only on those rare occasions when the subject surfaced because of some news coverage, or my misbegotten attempts to explain how he was performing a public service. She had to work hard not to roll her eyes. There’d been only one occasion I could remember that she’d actually said something directly, and that was after the near disaster on Salud Afar. I can’t quote her, but she commented that people would always remember him as a hero, and she couldn’t deny that it was fortunate he’d been there on that occasion, but that it didn’t change the fact that he saw the world in terms of cash flow. He pretended to love historical objects, she’d said, but that passion was always tied to their sales value.

I knew Alex better than she did. He had no objection to making money from artifacts. What lay open to the world, in his view, belonged to the world. If he could recover it, he saw no moral imperative that required him to turn it over to a museum. He supplied artifacts to collectors, to people who appreciated their value. To people like Linda Talbott, who could plan a major celebration around a chair.

I’ve seen Alex’s clients take more pleasure out of an artifact than I’ve ever seen anyone display walking through a museum. And okay, I know how that sounds. But that was running through my mind on that flight, when we confronted the very real possibility that we were about to uncover a find of historic proportions. Consequently, it was no surprise that I almost fell out of my chair when Belle’s voice broke through: “All right, Chase. The asteroid’s in sight.”

She put it on the display. It was only a light in the sky, indistinguishable from the stars. But, as we watched, its position gradually changed.

“How long?” I asked.

“About forty minutes.”

The tension rose. Even Belle seemed to become nervous as we closed on it. She didn’t, for example, set up her usual countdown when something big was in the works.

We rode in near silence for about fifteen minutes before Belle spoke again. “It has lights.”

“Lights?” I asked.

Alex was seated beside me. “That’s not what I was expecting,” he said.

She increased magnification on the display. There were three or four lights on the asteroid. But we still couldn’t make out any details.

“Range 120 klicks,” said Belle.

“Are they reflections?” Alex asked.

“Maybe,” I said. “Could be some stuff left on the ground.”

As we drew closer, they brightened. And morphed into window lights. “There appears to be a structure,” said Belle.

It was a house. Like Linda’s, except that it was wider, more spread out, with rounded corners and a tower on one side. “Belle,” said Alex, “hail them for us. Find out if anyone’s there.”

Belle barely let him finish: “Alex, we have an incoming transmission.”

“Put it through.”

A woman blinked on: “Who’s out there?”

“Belle-Marie,” I said. “We were just looking around. Sorry to disturb you. Can you tell us where we are?”

She was young and attractive. Golden hair, blue eyes. And, I thought, she was happy to see company. “Don’t you know?”

Alex, who was not visible to her, frowned at me. “Well, more or less. We didn’t expect to find anybody here.”

“Actually, there’s a whole community here.”

“I didn’t know. My locator says you’re KL-4561. Is that correct?”

“Yeah. That’s us. You alone?”

“I have one passenger.”

“Okay. You’re welcome to drop by if you like. We’re always happy to have visitors. Don’t see many strangers, do we, Tori?” Someone laughed.

Alex nodded. Do it.

“Yes,” I said. “Sure. We’d enjoy stopping for a quick visit if that’s okay.”

“Beautiful. My name’s Amy. Come on in. We’ll turn the lights on for you.”

We swung around the asteroid to get a good look. “I don’t think it’s the one on the Flex cover,” I said. “But I can’t tell for sure.”

Alex was pressing his fingertips against his temples, like a guy with a burgeoning headache. “This is not going to be what we’re looking for.”

More lights came on, and the dome that enclosed the house became visible, along with a docked ship and a second docking area. We eased down into it, connected with the exit tube, and followed it into the dome. The interior had been transformed into a garden filled with hardscrabble plants that must have been able to get along without much sunlight. There were a couple of padded benches, a walkway, and a fountain though the water was apparently turned off. It was chilly but not as cold as I’d expected. As we approached the front door, it opened, and Amy appeared, alongside another woman.

“Hello,” she said. “Welcome to Amora. This is Tori, my wife.”

Alex hid whatever disappointment he might have felt. We introduced ourselves and went inside, into a lavish living room, with padded decalite furniture and a large coffee table. Thick curtains covered the windows. Amy drew them aside so we could see the garden and the stars. A piano stood on one side of the room, and pictures of mountains and rivers covered the walls.

We sat down, and a third woman came out of a doorway, carrying a tray with drinks. “This is Reika. My other wife.” All three looked pretty good.

We said hello and exchanged introductions.

“Beautiful home,” said Alex.

Reika looked around and said thanks while she and Tori served the drinks. Amy retreated into the kitchen and came back with a plate full of chocolate chip cookies. “Sorry, guys,” said Tori, “if we’d known you were coming, we’d have been better prepared.”

“You say there’s a community out here?” I said.

Amy and Reika both started to respond, but Amy got out of the way. “Oh, yes,” Reika said. “I wouldn’t exactly describe them as next-door neighbors, but we have a homeowners group, and we visit back and forth, and, when needed, we take care of one another.”

Reika was the smallest of the three, with black hair and dark eyes and, obviously, Asian blood. Tori was the tall one. Red hair fell well below her shoulders, and something in her manner suggested she was the one most likely to enjoy life in a remote place.

“So what brought you out here?” asked Amy. “Looking to move in?”

“Actually,” said Alex, “we were looking for an asteroid that used to be called Larissa. Ever hear of it?”

They looked at one another and shook their heads.

“Does this asteroid have a name?” I asked.

“Amora,” said Amy.

“Oh. Sure, I forgot. Did you guys name it?”

She smiled. “No. It’s always been Amora. As far as I know.”

I glanced at Alex. Tokata had spotted us and supplied a false lead.

He took a deep breath. “Anybody know Heli Tokata?”

They looked at one another again and shook their heads. “Who’s she?” said Tori.

“A young lady who has managed to stay a step ahead of us.” He sighed and turned his attention to the piano. “Who plays?”

Amy smiled. “I do. But Reika is the serious one.”

Alex tried his drink. “Excellent,” he said. Then to Reika: “What do you play?”

“The violin,” she said.

Tori finished her drink. “Anyone need a refill?”

Alex passed.

I opted for a second round. And Amy decided she could use a refill, too. “Reika can play anything,” she said. “But she’s a composer. She writes beautiful music, which is why we are here.”

“How do you mean?” I asked.

Reika looked uncomfortable.

“Don’t be so shy,” Amy said. “You know it’s true.”

Alex was seated behind the coffee table on a long divan. “What kind of music do you write?” he asked.

Amy got up, walked over to a cabinet, opened it, and took out a violin. She handed it to Reika. “Show them, love,” she said.

Reika looked at us as if seeking approval. Tori returned with the drinks.

“Please,” I said.

Reika had been seated with Alex on the divan. She got up, shouldered the violin, and raised the bow. Then she began to play. I’m not sure what I’d expected, but the music was incredible. It was soft and majestic and wistful. It filled the room and subsided and filled the room again. Finally, somehow, it ended in heartbreak.

“It’s called,” said Tori, “‘Tides.’”

Amy sat with a triumphant smile playing on her lips. “Tell them about it.”

“It’s two lovers standing near the ocean,” Reika said. “Listening to the sea. And one of the two is saying good-bye. It’s over. I like you, but it isn’t going to work. And she walks off, leaving the other one to try to put his life back together.”

“When Reika writes a song about shattered love,” said Tori, “the people in the audience all get hit pretty hard.”

“You’re a professional,” said Alex. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes. I used to play with the Ningata Symphony Orchestra. Tori did, too. That was how we met. I always loved composing, but I didn’t think I was any good at it. I showed Tori something I’d written. She took it and showed it to the Banner Boys. You know who they are, right? No? They’re pretty big.” We got a smile that suggested she was wondering where we’d been all our lives. “They asked if they could perform the piece. It was called ‘Seaview.’ I said okay, sure, and it became a big hit. After that, I knew there’d be no stopping me.”

“Marvelous,” I said. “You like oceans.”

“Oh, yes.”

“Yet you’re out here.”

“In the middle of the biggest ocean there is.” She put the violin down on a side table. “I’ve always loved oceans because of the sense that they go on forever. When I was a kid, I used to stand on the beach and listen to the rumble of the surf, and you couldn’t see anything all the way out to the horizon except water. There were no boundaries. No limits. I don’t know why, but every human emotion, out here, is also boundless. And there’s no reason for restraint. It’s where I get to be who I really am. Does that make any sense?”

“But,” I said, “you guys are entertainers. Entertainers hang out in public places.”

“We don’t live here, Chase. Amora is a retreat. This is where we hang out. It’s where we can be ourselves.”

“One final question,” said Alex. “You don’t have any artifacts stored here anywhere, do you?”

They looked at one another. Reika smiled. “What kind of artifacts? I have an old coat upstairs.”

“Okay,” said Alex, “thanks.”

I turned to Amy. “I assume you run the P.R. operation.”

She laughed. “Not really. In fact I’m the comedian.”