Firebird

THIRTY-SEVEN

The truth was that even sixteen ships were inadequate to the task. We knew that from the start. We would probably have no difficulty picking up the Antares, but the odds against our being able to get to it in time to rescue passengers were, unfortunately, less than encouraging. Unless, of course, the first to see it took action. Which was precisely what I expected to happen.

We started well, arriving in the target area and getting into our search formation more easily than we'd anticipated. Then we settled in to wait. Shara had estimated that we'd probably be there a week or so before anything happened. But we were only hours into the hunt when Michael called from the Caribou. “Tracking something,” he said.

“What do you have, Michael?” I asked.

“Looks like a ship.”

Alex, who'd been quietly reading, raised both hands. Hallelujah!

“Any details?” I asked.

“Too far out. But the AI tells me she can't detect any power.”

“That's not good,” said Alex. He was in the right-hand seat. “We get a position?”

“It's coming in now.”

“Belle-Marie,” said Michael, “we are in pursuit.”

“Okay,” I said. “Everybody lock down. We'll be changing course in a minute.”

There was no response from the cabin. “I think Shara's asleep in back,” said Alex.

“Okay.” I hit the buzzer for her compartment. “Up and at 'em, kid. Ship on the horizon.”

Moments later, pulling a thick woolen shirt over her head, she appeared on the bridge and gave us a thumbs-up. “Beautiful, guys,” she said.

Alex got up. “Take a seat, Shara.”

She hesitated, then sat. “Thanks.”

“You've earned it.” He disappeared back into the cabin.

“Can we get to it, Chase?” she asked.

“We'll try,” I said.

The sighting had taken place behind us. We were going to have to go through contortions to manage this. Alex muttered something under his breath as we began a long, slow turn.

“First images are coming in,” said Belle. She put them on-screen.

It was hard to make anything out, other than that the object was a dark, spade-shaped vehicle. “I don't think this is what we're looking for,” said Alex.

Shara leaned forward, as if it might give her a better perspective on the screen. “Why?”

I pointed to the spade, whose aspect was changing as we watched. “It's tumbling,” I said. “And Michael says it has no power.”

“We're getting more from the Caribou.” Belle paused. “Whatever that is, it's on the wrong course.”

“How far off is it?” asked Alex.

“Not a lot. But considering how far it's come, if it were the Antares, even a slight variation would have taken it out of range.”

The image grew clearer. I could make out pulse cannons. “Warship,” I said. A tangle of equipment and wiring protruded through a hole in the underside and had wrapped around the hull.

“It's a Mute Wasp,” said Michael. “A light cruiser. Looks as if somebody got a direct hit on it.”

“Belle,” said Alex, “what era is it from?”

“Wasps haven't been used for two hundred years,” she said. “Since the Resistance.”

“Mark the location,” said Alex. “We'll let them know.”

Shara was shaking her head.

“What?” I said.

“I was just wondering what the odds were of our stumbling across another ship out here.”

We regrouped and resumed the search. The discovery whetted everybody's appetite. Conversation among the ships intensified. There seemed to be more of a sense that the target vehicle would show up, and when it did, one of us would run it down. Cal Bickley arranged a pool. Everybody kicked in, and the ship that first located the Antares would get the payoff.

Alex played chess with Dot, while Jon and Linda talked about how it would feel to set foot inside a seven-thousand-year-old ship. Shara discovered she and Melissa Garber had both grown up in the Crystopolis area, and both had memories of the city's celebrated Science Museum. It had inspired Shara's career, while Melissa recalled visiting the place when she was a girl to watch the exhibits and especially to ride the virtual starship.

The first day passed without further incident. The Mute vehicle dropped off the scopes. And one by one, we retired for the night. Alex stayed with me awhile, but eventually he went back to his cabin, and I was alone on the bridge.

There was no need for anybody to stay awake. If anything happened, Belle would sound the alarm. I'm not sure why, but at night I tend to sleep better up front than I do in my cabin. I don't usually give in to the urge because it leaves me a bit stiff in the morning, but on that first night in the target area, I simply never got around to leaving the bridge. It wasn't exactly a decision. I just didn't feel like moving after Alex had gone, so I lowered the back of the chair a few degrees, turned on some soft music, and closed my eyes.

I like symphonies. Beethoven, Kurtzweil, Brachter, Yao Kee. It doesn't matter. Give me the soothing rhythm of the music and put some stars in the wraparound, and I'm ready to go.

I drifted off. I'd been out about three hours when Belle's voice woke me. “Chase, the McCandless has something.” Dot's ship.