Seeker

EIGHTEEN

Modern technology has made time travel possible. Not in the classic style, of course. Bouncing back and forth through the centuries appears to be forever beyond reach. We cannot go back to inform Caesar that it would be a good idea to stay out of the forum during March. But we can return to his world, and listen to his thoughts, and hear his heart beat.

- Jasmine Kalanna,

Voyages, 1365 You wander through something like the Seeker and you think about the federations and governments that have lived and died while that ship and its silent passengers moved along its solitary orbit. There had been dark ages and commercial revolutions and environmental disasters. Religions had been born, prospered, and vanished.

There’d been wars, dictators, pogroms, rebellions, disasters. We’d seen golden ages, periods of extended prosperity, social and artistic triumphs. The great men and women had come and gone, as had the monsters, the visionaries, the rebels, and the artists. The sciences had advanced and retreated, Brooking had made his celebrated effort to reach M4 (and been lucky to come home alive). Trillions of human beings had been born and lived out their lives. More than half of recorded history had passed.

“You ever been to an older site?” I asked Alex.

“On the ground, yes,” he said. “But not anything like this.” We were in one of the dining rooms. The bulkheads were gray and cold in the light from our lamps. On one, near the door, there was a barely discernible stain. Maybe caused long ago by leaking water. Maybe by spilled coffee. (Did they have coffee in those days?) It had the effect of reminding us that people had actually come into this room and talked, and munched on sandwiches. Drunk cold beer. I wondered whether Harry Williams had ever sat at one of the tables.

We took back another container of artifacts, our fourth. Among other things it contained a white pullover shirt and a jacket. The ship’s emblem was emblazoned on the right-hand breast pocket of the shirt, and a silhouette of the Seeker had been embroidered on the back of the jacket. Both were in remarkably good condition. Stiff as boards, but when we got them to the Belle Marie, they’d flex out.

We took inventory and stored everything in the common room. Despite our success, Alex remained in a dark mood. He’d made the discovery of his career, of anybody’s career, but he showed no sign of self-satisfaction. “It’s not really our discovery, Chase,” he said. “The Wescotts found it.”

That wasn’t the issue, of course. But I played the game with him. “Columbus wasn’t the first guy to discover America, either,” I said. “But he was smart enough to make the announcement, so he gets the credit. All of it.”

“Public relations,” Alex said.

What was the difference?

He was staring at the bulkhead. “I think we need to talk to Harry again.”

“Why?” I asked. “What do you expect to find out? He doesn’t know any more about that”-I looked toward the Seeker -“than we do.”

“I know. But I want to talk to him anyhow.”

Belle complied, and Harry Williams appeared, seated in a lush armchair. “Hello,” he said, cheerfully. “Good to see you folks. Where are we now? Another oddball world?”

Before anybody answered, he noticed the Seeker through the bridge portals, and his eyes hardened. “What happened?” he demanded.

“The engines exploded,” Alex told him. “That’s all we know.”

Harry went over to the viewport and stared out. He looked scared.

“It appears they were carrying a full load,” Alex continued. “We think most of the passengers were kids.”

“When did it happen?”

“We don’t know that either,” Alex said. “We don’t know any more now than you do.”

“What about the colony?”

“We haven’t even figured out where the colony was.”

His voice caught. “You found the Seeker, but you don’t know where the colony was?

How’s that possible?”

“The ship is adrift in a system that has nothing approximating the kind of world you’d have needed. We don’t have a clue why it’s here or where it came from.”

“How hard can it be?” he demanded. “Just look for a class-K.”

“You’re not listening, Harry. There is no class-K in this system.”

Harry shook his head. Can’t be. “Where are we now?” he asked.

I told him. Tinicum 2116. Same as last time.

“Do you know where the colony was established?” Alex asked. I could hear growing impatience in his voice.

“No. I’ve told you, I’m only a composite.”

“I don’t mean you, the avatar. I mean you, Harry Williams. When the first flight left Earth, taking the colonists out to wherever the hell it was, did Williams know the destination?”

“No.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. Not in the sense you’re asking. I couldn’t have told anyone where it was. I’d been there. I knew what the world looked like. But I don’t know anything about star travel.”

“You just knew it was out there, somewhere.”

“Yes. There was no need for me to have specifics beyond that. They were irrelevant.”

In spite of everything he managed a smile. “Tell me something was fifteen degrees west of Antares, and I would have no idea what you were talking about.”

“All right. Let’s try it this way. Who originally planned the details for the flights to Margolia?”

“Clement Estaban.”

The name meant nothing to me, but Alex nodded. “The man who walked away,” he said.

“Yes. At the last minute, he changed his mind. He wasn’t the only one.”

“How did that come about?”

“Estaban was an engineer. Made some of the early exploratory flights. And he found a summer world.”

“Was he the first to suggest the idea of a colony?”

“No. I don’t think so. To be honest, I don’t remember who first suggested it. But-”

He was still having trouble with his voice. “I hope they’re okay.” He spoke as if the original colonists might still be alive somewhere.

“Harry,” said Alex, “what were the long-range plans for the Seeker and the Bremerhaven?”

“You mean after they delivered the colonists?”

“Yes.”

“Simple enough. After the third voyage, the two ships were to remain with the colony.

They were going to be put in orbit. Kept accessible in case we needed them.”

“Okay. That means you intended to maintain them. But did you actually have the people to do it? And the equipment?”

“Yes. We had both. We sent an orbital dock out with the colony. With all the parts and equipment we would need for the foreseeable future. And we had a few engineers. Not specialists in that kind of work, but willing to learn. But-”

“-But what?”

“I don’t think we were that concerned about the ships. We didn’t seriously expect to use them again. Our sense of the situation was that we were going to be a long time getting the colony up and running. Years. Maybe decades. We weren’t much interested in maintaining an interstellar capacity. There was no need for it.”

“Okay.”

“We were going to keep the ships so we didn’t lose the technology. So we’d be able to manufacture our own, when the time came.”

“Suppose the colony got into trouble? There was no long-range communication. You couldn’t call for help.”

“What kind of trouble could we have gotten into?”

“Plague,” I suggested.

“We were going to be an off-world life-form. None of the local bugs could have touched us.”

“How could you possibly be sure?” demanded Alex. “In the beginning of the interstellar age, the notion that disease could only affect life-forms from its own biosystem was only theory.”

“We talked to the top people. They said it wasn’t possible.”

“They were wrong, Harry. There’ve been some incidents.”

He made a noise in his throat. His eyes were filled with pain. And I know. It was only an avatar. Not real. But you should have been there. “Belle,” I said, “can you cut the emotional levels? We need to be able to talk to him.”

“Sorry, Chase,” she said. “If I make adjustments in the personality, I cannot vouch for the accuracy of the model.”

“It’s okay,” said Alex. “Harry, you put, what, five thousand people out in the middle of nowhere. How could you be sure something wouldn’t go wrong?”

“We were very careful. We knew the place we were going to. I assure you it was safe.”

“Suppose somebody changed his mind. Wanted to go home?”

“The colony would be home.”

“Come on, Harry. You know what I’m saying.”

His eyes closed for a moment. “Actually, we knew that would happen and we made provision for it.”

“What was the provision?”

“Counseling. And, where necessary, a way to return.”

“How did you manage that?”

“We knew some people wouldn’t be able to adjust. We also had a couple of crew members to take care of. Who were to go home. They weren’t all members of the community, you know.”

“I assumed-”

“You assumed wrong.” The voice was angry now. “No. Abe was one of us. But that’s because of his girlfriend. It wasn’t a matter of principle with him. Two of the engineers were not staying. One on each ship. And Taja wasn’t.”

“The captain of the Seeker.”

“Yes.”

“So how were they going to get home?”

“The Boykins was going to pick them up.”

“The Boykins.”

“Yes. They were to be taken back, as well as anyone else who wanted to return.”

“So someone else did know where Margolia was?”

“Of course. The pilot’s name was Yurawicz. Marco Yurawicz.”

“Did he actually make the flight? Did anyone go back? Other than the crew members?”

“He made three flights. He returned almost four hundred people who’d changed their minds.”

“Four hundred?”

“Actually a bit more than that. We knew it would happen. We just didn’t know how many. We didn’t advertise our intention to provide an opportunity to return because we knew a lot of people would apply simply to see whether they’d like the experience.

Give us a trial run. We wanted committed people only. But we knew we had to make provision.”

“Wasn’t that too many people to expect to keep a secret?”

“They were like me, Alex. They had no idea where Margolia was. And I don’t think anybody in the government cared where it was.”

“And the crew members never told anybody?”

“As far as I know. That was the deal. They were well paid, and they were obviously as good as their word.”

“What about Taja?”

“She never did return to Earth. Must have liked the new world. Probably found someone and settled down.”

We went back next day for a final visit.

We broke into the captain’s cabin, as well as those set aside for her executive officer and the other three crew members. The cabins were well preserved. Desks and chairs, at least the ones still secured to the deck, were reasonably intact. They’d had their own washrooms. I couldn’t resist punching the pad over the shower, but of course there was no water. Outside, in the passageway, the bulkheads were stained where water lines had burst.

We found a few pictures on the bulkheads. In the compartment we guessed to be Taja’s, there was one of a man, an adolescent girl, an older woman, and a child about five. In the adjoining cabin, we saw a picture of two attractive young women.

Embossed on plastic. There were others. Family members, presumably. Kids. Even a dog. I’d brought a plastic sack in case we found anything else of interest. But Alex suggested we leave the pictures for Windy’s people. “Show up with those,” he said, “and we’ll be accused of crimes against humanity.”

The rooms had storage cabinets. We cut into a couple and found clothes. Work uniforms, for the most part. They were in poor condition. It was a pity because they carried the Seeker shoulder patch.

We also made a major discovery in the captain’s cabin. Lying in a corner of a cabinet that was otherwise empty, we came across a small black case that might once have been leather. Inside, we found a plastic packet containing twelve lenses. I showed them to Alex.

They were stuck to the interior of the case, so we couldn’t remove them. But the leather was open on both sides and, after we’d wiped them, we could see through the lenses. Alex examined them in the lamplight. Then he invited me to have a look.

Each of the lenses carried an image. But I couldn’t make out what they were.

“Any ideas?” he asked.

“Not really.”

“You know what I think?” He took the case back and aimed his wrist lamp at it.

Played it through the lenses. Blurry images appeared on the opposite bulkhead. He moved the makeshift projector forward and back. The pictures shifted but did not clear. “Holograms,” he said.

I nodded. “Could be. We can have Belle figure it out.”

He slipped the case into a cargo pocket. “Damn, I wish people would keep better records. It would have been nice if one of them had left us some handwritten comments about what was going on.” He made an irritated noise. “Can you imagine what something like that would be worth?”

Yeah. These people never think about the future.

“We have company,” said Belle.

We hurried out to the bridge, but we couldn’t see anything.

“It appears to be a VTL.”

“What’s a VTL?” asked Alex.

“In the unofficial parlance,” I said, “it’s called a tracker. It’s fully automated. They’re usually used as probes.”

“Would it have been left by somebody?”

“Left or delivered.”

“Chase, I’m trying to ask whether it was capable of making the flight out here on its own.”

“Could it have followed us through a jump? No. No such technology exists. The experts say it can’t be done.”

“Then either someone else happened to find this place, or-”

“-Someone knows about the Seeker. Belle, what’s it doing?”

“Approaching.”

“ETA?”

“About eleven minutes. Coming at high velocity, by the way. It appears to be on a collision course.”

We looked at one another and I remembered the park-building nanos. “Belle, start the engines. Alex, we have to assume it’s hostile. We better get back to the ship before it gets here.”

He didn’t need convincing. We moved quickly off the bridge and down through a half dozen passageways toward the airlock. While we scrambled as best we could through zero gravity, Belle gave me the bad news. “It’s hooked us.”

“What’s she talking about?” asked Alex.

“It has a rider beam. It just latches on, and wherever we go, it will go. It gets a free ride and it can close on us at its leisure.”

“We’ll have to jump clear.”

“Given eight hours, we could do that.”

We charged out through the airlock and onto the hull.

“It’s probably a bomb,” he said.

“Maybe. But no need. All it would have to do is give us a good bump, and it’ll be lights out.” We made the jump over to the Belle-Marie.

“ETA just over eight minutes,” said Belle.

“Let’s see what we have,” I told her, scrambling onto the bridge and looking down.

The intruder was on the monitor. It was a small package, not much more than a set of linear engines and a drive unit with a few black boxes up front. But big enough to put us out of action.

“How fast is it coming?”

“Eighteen hundred kilometers per hour.”

“Yeah.” It was approaching the Seeker from directly forward.

“Chase,” said Alex, “can’t we use the HCS on it?”

The Hazard Control System was a particle-beam unit designed to take out rocks or ice that posed a danger. “No,” I said. “There’s a safety feature to prevent its firing on ships and equipment.”

“Can’t you override that?”

“If we had some time.”

“Then what do we do? You said we can’t outrun it.”

“Watch and learn, boss. Watch and learn.” I took my seat, engaged the harness, and signaled for Alex to do the same. “Belle,” I said, “release the controls to me.”

Status lamps changed color. “Done, Chase.”

I moved the Belle-Marie forward, along the Seeker ’s hull, in the direction of the approaching tracker.

“Range two hundred ten klicks,” said Belle.

A scarlet sunburst was emblazoned on the Seeker ’s prow. I took station on a line between the intruder and the sunburst. “These things are designed to chase asteroids,”

I said. “And comets. Space junk. They aren’t made to contend with something that can move independently.”

“So we’re going to-?”

“-Sit here and wait for it. When it rolls in, we’ll step aside and it’ll plow into the Seeker.”

“Isn’t there a better way?”

“Be satisfied there is a way.”

He looked out at the ship. “I hate to do any more damage.” His face grew hard. “If I get hold of Bolton-”

“You think that’s who it is?”

“Who else?”

“I guess. If he can get us out of the way, he could claim the Seeker and everything else for himself.”

“Chase,” said Belle. “It’s rotating. Looks like a three-sixty.” I could see it on-screen.

I watched it turn until its exhaust tubes were pointed in our direction. Then the engines fired.

“Braking,” Belle said.

“The thing’s not as dumb as I’d hoped.”

“What do you mean, Chase?”

“It’s recognized the danger. So it’s slowing down.”

There was no place to hide.

Belle’s status lamps flickered. “What do you wish to do, Chase?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“At current rate of deceleration, it will be moving at twenty kilometers per hour when it arrives.”

“Give me the new ETA, Belle.”

“Ten minutes, forty-four seconds if current conditions hold.”

Well, at least we’d picked up some time. I fired the attitude thrusters and rotated the Belle-Marie. The tracker showed up in the viewport. Dead ahead. I pointed us at it, warned Alex we were moving out, and fired the main engines. We began to accelerate.

He wiped the back of his hand against his mouth. But he kept his peace.

I went to max sustainable thrust. We were both driven deep into our seats as the Seeker dropped behind.

“It has increased power to engines,” said Belle.

“It’s gone to full braking,” I told Alex. “It figures we’re trying to get past it. It’s trying to slow down enough so it can react.

“If we maintain present rate of acceleration,” Belle said, “it will be moving at one point one kilometers per second when we reach it.”

“I’ve a question,” said Alex.

“Go.”

“You’re going to turn at the last minute, right? Slip by it on one side or the other?”

“Yes.”

“What happens if that thing turns the same way you do?”

“Odds are against. But that’s the easy part. Alex, if it gets behind us, on our tail, it will make getting clear of it very difficult. I don’t know that we can outrun it.”

“Okay.”

“So we have to take it out before it climbs up our rear end. I need you to do something.”

“Name it.”

“I’m going to shut down the engines in a moment. When I do, pick out one of the cases and load it with the heaviest artifacts we have.”

“Okay.”

It wasn’t visible yet through the viewport. But the picture on the monitor was getting bigger.

“Belle,” I said, “take the helm until I come back.”

“I have it, Chase.”

I released my harness and collected a tether and a pressure suit, which I took back to the common room, where Alex was shoving artifacts into a box.

“Here,” I said, “I’ll take over. You put this on.”

“Why?” he asked, puzzled. “Am I going outside?”

“Talk later,” I said. I finished packing the case and secured it. Alex got into the suit, and I shortened the tether, cut it back to about a meter and a half, and connected it to his belt.

“Six minutes,” said Belle.

“Okay,” I told her. “Kill the gravity.”

She shut it down and I picked up the case. “Let’s go.”

I opened the airlock and he went inside. I passed the case to him.

“What do you want me to do with this?”

“We’re going to use it to save our necks.”

I closed the hatch, went back to my seat, and buckled in. There was a glow up ahead.

“That’s it,” said Belle. “Engines are still firing.”

“Okay.”

“Five minutes.”

“Alex, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Start depressurization.”

“I already have.”

“Good. Use the tether to secure yourself to one of the handgrips. We don’t want you going out the door.”

“Hang on a second.”

I watched the glow getting brighter. “Come on, Alex.”

“How’s this thing work?”

“It’s just a clip.”

“I think it’s defective.”

“Just knot it if you have to.”

“Four minutes.”

“Okay, I got it.”

“Give it a good yank. Make sure it’s secure.”

“It’s fine.”

My instincts were all telling me to hit the brakes. “All right. Air pressure will be zero in another minute.”

“Okay.”

“When it is, when the green light on the outer hatch comes on, open it.”

“All right. I know you’re not about to tell me we’re going to hit it with the artifacts.”

“How do you like breathing?”

“It’s still on collision course, Chase,” said Belle.

“Didn’t we have something else we could have thrown at it?”

“We could probably have used a sink if we’d had more time.”

“Two minutes.”

“Belle, power to the main engines. Let’s be ready to move out.”

“Pressure’s zero,” said Alex.

“It is still on collision course,” said Belle.

“One minute, twenty, Alex.” The tracker was still braking.

“Opening the outer hatch.”

The airlock was on the port side. “When you push the case out, try to be gentle. Don’t shove it.”

“Okay.”

“We want it, as much as possible, to continue ahead on our present vector.”

“Okay.”

“Just lay it out there. Let me know when it’s done.”

“All right.”

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Do it.”

I heard him grumble. Then: “Okay. It’s gone.”

“Very good. Don’t try to close the hatch. Just hang on. Turn in ten seconds.”

“Okay.”

“Nine, eight…”

The one serious risk was the one Alex had alluded to, that the tracker might guess what I was doing, or possibly even react quickly enough to change its course. But I doubted that was possible. More likely was that I’d cut it too close and would slam into the damned thing on my own.

“Four, three…”

Its engines were still firing, still trying to decelerate.

“… Two…”

I fired the port-side thrusters, turning hard to starboard. The tracker’s starboard thrusters fired as it tried to match the move, but it was too late. We soared past, and the case of artifacts caught it right on the nose at a combined velocity close to two thousand kilometers per hour.

The sky lit up behind us. Alex complained that he couldn’t believe he’d actually done that. Had to have been a better way. Now that there was time to think about it, I realized we might have filled the container with water. But I let it go.

We did a series of long- and short-range sweeps to assure ourselves nothing else was coming our way.