Starhawk

Chapter 32

TRANSMISSIONS FROM QUINN and his people continued to come in, sometimes as cool analyses, sometimes in frustrated bursts. Priscilla studied their faces, weary, scared, angry, lost, knowing that when these images originated, relief was still several days away.

It was easy enough to see that they felt a need to talk with the outside world, to reassure themselves that they weren’t alone. They ran out of water the day after they exhausted the food supply. But there was plenty of ice on the ground. They debated whether it was safe. The consensus was that it was unlikely any local microbe would be capable of doing damage to them. “We should be all right since we’re not part of the biosystem,” Quinn said. They boiled the water nonetheless, and of course still couldn’t be sure. But they knew what the likely outcome would be if they didn’t do something.

“Hang on,” Frank told them while they watched the images. “The Grosvenor is coming.”

Yes indeed. On their way.

Priscilla would eventually look back on the experience as a time when she might easily have taken to drinking. The media beat the drums and posted countdowns. Two days until the Grosvenor could be expected to surface insystem. One day. And then, finally, they were there.

But it became necessary to explain again that the ship was still almost three days away from the Teegarden world.

Patricia showed up on Jack Kelly’s show. “We try to be there when we’re needed,” she told the host.

Kelly looked skeptical. “But they’ve been out there with no food for, what, five or six days? And your guy is just now getting into the system. Why’d it take so long?”

She smiled pleasantly, as if Kelly just didn’t understand reality. “It’s a long way to Teegarden’s Star. Twelve light-years, and I know twelve anythings doesn’t sound like much. But it’s an enormous distance. Jack, you have a son who’s what, about eleven?”

“Jerry? He’s ten, Patricia.”

“Okay. If, after you went home tonight, you were looking at that star through a telescope and it exploded, you wouldn’t see anything different. In fact, he’d be out of college before you’d see the blast.” Her voice softened. “The men and women who do the exploring, Jack, who carry out the missions, have a lot of courage. And they know how risky it is. How far they are from help. As I’ve said, we do everything possible. But there are limits to what we can do.”

* * *

THE GROSVENOR WAS due to arrive at the shelter Wednesday, January 27, six days after the shelter ran out of food. Unfortunately, there was no way for anyone to know for certain it had arrived because of the delay in transmissions.

On that day, however, while the media tracked a virtual rescue they hoped was taking place, Priscilla got a call from Michelle Worth. Her defenses immediately went up.

Michelle smiled at her out of the display. “You look happy,” she said. “It must feel good to know the rescue mission’s almost done.”

“I hope so,” said Priscilla. “Where are you?”

“Durham, North Carolina.”

“That your home?”

“It is now. The studio’s located here. And you’ve an open invitation to visit next time you’re in the area.”

“Thanks, Michelle. What can I do for you?”

“I’d like to do an interview.”

“Now?”

“If you don’t mind. The equipment’s all set.”

Priscilla hesitated. “I’m not sure what I can tell you that you don’t already know.”

“Why don’t you let me worry about that? Is it okay with you if we get started?”

“I’m kind of busy, Michelle.”

“This won’t take long. Or, if you like, I can get back to you when you’re free.”

No easy way out. “Well,” she said. “Let’s do it now. But I’d like to keep it short, okay?”

“Absolutely.”

“Is this going to be live?” She didn’t know why she asked the question. It wouldn’t make any difference whether it was live or not.

“No,” she said. “We were hoping to run it in about an hour.”

“Okay.”

“Thanks, Priscilla. Just look directly into the screen. Yes, that’s it. That’s fine. If you’re ready, we’ll start.”

“All right.”

“Priscilla, welcome to the show. I wanted to ask you about the people stranded at Teegarden. Everybody knows it takes days to pass messages from one star system to another. You tried to save time by going to the rescue as soon as you got word of the problem out there. But the bureaucrats stopped you. I wonder if you wanted to comment on that?”

“The bureaucrats stopped me?”

She laughed. “You must be a bit frustrated, aren’t you? I mean, the assumption is that the Grosvenor got there today, or will get there before the day’s over. Or maybe tomorrow or Friday. But you could have been there two days ago.”

“Maybe,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

Priscilla hesitated. She didn’t want to admit that the Baumbachner would have blown up if she’d tried to make the jump with it. Of course maybe Michelle already knew that. “They didn’t want me taking the ship because it wasn’t equipped for interstellar travel. I didn’t know that. My boss saved me a lot of wasted time.”

“You’re a pilot, aren’t you? How could you not know it couldn’t go interstellar?”

“If your viewers have twenty minutes or so, I can probably explain it.”

“Let it go, Priscilla. Was there another vehicle on the platform anywhere that could have been used to make the flight?”

“No, Michelle. Not at that time.”

“Why not? I mean, how does it happen that the World Space Authority doesn’t have a single ship that can respond to an emergency?”

“Because we’re underfunded,” she said. “If we’re going to do interstellar travel, we should get serious.”

* * *

THAT EVENING, A message came in from Easy Barnicle, confirming the ship’s arrival in the Teegarden system. “The good news,” Barnicle said, “is that we’re only six hundred thousand kilometers out. We’ve made contact with Quinn. I think they’re pretty happy to know we’re here. Should be there by Wednesday.”

Minutes later, they had a transmission from Quinn: “At last,” he said. “Thank God.”

It had by then become the biggest story in the media. Barnicle and the rescue mission were all over the newscasts and the talk shows. Relatives of the stranded scientists cried openly during interviews, the Gold Party’s hopeful nominees and the president all made it a point to congratulate Captain Barnicle. Senator Belmar and Governor McGruder both assured the voters that, if they were elected, they would, in McGruder’s words, “take steps” to reduce the possibility that anyone would ever have to go through this again. McGruder did not elaborate, but Belmar promised to provide “faster vehicles” to the rescue service. He did not seem to be aware there was no rescue service or that, if the physicists had it right, interstellar travel through Barber space imposed a speed limit.

The president assured everyone he was “looking into it.”

It was a big moment for the Authority, and for the civilized world. And it got even bigger when, on Friday, everyone was watching pictures of the Grosvenor making rendezvous with the Proxmire, taking off supplies, then, two hours later, its lander coming to rest beside the double-dome module that had protected the ground team for the better part of two weeks. Priscilla watched with tears in her eyes as Quinn and his people, in Flickinger gear, stumbled out to the vehicle and helped carry food and water back to their quarters. Inside the shelter, Barnicle was greeted with a level of energy one would never have expected from the half-starved occupants.

Priscilla was sitting in the Cockpit with eight or nine people from Operations and the admin offices. Somebody started applauding, and they all picked it up. Then they refilled their glasses and drank a toast to everyone involved.

* * *

IN THE MORNING, Frank wandered through the Authority admin area, which would normally have been empty since it was a Saturday. But everyone was there, shaking hands, accepting and giving congratulations for a job well done. Willard Falkin, the new CEO of Kosmik, Inc., which owned the Grosvenor, was among the many passing and accepting compliments.

Later in the day, they received another transmission. Quinn and the other members of the scientific team were still inside the module. But they looked good. Music was playing, they were talking and laughing. Crisis averted. A tech from the Grosvenor had restored power to their lander. Easy Barnicle, with Gustav on one side and Martha on the other, waved at the imager. “We’ll be leaving,” Quinn said, “in a few minutes.”

Martha leaned over and kissed Captain Barnicle.

* * *

LIBRARY ENTRY

In other breaking news, Cameron Richards separated from his longtime girlfriend, Taia Blanchard.

—Western Broadcasting, January 30, 2196