The Precipice

LA GUAIRA

Pancho looked up, bleary-eyed, from her desktop screen. Across the room that she and Amanda were sharing, Mandy sat at her desk with virtual reality glasses and earphones covering half her face, peering intently at her own screen. “I’m goin’ for a walk,” she said, loudly enough to get through Mandy’s earphones. Amanda nodded without taking off the VR glasses. Pancho squinted at the screen, but it was nothing but a jumble of alphanumerics. Whatever Mandy was studying was displayed on her glasses, not the computer screen. Their dorm room opened directly onto the patio. Cripes, it’s almost sundown, Pancho saw as she stepped outside. The late afternoon was still tropically warm, humid, especially after the air-conditioned cool of their quarters. Pancho stretched her long arms up toward the cloud-flecked sky, trying to work out the knots in her back. Been settin’ at that stupid ol’ desk too damned long, she said to herself. Mandy can sit there and study till hell freezes over. She’s like a dogass computer, just absorbing data like a friggin’ machine.

Dan Randolph had put them to studying the fusion drive and working with the engineering team that was converting a lunar transfer buggy into the ship that would carry them out to the Belt. They saw Randolph rarely. The man was jumping all across the world like a flea on a hot griddle, hardly ever in the same place more than one night. When he was in La Guaira he drove the whole team hard, and himself hardest of all.

Peculiar place for a corporate headquarters, Pancho thought as she walked from the housing complex out past the swaying, rustling palm trees, toward the seawall. La Guaira was more suited to being a tourist resort than a major space launching center. Randolph had settled his Astro Manufacturing headquarters here years ago, partly because its location near the equator gave rockets a little extra boost from the Earth’s spin, partly because he found the government of Venezuela easier to deal with than the suits in Washington.

Strange, though. Randolph was rumored to have been in love with President Scanwell. There were whispers about their being lovers, off and on, a stormy romance that only ended when the ex-President lost her life in the big Tennessee Valley earthquake.

It all seemed so far away. Pancho followed the winding path toward the seawall, her softboots crunching on the gravel. The Sun was just about touching the horizon, turning the Caribbean reddish gold. Massive clouds were piling up, turning purple and crimson in the underlighting. With the breeze coming off the sea, making the palms bow gracefully, this was as close to a tropical paradise as she could imagine.

But the seawall reminded her of a harsher reality. It was shoulder high, an ugly reinforced concrete barrier against the encroaching waters. It had originally been painted a pastel pink, but the paint had faded in the sun, and the concrete was crumbling here and there where storm tides had pounded against it. The old beaches were all underwater now, except at the very lowest tides. The surf broke out there, long combers tumbling and frothing with a steady, ceaseless growling hiss. And still the sea was rising, a little bit more every year. “Looks pretty, doesn’t it?”

Startled, she turned to see Randolph standing there, looking glumly out to sea. He was wearing a wrinkled white shirt and dark slacks that had gone baggy from long hours of travel.

“Didn’t see you coming up the path, boss,” said Pancho. “Come to think of it, I didn’t even hear you on the gravel.”

“I walked on the grass,” Randolph said, quite seriously. “Stealth is my middle name.”

Pancho laughed.

But Randolph said gloomily, “When Greenland melts down this will all go under.”

“The whole island?”

“Every damned bit of it. Maybe some of the gantry towers will stick up above the surface. The hilltops. Not much else.”

“Cripes.”

“This used to be part of the mainland, you know. When I first brought the company here, that strait cutting us off from the hills didn’t exist. The sea level’s gone up that much in less than twenty years.”

“And it’s still goin’ up,” Pancho said.

Randolph nodded gloomily, then leaned his arms on the shoulder-high seawall and propped his chin on them.

“How’s the job going?” he asked.

“We’re workin’ at it,” she replied. “It’s a lot to learn, all this fusion stuff.” With a tired nod, he said, “Yeah, but you’ve got to know every bit of it, Pancho. It anything breaks down out there, you’ve got to be able to diagnose it and fix it.”

“We’ll have an engineer on board,” she said. “Won’t we?”

“Maybe. But whether you do or not, you’ve got to know everything there is to know about the systems.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“And you’ve got to get the new navigational technique down, too,” he added.

“Point and shoot, yeah. Kinda weird.”

With the thrust and efficiency of the fusion rocket, their spacecraft did not have to travel in an energy-conserving ellipse from Earth orbit to the Belt. Fusion-driven trajectories were almost straight lines: travel times would be days instead of months.

“It’s a lot to learn, I know,” Randolph said.

She saw the weariness in his eyes, and yet there was something else in them, something more. Hope, she thought. Or maybe just plain mulish stubbornness. He wants to make this fusion ship work. And he’s trusting me to drive it. Me and Mandy.

“We could use a weekend off,” she said. “Or even a night on the town.” The sun had sunk behind the mainland’s mountains. They could see the lights on the mainland beginning to wink on.

“Sorry, kid, no can do,” Randolph said. He started walking along the seawall. “I told you when you agreed to take this assignment, you stay here in the complex.”

“Security, yeah, I know,” Pancho said, following him. “Your own security, too,” Randolph said. “Not just the company’s. You’re very valuable now. You and Amanda are crucial to this entire operation. I don’t want you running any risks.”

Pancho thought it over. He’s trusting us with this whole operation, right enough.

Can’t blame him for being careful. Still…

She looked across the strait again at the lights of the city. Then a new thought struck her. Does he know I’m supposed to be snooping on him? Is he keeping us bottled up here so’s I can’t get in touch with Humphries? “Can I ask you somethin’?”

Randolph smiled tiredly at her in the fading light. “Sure, go right ahead.”

“I’ve heard rumbles that you were — well, that Astro’s got money problems.” Randolph hesitated a moment. Then, “Corporations always have money problems.”

“I mean, like, you’re purty close to broke.”

“Pretty close,” he admitted.

“Then why’re you sinkin’ all this money into the fusion ship?” The light was dying fast. Pancho could barely see his face. But she heard the determination in his voice.

“Two reasons, kid,” he said. “First, if it works, Astro can get first licks at the Belt. Our stock will zoom up, our profits will skyrocket, and the only money problem I’ll have is how to spend all the cash flowing in.”

Pancho said nothing, waiting for his second reason.

“And also,” Randolph went on, “opening up the Belt is crucial for the human race’s survival.”

“You really think so?”

He stopped walking and turned toward her. “We can’t take much more of this climate warming, Pancho. Millions have died already, tens of millions. But the worst is yet to come. If Greenland goes—”

“And Antarctica,” she interjected.

“And Antarctica,” he agreed. “If they melt down, civilization drowns. Billions will die, not just from the floods but from starvation and disease. We can’t support the Earth’s population now, for god’s sake! There’s famine in half the world, and it’s getting worse, not better.”

“You think the asteroids can help?”

“We need those natural resources. We have to rebuild our industrial base, rebuild our wealth.”

“In space.”

“Yep. Where we should’ve been building for the past half-century.”

Pancho made a low whistle. “That’s a big order, boss.”

“You’re damned right it is. But if we fail, the human race fails. Only a handful of people will live through this, and they’ll be thrown back to a pre-industrial level. Subsistence farming. No electricity. No machinery. No medicines.”

“The Middle Ages.”

“More like the Stone Age,” Randolph grumbled.

“That’s why you’re hangin’ everything on this flight to the Belt.”

She couldn’t see his face in the deepening darkness, but she sensed him nodding.

“Everything I’ve got,” he said flatly.

Everything he has. The enormity of it suddenly hit Pancho like an avalanche. He’s risking everything he has on this flight, his whole company, his whole life. He’s willing to gamble everything he’s worked for and built up over his lifetime on this one mission. And he’s trusting me to fly it for him. Me. The responsibility felt like the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“Lemme ask you somethin’ else,” Pancho said, her voice trembling slightly. “Why’d you pick me to make this flight? You’ve got lots of other pilots with more experience.”

Randolph chuckled softly. “More experience, sure. But they’ve got families to support. Spouses. Kids.”

I’ve got a sister, Pancho thought. But she said nothing.

“Besides,” Randolph went on, “none of them have your abilities.”

“My abilities?”

“Listen, kid, I went through every scrap of data on every pilot in Astro’s employ and quite a few who aren’t on the company’s payroll. You came out on top. You are the best we’ve got.”

Pancho felt suddenly breathless. Hell, I know I’m good, but am I really that good? “Before you ask for a raise,” Randolph said, “I’ve got to tell you that my personnel people don’t agree with me. They think you’re a flake.”

“Whattaya mean, a flake?” Pancho demanded.

“The rap on you, kid, is that you’re not serious. You like to take risks, play games.”

“Not with my flyin’.”

“Oh no? Like the time you raced Wally Stinson from Selene to the Farside site?”

“Aw, c’mon, I was only havin’ some fun,” Pancho protested. “Wally let his testosterone do his thinkin’ for him.”

“And this bet a few months ago about vacuum breathing?”

“That was just a hoot.”

He chuckled in the growing darkness, but then said, “You’re a gambler, Pancho.

That scared the hell out of the personnel gurus.”

“I won’t gamble with your fusion ship,” she said firmly.

Randolph was silent for a few heartbeats, then he said, “I know you won’t, Pancho.

That’s why I picked you to fly her.”

“What about Amanda?” she heard herself ask. “She’s better’n me, isn’t she?”

“She’s got more education, she’s more cautious. But she’s not better than you. Close, but not better. Anyway, if you go, I want you to have another woman pilot with you. Guys get funny ideas after a couple of weeks locked up in an aluminum can.”

The plan was to carry an engineer/technician and at least one geologist or planetary astronomer on the flight. The mission was designed to be more than a mere test of the fusion drive; it was supposed to bring back results. It had to. “I can handle the guys,” Pancho said.

“Yep, I’m sure you can. But why bring up the problem?”

“You don’t think Mandy’ll cause a problem?”

Randolph laughed softly in the darkness. “I see your point. She can raise temperatures when she wants to.”

“Even when she doesn’t want to.”

“I had a long talk with Amanda yesterday. She’s going to be prim and proper during the flight. No bedroom eyes. No tight uniforms. She agreed to behave herself.”

Pancho was shocked. The little sneak never said a word to me about talking with the boss.

“She’ll be strictly business. She promised.”

“I don’t know if she can help herself,” Pancho said.

“You think I should take her off the mission?”

Pancho blurted, “No, I think you should take me off it.”

“You? Why?”

Don’t do it! She raged at herself. Don’t go blabbing it out to him. He’ll fire your butt out of here like a hot rocket and then make sure nobody’l1 ever hire you again. But he trusts me. He’s hangin’ his whole world on me because he trusts me to get the job done even when his personnel office doesn’t. “Why should I take you off the mission?” Randolph insisted. Cursing herself for six kinds of a fool, Pancho said, “Martin Humphries hired me to spy on you.”

“He did, huh?” In the starlit darkness, Randolph sounded much less surprised than she thought he would. “When was this?”

“More’n six months ago,” Pancho said, barely able to get the words out. “Last time I was up at Selene.”

Randolph fell silent and resumed pacing slowly along the seawall. Pancho walked beside him, listening to the sighing of the wind, the grumble of the surf, waiting for him to explode or snarl or say something.

At last he started to laugh. Not loud, joyful laughter. Just a low, cynical snickering. “I knew the sonofabitch would try to plant snoops in my drawers, but I never figured he’d recruit you.”

“You can fire me if you want to.”

“What did he offer you?”

“Money.”

“Is that all you’re after?”

Pancho hesitated a heartbeat. “I got… family to take care of.”

“Your sister, yes, I know.”

“You know?”

“I told you, I went over every nanobit of data about you. I know about your sister.”

“Well…” Pancho had to take a breath before she could repeat, “You can fire me, I guess.” She was surprised at what an effort it was to say the words. “Why would I do that?” Randolph sounded genuinely puzzled.

“’Cause I’m supposed to be spyin’ on you.”

“That’s all right. No need to panic, kid. Go ahead and spy all you want. I knew he’d plant a few spooks into Astro. I’m glad you told me about it. I appreciate your honesty — and loyalty.”

“But-”

“No, no it’s okay,” Randolph said, his tone almost bantering now. “You go ahead and report everything you’re doing to him. I’ll even make it easier for you. I’ll transfer you and Amanda to Selene. That’s where the sonofabitch is living, isn’t it?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Good,” Randolph said. “I ought to go there myself. It’s a lot healthier there than here, that’s for sure.”

“Healthier?”

“Climate controlled. Decontaminated air. I don’t need filter plugs stuffed up my nose when I’m there.”

Before Pancho could ask why he needed filter plugs at all, Randolph grasped her by the shoulder and turned her gently to look up into the darkening sky. A half-Moon rode among the scudding clouds, the unwinking brilliant beacon light of Selene visible along its terminator between night and day. “That’s where you’re going, kid. To Selene.”

Pancho wondered if Randolph was truly pleased with her confession, or if he was exiling her to the most remote spot he could find.