The Spheres of Heaven

14: THE CREW OF THE HERO’S RETURN

The Hero’s Return was close to three hundred meters long and massed in excess of eighty thousand tons. It had been designed for “peacekeeping,” which meant that it had been fitted out from stem to stern with the most hideous weapons of war that the human mind could conceive. Nothing ought to warm better the heart of one of the solar system’s most experienced military men. Yet General Dag Korin stood in the main docking area and shook his white-haired head in disgust.

“You see how it goes,” he said. “You form some sort of halfassed union with a load of goggle-eyed sapsucker pipestem-legged aliens, and they dump their jackass craphead lily-livered ideas on you, and before you know it you’ve come to this .”

He waved his arm to take in the whole of the loading bay, forty meters across and twenty high. Flammarion, standing at the General’s side, stared around at the ribbed walls, the array of displays, and the warren of pipes and cables. Everything looked fine to him. Not only that, the Angels to his certain knowledge didn’t have eyes to goggle, and he very much doubted that they, the Tinkers, or the Pipe-Rillas had livers.

“Filthy!” General Korin ran a gloved hand along a rail, and it came away smudged with dust and grease. “Filthy, and neglected, and stinking. A typical civilian vessel. Swallow all the soft-headed pacifist nonsense that the aliens preach, and in just a few years here’s what you have. What I’d like to know is, where did good old-fashioned military discipline go, the thing that made humans great?”

Flammarion couldn’t answer. But since the Hero’s Return had been for at least ten years a civilian ship, it didn’t seem reasonable to look for it here. The weapons, except for strictly defensive shields, had been stripped out, and the human crew replaced by robots low-level to the point of imbecility. On the other hand, the ship’s computer had been upgraded to the very best that humanity could produce. This was an area where humans led the rest of the Stellar Group by a wide margin. If you’ve got it, flaunt it.

Dag Korin was glaring at Flammarion, who knew better than to offer answers or comments. He had a lot of respect for the aged general, and he realized that he was more of a convenient audience than anything else.

“And the crew that we’re getting!” Korin regarded Flammarion with something close to approval. “Now you, you’re a military man yourself. You know the value of organization and training. Did you see the description of what’s going to be arriving on board in the next few hours?”

“Yes, sir.” It would be more like the next few minutes. According to the status display, a transit vehicle to the Hero’s Return had docked three minutes ago and Flammarion could hear the locks in operation.

“The scum of the solar system,” Korin went on. He waved the manifest that he was holding. “The two arriving on this ship are a fine example. Coming from the Oort Cloud, and so far as I can tell they’ve never done one useful thing in their whole lives. See this one. ` Tarboosh Hanson. Areas of expertise: talks to animals; strongman and stuntman.’ A fat lot of use he’s going to be when we’re fighting armed aliens in the Geyser Swirl. And here’s the other one. ` Chrissie Winger. Areas of expertise: magic and deception.’ What’s that mean? They may buy this sort of nonsense out in the Oort Cloud, but not here. Now this other man coming in later today looks a bit better. He’s not military but at least he has a career. ` Daniel Casement. Areas of expertise: financial investment advice, precious stones.’ Hmm. Maybe I should deal with him myself.”

“Sir, the first two will be here any second. That’s the outer hatch cycling. What should we do?”

“Hold your water, and take your signals from me. These people have to know who they’re dealing with. First impressions are important.”

Dag Korin strode forward. He placed himself firmly, legs wide apart, in the middle of the passageway leading from the main lock to the interior of the Hero’s Return . Anyone who wished to enter the ship from the transit vessel would first have to pass by him.

The inner hatch of the lock opened. After a few seconds, a fat little animal with thick brown fur and a bulging pointed head emerged. It trotted forward and paused in front of Dag Korin. As he bent creakily forward to grab for it, the creature scurried between his legs and vanished underneath a tangle of pipes.

Korin straightened up to glare at the man who came strolling out of the lock. “Is that beast yours?”

“As much as she belongs to anybody, and as much as she’s a beast, yes.” The newcomer was very black, very broad, and very tall. His height was enhanced by the bright red fez on top of his head.

“You can’t bring a dog onto a navy ship.”

“It isn’t a navy ship.”

“A former navy ship, then. You can’t bring a dog aboard.”

“It isn’t a dog. It’s a modded ferret. Her name’s Scruffy.” The man smiled amiably at Korin. “And mine is Hanson, Tarboosh Hanson. Reporting to Chan Dalton.”

“Get that filthy animal off my ship.”

“Sorry. Can’t do that.” Tarboosh Hanson felt in the pockets of his blue jacket and produced a slip of paper. He came closer and handed it over. As the general studied it, he said, “See. Approved for accommodation aboard the Hero’s Return , Tarboosh Hanson and job-related equipment, the latter not to exceed fifty kilos in mass. Scruffy weighs a lot less than fifty, she’s as smart as I am, and for me she’s essential job-related equipment. If you’re going to talk to animals, you have to keep in practice. Anyway, I’m supposed to report to Chan Dalton. Where do I find him?”

“He hasn’t arrived yet. He’s on the next transit vehicle.”

“Good enough. I’ll wait for him on board.” Tarboosh Hanson nodded agreeably. He whistled to the ferret, who came promptly from its hiding place, and walked past Dag Korin. The General, turning and ready to explode, was diverted by something new. Another arrival had appeared from the lock and stood watching.

She was a short, trim woman in her early forties, dressed in a white sleeveless blouse, white pants, and long white boots. She had blond hair and a smooth china-doll face. Normal enough, except for the white headband that held back her long hair and hid most of her forehead. Across it, in black letters that became steadily smaller, ran the words:

You are now close enough for me to steal your wallet.

As soon as she saw that she had been noticed, the woman walked toward Dag Korin. He squinted at the headband as she approached, until when she was still two feet away she threw up her right arm in a snappy military salute. Guileless blue eyes stared up into his.

“Chrissie Winger, reporting for duty to General Korin.”

Seven decades of experience made the General’s return of salute a reflex action. His hand was not yet back to his side when hers was lifting toward him.

“Here, sir. I feel sure that you will need this.”

She was holding a slim black folder. Korin clapped his hand to the empty pocket at the back of his pants.

“That’s mine. How the devil did you do that? You were never closer to me than half a meter.”

“Professional secret.” A small card appeared from nowhere next to the black folder. “It’s my stock in trade. You can’t expect a lady to give it away.”

Kubo Flammarion, watching from a distance, expected Korin to explode again. Instead, the old General laughed and took both the wallet and the card.

“You’ve got a nerve, Chrissie Winger. I’ve always liked that in a woman. Magic and deception, eh? If we’re not allowed violence in the Geyser Swirl, maybe they’ll come in useful. I’ll make you a trade. Tell me how you managed to get your hands on my wallet two seconds after leaving the transit vessel, without ever coming near me, and I’ll guarantee you the best living quarters on this ship.”

She put a finger to her chin, considering. “Include Tarboosh Hanson in the deal, and you’re on. We’ve been together a long time and we’re kind of used to sharing quarters.”

“All right. Now tell me, how did you steal my wallet?”

“I didn’t. The Tarbush took it when you turned around and threw it to me.”

“Well damn my eyes.” Korin shook his head. “I should have known. That sort of trick was old when I was a lad. But I didn’t feel or see a thing.”

“You’re not supposed to. If you did, it wouldn’t be much of an act, would it? Now, what about these fancy quarters you promised?”

“Later. The Hero’s Return is scheduled for midnight departure to an Asteroid Belt Link entry point, and your group is still four members short. Including your team leader.” Korin pointed to the status display. It indicated that another vessel was arriving, this one from Europa via Earth. “If that doesn’t have Chan Dalton aboard, we’re in trouble. You go ahead — Captain Flammarion will show you the layout of crew quarters — and I’ll catch you later.”

“Yes, sir.” Chrissie Winger saluted again. She walked across to Flammarion, who took a couple of steps back and looked at her warily.

“You’re not going to do any of your fancy wallet-stealing stuff with me, are you?”

“Not a chance.” She beamed at him, in a way that made Flammarion feel that he was an immensely entertaining and interesting fellow. “Does a brewer give away beer? It’s as I told General Korin, I don’t do that sort of thing for free. But I wanted to impress him, so Tarb and I arranged that little stunt.”

“He likes you, you know. If he didn’t he’d have gutted you for pulling something like that.”

“Well, I like him, too — what I’ve seen of him. I expected an old fossil, but he’s not like that. There’s still plenty of firepower in him.”

“There is. And you don’t want it directed your way.” Flammarion, leading Chrissie down the ship’s main corridor, noticed an odd tightness in his jacket. He opened it as he walked and felt a bulge in his undershirt. And inside that -

He reached in and pulled out a bottle. “This is impossible. My jacket was closed, my shirt is tight at the neck.” He stopped dead and stared at the label. “Is it really beer?”

“I’m not a brewer, so I can give it away, and there are a few things I would never do. One of them is deceive a man with a gift of fake beer.”

“But how did you get it there?”

“Ah, now as to that, I am willing to deceive. Or at least, not to reveal.” Chrissie Winger had not been told where to go, and since she had not stopped walking Flammarion was now behind her; but she unhesitatingly made the turn to the unmarked corridor leading to the crew’s quarters. “I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you,” she said over her shoulder. “A girl has to have her little secrets.”

She walked confidently forward. Flammarion trailed along behind. He didn’t know quite what kind of team was assembling for this expedition, but he was sure it was unlike anything he had met before.

Fifteen minutes ago, Chan Dalton had been relaxing for the first time in ten days. It had been a desperate, sleepless dash around the solar system, but against the odds he had done everything. Chrissie Winger and Tarboosh Hanson had jumped at the idea of a new stellar expedition, almost before he could tell them about it. Apparently life in the Oort Cloud was too dull and easy. They had taken the first available inbound ship and should already be on board the Hero’s Return , waiting for him.

He had spoken with Deb Bisson two hours ago, and although she was as cold as ever she swore that she, too, would arrive before the deadline. She was bringing Tully O’Toole with her. He was shaky and feverish with Paradox withdrawal and occasionally hallucinating, but with guidance and encouragement he was somehow hanging on.

That left only Danny Casement and the Bun, and Chan had been more sure of them than anyone. Danny had enormous persuasive power, but he probably wouldn’t even need it. In the old days the Bun had been keenest of all to go to the stars. Now they would fly out from the Vulcan Nexus and complete the old team.

And then reality intruded. Danny’s message, chasing Chan around the solar system, finally caught up with him. It told of the Bun’s disappearance and his almost certain death. The Hero’s Return was looming up ahead but Chan didn’t see it. He was turned inward, looking at the collapse of his plans. Deb Bisson had promised to go along only if he had the full team. With the Bun gone, Deb would back out. Without Deb, Tully would not make it. The dominoes would fall. No Bun, no Deb, no Tully …

No team.

The transit vessel docked. The hatch opened. Chan didn’t have the energy to stand up and go through it. He sat, hands gripping the padded arms of his chair, until the robots came along and began to service the cabin around him. The gentle probing touch of one on his leg, as though asking Do I clean this? , roused him.

He stood up and passed through the first connection chamber, through the outer hatch, through the lock and through the inner hatch. He was finally in the true interior of the Hero’s Return , but he had sat so long after docking that anyone waiting for a passenger on the transit vessel would surely be gone. He glanced over to the couch at the side of the chamber, expecting to see no one. General Dag Korin lay there at full length. His eyes were closed and his mouth was open. Somehow he gave the impression of a man sleeping at attention.

Chan hesitated to wake him. On the other hand, what was Korin doing here if not waiting to see Chan? And when you had bad news to present, one time was as good as another.

Chan leaned down and shook the General’s shoulder. Korin came awake so smoothly and quickly that it was hard to believe he had been sleeping.

Frosty blue eyes fixed on Chan as the General slowly sat upright. “You’re running damn close to the deadline, Dalton. Are you sure you’ll have all your team on board by midnight?”

“I’m sure I won’t. One of them is dead.”

“You tell me that now , with just a few hours to go to departure?”

“I only found out myself a few minutes before we docked.”

“Can you operate without him?”

“If we have to. But it’s not that simple.” Chan outlined Deb Bisson’s position, and how the death of the Bun would affect her presence on the team.

“So you’ve got problems to solve.” Korin stood up. “And so do I. The two of us have to talk.”

“I don’t know that I have much to say. Not until I’ve had a chance to think about all this.”

“Understood. But if you can’t talk, you can listen. Come on. This is important.”

Korin led the way into the cavernous interior of the Hero’s Return . In the old days the cruiser had carried a military crew of nine hundred men and women. The ship’s exterior with its massive armor and reinforced hull was little changed from those glory days, but once inside you wandered through a ghost ship. Your voice echoed through bare-walled compartments, your footsteps rang along empty corridors. Chan found himself reluctant to speak, while Dag Korin apparently did not want any discussion until they had privacy. The two men drifted along in silence, past dark chambers that had once housed weapons able to turn whole asteroids to slag; past engines that could drive the eighty-thousand-ton mass at anything up to seven gees; past the chamber housing a computer as sophisticated as any ever built, able to control the vessel’s sensors, make autonomous decisions, and do whatever was needed to assure the safety of ship and crew; past the deserted quarters of that crew, where almost a thousand men and women had once exercised, eaten, and slept.

Dag Korin, with the pick of the whole ship available to him, apparently preferred simplicity. He continued on, beyond the section that had once housed the captain and the senior officers, until they came to a set of smaller rooms tucked away beside the ship’s main control room. And there, at the very end of a corridor, Chan saw a tall form in a powder-blue work suit, lounging against a door painted a bilious green.

He heard Dag Korin’s surprised grunt, in the same moment as Chan recognized the blond hair and anorexic face of Elke Siry.

“I believe you already met my ward,” Korin said to Chan. And then, to the woman, “What are you doing here, Elke? I thought you were getting us ready for Link transition.”

My ward? Dag Korin had said nothing about that at their first meeting. But the woman was speaking. “I was.” There was no mistaking the high-pitched, nervous voice, with its trace of a lisp. “But I have disturbing information, matters that I must discuss with you.”

“You, too? Looks like it’s bad news all round.” Korin opened the door. “We’d better go inside.”

The room they entered was simply furnished even by the standards of Earth’s Gallimaufries. Console, disk-case, small couch, writing desk, bureau, and chair, all without decoration or added niceties. Chan squeezed onto the couch next to Elke Siry, and noticed how she jerked urgently away when his hip accidentally came into contact with hers. Dag Korin went across to the metal bureau in one corner and returned with a box housing a dozen plastic bottles, each the size and shape of a small pear.

“Calvados?” He sat down on a hard chair opposite them. “I can personally recommend it.”

Chan hesitated, then shook his head. Elke took one of the bottles, opened the cap with her thumbnail, and sucked down the contents in one long gulp. She was reaching for another when Korin pulled the box away.

“Talk first. If it’s as bad as you say, maybe we’ll sit here and drink the lot together. Now, Elke, what’s the problem?” Korin caught Elke Siry’s rapid sideways glance at Chan. “Don’t worry, my dear, he’s in this as deep as we are. If I can hear it, so can he.”

“All right.” But Elke Siry’s face suggested to Chan that she thought it was far from all right. She bit her lip, shook her head from side to side so that her long blond tresses swung about her thin face, and burst out, “It’s the Link point. The one in the Geyser Swirl.”

“What about it?”

“I’ve wondered about it ever since I heard it existed. I mean, how could there be a Link in the network that no one knew about before? A Link is a spacetime anomaly. It pops out at you on any connectivity survey in a way you can’t miss.”

“We missed this one.”

“No. I don’t think we did. I believe that it wasn’t there to be observed on any previous survey.”

“Hm.” Korin raised grizzled eyebrows at Chan. “Did you ever hear of anything like that? A Link entry and exit point that comes and goes?”

“I didn’t know such a thing was possible. Link points are permanent features. Aren’t they?”

Chan thought that he had offered a mild and reasonable response. He was not ready for the way that Elke blushed bright red, or for her breathless outburst: “Then that just proves how much you don’t know. Links can be created — and destroyed. How much scientific training have you had?”

“Very little.”

“How much?”

“Well, none.” Chan held up his hands defensively. “Dr. Siry, I wasn’t arguing with you. I’m just telling you what I’ve been told.”

It didn’t seem to help. She was as nervous and intense as ever, the absolute opposite of Dag Korin, who gave the impression he had seen it all before and found it no more shocking this time around.

“But there’s worse,” Elke said abruptly. “We had word today from the Angels. They have some way of monitoring the existence of the Link point in the Geyser Swirl. That Link wasn’t there a year ago, and it wasn’t there yesterday. But it was there two months ago, and now it’s there again. It comes and goes in a totally unpredictable way.”

Chan decided that it was nothing personal. Elke Siry wasn’t angry with him, she was angry with a universe that didn’t behave as it was supposed to.

He asked, “Is that what happened to the other expeditions? They tried to go to a Link network point that wasn’t there?”

“No. If a Link exit point isn’t available, the jump won’t take place. The same will be true of us. If the Link isn’t there, our ship won’t be able to make the transition.”

“Then what does it mean, so far as we are concerned?”

Again a rapid flush of color came to her cheeks. “I’m not sure. But I think we may pass through when the Link is open, and then find ourselves unable to get back. We could become stranded, somewhere in the Geyser Swirl. Maybe that’s what happened to the other expeditions. One thing’s very clear. This Link is nothing like the ones that we are used to. Whoever made it isn’t a member of the Stellar Group.”

“Which means what we’ll be doing is even more dangerous than it sounds,” Dag Korin said quietly. “All right, Elke. That gives me my cue. I had my own conversation today with a consortium of Stellar Group members. Seems they’re still worried that when we’re where they can’t keep an eye on us, in spite of what they’ve told us we’ll behave like naughty boys and girls. They gave me another severe warning: no matter what happens, we must not kill any beings who may be intelligent. When in doubt, we are to err on the side of nonviolence. I said, suppose that the aliens try to kill us? I was told, do whatever you can to save yourselves, but your actions may not include the use of lethal force. If this command is not obeyed, you, Dag Korin, will be held personally responsible.”

Chan said, “In other words, if we’re attacked we’re supposed to lie down and die?”

“Exactly.” The General winked, so quickly it might have been no more than an accidental blink of one blue eye. “Now I’m just going to talk a little at the pair of you. Dalton, you’ve probably been wondering why an old fogy like me, long past retirement, was put in charge of such an important expedition. Oh, don’t bother to deny it, I’ve seen the look on your face. Ancient, asleep half the time, doesn’t know what’s going on. Isn’t that about it? And maybe you’re right, and I’m past it. But I do know one or two things.

“One of them I learned a long time ago, at Capella’s Drift. It’s as true now as it was then: a military genius who’s a lightyear away from the action is likely to make worse mistakes than the average joe or jill on the spot. Just to make it quite clear what I’m getting at, we’re going to be on the spot when we get to the Geyser Swirl. Not the Pipe-Rillas. Not the Tinkers. Not those damned brainy cabbages that people call the Angels. Us .

“But don’t let me get carried away on the subject of aliens, because there’s one other thing I have to say that’s even more important to me than cussing out the members of the Stellar Group. It’s this: I hate to lose people. If there’s any way on earth or heaven that it can be avoided, the members of my crew aren’t going to die, no matter what alien garbage has to get killed along the way to prevent it.

“No Stellar Group members are going to be in the Geyser Swirl to keep an eye on what we get up to there. If anything is ever discovered, by some method I can’t imagine, I propose to assume full personal responsibility for violence. I don’t give a damn what aliens — or humans — do to me. You know what they say about old soldiers. Well, if I have to I won’t fade away. I’d rather go down in flames and in disgrace than see our people killed.”

Korin stood up. “Right. I’ve said my bit, and I don’t propose to repeat it. We’re going, and we’re coming back, as many as possible, and damn all aliens. Now let’s get the show on the road and prepare this rustbucket for Link transit.”

Elke stood up, but Chan did not move. The General glared at him. “Didn’t you hear me?”

“Yes, sir, I did.” Chan wondered about Korin’s short-term memory. “I thought we were going to discuss my problem.”

“Your problem?”

Hadn’t the General understood anything of what Chan had said earlier? “Yes. You know. The problem with Deb Bisson.”

“Didn’t she tell you that she would arrive on board before the deadline?”

“Yes. She may be here already.”

“Then you don’t have a problem. You tell her the arrangement with the rest of your team members went just the way that you planned it. When we have left Earth orbit and are on our way to the Link entry point, you can tell her the truth. By then it will be too late for her to leave.” Korin saw the look on Chan’s face, and smiled. “Come on, man. I thought you said she hated your guts?”

“Not just my guts. All of me.”

“So she finds out you didn’t exactly tell her the truth.” Korin ushered them toward the door. “So what? She’s on the way to the Swirl. Do you think Deb Bisson can hate you any more than she already does?”

The door closed, leaving the general inside and Chan and Elke Siry once more in the corridor. She seemed in no hurry to leave. She lounged against the wall, in the same pose as when Chan and Dag Korin had arrived, and stared at him speculatively. She said, “Why does this woman, Deb Bisson, hate you?”

An odd question, from someone billed as the project scientist. But they were all going to be working together on a dangerous mission, and the more they understood each other, the better. Chan, for the second time in as many hours, summarized the deal that he had made with Deb when he was on Europa. If she would come along, he had guaranteed the whole rest of the team.

When he was finished Elke Siry leaned on the wall and stared at nothing, until Chan wondered if he had become inaudible and invisible.

At last she said, “Your explanation is nonsense. You are omitting essential data. Why does she really hate you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then tell me of the previous times that the pair of you met, before your recent encounter on Europa.”

She had no right in the world to ask for such information, and Chan had no reason to provide it to her. But he found the words spilling out, recalling things that had happened many years before. When he finished, Elke Siry nodded slowly.

“I have never met your friend Deb Bisson. I have hardly met you. However.” Elke’s red lips parted, to reveal sharp white incisors and slightly pronounced canines. “However, if you had done to me what you did to her, I would tear out your throat the next time that we met.

“Deb Bisson is a kind, forgiving woman, ever to speak to you again.”