32

Matt met her at the boarding tube. She was carrying the Valiant in a Gene Teddy box, which was adorned with a picture of the popular children’s character. “Is that it?” he asked.

“That’s it.” She was surprised to see him there. But he looked like a man being led to execution. “Something wrong?”

“No. Why do you ask?”

“No reason. It was good of you to come see us off.”

“‘See you off’? I’m going.”

It had never occurred to her that Matt would put himself at risk. “Good,” she said. “We can use all the help we can get. When are we leaving?”

“Two more people are on the way up. As soon as they get here, in about an hour—”

“Sooner the better,” she said. “I suggest we plan on leaving as soon as they’re in the door.”

He took the box and they started up the tube. “Something happen?”

She told him about Woodbridge. He listened with a deepening frown. “Do we have cover for this mission?” she asked.

“It’s listed as a return to Taratuba. Nothing unusual. But he knew you were coming to Terminal City.”

“I make a lot of trips out here. Nothing unusual about that. And I’ve booked a room at the Beachfront Hotel. We should have a few hours.” It was essential to be away before Woodbridge found out he had nothing more than an ornament and began looking for her. If there was a problem with the Patrol this time, she wouldn’t have Solly in the pilot’s room.

“All right,” he said. “We’ll try to get going as quickly as we can. But I don’t want to leave anybody behind. These people dropped everything for this—”

“They don’t know why, do they?”

“They’ve only been told they won’t be sorry.”

“I hope that’s true.”

If the Hammersmith had resembled a cheap hotel, the McCollum suggested a run-down office building with temporary quarters for people who’d got stranded during a blizzard. It was gray, dark, and oppressive. Usually, when Kim wanted to suggest how desperately the Institute needed contributions, she showed pictures of the Mac.

The ship itself was a box with rounded edges. The rooms were spartan, intended for dual occupancy, with sufficient space to house twenty-four passengers. Its facilities weren’t all that bad: the rec area was decent, it had an updated mission center, a good briefing room, and the pilots thought it was the most dependable vehicle in the Institute’s modest fleet. That probably wasn’t saying a great deal.

The utility deck was located on the top floor. And an 8.6-meter telescope was mounted on the roof.

“We picked up a robot bouncer!” Matt said.

“A what?”

“An automated system we can send outside to get rid of anything that attaches itself to the hull.”

Several of the team members were gathered in the passenger cabin. There was a mathematician, a biologist, a linguist, and several others. Matt introduced everyone. Kim knew a few. They shook hands and everybody started asking questions. What’s it about? Where are we going?

They’d come on faith. Trusted Agostino, God help them.

She explained that she needed some time in her quarters. There were two more coming, and they should be along any moment. When they got here, she’d come back and tell them what all the mystery was about.

Then she excused herself and retreated to her room, asking Matt to let her know as soon as everyone was on board. Ten minutes later there was a knock at her door. She opened it and found herself looking into the smiling features of Ali Kassem, the ship’s captain.

“Kim,” he said. “What’s going on?”

“Hello, Ali.” She made way, and closed the door behind him. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too. What’s all the secrecy?”

“How much do you know?”

“Only that we’re not going to Taratuba.”

“Sit down, Ali,” she said. “Are they giving you hazardous duty pay?”

“Should they?”

“Yes.”

“You’re serious.”

“Very.”

“All right. So fill me in.”

She encapsulated everything into a three-minute narrative, omitting Woodbridge’s effort to seize the Valiant. When she finished he looked shaken. “Are you still willing to go?” she asked.

“What do you do if I decide it is not for me?”

“I’ll be in some difficulty.”

The rest of the team arrived in good order. Other than Kim, Matt, and Ali, there were eight persons on board. They gathered in the briefing room, where Matt explained he had wanted to invite others, and in fact had invited others. Some had wanted specifics, others said they couldn’t come on such short notice. Eight, he said, was inadequate to the task, but it would have to do. Then he turned the meeting over to Kim. “We have only a few minutes before departure,” she said.

“So I’ll try not to waste anyone’s time.” She stepped up onto a raised section of floor. “We’ve made contact,” she said.

The room went dead silent. Nobody moved.

“With celestials. It’s true. It happened. In fact, there’ve been two events.”

Now she had them. They blurted out questions but Kim waved them aside. She described the Hunter and Hammersmith discoveries, and told them what had really occurred at the Culbertson Tunnel. She told them that the Council was determined to maintain secrecy for the time being, and that was why no one had been able to explain anything in advance. She showed them the Valiant but would not allow them to inspect it. “You can do all that later,” she said. “What you need to know now is that we hope to reestablish communication, that we hope to compensate for the mistakes made twenty-seven years ago, and that we know almost nothing about what we face. We’re pretty sure they are now hostile, and we can assume they will not hesitate to destroy the McCollum. We’ll be out there alone. Consequently you might want to reconsider whether you want to come.” She turned to Ali. “Anyone who wishes to leave has an opportunity now to do so. Once we get underway, you’re committed.”

“How dangerous?” asked their anthropologist, Maurie Penn.

“You know as much as I do now. I’d say substantially.”

“Count me in,” said the mathematician. “A chance to talk to another species? Hell, yes.”

There was no real debate. For one thing, they were out of time. For another, the prize was simply too bright. Those who might ordinarily have been reluctant to put their lives in jeopardy for any reason, like the AI specialist Gil Chase, were overwhelmed by the possibilities of the situation. They would all stay. Certainly, they were saying, what else would you expect?

The formal meeting broke up. The seats swung back to acceleration positions, and Ali made for the pilot’s room.

Maurie Penn sat down beside her. “This is not the way I’d have wanted to do this,” he said. “A mission like this. There should have been some preparation.”

“Conditions don’t permit it,” she said.

Ali’s voice alerted them that departure was imminent. The cabin lights dimmed.

The seats in the briefing room had individual monitors that could be keyed into any of the visual inputs from the external imagers. She switched over to a view of Greenway and looked down at Equatoria. The northern snows had given way and the entire continent was now green. The Mandan archipelago trailed off to the west, over the rim of the world.

The skyhook, long and arcing as if a heavy wind were blowing against it, dropped down and down into the cloud banks where it faded from sight.

Kim felt a slight push.

“Underway,” said Ali.

Forty-some minutes later, without a word from the Patrol, they slipped into hyperspace and Kim breathed more easily.