Wicklund was awake. He winced and held his hands up to his ears. There might be a burst eardrum there, something else we would have to take care of when we got to the Hoatzin.
“How did I get here?” he said wonderingly.
“Across the vacuum. Sorry we had to put you out like that, but I didn’t think you could have faced a vacuum passage when you were conscious.”
His gaze turned slowly to McAndrew. “Is he all right?”
“I hope so. There may be some lung damage that we’ll have to take care of. Want to do something to help?”
He nodded, then turned back to look at the ball of the Ark, dwindling behind us. “They can’t catch us now, can they?”
“They might try, but I don’t think so. Kleeman probably considers anybody who wants to leave the Ark is not worth having. Here, take the blue tube out of the kit behind you and smear it on your face and hands. Do the same for McAndrew. It will speed up the repair of the ruptured blood vessels in your skin.”
Wicklund took the blue salve and began to apply it tenderly to McAndrew’s face.
After a couple of seconds Mac opened his eyes and smiled. “Thank you, lad,” he said softly. “I’d talk more physics with you, but somehow I don’t quite feel that I’m up to it.”
“Just lie there quiet.” There was hero worship in Wicklund’s voice. I had a sudden premonition of what the return trip was going to be like. McAndrew and Sven Wicklund in a mutual admiration society, and all the talk of physics.
After we had the capsule back on board the Hoatzin I felt secure for the first time. We installed McAndrew comfortably on one of the bunks while I went to the drive unit and set a maximum-acceleration course back to the Solar System. Wicklund’s attention was torn between his need to talk to McAndrew and his fascination with the drive and the ship. How would Einstein have felt in 1905, if someone could have shown him a working nuclear reactor just a few months after he had developed the mass-energy relation? It must have been like that for Wicklund.
“Want to take a last look?” I said, my hand on the drive keyboard.
He came across and gazed at the Ark, still set on its long journey to Tau Ceti. He looked sad, and I felt guilty.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “But I’m afraid there’s no going back now.”
“I know.” He hesitated. “You found Home a bad place, I could tell from what McAndrew said. But it’s not so bad. To me, it was home for my whole life.”
“We’ll talk to the Ark again. There may be a chance to come here later, when we’ve had more time to study the life that you lived. I hope you’ll find a new life in the System.”
I meant it, but I was having a sudden vision of the Earth we were heading back to. Crowded, noisy, short of all resources. Wicklund might find it as hellish as we had found life on the Ark of Massingham. It was too late to do anything about it now. Fortunately, this sort of problem probably meant less to Wicklund than it would to most people. Like McAndrew, his real life was lived inside his own head, and all else was secondary to that private vision.
I pressed the key sequence and the drive went on. Within seconds, the Ark had vanished from sight.
I turned back and was surprised to see that McAndrew was sitting up in his bunk. He looked terrible, but he must be feeling better. His hands were yellow paws of surrogate flesh, his face and neck a bright blue coating of the ointment that Wicklund had applied to them. The dribble of blood that had come from his mouth had spread its bright stain down his chin and over the front of his tunic, mixing in with the blue fabric to produce a horrible purple splash.
“How are you, Mac?” I said.
“Not bad. Not bad at all.” He forced a smile.
“You know, it’s not good enough. You promised me ages ago that you’d schedule a repair for that lung — and you didn’t do it. If you think I’m prepared to keep dragging you around bleeding and bubbling, you’re wrong. When we get back, you have that lung fixed properly — if I have to drag you to the medics myself.”
“Och, Jeanie.” He gave a feeble shrug. “We’ll see. It takes so much time away from work. Let’s get on home, though, and we’ll see. I’ve learned a lot on this trip, more than I ever expected. It’s all been well worth it.”
He caught my skeptical look. “Honest, now, this is more important than you realize. We’ll make the next trip out together, the way I promised you. Maybe next time we’ll get to the stars. I’m sorry that you got nothing out of this one.”
I stared at him. He looked like a circus clown, all smears and streaks of different clashing colors. I shook my head. “You’re wrong. I got something out of it.”
He looked puzzled. “How’s that?”
“I listen to you and the other physicists all the time, and usually I don’t understand a word of it. This time I know just what you mean. Lie still, and you can see for yourself. I’ll be back in a second.”
All the colors of the vacuum? That was McAndrew. If a picture is worth a thousand words, there are times when a mirror is worth more than that. I wanted to watch Mac’s face when he saw his own reflection.
FOURTH CHRONICLE: The Manna Hunt
We had been working hard for two months, preparing for the first long trip. Neither McAndrew nor I would admit to feeling excited, but every day I could see the pleasure and anticipation just bubbling up in him. I doubt that I was any harder to read.
It meant sixteen-hour work spells, day after day, checking every detail of the ship and mission. On an exploration that would take us away for four months of shipboard time and almost nine years of Earth-time, all the thinking had to be finished before we left the Institute.
Finally the launch date was only four days away.
That made the news of cancellation — when they plucked up the courage to tell us about it — hard to take.
I had been over on the Hoatzin, checking the condition of the big massplate at the front of the ship. It took longer than I expected. By the time I flew my inspection pinnace on its ten thousand kilometer hop back to the Penrose Institute we were well into the sleep period. I hadn’t expected anyone in the dining hall when I slipped in to dial a late meal — and certainly I didn’t expect to find Professor Limperis in close conversation with McAndrew.
“Working late—” I said. Then I saw their faces. Even Limperis, black as he was, looked drawn and a shade paler.
I sat down opposite them. “What’s happened?”
McAndrew shrugged without speaking and jerked his head towards Limperis.
“We’ve had a directive from USF Headquarters,” said the older man. He seemed to be picking his words carefully. “Signed by Korata — right from the top. There was a meeting last week between the Food and Energy Council of Earth and the United Space Federation. They called me two hours ago. The Penrose Institute is instructed to support certain high priority Council activities. This requires that we—”
“They’ve cancelled us, Jeanie,” cut in McAndrew harshly. “The bastards. Without one word of discussion with anybody here. Our Alpha Centauri mission is dead — finito.”
I gawped at Limperis. He nodded in an embarrassed way. “Postponed, at least. With no new date set.”
“They can’t do that.” I was beginning to feel my own anger rising. “The Institute doesn’t answer to the Food and Energy Council, how the hell can they claim to order you around? This is an independent organization. Tell them to go away and play with themselves. You have the authority to do that, don’t you?”
“Well…” Limperis looked even more embarrassed. “In principle, Captain Roker, it is as you say. I have the authority. But you know that’s an oversimplification of the real world. We need political support as much as any other group — we rely partly on public funding. I like to pretend that we’re pure research, answering to no one. In practice, we have our own political constituency in the Councils. I tried to explain this just now” — McAndrew grunted and glowered down at the table — “to point out why I can’t really fight it without losing an awful lot. Three of our big supporters, Councilors who’ve done us big favors in the past, called me ten minutes after we got the first word. They want to use their credit on this one. The Alpha Centauri mission is off. The Council needs the use of the Hoatzin for other purposes.”