“How did he die, Uncle Gabe?”
“He had a yacht, and it broke down during a flight. He’d gone out somewhere, light-years from home. For years, nobody knew what had happened. And then somebody just found him adrift.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
Gabe was tall, easy-going, dressed in the khakis he always wore on the job. It had been a long day at a site that he suspected held the remains of Gustofalo II, the beloved founder of the Karim Republic. But that had been six thousand years ago. The area had been rife with earthquakes. The original settlers had gotten unlucky.
The better part of what had once been a city had been buried. Gabe and his partners looked through the scanners and saw porticoes, dormers, a ruined temple, sheets of concrete that had once been sidewalks. Eventually the area had been abandoned altogether. There was no easy way to know which, if any, of the structures contained the remains of the great man.
Local authorities were on the scene to ensure that they didn’t attempt to make off with anything. He was glad they took the precaution because they also kept idle visitors away. Gabe was working in league with the Holcomb Museum. But funding was limited. They couldn’t afford to dig up everything. In fact, the museum representative, after looking at the progress reports, had suggested that it would probably be best to call a halt.
Gabe hated to give up. But he was grateful for Alex’s interest in Brandy, which gave him the opportunity to think about something else. “Did you know the name of his yacht?” Alex asked.
“Yes. The Rover. He was in love with the stars.”
Alex knew about that. He talked about them a lot. About other worlds and stuff.
Gabe nodded. “He enjoyed riding around the Orion Arm. Sometimes he went alone, sometimes with friends. Anyhow he was alone when he took off on one of those flights and never came back. For almost twenty-five years nobody knew what had happened to him.”
“I don’t understand that, Uncle Gabe. You mean nobody knew where he was going?”
“Oh, no. He had to file a flight plan just like everybody else. He went to Zeta Leporis. It was one of those places nobody ever bothered with. It didn’t have any life-bearing planets or anything particularly exciting. Hardly anyone had been there. I guess that’s what attracted him.” Gabe took a deep breath. “When he didn’t come back, they sent a rescue mission out. But they couldn’t find any sign that he’d even been there. What happened was a mystery for a long time. Eventually, years later, somebody came across the Rover.”
“What did happen, Uncle Gabe?”
He closed his eyes for a moment. “One of the engines blew. Took out his subspace comm system so he couldn’t even send an appeal for help.”
“And he died out there?” Alex asked.
“Yes. The people who examined the damage said it couldn’t have taken more than a couple of hours. The Rover was leaking air.”
Alex was sixteen, not yet ready for existential reality. He became haunted by the images of a terrified Brandy, the guy who saw humor in everything, trapped in a narrow ship leaking air. Alone, and with no hope of rescue. If something like that could happen to him, it could happen to anyone.
What had those last hours been like?
Gabe saw the reaction. “It’s okay, Alex,” he said. “I can’t believe he wouldn’t have been able to deal with it. He was a smart guy. He knew he was taking a chance when he went out there. Let it go, kid.”
That evening there was reason to celebrate: The scanners picked up a structure that resembled a crypt. Gabe thought there was a good chance it was precisely what they were looking for.”
“How can you tell?” asked Alex. “It’s just a rock dome.”
“It’s concrete. And we can’t know for sure until we go down and take a closer look. It might just be a cenotaph.”
“What’s that?”
“A memorial. Sometimes they’ll erect one but bury the body somewhere else. You get more security that way from grave robbers. But even that would be progress.”
“That’s good.”
“You’re still upset about Brandy, aren’t you?”
“I’m okay.” People should die quietly. In bed, surrounded by family and friends. Alex had never really thought about it before. He didn’t much care about Gustofalo. But he didn’t want Gabe to see that. “So why do you think that dome might be where he’s buried?”
“There’s an inscription.” He pointed at a string of engraved characters. They didn’t look like anything Alex had seen before.
“That’s his name?”
“No. It’s a quote. It’s from The Achea. His book of commentary. Which, by the way, people still read today. It’s a classic. You should try it sometime.”
“What’s the inscription say?”
“One chance at life.”
“So he’s saying what? Have a big time while you can?”
“More or less, Alex. If we’re right, it’s his farewell message. The way he wanted to be remembered.”
Alex smiled. “I think I’d have liked the guy. Reminds me a little of Brandy.”
That evening, clouds rolled in, lightning rattled around darkened skies, and rain began to fall. Gabe took a call on his link, talked for a few minutes, and then told Alex there was more good news. “We cleared the data with the museum,” he said. “Tomorrow, if the weather gives us a break, we’ll start the excavation.”
“They said okay?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Alex looked uncertain.
“Something wrong, champ?”
“I was thinking that Brandy should have left a farewell message. They didn’t find anything in the Rover, I guess?”
Gabe’s mind had been elsewhere, and he needed a few moments to catch up. “No,” he said finally. “Not that I know of.”
“It seems strange, for him.”
“Well, maybe he did.”
“I don’t think so. I checked with Roger.” His AI. “He didn’t know of anything either.”
“He probably thought the Rover would never be found.”
“Maybe. But I can’t imagine Brandy going away quietly.”
“Apparently he did.”
Alex produced his link again so he could talk to Roger. “Was the radio on the Rover damaged when they found it?”
Roger needed a minute. “No, Alex,” he said. “The radio was okay.”
“It wouldn’t much matter,” Gabe said. “He was too far out for it to matter. A couple hundred light-years.”
A thunderclap erupted overhead. They both ducked. “Big one,” said Alex when the rumbling had subsided. “He was a radio guy, Uncle Gabe. It’s just hard to believe he wouldn’t have gone live one final time.”
“But what would have been the point? He was two hundred light-years out. The transmission would still be a long way from home.”
“I guess you’re right. It’s just hard to believe.”
Gabe wished Brandy would go away.
“Uncle Gabe, if he did send a signal, we could pinpoint where it would be at any given time, and we could be there waiting for it when it arrived. We could listen to his final broadcast.”
“Radio archeology,” said Gabe.
“Yes. Can we do it? When we’re done here?”