Matt had not been entirely serious when he made the offer. “It’s time to do the heavy lifting, Jon. You might want a professional at this point.”
“You telling me you don’t think you could do the job?”
“I’m telling you I’ve been away from it for a long time.”
“Okay.” Jon shrugged. “Your call. If you want me to get someone else, I will.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Make up your mind, Matt.”
Matt’s eyes grew intense. “Yes,” he said. “I’d like to do it.”
The bot picked that moment to show up and ask if they wanted anything to drink. “Champagne,” said Jon.
The bot bowed. “I’m sorry. We don’t serve alcoholic beverages.”
“I know,” said Jon. “Matt, what’ll you have?”
There were no women in Jon’s life. At least, none to whom he was emotionally attached. He’d left none behind in Locarno, and had been too busy since he’d arrived in the DC area. The last few months had been dominated by his efforts to make Henry’s system work. And by God, it did. He had met his obligation to his mentor, and his only regret was that Henry Barber would never know it.
For the first time since he’d decided that Henry was on the right track, that he had an obligation to finish the research, to make it work, nothing was hanging over his head. He’d never really doubted himself, yet he was finding it hard to believe that it was finally finished. Now there was nothing to do but sit back and enjoy the victory.
He was riding a taxi over the Potomac, knowing life would never be better. He had a speaking engagement almost every day, and this one had been no exception. He’d appeared at the Baltimore Rotary, where everyone was his friend. People asked him how the drive worked and glazed over when he tried to explain. (He’d developed a simple explanation using a house with multiple corridors as an illustration, but it didn’t seem to matter.) They told him he was brilliant. It was a great feeling. Hard to stay humble through all this. But he tried, and he wandered through the crowd at the end of each evening, signing autographs and reveling in the attention. People insisted on buying him drinks. They introduced him to their friends. Told him how they’d always thought star travel was too slow. Not that they’d ever been out there themselves, understand. But it was about time somebody had picked up the pace. Interesting women were everywhere. Too many for him to become attached to any single one. So he seldom went home alone, but he could not get past the feeling that, through it all, something was missing.
The Potomac Islands were lit up, and boats rode the river. The taxi let him off at the Franklin Walkway, and he strolled out onto the pier. Retailers were doing a hefty business, selling souvenirs and sandwiches and balloons.
He found an unoccupied bench, sat down, and put his feet up on the guardrail. He owed it all to Henry. And, to a lesser degree, to Matt and Priscilla. He’d already been able to return the favor to Matt. He should find a way to say thanks to Hutchins, as well.
And Rudy.
He stared out at the Potomac.
Everybody wanted to provide a ship now. He had a fleet at his disposal if he needed it.
In the morning, he called Rudy. “I wanted to run something by you,” he said.
“Sure.” Rudy looked uncomfortable. He would know that Jon had been swamped by offers. He probably thought the Foundation was out of the bidding now. “What can I do for you, Jon?”
“Matt and I were talking about the next step. Does the Foundation want to be included?”
“Yes.” No screwing around here. “Absolutely. What did you have in mind?”
“We’re talking about a long-range flight. Sirius or someplace. So we need a ship.”
Rudy was in his office, soft piano music playing in the background. “You’re welcome to the Preston if you want it.”
“I’d like very much to have it.”
“Seriously? The corporates could do better by you.”
“Are you going to try to talk me into accepting one of their offers, Rudy?”
“No, no,” he said. “Nothing like that. Yes, sure. The Preston is yours. But I think I told you we don’t have a pilot.”
“I’ve got one.”
“Who?”
“Matt.”
“Matt? Jon, Matt’s a real estate agent.”
“Yeah. Should make a little history.”
He let Jon see that he disapproved. Then he sighed. “Sirius? You’re really going to Sirius?”
“We don’t know yet. I’m just talking off the top of my head.”
“Of course.” He didn’t seem to know what to say.
“I’ve another question.”
“Yes?”
“Would you want to come along?”
He obviously hadn’t been expecting that. “Jon, it’s been years, decades since I’ve been outside the solar system.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to go?”
“No. Not at all. I’m just not sure what I could do to help.”
“You don’t have to help, Rudy. Just come along. For the ride.”
Rudy usually hid his emotions. But he broke into a gigantic grin. “Sure. Absolutely.” Then he frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“We’ll have to get more money to overhaul the Preston and make the installation.”
“I don’t think money will be a problem. Let’s get together and work out the details.”
“Okay. Sure.” Rudy’s eyes glowed. “Sirius.” He drew the word out, tasting its flavor. “How long’s it going to take to make the flight? We leave in the morning, get there for lunch?”
Jon, feeling very much the man in charge, called Hutch and told her what they were planning. “We wanted to invite you to come with us. If you’d like.”
She smiled, a little wistfully, he thought. “No, thanks, Jon. You guys go ahead. Have a big time. Make it work.”
Rudy wasted no time getting the word out to the Foundation’s supporters. Contributions poured in. It became a tidal wave.
Meantime, Jon led a team of engineers onto the Preston, and they began replacing the drive unit. Rudy also arranged to upgrade the passenger quarters.
At Stern & Hopkins, Matt informed Emma that he would be piloting the Locarno mission, and arranged to take a leave of absence. She was not happy. “If this drive unit is going to take you out there, wherever that is, so quickly,” she asked, “why do you need a leave of absence? Just take a few vacation days.”
Normally, one did not embrace the boss. On this occasion, Matt made an exception. “Emma,” he said, “we may be gone a bit longer than that.”
“Oh.”
He didn’t put it in words, but she understood. Sirius would be just the beginning. Not much more than another test run.
And, finally, there was Reyna.
“After this is over,” she asked, “what do you plan to do?” They were having dinner at their favorite restaurant, Culbertson’s, on Massachusetts Avenue.
There was no way to soften it for her. “Don’t know,” he said. “But I suspect we’ll be going out again.”
She nodded. Smiled. Didn’t ask how long the follow-up voyage might take. Didn’t ask whether he wanted her to wait. Tried, not entirely successfully, to look like the good soldier. Good luck to you. See you when you get back. Take care of yourself.