Rudy strode onto the bridge and sat down in the pilot’s chair. “Nice feeling,” he said.
Matt agreed. He felt fifteen years younger.
Rudy pressed his fingertips against the control board. “How long did you say it was going to take to get there?”
“To Alioth?” asked Jon.
“Yes.”
“Five and a half hours.”
“My God, I still can’t believe it. It used to take”—he consulted his notebook—“more than a week.”
Matt had been there once, years ago. “Eight days,” he said, “two hours, eleven minutes in transit.”
Rudy was enjoying himself. “How long would it take us to get to Alpha Centauri?”
“About twenty minutes,” said Matt. “A little less, probably.”
Matt was too excited to sleep that night. He was up at about five, took almost two hours for breakfast, talked to some reporters, had coffee with Rudy in Cappy’s, talked to more reporters, and called Jon, who was with the technicians. “If they aren’t finished yet,” Matt remarked, “it’s not a good sign.”
But Jon was in the best of moods. “It’s not their fault,” he said. “You’re never really finished calibrating something like this.”
Antonio Giannotti wandered into the restaurant. Matt recognized him immediately, would have known him even if Rudy hadn’t alerted him he was coming. He was a muscular guy, average height, with a craggy face and the sort of beard favored by mad scientists. He looked bigger on the HV. Originally from Rome, he’d run the Dr. Science show from there, where he’d played his role wrapped in a white lab coat. He didn’t look much older than he had in those days. Rudy waved him over, introduced him, and Matt felt a bit awed in his presence.
What had happened to Dr. Science? One year, when Matt was about thirteen, he just suddenly wasn’t there anymore.
“It was a job with no future,” Antonio said. “I had nowhere to go from there.”
“I would have thought you could have done anything. You were great.”
“The science was great. I wanted to be a comedian.”
Matt could still recall his disappointment when Dr. Science disappeared. Along with his discovery he couldn’t hit a decent curveball, it had marked what he thought of as his arrival at the beginning of adulthood. Being a teen, he would think later, wasn’t all hormones and good times. There were some losses. Inevitably, there were always losses.
More reporters arrived, from the Post and Nature. He and Antonio were talking with them when Hutch called. “Where are you, Matt?”
“Cappy’s,” he said.
“Save me a seat.”
A few minutes later she walked in. The Post and Nature didn’t recognize her. “My understanding,” said the Post, “is that the drive system is not only much more efficient, but it’s safer than the Hazeltine. Is that true?”
“It’s less complex. Fewer things can go wrong.”
“How close was Barber to solving these issues?” asked Nature. “Does he get the credit? Or is it Jon Silvestri who did the brute work?”
Time was, Matt thought, Hutch would have been the center of attention.
Yesterday’s news.
“One of them, the guy with the muscles,” Matt told her, “is making the flight with us. He’s a pool reporter.”
“Good. Publicity never hurts.” She turned those dark eyes on him. “Matt, I wanted to come by to wish you luck.”
“Jon tells me you don’t want to come.”
“Yeah. I’m a little busy.”
“But not too busy to run up here?” She was silent. He let it play out. Then: “Wish you were coming?”
“Don’t tempt me,” she said.
“We have room.”
“I didn’t bring my gear.”
“What gear? We’ll be back tonight.”
“Matt, I’d love to, but—”
“But what? You have anything pressing to do today or tomorrow?” He could see some sort of internal struggle going on.
“Not really. I just—”
“Yeah?”
“—don’t—”
“—don’t what?”
“I promised myself I wouldn’t do this again.”
“Why?”
She hesitated. “My family, I guess.”
“Aren’t your kids both away at school?”
“Yes.”
“Not that it matters. You’ll be home tonight if you want to make the late run down to Reagan.” Matt paused, then added, “And we make the world’s best return jump.” After they arrived insystem, they’d still have to use the main engines to come the rest of the way in. It could take a while.
“Alioth and back in a few hours.”
“Yes.” Matt couldn’t resist a broad smile. “Welcome to the new world, Priscilla.”
Like Matt, she’d made a flight to Alioth once, years ago, hauling a team of researchers. When they got there, they’d spent three weeks insystem. The three weeks hadn’t been bad, because the researchers were busy taking temperatures and charting orbits, leaving her to read and watch shows. It had been painful nonetheless. That crowd, the Alioth crowd, had been hopelessly dull, and they’d spent much of their time trying to impress her. It hadn’t helped that she herself had been quite young then, just starting her career, and not very bright.
That had been the mission during which an additional star had been discovered in the system. It had been a big event, setting the researchers into a celebration that had gone on, in one form or another, for several days. She’d been dismissive of it, informing one of them that it wasn’t as if there was a shortage of stars. It turned out that the discovery accounted for a series of orbital anomalies. It meant little to her. In those days she was hard to impress. Probably every bit as dull as the researchers.
Hutch had been unable to resist attending the Preston launch. Years ago, after she’d made her last flight, on the Amirault, she’d promised herself that she would not go back into space. She’d never been sure why she’d done that. Maybe the knowledge that her days in the superluminals had ended was too painful, and she’d wanted to pretend it didn’t matter. In any case, she’d kept her vow. Had even resisted a vacation aboard The Evening Star when Tor had wanted to treat her.
If I go out there, I’m not sure I’ll be able to come back.
Well, that was a bit over the top, but there was a modicum of truth to it. Still, she ached to do it again. To cruise past Canopus and touch down on Achernar II and glide through the rings at Deneb V. (Deneb, at approximately twenty-six hundred light-years, had marked the farthest she’d ever been from home. She’d loved that flight.)
And she was sorry she’d declined Jon’s offer. Wouldn’t admit it to herself, but she stood looking into Matt’s eyes, knowing she’d regret it forever if she didn’t go. Why not? Charge off for the day. Be back tonight.
She’d have to buy a change of clothes. Maybe a few other items. But why the hell not?
An hour later, she worked her way through a mob of reporters and cameramen and well-wishers and walked onto the Preston with Matt. Jon laughed at her and said how he knew all along she’d break down and come. She put her gear away and sat down next to Antonio in the common room while Jon and Matt chatted on the bridge. That was where she really wanted to be, but she made up her mind to let them do whatever they had to do and give Matt a clear field. Last thing he’d need would be an ex-pilot hanging around. “So,” she said, looking for a topic, “what makes a good reporter, Antonio? What’s your secret?”