Beekman wondered how authority on Wendy ran in such a case. Beekman was the project director, charged with ensuring that they made maximum use of their time and resources to record and analyze the event. Marcel was the ship's captain.
"Talk to him. Clairveau'll listen to you."
XXVIII
I'm always interested when a large-scale project is successfully completed. My own research shows that, in any organization numbering more than twenty-two people, no single person can ever be fbund who completely understands what's going on.
— Gregory MacAllister, Gone to Glory
Hours to breakup (est): 44
Pindar and Shira climbed into a shuttle and watched the launch doors open. Outside, a few hundred meters,away, they could see the assembly. It looked like a group of unconnected narrow tubes, running absolutely parallel, stretching unbroken in both directions. "Here we go," said the pilot. They glided quietly forward and, to Pindar's intense excitement, moved past the enclosing bulkheads and sailed into the night
The patch over the pilot's pocket read bomar. "Klaus," he said stiffly by way of introduction. His manner implied their presence was inconvenient. He was short and heavyset, with a Canadian accent Pindar thought he looked like a man who never enjoyed himself.
But the truth was Pindar barely paid any attention to the pilot He was captivated by the alien structure, its parallel tubes reaching toward infinity, vanishing finally in the stars.
Behind them the big luxury liner began to move. It accelerated, drew away, and its vast bulk dwindled and disappeared. It was, he knew, headed for the asteroid. Bomar advanced on the assembly, turned along its flank, braked, and coasted to a stop.
"Okay," he said. "You two are on."
It was an electric moment. Pindar activated his e-suit. Bomar
checked him, adjusted something on his back, and then looked at Shira. "Looks good," he said.
"Don't we get a go-pack?" asked Shira, eyeing the thruster harnesses stowed in the utility locker.
"Negative." Bomar's somber features softened with amusement. "You don't need one. Just do what you're supposed to and don't fall off."
"Right," said Pindar. His own voice seemed to have deepened somewhat.
Bomar opened the inner hatch. "Keep one foot flat on the metal at all times while you're on the thing. Okay?"
"Absolutely," said Shira.
"This is not something to smile about. Please get it right the first time. I don't want to have to do a lot of paperwork." He exhaled and looked like a man who wasn't used to accommodating amateurs. "They got your next of kin?"
That question had been on one of the forms. "Yes," said Shira.
"Keep it in mind while you're out there. All right, let's go."
Shira and Pindar had arrived at Station One. There was no brace there, nothing to hold the shafts together. They were 320 kilometers from the asteroid, the rock that had provided the counterweight to whatever space station had once been attached. Their assignment was simply to climb on board, select the correct shaft, and mark it.
Shira was not a classic beauty. Her ears were a little big, her nose a little long, and the e-suit handicapped her by pressing her rich brown hair down against her scalp. But she was nevertheless attractive in a way he couldn't formulate. She was self-possessed, methodical, seemed quite adroit at laughing at herself. And perhaps most enchanting of all, she showed no apprehension whatever about going outside. "Come on, Pindar," she said, picking up her utility pack and throwing it across one shoulder. She led the way into the airlock. When the inner hatch closed she turned to him. "I can't believe this is happening," she said.
Pindar tried not to roll his eyes. He felt much the same way but could never have brought himself to say it.
"You ever been outside before?" she asked.
"No. Yesterday was the first time." The training exercise. Prior to that, the opportunity had risen only once. He'd had a chance to put on an e-suit and stand on the hull of a ship in flight during an adventure tour, but he'd passed it up for an evening of poker.
The assembly stretched across the overhead monitor, its relative motion reduced to zero. Bomar had matched course, speed, and aspect.
"Opening up," he said.
The hatch slid upward. Shira was wearing shorts and a white blouse with gold-rimmed breast pockets. She looked as if she were primed for a tennis outing.
She caught him staring. "You're laughing," she said.
He looked down at his own garments: tan slacks and a black pullover. He wished he'd thought to bring work clothes, something old that he wouldn't care about if he ruined. The Star had offered jumpsuits to the volunteers, but he hadn't been able to find one in which he felt comfortable. "I think we're a bit overdressed for the occasion," he said.
The assembly was almost close enough to touch.
Shira moved past him to the lip of the airlock and simply allowed her forward motion to carry her across, as she'd been taught. No jumping, no sudden exertion. She caught hold of the nearest shaft, smiled back at him, and brought her magnetic boots into contact with the next tube below.
Pindar followed, thinking how this was the first alien anything he'd ever touched, how he'd be telling his grandkids about this in another half century. It was a big moment, and he was enjoying himself thoroughly.
He reached Shira's shaft and let his boots connect. "Okay, Klaus," he told the pilot. "We're clear."
"Strange feeling," said Shira.
He looked back the way he had come and saw Morgan, a vast cobalt arc split in half by sunlight. Even though it was still at a substantial distance, he could feel its weight. Its mass, he recalled. Use the proper terminology.
Deepsix, floating directly ahead at the end of the assembly, was white and blue and vulnerable. Lunch, he thought. Not much more than a snack for the monster that was moving in on it.
Shira touched his arm. "Let's find our shaft."
The shuttle drifted alongside.
Using the spacecraft as a guide, they climbed up. Shira led the way. At the first two steps, she paused, looked down through the shafts, shook her head, and moved on. The third try was golden.
"Okay," she said. She backed away to get a better look. "This is it. No question."
Pindar joined her, saw four shafts line up with the one he was standing on. He produced his squirt gun and splashed yellow dye on the metal. "I dub you Alpha," he said.
"You guys sure now?" asked Bomar.
"Of course," Shira sounded annoyed.
Beekman was unable to make up his mind. He stood near Marcel, uncertain whether to demand that they forget this fool's errand and return to the mission they'd come there for, or inform him that there were some malcontents and not to worry, that Beekman would handle it, but that the captain should be prepared for complaints.
The hours were slipping away, and their magnificent opportunity was dwindling. Bentley and several others were watching, waiting to see whether he would act.
Lori's voice was providing periodic updates from the various teams. In addition, the conversation from the lander cabin had been put on the speaker. The AI reported that all stations on the target shaft, the one they'd designated Alpha, had been successfully marked.
Marcel looked up at him. "So far, so good."
"Yes." Beekman looked directly into his eyes. "It doesn't sound as if our ground team has much confidence in us, though."
"I think I prefer it that way," said Marcel, glancing around at the technicians. "Provides extra incentive. I think everybody here would like to prove them wrong."
Maybe not everybody, Beekman thought.
Marcel looked into his eyes and frowned. "What is it, Gunny?"