Sherrine took her by the arm. "Aren't you coming with us?"
Terri shook her head. "No, someone's got to stay behind and give you an alibi. I can tell them how you overpowered me and headed west out St. Paul Avenue. My friend Allis Place belongs to Psi Phi Fraternity over by the University. They'll report some horses stolen, so the Alderman's stooges will go chasing off that direction. I'll tell them you're gonna die of typhus anyway. The Alderman will think you're a blessing. Maybe you'll go to Juneautown and start a plague."
"But--you won't come, then?"
"This is my home," she said. "Such as it is. What if other fen find themselves in need of help someday?"
Sherrine hugged her. "It must be awful, living life undercover like that. Aren't you afraid of exposure?"
Terri grinned. "That's why I stay under the covers. Being a fan was a lot simpler in the old days; now we've all got new destinies to pursue. Here." She handed them a paper sack. "You'll need money. Take this. It's filled with cheese. Sorry, no apple pie. 'The best of all physicians is apple pie and cheese.' Quick, now. Into the boat. Seamus, hurry! You've still got to tie me up."
The short, bearded man grinned at them as he jogged past up to the house. "Some parts of this job, I like."
It was a gaff rigged catboat with plenty of room aboard. The mast was stepped well forward and wore a single quadrilateral sail.
The boat pushed off from shore, and the sail caught the wind. It heeled dangerously, then settled on course. They huddled in the bottom of the boat, out of the chill wind, and Alex managed to be next to Sherrine.
"How did you know she was a friend?"
"The sign. 'Yngvi is a louse'-well, it's a quote from an old fantasy, and it got to be sort of a catch phrase among fans. As soon as I saw 'Yngvi DeLousing…' "
Alex nodded. "I see. FIAWOL I know, but what means that other one?"
She grinned. "FIJAGH. Fandom Is Just A Goddamn Hobby.
The Museum of Science and Industry was located on the shore of Lake Michigan in Jackson Park on Chicago's south side. Seamus maneuvered the catboat to a spit of land just north of the museum and ran the bow aground. "Are you sure you want off here?" he asked.
"Yes," Sherrine told him. "We are supposed to meet someone."
Seamus glanced up at the imposing building. He ran a hand through his beard. "Well, be careful. It's not the museum it used to be. Time was this was Chi-Town's biggest tourist attraction. Four million people a year came to look at Science and Technolo exhibits. Like a damn city come to visit. A lot of the displays have been changed over now. They only left a few, and they don't keep the homeless out."
Alex wobbled as he stepped ashore. His legs felt like rubber and he grabbed Thor's shoulders to stay upright. "Sorry," he muttered. "I seem to have lost it." The long, leisurely sail down the Milwaukee River and then along the shore of Lake Michigan had, with its gentle rolling motion, put him back into a state of near weightlessness. Now the earth heaved to and fro as if tossed by waves.
Seamus waved to them as he cast off. The wind was off the lake, abeam to his course both coming and going. "Sailor's wind," he called. "Good luck."
"FIAWOL," Alex said tentatively.
"Don't you just know it," Seamus called. He hauled in the sheets and the boat moved rapidly away.
Bob and Sherrine disappeared and reappeared a short while later with a pair of wheelchairs with C.M.S.A.T. stenciled in yellow ink across the back. "Here you go, guys," Sherrine said. "You wouldn't believe what they wanted for a deposit on these things."
Bob led the way to the front of the building. The facade consisted of tall, fluted columns with voluted capitals. Statues of the Muses gazed serenely down. "It's a huge building," he said. "Covers five and a half hectares. It was built originally for the 1893 World Colombian Exposition; then rebuilt in the 1930s as the museum."
"Where would this Cole character have his Titan?" asked Alex.
"There used to be a wing, called the Henry Crown Space Center. It had Schirra's Aurora Seven Mercury capsule and the Apollo Eight, the first craft to orbit the moon. The Titan is probably back there. I figured maybe we could mount the Apollo on the Titan somehow. It seats three."
"Which means," Sherrine interjected, "that you could even take a friend with you. No, guess not. Seeds and stuff--"
"The Titan was rigged for a Gemini," said Bob, "but I figured we should be able to…" His voice trailed off. Alex suspected that Bob was just beginning to appreciate the magnitude of the proposed rescue. As long as it was blue sky dream, there were no problems; but the closer they came, the more the difficult details emerged.
People didn't really build spacecraft in their backyards, or in museums. That was just science fiction.
So far so good!
They went up the handicapped ramp to the left of the main entrance. The mass of the building was beginning to get to Alex. Peace and Freedom were frail metal balloons next to this concrete habitat. It was, he thought, like being in a hollowed-out asteroid.
Bob secured a map of the museum and they huddled over it. The logo read, "Chicago Museum of Science and Appropriate Technology," with a footnote explaining that "science" did not mean only "materialist science."
Now, what might "non-materialist science" be? Alex wondered. Plasma physics?
"Here it is." Bob pointed. "I'll be damned. It's still in the same old spot. Henry Crown Space Center. What does it say in the description?" He bent closer. "This exhibit has been preserved as it was in the past as an example of Big Technology. Astonishing as it may seem, billions of dollars were once spent in outer space rather than here on Earth. See the actual capsules that were used to give a few military pilots joyrides at taxpayer expense."
"I don't understand, Bob," Alex said. "How could they spend money in space? There were no stores there back in those days."
"That's not what they meant, Gabe," Bob replied.
Thor spoke gently. "They meant that the money was spent on the space program rather than on Earthly problems."
Sherrine burst out, "They got so much from the space program! Fireproofing. Weather forecasting. Dammit, these"--she kicked Alex's wheelchair--" lightweight wheelchairs we're pushing around. Sorry."
Alex started to laugh. Sherrine said, "Sorry. My God, it's been so long since I could say this kind of thing!"
"Did these chairs really--"
"Waste-water treatments. Medical instruments. Most people had no idea that any of that came out of the space program. Or for that matter, that it even existed. A new design lightweight wheelchair doesn't make the kind of headlines that a scrubbed launch or a flawed mirror makes, even if the structural analysis techniques and composite materials used to make the damn thing were aerospace from the beginning. What is everyone grinning at?"
"Welcome back," Steve said.
"Thanks. Oh, Bob, there was nobody to talk to."
Steve said, "All that stuff was just 'spin-off,' you know. Science happens because one day a scientist wakes up and says, 'Today I'm going to invent toothpaste.' If he didn't plan to invent a better wheelchair, he can't take credit for it."
"Come on," said Bob. "We're wasting time here. Let's get back to the Crown Center."
He led them through several exhibits on the way to the back room where the space exhibit was stashed. One was a Hall of Minerals that featured all sorts of crystals, together with detailed descriptions of the powers of each for "… clearing away negative attitudes, centering personal energies, enhancing communications, promoting healing, opening the heart to love and courage, simplifying decision making, balancing the spirit, focusing the mind, tapping into psychic powers, and using chakras and colors."