It was open. Bonner and Alex stood aside, allowing me the honor of entering first.
The lights were on. I went in, into the common room, which was twice the size of Belle ’s. There were three small tables and eight chairs arranged around the bulkheads. Bonner began immediately jabbering about something. Fuel efficiency or some such thing. The Polaris had been luxurious, in the way that Survey thought of the term. But its present condition went well beyond that. The relatively utilitarian furniture that you saw in the simulations had been replaced. The chairs were selbic, which looked and felt like soft black leather. The bulkheads, originally white, were dark-stained. Thick green carpets covered the decks. Plaques featuring Evergreen executives posing with presidents, councillors, and senators adorned the bulkheads. (I suspected the plaques were taken down and replaced regularly, a custom set installed for each voyage, depending on who happened to be on board.) The square worktable and displays were gone, and the common room now resembled the setting for an after-dinner club. Hatches were open the length of the ship, so we could see into the bridge and, in the opposite direction, the private cabins and workout area. Only the engineering compartment was closed.
There were four cabins on each side. Bonner opened one for our inspection. The appointments were right out of the Hotel Magnifico. Brass fittings, a fold-out bed that looked extraordinarily comfortable, another selbic chair (smaller, because of space limitations, than the ones in the common room, but lavish nonetheless), and a desk, with a comm link hookup.
The workout area would have accommodated two or even three people. You could run or cycle to your heart’s content through any kind of VR countryside, or lift weights, or whatever you liked. Maximum use of minimum area. It would have been nice to have something like that on the Belle-Marie.
“Evergreen has taken good care of the Polaris, ” Alex said, as we turned and walked back toward the bridge.
Bonner beamed. “Yes, we have. The Clermo has been maintained at the highest level. We’ve spared no effort, Mr. Kimball. None. I expect we’ll see many more years’ service from her.”
Good luck to him on that score. The ship had to be pretty much at the end of her life expectancy, with only a year or so left before her operational credentials would expire.
We went up onto the bridge. It’s amazing how much difference the brass makes.
Although I knew Belle was state-of-the-art, the Clermo just looked as if it could get you where you wanted to go safer and faster. Its Armstrong engines had, of course, been replaced by quantum technology. It felt snug and agreeable. I’d have liked a chance to take her out and tool around a bit.
There couldn’t have been much resemblance to the bridge Maddy English had known. Most of the gear had been updated, and the paneled bulkheads would never have found their way onto a Survey ship. Nevertheless, this was the space she’d occupied. It was the place from which the last transmission had been sent.
“Departure imminent. Polaris out.”
She’d been right about that.
“Notice the calibrated grips,” Bonner was saying. “And the softened hues of the monitors. In addition-” He seemed unaware of why the ship was interesting.
Maddy had been preparing to enter Armstrong space, so the six passengers would have been belted down, probably in the common room, possibly in their quarters. “If you were the pilot of this ship,” Alex asked me when we had a moment, “would it make a difference to you?”
“No. Irrelevant. Whatever they like, as long as the restraints are in place.”
“Anything else you’d like to see?” asked Bonner, who was watching me as if he thought I might try to make off with something.
“Yes,” said Alex, “I wonder if we could take a look belowdecks.”
“Certainly.” He led the way down the gravity tube, and we wandered through the storage area. The lander bay was located immediately below the bridge. Bonner opened the hatch to the smaller vehicle, and we looked in. The lander was a Zebra, top of the line. “New,” I said.
“Yes. We’ve replaced it several times. Most recently just last year.”
“Where’s the original?” Alex asked. “From the Polaris? ”
He smiled. “It’s on display at Sabatini.” Foundation headquarters.
I caught Alex’s eyes as we stood beside the lander. Had he seen what he was looking for?
He signaled no. Either no he hadn’t, or no, don’t say anything.
We strolled out through the airlock. A lone technician was doing something to one of the fuel tanks, and Bonner peeled off to talk to him. When he was out of earshot, Alex asked how difficult it would be for a passenger to seize control of a ship. “I’m talking about getting the AI to take direction,” he said.
That was simple enough. “All you’d have to do, Alex, is to get logged on to the AI response list. But the captain would have to do it.”
“But Belle will take direction from me.”
“You own the ship.”
Bonner caught up with us and asked whether we’d found everything we needed.
“Oh, yes,” said Alex. “It was an exquisite experience.”
“I’m pleased to hear it.”
“One more question, if you don’t mind, Emory.” Alex was in his charm mode.
“When Evergreen first acquired the Clermo, do you know whether anything left by the original Survey passengers was found on board? Any personal items?”
Well, that one floored him, and he didn’t mind letting us see it. “That’s sixty years ago, Mr. Kimball. Before my time.”
Right. Nothing that had happened before this guy was born could be of any consequence. “I understand that,” Alex said. “But artifacts from an historic ship are valuable.”
“I was under the impression,” he said, “that Survey scoured the ship when it originally came back.”
“Nevertheless, they might have overlooked something. If they did, it would be worthwhile to know about it, and I suspect somebody at Evergreen would have been smart enough to hang on to it.”
“I assume you’re right, Mr. Kimball. But I just have no way of knowing.”
“Who would know?”
He led the way into an exit tube. “Somebody at the Sabatini office might be able to help.”
“Thanks,” Alex said. “One final thing.” He showed him a picture of Teri Barber.
“Have you ever seen this woman?”
He squinted at it and arranged to look unimpressed. “No,” he said. “I’m afraid I don’t know her. Should I?”
We caught the ground-side transport and transferred to a flight to Sabatini. Alex sat staring out at the clouds. We’d been in the air only a half hour when the pilot warned us of turbulence ahead. Within minutes we sailed into heavy weather and started to sway. Alex made a comment about the storm, how it looked pretty dark out there. I said yes it did and asked whether he still thought Walker was involved.
“No question about it.”
“How could that be? We know they couldn’t have taken Maddy and the passengers aboard the Peronovski. Are you suggesting Alvarez lied?”
“No. Alvarez appeared before the Trendel Commission. He tested out, so we know he kept nothing back. But they never checked Walker. No reason to.”
“But they couldn’t smuggle seven people onto Alvarez’s ship and maintain them without his knowing.”
“That’s the way it looks.”
“It’s impossible.” I took a deep breath as raindrops began to splatter against the windows. “Not only couldn’t it be done without the captain’s knowledge, it couldn’t be done at all. We’ve been over this. There’s no way the Peronovski could have supported nine people.”
He took a deep breath, sighed, but said nothing.
“There might be another possibility,” I said.
“Go ahead.”
“We’ve been assuming the conspirators were a majority. Pretty much everybody except Dunninger.”