“Just long enough,” he said. “We're going out to the shuttle in a few minutes, run through the countdown early then hold while the fueling is finished. We want to hit that window.”
“So do we up here. Believe you me. “
“Roger. I want to settle the transferral details now before link-up. Are we going to have any problems?”
Patrick's laugh was very cold. “That is all you're going to have. Two of us can't see so we'll have to be to wed. And we'll need walk-around bottles of air. “
“No problem. When we rendezvous Dee will get them to you. The configuration on this Orbiter has the airlock opening into the Cargo Bay. So we'll have to crack the doors to the bay so he can get out that way. They'll have to be open in any case, since two of your people are going to have to ride back there.
We are set up to carry only four in shirtsleeve environment.”
“I know. What do you plan to do?”
“Right now they are fixing two acceleration couches on pallets to go into the bay. The walk-arounds hold enough oxygen for two hours. We'll be on the ground before they run out.”
There was a continued silence after that, filled only with the gently hissing static. Then Patrick spoke again.
“Cookey, tell them to put in four couches. Just in case. Your cargo bay is as big as a barn, so there's plenty of room.”
“Positive — but we do have the room for two inside.”
“Do as I ask. Major. We may be In a hurry when we arrive. ft could very well be a matter of getting the hell out of there fast without worrying about cycling time through the airlock. “
“I read you, Prometheus.”
“Great. Now just get cracking and get your ass up here in that brick rockets hip. “
“Will do. We'll get four couches in. Dee and I are suiting up now. Next time we talk to you will be from the bird.” He broke the connection.
“They know, don't they?” Decosta asked.
“He knows something.”
“But how much? Does he know we been sitting here in ready since before his launch? Because we had so many aborted holds on the schedule flight that we had to hold again until after they took off.”
“Drop it, Dee, will you.” Cooke turned to look out of the sealed window at the pad. The bulk of the Space Shuttle stood out clearly, white plumes leaking from the relief valves. The winged form of the Orbiter itself appeared small clamped to the three torpedo-like rockets of the main fuel tank and the twin boosters. “We're doing a classified job and we got into it with our eyes open. They asked for volunteers for this one and we opened our mouths. They even gave us a chance to get out after we knew what the mission was. A lot of people maybe don't agree with us, but I think getting that package into orbit over Moscow will help peace in this world.”
“We agreed to that. We didn't agree to sit on our duffs and play pinochle instead of going up to help those people on Prometheus.”
“We're going, aren't we?”
“A little late, that's all. Maybe too late. They'll burn before we get there.”
“You shut up before I spread your Mex nose all over your face.”
“Not before I cut out your gringo heart and make tacos de corazon.”
The racial insults meant nothing; they were too good friends for that. They were just words used to cover up their real emotions, their real knowledge that they had permitted themselves to sit by without doing anything all this time. Until it was possibly too late to help.
41
GET 28:54
As soon as the President had left the Cabinet room, the Secretary of State leaned over to speak to Dillwater.
“Come on, Simon, I'll buy you a cup of coffee,” he said.
“I've had a good deal already, Dr. Schlocter, thank you.”
“Well a drink then, I don't think I have seen you have anything other than coffee all the time we have been in here.”
“I rarely drink spirits, but, yes, a small sherry perhaps.”
They walked past the table laden with sandwiches and coffee to the small portable bar which had been rolled in a few hours earlier. Bandin had felt in need of a few more large bourbons and had, he thought, covered this up by encouraging the others to drink as well. Schlocter poured out a Tio Pepe with a steady hand, then a vodka on the rocks with a twist of lemon peel for himself. He handed the sherry to Dillwater and raised his own glass.
“To a successful rescue mission,” he said.
“Yes, I will drink to that. But to very little else.”
“The President is a very occupied man, Simon, with more problems than you can perhaps understand.”
“Ever the peacemaker, Dr. Schlocter, are you not? But I am afraid there is little you can accomplish this time. I tendered my resignation to go into effect the instant those people are back on the ground. Or dead. Both the President and General Bannerman knew that the shuttle was available for a rescue mission — yet they did nothing until their hand was forced.”
He looked pointedly at Schlocter. “Did you know about it as well?”
“No, I did not, I am relieved to say. If I had I might have been as divided in mind and as concerned as the President was.”
“You will make me cry in a moment, Dr. Schlocter.”
“I appreciate the reasons for your irony, Simon, and I won't argue with them. But you should remember that the President has the larger job of being leader of this great nation, of guiding its destiny in war and peace. As long as there was even a slim chance that the engines could be started to lift Prometheus out of orbit he did not dare jeopardize our national security by canceling the PEEKABOO operation. The fate of a few sacrificed for the greater need of the many. The cleft stick that many statesmen are forced into.”
Dillwater looked into his empty sherry glass, then put it back onto the bar. The only signs of fatigue he had, after all these hours, were the tightened lines around his eyes. He drew himself up and spoke quietly and quickly so only Schlocter could near him.
“I come from a class and background in America, Dr. Schlocter, that has almost vanished. I was taught early not to use profanity and low language and I have followed that course through life because I found it the most agreeable way. However there are exceptions. What you say about President Bandin is the pure quill well-refined and first grade absolute bullshit. The man is a political opportunist who will sacrifice anything, anyone, to guarantee his re-election. Morally he makes Mr. Nixon look like a choir boy.”
Schlocter nodded seriously, listening to the words as though they were some highly refined argument.
“Yet you took a position in his administration? Knowing what you did about — shall we say — his moral drawbacks?”
“I did. He needed me as a member of what is called the Liberal East Coast Establishment to get him some votes. I felt that NASA was important enough on its own to justify my aid.”
“Then what has changed?” Schlocter drove home the points of his arguments with slow shakes of his forefinger. “The President is the same person you always knew he was. And NASA and the Prometheus Project are even more badly in need of your expertise and aid than they were when you first joined.”
“My mind is made up. I have resigned. I cannot beany part of a government that that man is the head of.”
“Think again, if you please. I have been talking to Moscow and we are agreed that Prometheus must go on, whatever happens now. Too much has been invested, the need for energy is too great — “
“And Bandin needs re-election too badly.”
“Precisely. You are probably the only person who can see the project through to completion.” He raised his hand before Dillwater could speak. “Do not answer now, please. Think about it. I will talk to you again, later. Now, I believe, yes — isn't that your phone that is ringing?”