She put on the HV and got a shock: The FBI had held a press conference and named the suspected bomber in the Gremlin incident. It was Leon.
That was simply not possible. He was a friend. She’d shared meals with him and knew he would never deliberately injure anyone. But she remembered the evening on which there’d been the altercation in Skydeck. Still, it could not have been him. The interstellar pilots and techs had a sacred bond of sorts, a commitment to one another that everything was secondary to the safety of their passengers and each other. The notion that one of them would deliberately put a bomb on a ship was counter to everything she’d come to believe.
She shook her head. Can’t trust anybody. But she just couldn’t buy it.
* * *
SHE CHECKED HER link, hoping to see a message from, maybe, Interstellar Transport attempting to buy her away from Kosmik. But there was nothing. She got up and looked out the window at the McClellands’ house across the street, clothed in darkness. A three-quarter Moon was framed just over its roof.
Even now it was hard to believe she’d walked on its surface.
* * *
SHE GOT A call from Wally Brinkman that afternoon. She and Wally had run an on-again off-again romance over the past year. Wally had been shocked that past summer when she’d announced her intention to leave Princeton. “Princeton?” he’d said. “Priscilla, you’re going to be leaving Earth. You really sure you want to do that?”
Wally had gone into investment banking. He was a good guy, but he thought life was exclusively about money. That was what his education had been for. He’d told her that she could do much better at home. “There’s no money in piloting,” he said. “For one thing, even if you had some resources to start with, you’re too far away from everything to be able to keep up with what’s going on. So you have to trust somebody else to manage your investments.” He’d shaken his head. “It’s just a shortsighted way to do things.”
“So, Wally,” she said, when his face blinked onto the screen, “how is it going?”
“Just fine,” he said. Just fine was a kind of mantra with Wally, who didn’t believe in putting his emotions on display. “I see you’re a hero now. Well done.” Big smile.
“Well,” she said, “it was really Jake Loomis and Captain Miller who were the heroes. All I did was mind the ship.”
Wally had black curly hair that was never quite trimmed properly. He liked to portray himself as a guy who didn’t worry about details, who played for the big score. She was saddened that he always seemed fearful of being himself. “Modesty,” he said, “is one of the signs of true greatness.” His smile suggested he was kidding, but not really.
“No,” she said. “I was never in danger. It was the two captains who took their chances. And a teacher.”
“Yeah, I heard about all that. Heard about Loomis.” His tone hardened.
“What did you hear?”
“That he stood by and let the other guy go down to the chamber where they didn’t have any oxygen.”
“Wally, that’s not exactly what happened.”
“Okay. I’m just repeating what I’m hearing.”
“Who’s saying that?”
“I saw it on the talk shows.” A chill touched her heart. “Are you saying that’s not the way it happened?”
“It’s not. It isn’t that simple, Wally.”
“Okay. I’ve never trusted the media anyhow. Listen, the reason I called, I wanted you to know I was really glad to hear that you’d got through all that and were coming home for a while. How long are you going to be here?”
“I’m not sure. Probably just a few days.”
“When you go back, will you be stationed somewhere?”
She smiled. “I assume I’ll be somewhere, yes.”
“But not anywhere near Princeton?”
“Probably not.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear it.” He appeared uncertain. “I was wondering if I could take you to dinner tomorrow evening? Maybe we could go to Talbott’s?”
She heard cars pulling up outside. “Sure, Wally. I’d enjoy that. What time?”
“Pick you up at seven?”
“See you then.”
* * *
THE HOUSE AI was George. George was her grandfather on her mother’s side, but no one had ever claimed he’d been the reason for the name. She’d met an old boyfriend of Mom’s once with the name. “Reporters, Priscilla,” George said.
“Okay.” Two cars had parked in the driveway. They carried emblems from Worldwide News and CBC. Central Jersey News was pulling alongside the curb as she opened the door. “I’ve got it,” she said. Several reporters were hurrying up the walkway. “Hello,” she said.
They all began speaking at once. The first to get through to her was a tall, African-American woman. “Hi, Priscilla,” she said. “I’d like your take on what happened to Captain Miller. Did they cut the cards to see who’d go into the cargo bay? Or what? How did they make the decision?”
“Look,” she said. “It wasn’t anything like that. Nobody knew Captain Miller was going to take his life. We were still trying to figure out what to do.”
“So he just did it?” said a guy who looked too young to be out of high school. “He didn’t warn anybody what he was going to do? He just killed himself?”
“I can tell you that we had just gotten the news that we wouldn’t have enough air, and we were trying to figure out what we would do. Why don’t you ask me why I stood by and let it happen?” Priscilla knew it was a mistake before the words were out of her mouth.
“Why did you?” asked another of the reporters. A large male this time.
“Let me try again,” she said. “I didn’t know what he intended to do. Nobody did.”
“Can you tell us where Jake Loomis is now?”
“I have no idea.”
“You must have known someone was going to have to fall on his sword. Was it a choice between either Loomis or Miller?”
“Hey,” said a female reporter off to one side. “Give her a break. What the hell are you people doing?”
Priscilla handled the other questions about as well as could be expected. She gave credit to Jake and Shahlah, and said that the girls had been exemplary. “They were in a scary situation when we got there, but they kept cool. Couldn’t have been better.” She stood out there in front of the house, not dressed for November weather, not feeling the cold though, not even aware it was cold because all she could think of was how she was coming across and what a terrible politician she’d have made. “As for Captain Miller,” she said finally, “we owe him everything.”
More cars arrived and finally her mother realized what was going on and came out and called a halt. It was the perfect finish: Here’s the intrepid interstellar captain, or captain-to-be, facing suspicion of cowardice, and she needs her mother to bail her out.
* * *
THEY RAN THE clip a few minutes later. Priscilla’s mother was furious. “What’s wrong with these people?” she demanded. “Didn’t they ever hear of chivalry? Anyhow, it’s the captain’s responsibility.”
“Mom, I was technically the captain.”
“Loomis was your senior officer.”
Priscilla had to swallow her frustration. “Let it go, Mom, all right?”
Her mother sighed, sat back in her chair, and crossed her arms. “I’m sorry. I certainly didn’t want to offend you.”