There were none. A few raised eyebrows and cold looks at first, but the Prime Minister led the way by turning out his pockets and showing the contents of his wallet. It had obviously been staged that way, but was important nevertheless. The safety of the Holger Danske was not to be compromised.
As the line moved forward slowly, Martha Hansen found herself paralyzed with fear. She would be discovered and disgraced, and if there had been any place to run to she would have gone at once. But, stumbling, she could only follow the others. UUa was saying something, and she could only nod dumbly in answer. Then she was at the counter and a tall, stern-faced customs officer was facing her. He slowly reached his hand out.
“This is a great day for your husband, Fru Hansen,” he said. “Might I… ?” He gestured toward her purse. She extended it.
“If you will just open it,” he said.
She did so, and he poked through it.
“Your compact,” he said, pointing. She handed it to him and he snapped it open, closed, and returned it.
The glittering eye of the camera brooch pointed directly at him. For a long moment he looked at it, smiling.
“That is all, thank you.” And he turned away.
The Rasmussens were waiting, and Nils was waving from the deck above. She raised her hand, waved back. They went aboard.
Martha held her purse before her, one finger on her new brooch, wondering what she would say to Nils if he noticed it. She need not have worried about it. Normally the calmest of men while on duty, he was not so today. He had his hands clasped behind his back—perhaps to calm them—but his eyes were bright with excitement.
“Martha, this is the day!’* he said, embracing her, lifting her free of the deck for a moment while he kissed her. With passion. She was dizzy when he put her down.
“My goodness…” she said.
“Have you seen this giant of a barge? Isn’t she a dream? There has been nothing like it since the world began. We could carry poor little Blaeksprutten as a lifeboat, honestly! The best part is that this is not a makeshift or a compromise, but a vessel designed only for use with the Daleth drive. My bridge is right out in the leading edge for lateral movement, just like an aircraft, yet has full visibility both up and down for acceleration and deceleration. Come on—let me show it to you. All except the engine room, that’s locked up while visitors are aboard. And if we had the time I would damn well show you my bedroom as well as my cabin.” He put his arm about her as they walked. “Martha, after flying this beauty everything is changed. I think now that flying the biggest aircraft would be like, I don’t know, like pedaling a kiddy car. Come on!”
As they walked through the open spacelock her finger touched the golden whorl on her brooch and she felt it depress slightly.
She hated herself.
22
“Aren’t they all aboard yet?” Arnie asked, looking out at the wharf from the high vantage point of the bridge. Two men came out of the customs shed, bending over and holding their homburgs down with their hands as the Baltic wind whipped around them. The porters, with their suitcases, came after them.
“Not yet, but we should be nearing the end,” Nils told him. “TU check with the purser.” He dialed the office in the entrance hallway, and the small telephone screen lit up with full color image of the chief purser.
“Sir?”
“How is your head count going?”
The purser consulted his charts, ticking them off with a pencil. “Six more passengers to go, and that’s the lot.”
“Thanks.” He hung up. “Not too bad. Considering that they are doing everything but x-ray them and examine the fillings in their teeth. I suppose that I’ll be hearing plenty of complaints. Ship captains never appear among the passengers until after the first day at sea. I think maybe I’ll try that.”
“With the new computer setup I imagine that you do not have to worry about your exact take-off time?”
“There’s nothing to it.” He patted the gray cabinet of the computer readout near his pilot’s position. “I tell this thing when I want to leave and it gets the answer back almost before we’re through typing. While we are in dock it is plugged into a direct land line to Moscow. After takeoff our computer talks to theirs and there are constant course and velocity checks and corrections.”
They watched another late arrival hurry across the wharf.
“Were the Americans upset about our using the Soviet computer?” Arnie asked.
“I suppose so, but they couldn’t complain because we had no simple line connections to theirs. But we are using only U.S. spacesuits so it evens out. Done on purpose, I’m sure. How was Ove when you saw him?”
Arnie shrugged. “Still in bed, coughing like a seal, still with a fever. I waved from the door, he would not let me come in. He wished us the best of luck. The flu went to his chest.”
“I’m glad you could take his place—though I’m sorry we had to ask you. As soon as all the bugs are ironed out we won’t be needing physicists in the engine room anymore.”
“I do not mind. In fact I enjoy it. Research and teaching are going to be very tame after some of these flights. Like Blaeksprutten to the Moon…”
“With the telephone box welded to the hull! God, those were the days. Look how far we have come.” He waved around the expanse of the bridge, at the uniformed crewmen on duty. The radio operator, talking to control ashore, the navigator, second pilot, instrumentation operator, computer mate. It was an impressive sight. The phone sounded and he answered it.
“All passengers aboard, Captain.”
“Fine. Prepare for take-off in ten minutes.”
Arnie was in the engine room for take-off, and in all truth he found very little to do. The crewmen were respectful enough, but they knew their jobs well. The Daleth drive had been automated to the point where the computer monitored it, and human attention was almost redundant. And the same was true of the fusion generator. When Arnie was hungry he had some food sent in, although he knew that he had been invited to the first night banquet. That he would avoid, with good reason, since he loathed this kind of affair. He was only too glad to help out and to take Ove’s place, when his friend was ill, but he did not really enjoy it The laboratory at Manebasen interested him far more, the new line of research he had started, and the classes he held in Daleth theory for the technicians.
And then there were the passengers. He had the list, and it did not take too much honesty to admit that this was the real reason he stayed sealed in the operating section. He had found no friends or associates among the scientists, they were all second-rate people for the most part. Not second rate, that wasn’t fair, but juniors—assistants to the important people. As though the universities of the world were not trusting their top minds to this unorthodox endeavor. Well, it did not matter. The young men could take observations as well as the old, and the raw facts and figures they returned with would have the others clamoring for a place on the next mission. Making a start, that was what counted.
As to the others, the politicians, he knew nothing about them. There were very few names he had ever heard before. But then, he was not the most careful of political observers. Probably all second consuls and that sort of thing, trying the water temperature this first trip so their betters could take a plunge later on.
But he knew one politician. He must face the fact—this was why he was staying away from the passenger section. But what good was it doing? General Avri Gev was aboard and he would have to meet him sooner or later. Arnie looked at his watch. Why not now? They would all be full of good food and drink. Perhaps he would catch Avri in a good mood. Knowing that this was impossible even as he thought it. But the entire voyage to Mars would take less than two days—and he was not going to spend all of the time skulking down here.