Not long after her embarrassing confrontation with Professor Mosbach, they were wrapping up the laboratory aspect, finishing the prototype of the small power block. As Shareen assembled the last sandwich layers of the metallic-origami film that she had spent five days charging, Howard remained silent. Finally he drew out his pad and displayed a confusing wash of calculations. “I’ve broken down the physical and mathematical basis of what I think you’re doing in our project, Shareen. It’s necessary documentation.”
Shareen wouldn’t have bothered to do that, but she nodded. “Thanks. I doubt Mosbach would give us credit without all the paperwork.”
“It’s not just that. I want you to look at this: I think there’s a chance of an arcing discharge from the connectors of your new strips coupled with the old film.”
He showed the math to her, but she stared blankly. “You’re saying it won’t work? I thought you didn’t understand what we were doing.”
“I understand it better now that I’ve done the calculations and run models. I am somewhat concerned.”
Shareen didn’t want to take out her frustration on him. “What do you propose we do then? Our project is due in three days. I know the principle is sound.”
“I’m sure the principle is, but I’m worried about the details of its execution.”
He showed her the math again. Finally, she held up her hands. “I’m still waiting to hear your suggestion. What do we do?”
“I think we should try out the power block now before anyone sees. That way, we’ll have a chance to make adjustments if necessary.”
“All right.” She hooked up the leads, wanting to get this over with.
When she dumped the power block into the battery reservoir, the strips flickered, and a succession of popping noises was accompanied by blue-white sparks. Howard yanked the leads free. Acrid electrical smoke curled up from the block. Other students glanced at their lab station, but Shareen pretended nothing was wrong.
Embarrassed, she turned to Howard, expecting him to say “I told you so,” but instead he gave a matter-of-fact nod. “Good to know. Now let’s fix the glitch.” He gave her a small smile. “I have an idea for an insulation damper. If we work nonstop, we should be able to refold and connect the filmsheets, and make a functional power block before our deadline.”
Shareen felt stung, but he had been right. “Thanks, Howard. You prevented a disaster.” She drew a breath. “All right, let’s solve this.”
They worked in silence for more than an hour before Howard said, “I’ve never seen anyone better than you at making intuitive leaps, at coming up with amazing and unconventional ideas. But they still have to be implemented, and that takes attention to detail.”
Shareen groaned. “The tedious part. I’m not a detail person. Maybe big ideas aren’t always enough. I get impatient, cut corners. You’re the exact opposite. It never occurred to me that details could be as important as a leap of genius.”
His eyebrows rose slightly. “So… genius and detail are both required to make major progress. Good to know.”
This time, when Howard smiled she felt as if she were seeing him for the first time.
Even though she looked forward to being free of this maddening place and going back home to the Golgen skymine where she could do real work for a change, she wished Howard could go with her. He really was the best part of being at school on Earth.
“I learned something very important from that, Howard.” She touched his arm. “I learned that we make a pretty good team.”
ELEVEN
ELISA REEVES
Though her ship was faster than Garrison’s, the search was tedious. Elisa raced along the course her husband had set, making up for lost time in open space. But she had to wait for the ping from her bread crumb tracking devices, had to find the little beacon buoy that was automatically dropped off each time he changed course. Then she had to take readings, adjust her course, and head off again. It was so time-consuming.
Yet she didn’t consider giving up or letting him get away with her son—not for a minute.
She had found three bread crumbs already, and Garrison’s staggering path made no sense. If she could figure out where he was taking Seth, she could head there and intercept him. But his flight was erratic, zigzagging across space and out into nowhere. Why would he do that, unless he was trying to hide from her? Maybe he guessed that she was hunting for him. Yes, in some ways Garrison was a smart man. She clenched her jaw. In some ways, though, he was a fool.
Drifting near another bread crumb buoy, she projected where he was headed now. Garrison didn’t seem to be aiming for any particular star system, known Roamer outpost, Confederation planet, or even an Ildiran splinter colony. She activated her stardrive and headed after him again.
Her personal mission had consumed her for days. Though she’d remembered to bring work along—documents to review, processes to audit and, if possible, streamline—she hadn’t been able to focus on her job since racing away from Sheol. And she resented Garrison for that too.
By now, Lee Iswander would be making his case to the Roamer clans at Newstation. Normally, in his absence, Elisa would have taken charge of the lava-processing operations, but since she had to deal with this nonsense, he would have given the responsibility to Alec Pannebaker. She should have been his first choice.
Iswander couldn’t be allowed to think Elisa was not reliable, that she was one of “those” professional women who couldn’t balance family matters with business necessities. She didn’t want to be seen like that. She had worked too hard, devoted too much of her life, made too many sacrifices to get where she was.
All along she had thought Garrison was her partner with the same goals, who saw the same intensely bright Guiding Star—to use his silly Roamer metaphor.
While cruising along, not knowing how soon she might encounter the next shifting point, Elisa called up her personal image library and scrolled through to find a photo of Seth (not that she had forgotten what her own child looked like, thank you!). The first photo she found was a portrait of herself and Garrison, smiling as they held the one-year-old boy. Happy times. Elisa frowned when she saw it, recognizing the delusion in her eyes.
Without thinking, she deleted the image, scrolled through the library, and found another one of Garrison and Seth laughing as they ate some gelatinous pasta meal they had cooked together. She deleted the second image as well. When she finally took Seth back, she did not want her son to be able to view and remember enjoyable times with his father.
She found several more images of Garrison and Seth at different ages. Then two of herself and Garrison. She deleted them. Elisa didn’t need to be taunted by her mistakes. Even more photos of Garrison and Seth. What did he do, spend all of his time staging images? No wonder he hadn’t advanced far in his job.
But she couldn’t find any warm photos of just herself and Seth. And since Garrison was so keen to take images, he must have intentionally left her out. She finally uncovered several images of her son alone, which she kept. She studied the shape of Seth’s nose, the curve of his smile, tried to determine how much of his features looked like her. She saw hints of Garrison there too—that couldn’t be helped. Seth was her son, regardless. Elisa displayed the images on the cockpit screens. She could always use her imagination to place herself there alongside him, or splice some images together. It would be good enough.