The Hofleiter was capable of making ultraviolet, optical, and near-infrared observations over wavelengths from 115 to 1010 nanometers. It carried two spectrographs, a high-speed photometer, a wide-field Advanced Charge-Coupled Device, and a fine guidance sensor. Its primary mission was to map the Venusian atmosphere, to track its turbulence, and thereby to contribute to a better understanding of terrestrial weather patterns.
Now they had permission to retarget. It was a process they did only with reluctance. In planetary atmospheric observations, continuity was everything. Sequence and development mattered. But a second message from Feinberg had forced their hand:
PROBABLE COMET. VERY LARGE HALO.
A comet.
Tory was delighted. It was always exciting to be in on a discovery like this, even if credit would go to Tomiko What's-her-name in St. Louis. But if it was a comet, it would orbit the Sun and go back out the way it had come. Which meant it might not be visible to the naked eye for several months, until Earth had traveled to the other side of its orbit.
But that raised a question: Why had no one noticed it, say, last October, when it was on its way in and Earth was on the far side of the Sun?
"Ready," she told Windy.
"Do it."
She'd already entered the comet's coordinates and had only to activate. This she did with a flourish, and she and her supervisor watched the monitors blank out. The orbiter would need several minutes to shift on its axis, realign, and focus.
"It's probably because it isn't very bright," said Windy. "Happens all the time."
"All the time?"
"Well, occasionally."
Images started to come in. The definition adjusted, and they saw it! "Comet Tomiko," said Tory.
Windy grinned. "Stay with it," he said. "Eventually you'll get one of your own."
She increased magnification. "Not much of a tail." It was gauzy. Barely perceptible.
Windy shook his head. "I wonder if we've seen it before."
Tory called up the register for regularly recurring comets and initiated a search.
"Negative," she said after a time. "We don't know this one."
CHAPTER TWO
Tuesday, April 9
1.
Moonbase, Director's Dining Room. 7:15 A.M.
Charlie heard about the comet at breakfast. He was with a dozen or so other special guests when Slade Elliott mentioned the subject. The comment was offhanded, of no particular significance. To Charlie, as well as to most of the other VIPs, a comet was a light in the sky that one might take a look at if one happened to be on a dark patch of road. But it struck him as appropriate that the information would come from the man who'd made his fortune playing the swashbuckling captain of a fictitious starship.
Evelyn took advantage of the breakfast to introduce Jack Chandler, who would be the first director of Moonbase. Chandler was stocky, intense, reserved. He did not look entirely comfortable shaking hands with the notables, but he radiated an air of quiet competence. He wouldn't have been worth a damn as a politician, but the vice president sensed he'd do all right as an administrator. What he'd need though, Charlie thought, would be a good public affairs advisor. Somebody like Rick. The director of Moonbase was going to become a political animal whether he wanted to or not.
As they were breaking up, Charlie cornered Evelyn. "I'd like a favor," he said.
"Name it."
"I want to go outside."
Sam Anderson lost most of his color and began to shake his head vigorously no. Charlie put on a bemused expression for the senior agent.
"On the surface?" asked Evelyn.
"Of course. On the surface."
She hesitated. "You have any experience with p-suits?"
Sam looked as if he were going to explode.
"Your people can show me," said Charlie.
"Mr. Vice President, we don't allow anyone to go out who isn't thoroughly familiar with the equipment."
"How long does it take to become thoroughly familiar?"
"Usually a few days. We do some training and administer a written test and a practical. And a physical."
Charlie sighed. "I'm not going to be here that long."
Evelyn smiled sympathetically. "What do you think they'd do to me if I lost a vice president?"
"Give you a medal."
She dazzled him with a brilliant smile. "I don't think so."
An aide had been trying to get her attention. She turned away momentarily, signed a clipboard, and then looked back at him. Her expression had grown very serious. "It is a risk," she said, "that I'd prefer not to take. May I ask why you wish to go out?"
Because it's something I've always wanted to do and this might be my only chance. "I might not get back here again," he said.
She looked at him for a long moment. "When do you want to do this foolish thing?"
Charlie felt like a boy confronting a disapproving teacher. How hard could it be to learn how to walk around in a pressure suit? "At your leisure," he said.
She sighed. "Understand, I do not think this is a good idea." She glanced at Sam, establishing her witness for the future inquest. "However," she added, "if I were you, I would also wish to go outside." She took his hand, and the grip was curiously electric. "We can do it now, if you like."
Yes, Charlie decided, he would like very much. He called Rick and directed him to cancel his morning's schedule. Rick was, of course, appalled.
Sam wasn't happy either. "I'm sorry, sir. I just can't allow it. It violates procedure."
"Relax, Sam," said Charlie. "I'll be fine."
Moonbase was an underground facility. The surface was nine floors up from the Director's Dining Room. Evelyn, Charlie, Sam, and Isabel took the elevator, which climbed the outside of the headquarters building, providing a panoramic view of Main Plaza. From this perspective, Moonbase resembled nothing so much as a vast park.
At the top level they passed along a winding corridor whose walls were decorated with a series of prints depicting Moonbase at various stages of construction. They stopped before a heavy metal door marked CAUTION-AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. An intercom was mounted on the wall. Evelyn keyed it, said her name, and the door opened.
They entered a long room filled with benches, equipment bins, cabinets, and racks. Pressure suits in various bright colors hung from overhead bars. A technician rose from a desk and stood by.
"We have several ground-level exits," Evelyn explained. "We're quite busy outside. Moonbase is still under construction, as you know. The crews are in and out all the time. And researchers. And our maintenance people. And occasional tourists." Here she brightened and pursed her lips.
The technician provided them with two p-suits. One was gold and the other, vermilion. Evelyn accepted the gold suit and removed her shoes. "You get the loud one," she smiled.
"Wait a minute," Charlie said. "I didn't intend for you to have to go out."
"Nobody goes out alone. We don't allow it."
It made sense. "Okay. But why not send someone else? I don't want to take up your time."
"It's my pleasure," she said.
"I'll need a suit, too," said Sam, looking resentful.
"Why?" said Charlie. "Who's out there to take a shot at me?"
"Sir, I don't see that it matters. It's dangerous and I wish you wouldn't do this."
"It's settled."
"I have to go along. It's in the regs."
"How familiar are you with the equipment?"
"Not much."
"Which means, in an emergency, how much good would you be?"
The muscles in Sam's jaws were rippling. "Not much."
"You might even become the emergency. Sit tight. Evelyn'll take care of me and we'll be back in a few minutes."
Evelyn gave him a quick course on procedure, which consisted mostly in not jiggling the suit's controls unnecessarily once they'd been set. She showed him how to modulate the air pressure, how to control the temperature, and how to use the radio. "Keep in mind the gravity differential," she said. "That's the real danger. There are lots of fissures, craters, cracks, you name it, for you to fall into. Keep your eyes open. The suit is tough, but it's still possible to punch a hole in it. Red light means you've got a problem and you should come back immediately. If you see a red light, they'll see it at the same time back here and they'll tell you to return. Anything like that happens, no argument, okay?"