From somewhere, near or far, came a strange, creaking rumble. Liddy grabbed his arm. “Bony.”
“I don’t know what it was. Wait a few seconds.”
It took considerably more than that. Maybe two whole minutes passed before the grinding rumble came again. But this time Bony recognized it for what it was: A motor at work, irising open a sealed hatch. It was another few seconds before the gap was visible, but now the wait did not seem long. Soon they heard a hiss of air.
Half a minute more, and the hatch was fully open. The water level in the vertical part of the L-section dropped a meter, then steadied. Bony and Liddy stepped through the hatch, and waited until it closed.
Liddy reached out and gave Bony a nervous hug. The inner hatch still had to go through its cycle, but the hard work was over. They were, at last, about to enter a Pipe-Rilla vessel.
They were going to meet Stellar Group aliens.
16: LINKING TO THE GEYSER SWIRL
The Hero’s Return was no longer a military ship, yet Chan Dalton assumed its affairs would run with at least a semblance of military precision.
He had been watching the clock. The time for leaving Ceres orbit was set for midnight. As soon as that departure took place, Deb Bisson would be unable to leave the ship. She would be forced to travel to the Link entry point, and from there to the Geyser Swirl.
He had checked that Deb was aboard and in prime living quarters, but to avoid meeting her he had moved hundreds of meters away, hiding far forward in an empty region once occupied by a major weapons system. As soon as the ship was heading out he planned to go aft and find her.
But midnight had come and gone, and the Hero’s Return floated in space as silent as a ghost ship. After ten frustrating minutes Chan started aft. Something had gone wrong, and he needed to find out what.
The first person he met was Elke Siry. She was heading forward, though he knew of nothing that lay in that direction. She would have moved past him had he not stood in her way.
He spread his arms wide to block the narrow passageway. “Do you know why departure has been delayed?”
She frowned at him, pale brows shadowing her icy blue eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“We were supposed to leave at midnight. It’s almost twelve-fifteen, and we haven’t moved. Why?”
Instead of answering his question, she ducked under his arm and eased past him in the corridor. “Come with me.”
Chan, baffled, followed. In seventy meters they were at the extreme forward end of the ship. Elke led him on, through a narrow round hatch into a bubble of transparent plastic.
“This is where I was going anyway,” she said. “It’s the bow observation port. There’s no better place to look at the stars, and see what’s ahead of the ship.”
She spoke as though her words provided some kind of explanation. Chan was about to voice his frustration when he followed her pointing finger.
“Ceres,” she said. The biggest of all the asteroids loomed large to the right of the Hero’s Return . It was sliding rapidly backward, as though its orbital motion took it in that direction. But its sunlit hemisphere was also to the rear. That implied Ceres was dropping directly toward the Sun.
Chan turned to Elke, and found her watching him with a superior expression. “No, Ceres isn’t moving sunward,” she said. “We’re moving away from the Sun. We’re heading for the Asteroid Belt’s closest Link entry point, three and a half million kilometers farther out. The drive was turned on precisely at midnight.”
“But I didn’t feel a thing.”
“Because the Hero’s Return was designed as a military ship. The engines can produce acceleration bursts of up to twenty-five gees. That would kill the crew if you didn’t do anything about it, so anywhere that the crew might be was equipped with inertia shedders. We’ll never reach those levels of acceleration, of course, but even two gees would be uncomfortable. General Korin thought we might as well get the benefit of the shedders.”
“I can’t hear the drive. Surely we ought to, even this far forward.”
“Do you know what engine noise signifies?” When Chan merely shrugged, she went on. “Engine noise — noise of any kind — is a warning flag for inefficiency . Noise doesn’t help the drive to work. It doesn’t provide useful information on engine status. It’s not something a designer aims to produce. Quite the opposite. In a mechanical system, noise and excess heat tell you that you are wasting energy. In a military ship it is worse than that. Noise and heat can also announce the ship’s presence to an enemy. Hence, the engines of this ship were made as efficient — and noise-free — as possible. If you do hear anything, it’s a sure sign that something is going wrong.”
Her manner was so loaded with condescension and cool contempt that the temptation to argue was almost irresistible. Was she looking for a fight? Or was this her normal way of dealing with mere mortals?
Just now, Chan did not have the time to find out. He had asked Danny Casement to say nothing until he, Chan, had the chance to talk to Deb Bisson. But silence became harder for Danny as time went on and other team members wondered why they had not yet seen the Bun on board.
“Thank you, Dr. Siry. I promise I’ll come back later and take a better look.” Chan managed a smile and hurried out of the observation chamber. At the hatch he turned to ask, “Do you know when we are scheduled for transition?”
“Of course.” Raised eyebrows, at so elementary a question. “Link entry will take place seven and a half hours from now.”
“Thank you.” After the first show of gratitude, the next one came easier. Chan resisted the urge to say more and began the long trip aft. The trouble with Elke Siry’s superiority complex was that it appeared to be justified. Chan had wondered after their last meeting if she might be some sort of ringer, planted on the team as a supposed scientist because of her relationship to General Korin. He had done a data download, and decided that if Elke were a plant the job had been done thoroughly. The records showed a full life story, from child prodigy in mathematics and music, to original discoveries in theoretical physics by the time she was seventeen. Now, at twenty-five, her list of important contributions spilled over into three digits.
What was so valuable a scientist doing on this high-risk expedition? Maybe Korin had talked her into it, but Chan doubted that. There were hints in the record not only of a formidable brain, but just as formidable a will. What Elke wanted, Elke got. She was here because she was interested in the Geyser Swirl, and the mystery of the new Link entry point.
Chan was coasting along the corridor that ran as a central axis for the full length of the Hero’s Return . It was the main artery for personnel movement back and forth along the ship, and in the vessel’s military past there must have been people bustling through the thoroughfare all the time. Today he heard nothing and saw no one. About the halfway point he came to the old fire control room that sat at the protected heart of the ship. It too was empty, and he passed it by. This was where the ship’s navigation system would take care of all actions on the way to Link entry, swapping flight data with stations on Ceres and the Jovian moons; only the final choice would require a human decision: enter the Link, or decline to do so? It occurred to Chan that perhaps this was the choice that humans were least qualified to make. He recognized in himself the tendency to say, we’ve come so far, we can’t possibly change our minds now. People following that philosophy died climbing mountains, they signed disastrous contracts, they flew into hurricanes, and they embarked on lifelong commitments to the wrong mates. Perhaps they headed to the stars for the same reason.
The width of the ship narrowed as he moved aft. It was down from a maximum of seventy meters in its central part to maybe forty. He was beyond the old captain’s quarters, beyond Dag Korin’s chosen suite, into the region which had in the old days been reserved for visiting VIPs. Korin himself had placed Chrissie Winger and Tarbush in suites there, and the other team members had asked to be close by. Team members. Let’s hope you could still call them that after his meeting with Deb Bisson.