Engage reverse gear.
Maintain speed at five centimeters per second.
Strain gauges and vibration sensors immediately began reporting data. Comparing their inputs to the structural diagnostics program, the central computer decided to proceed.
Titan Alpha lurched into painfully slow motion, backing away from the rim of the ice bluff, grinding over small round pebbles of ice, heading away from the dark encrusted sea.
In the control center aboard Goddard, Urbain stared at the satellite view in unrelieved horror.
“It’s moving,” he whispered, barely able to get enough air through his throat to speak.
“Dead slow,” said the engineer.
“But we didn’t command it to move. No one told it to move.”
The engineer nodded. “It’s taking off on its own.”
“But how? Why?”
“Damned if I know,” said the engineer. “The big question is, where’s it going?”
Da’ud Habib leaned in beside Urbain, his dark eyes intent on the display screen. Urbain saw that the computer engineer looked slightly disheveled: His hair was glistening wet, his shirt hanging outside his trousers.
As if he could read Urbain’s face, Habib apologized, “Please excuse my appearance. I was in the shower when I was told that Alpha is moving.”
“What do you make of it?” Urbain whispered tightly.
Habib shook his head slowly. “It must be something in the programming. It has to be.”
“But what?”
“The learning subroutines. We built learning capability into the master program so that it could react to unexpected conditions down on the surface.”
Urbain hissed, “I am aware of that.”
“Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe it’s making its own decisions and ignoring our commands.”
“Nonsense! Impossible!”
Habib fell silent before Urbain’s glaring eyes.
“Can you disable the learning subroutines?” Urbain asked. “To test your theory?”
“I can try. But if it’s not responding to our commands—”
“Bah! There must be a flaw in the programming.”
“I haven’t been able to find it,” Habib admitted. “Not yet.”
Urbain glared at him. “Well, you had better find it, whatever it is, before my Alpha blunders into a disaster.”
28 December 2095: Nightfall
Pancho and Wanamaker strolled slowly through the shadows along the winding path down by the lake. The habitat’s broad circle of solar windows was slowly closing for the night. The effect was like a long twilight shading off into the darkness of night. Up the gentle rise, Pancho could see the low white-walled buildings of Athens.
“Smell the flowers,” Wanamaker said, taking in a deep breath. “The air’s like perfume.” Even speaking softly, his voice had a rough, almost abrasive edge to it.
“You’re getting to be a real romantic, Jake,” she said, smiling at him.
“Always have been,” he replied. “Only, there weren’t many flowers to smell in a submarine or a spacecraft.”
Pancho nodded. “I guess.”
“Not even in Selene,” he added.
“’Cept for Martin Humphries’s mansion, down on the bottom level. But that’s gone now.”
Wanamaker nodded. Then, pointing overhead, he said, “Look at the lights up there. They look like constellations.”
They both knew the lights were from other villages and roadways. Yet in the darkness of the encroaching night Pancho had to admit they did seem to form shapes. She made out something that looked sort of like a lopsided spider. And maybe a tulip.
He slid his strong arm around her waist and she leaned against him. But then the rational side of her mind spoke up.
“The human brain wants to make patterns,” Pancho said. “Part of our makeup. I remember back when I was chairman of the board at Astro, I’d sit in meetings and see patterns in the grain of the board room’s paneling.”
“Must’ve been really interesting meetings,” Wanamaker said, chuckling softly.
“Meetings of the b-o-r-e-d,” she spelled. “Some were worse’n others.”
“You know what I wonder about,” he said, still holding her as they walked unhurriedly along the path.
“What?”
“We’re ten times farther from the Sun than the Earth is, yet when the solar windows are open the daylight in here is as bright as on Earth. The mirrors outside must be built to focus the sunlight, concentrate it.”
“You can ask Holly about that.”
“Or call up the habitat schematics when we get back to our place.”
So much for the romantic, Pancho thought.
“Whatcha you think of Holly’s boy toy?” she asked.
“Tavalera? He seems like a nice enough kid. Not much of a conversationalist, though.”
“He’s working with Kris in the nanotech lab. I’ll have to ask her about him.”
“Being the protective big sister?”
Pancho felt her face warp into a frown. “I know Holly’s all grown up and livin’ her own life, but still …”
“Still, you want to talk to Dr. Cardenas.”
“Won’t hurt.”
They walked along slowly in silence for a while, passing the lamps spaced evenly along the edge of the bricked path. Pancho stared at the lights overhead, content to let Wanamaker steer her with a gentle pressure on her waist. That’s land up there, she reminded herself. Not sky. This whole place is just a big hunk of machinery, made to look and feel and even smell like Earth. Except that we’re inside it, not on the surface.
“Pancho?” Wanamaker asked softly.
“Yeah?”
“What about your life? What are your plans?”
She knew he meant “our lives.” She knew he wanted to be with her; at least she hoped he did. She found herself wondering if she’d want to be with him on a permanent basis.
“Damfino, Jake. For the first time in my life I got no responsibilities and enough money to do whatever the hell I feel like doin’, pretty much. And for the first time in my life I really don’t know which way I want to go.”
He replied with a nod.
“One thing’s for sure, though,” Pancho heard herself say.
“What’s that?”
“Wherever I go, I want you right there with me.”
He wrapped his other arm around her and kissed her soundly on the lips, while she realized that she truly meant what she’d said. Jeeps, she thought as she kissed him back, I really love this guy.
They started climbing the easy slope of the path, the office buildings and garden apartments of Athens on either side of the bricked street. In the shadows Pancho heard Wanamaker chuckling softly.
“What’s funny?” she asked.
“Oh, I was just thinking about your staying here on a permanent basis.”
“And that’s funny?”
“Not funny, really. But I can see you taking over this habitat. By the time they hold their next elections you’ll be running for the top slot. You’ll be chief administrator in a few months.”
The idea left a sour taste in her mouth. “I’m not runnin’ for any office,” she said firmly. “I spent enough years behind a desk tellin’ people what to do.” Then she added mischievously, “The only person I want to boss around is a certain retired admiral.”
Wanamaker made a little bow. “Hearkening and obedience, O queen of my heart.”
Pancho grabbed him by both ears and kissed him again. Damn hard not to love this lug, she thought.
Timoshenko sat alone in his apartment and pondered the events of his day. Aaronson had been more than willing to hand off the responsibilities for exterior maintenance, as Timoshenko had expected. The man isn’t a drone, he told himself, not exactly. But he’s quite content to get rid of the responsibility and let it fall on my shoulders. After all, if there’s any real, physical danger to this orbiting sewer pipe it will come from outside.