Launch (4 page)

On the night of the Beverly Hills reception, Claire’s
all-sounds doorbell announced David’s presence with the “aaooogah” sound of a
1920’s car horn. He wore his Air Force mess dress uniform, resplendent with the
gold leaves of a major, medals, and senior pilot wings. She was in a strapless
gown of silk as lustrous as a white pearl, complemented by a matching pearl choker.
They smiled broadly when they saw each other and simultaneously exclaimed,
“Wow!”

She recovered her composure first. “Thank you,
Buni. You’re very handsome.”

“Your perfume is fantastic,” he said as he draped
her wrap over her shoulders.

“Thank you. It’s a gift from Joanne.”

They walked to the waiting limousine, and the
chauffeur held the door open for them to join Joanne and Michael.

▼

Claire was pleased to meet many famous
Hollywood celebrities at the reception. Bob Drake, CEO of Phaeton Studios, and
other men with less authentic credentials, invited her to take a screen test.
She politely demurred.

After dinner, Michael went to the center of the
stage and spoke in the microphone. “On behalf of the Wildlife Fund, welcome.

“A few weeks ago, you watched a beautiful young
woman climb down a wall of the Grand Canyon and rescue a cougar cub. Her wits
and her courage were the only equipment she had and the only equipment she
needed. Tonight you have discovered she is as charming as she is brave.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my honor to
introduce Ms. Claire Sommer.”

The capacity audience applauded enthusiastically.
Each of the giant screens overhead and beside the stage showed an enlarged
image of Claire walking to center stage.

When she reached the microphone, she smiled at
Michael and said, “Oh, wow! So that’s how you got your Academy Awards.”

Michael and the audience laughed.

“I love animals,” Claire said. “When I was a
kid, I liked to pretend I was a cat. Mom didn’t much like all the meowing and
purring and yowling at all hours of the day and night. . . . But what she
really hated was stepping barefoot on my wet hairballs.”

The audience laughed.

“Everyone here tonight is making an extra
effort to try to help preserve wildlife. On behalf of those who cannot speak
for themselves, I thank you.

“You know that the creatures sharing this planet
with us are in grave danger. Our burgeoning population is consuming and
obliterating resources that wildlife needs to survive, and species are being
exterminated at a breathtaking rate.

“We will miss the beauty and grace of tigers
and cheetahs in the wild, and we will miss other plants and animals that cease
to exist forever. Without what they give us, more people will die prematurely.”

She paused as the audience murmured assent. Starting
with the most recent, the giant overhead screens began to scroll a list of
species with the word EXTINCT in red beside each one.

“Our planet’s sustainable resources are already
inadequate to meet the needs of our soaring human population. Preventable
deaths—the unspeakable horrors of starvation, dehydration, preventable disease,
wars over diminishing resources, and genocide—increase relentlessly as we
multiply exponentially.

“Yesterday, thousands of people, including
thousands of children, died from preventable and curable waterborne diseases.
Thousands more will die from the same things today, and thousands more will die
tomorrow and the day after that and on and on. There is simply not enough fresh
water in the world to meet the needs of our population, and there is no
solution in sight.

“Desalination has been suggested, but where is
the money coming from for that? Where are the people who do not have the money
to buy a crust of bread or build sewers going to get the money to build
desalination plants and pipe clean water to where it’s needed?”

The still scrolling list of extinct species
continued on the left side of the screen. A picture of a wide-eyed and severely
malnourished child appeared on the right.

“Overpopulation is an overarching cause of the
destruction of wildlife
and the delicate
ecosystem of our planet. We cannot protect wildlife and reduce damage to our
environment unless we reduce our numbers. If we fail to do that, the
consequences will be a catastrophe for wildlife, a catastrophe for our
environment, and a catastrophe for us.

 “One way to reduce our numbers is to do
everything we can to see that all women can say no to pregnancy. In far too
many cultures and families around the world, women are required to marry a man
who may not be her choice and bear his children regardless of her wishes. Where
women have gained the right to say no without consequences, the birthrate has
dropped.

“Justice for women is not simply a women’s
issue, a birth control issue, or a civil rights issue. Justice for women is a
survival issue for wildlife and a survival issue for us.

“We must make everybody aware that
overpopulation is the greatest threat we face. Many here,
in this room,
have very powerful tools to reach people: in major theaters, on TV, and in
small communities gathered around screens in faraway places. You have genius,
you have money, and you have power. From the bottom of my heart, I
beg
you, please help reduce overpopulation. Please help save us all.”

Claire bowed her head and slowly walked back to
her seat as her audience came to its feet in a standing ovation.

It was late by the time the reception had ended
and David escorted Claire to the door of her cottage. He put his hands on her
waist and said, “Even if the audience had been blindfolded and in the dark
tonight, they would have known how beautiful you are.”

“It’s you. You make me feel beautiful,” she
said and kissed him the way she wanted to be kissed. It was not a kiss for the
faint of heart. He hesitated only fleetingly before responding with a passion
that electrified her.

Afterward, between deep breaths as they held
each other, he said, “I want to make love to you, but I can’t.”

“I want you to make love to me, why not?” she
said.

“It wouldn’t be ethical,” he said. “I need to
talk to you first.”

She grabbed the knot on his tie and pulled his
face down to hers. “You haven’t been concealing an STD, have you?”

He laughed. “No.”

She felt of his erection, and he jumped back.
“You can’t do that!”

“I’m a senior medical student. I just checked to
see if you’re gay.”

“That’s . . . that’s . . . insubordination!” he
said. Then they both realized how uproariously a court martial would laugh at the
cause of the charge, and they laughed.

Claire opened her door. “I’ll make us a cup of
coffee and you can talk. But I’m a woman scorned, and I’m not legally
accountable. You’d better make it good, or you might wind up in the ER with a
frying pan in your left ear.”

Just inside the door, she kicked off her high
heels. David appeared to be taller, more impressive in his dress uniform, even
more . . . . She stopped herself and turned away toward the kitchen.

He followed her and asked, “Why my left ear?”

“Because I’m right handed.”

She started the coffee, and then leaned back
against the kitchen counter with her arms across her chest. “Okay, talk.”

David sat in a chair by the kitchen table,
leaning forward with his hands between his legs on the edge of the seat. He
looked ready to bolt at any moment.

“Have you heard of the Fusion Prize?” he asked.

“Isn’t that an eighty billion dollar prize for
fusion power?”

“It’s eight billion
tax-free
dollars a
year for ten years to anybody who can demonstrate low-cost fusion power in
America,” he said. “George Earnest founded Fusion NRG Corporation and has
developed a highly efficient process to win the prize. The company wants to
avoid the public hassle of building a power plant. Instead, it’s working with
NASA to build and launch a manned, fusion-powered starship.”

Claire remembered David talking about a
starship during their dinner in Las Vegas. “Starship
Enterprise
?”

He shook his head. “Starship
Origin
.
NASA calls the program Quad Fusion Thunder. If the engines work properly during
the first test flight, the Fusion Prize will be awarded. Fusion NRG’s patent
rights will then be released into the public domain. Other firms will use the
patents and engineering to build fusion power plants without royalty costs.

“Origin
will be built at Vandenberg Air Force Base at the expense of Fusion NRG. The
corporation will walk away with forty-five billion in tax-free profit. The
world will be left with a clean, cheap, safe, and virtually limitless source of
power that can reduce pollution and stimulate the world economy. It can also
provide more clean water and save lives.”

Claire raised an eyebrow. “Where’s
Origin
going?”

“They’re still deciding that. The most probable
destination is Minor, a star two hundred and fifty light years from here. The
crew will only age three years during the trip because of the phenomenon of
time dilation. They will spend about one year flying to Minor, one year
exploring the star and its planets, and about one year flying back to Earth.”

“Time dilation? Isn’t that one of Einstein’s
theories?”

He nodded. “The faster anything moves the
slower time goes for it. Theoretically, time would stand still for anything
traveling at the speed of light.
Origin
will be flying to and from Minor
at near the speed of light.”

With a feeling of dread, she realized where the
discussion was going. “How much time will pass on Earth before
Origin
comes back?”

“Five hundred and three years,” David said.

The aroma of coffee filled the kitchen as she
said in a small voice, “And you want to go.”

He nodded. “And I want you to go with me.”

With raised eyebrows, she asked, “How can I do
that?”

“NASA wants a married couple for the crew.”

Claire realized that, whether he knew it or
not, he had just proposed. She believed he loved her, but he had not said so.
She knew she loved him and felt rising excitement. Should she say yes? Claire
was torn and didn’t know what to do but felt she had to do something. She
reached under the counter, picked up a skillet, and put it on the cooktop.

David’s eyes widened. “What are you going to do
with that?”

“I don’t know. I might fry some eggs. When will
Origin
launch?”

“July fourth, 2050.”

“That’s more than four years from now,” she
said.

“Yes.”

“So that would be more than seven years of our
lifetime before we could start a family?”

“Yes,” he said.

“That’s not good enough, David. I want a home
and family. Soon. Now. Yesterday.”

“There are other considerations.”

“What?”

“In terms of human suffering, the twenty-first
century will be by far the worst in human history.” he said.

“It already is.”

“Yes, and it’s going to get worse. If we have
children here, they’re going to grow up in this century,” he said. “What kind
of a life will they have? What kind of life will our grandchildren have? Our
great-grandchildren?”

She reached past the skillet to get cups and
saucers. David reached the kitchen door before he stopped. Claire looked at
him. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere, just stretching my legs,” he said and
went back to the chair.

Claire put cups and saucers on the table,
poured coffee, and sat down.

He’s talking like we’re already married! How
do I answer that?

After a long silence, he said, “What do you
think?”

“About what?”

“Our kids’ future,” he said.

“We’re only going to have one of our own. The
rest will be adopted.”

He said, “Our trust will be able to help
thousands of children while we’re gone. We can do more for kids if we leave
than if we stay, and our children will have a brighter future in the 26
^th
century.”

 “What trust?”

“Our living trust for our pay and our
investments. Each dollar we invest at six percent will be worth about one
hundred trillion dollars by the time we get back.”

She took a sip of coffee and looked at him
steadily for almost a minute.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Why?”

She put her cup in her saucer, and pushed it
away. “You’re talking about having kids and traveling 500 years into the
future, and you haven’t told me you love me or asked me to marry you.”

“I think I love you.” he said.

“What do you mean think? Why don’t you know?”

“I feel like I’ve been crazy in love with you
since we met,” he said. “But love at first sight doesn’t seem reasonable. Then when
I try to understand how I feel, I think of you, and my heart beats faster, and
I can’t think straight.”

She stood up and said, “Follow me.”

He followed her to the front door, and she
opened it. “You figure out how you feel and let me know.”

As he stepped through the door, she said,
“Goodnight David,” closed the door, locked it, and turned off the all-sounds
doorbell.