Starhawk (21 page)

“I'm not a hero. I just happened to be there when the heroes showed up.”

“And you also
happened
to ride home with those kids. We're all grateful for that.” He grinned and looked out at the reporters, then at the
Thompson
. “I'm glad they didn't need
me
up there to bring one of those things home.”

Priscilla didn't know what to say, so she simply stood looking at the crowd and feeling foolish.

McGruder's eyes narrowed. “You look tired, Priscilla.”

“I'm fine,” she said.

He turned again to the audience: “Look at her. She has all she can do to keep her eyes open.” He sighed. “It's the effect I always have on beautiful women.”

Everybody laughed. Priscilla smiled defensively. “I doubt,” she said, “you'd put anybody to sleep, Governor.”

“That's very kind of you.” He looked absolutely in charge. A guy who loved having an audience. “I'd hoped to meet you today, Priscilla, because it's through people like you that we've been able to reach out, literally, to the stars. And I understand fully why you might be inclined to resist my proposals that we cut back on our investment in space. If I were in your place, I would probably feel the same way.” He was looking directly into her eyes now. “The reality, though, is that the government is deeply in debt, the economies of India, China, Russia, Germany, Britain, all the nations who have contributed so much to make this effort a success, all their economies are stressed. We have serious problems with overpopulation, climate disruption, fresh water, species going extinct, and all kinds of other things. If we are eventually to become a starfaring world, which I know is what we all want, we are going to have to pause now and catch our breath. We need to back off, not only from our space program, but in other areas as well. If we fail to do that, if we keep pushing mindlessly ahead, running up the national debt, it's my conviction that we will lose everything.” He looked genuinely in pain. “Wouldn't you concede, Priscilla, at least that I might have a point?”

“I understand what you're saying, Governor,” she said. “But we have a tendency, once we shut something down, to leave it that way.”

“You're right. That's why we need to act now. I'm not proposing we abandon the WSA. What we need is to trim it back. Keep it active, keep it in place, but don't put it in a position where it's draining our resources so much that we have to, as you say, Priscilla, shut it down.” He glanced again at the
Thompson
. “Let's hope we can arrange things so that, one day, I'll be able to ride that ship out to Alpha Centauri as part of an ongoing interstellar program. And when that day comes, I hope you'll be my pilot.” He shook her hand and thanked her.

Priscilla stepped away from him as another voice was raised. “Governor, if you will—” A female reporter. “When you talk about a payoff for the investment in spaceflight, you always talk about money. What about the level of cooperation we've seen among member countries since we started the World Space Authority? It's been eighty years now. We've had no wars among the founding nations. And sure, they're still competitive, but you could argue that they don't try to undermine one another anymore.”

“Ms.—?”

“Michelle Worth.”

“Is there a question in there somewhere?”

“Aren't you missing the most important benefits we get from all this?” She looked around at the portals, the
Thompson
and the launch area, framed pictures along the bulkheads of nebulae and planets and space vehicles. “Isn't the human race, largely because of the space effort, finally showing signs of drawing together?”

The governor sighed. He'd been through all this before. “I wish it were so. Ladies and gentlemen, I don't want anyone here to misunderstand what I'm trying to say. I'm aware that we've gained a lot from what the people here have done. They have my deepest respect and admiration. What I
am
saying is that if we want to keep the program from dying, we have to make some hard decisions. Cut back now, and we can still look forward to a bright future. And that's it. That's my message. It's all I'm saying.”

More hands went up. “Yes, Harvey?”

Priscilla turned and headed for the elevator. Frank joined her there. He looked pleased. “Nice job,
Hutch
,” he said.

She couldn't head off a grin. Still, she was not happy. “How can you say that, Frank? He's explaining why they should slash our funding, and I helped him.”

“No, you did fine. You put a face on the organization, Priscilla. It was all we could hope for.”

 * * * 

NORMALLY, THE PEOPLE
who hung out at the Cockpit were staff from Union, the operations guys, the administrative types, the maintenance workers. Priscilla suspected they all enjoyed being in a place the general public assumed was limited to the men and women who took the interstellars into the night. After all, in this era of expansion out of the solar system, the pilots were the ultimate heroic figures. They'd replaced military people and detectives and emergency medical workers. More HV shows featured their adventures than those of any other character type. They showed up in commercials explaining how Poltex provided more energy when energy was seriously needed. They told you which lawyers you could trust. They retired, ran for Congress, and usually won. And it was inevitably a huge story when one of them was caught cheating on a spouse.

Rob Clayborn showed up the day after the governor's visit. He looked okay. The dizzy spells had apparently gone away. That afternoon, Frank told her he'd been pronounced ready to resume his duties aboard the
Baumbachner
. “The doctors think it had something to do with his diet,” he said. “He's been trying to lose weight and may not have been getting enough nutrition. Anyhow, we've got him back.”

“That's good news,” she said. “Thanks.”

“I'm sorry, Priscilla.”

“Hey, don't be. I'm glad he's all right.”

 * * * 

CAL CALLED AGAIN.
“I miss you. It's never happened to me before. Never really missed anybody. Not like this. I was thinking maybe I'd come up to the Wheel for a couple of days. If that would be okay with you.”

Priscilla wasn't quite ready to move to that stage of a relationship she wasn't sure she wanted at all. So she explained how busy she was, that she almost never had any time off, and why didn't they wait until she got home?

Her mother also called, still pushing law school.

 * * * 

THEN CAPTAIN BRANDYWINE
arrived at the station. Mike Brandywine, played by Ryan Fletcher, was, of course, the heroic starship captain in the series
Deep Skies
. The studios were shooting a sequence in the launch area. In this episode, a time traveler had landed on the
Valiant
, warning its crew that, in seven hours, terrorists would seize the space station and be waiting to take control of the ship when it docked. “Unless we can change things,” she told them in a halting voice, “they'll be successful. They'll use the
Valiant
to destroy London. Eventually, the attack will destabilize the UK, and, within two years, bring down the entire Western World.” They wouldn't allow anyone to watch the actual filming, but the
Catherine Perth
was in port, and Fletcher and some of his colleagues asked to tour the ship. Priscilla was a fan of the series and she took advantage of the opportunity to go see him. Also present were the actors who portrayed Jason Petrie, the half-French half-alien engineering officer, and Barbara Cole, the knockout security chief. Every staff worker not on duty must have been in the launch area when Fletcher and the others arrived, escorted by Patricia. The crowd applauded, collected autographs, and applauded again when Fletcher told them what an honor it was to be there with the people “who were actually making it all happen, rather than just pretending.”

When they came out of the
Perth
, accompanied by its captain, Arnold “Easy” Barnicle, Patricia brought them in Priscilla's direction. “And this young lady,” she said, “is Priscilla Hutchins.
Hutch
to her friends. She's one of our pilots.”

Fletcher looked at her. “Hutch,” he said, “I didn't realize our pilots looked so good.” Then he flashed that killer smile and turned away for more introductions.

It was a heartbreaker.

 * * * 

NEWSDESK

FOUR CLIMBERS DEAD IN COLORADO AVALANCHE

Ignored Warnings to Stay off Mountain

SENATE VOTES TO DISMISS CASTOR

Corruption Charges Filed; Indictment Believed Imminent

Other Senators May Be Involved

Historic Term Limits Bill Introduced in House

BANCROFT COMPLETES CROSS-COUNTRY BIKE RIDE

Pledges for Homeless Pass 5 Million

GENETIC GOOD-LOOKS BOOST NOT WORKING

No Real Change in Glamour Generation

It May Be All in the Smile

INCREASES IN TEST SCORES ATTRIBUTED TO ROBOT TEACHERS

In Classroom, Robots Consistently Outperform Humans

Hold Inherent Advantage in One-on-One Instruction

INCOMING SOLAR FLARE MAY DISRUPT TECHNOLOGY

POLICE KILL VIOLENT CHIMP

Three People Injured in Southsea Park

FERAL CATS STILL A MAJOR PROBLEM ACROSS COUNTRY

MCGRUDER CHALLENGES BELMAR TO RELEASE IQ SCORE

SPACEPORT SECURITY FLUNKS CHECK

Reporters Board Flights with Fake Bombs

Coordinated Test Gets by Flaws in London, Berlin, Tokyo, New York

Peking & Paris Block Entry

DROUGHT CONTINUES IN MIDWEST

Water Rationing in Effect in Eight States

“HI,
HUTCH
.”

She heard it several times next morning before she even got to her desk. One of the medical guys used it to say hello while she was at breakfast; Joan Kung sang it out as they passed in the Starlight lobby; a staff member whose name she didn't even know used it coming out of the elevator. Frank, who was going the other way in the corridor outside her office, raised a hand but said nothing. Though maybe the smile said it all.

She picked up her coffee and went into her office. Nikki greeted her: “Good morning, Hutch.”

“You, too?”

“I'm sorry. Couldn't resist.”

“You need some new material.”

“I sense that you are annoyed.”

“Hey, they introduced me to one of the biggest stars of this generation, and they made it a point to screw up my name.”

“I'm sure Patricia meant no harm.”

Priscilla sank into her chair and set her coffee on the desk. “I know. And I'm acting like an idiot.”

“May I ask why, Priscilla?”

“Love your tact.”

“Thank you.”

“Was that sarcasm?”

“Sarcasm is a purely human response.”

“Okay. Look, if you have to know, I spent a large chunk of my childhood trying to get rid of
Prissy
, which was the name my mom used for me most of the time. I never much cared for Priscilla either.”

“May I ask why not?”

“I just didn't like the sound of it. So I tried to get my folks to change my name. To give me a nickname.”

“And what nickname would you have preferred?”

“That's what annoys me. I wanted
Hutch
. It never really caught on. Until, apparently, yesterday.”

“I do not have a laughter capability.”

“I'm sorry about that.”

“So why don't you cash in on it now? Take
Hutch
as your own. There will never be a better time.”

“Nikki, I've gotten used to
Priscilla
.”

“It's your call. By the way,
Priscilla
, we have an organization chart that needs updating.”

 * * * 

SHE WAS TRYING
to get some accounting records together when Parik Simpkins came in. Parik was a construction worker. She'd only met him once before and had to scramble to come up with his name. He had dark skin, dark eyes, and an easy smile. He held out a pair of earrings. “Are these yours, by any chance?”

They looked like pearls. “No,” she said. “What makes you think they might be mine?”

“They were found on the
Bomb
. You were the last person to use the ship.”

“Not mine,” she said. “Rob might know something.” There were rumors that Rob Clayborn entertained occasional lady friends aboard the
Baumbachner
. Which maybe explained the dizziness.

“Okay, I'll check with him.” He started to leave. Hesitated. “Did you hear about the problem at Teegarden?”

“At where?”

“Teegarden's Star.”

“Oh. No, I didn't. What's going on?”

“You know the Academy Project has a research station on the ground, right? Well, anyhow, they can't get the lander started. They're running out of food and water. The
Proxmire
's in orbit, with plenty of supplies, but they don't have any way to deliver them.”

“That's not good. Is the lander on the ground?”

“Yes.”

“When did we find out?”

“Yesterday,” he said.

“So what are we doing?”

He shrugged. “I thought
you'd
know.”

 * * * 

THREE MINUTES LATER,
she was in Frank's outer office. The staff assistant looked up. “He's busy,” she said. “I can call you when he's available. It shouldn't be long.”

“How about if I wait?”

“Suit yourself.”

She sat down, looked out the window just in time to see the rim of the Moon disappear. The Moon was back in the window when Frank's door finally opened. Patricia came out. She smiled at Priscilla, said hello, and left without waiting for a response. Frank saw her, rolled his eyes, and waved her inside. “Something wrong?” he asked, as the door closed behind her.

“I just heard about the Teegarden problem.”

“Sit,” he said as he lowered himself onto his desk. “Yeah. Well, we're working on it.”

“May I ask what we're doing?”

His jaws tightened. “Priscilla, I'm kind of busy right now. We're taking care of it, okay?” There was an edge in his voice.

“Is someone on the way there?” she asked.

“Not yet. We sent a message to the
Grosvenor
. Actually, to the
Grosvenor
's destination. It's headed for the station at Ross 248. As soon as it surfaces, they'll let it know what happened.”

“As soon as it surfaces? When will that be?”

“Two days. More or less.”

“Frank, they're not much closer to Teegarden than
we
are. So the
Grosvenor
gets the message two days from now, and
then
it starts for Teegarden?”

“That's correct. Yes.”

“Our flight time to Teegarden is about the same as theirs. If we start now, we'd save two days.”

“Priscilla.” He was getting annoyed. “Look, why don't you leave this to us? You must have something better to do.”

“Why don't we send somebody from here?”

“Because we don't have anybody to send. Now please just leave it alone.”

“What about the
Baumbachner
?”

He laughed. “The
Baumbachner
? That's our
maintenance
vehicle.” He took a deep breath. “This is not a life-and-death situation. They won't run out of food for another day or two. So relax and let me handle it, okay?” He looked toward the open door.

 * * * 

SHE WONDERED HOW
he could be so sure no lives were at risk. Interstellar communication was reliable, but there was no guarantee. It wasn't hard to think of ways the
Grosvenor
rescue could go wrong. In any case, a couple of extra days without food and water could be a fairly negative experience. Why put people through that if it wasn't necessary?

Priscilla went back to her office and sat staring at her display. Accounting records.
Eventually, unless we change the system, there are going to be more casualties.
And nobody really seems to care. The only thing that matters is who gets blamed.

She put Teegarden's Star on-screen. It was a brown dwarf, with a miniscule fraction of the sun's luminosity. It possessed a single planet, in close, barely one and a half million kilometers out. Remarkably, the world had life. Which was why a base was being established on the surface. The animals consisted mostly of spidery stuff, creatures with multiple legs and wings, bulging eyes, beetle husks. She looked at pictures of the ground. There were no trees, just bushes and thickets and brambles, almost white rather than green, twisted and strung together. The skies were always dark, black at night, dusky gray when the sun was in the sky. The data said there was a moon, but it took a serious effort to locate it in the visuals.

And there were pictures of the ground staff. Five people, led by an Alexander Quinn. Quinn reminded her of a history teacher she'd had back in high school. Tall, thin, with a long nose and a take-no-prisoners attitude. His opinion was always on display.

Quinn and his people would not be happy trying to get by for a few days without meals. His team all looked pretty young. Two guys and two women. There was no question what the WSA
should
be doing. And if something went wrong because they hadn't given maximum effort, she'd be as guilty as Irasco. She checked the schedule to see who was on duty in operations. It was Yoshie Blakeslee. Priscilla knew her but not well. “Nikki,” she said, “connect me with Ops.”

The green light blinked, and Yoshie responded:
“This is Operations. What can I do for you, Priscilla?”

“Yoshie, I need a favor.”

“Sure.”

“I want you to prep the
Baumbachner
for departure. Do a complete refueling. I'll need two weeks' supply of food and water for one.”

“Priscilla, why do you need to refuel? It has plenty of fuel.”

“I'd just as soon you not ask too many questions. But I'll be making a jump.”

“On the
Baumbachner
?”
She sounded reluctant.

“Yes.”

“Destination, please?”

“I'm still working on it. Just get it ready. Posthaste. I'll be there in a half hour.”

“Who's the ordering official, please?”

“Mr. Irasco.”

 * * * 

SHE LEFT THE
office, strolled casually down the corridor, said hello to Patricia, who was just coming out of the conference room, and descended to the main deck. Then she hurried to her hotel room, packed, and ten minutes later showed up on bravo dock, where the
Baumbachner
was secured. A second ship had arrived and was being unloaded on the far side. She thought of Frank's comment:
“We don't have anybody to send.”
Well, it was possible Frank had asked, but the carrier had other uses for the vehicle and declined. It wasn't hard to imagine its happening that way.
After all, it's not life and death.
Frank asks for help and has to show somebody's in imminent danger. Out here, where you're dealing with interstellar distances, by the time the danger becomes imminent, it tends to be fairly late.

She stopped at the departure desk. Nobody was there, but an AI asked her name.

“Priscilla Hutchins.”

“Priscilla, have you determined a destination yet?”

“Teegarden's Star,” she said.

“Purpose of visit?”

“Rescue operation.”

“Will you be carrying any passengers?”

“Negative. I'll be alone.”

“Very good, Priscilla. You're clear to go.”

“Thank you.” She went into the access tube, hurried down to the dock, and boarded the ship. She closed the air lock, stowed her bag, and went onto the bridge. “Hello, Myra,” she said.

“Hello, Priscilla.” The AI sounded cheerful. “Where are we going?”

“Teegarden's Star.”

“Teegarden's? Why are we going there?”

“To bail out an Academy team.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. I've never done a bailout.”

 * * * 

THE ENGINES CAME
on. “Ops, this is
Baumbachner
. We are ready to go.”

The launch doors began to open, and Yoshie was back on the circuit.
“
Baumbachner
, proceed at your leisure. Priscilla, there are no other vehicles in the area.”

“Roger that, Yoshie. See you when I get back.” She switched off the mike. “Okay, Myra, let's move. Just like last time.”

“Lines released, Priscilla. Thrusters activated.” They began to back out of the dock.

“Bring us around until we face the launch doors, Myra.”

Gradually, she lined up with the exit, and the ship moved forward.

“Hutchins!”
Irasco's voice exploded over the commlink.
“What the hell do you think you're doing?”

She stared at the mike. Made a noise deep in her throat. And responded: “Frank, I'm headed for Teegarden.”

“No you're not. Priscilla, bring it back.”

Myra's voice: “What do we do, Priscilla?”

“Keep moving.”

The doors began to close. “We do not have time to pass through, Priscilla.”

“Okay,” she said. “Hold it.”

Someone exhaled on the commlink. Yoshie. Then Irasco said, quietly,
“After it's docked, stop by my office.”

 * * * 

“HAVE YOU LOST
your mind?” Frank sat behind his desk, glaring. “What the hell were you trying to do? Show me up?”

She was standing in front of his desk. “It wasn't about
you
, Frank. It was about the people at the other end. They're waiting for somebody who may or may not get the word that they're in trouble.”

“All right.” He shook his head. “Priscilla, I just don't understand you. But you haven't left me much choice. You're terminated. Please go away.”

“Frank. We lost Joshua because we didn't get to him in time. Eventually, we'll be forced to establish a response unit of some kind. Do you want to wait until somebody else is killed?”

“Damn it, Priscilla, back off. You think I
like
this arrangement? It's the system we have. You go out there in that wreck, and something goes wrong,
you're
dead.” He took a deep breath. “You're lucky, by the way.”

“How's that?”

“I'm not going to take your license. But I doubt if, after this, anybody will hire you.”

 * * * 

PRISCILLA'S JOURNAL

Five people stranded out there, and all I can do is think of myself. Why is it always about
me
? But the reality is that, eventually, I may turn out to be the only casualty of this thing.

—January 19, 2196