The Salvagers (23 page)

             
"Kurt and Cranky are onboard the
Cape Hatteras
. That crystal thing you brought back is getting bigger, so they dumped it over there," he said.

             
"I know. We've got to drop it into Saturn and get rid of it."

             
"I think they wanted to get rid of it anyway. It's filling up the hold over there already. How the hell can a rock grow like that?"

             
"I need to warn them," I said, as I pulled myself to the communications station. "
Cape Hatteras
, this is Cam. Get that crystal off the ship!"

             
"Cam!" Stacey responded. “It's wonderful to hear your voice! We were worried about you.”

             
"No time for chat, Stacey. That thing could hit critical mass at any moment and open the anomaly!"

             
"There's no way to get it out of here now. It's too big."

             
"Evacuate! You are in terrible danger!" I yelled.

             
The minutes counted down. I sat on the bridge of the
Amaranth Sun
in frantic and helpless suspense until finally I saw Stacey and Kurt emerge from the airlock and fire the jets on their suits to cross the gap. As soon as they were in the
Sun
's
lock, I plotted a course to bring us to a position several hundred kilometers ahead of the
Cape Hatteras
. I hoped that it would be close enough to monitor the derelict but far enough away to avoid the anomaly. The
Hyperion
had been following a higher, slower orbit and had drifted to the other side of Titan relative to us. I tried to contact those still there, but the effort was futile. It would be hours before they were in range.

             
I thought about the irony of it all. A few months ago I wanted to be as close to my salvage prize as I could get, and now I wanted to be far away. I didn't think Westmoreland had been right: the crystals reacted to me for some reason, but they didn't need me around to form the ring. It formed on its own and had taken two people on the
Cape Hatteras
while I was 20 million miles away on Europa. There was something else in play, another aspect of the mechanism. I desperately needed to figure out what it was. I made my way to the airlock to let my crewmen in.

             
"Why are we moving? What the hell is going on?" Stacey asked the moment the airlock door opened.

             
"Those crystals could form the anomaly at any time. They destroyed the research station and killed Westmoreland and his scientists," I said.

             
"The crystals are growing, but I didn't see any sign of immediate danger. Why the urgency?"

             
"I'm not at my best," I said. "At any rate, we should be alright when we get a good distance away."

             
I felt relieved that everyone was safe. When my thoughts returned to the message from the Dark Matter Beings, a terrible realization hit me. To destroy the crystals now would destroy the
Cape Hatteras
. Ed Iron wouldn't get his museum piece. We would have to try get them off the ship somehow, and every moment that passed meant that the task would be harder.

Chapter 27     Day 327

             
"December 25, 2259. 1900 hours. Log of Captain John Andrew Nelson, Commanding Officer, UNAG Mining Ship
Cape Hatteras
. I am passing a dead trojan comet. The voices call it the signpost. I am nearly out of fuel, but they assure me that we will reach our destination. Even when they do not speak through me, I know they are always here. They guide my actions with a reassuring hand. They are me, and I am them. It has always been this way, but it is only now that I am made aware of it. The signpost leads to the well, and I am to take my ship into it so that the forces of our enemies can be silenced forever."

              I didn't understand it. Not that I expected anything in that mission to add up to something sensible, but at least the powers that be—whatever those were—could have given me the satisfaction of some tiny measure of predictability. I would have been grateful for anything consistent with what I'd already been through that would have helped me get by without second-guessing myself every damned day. But that's not what I was given.

             
We had watched the
Cape Hatteras
for nearly a week through the telescopes on the
Amaranth Sun
. We spent hours in shifts gawking at that derelict trying to detect the slightest change in its appearance—blue light in the windows, any unusual movement—that might have signaled the crystals’ reaching their critical mass and conjuring up the anomaly. Unfortunately, I didn't know what we would have done if we
had
seen something. I was putting enormous trust in the only thing I had: the Dark Matter Beings. If my understanding of them was correct, they didn't open the anomaly, but once it was there they had some kind of limited control over what it could do. I hoped they had enough influence to make certain that it didn't eat us if we flew nearby to attach a tow line.

             
After a week of round-the-clock surveillance, everyone's patience had badly eroded. We engaged in seemingly endless debates over whether or not one of us had seen something. At first they were simple discussions. If someone had noticed a flash, we'd all look through the telescope and study the instrument readings. Then we would disagree and invariably blame it on an errant cosmic ray skittering across the spotter's retina. But things got worse. My crew annoyed with the false alarms. Tempers flared, and one by one each of us acknowledged the emerging truth: nothing was happening on that ship. Only I held out.

             
They therefore started directing their anger toward me. At first they tried to hide it, and then came occasional small outbursts. But by the end of that week they were openly furious for my keeping us idle and stationary, on edge but doing nothing. Stacey was the first to succumb. She was also the loudest in trying to persuade me to do something. Impatience was in her nature, and the more frustrated she got the harder it was to live with her.

             
Safe as the
Cape Hatteras
may have appeared, there was still no way I could bring myself to put any trust in those crystals. I took every precaution I could think of. I instructed the
Hyperion
to remain in a diametric orbit opposite the derelict while warning my ex-wife of imminent catastrophe. I had been telling the
Portsmouth
to stay even further away in a high orbit of Saturn on the orders of Westmoreland before he died, which I'd made up hoping they'd buy into the ruse and comply.

             
I was still convinced that the
Cape Hatteras
was eventually going to blow just as soon as those crystals reached critical mass. The captain of the
Portsmouth
was the only one who seemed remotely persuaded that I was right. He was a cautious sort, so he kept his distance, dutifully following the false orders of a dead man.

             
I was worried about that lie. Westmoreland had said no such thing. I had to be vague yet scientific in sounding like a man with far more education than I really possessed. I knew that if I said anything that the
Portsmouth
's captain found questionable, his crew would have taken over the entire affair and thrown me into his ship’s brig. But the risk was worth it. I needed them far enough away but not too far. It would take them a few hours to get where the
Amaranth Sun
was if we needed them, but not so close as to be able to meddle.

             
I certainly couldn't tell the military that the
Cape Hatteras
had to be destroyed. They wanted to study the anomaly, not destroy it, but I worried that I was weaving a web with the UNAG that would get increasingly difficult to maintain. All I knew was that I needed to be in control of the operation at all costs.

             
At the same time I knew that it was only a matter of time before the military would see through my deception and the admiralty would override Westmoreland's orders. I convinced myself that I could no longer afford to be inactive. I needed to move the plan forward, and do it quickly before the military took the initiative. On the eighth day I conceded that the crystals had to be past critical mass and the danger averted. That wasn't an easy decision to reach.

             
My first step was to move the
Amaranth Sun
closer to the
Cape Hatteras
. I didn't want to risk the lives of my crew, so I intended to  go over myself and see what was happening aboard the derelict.

             
"It's about time," Stacey said.

             
"I haven't changed my beliefs, Stacey. Those crystals are extremely dangerous. But we can't sit here forever, so I'm going over to see what's happening."

             
"You'll need help. I'll suit up and go with you."

             
"No, Stacey. I need you to stay here. There's no sense in risking anyone else. I can simply take a look around and return. If you see any blue light coming out of that ship’s windows, I want you to punch the
Amaranth Sun
's
engines and get the hell out of here."

             
"We aren't going to leave you, Cam," she said.

             
"You have to. You don't understand what we're dealing with. If you see that light, it means I'm already dead."

             
I could see her temper rising. She was preparing to waylay me with an angry speech about duty and sticking together, but I cut her off before she could launch into it.

             
"You've got to. I've seen what this thing can do, Stacey. You’ve heard my order. Now tell me you'll follow it!"

             
I was never that forceful with her in all the time that we had worked together. It disarmed her. My eyes flaring and my mind in two worlds at once, I was no longer myself, and she sensed it. Stacey broke down in tears.

             
"Aye, Captain. I will follow my orders," she said quietly.

             
I believed her but felt badly. It is not in my nature to be authoritarian, especially to someone who was like a daughter to me.

             
She also had done me a very great favor. She had had the presence of mind when evacuating the
Cape Hatteras
to override the outer airlock door and leave it open to space. Spending those few moments doing that could have gotten her killed, but there would be no one onboard to let us back in if she hadn't. I then would have had to cut into the hull a third time.

             
I silently turned and moved down the hall, leaving the bridge to her.

             
"Hey," I said to Neil while getting ready to climb into the airlock. He knew by my tone that I was going to say something personal.

             
"Yeah? Don't get mushy. You've been in so much danger lately that I'm numb to it. You'll be fine." he said.

             
"Now you know how I feel every time you do one of your insane space walks."

             
"Yeah, but I know what I'm doing. You just wing it and play around with UNAG spies."

             
"You're right that I'll be fine, but I want you to hold onto something for me just in case," I said, giving him the gold charm. "Your mother gave me that when she visited me on Titan. It's the
Cape Hatteras
."

             
"I know. I cast it. You should keep it."

             
"Oh, I want it back alright. Your mother said it was from the
Hyperion
's
crew, but I think it was really her idea. Of course, she'll never admit it. If I don't come back, it's the last link between you, me, and your mother."

             
"And the
Cape Hatteras
," Neil said.

             
"You should hold onto it just in case."

             
He took the charm and worked hard to suppress his tears until one rolled down his cheek. It was only the second time I'd ever seen that since he was out of diapers. The other occasion was that when Janet and I told him we were divorcing. He was still in his early teens when things finally self-destructed, and he hadn't taken it well. Janet and I could both tell that he wanted us to be a happy, functional family, exploring space together instead of being separated and angry.

             
"That pendant represents my greatest moment," I continued, "and your first big one, but I'll bet money that it won't be your greatest. You're going to go on and do bigger things than I ever did. I know it. The adventure is just starting for you."

             
"Of course I'll be great," Neil said, "but watch yourself. Remember, if you die, I get to be the captain. Kurt and I then can ditch Cranky and pick up a group of Mars babes.
Party Ship
is a better name than
Amaranth Sun
."

             
"It'll be a few more years before that happens. Keep those engines hot, son. I'll be back," I said as I ruffled his hair.

             
"I will, Dad. I'm holding you to that," he said, closing the airlock door as I snapped on my helmet. It's easy to prepare other people for your impending death, but it’s another matter entirely to prepare yourself. I tried not to think about it.

             
When the outer airlock door opened, I pushed myself off lightly into space. I remembered a time when that was frightening, something you did very carefully and cautiously, but for me it had become almost routine. A year earlier I considered space-walking the most dangerous part of salvage work. People at home always asked how we dealt with the stress of the constant danger. I'd never known quite how to answer, but now I would have told them that you deal with it like all of life’s dangers: you just do what you have to do.

             
It took nearly twenty minutes to close the distance. I occupied myself by staring at the derelict. You never get to see something quite the same as the first time you set eyes on it. After then it becomes a known and familiar thing. But the
Cape Hatteras
was once again different. The known had morphed into the unknown, terra incognita once more.

             
I gently checked my momentum against the starboard side of the
Cape Hatteras
and hoisted myself into the open airlock. Its automated system sensed that I was inside and closed the door gently, the silence of space giving way to the sound of flowing air until a sign indicated safety.

             
After the interior door opened, I took off my helmet. In hindsight I probably should have done the usual tests to verify the atmosphere, but I somehow knew it would be fine. Perhaps I was growing careless or numb to what I regarded as minor dangers. Once on that ship I didn't fear anything. My emotions were strangely and unnaturally disengaged. I wondered idly whether that was the effect of the crystals or of too much reliance on the familiarity I now had with that ship. I couldn't tell.

             
I made my way to the hold. The entire room was coated in black crystal. They'd grown from floor to ceiling, giving the room the look of a cave. The bulkheads were a perfectly smooth wall of solid gemstone shimmering in the ship's lights, themselves shining dark violet through the crystal that covered them. It had inched itself past the hold doors and was just beginning to spread along the walls of the corridors, first in lightning-like streaks and then filling in as they grew.

             
I could perceive the growth indirectly. Over a few minutes I could discern a change. They were encasing the
Cape Hatteras
, entombing it in dark-matter minerals, but something had changed. I could now touch the crystals and experience no reaction. I ran my fingers along their smooth surfaces without the slightest hint of blue radiation.