Polaris (37 page)

What else?

Alex shook his head. “Anybody have any idea what the symbols mean?”

“The bottom one looks like a negative,” said Chalaba. “Maybe somebody just brought it from home,” she said. “Forgot they had it.”

It looked very much like a standard hotel key. Five buttons:
up
and
down
for the elevators,
lock
and
unlock
for the apartment, and a transaction button. That would be the red one. The rectangle represented a press pad.

The book was
Wilderness of Stars,
by Emanuel Placido. It had been a big hit with the environmental people in the last century. “It belonged to White,” Chalaba said. “We have a virtual copy available if you'd like to see it.”

Alex caught my eyes.
Maybe she wrote something in it. Maybe it's what they've been looking for.
“Cory,” he said, “since we're in here, I assume the exhibit area is open to the general public.”

She nodded. “Yes. But we don't advertise it, so I doubt many people know it's here.”

He showed her the picture of Barber.

“No,” she said. “I've never seen her.”

He gave it to her, along with his code. “It will get you to our office,” he said. “We'd be grateful if you'd keep an eye open. If she shows up, please give us a call.”

She looked at us suspiciously.

“It's all right,” he said. “If you're reluctant to call
us,
let the Andiquar police know. You'll want to talk to Inspector Redfield.”

“All right. You mind telling me what it's about?”

“One other thing,” he said, bypassing the question. “I'd like very much to buy a copy of the key.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Kimball, but that's really not feasible.”

“It's important,” he said. “And I'd be grateful.” He produced his link, typed in a figure, and showed it to her. “Would this cover it?”

Her eyebrows went up. “Yes,” she said, drawing the word out. “If it means that much, I suppose we can manage it.”

“Thank you,” said Alex. “Please be sure it's a working duplicate.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“I think it's what Barber and Kiernan were looking for.”

“Really. Why?”

“Because it's the one object that has no possible use on the
Polaris.
”

“I'm not sure I follow.”

“Ask yourself what it was doing in the shuttle's cargo compartment.” He looked around to be sure we were alone. “Chase, I know how it was done.”

We were walking across a white stone bridge that separated the Foundation grounds from the landing pad. He stopped and gripped the white handrail and leaned out over a brook as if he were really interested in seeing whether it contained fish. He could be infuriating sometimes. I waited for the explanation, which did not come. “How?” I said at last.

“You suggested the ship went elsewhere in the system.”

“Yes.”

“Why not
outside
the system? They had six days before the
Peronovski
would arrive.”

“It's possible. Sure.”

“Everybody assumed the ship went adrift right after the last message. But that's not what happened. It jumped out of the system. Took the passengers somewhere. To a drop-off point. Then they unloaded everyone. The place, wherever it was, had living accommodations. That's where the key came from.”

“There's no place like that near Delta Kay.”

“You sure? We're talking three days available for travel, one way. How far was that in 1365?”

“Sixty light-years.”

“That's a pretty big area. Even out there.” He dropped a pebble into the water. “The key, in effect, is a hotel key. Whoever had it unloaded his
passengers, got a good night's sleep, and in the morning he started back in the
Polaris
to Delta Kay.”

“—Where the ship was found by the
Peronovski
—”

“Yes.”

“And, with Walker's help, he was able to slip aboard and hide below. Until they returned to port.”

“Very good, Chase.”

“You really think that's what happened?”

“Except one thing.”

“What's that?”

“Change the pronoun.
She
slipped aboard.”

“Maddy?”

“I don't think there's any question. She's the one in the ideal position to pull it off, provided she had help from other passengers. And she was a pilot. The conspirators had arranged in advance to make another ship available for her at Indigo. When she got back, she collected it and went out to recover them.”

“I'll be damned.”

“All the objects that were looked at by our burglars belonged to Maddy. Nobody else.”

“But Alvarez should have seen her when he searched the
Polaris.
”

“She hid in the shuttle cargo compartment. That's when she lost the key.”

“They had no reason to open the cargo compartment.”

“Right. And when the search was over, Alvarez and Walker went back to the
Peronovski.
That night, Alvarez goes to sleep—”

“—And Walker brings her aboard.”

“He stashed her in one of the compartments belowdecks.
Voilà,
the alien wind has swept them all away.”

“Incredible,” I said. “That simple.”

Alex shrugged modestly.

“They did all this just to head off Dunninger's research?”

“They saw it as life and death for millions of people. And they were all idealists.”

“Fanatics.”

“One man's idealist is another's lunatic.”

“But why is anyone worried about it now? Is someone still in power from those years?”

His eyes were troubled. “No. I've checked. Everyone who could have been involved, either at Survey, or in the political world, is dead or retired.”

“Then who's behind the attacks on us?”

“I have an idea, but let's put that aside for now.”

“Okay. So where'd the
Polaris
take them?”

“That's what we have to find out.”

We stayed in Sabatini and returned to Limoges the next day by train. Alex liked trains, and he also thought it might be smart to change our travel plans. Just in case.

We rode a taxi to the station and arrived just as the Tragonia Flyer was pulling in. We got into our compartment, and Alex lapsed into silence. The train made a second stop in Sabatini, then began its long trek across the Koralis.

We were still in mountain country when the service bot brought lunch. And wine. Alex gazed moodily through the window at the passing landscape.

I thought about Maddy while I ate. I liked her, identified with her, and I hated to think she'd been part of a conspiracy to put Dunninger out of action.

“First thing we need to do,” I told Alex, “is to go back and look at the shipping schedules again. We'd assumed that any black ship would have to go all the way out to Delta Kay. But this changes things. We need to check, to see whether anyone was in a position to get close enough to manage a rendezvous.”

“I've already looked,” he said. “It was one of the first things I did.”

“So you're telling me nobody would have been able to do that either?”

“That's correct. Nobody was unaccounted for. Nobody, other than the
Peronovski,
was anywhere near the target space. And not for weeks afterward. Which means Maddy didn't immediately go back to pick them up. But that's just smart planning.”

He finished his meal and pushed it aside.

“You know,” I said, “I think I prefer the alien juggernaut theory.”

“Yeah. I feel that way, too.”

“I have a question.”

“Go ahead.”

“What was the last-minute emergency that kept Taliaferro off the flight?”

“Chase, I don't think Taliaferro ever intended to go. I think everybody on board that ship was part of the conspiracy to shut down Dunninger. Taliaferro got volunteers, people who were willing to give up their everyday lives to stop something they thought would be a major calamity. But there was a limited number he dared ask. Not enough to fill the ship. Taliaferro couldn't go himself, because they needed him to direct things from Survey. They were going to need money, for example, and eventually a base. So Taliaferro set up Morton College. But there were a lot of people who wanted to make the
Polaris
flight, so they had to be able to claim it was filled.”

We passed through a small town, lots of lights, someone on a runabout. Otherwise, the streets were empty.

“Do not underestimate the woman. Provoke her, anger her, infuriate her, and in her hands every object, every knife, every pot, every pebble, can become lethal.”

—Jeremy Riggs,
Last Man Out

The train ride required a bit more than fourteen hours. We slept most of the way and got into Limoges an hour or two before midnight. Once off the train, we hurried through the terminal like a couple of fugitives, watching everybody and wondering when someone would throw a bomb. But we got back to the town house without incident.

Neither of us was ready to call it a night. Alex poured two glasses of Vintage 17, made a sandwich, and sat down in an armchair in a manner that suggested big things were about to happen.

I've forgotten the AI's name at the town house, but he directed it to provide a display with Delta Karpis at the center. “Make a sphere around it, with a sixty-light-year radius.” Sixty light-years, of course, was the maximum range the
Polaris
could have traveled in the three days it had available. “How many habitable worlds are there?”

“One moment, please.”

Alex was in excellent spirits. He looked across at me and grinned. “We've got them,” he said. His sandwich showed up, and he picked it up without looking at it, took a bite, chewed and swallowed, and washed it down with his wine.

I was feeling less jovial. Alex says I worry too much. “I hate to point this out,” I told him, “but I think we've done enough. Why don't we walk
away from this? Give everything to Fenn and let him deal with it? Before more bad things happen?”

He shook his head. It's a hard life when one is surrounded by such imbecility. “Chase,” he said, “don't you think I'd love to? But they're going to keep coming after us. And there's no way we can stop that until we stop
them.
Fenn's not going to run out to Delta Kay and look around.” His voice softened. “Anyhow, don't you want to be there when we confront these people?”

“Probably not,” I said.

“Three,”
said the AI.
“There are three habitable worlds.”

“Three? Is that all?”

“It's a sterile area. Most of the stars in the region are young.”

“Delta Karpis wasn't young.”

“Delta Karpis was an exception. And there is also an outstation.”

“Where?”

“Meriwether. It's actually a bit farther than the parameters you set. It's sixty-seven light-years out.”

“Where is it? Show me.”

A swirl of stars appeared in the middle of the room. A prominent yellow one began blinking.
“Delta Kay,”
said the AI. An arrow appeared above a side table, pointing toward the back porch.
“That way to Indigo.”
Then we got another blinker, this one red, over a love seat.
“The Meriwether outstation.”

Alex looked pleased. Only four possibilities. “Chase,” he said, “we've caught a break.” And, to the AI: “Tell me about them.”

“The worlds first. Terranova has a small settlement.”
Its image formed in the middle of the room.
“It's the home of the Mangles.”

“What's a Mangle?” I asked.

“They're a back-to-nature group who like isolation. They ascribe, more or less, to the philosophy of Rikard Mangle, who thought that people should get their hands dirty, build their own homes, and grow their own food. To do less, he maintained, is to fall short of knowing what it truly means to be human. Or something like that. Aside from an occasional hermit, they've been the sole inhabitants on Terranova for two centuries. They claim to be the most remote human outpost.”

“Are they?” I asked.

“Depends where you put the center of the Confederacy, ma'am.”

“And they're still functioning?” said Alex.

“Oh, yes. They're still there. But they don't have much contact with the outside world. A little trading. And every once in a while somebody escapes.”

“That's a gag, right?” I said.

“Not at all. Their children don't always want to stay. Some, when they can, clear out.”

“The brighter ones.”

“I'm not equipped to make that judgment.”

Alex wore a wry smile. “These Mangles,” he said, “would they be likely to let an outside group move in?”

“Judging by their history, as well as their code of regulations, I'd say not. Unless you adopted their political philosophy.”

Well, I thought, that part of it doesn't matter. A planet's a big place. The
Polaris
had a lander. The Mangles sound fairly primitive, so the lander could have gotten to the surface unseen easily enough. “How many Mangles are there?”

“Fewer than sixty thousand, Chase. Terranova is the only Confederate world that shows a consistent decrease in population.”

“Okay,” said Alex. “Tell us about the other two.”

“Markop III. And Serendipity. Neither has been settled. Gravity approximates one point four at Markop. It's uncomfortable under the best of circumstances. Serendipity's air is thin, and the surface is hot to intolerable. Any human settlements would have to be placed near the poles.”

“But the air is breathable.”

“Oh, yes. It's not a place you'd want to go if you like comfort. But you could certainly put a group of people there and, assuming you provided food and shelter, you could have every hope they'd survive.”

“What about the outstation? Meriwether?”

“It services a bare handful of missions each year. It's probably the oldest of the operational stations. Completely automated.”

“Could I use it without leaving a record?”

“I don't know. That information is not available.”

That was my area of expertise. “The answer's no, Alex. The station AI logs everything. Any attempt to juggle the log, to gundeck it in any way, is considered a criminal offense. And it gets reported.”

“No way it could be done?”

“I don't think so. At the first sign of tampering, the AI would send out an alarm.”

“Okay. I think we better have a look at it anyhow.”

“Could we wait until morning?”

He laughed. “Yes, I suspect we can do that.”

It was supposed to be a joke. “You do mean we're leaving
tomorrow?
” I'd been hoping for two or three days off.

“Yes,” he said. “I think it's prudent we end this thing as quickly as we can. We'll be targets until we do.” Did I want more wine? I declined, and he refilled his glass. “Now, can we trust
Belle
's new AI?”

“Yes,” I said. “We have a security system that will alert us if anyone so much as looks twice at the ship.” Nevertheless, I took an early transport up to Skydeck and spent the morning going over her, just to be on the safe side. I'd had enough surprises.

The Meriwether platform is located in solar orbit around Meriwether A, which is the largest component of a triple star system. The other two suns, however, are so dim and so far away, they're not distinguishable from distant stars. The station is, of course, an excavated asteroid. As we approached, lights came on, and a cheerful radio voice welcomed us.

With the advent of the quantum drive, the outstations had all become essentially obsolete. A few were kept in operation to assist ultralong missions; but there weren't many, and they were being maintained at a limited level. “Belle says Meriwether doesn't get more than a half dozen missions a year,” I told Alex.

“That can't be enough to pay the upkeep,” he said. “I suspect they'll be closing the place within a few years.”

I put visuals on-screen. “It's been here a long time.”

“How old
is
it?”

“Seventeen hundred years. It goes back to Commonwealth days.” I was running data across the monitor. “Says here it was originally a naval base.”

There'd been a period early in the history of the Commonwealth in which warfare had flared sporadically between Rimway and her nearest neighbors, Inikonda and Chao Ti. It had been a three-way conflict, never all-out, with occasional alliances between two of the warring parties against the third.

The station continued transmitting.
“
. . .
to have you in the area. Please state your requirements.”
The voice was male. Careful diction. Vague projection of superiority. Aristocratic.

I submitted a list of needed supplies. Fuel. Water. We had plenty of food.

“Very good,”
said the station.
“Follow the lights. You'll be coming in through Bay Four.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“We're pleased to help. Is there anything else?”

Guide lamps came on around the curve of the rock. A portal was opening. Then more lights.

I invited Alex to respond. He nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I wonder if we could get some information about the history of the station.”

“Of course. We have a fully automated gift shop with several applicable volumes and VRs.”

“Excellent,” Alex said. “By the way, this is Chase Kolpath, and my name is Alex Benedict.”

“I am pleased to meet you both.”

“May I ask your name?”

“George.”

We docked. The portal closed, the bay pressurized, lights came on, doors opened, and robots began attaching fuel and water lines to the ship. We climbed out. I could see several other bays, all empty. It looked as if we were the only ones currently at the station. Ahead, deck lights came on and showed the way to an exit ramp.

We turned into a brightly lighted carpeted sitting room. An avatar was waiting. He looked authoritative, official, competent.
“Hello, Mr. Benedict,”
he said cheerfully.
“Ms. Kolpath. It's good to see you. I am Captain Pinchot.”
He was tall and trim, white-haired, with craggy features and a congenial smile. He wore a white uniform with an arm patch,
epaulets, decorations, and a sash. The patch depicted a torch and a motto in unfamiliar characters. He smiled politely and steered us toward a group of three armchairs, centered around a dark-stained table. He waited until we were seated, then joined us.
“We don't get much company here anymore.”

His feet didn't quite touch the deck. The station AI needed adjustment.

Panels opened in the table, and we were looking at two glasses of red wine and a bowl of assorted cheeses and fresh fruit.
“Please, help yourselves.”

“Thank you.” I picked up a slice of melon. It looked just off the farm, tasted that way as well, and I wondered how they managed it.

“Your ship will be ready in one hour, ten minutes,”
he said.
“To get to the gift shop, simply go out the door, turn right, and follow the corridor. It's about a three-minute walk. Do you require any other assistance?”

“No, thank you, Captain,” I said, trying the wine.

“I regret I can't join you.”
The avatar graciously let me see that I'd gained an admirer.

Alex crossed one leg over the other. “May I ask how old you are, Captain?”

Pinchot was sitting ramrod straight.
“The station has been here sixteen-hundred forty-one standard years.”

“No. I mean
you,
Captain. How long have you been the operating intelligence here?”

The avatar tapped his index finger against his lips, apparently deep in thought.
“I was installed in 1321 on your calendar.”
A little more than a century ago.
“I was an upgrade.”

“Are you familiar with the
Polaris
incident? With the loss of that ship?”

“You mean with the loss of the travelers aboard her?”

“Yes. I see that you are.”

“I'm familiar with the details.”

“Captain, we're trying to determine what might have happened.”

“Excellent. I hope you succeed. It was, certainly, a puzzling incident.”
He gazed around the room.
“One of the search vessels stopped here shortly after it happened. I'm not sure what they expected to find.”

Apparently, someone else had been thinking the way Alex had.

“You know who the seven victims were?” Alex asked. “The ones who vanished?”

“I know their names. And I knew one personally.”

“Really,” I said. “Which one?”

“Nancy White.”

“You're suggesting she visited here?”

“Yes. Twice.”

“Physically?”

“Oh, yes. She sat right there where the young lady is.”

“I see,” said Alex. “Did you by any chance see her again
after
the incident?”

“
After
the incident? Oh, my, no.”