Odyssey

He waited until she’d finished. “What’s wrong?”

“Our visitors again,” she said.

“What is it this time? Another of the monitors?”

“No.” She bit her lip. “There’s another asteroid.”

“What? Headed for the same world? For Terranova?”

“This one’s apparently zeroed in on the Galactic.”

“The Galactic? You mean the hotel? Where we’re going next?”

“That’s the one. Ops says it’s a monster. Makes the Terranova rock look like a pebble.”

“What the hell is it with these critters?”

“Don’t know. But they do seem to have maniacal tendencies.”

“It’s actually going to hit the hotel?” That was unbelievable.

“That’s what they’re saying.”

“When?”

“Thursday morning. At about ten.”

It was Saturday evening. Eric frowned. “Are they going to be able to get everybody off?”

“Don’t know,” she said. “I guess it’s going to be close.”

“We can help,” said Amy. “It’s nearby.”

Valya nodded. “We’re going to. But look, I’m going to have to make two trips. I’m going to bring them back here.”

“Is there time to do that?” asked Eric.

“Maybe. If I get going now.”

“If you get going,” said MacAllister. “We’re staying here?”

“I need the space, Mac.”

THERE WAS NO provision at the museum for overnight guests. The original living compartments for passengers and crew had virtual furniture. “We’ll get our gear from the ship,” said Amy. “We can camp right here.” In the welcome center.

“Are we sure,” said MacAllister, “there’s nobody else who can carry out this rescue?”

“We’re getting help. They have a ship at the hotel, which has probably already started over with some people.”

“Do they have to bring them here?” asked MacAllister.

“It’s the closest place. It’ll drop them off and go back for a second group.”

“This place is going to get crowded.”

“Can’t be helped, Mac. Meredith tells me there’s plenty of food here, so it should be okay. As soon as it’s able, Union will send a ship to pick everybody up.” She looked worried.

“Lucky we happened to be on the scene.” MacAllister had a difficult time masking a grumble.

“Talk later. We need to get moving. You guys will want to get your stuff off the ship.” She spun on her heel and headed for the exit.

Eric fell in line behind her. “I hope they bring their own blankets,” he said.

MACALLISTER BUNDLED HIS toiletries into a bag, grabbed extra clothes and towels, and looked around, trying to think what else he would need. Valya was at the airlock, talking on the commlink while they finished getting their gear. “…Leaving here now,” she said. “I’ll give you a TOA when I get into the area. I can carry nine. That’s pushing it a bit, but we’ll be okay for a short flight. Salvator out.”

“Valya,” MacAllister said, “they do have ru

“Yes, Mac. That shouldn’t be a problem. And there are two washrooms off the welcome center.”

He scooped up a pillow and a blanket, his reader, a lamp, the clothes and toiletries, and hauled them out through the hatch. He wondered about hot water, but that was for another time.

Eric was already in the museum passageway with his bags. Amy came out, loaded down, and MacAllister gave her a hand. “You guys got everything?” Valya asked.

They hoped so. Eric remembered that he’d forgotten his notebook and hurried back inside.

“It won’t be the most comfortable sleeping in the world, Mac,” Valya said, “but look at the story you’re getting.”

“The story’s out at the hotel.”

“Okay. Let’s see how things stand after the first flight. If I can take you on the second one, I will.”

The comment surprised him. He didn’t think his feelings were that transparent.

Eric came out with his notebook, and they said good-bye to her.

“You have any questions,” Valya said, “just ask the avatar. I’ve told her to switch over to Eastern time, by the way, so the museum’s lights will be in the same zone you are. You can reach me if you have to. Meredith knows how to make the co

HE JOINED THE others in the welcome center. They had no view of the outside, but felt the walls tremble as the Salvator pulled away. Then everything was quiet again. He listened to air flowing through the ducts.

“What are we going to do for the next few days?” asked Eric.

Amy looked around. “Did anybody bring the chess set?”

They looked at one another. Apparently no one had.

“The gift shop has some vids,” said Amy. “And a player.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” said Eric. “Let’s find something we can watch.”

But all the vids were documentaries about interstellar exploration, or thrillers with deep-space monsters and black holes. They selected one more or less at random, Attack of the Heliotropes, dragged chairs into the gift shop, and settled in to watch. MacAllister had never been a fan of that sort of thing, but it seemed sporting to join them.

After twenty minutes he couldn’t stand it anymore. It was embarrassing because Amy and Eric were both caught up in the show. But he pretended he was tired, asked whether anyone would object if he dimmed the lights in the main room. Then he retreated from the Heliotropes, arranged his pillows, angled his lamp, and took care of the lighting. He looked through the reader index and picked Arthur Hallinan’s Rum, Rebels, and Red Giants: An Intellectual History of Western Civilization from the Desert Wars to the Begi

MacAllister knew Hallinan personally. He was a cranky son of a bitch, a guy who didn’t allow disagreement, who gave no credit for sense to anybody else. It had galled MacAllister to be forced on three separate occasions to give positive reviews to his books. But he was good.

In the distance, as if from another world, he could hear the roar of engines and the hum of particle beam weapons as the united fleets of Earth fought it out with the Heliotropes.

AMY KNEW THE vid was childish, that it was over the top, that it was good versus evil and no room for complexity. But it was still fun. It was what she liked, and she hoped there would never come a day when she’d forget how much joy could be found in an alien invasion. Eric was into it, too. And when it was over and the good guys had won, especially the good guy with the brown eyes and the lovely rear end, she sat back with a sense of elation.

They walked out into the main area. It was dark, save for the glowstrips along the overhead and the designations over the exits and the washrooms, and Mac’s lamp. But Mac was asleep, snoring softly.

It was getting late. She arranged her own bedding while Eric wandered down to the snack shop. She hadn’t noticed earlier, but the place made a lot of echoes.

She found herself thinking about the Salvator, and how they were alone in the museum. The news about the second asteroid was u

She called up the museum’s AI. “I have a question for you, Meredith.”

“Yes, Amy?”

“If an asteroid were coming on a collision course with the museum, would you know about it?”

“The sensors would pick it up,” she said.

“How close would it be when they did?”

“That depends how big the asteroid is.”

“Two kilometers across.”

“We would detect it at a range of about three thousand kilometers.”

Eric returned with buns and fruit drinks. “How fast do they travel?” she asked him. “Asteroids?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea. Probably ten or twenty kilometers a second.”

“Make it ten,” she said. “A slow one. That would give us five minutes warning.”

“Not very much,” said Eric.

She looked over at Mac. “Nothing bothers him, does it?”

Eric gri

“You scared, Eric?”

He nodded. “A little.”

SHE RETREATED TO one of the restrooms. There was no shower, so she had to use the sink to wash up. When she was finished she slipped into her nightgown, pulled on a robe, and padded back outside. Eric had turned off Mac’s lamp.

He’d gone into the other washroom, where she could hear him splashing around. All the bedding they’d brought from the Salvator had been placed in the middle of the room. She thought about moving hers into the gift shop to get some privacy, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be that far away from the others. Anyway, they might take offense if she went off by herself.

She climbed onto the pillows, which didn’t work very well. She couldn’t move without sliding off onto the floor. Finally, she got things arranged, lay back, whispered good night to Mac, and closed her eyes. Moments later Eric arrived. “Not very comfortable,” he said, keeping his voice low.

“It’s okay.”

“You need anything, Amy?”

“I’m good,” she said.

“All right. See you in the morning.”

It was one of those places where, when the lights were out, you kept hearing whispers. Air ru

In response to the attack on the Galactic Hotel, Jeremy Wicker (G-OH) yesterday introduced a bill requiring that all interstellar vehicles be armed. In a related development, there is now bipartisan support for the Brockton-Schultz measure, which would demand that the World Council begin construction of a space navy.

— Oversight, Saturday, April 25

chapter 28

Courage is perhaps our most admirable trait. The man, or woman, who possesses it is able to plunge ahead, despite dangers, despite warnings, despite hazards of all kinds, to attack the task at hand. Often, it is indistinguishable from stupidity.

— Gregory MacAllister, “The Hero in the Attic”

Amy woke up twice during the night. The second time she thought she heard something in the outer corridor, the one that led back to the exhibition rooms. She lay for some minutes, barely breathing, but there were only the usual sounds of the museum, the creaking, the electronic whispers, the flow of air, the barely audible hum of the cleaning system keeping the dust off the exhibits. She felt the slight pressure toward the outer bulkhead generated by the Surveyor’s movement around its own axis. Then she heard it again.