Odyssey

As I write this, the lights are out, except for the patches and my lamp. But she’s made no move to lie down. She’s sitting in a chair with her head thrown back. Her eyes are closed, but she’s awake. Valya, where are you?

— Sunday, April 26

In an overnight poll, 66 percent of people in the Council nations think the moonriders are real. Of those, 78 percent think they constitute a serious threat. A clear majority favor arming against the possibility of an attack. Of course almost half think the Earth is 6,000 years old.

— Barcelona Times, Sunday, April 26

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chapter 29

The uplifters are forever ru

— Gregory MacAllister, “Illusions at Lunch”

They didn’t believe her. Were never going to believe her.

She almost didn’t believe it herself, but damn it, Hutch had been there, something had been there. She had been breathing, and she had spoken with Hutch’s voice.

You have a mission to perform.

Amy regretted not having reached out and touched her. Not having told the woman she had no way to evacuate Origins. Why had she picked on her? How could she think anyone would believe her?

— Going to destroy it.

They’d looked at the bridge. They’d scoured the passageways. Even looked outside to see if there were moonriders. But the sky was placid.

Now they were back in the welcome center. Eric was asleep, and Mac was pretending to be asleep. She’d be okay in the morning, they’d said. It’ll be easier to talk about it then.

She did not want ever again to be alone in this place.

WHEN SHE WOKE, Mac and Eric were already in the snack shop. She could smell bacon and coffee. She grabbed some clothes, made for a washroom, cleaned, and changed. When finally she joined them, they both looked uncomfortable.

“It happened,” she said.

They nodded and looked at each other.

Best, she decided, was to leave it alone. “Any news from anybody?”

“Not really,” Eric said. “There’ve been no more reports of moonriders.”

“That’s good.” They were eating pancakes and bacon. She sat down and ordered some for herself. “Valya said the first load of people from the hotel would be here Tuesday night, right?”

“That’s correct,” said Mac. His voice echoed faintly.

“They were lucky there were a couple of ships nearby.” Her voice trailed away. “You’re looking at me fu

“Sorry,” said Mac. “I didn’t mean to. I was just wondering if you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” she said.

“Okay.”

“Amy,” said Eric, “this has been a strange trip. And the museum, when we’re stuck here and the place is empty, can be pretty spooky — ”

“Forget it.” Her breakfast came, and she took the plate, got up, and walked over to another table. Well away from them.

“Amy,” said Mac, “I wish you wouldn’t get upset.”

“I’m not upset.” She dumped maple syrup on the pancakes. “Mac, think how you’d feel if you told me something important, and I wouldn’t believe you.”

WHEN THEY’D FINISHED, Eric and Mac retreated into the welcome center, while Amy stayed in the snack bar. Mac opened his notebook, and Eric dropped into a chair, closed his eyes, and let his head drift back. He didn’t know what to do. But sitting there pretending the problem would go away was only going to increase the tension.

He got up wearily and went back into the snack bar. She’d barely touched her food. “Hi,” he said.

She looked up. “Hi.”

“Can we talk?”

“Sure.”

He sat down beside her. “It has nothing to do with you,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not that we believe you’d lie to us. We both know you wouldn’t do that. But sometimes people see things that aren’t really there. What you’re asking us to believe isn’t necessarily impossible, but it flies in the face of common sense.”

“I know.”

“If either of us told you the same story, would you believe it?”

She thought about it. “I don’t know,” she said.

“Be honest.”

“Probably not.”

“Okay. There’s an old saying: Extraordinary assertions require extraordinary proof.” She sat quietly watching him. “If you want people to believe you’ve seen a moonrider, for example, you have to be able to walk it into the room. Let us ask it some questions. Maybe do an inspection to make sure it’s not the AI run amok. Even then I probably won’t buy the story. You understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes,” she said. “I understand.”

“It’s far more likely that what you saw last night resulted from a bit too much excitement, or from being alone in a strange place, or from too many french fries, or maybe all three, than that there was actually a visitation.”

She cut out a piece of the pancakes, looked at it, exhaled, and put it in her mouth.

“It might actually have happened. I’m not saying it didn’t. What I am saying is that — ”

“I know what you’re saying, Eric.”

“Okay. Good.”

“But if I am right, and I can’t get anyone to believe me, a lot of people are going to die.”

“I hear you.” He couldn’t think of an answer for that one. “Why don’t we just take some time and walk around a bit? Go sightseeing. Maybe it’ll clear our heads.”

He was hoping it would clear hers. She was still angry. And scared. No way she could not be. But he didn’t want her to sit and just sulk for the rest of the day.

SHE TRIED TO concentrate on the pictures and exhibits. There was a portrait of Hightower’s wife receiving the posthumous commendation awarded her husband by the World Science Foundation. And another depicting the launching of the Surveyor, silhouetted against Luna. You could sit and talk with Hightower’s avatar, or with other members of the crew or the researchers. You could re-create the launch, complete with contemporary media coverage. Or watch the Surveyor cruising in low orbit over Beta Centauri III.

When they returned to the welcome center, shortly before noon, Mac still had his nose in his notebook. He looked up as they entered. “You guys really made a morning of it. I was getting ready to send in the marines.”

Eric described what they’d been doing and recommended he take some time himself to look around the place.

Amy positioned herself so she could see over Mac’s shoulder. “Doing an article for The National?” she asked.

“Not really,” he said. “There’s nothing newsworthy here. The story’s over at the Galactic.”

Amy felt a rush of warmth in her cheeks. But she said nothing.

Eric picked his bedding up off the floor and tossed it across a chair. “She’ll probably be able to take you on the second flight, Mac,” he said.

“Maybe.”

Amy was still standing behind him. “Want to know a secret, Mac?”

“Sure, kid.”

“I think she likes you.”

He laughed. “Everybody likes your uncle Mac.”

“Eric’s right. She’ll want you to go back with her. To the Galactic.”

“I’ll tell you the truth, Amy: This is looking more and more like War of the Worlds stuff. If that’s the case, I’m not sure I want to get involved with it.”

“You believe me.”

“I know you’re telling me what you believe is true. Beyond that, I’m keeping an open mind.”

“I don’t know how to prove it to you.”

“Yeah,” he said. “It would have made things simpler if she’d given you something. Some kind of proof.” He tapped his stylus on the screen. “Anyhow, I’m not so sure now I want to go anywhere near the Galactic.”

“I thought that’s what reporters did,” said Amy. “Go to the places where the action is.”

“I’m not a reporter, Love. I’m an editor. Good editors stay out of the line of fire.”

“Oh.” She let him see she knew he was kidding.

“Not that we’re afraid of anything, of course.”

“Right,” she said. “Mac, what do you think is going on?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I honestly can’t figure it out. If they have the technology to move asteroids around, I’d think they could find a better way of attacking us than throwing rocks. I mean, all that does is warn us they’re there. If they really meant to come after us, they’d use flash weapons, right? Or nukes or something. They’d hit strategic targets. Not a hotel that hasn’t even been completed yet. And an empty world.” She stood for a long moment, looking down at him. “What do you think, Amy?”

“They might be a really old race,” she said.

“And?”

“Maybe they don’t care about whether we’re warned. Maybe they’re so far ahead of us they don’t see us as a threat. Maybe they’re playing games with us. Or maybe with each other, using us as pieces. As pawns.”

Mac closed the notebook. “See who can hit the monkeys with the rock. Extra points for a big rock.” He sat back. “You might have something.”

She managed a brave smile, but hearing it put that way sent a chill through her.

AMY SPENT THE afternoon doing homework. After di

There were no recurrences of Amy’s vision. But then she didn’t go off by herself anymore. They watched a sim, and by eleven, she was exhausted and glad to climb into her sheets.

Eric also retired early. The day had been wearing for him as well. He would be glad when the experience was over. Mac was awake and working, seated in a chair with his lamp set up beside him. The rest of the welcome center was dark.

He remembered waking briefly and seeing Mac turn off his light. Then he drifted off again, waking a second time to Meredith’s soft voice. “Eric, the Lin-Kao is calling. Do you wish to take the call, or would you prefer I respond?”

“I’ll take it in the souvenir shop,” he said. He climbed to his feet and padded across the cold floor. The lights came on in the shop. He went in and closed the door behind him. “Okay, Meredith,” he said.

The Lin-Kao’s captain looked well along in years. He had white hair, grizzled features, steely blue eyes. “Surveyor.” He straightened himself. “We have just made our jump into your area. We’ll be there in about five hours.”