Odyssey

Meantime, it was getting late. “Time to load our passengers, Eric.”

Her commlink vibrated. It was Bill.

“We have a transmission from the Granville,” he said.

“Let’s hear it, Bill.” Pray for good news.

“Salvator.” The voice sounded French. “We have just made our jump. Did not get as close as we’d hoped. But we are on our way and will be there in three hours.”

Her heart sank. Eric stared at her. “What?”

“Two hours late.” Granville was their bus. She acknowledged, and did the numbers again: WhiteStar II could take five. Seven with the air tanks they should have on board.

That would leave what?

Eleven.

Valya has been magnificent. She helped Estevan pull herself together, and has managed to convince everyone by her quiet, cool confidence that they’re all going to get home okay.

But she informed me just minutes ago that the Granville won’t be here in time. She’s in now giving Estevan the bad news. I don’t envy her, going through all this. And the ironic part of it is that she knows she’s been terminated.

— Sunday, May 10

chapter 42

We are at heart a cowardly species. But that’s good. Fear is a reflex installed to keep us alive. But sometimes the fittings come loose. When that happens, and the victims routinely defy their instincts to clear out, they often do not live to reproduce. Considering the probabilities, it’s hard to understand why courage has not been bred completely out of us.

— Gregory MacAllister, Life and Times

Terri Estevan was crushed by the news. “Is there no chance?” she asked in a trembling voice. “None at all? Maybe one of the ships will get lucky, and jump into a favorable position. Like the WhiteStar.”

“It’s possible,” said Valya. “But it’s unlikely.”

“All right.” They were alone. Valya had emptied the room before telling her.

For a long minute neither spoke. Estevan collapsed into a chair and fought to stifle a sob.

Valya did not know what to say. It was, after all, Estevan and ten of her associates who were going to be stuck there when the moonriders arrived. Valya would be well on her way out of town. There was no way she could offer consolation. “We’ll take everyone who has a breather,” she said. “Better not wait for the WhiteStar.”

“Can you do that? Is there room?”

“We’ll make room.”

SHE RECALLED HER staff.

Kleigma

They knew as soon as they came back into the room that something was terribly wrong. Estevan stared past them. “The Granville’s not going to make it,” she said.

Kleigma

Estevan braced herself. Took a deep breath. “I will stay, of course. I’m sorry, but I must ask you, each of you, to join me.”

“Maybe they won’t attack right away,” said Julie.

“It’s possible,” said Valya. “They took their time at the East Tower.”

“I’ll stay with you,” said Angie.

Kleigma

“What happens,” said Santos, “if I say no?”

“I don’t know.” Estevan wiped tears out of her eyes. “I honestly don’t know what to do.”

“Me, too,” said Julie. “I’ll stay.”

“I don’t want to do this,” said Santos. “I didn’t sign on for anything like this.”

“I know,” she said. “But we’re department heads.” She said it the way she might have said warriors. Or, thought Valya, Spartans. “We can’t ask others to stay behind if we clear out.”

“We ought to be able to squeeze a few more people into the Salvator.”

“Life support is already overloaded,” said Valya. “It won’t take any more.”

“I’ll stay,” said Ho. He looked as if he were in pain.

Santos shook his head. “I’m not going to do it.”

“You don’t really have a choice,” said Kleigma

Santos’s eyes slid shut. His lips were pressed tight together, and his face was a study in agony.

Unless the WhiteStar arrived quickly, seven more would have to stay.

Estevan caught Valya’s eye. “Better get the Salvator loaded and moving.” She got to her feet. “I better go tell every body.”

Valya had been looking for an opportunity to exit, and that was it. “You’re right,” she said. “I better get going.”

They all looked at her. How weak had that sounded?

Estevan got up. Shook her hand. Embraced her. “Thanks for everything you’ve done.”

“I wish we could have done more.” She said good-bye to the others, wished them luck, and with an overwhelming sense of relief, or guilt, got out of there.

THE CORRIDORS WERE almost empty. Eric had loaded the Salvator. Valya collected everyone else with a breather and told them to board. After they’d gone through the airlock, eighteen remained in the tower.

Two women stopped her to ask if she’d heard anything new from the WhiteStar. “It’s about twenty minutes out,” she said.

So were the globes.

One of the two explained she was scheduled to leave on the Granville. She was an attractive woman, about twenty-five, black hair, dark eyes. With a scared smile. Trying to be brave. “It’s getting late,” she said.

“I know,” Valya told her. “I don’t have details.” She broke away and felt their eyes on her back as she hurried into the ship. Behind her, Estevan was calling everyone to the dining area.

SHE WAS RELIEVED to get back to the Salvator, to get on board, and close the hatch behind her. Put a barrier between herself and the Tower.

The interior was jammed. Thirty-plus people on a ship built for seven. Bill, aware that the airlock had shut, made his a

Eric appeared to help with compliance. Several of her passengers were crowded into the common room. Others, she knew, were down in cargo. She exchanged smiles with them, squeezed past, and went onto the bridge.

“Everybody on board?” she asked Eric.

“I hope so,” he said. They were stacked on top of one another.

“How about the lander?”

“Lander’s full.” Thirty-five altogether. Plus Eric and herself.

“Moonriders are sixteen minutes away,” said Bill.

“Where’s the WhiteStar?”

“Estimate twenty-four minutes.”

Well, there was nothing she could do about it. It was time to get clear. Get as far away as she could.

She activated the allcom. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be getting under way in about sixty seconds. We’re going to take it slowly, but anyone who’s not in a seat please find something to hold on to. I’ll tell you when you can move around freely.”

“What’s wrong?” Eric asked.

She shook her head. Nothing.

Behind them, a female passenger sat on the deck in the hatchway. She was using a breather.

The ship’s scopes had picked up the black globes. They approached side by side, straddling and slightly above the tube.

“Where’s the Granville?”

“They made up some time,” said Bill. “They’re one hour fifty-three minutes out.”

An hour and a half behind the moonriders.

“Bill, I assume you haven’t been able to contact them?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’ve been in constant contact.”

“With the moonriders?”

“With the Granville. I apologize. I misunderstood. No, I have been transmitting constantly to the moonriders. They do not respond.”

“We’d better get started, don’t you think?” Eric’s voice. Somehow far away.

“Yeah.”

He activated his harness. He wasn’t going to need it, and he knew that. He was sending a message.

Nobody subtler than Eric.

“Valya.”

“No,” she said.

“No what?”

“I can’t do this.”

Outside, the long narrow dock pointed toward the stars.

“Can’t do what?”

“You’re captain, Eric.”

“What?”

“I’m going back.”

“What do you mean, going back? There isn’t time.”

She got up. The woman on the deck watched them curiously. Eric grabbed her arm. Held on. “You’ll be okay,” she said. “You don’t need me.”

“You’ll get yourself killed.”

“I’ll take an e-suit with me.”

“What will you do with an e-suit?”

“If I have to, I’ll jump off the platform.” She shook her head angrily. No time to argue. “Bill?”

“Yes, Valya.”

“When Eric tells you to, I want you to pull away to a range of three hundred kilometers.”

“Okay.”

“Do whatever Eric says. He’ll be my alternate until you hear otherwise.”

“Yes, Valya.”

“Eric, the Granville will be here in about an hour and a half. The Bloomberg and the Tanaka are ru

“I can’t manage this,” he said.

“Sure you can. All you have to do is tell Bill what you want him to do, and he’ll take care of it. Transfer everybody with a breather to one of the other ships. There isn’t plenty of time to do it, but there is time.”

“All right.”

“After you’ve done that, get the people out of the shuttles. The shuttles here.”

“Goddam it, Valya, I wish you wouldn’t do this. I don’t see what you can do for them.”

“Eric, please — ”

“Just tell me why.”

She had no answer. Maybe she could help. Maybe she just couldn’t bear the thought that Estevan was a better woman than she was. Or Angie. Or a bunch of other people.

She collected an e-suit harness from the maintenance locker. But it had no oxygen. The tank had been given to one of the passengers. She looked down at the young woman on the deck. “May I have the breather?” she said.

The woman stared back at her, frightened. “Why?” She had a Russian accent.

“It’s okay. You won’t need it. There’ll be one less rider.”

SHE DIRECTED BILL to reopen the airlock. Eric watched her leave the bridge. Listened to her reassure her passengers — his passengers now — as she passed through the common room. Then she was gone and the airlock hatch closed.

Dumb.

He changed seats. Felt his authority increase. He was the captain.