Arkwright (22 page)

As it turned out, it was fortunate that he and Chandi hadn't waited any longer to begin a romance.
Nathan 4
went up a couple of weeks later, a perfect liftoff followed by a problem-free rendezvous and docking with
Galactique
. When this occurred, Chandi's role in the project came to an official end. There was no practical reason for her to remain on Ile Sombre; her contract with the Arkwright Foundation was fulfilled, and she was free to go. Yet she wanted to stay on the island until
Galactique
was completed and launched, and now that she and Matt were living together, his room could be taken over by one of the
Nathan 5
technicians scheduled to arrive soon. So Ben Skinner found enough money in the budget to allow her to stay on the payroll as a part-time consultant, and that problem was fixed.

It wasn't until then that Matt realized that he, too, could leave anytime he wanted. He'd saved up enough money not only to buy a plane ticket back to the States but also to pay the rent while he searched for a new job. But he no longer wished to leave, and when he thought about it, he came to the conclusion that it wasn't simply because of Chandi. Over the past months, he'd developed an interest in
Galactique
and the Arkwright Foundation that hadn't been there before. Although he was still skeptical about the mission's chances for success, his cynicism had disappeared; Chandi's enthusiasm had rubbed off on him. He found that he also wished to remain on Ile Sombre to witness the beginning of
Galactique
's long voyage to Gliese 667C-e.

But after that? He and Chandi still had to figure out if and how they'd have a future together. This worried him, but it was far from the largest concern anyone had.

Until then, the schedule had proceeded smoothly. Each of
Galactique
's modules had been launched and docked without any major problems, but their luck couldn't last. When the time came for
Nathan 5
to be launched, the project's good fortune ran out.

Construction work on
Nathan 5
had already run behind schedule. Ground tests of the landing craft's main engine had revealed flaws serious enough for subcontractors in California to dismantle the engine and replace several critical components, which in turn necessitated another series of tests before they were satisfied that the craft was flightworthy. Because of this, loading of
Nathan 5
aboard the freighter that would carry it down the Pacific coast to the Panama Canal and through the Gulf of Mexico was pushed back by more than a month, and this delay caused concerns of its own.

Galactique
's launch schedule had been carefully timed to occur before the beginning of the Caribbean's annual hurricane season. The drawback of using the Ile Sombre Space Launch Center was the fact that it lay within a tropical zone prone to major storms. Indeed, quite a few PanAmSpace launches had been postponed because of hurricanes that suddenly developed in the South Atlantic. The mission planners were aware this when they'd devised the launch schedule; they'd hoped that, if all went well, the last module would be sent into orbit before the weather interfered.

Now that the final launch was being postponed to late summer, though, there was an increasing risk of it being disrupted by a hurricane. Meteorologists had already noticed indications that just such an event may occur; the waters of the South Atlantic were warmer than usual, and several large tropical storms had already blown through the Lesser Antilles. The Kubera could be kept within the Vehicle Assembly Building until the weather was calm enough for a launch; what everyone dreaded was
Nathan 5
being at sea when the freighter carrying it was caught by a hurricane. The loss of the module carrying the biopods and landing craft would be a major setback; it would take years for replacements to be built, during which time
Galactique
would have to be mothballed in orbit, both of which would be very expensive.

Ben Skinner met with the other mission planners, and over the course of a six-hour boardroom session, they came up with a solution. Instead of putting
Nathan 5
aboard an ocean vessel, the foundation would rent a cargo jet to fly it down to Ile Sombre. There was just such an aircraft suitable for this purpose: the C-110 Goliath, built by Boeing as a heavy-lift military transport. Its cargo bay was 130 feet by 45 feet, more than big enough for the module, and as it turned out, Boeing maintained two Goliaths in Seattle for private lease.

There was only one problem with this. Until then, the previous modules had been brought to Ile Sombre aboard ships, where they could offload at the same port where the Kubera was retrieved. The port was protected by chain-link fences and armed guards and lay close enough to the space center that security had never been an issue. But if
Nathan 5
were flown in, the plane would have to land at the island airport, where the module would be offloaded onto the tractor-trailer rig used for transporting the Kubera and be driven across Ile Sombre all on public roads, where it could be easily blocked by the protesters who were steadily gaining numbers outside the space center.

“And to make matters worse, the rig's going have to go slow,” Ben said, sitting at the end of the table where he'd just had dinner with his family. “You know the roads around here … they haven't been resurfaced in years. They're like washboards. So the driver will have to take it easy to keep
Nat
from being damaged en route from the airport, and if the protesters know it's coming—”

“They will. It's already in the news that we're doing this.” Jill didn't pause in clearing away the dinner plates. “But I don't think they're going to give us much trouble. They'll probably just stand on the side of the road and wave those idiot signs of theirs. They've never been violent before.”

Hearing this, Matt looked across the table at Chandi. They'd started coming over for dinner once a week, but he still hadn't told them about what happened that night in Ste. Genevieve. They weren't aware that at least one member of the New American Congregation was capable of violence.

Chandi didn't say anything, but she shook her head ever so slightly when their eyes met. “It might be smart to take precautions, anyway,” Matt said. “Maybe get some of our people to walk alongside the truck to keep them away.”

“Yeah, that could work.” Ben slowly nodded. “Nice idea. I'll talk it over with the planning team.” He picked up the bottle of merlot on the table and poured another drink. “Maybe your grandmother will have some other suggestions once she gets here.”

“Grandma's coming down?”

“The week after next,” Jill said. “I thought I told you.” She smiled as she returned to the table. “In fact, I'm sure I did.”

“Yeah. I just forgot.” Matt shrugged. “I've been kinda busy.”

“Yes, you have.” Ben's gaze shifted from him to Chandi, and Matt could have killed him for the sly grin on his face. “In fact, I think she wants to have a talk with you about what you're going to do once we close down operations here. Have you given any thought to that?”

Again, Matt traded a look with Chandi. This had been something they'd discussed more than once lately, usually as late-night pillow talk. “A little.”

“Yes, well, talk to Grandma when she gets here.” Again, a coy smile. “I think she has a something in mind.”

 

10

Grandma Kate had aged well for a woman in her eighties who'd never taken retrotherapy. Although she'd undergone the usual geriatric treatments available to the elderly, including cardiovascular nanosurgery and organ-clone transplants, genetic revitalization had come along too late for it to be effective for a woman of her years. So unlike her children, Kate Skinner looked her age, but nonetheless, she managed to get around, albeit slowly and carefully.

Matt and his mother met Grandma when she arrived at the airport. She was the last person to come off the plane, and once she endured the indignity of being helped down the stairs by a flight attendant, she gratefully took a seat in the two-wheel mobil that had been carried in the G8's belly compartment. Once in the chair, though, she returned to her old self. The customs official who'd given Matt a hassle a few months earlier quailed before the old woman who wasn't about to let him waste her time by opening each of her suitcases, and even her daughter-in-law knew better than to keep her waiting long at the curb for the van she'd borrowed from the space center to take her to the hotel. Kate didn't suffer fools gladly.

To Matt's surprise, though, Grandma treated him with a little more tenderness. She insisted that he ride with her in the back of the van, and once she'd dispensed with the small talk, she turned her attention to her grandson.

“So you took a job here, after all.” Not a question; a statement of fact.

“I didn't have much choice, Grandma. The plane ticket was one way.”

“I know. I bought it, didn't I?” A tight-lipped smile. “You didn't need a handout from me, kiddo. You needed a chance at a fresh start. Ben tells me you've done pretty well with it too.”

“He has, Kate.” Jill turned her head slightly without taking her gaze from the road. “I couldn't have done without Matt. He's done everything from writing news releases to managing press conferences to booking flights for reporters. Everything you'd want from a good right-hand man.”

Matt said nothing. His mother was exaggerating; his first few weeks in the media relations department had been a train wreck, and even now he was still committing the occasional gaffe. Yet if she wanted to give Grandma a good report, he wasn't about to argue.

“Are you enjoying the work?” Grandma asked.

“Yes, I am.” About this, he didn't have to lie. “I've learned a lot, and I think I've got a better appreciation of what the project is all about.”

“Do you really?” She seemed to study him. “You're not just saying that, are you?”

He decided not to reveal his lingering doubts about the feasibility of terraforming a planet and populating it with children raised by robots. “I think
Galactique
will get there,” he replied, and he hoped she'd be satisfied to let it go at that.

Apparently, she was, because she only nodded and shifted her gaze to the rain forest they were driving through. Yet the conversation wasn't finished. She picked it up again once they'd arrived at the Hotel Au Soleil and she was taken to the cottage she'd be sharing with her children. Believing that he was no longer needed, Matt was about to leave, but then she raised a hand.

“Stick around a minute. I want to talk to you a little more.” She looked at Jill. “You can go now. He'll catch up with you later.”

His mother was a little surprised by this, but she didn't object. She left the cottage, closing the front door behind her. Grandma waited until she was gone, and then she turned to Matt again. “So … thought about what you're going to do once we close up shop here?”

Matt remembered his father raising the same question over dinner a couple of weeks earlier. “I dunno. Do what everyone else is doing, I guess—go home and get another job. I might stay in media relations, turn that into a career.”

“Yeah, you could do that. Your job here will be a short item on your résumé, but I'm sure it'll help you land a position somewhere. Maybe you'll even keep it for a while, if you don't get bored and quit. That's always been a problem for you, hasn't it?”

“Sort of.”

“Sort of.” She repeated what he'd said flatly as if she had little doubt that he would. “Well, if you want to go back to drifting, that's your right. I won't stop you. But I can offer you something better.”

She paused, waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, she went on, “Even after
Galactique
is on its way, the foundation's work won't be done. It's going to take almost fifty years for the ship to reach Eos, but it's not like we're just sticking a note in a bottle and tossing it into the sea. It'll regularly report back to us, telling us what's going on, and even though those reports will get further and further apart, we'll still have to listen for them just in case something happens that we should know about.”

“You want me to do that?”

“I'd like for you to join the tracking team, yes. The foundation is taking over an old university observatory in Massachusetts, out in the Berkshires not far from where your great-great-grandfather used to live. This is where the laser telemetry received by the lunar tracking station will be relayed. It's rather isolated, but we'll be keeping a small staff there, paying them from foundation funds to maintain contact with
Galactique
.”

“I don't know anything about—”

“You can learn. Ben can teach you. In fact, he's probably going to be running the operation; didn't he tell you this already?” Matt shook his head, and his grandmother sighed. “Oh, well, I guess he was expecting me to tell you about it. Anyway, he'll be in charge, but he's not going to be around forever. Sooner or later, someone will have to take over for him.”

Grandma gave him a meaningful look. Matt said nothing, for he didn't know what to say. He'd been half expecting her to offer him a job with the Arkwright Foundation, but a lifetime commitment was something else entirely. He didn't know if he was ready to spend years on a mountain out in the middle of nowhere, listening for signals transmitted from a spacecraft receding farther and farther into the interstellar distance.

“I don't know,” he began.

“You don't have to say yes or no right away.” Grandma shook her head. “Just think about it awhile, all right? The job's there if you want it. We won't have any trouble finding someone else if you decide to give it a pass, but…” She smiled. “I'd like to keep it in the family, if you know what I mean.”