Echo (30 page)

Read Echo Online

Authors: Jack McDevitt

Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #Adventure, #Fiction

BOOK: Echo
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“Where was that?”
“Here. At the Club. I was in here one evening. With Harry.” That set her off on Harry again, and I had to guide her back. “Must have been twenty, thirty years ago. Cavallero came in. A little guy. With red hair.”
“That sounds like him,” I said.
“He had a big fight with Rachel Bannister. You know her?”
“I met her once,” I said, trying to sound casual. “A fight about what?”
She shrugged. “Damned if I know.” Donna was drinking dark wine. She studied it for a moment. “Bannister was a cute little thing. I can still see it. She was sitting over there in that corner table.” She looked that way. “She was another of the World’s End pilots.”
“So what happened?”
“He came in and sat down. Cavallero did. There were a couple of guys with him. Or women, I really don’t remember. I mean, this was a long time ago.” She stopped for a breath. “Anyhow, Rachel got up, walked over, and just stood there staring down at him. He didn’t see her at first, but then he did. And he said something, and
she
said something. I wasn’t close enough to hear much of it. But I caught the end.”
“What was that?”
“She told him she hoped he burned in hell.”
“That sounds pretty serious.”
“That’s what she said.”
“What did Cavallero do?”
“I don’t know. Next time I looked over, he was gone.”
“You ever ask Rachel what it was about?”
“I didn’t know her well enough to do that. But Suze would probably know.”
“Who’s Suze?”
“Suze Castor. His ex. She lives over in the Starlight.”
 
Seventeen years before, long after she’d divorced Cavallero, Suze had married another pilot, Lance Peabody. Lance was currently on his way to Omicron IV with a load of physicists who were studying a biosystem that had developed in a methane environment. Or something like that.
I got some pictures of her from the data banks but decided it wouldn’t be a good idea simply to go knocking on her door. Instead, I waited for her next morning in the hotel dining room, where I nursed several cups of coffee. But she didn’t show up, and eventually I moved out into the lobby, just in time to see her come through one of the doorways, pass the desk, and start out of the building.
I followed at a discreet distance.
She looked pretty good. The kind of woman who will always attract stares. She had sharply defined features, with brown hair cut short in the fashion of a female executive. She wore an expression that suggested she could take care of herself.
She looked in some shop windows and eventually went into Karl’s Dellacondan Restaurant. They were showing her to a table as I wandered in. They put me on the opposite side of the room. I started another cup of coffee. Then, after a few minutes I got up and went over. “Excuse me,” I said, “but aren’t you Suze Castor?”
She looked up, surprised. “Yes, I am. And you’re—?”
“Chase Kolpath. I work for Rigel.”
“Oh.” She gave me an inquisitive smile. “How did you know my name?”
I tried to look puzzled. “We’ve met somewhere. I think maybe the Pilots’ Club?”
“I haven’t been in there in a year or more.”
“Oh. Well, I don’t know. Your face just looked familiar. Are you by any chance staying at the Starlight?”
“Is that important?”
“Somebody pointed you out.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Ummm. World’s End. That’s what it was. I’d mentioned that I had an uncle who’d run flights for World’s End, and they said you had some sort of connection to them.”
“Oh.” Her manner softened somewhat. “Yes. I used to be married to one of their pilots.”
“Who was that?” I said. “I might know him.”
She looked at one of the chairs. “Join me?”
“Sure.” She mentioned Hal Cavallero. Then we babbled for a few minutes. “My husband works for Rigel,” she said.
“I just started myself. Seems like a decent company.”
“It’s okay.”
“I don’t guess you get to see much of him, though.”
When an opening presented itself, I took the conversation back to Cavallero. “I understand he was the guy who decided where the tours went.”
“That’s right. Yes.”
A bot brought water and took our orders. When it had gone, I commented casually that she’d probably noticed World’s End was in the news a few weeks ago.
“Bannister,” she said.
“Yes.”
“And that goofy antique dealer.”
“Benedict.”
“Yeah. I never quite got the connection between the two, but to be honest, I didn’t care very much.”
“Did you know her? Rachel Bannister?”
“I can’t really say I did. I met her a couple of times. But I couldn’t have picked her out of a crowd.”
“I understand she had a temper.”
She laughed. “She went after Hal one night in the Club.” She paused. Sipped the water. “It’s so long ago I’d forgotten about it.”
“What was it about?”
“Damned if I know. I was there when it happened, and all I remember is a lot of staring back and forth. Then Bannister burst into tears and said how
something
was Hal’s fault.”
“But you don’t know what the
something
was?”
“No idea. I just don’t recall. I remember not understanding at the time what they were talking about.”
I nodded sympathetically. “I’d heard she could be like that.”
“Yeah. Whatever it was, she was really upset.”
“Hal never told you what it was about?”
“He didn’t want to talk about it. He said something about its being a problem at work and wouldn’t go any further. I didn’t see any reason to push it.” Someone she knew passed by. There was a brief exchange, then we were alone again. “When I first got to know him,” she said, “Hal was outgoing. Then, about that same time he had the argument with Bannister, he changed. I never understood why. He got quiet. We used to laugh a lot, then it went away.”
She changed the subject, and we talked about living with long flights, marriages trying to survive when spouses only see each other five or six days a month, and how difficult life in orbit could be. “You get tired of the shuttles,” she said, “and not having a base on the ground, a home. Here, the world is the station, you can’t jump into the skimmer and go for a ride. The scenery never changes.”
We got along pretty well. At the end, when we’d left Karl’s and were getting ready to go our own ways, she stopped. “I’ll tell you this, Chase:
Bannister
wasn’t a name you could mention to Hal. He never talked about her, and when I’d heard she had quit World’s End, and said something about it to him, he nodded, and said
good
. Occasionally, when we were with friends, and somebody mentioned her name, he used to get angry. I don’t know why. I
never
knew why.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Telling the truth requires no skill whatever. But getting away with a lie—Ah, that takes talent.
—Eskaiya Black,
Lost in Aruba
 
 
 
 
 
I’m not sure when I made the decision. But a few hours after talking with Suze, I found myself on the shuttle, riding down to the terminal. I was barely in the door of my condo when Mr. Coppel, the complex owner, informed me that he had people coming over that afternoon to look at the place. “I don’t expect there’ll be any problem with a quick sale,” he said. “How soon can you be out?”
 
I needed to talk to Cavallero again. But I didn’t have time to take the train to Carnaiva, and I didn’t want to do this over the circuit. So I rented a skimmer and flew out. On the way, I called Robin and left a message that I wasn’t going to make our date that evening. I apologized and promised I’d make it up to him.
I turned the thing over to the AI and slept much of the way, waking as we passed Indira. Cremation Station. The last segment of the ride is probably the dullest two hundred kilometers on the planet. It’s pure prairie, unbroken by anything. The most exciting feature of the landscape is that there are occasional slight rises. And a few wild grazing herds of bofins.
In the late afternoon, local time, I settled to the ground just outside the Space Base.
Cavallero was not in his office when I arrived. But the AI let him know I was there and asked me to wait. A few minutes later, he walked in, obviously on guard, not happy to see me again. But he gave me a forced smile and said he hadn’t expected to have the pleasure of my presence again so soon.
“Hal,” I said as jauntily as I could manage, “how are you doing?” I’m not a very good actor, and I did not succeed in putting him at ease.
“I’m good. What brings you back to Carnaiva? Still working on that book?” His voice carried an implied sneer. He hadn’t liked being lied to.
He didn’t offer a chair. “Do you have a minute to talk with me?”
“I’m kind of busy.” He showed me a pair of shears. Then realized how silly it looked. “What do you need, Chase?”
“I won’t take much of your time.”
“Okay.”
Outside, kids were playing, yelling, throwing a ball around. “You and Rachel Bannister worked together for several years. Do I have that right?”
“Umm. Yes, more or less. I told you before, Chase, it’s been an awfully long time.”
“I understand there was some tension between you.”
“Well, that’s not true. Where’d you hear that?”
“There are a lot of people who know about it. Apparently there was an incident at the Skydeck Club.”
He went pale. “I’m sorry. Chase, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Some of the people who were there still remember it. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
He looked at me a long time. Then he lowered himself into a chair. “Please.” His voice shook. “Chase, you look like a decent woman. I’m begging you: Walk away from this. Drop it. You can’t do any good for anyone. Let it go.” He wiped the back of his hand against his mouth. “
Please.
Leave it alone.”
“Hal—” He shook his head. Clamped his lips together. Tears rolled down his cheeks. “You can trust me,” I said. “If it’s as you say, it’ll go no further.”
He shook his head violently and turned away from me.
I went back to the skimmer and called Alex. “Is my job still open?”
 
Eliot Statkins was less happy when I told him I would make the final scheduled flight for Rigel, but that it would be my last.
“Why, Chase?” He tried to speak like a father, but he couldn’t bring it off. “We can always find another pilot, but you’re throwing away a golden opportunity. Why don’t you take some time and think about it? There’s no big hurry. When you get to Arkon, on the outbound leg, send me a message. To me, personally. Let me know what you want to do. Meanwhile, I’ll take no action.”
“Eliot, I’m just not comfortable on these flights.”
“Why not?” He looked shocked by the proposition. Surely I recognized how unreasonable it was.
“It has nothing to do with the flights themselves. It’s just that—”
“Yes?”
“My future’s with Alex.”
“With the antique dealer?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t believe you really think that. An antique dealer? Well, it’s your call. But think about it. That’s all I’m asking. I know we don’t pay as much as he does, but we’ll still be here in thirty years. Hell, he could shut down tomorrow. With us, you get a lot of benefits, not to mention housing. A fat retirement. Security. And where else would you find a career this interesting? Most pilots would kill for your job.”
I thanked him, and told him I’d send a message from Arkon. An hour later, I boarded the
Gonzalez
and started getting ready for departure.

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