"You don't want to tell me."
"Not really."
He stopped to catch his breath. "Kim, I'm sorry. You're a valuable member of the organization and I'd have preferred not to lose you, but you don't really give me any choice. I want you to go back to your office and write out your resignation. Make it effective thirty days from now. That way I can give you a month's pay. But don't come back." He stared at her across the top of his desk. "You know I'd change this if I could, but I warned you, damn it. I did warn you this was going to happen."
He scowled and waved her out of the room. But when she started for the door he stopped her. "Kim," he said, "if you need a reference, make sure it's addressed to me personally and not to the organization."
The words didn't register. "Matt, this isn't fair. I haven't done anything wrong. I've violated no procedure-"
"You disobeyed a directive. I told you to stay away from this-" He stuttered a couple of times and waved one hand in a frustrated circle.
She glared at him. "Don't you care what the truth is?"
"Okay, what is the truth? We've got one woman dead and one missing. If Kile Tripley did it, it doesn't much matter because he's also gone to a better world. So it's not as if we're looking for justice.
"You find a bookshelf model and a sketch on a wall and on the basis of that you think somebody met a celestial. If they did, why the goddamn hell didn't they tell somebody? Anybody?"
"I don't know, Matt. But if there's nothing to the story, why'd they gundeck the logs?"
"I don't know that they did."
"You can check them if you want. When you do, and when you find out that what I've told you is true, I'd like very much to borrow the McCollum."
His eyes widened. "You're a remarkable woman, Kim, I'll say that for you. But maybe you didn't hear me earlier: You're not working for us anymore."
"How'd it go?" asked Solly.
"They fired me." She had a blowup of Tripley's Valiant taped to her wall.
"Goddammit, Kim, I told you that would happen."
She was trembling, with anger, frustration, with a sense of the sheer injustice of it all.
"Maybe it'll blow over," he said. "Just sit tight for a bit.
Give them a chance to calm down until they discover they need you."
"No," she said. "I don't think that's going to happen." They embraced and neither spoke. "Look," he said at last, "I have some friends at Albestaadt." Albestaadt was a major research facility on Pacifica. "I can't promise anything, but I could put in a word. I think there'd be a decent chance. And you could go back to being a researcher."
"Thanks, Solly. Maybe later. I've got a point to make first."
"You're going to continue to push this thing?"
"Might as well. I've nothing to lose now."
"You could get sued. Anyhow, what more can you do? Where can you go from here?"
"I'm going to prove the encounter happened."
"How will you do that?"
"The Hunter's radio, Solly. It was omnidirectional, remember? With a booster."
She saw his features brighten. "You really think it would work?"
"Why not? All we need is the right equipment."
Solly's eyes met hers. "You'll need a starship. I don't guess Matt agreed to let you have the Mac?"
"No. Not exactly."
"So-How do you plan to manage it?"
"I was thinking about stealing it."
"Kim-"
"I mean it, Solly. I'll do what I have to."
"I believe you would."
"Solly, I can't just walk away from this. If we're right, it'll be the prime scientific discovery of all time.
We'll be famous, immortal, whatever you like."
"Rich?" said Solly.
"I'd guess rich beyond imagination."
"Yeah. Well, rich is good. But the risk is a little high. You're going to have to count me out, Kim. I'm sorry, but I draw the line at grand theft. Which is what this would be." His features were flushed, his lips pressed tight together, his eyes hard. "I'm sorry. But this is way out of line."
Yeah. How could she have expected anything else? "I understand, Solly."
"How about chartering a ship? Better yet, rent one. I'll pilot."
She'd considered it. But she needed the specialized communication equipment of the Institute vessels.
"I'll help you pay for it," he said.
"Won't work. We need FAULS." That was the Flexible Array, Unified Long-range Sensing System. If somebody did a radio broadcast a hundred light-years out, FAULS would pick it up.
"Kim," he said. "Let it go."
Hyperyacht, Inc., had an assortment of interstellars ranging from sleek executive models to economy- class buses. But the cheapest were not licensed for voyages outside the Nine World bubble, and the better ones were impossibly expensive. Worse, even if she could somehow meet the cost and persuade the Institute to let her have the communication gear, it couldn't be installed.
She put it aside and went home to stare at the ocean.
And to send out resumes. They went to a dozen research institutions around the globe, but she had little hope any would respond favorably. There wasn't much to put in the Current Projects and Recent Accomplishments blocks.
I am on the verge of making contact with an intelligent species.
Sure I am.
She could have undoubtedly gotten a job somewhere as a fundraiser, but she didn't want to spend the rest of her life pleading for money. Might as well simply retire to a leisurely existence like the majority of the population. Accept her monthly government allotment and sit on the porch.
She took to haunting the shoreline. The beach was especially appealing in winter, and its bleakness fit her mood. There was rarely anyone else out. Dressed in an insulated suit, she circled the island every day, moving at a rapid clip, stopping occasionally to look at the shells.
A seacoast is a special kind of place, she thought. It's like the edge of a forest, or the foothills of a mountain range, where we stand at the rim of our daily existence, looking out at something quite different. Occasionally Kim would stay out past twilight, watching the tide run, letting the night roll into her soul. The beach was a sacred place to her, one of those areas where the infinite touches down.
She was in the presence of two oceans, one of water and one of space-time, and they somehow tended, after dark, to get mixed together. Pick the right spot, where the only real sound is the murmur of the surf, and it was possible to stroll along the damp sand and feel her blood run in sync with the tides.
An ocean's edge is by definition a meeting place between the magnificent and the mundane. We listen to seashells and hear our own heartbeat.
When she got home each day, there was a message waiting from Solly: You okay? How's everything going? I've talked to the people at Albestaadt. They've got a position for you if you want it. You'll have to interview for it, of course, but the fix is in. I've told them about you and they're excited at the prospect.
She responded by thanking him politely: Thanks for your efforts but I don't think so.
The Moritami Orbital Research Center surprised her by inviting her in to interview for an entry-level researcher's position. It was conducted at their administrative offices in Marathon and she did well.
Interviews were one of her specialties. When they informed her she'd have to live off-world, she knew she had the job. They told her they'd call her and she came back out into the hard sunlight with mixed feelings. But the bright side was she'd be doing astrophysics again.
Again.
Truth was, she'd never really functioned within her specialty.
When she got home, Solly was waiting.
"How'd it go?" he asked.
She wasn't surprised that he knew. The world community of physicists and astronomers was tight-knit.
Information usually got around pretty quickly. "Okay," she said. "I think they're going to take me on."
He was dressed in seagoing casuals, and wore his captain's cap with its anchor emblem. The cap was pushed over to one side, an affectation he indulged only in her presence because he knew it made him look ridiculous and inevitably cheered her. "So you finally got what you want."
"Yes."
"No more fundraising."
"Nope."
"Maybe this thing'll turn out to be a blessing."
There was something about the phrase, or maybe his tone, or maybe simply his presence. Because suddenly she was angry and her eyes were damp. She wanted so desperately to follow the track of the Hunter. To find out what was out there. To find out what had happened to Emily.
"It's okay, babe," he said. He pulled her close and stroked her hair.
"You're getting your cheek wet," she said.
He held onto her until she calmed down. Then he stepped back and his blue eyes grew intense. "Listen."
He took off his cap, ran his fingers through his hair, and put it back on. Straight, this time. "If you're still up to it, we can take the Hammersmith."
She looked at him, not sure she'd heard correctly. "You talked them into letting us use one of the ships?"
"Not exactly," he said. "But I guess maybe we could take it."
Twenty minutes later, she called Moritami. "Thanks for considering me," she told them. "But I'm going to be unavailable for awhile."
16
So grab up your pack and come on with me. And we'll hop a fast freight to the stars...
-BUD WEBSTER,.
"The Ballad of Kansas McGriff," 1998 C.E.
"Do you know," asked Solly, "how long it would take to get out into the area where the Hunter was?"
"It's forty days, seventeen hours, and twenty-six minutes to the target site."
"I'm impressed. You've done your homework."
"Thank you."
"Now all you need is a means of transportation." His gaze turned inward. "If we do this, we're putting everything on the line. Career, freedom, reputation, you name it. So my question to you is, are you sure?"
"Solly," she said. "It'll work. I know it'll work."
"That wasn't the question."
"Am I sure I want to do whatever's necessary to get at the truth? Yes. Absolutely. Am I sure we're on the right track?" She had to think about that one. But the cold mad gaze of the thing in the water had imprinted itself in her soul, where it exercised a dual effect: something had happened out there, and part of it has infected the Severin Valley; but she wasn't sure she wanted to get any closer to it. This was a truth that she'd just as soon avoid.
And yet.
"Yes," she said.
"Okay then. We'll do it. Fortunately the Hammersmith is prepped, groceries on board, water tanks full, and ready to leave for Taratuba."
She watched him breathe. "Solly," she said, "it'll be okay. We do this, they'll get upset for a while. But we'll bring back evidence of a contact. They'll meet us with a brass band."
Taking the Hammersmith should have been childishly easy. The Institute was meticulous about having its maintenance routines performed early. Solly, who'd been assisting with logistics for the mission, had already seen to stocking the vessel, so it should just have been a matter of walking on board, powering up, passing a satisfactory story to operations, and launching. But Worldwide Interiors had offered to redesign the living and working quarters on the Hammersmith, gratis, and several of their people were still on the ship when Kim and Solly arrived, twenty-two hours prior to scheduled departure for Taratuba.
Kim had never before been on the Hammersmith. After a quick inspection, Solly admitted that Worldwide had indeed improved the interior. "Although there was plenty of room for improvement," he added.