"Kim." It was the representative of a corporation that almost routinely underwrote Institute activities.
"How long will it be before we start to see the first effects?"
"That's a gray area, Ann. To be honest, we have no idea."
There were skeptics among the witnesses, some who believed that the Institute had overreached, that blowing up a star was simply beyond human capability. Several, she knew, would have been pleased to see the effort fail. Some did not like the Institute; some did not like its director. Others were simply uncomfortable at the prospect of human beings wielding that kind of power. Woodbridge was among these. Despite his remarks the previous evening, Kim knew that his real misgivings flowed from a basic distrust of human nature.
Minutes passed and nothing happened. She heard something fall and strike the invisible floor. They grew restless. In their experience, explosions were supposed to happen when they were triggered.
The first signs of stress showed up at zero plus eighteen minutes and change. Bright lines appeared around Alpha Maxim's belt. The chromosphere became visibly turbulent. Fountains of light erupted off the solar surface.
At zero plus twenty-two minutes the sun began to visibly expand. The process was slow: it might have been a balloon filling gradually with water. Enormous tidal forces started to overwhelm the spherical shape, flattening it, disrupting it, inducing monumental quakes.
At twenty-six minutes, eleven seconds, it exploded.
It was often possible to make a reasonable guess at a person's age from the physical characteristics his or her parents had selected. Different eras favored different skin tones, body types, hair colors. Concepts of beauty changed: women from one age tended to be well developed, their centers of gravity, as Solly Hobbs had once remarked, several centimeters in front of them; another era favored willowy, boyish women. Men's physiques ranged from heroic to slim. The current fashion was to consider bulk as somehow in poor taste. Males born during the next few years were going to resemble a generation of ballet dancers.
During the eighties, parents of both sexes had opted for classic features, the long jawline, eyes wide apart, straight nose. Teenage girls now looked by and large as if they'd stepped down from pedestals in the Acropolis. Kim had come from an earlier time when the pixie look was in vogue. She tried to compensate by maintaining a straightforward no-nonsense attitude, and by avoiding a programmed tendency to cant her head and smile sweetly. She also adapted her hair style to cover her somewhat elvin ears.
Solomon Hobbs was from an age that had favored biceps and shoulders, although he had allowed things to deteriorate somewhat. Solly was one of the Institute's four starship pilots. Kim had come to know him, however, not through an official connection, but because of their mutual interest in diving. Solly had been a member of the Sea Knights when Kim joined.
He had clear blue eyes, brown hair that was always in disarray, and a careless joviality that contrasted with a culture that thought of having fun as serious business, something one did to maintain a proper psychological balance.
After the lights came on and her guests had drifted away, Kim caught a cab which deposited her at the foot of Solly's pier. The dive on the Caledonian was to be their way of welcoming the new year. They'd been looking forward to it for weeks, but as they rounded Capelo Island, riding a cold wind, Kim began to describe her conversation with Sheyel. It wasn't a story she enjoyed telling, because it cast her former teacher as a crank. Yet she felt driven to talk about it. When she finished, he asked gently how much confidence she had in Tolliver.
"If you'd asked me two days ago-" she said.
"People lose touch as they get older." Solly squinted at the sun. The sloop rose and fell. "It happens."
They listened to the sea.
"I almost feel," said Kim, "as if I owe it to Emily to do something."
"Emily would tell you to forget it."
Kim laughed. That was funny. Emily was by no means a mark for every weird idea, but there had been something in her that wanted to get beyond the merely physical universe. Given a choice between daylight and darkness, she'd have opted for the night every time. "No," she said. "Emily would have wanted me to do something. Not just let it go."
"Like run up to Severin?"
She made a face. "I know. It's dumb even to think about it."
Solly shrugged. "Turn it into a vacation."
"I'm going to have to get back to him. To Sheyel. I don't like the way we left things."
"And you don't want to call him and tell him-"
"-Right. That I didn't bother to check out the woods."
They both laughed. The wind brought some spray inboard.
"Solly, I'll just say I didn't have time to go. That I'll get around to it when I can."
"Didn't you tell me this guy was a good teacher?"
"Yeah. He was good."
"And you're going to tell him you didn't have time to check something out for him? That you were too busy? Even though your sister was involved?"
"Solly, I don't really want to get caught up in this."
"Then don't." His sensors picked up the wreck, and he tacked a few points to port. "Moving up on it," he said.
"I mean, what happens to my reputation if it gets around I've gone ghost hunting?"
"Kim, why don't you take him at his word? We both know you're not going to sleep until you do. Look, it's only a few hours to Severin. Do it. What did he say was out there? A spook?"
"He didn't exactly say. 'Something's loose.'"
"Well, that could be pretty much anything."
"I think he was suggesting I'd know it when I saw it."
"Give it a chance. When nothing happens you can tell him you tried."
He dropped anchor and they changed into their wet suits. Kim folded her clothes carefully on the cabin bunk, then removed her silver earrings and laid them on top of her blouse. They were dolphins, given to her years ago by an otherwise forgettable amour. Then they sat down on the deck and resumed the conversation while they pulled on flippers and adjusted thermostats. Kim knew that the dive could not be made until the Tolliver issue was settled.
"You think I owe him that," she said.
"I think you owe it to yourself." He put his mask on, adjusted it, attached the converter, and took a deep breath. "I'll go with you, if you want."
"You really would?"
"I'm on an off-rotation for a couple of weeks. Plenty of time available if you'd like to do it."
Actually, she did. "Okay," she said. "I'm supposed to talk to the Germane Society the day after tomorrow.
Wednesday. And I've got a fund-raiser at Sky Harbor next Saturday."
"What's next Saturday?"
"The Star Queen christening. Maybe this weekend would be a good time."
"I don't think I want to ask you what the Germane Society is."
"They are relevant."
Solly grinned. "Is it a luncheon?"
"Yes."
"Why wait till the weekend? Eagle Point's a tourist spot. Cheaper to hit it now. Why don't we leave Wednesday afternoon? After the Relevant Society-?"
"-Germane-"
"Whatever."
"You sound terribly interested all of a sudden."
"A night in the Severin Valley with a beautiful woman? Why wouldn't I be interested?"
Her relationship with Solly was purely platonic. He'd been married when they first met, so they became friends before they could have become lovers. She'd liked him from the first. When Solly became eligible after he and his wife had failed to renew the marriage, she had considered signaling a romantic interest.
But he'd seemed reluctant. Best way he knew of, he said, to put a rift between them. She'd wondered whether there was a secret agenda somewhere, perhaps another woman. Or whether he meant what he said. Eventually the arrangement came to seem quite natural.
"I used the VR this morning," she said, "after I got off the circuit with Sheyel." She pulled the converter on over her shoulders and connected it. "I spent an hour looking at the Severin woods. They're just woods."
"It's not quite the same as being there," said Solly.
A wave passed under the boat and set it rocking. He dipped his mask in the water and put it on. "What about Kane? What happened to him?"
"He retired after the Hunter incident. Went into seclusion, I guess. I haven't done much research on him yet."
"Aha."
"What aha! What are you trying to say?"
"Research? So we are interested in this, are we?"
She rolled her eyes. "Just curiosity. He stayed in Severin Village until they evacuated. When they took down the dam. He moved to Terminal City after that, and then he headed out. Eventually landed on Earth. Canada. Lived on his retirement income, I guess."
"Is he still alive?"
"He died a few years ago trying to rescue some kids. In a forest fire." .
Solly pulled on his flippers. "And he always told the same story?"
"The conspiracy freaks were constantly after him. That appears to be the reason he left Greenway. But yes: He maintained that nothing unusual happened on the Hunter mission. They went out. They had an engine problem. They came back. Didn't know what happened to the women. Thought Tripley died in the blast."
"Mount Hope."
"Yes."
He lowered himself into the water, and his voice came in over her 'phones. "There is someone you might try talking to."
She watched him start down, and then followed him in. "Who's that?"
"Benton Tripley. Kile's son. His office is at Sky Harbor. When you go there next weekend, why don't you stop by and see him? He might be able to tell you something."
"I don't know." She slipped beneath the surface and filled her lungs several times to assure herself the converter was working properly. The air was sweet and cool. When she was satisfied, she started down.
"I think I'll settle for just looking at the woods and let it go at that."
Bars of sunlight faded quickly. A long rainbow-colored fish darted past. The oceans of Greenway had filled rapidly with lobsters and tarpon and whales and algae and seaweed.
She dropped through alternating warm and cold currents. Solly, now trailing behind her, switched on his wristlamp.
The Caledonian had been running among the islands on its way out to the banks with nineteen passengers and a three-person crew when a freak storm blew up. It became a legendary event because there'd been some famous people on board, and because there'd been only two survivors. One had been the unfortunate captain, later held negligent by a board of inquiry, charging failure to train his crew, poor ship handling, failure to develop emergency procedures. His situation was exacerbated by the suspicion that on the night of the accident he'd been frolicking in his quarters with a married passenger.
The ship's wheel was on display at the Marine Museum in Seabright. Other divers had gone over the wreck and taken whatever they could. Even Kim, who was usually inclined to respect such things, had removed a latch from a cabin door. The latch was now inside a block of crystal, which she kept hidden in her bedroom because visitors had made a point of showing their disapproval. Moves were currently afoot to declare the area a seapark, install monitoring equipment, and thereby protect it from future looters.
Kim, with the quiet hypocrisy that seems wired into the human soul, favored the measure. She soothed her conscience by promising herself she'd donate the latch to the museum. When the time came.
She left her own lamp off, savoring the dark and the solitude and the moving water. The bottom came into view. A school of fish, drawn by Solly's light, hurried past.
Ahead she could make out the wreck. It lay on its starboard side in the mud, half buried. Its rudder was gone, the spars were gone, planking was gone. Anything that could be carried off had been taken. Still it retained a kind of pathetic dignity.
The seabottoms of Greenway, unlike those of Earth, were not littered with the wrecks of thousands of years of seafaring and warmaking. It was in fact possible to count the number of sinkings along the eastern coast, during five centuries, on two hands. Only one, the Caledonian, had been a ship in the true sense of the word. The others had all been skimmers. The loss of a vessel was so rare an event that anything that went down became immediately a subject of folklore.
They were approaching bow-on. Kim switched on her light. "Spooky as ever," said Solly.
It wasn't the adjective Kim would have used. Forlorn, perhaps. Abandoned.
Yet maybe he was right.
They drifted down toward the foredeck.
The other survivor had testified that the ship's captain had done what he could.
The unfortunate skipper's name was Jon Halvert. He'd used a lantern to signal passengers to the lifeboats, and renderings of the incident invariably showed him holding the lantern high, helping men and women off the stricken ship. But it had all come too late and the Caledonian had turned over within seconds and plunged to the bottom. Historians believed that, the view of the board of inquiry notwithstanding, nothing the captain could have done would have made any significant difference. But there had been, as always, the need to establish responsibility. To lay blame.
Kim felt a special affection for him. Halvert seemed to represent the human condition: struggling under impossible circumstances, answerable for lack of perfection, holding the lantern nonetheless. But in the end it makes no difference.
Within a year of the event he died, and it became a popular legend that his spirit hovered in the vicinity of the wreck.
Divers only visit the Caledonian when the weather is good. But when the wind is stirring and rain is on the horizon, you can sail out to the spot and look down through the water, and you'll see the glow of the captain's lantern moving along the decks and ladders while he urges his passengers toward the boats.
Kim had read that in True Equatorian Specters. One version of the story had it that he was damned to continue the search until the last victim had been rescued.
Solly must have known what she was thinking. "There he is," he said, directing her attention toward a luminous jellyfish over the port quarter.
They swam down to the pilothouse and passed before the empty frames. There was nothing left inside.
Even the wheel mount was missing. But it was easy to conjure up the voyagers that night, lounging about the decks, looking forward to a week at sea, suddenly aware of a threatening sky.
They emerged on the starboard side and moved aft. Kim used her wristlamp to illuminate the interior.
The cabins were, of course, stark and empty.