Lifeline

Chapter 37

CLAVIUS BASE—Day 42

The six-pack bounced over the lunar surface at twenty-five miles an hour. Dust kicked up by the wheels floated back to the ground. Metal mesh covered the passenger area, and a reinforced roll bar outlined the enclosure, permitting safe driving at such breakneck speeds to and from Clavius Base. Otherwise, the hundred-fifty-mile journey out to the telescope site would drag out twice as long as the six hours.

Clancy watched as Shen, sitting next to him, checked the radar-guided autopilot. “Forty-five minutes to cross the plain,” she said. “Empty as a bureaucrat’s head. All this nothingness reminds me of traveling across Nevada. Ever been there?”

“I flew into Vegas once.”

“You haven’t died of boredom then. There’s a stretch of highway between Utah and California that goes straight for a hundred friggin’ miles—no towns, cows, or anything else.”

“No cows here, either.”

“Good point.”

They sat in silence for some moments. Clancy had a feeling Shen wanted to ask him something; she finally broke the silence. “Were you serious about needing a celestial mechanics expert?”

“Yeah.”

“And you can’t use my help?”

“Not for the question I have in mind. I’ll ask Rockland when we get back to base.”

After a moment of contemplation, Shen spoke up again. “Okay, what gives?”

Clancy chewed it over in his mind. The idea seemed so crazy. Maybe bouncing it off someone would give him a new angle to show that he was wrong.

If he was wrong.

Through the front shield he saw the flat span of crater, broken only by shuttle tracks from the once-a-day run to and from the Bigeye excavation site.

“I need a minimum-energy orbit from L-5 to the Moon.”

He couldn’t see much of Shen’s expression behind the coated visor, but her voice sounded perplexed. “What for?”

“An orbit from L-5 to here. You know, connect the dots.”

“Yeah, I heard that part the first time. But why? There’s no reason for a min orbit. You can’t get anything from them without a good enough guidance system, unless you’re thinking of having them do the Filipino wall-kelp bit. Or we could throw rocks up at them with the mass launcher, but that method is configured to use a relay station at L-2.”

“That’s why I need a celestial mechanics expert. I don’t even want to blab my idea until I know if it can work. But I think it will.”

“Boy, I thought I changed gears fast.” Shen turned her helmet to one side. “Go ahead and tell me. I’ll keep my trap shut.”

Clancy stared out at the lunar landscape. “Remember, I’ve still got to check this out, details and everything.” Taking a deep breath, he started to explain.

The six-pack bounced, causing Clancy to grab onto his seat as he spoke. Shen checked the instruments to confirm they were still on course. Clancy felt embarrassed. “I know it’s kind of crazy—”

“It’s great!”

“But let me check it out first, okay? I don’t want people to get their hopes up.” Nothing worse than false expectations, he thought. Especially when you’re desperate for them. It was hard enough getting the crew’s morale back up with the radio-telescope project. No telling what would happen if an even larger project fell through.

Shen’s voice came over the radio, sobered. “There’s something even bigger on the line than people’s hopes.”

“What’s that?”

“Your credibility.”

His footsteps echoed in the empty tunnels. Light fixtures splashed shadows at angles on the smooth-bore walls. Duncan McLaris found the walk enthralling, vigorous.

He knew that walking was supposed to be better exercise than running—he’d gain the same aerobic benefits but without destroying his knees, ankles, and feet in the meantime. Not that he should worry so much in the low lunar gravity anyway. Lately, he’d taken to walking the length of the colony—five miles in all, counting the new section of tunnels that contained the wall-kelp.

Most people stayed out of the kelp tunnels, but McLaris loved the feeling of being alone in the caves. It marked a turning point in his life—a return to grace and full restoration of his inner being. The twisted path he had taken to get here, the wrong turns, the dead ends—it was a lot like his life.

He felt the thickening beard on his chin. It was stiff and prickly, but it had passed the itching stage. He couldn’t imagine himself without it when he looked in the mirror now. He hadn’t shaved since the Miranda crash.

He hadn’t been able to build himself back up until now—until Chief Administrator Tomkins had showed faith in him. The crux of it all lay in the new tunnels, the paths that led in different directions away from darkness.

The sound of an electric cart came from behind him. McLaris stepped over to the edge of the tunnel and allowed the vehicle to whir past. Moments later he turned toward the administrative offices and the brighter lights. As he entered the office complex, two people rose from their chairs to greet him—Dr. Clancy and one of his crew.

“Cliff, I wouldn’t have thought you’d be back to Clavius so soon.” McLaris steered them to his office.

He offered them some tea brewed from reconstituted wall-kelp. There was enough glucose in the concoction to make it pleasant.

Shaking his head at the offer, Clancy got straight to the point. “Duncan, I think we might have hit on something big. It’s a crazy idea.”

“No, it isn’t,” the woman accompanying him said. Her name tag said Shen. “Crazy, I mean. It’s certainly big enough.”

McLaris settled back in his chair and took a sip of his own tea. “This is bigger than the radio telescope, and you think it’s possible? Let’s hear it.”

“Oh, it’s possible,” Shen said.

“I’ll need some computer time. But I think Rockland can verify it.”

McLaris smiled at their enthusiasm. “Do I have to guess what this is, or are you going to tell me?”

He had been the Production Division leader on Orbitech 1, in charge of enough incentives and bonuses to keep production moving at its peak efficiency. But Clancy’s crew presented a special problem to him. The construction engineers saw themselves as only guests on Clavius Base, pulled off their “real” project of building Orbitech 2. Part of McLaris’s effort had been to get Clancy’s crew motivated into working for the benefit of Clavius Base. That meant allowing them to “hobby shop”—work on pet projects and crazy schemes. So be it, McLaris thought. Maybe something would come of it after all.

Clancy moved to the front of his seat. “We’ve found a way to get to Orbitech 1, if the computer models pan out. And if our experiment is successful, we could have trips from L-5 to Clavius on a regular basis.”

McLaris’s mouth drew out in a tight smile. “We haven’t been in touch with Orbitech 1 since the RIF. Are you serious?”

“Of course he is!” Shen said. “Dr. Rockland can verify the physics within an hour or so. His celestial mechanics group was going ga-ga when we explained it to them. They were so excited, half the group rushed off before we were finished.”

McLaris continued to rock in his chair, increasing the frequency. Outwardly, he wore a smile.

Reestablish contact with Orbitech 1.

Damn you, McLaris! Brahms had said as they rocketed away in the stolen shuttle. Brahms was still up there.

Inwardly, McLaris’s heart felt chilled.