there.
“Ops,” said Sandy. “Did you see that?”
I'd watched a good many ships make their jumps, on-screen and riding beside them. When they did, they vanished. Blinked off. One moment they were there, and the next they were gone. This wasn't like that at all.
“Spooky,” Tereza said, keeping her voice low. “What the hell was it?”
I called Alex. He was in his quarters, sitting in an armchair, framed by a window. It was still darker in Andiquar. A notebook lay open on his lap. “How's it going, Chase?” he asked. “You figure out what happened to him?”
“No. I don't have a clue. I do have one interesting piece of information, though.”
“What's that?”
“Robin bought several yachts, according to the local priest. I checked the archives. It's true. He bought four over an eight-year period.”
“Four yachts? What was he doing with them?”
“Apparently, he was using them in an experiment. I did some research and found something on it. Not much. And it's really not clear. Something about cycling.''
“What's that?”
“It's connected with providing reserves for an electronic boost when you make a jump.”
Alex's brow crinkled. “Make sense to you?”
“I know it happens. Beyond that-”
“I take it the yachts were not new?”
“No. They were all pretty old. Which, by the way, isn't consistent with cycling experiments, so I don't know what was actually going on.”
“Okay.” He lifted a glass of something from a side table and drained it. “When did all this happen?”
“Between 1385 and 1393.”
“Did you get the names of the yachts?”
“One of them was the Starhawk.”
“All right.”
“Another was the Firehawk.”
“The Firehawk? This guy had a thing with hawks?”
“Sorry. The Firebird.”
“And the others?”
“Striker and Elizabeth.”
“How long did they usually have these yachts before they lost them?”
“I don't know, Alex. I couldn't find any detailed information. Why are we so interested?”
“I'm not sure. I don't know. But the yachts went away. Then Robin went away.”
“All right. Ramsay will be calling in a little bit. If you have no problem with it, I'm going to tell him about them. About the yachts.”
“Yes. By all means. It sounds mysterious, and that's exactly what we're looking for. When you tell him, sound surprised, okay?” Lightning lit up the window, but I couldn't be sure whether it was his or mine. Until the thunder rumbled overhead. “Chase,” he said, “you're a genius.”
“How's everything going at your end?”
“We're still rolling. The artifacts may have peaked. But maybe not. I've arranged some informal presentations for Plunkett.”
“Plunkett?” I knew the name from somewhere.
“Charlie Plunkett. The guy from the Robin Society. Brane theory.”
“Oh. As in colliding universes?”
“Yes.”
Libraries, museums, and other social groups were always looking for guest speakers. “Alex,” I said, “the guy might be a bit far out.”
“It doesn't matter. He's good behind a lectern. And nothing he can say will hurt the artifacts. That's all that matters.” He was about to sign off, but apparently remembered something. “Hang on a second, Chase.” He took another sip of his drink. Then: “One other thing-”
“Yes?”
“These sightings have been going on for a long time. I don't just mean lights in the sky, but close-ups of ships that don't seem to belong. And there've been strange voices. The sightings are infrequent, maybe two or three times a century, but they keep happening.”
“How far back?”
“Into ancient history.”
“Okay.” I waited, thinking more was coming.
But he subsided. Then: “We're onto something very big, Chase.”
“Ships from another reality?”
“Maybe.”
“Now, that would really be a jolt. Oh, one other thing I forgot to mention. It's probably of no significance. Robin was out somewhere in the Breakwater two or three weeks before that last flight.”
“Do you know where?”
“No. My source didn't know. Also, you wanted to know how long he'd been away on that last flight. It was three days, possibly four.”
Jack McDevitt
Firebird
NINE
It is an unfortunate aspect of human nature that we appreciate what matters only when we don't have it anymore. What would any of us not give to be able to return, if only for an hour, to those high-school years and see again those who at that time were only the kids we hung out with, who have since gone away, and whom we now recognize as irreplaceable parts of ourselves.
— Kirby Edward, Traveling in Time. 1407
Cermak Transport became Reliable, Inc., which had an office in the center of Kolandra, manned by Mitsui Shimazaki. Shimazaki had been Eliot Cermak's partner, and was now semiretired. When I stopped by the office, he was arranging flight information for a young couple planning a honeymoon on another world. They weren't sure where they wanted to go. “Somewhere exciting,” the bride-to-be said, while the AI ran visuals of towering mountains and majestic cities. Both were excited and, if I read them correctly, neither had ever been off-world before.
Shimazaki asked whether he could help me, and I told him to take his time with his clients. I was in no hurry. So he did, and eventually they settled on a sightseeing tour of the solar system. “Our twelve-day special,” he said. “We'll have two other newly married couples with you, if that's okay.”
“By all means,” the bride said.
“As long as we have a little privacy,” added the groom, with a smirk.
And I thought, There's a marriage that will never see renewal.
When they'd finished, Shimazaki came back, apologized, and asked what I needed.
“My name's Chase Kolpath,” I said. “I'm doing some research on Eliot Cermak. I wonder if you could answer a few questions?”
“Of course. I was always sorry about Eliot. Gone too soon.”
“Did you by any chance get to see him the night of the earthquake?”
“No,” he said. “That night was pure hell. I'll tell you the truth, when that first shock hit, I got my wife and kids into our skimmer, and we cleared out. I've always felt guilty that I wasn't here to help, but-”
“I understand, Mr. Shimazaki. You couldn't be everywhere.” He nodded. Smiled. And his eyes momentarily
