“Thank you, Ordway. That's good to hear.”
“Something else: Our legal people are working to overturn this new prohibition against Villanueva flights. They're trying to prosecute anyone who participates in the rescue. But we're going to win. There's no way we can lose. And when we do, we'll be launching several missions of our own. To be honest, we've always known about Villanueva, but it was just too big for us to tackle. Thanks to you, though-”
Alex held up a palm. “Sending people out there might not be a good idea. The place is extremely dangerous.”
“We'll be careful.”
When he'd gone, Alex collapsed into a chair. “Chase,” he said, “what have I done?”
“I don't know,” I said. “You almost sound as if you've switched sides.”
Shara's analysts, who'd been going through Robin's notebook, came up with news: They'd uncovered what came to be known as the Robin Equation, which laid out the characteristics that rendered a given vehicle vulnerable to the forces at work in a black-hole track. It was, as Shara had thought, a combination of vehicle design; of the mass imposed by the ship, its cargo, and passengers; of the power output of the drive unit; of the degree of damage done to the basic time/space structure by the passage of the superdense object, which did not necessarily have to be a black hole; of the elapsed time since passage; of calibration rates; and a half dozen other factors. “We're now in a position,” she said, “to determine where our vulnerabilities are.”
Shara and her people relayed the data to everyone who had an interest, manufacturers, transport lines, the Fleet, StarCorps, and everybody else they could think of. They made clear that experiments had not yet been concluded, and that the information was still tentative. But the warning was there.
THIRTY-FIVE
Intelligence and compassion are the heart of what it means to be human. Help others where you can. That is clear enough. But a Creator may well want us to open our eyes, as well. If there is a judgment, God may not be particularly interested in how many hymns we sang or what prayers we memorized. I suspect He may instead look at us and say, “I gave you a brain, and you never used it. I gave you the stars, and you never looked.”
“I don't care,” Alex said. “Make it explicit in the agreement. When we encounter the Antares, nobody is to attempt to board. They are to notify us.”
“Alex, you don't know these people. Impose that restriction on them, and they may pull out. Or if they don't pull out, they'll simply ignore it.”
“I don't want any more deaths on my conscience.”
“You're being unreasonable.”
“Put it in the agreement, Chase.”
We were out on the deck. Rain was falling steadily, and normally Alex enjoyed storms. But on that day it didn't seem to help his mood at all. “Look,” I said, “if one of these guys does actually find the Antares, and he tells us about it, it's not even likely that we're going to have time to get to it. So we can either let one of our pilots risk himself, or we can shoot down any chance of making this operation count for something. These people didn't volunteer so they could just go out there and hang around.”
“Chase, I hate this.”
“So do I. But you're being unreasonable.”
I listened to him breathing. “All right,” he said finally. “Let it go. But make sure they understand the risk if they try to board.”
“Okay.”
“I've arranged to lease some pressure suits. I think we cleared out Jupiter Supplies and the Wilson Off-world Equipment Company.”
“How many did you get?”
“About forty.”
“Where are we going to put them?”
“I'll leave that to you, Chase. Put two or three on each ship.”
“I hope we don't have to get forty people off.”
“So do I. The real question will be whether we can get to the ship quickly enough to evacuate anyone.”
“Alex.” Jacob's voice. “Senator Delmar is trying to reach you.”
“Calling to lecture.” I could see what he was thinking. Tell her I'm out. But instead he took a deep breath. “Put her through, Jacob.”
We didn't have a visual capability on the deck, so the transmission was strictly vocal. “Alex.” Delmar sounded distressed. “How have you been?”
“I'm okay, Senator. What can I do for you?”
“I was just calling to be sure you were okay. I know you've been under pressure lately.”
“I'm fine.”
“Also, I guess I wanted to pass on some news. We just got word that another group of people have been killed on Villanueva. Five or six of them. Details are still sketchy. But I suspect you'll be hearing from the media as soon as it becomes public.”
Alex's eyes closed for a moment. “You have any names?”
“I'm sorry to say the guy running the show was a friend of yours.”
Alex paled. My God. Drummond-
The rain fell steadily into the trees.
“A priest. Harley Evans.”
“Harley,” said Alex. “What the hell was he doing out there?”
“I don't have the details. But some of the people from his church apparently got together and”-she hesitated-”decided it was their Christian duty, I guess.”
I couldn't believe it. “He didn't even like the idea,” I said.
Alex just stared straight ahead. “I thought StarCorps was going to prevent anybody else from landing.”
“They don't have enough ships out there, Alex. They have commitments elsewhere, too. It's not easy to keep people away when they're determined. I wish it were otherwise.”
“What happened?”
“The only thing we know at the moment is that they got caught on the ground somehow. Chased through the streets by bots and cars.”
“My God.”
“Nobody could get to them in time. The media will have it later today.”
Alex stood up, went inside, and switched to visual. The senator looked weary. “Alex,” she said, “I know we don't agree on our approach to this. But I'm sorry. Sorry about everything.”
“We both are.”
“May I offer a word of advice? Do the interviews. Explain how you meant professionals only, and how everybody else should stay away.”
When she'd broken off, he sat slumped in his chair.
“Professionals only?” I said.
“She knows, something like this, there are no professionals.”
It didn't take long. Delmar was barely off the circuit before everybody was jumping in with “breaking news.” Five or six dead. Rumor that a priest was among them. Identities being withheld until notification of next of kin. Killer AIs. Alex Benedict.
Nobody failed to mention his name.
And the calls began coming in. Straight Talk, Kile Ritter, The Round Table, Jennifer in the Morning, Mia
