“You sound pretty sure about that.”
“Pretty sure? Listen, kid, I’m one hundred per cent sure. I
“So the other day… ?”
Mackendrick was nodding. “You almost total the tug, and a starship into the bargain, and you swear it’s an operating system, but does Control listen? You bet your ass they don’t. It’s Bennett and Theneka with red faces before the disciplinary committee, and believe me, if you stayed with Redwood you’d be kicked so far away from the Vipers your butts would still be smarting come Christmas.” He waved a hand in a disgusted gesture. “Screw Redwood. My people’ve been telling me for years that you’re a damned good pilot, so when the opportunity arose, I took it.”
They paused beside the twin exhaust vents of the Schulmann-Dearing boosters. Mackendrick leaned against the rail, staring down into the pit.
“You mentioned a project?” Bennett said.
Mackendrick nodded, glanced at him. “How would you like to pilot the Cobra here, interstellar?”
Bennett wondered if his sudden sweat was wholly a result of the sun. “Exactly where to?”
Mackendrick looked at him. “We’re heading so far across sidereal space, Bennett, that it’s totally off the usual exploration vector.”
Bennett had a dozen questions he wanted to ask, all at once.
“I’m interested,” he said. “But why me? You’ve got a hundred pilots just as qualified—”
“That’s debatable, Bennett. I wanted someone who’s good in the gravity well, in adverse weather conditions. Your handling of the
“When’s the planned flight date?”
“Later,” Mackendrick said. “I’ll answer that and any other questions when the systems analyst arrives. I’ll go through the project then and we can talk it over.” He glanced at this watch. “She’s due pretty soon. In the meantime, how about coffee?”
He led the way back down the gantry and across the pit to the line of offices. Bennett followed Mackendrick into a plush chamber fitted with mock-wood panelling and hung with moving 3D images of planetary panoramas. The tycoon gestured to a suite of sofas and prepared the coffee. Bennett sat down, noticing as he did so a pillow and blanket stuffed into a storage unit against the far wall. So Mackendrick, like the workaholic of repute, slept
On a desk in the corner of the room was a pix showing a younger and healthier Mackendrick with a striking Indian woman in a sari. Mackendrick was cradling a baby in his arms, something proud and proprietorial in his pose.
Mackendrick passed Bennett a cup of coffee and lowered himself into an armchair.
“I heard about your father,” Mackendrick said. “I’m sorry.”
“News travels fast.”
“I have my contacts.” He paused. “I take it you weren’t close?”
Bennett smiled. “That’s something of an understatement. We didn’t see eye to eye, I suppose you might say. On anything.”
“Join the club,” Mackendrick said, indicating a pix on the wall above the desk. It showed a suited, middle- aged man clutching the hand of a small, stocky boy on the steps of some imposing building. “My father, Alistair Mackendrick, founder of the foundation. Now he, Bennett, was a bastard of the first water. He wanted me to join him in academe, but I wasn’t having it. You don’t know how satisfying it was to open the foundation up to the actual exploration of space, not just the theory.”
Bennett sipped his coffee, wondering if Mackendrick’s little speech was another trick to win him over. His gaze wandered back to the pix of Mackendrick and the Indian woman. The tycoon noticed.
“Naheed, my wife,” he said. “We met while I was working at the Calcutta shipyards. She was the daughter of a well-to-do merchant. I never believed until then that I could fall in love. Didn’t believe I had it in me, and was determined to remain single. And the thought of having children…” He paused and smiled sadly. “It’s amazing how your views change when you meet someone you feel you want to be with for the rest of your life.”
Bennett recalled no mention of his wife in the biographical essay he’d read that morning.
Mackendrick looked from the pix to Bennett. “Naheed died almost thirteen years ago,” he said quietly. “Leukaemia. There was nothing we could do. For all my wealth…”
Bennett looked away from the tycoon. To change the subject he indicated the pix and said, “You had a son?”
“A daughter. Sita.” Mackendrick shook his head. “Sadly, I no longer see her.”
Perhaps, Bennett thought, this explained Mackendrick’s single-minded dedication to his work.
Mackendrick looked up, through the window overlooking the pit. “And at last the tardy analyst decides to honour us,” he said.
A small figure, reduced by the distance, was making its way down the zig-zag steps. Minutes later Mackendrick’s secretary knocked and opened the door. A tiny woman in a bright red flight-suit, barefoot as on the first occasion Bennett had made her acquaintance, stepped into the room.
“Ten Lee…” Bennett said.
“Joshua.” The Viet-Zambian inclined her head but did not smile. “Mack told me last night that I might be working with you again, if you decided to join us. I resigned from Redwood immediately.”
Bennett nodded. “I just might be joining you.”
He was surprised again by her diminutive stature. As she stood before him, her head barely reached his sternum. A small rucksack was strapped to her shoulders, its weight giving her back the pert curve of a reed.
“We need a first-rate analyst along,” Mackendrick was saying. “My people recommended Ten Lee. How about coffee, Ten? A refill, Josh?”
While Mackendrick busied himself at the percolator, Bennett said to Ten Lee, “It’s good to see you again.”
Ten Lee blinked up at him, her expression blank. It seemed to take her a while to consider her reply. “Yesterday I told you that my Rimpoche stated that my destiny was ever outward, Josh. It seems that he was right. When Mack contacted me last night, I had no hesitation in accepting his offer.”
“Has he told you where exactly we’re going?”
“Only that it is further than any exploration vessel has gone before. It will give me plenty of time to meditate.”
Bennett smiled. “I think the ship’ll be fitted with suspension units, Ten.”
“Since when was their use declared obligatory, Joshua?”
“Touche. But rather you than me.”
She gazed up at him, her thoughts unreadable behind the mask of her expressionless features. “Perhaps a period of contemplation would do you good,” she said.
“Well, maybe…” Bennett shrugged. “What’s in the rucksack?”
“My possessions. A change of flight-suit. Toiletries. And the
“You travel light,” Bennett said.
She inclined her head. “We all begin the journey light, Josh, but some of us burden ourselves on the way.”
Bennett gave a slow nod of feigned understanding. “Right, Ten.”
Mackendrick passed them cups of coffee. “Now that you’re here, Ten, we can get down to business. As I’ve already mentioned, we’re lighting into uncharted space. The fourth quadrant, and, to be even more precise, the Rim. If you’d care to sit down I’ll show you some video and computer imagery.”
While Mackendrick tapped the touch-pad of the com-screen on his desk. Bennett eased himself on to the sofa. Ten Lee took off her rucksack and sat cross-legged on the floor. Mackendrick sat side-saddle on the edge of his desk, as his computer-enhanced alter ego had done last night. On the screen beside him was the still image of an unfamiliar solar system.
