“A few years ago one of my uncrewed reconnaissance ships relayed some footage from a star system known only as G5/13. It was the furthest any vessel, from any line, had ventured, by some thousand or so light years. As you might know, the remit of the Expansion, which makes sense in the circumstances, is to explore space in an ever-widening cone along the spiral arm. This is merely in the interest of economic viability—it’s good business sense to open colony worlds closer to known, inhabited space.”
Mackendrick paused.
“I like to do things differently. Call me a maverick, but I don’t like running with the herd. There’s all the sprawling universe out there, and I’m damned if I’m going to restrict myself to crawling around in our back yard like some helpless ant. So I take risks. I send out ships where other companies are too scared to go. Sometimes I draw a big fat blank. Sometimes I come up trumps. Some of my most successful ventures have discovered planets rich in valuable ores and metals, plant life indispensable in the production of pharmaceuticals. Over the years I’ve always gone that little bit further.
“As I said, one of my ships started sending interesting footage back from the Rim. The ship received information from one of its probes, processed it and relayed the results back to our receiving station on Mars. This is what one probe discovered.”
He turned and tapped the touch-pad. The scene began rolling, speeded up faster than real-time. It showed the system from the point of view of the survey probe. Icebound outer planets flashed by. Then came a collection of smaller Earth-sized planets, orbiting their primary at a distance of some twenty million miles, according to Mackendrick. The angle of approach turned, veering off towards the sun and a gas giant that rapidly filled the screen. The banded stripes of blue and green gaseous light filled the room with an aqueous glow.
Mackendrick paused the film.
Bennett leaned forward. “A gas giant?” he said. Why would the survey probe find a gas giant of particular interest?
Mackendrick smiled. “I’ve named it Tenebrae,” he said, “but it’s not the planet I’m interested in. The planet in question is hidden by Tenebrae’s bulk, almost indiscernible in this shot.” He pointed to a small disc, a coin held at arm’s length, silhouetted against the broad, bright bulk of the gas giant. “I’ve called the world Penumbra, for obvious reasons. Watch.”
The film continued, speeding up as the probe fell towards the tiny planet. Soon the planet filled the screen: a cloud-whipped, pale mauve world which resolved itself, as the probe plummeted through a storm-racked atmosphere, into a landscape of mountains and plains and long blue lakes, the vegetation predominantly a covering of purple and violet grassland and forest.
“The following footage is edited from over four hours of reconnaissance, so it’s jerky and unconsecutive. The planet is prone to violent storms, which accounts for the poor quality of some of the shots. Also, the planet is predominantly in the shadow of Tenebrae, which radiates only about a third of the light of our own sun. Hence Penumbra. We should see the features of interest in a minute or two.”
Bennett sat forward, his curiosity piqued.
The rilled and rucked surface of the land, where foothills buttressed high mountains, passed beneath the eye of the probe. A valley flashed by, and Mackendrick paused the film. At first Bennett could see nothing, and then he made out two rows of orderly shapes in the valley bottom. Mackendrick magnified the image, and Bennett told himself that the shapes were clearly buildings.
“There,” Mackendrick said. “What do you think?”
“It could be some kind of village or settlement,” Bennett ventured. “It certainly looks too ordered to be an accidental collection of rocks or boulders.”
“Ten Lee?”
She inclined her head. “Probably,” she said. “They certainly look like constructed artefacts.”
“This is the only glimpse we get of such features,” Mackendrick said. “The signal was lost soon after, probably due to storm damage. When I saw this I realised that I had to investigate. Not just send some of my men along, but actually go myself.” He stared from Ten Lee to Bennett. “You do realise what this might mean, I hope?”
Bennett said, “Sentient extraterrestrial life. Only, what, the second or third discovered?”
“It depends whether you class the cetaceans of Sirius VI as intelligent,” Mackendrick replied. “I think the jury’s still out on that one. So, if they are what I think they are, the work of intelligent beings, and if they’re not extinct, then we might have ourselves some discovery here.”
“That’s a lot of ifs,” Ten Lee pointed out.
Mackendrick shrugged. “I’m willing to take the risk. Are you willing to join me?”
Bennett looked at Ten Lee. Her expression evinced no sign of having witnessed footage that might go down as significant in the history of stellar exploration.
At last she blinked and asked, “How far is Penumbra from Earth?”
“Almost two thousand light years.”
“So it will take us three, four months to reach?”
Mackendrick nodded. “About that. Of course, the ship is equipped with suspension units. By subjective elapsed time it’ll take us no more than a day or two.”
Ten Lee blinked up at Mackendrick. “May I ask another question?”
“Go ahead.”
“What I fail to understand,” she said, “is why you don’t send a fully equipped exploration team.”
Mackendrick nodded. “Valid point, but an exploration ship and team takes months, sometimes over a year, to equip and crew, especially for a haul as far as this.”
“No one’s likely to discover Penumbra in that time,” Bennett pointed out, reasonably.
“No, but then I haven’t got a year.” Mackendrick paused, then went on. “Five years ago when I fell ill my doctors gave me four, five years at best. I’m living on borrowed time. I’ll be lucky to last another year. I want to discover intelligent life on Penumbra more than anything else, even if it’s the last thing I do. I need to assemble a small crew on a ship I have ready and waiting, and get there as fast as possible. Does that answer your question?”
Ten Lee inclined her head minimally. “My Rimpoche forecast an outward journey. I will come with you.”
“Bennett?”
“Union rates?” Bennett asked, watching Mackendrick.
The tycoon smiled. “Damn union rates—a hundred thousand a month. How does that sound?”
Bennett stared at the stilled image of what might have been an alien settlement. “Count me in.”
Mackendrick switched off the com-screen and slid from the edge of the desk. “We’ll be lighting out on the twenty-sixth, three days from now. Until then we’ll meet every day and go through the usual systems checks and routine maintenance. Any questions?”
The twenty-sixth, Bennett thought. My father’s funeral. The townspeople of Mojave were going to think him crass and insensitive for not attending. Twenty years ago he had missed Ella’s funeral, too—and he tasted again the bitter tang of guilt at the thought. He tried to push the feeling to the back of his mind.
“Right,” Mackendrick was saying. “Let’s call it a day. I need my rest. I’ll see you here at ten tomorrow.”
Bennett stepped out into the bright sunlight with a sense of having entered a new chapter of his life. He thought of his father, of Julia… At last he was doing something to take himself away from a way of life he had wanted to escape for such a long time, but had been too craven to attempt. He never liked to look too far ahead, or to dream, but at least now he told himself that he just might be able to stop looking back and regretting.
He followed Ten Lee up the steps out of the pit. “Can I give you a lift anywhere, Ten?”
“Thank you, but I prefer to walk.”
He shrugged. “See you tomorrow, then.”
He gave a wave and was heading towards the parking lot when Ten Lee called to him.
“Joshua…”
He returned to where Ten Lee stood, watching him.
“Joshua, I’ve been thinking over what Mackendrick told us.”
“And?”
She blinked. “Why do you think he chose you and me for this mission? He has many good pilots and analysts he might have selected.”
