not the whole deal, is it?” She winked at them. “What about the trouble with the rings?”
O’Herlihy frowned. “What trouble? There is no trouble with the rings.”
“That’s not what I’ve heard,” she said. “Word is, Saturn’s famous rings are coming apart—‘destabilizing’ is the term my sources use — which could mess up the entire solar system.”
“Nonsense,” O’Herlihy said. “That’s just a crackpot theory perpetuated by fringe elements. Contrary to what you might have read on the Internet, Saturn’s rings are always full of irregularities and hardly uniform throughout. There are clumps and corrugations, froths and churns, some nearly three kilometers high.” His voice took on a pedantic tone, as though he were addressing a classroom. “Think of them as raging rivers, complete with waves and rapids.”
“Uh-huh,” Zoe said, unconvinced. “But those rivers are getting wilder, aren’t they, Professor?”
O’Herlihy sighed wearily. “Yes, conventional astronomers have recently detected some intriguing ‘wobbles’ in the rings, possibly caused by the approach of the comet, but that’s just one more reason to visit Saturn and its moons at this particular juncture. There’s no cause for alarm, despite the various dooms-day scenarios on the Web.”
“Really?” Zoe asked. “What if the rings break apart and the pieces come flying at the Earth?”
“A ridiculous fantasy,” O’Herlihy insisted. “Even if the rings did disintegrate, Earth is much too far away to be significantly affected. Chances are, the loose debris would just add to the asteroid belt, if it didn’t spiral into Saturn and burn up in its atmosphere.”
Zoe almost looked disappointed. “Oh.”
“Space is fascinating enough,” Shaun said, “without having to sensationalize things. Trust me, we have plenty of good reasons to check out Saturn right here and now, but the end of the world isn’t one of them.”
Zoe shrugged. “Well, a girl can always dream, you know.”
“Jesus!” Fontana said. “Why are we even wasting time talking to this flake?” She turned toward Shaun and O’Herlihy. “Now what are we going to do? Turn back?”
“Perhaps we should,” O’Herlihy said. “Despite Ms. Querez’s secret stores, her presence here completely upends our mission plans. We have no contingency plans for this.” He shook his head dolefully. “Missions have been aborted for less.”
He had a point, Shaun knew, but he hated the idea of scrubbing the mission now that they were finally under way. “I don’t know, Doc. A lot is depending on this mission. You know as well as I do that the space program is on life support as is, especially given the shaky state of the world economy. Plenty of people want to shut us down altogether.”
He wasn’t exaggerating. Back in the United States, thousands of homeless people were crammed into so- called sanctuary districts, with little hope of finding new jobs and lives anytime soon. The average citizen was more concerned with the economy, terrorism, global warming, wars, and the latest celebrity scandal than with humanity’s future in space. Shaun’s recent publicity tour had driven that home. Many today saw space exploration as a costly luxury that the world could no longer afford — or, worse yet, as the outmoded dream of an earlier generation. There weren’t even any space shows on TV anymore. Hope was out of fashion.
“We need a successful mission, to get people excited about space and the future again. And NASA in particular could use a public-relations victory right now. The Eastern Coalition has already beaten us back to the moon. We can’t come in second on Saturn, too.” The more he thought about it, the more he realized what was at stake. “This is our last chance. We turn back now, that’s it, not just for the Saturn mission but for the entire space program. We’ll be grounded for good.”
O’Herlihy scratched his beard. “It would be a shame to miss out on that comet,” he admitted, “not to mention our chance to examine those intriguing ripples in the rings. As a scientist, I’ll never have an opportunity like this again.”
Shaun knew how much that meant to O’Herlihy. The doctor was a devout family man, very attached to his wife and daughter, yet he had agreed to leave them for 190 days and put hundreds of millions of kilometers between himself and his family, for the chance to take part in this mission. That was dedication.
“I won’t be any trouble,” Zoe insisted. “I’ll just be along as an observer… to document your historic mission. And I’ll help promote your success once we get back to Earth. Just think of me as an embedded journalist, like during a war.”
“Shut up,” Fontana said. “Nobody invited you along. You’re an intruder, not a guest.” She kept a wary eye on Zoe as she conferred with her colleagues. “And how do we know she is who she says she is, anyway? For all we know, she’s a saboteur or a terrorist… like those HEL freaks back home.”
The Human Extinction League was a radical environmental group that regarded humanity as a blight upon the planet and actually advocated its voluntary extinction, sooner rather than later. They had vowed to stop NASA from spreading the “plague” of humanity to other worlds and had even launched raids and attempted bombings against the space program. Just last week, the Johnson Space Center in Houston had received a threatening letter containing a suspicious white powder. Operations had been shut down for hours before Homeland Security determined that the powder was just an artificial sweetener.
“What if she’s some sort of suicide bomber,” Fontana asked, “out to sabotage the mission?”
“Then why haven’t I done it already?” Zoe stretched out her arms. “Does it look like I’m wearing a suicide vest?” She scoffed at the notion. “Trust me, I’ve interviewed some HEL types, and they’re a little extreme for my tastes.”
“See?” Fontana said. “She admits she knows them.”
“So? I’ve interviewed movie stars, too. That doesn’t make me a Scientologist.” She appealed to Shaun. “Look, Skipper, check out my credentials if you don’t believe me.”
“Oh, I will,” Shaun promised. He wasn’t looking forward to having that conversation with Houston. “And we’re going to conduct a stem-to-stern search of this ship just to make sure there aren’t any more hidden surprises.”
“But that still leaves the burning question of what we’re going to do with her,” O’Herlihy said, “no matter which way we’re going.”
Fontana shrugged. “We could flush her out the airlock.”
Shaun assumed she was joking… maybe. “We’ll have to rig up a brig of some sort, perhaps in the airlock outside the cargo bay.” Unfortunately, the
“Works for me,” Zoe said. “At least until I can get you to trust me.”
“Don’t hold your breath for that,” Fontana said. “What’s the ruling, Commander? Are we seriously thinking about staying on course for Saturn?”
“That’s for Mission Control to decide,” he reminded them, “but if we present a unified front, our decision is likely to carry a lot of weight.” He made up his mind. “I say we keep on going. We turn back now, we’re never going to get another chance.”
“All right, Shaun,” O’Herlihy said. “You’ve convinced me. I’m game if you are.”
“Thanks, Marcus.” Shaun looked at Fontana. “What about you?”
As he knew from experience, his copilot wasn’t fond of surprises, especially where a mission was concerned. She was all about advance planning and preparation. An X factor like their stowaway was bound to get under her skin.
She scowled, then let out an exasperated sigh. “What the hell. Far be it from me to be the spoilsport who kept mankind from going to Saturn. If you two are willing to put up with this juvenile idiot for more than two billion kilometers, you can count on me to back you up with Mission Control. But don’t think I’m happy about it.” She glared at Zoe. “If it was up to me, you’d be in a maximum-security prison cell as fast as we could turn this boat around.”
“You may get your wish eventually,” Zoe conceded. “If it’s any consolation.”
“Not really.” Fontana gave Shaun a rueful look. “I really hope you know what you’re doing, Shaun.”
Four
