'Another Monument?' Hutch didn't believe that for a minute. She opened a channel to the bridge. The captain was not there, but she spoke to the command duty officer. 'I wonder if you would do me a favor?'
'What do you need?' The CDO was a middle-aged, graying, no-nonsense woman.
'The space station,' she said. 'How stable is its orbit? How long would you say it's been here?'
The CDO looked uncomfortable. 'We're navigators, Ms. Hutchins. You'd need a physicist to come up with that. I'd like to help, but we just don't have the expertise.'
'Do what you can,' said Hutch, using a tone that implied full confidence.
The CDO allowed herself a pleased smile. 'We'll try.'
John F. Morris, was a man with narrow shoulders, narrow tastes, and narrow vision. He had achieved the highest position to which he could aspire, and he had done it by unrelenting loyalty to the company, taking care not to offend the wrong people, and good old nose-to-the-grindstone attention to detail. He was not a man to be overwhelmed by other people's histrionics, but he could recognize a career danger. His great strength, and his great weakness, was an unblinking, clear view of the downside. He knew that Melanie Truscott was in difficulty, and that she was taking liberties with his ship. The fact that she had every right to do so (within certain specifically- provided-for parameters), that she had full authority to direct his movements, might not help him if someone decided to take offense at the misuse of company property. Or if something went seriously awry. It was for these reasons that the captain had remained aloof and cool during the approach to Beta Pac III. He was not prepared to defy Melanie Truscott, because he knew very well that one did not advance one's career by offending the powerful, even when the powerful were in trouble. People at her level had a way of resurrecting themselves. But he was not a good enough actor to conceal his displeasure.
He felt compromised, and he resented it. His resentment extended in no small way to the Academy refugees whom he'd pulled from their wreck. Especially Carson, who pretended to know everything.
Satisfied that the shuttle would be ready for its rendezvous with the station when promised, the captain went looking for Truscott. He found her in the forward lounge, deep in conversation with Sill. She looked up when he entered, noted his grave appearance, and smiled in her most reassuring manner.
'I'm not comfortable about going any further with this,' he said.
'Oh?' Truscott's gaze sharpened. 'What is it that bothers you?'
'Several things.' His voice shook. He did not like opposing a superior, even to the extent of adhering to his duty to provide sound advice. But now that he was fairly begun, he would maintain a steady course. 'First, the transfer of personnel to a derelict of unknown nature is a violation of the regs. However you try to cut it. And if there's any kind of emergency, we aren't well-equipped to deal with it. Our medical department is limited. We have only one shuttle. If you get into trouble over there, we cannot come to your rescue. At least, not very easily. And certainly not quickly. Furthermore, 1 have collaborated in this fiction about a maintenance stand-down, but that won't protect us if we have to answer difficult questions. Should a problem arise, should we sustain any sort of major equipment loss, damage to the ship, or, God forbid, lose someone, I think Corporate would be extremely short with both of us.' He paused to let the seriousness of their situation sink in. 'There are other potential problems. For example, the artifact is probably priceless. If we damage it, might we not be held liable?'
Truscott nodded, in that infuriating manner that suggested she had already considered all these things. 'And what do you suggest we do, John?'
'That's easy. Set course for home. Report the finding, and let people who are trained in these things, and properly equipped, deal with them.' He straightened his shoulders.
'You're probably right,' she said. 'But I can no more turn away from this than you could walk out the airlock. John, don't you have any curiosity? Don't you want to know what's over there? Or what's down on the surface?'
'Not when it interferes with my duty.'
'I understand. We'll have to disagree on this one. Please continue the preparations.'
He bowed. 'As you wish. The shuttle is ready.'
'Thank you. And, John?'
He turned, standing in the doorway.
'Log your objections.'
'Thank you, Director.'
He walked back through the quiet passageways of the Catherine Perth, toward the bridge, and he knew that if things went wrong, she would do what she could for him. But it wouldn't help much: they'd all go down together.
The comm watch officer chimed Carson. 'Response to your question, sir.'
Frank was walking with Maggie toward the shuttle bay. 'Go ahead.'
'Telescopic examination of the anomaly on Three-B does reveal charring. Over perhaps thirty percent of the structure.'
Carson watched his team file into the shuttle ready room. George looked happy and anxious; Maggie was intense and full of electricity. He had grown close to Maggie during this mission, had found her far more human than he would have believed. And less detached than she would have wanted to reveal. Today, standing on the edge of history, she anticipated photos. And had dressed the part.
Janet was playing her usual casual role, unflappable, talking quietly to Hutch. But she was a little more erect than usual, her eyes brighter, and he sensed her eagerness to get about the day's business.
And Hutch herself. He'd learned to read her moods. Today she was distracted, preoccupied, thoughtful. He understood that their objective was more personal for her than for the professionals. The archeologists had uncovered their grail, and maybe far more. But Priscilla Hutchins had never learned to let go; she was carrying a lot of baggage with her to the derelict.
'Safety first when we get over there,' he said. 'Take care of yourself, and don't break anything.' They would split into three groups: Janet and himself, George and Maggie, and Hutch with Truscott and Sill. 'I'd have preferred that we didn't have to carry Dr. Truscott and her pet bulldog along, but since they own the shuttle, there's not much we can do. Hutch, I want you to keep an eye on them. Don't let them get hurt; don't let them wander off.
'We'll keep in contact, check in with each other every ten minutes. Try not to get involved with the details of what we see. We need a map and a general survey. Once we've got those, we'll set up a plan of action and try to go about this systematically.'
'How long will we be staying?' asked Maggie.
'Four hours. That allows us a reasonable safety margin. We'll carry a couple of extra Flickinger harnesses and air tanks on the shuttle. Just in case. Hutch?'
'Will there be someone with the shuttle throughout the operation?'
'Jake is our pilot. He'll stand by. We're going in through an open hatch. It's one of several. Apparently, when the owners left, they never bothered to close the doors.'
Sill came in. 'We'll be ready in a few minutes,' he said.
George was studying a lightpad. 'The station has at least six airlocks,' he said, 'or apertures that look like airlocks. The outer hatches on three of them are open.' He looked at the faces around him, inviting an explanation.
'They left in a hurry,' suggested Janet.
'Don't know,' said Sill.
'1 think,' said Maggie, 'we're going to discover the artifact has been stripped of everything valuable. The last visitors were looters. Which would explain why they didn't bother to close the doors.' She put a finger to her lips. 'I wonder why there are no other stations? The later ones? There should be more advanced orbiters.'
'Who can say?' said Carson. 'Maybe they all went down.' He looked at each of them. 'Okay, what else? What have we missed?'
Hutch looked up. 'Pulsers?'
'We'll have one with each group,' said Carson.
'Why do we need them?' Maggie asked.
'To get through doors that won't open.'
But Maggie looked uncomfortable. 'What's wrong?' asked Janet. 'That's not unreasonable.'
'Don't know,' she said. 'The place is a little spooky, and I'm not sure it's a good idea to be walking around
