wasn’t so conceited as to believe that Father would risk the development of the gravity laser simply to teach Lem one of his “life lessons.” This was purely Lem’s problem. And he would deal with it.
“Dr. Dublin,” Lem said into his microphone, “when you said that the test would begin in a few moments, I assumed that you defined a few moments the same way I do, mere minutes at most. But by my clock, nearly fifteen additional minutes have passed. I recognize that the glaser is of utmost importance to this ship, but there are other matters on this vessel that require a captain’s attention. As much as I enjoy staring out into space and pondering the meaning of the universe, frankly I don’t have the time. Are we conducting a test or aren’t we?”
Dr. Dublin’s voice was small and hesitant. “Well, sir, it appears that we may have run into a snag.”
Lem closed his eyes. “And when were you going to inform me of this snag?”
“We were hoping that we could fix it quickly, sir. But that doesn’t seem likely now. We were about to call you.”
I’m sure you were, thought Lem. He pushed his cup into the receptacle. “I’m coming down.”
Lem made his way to the push tube, one of the many narrow shafts that ran through the ship. He pulled himself inside and folded his arms across his chest. The walls, like the floor and sidewalls of the ship, produced an undulating magnetic field. The magnets either attracted or repelled the vambraces Lem wore on his forearms and the greaves he wore on his shins. Lem said, “Fourteen.” At once he was sucked downward. When he arrived, the lab was in such a state that no one noticed him float into the room. Most of the engineers were hovering weightless around the wall-screen that stretched the length of the room. It held countless windows of data, diagrams, blueprints, messages, scribbles, and equations. It hurt Lem’s eyes just to look at it. The engineers were politely arguing over some technical matter Lem didn’t understand. Dr. Dublin and a few assistants were standing on the wall to Lem’s left, looking down on a hologram of the gravity laser that was about one-fifth the size of the real thing. It annoyed Lem when people in a room didn’t maintain the same vertical orientation. Being perpendicular to everyone else was indecorous.
“I do love watching engineers at play,” said Lem, just loud enough for everyone to hear.
The room fell silent. The engineers turned to him. Without looking, Lem tapped his wrist pad, and the eye assault that was the wall-screen dimmed to half-light.
Dublin stepped off the wall to the left and stood upright on Lem’s floor, bending awkwardly as he adjusted his vambraces. Such a brilliant mind, and yet as graceful as a turnip.
“Mr. Jukes,” said Dublin, “thank you for coming. I apologize yet again for this delay. It appears that the source of the problem-”
“I am not an engineer,” said Lem with a cheerful smile. “Explaining the problem won’t hasten its repair. I don’t want to distract you any more than necessary from solving the problem. That would be a much better use of your time, wouldn’t you agree?”
Dublin swallowed and attempted a smile. “Oh, well, yes, that’s very kind. Thank you.” He took a step backward.
Lem looked at their faces. “I want to thank all of you for your tireless efforts,” he said. “I know that many of you are functioning on a few hours of sleep, and I recognize that the glitches and delays we’ve experienced are more frustrating to you than anyone else. So I appreciate your patience and perseverance. My father assured me that he had assembled the best team possible, and I know that he was right.” Lem smiled to show them that he meant it. “So let’s pause for a moment and take a deep breath. I know it’s still morning, but except for the people physically working on the fix, let’s take a two-hour break. A nap, for many of you. A meal for others. Then we’ll come back and tear that asteroid apart like a sneeze in a wet tissue.”
Lem made a point of not looking at Dublin, though he noticed that a few of the engineers did. If the laser wouldn’t be ready within the next two hours, this was Dublin’s chance to have a spine and speak up.
Silence in the room.
“Wonderful,” said Lem. “Two hours.”
Lem launched off the floor and headed toward the push tube. He caught himself at the entrance and turned back, as if struck by an unrelated thought. “Oh, and Dr. Benyawe, would you see me in my office, please?”
Dr. Benyawe nodded. “Yes, Mr. Jukes.”
Five minutes later Dr. Benyawe was standing opposite Lem in his office, anchored to the floor with her greaves.
“You have put me in a delicate situation, Mr. Jukes,” she said.
“Have I?” said Lem.
“Calling me to your office. The other engineers will assume that I’m meeting with you to give you an account of the test’s failure. They’ll think I’ve come here to point fingers and pass blame.”
“I was the one who called this meeting.”
“They’ll assume that I’ve been speaking with you for some time without their knowledge, giving you information behind their backs.”
“So they’re bureaucrats, then, and not engineers at all, is that what you’re saying, Dr. Benyawe?”
“They’re human beings first, Mr. Jukes. Engineers second. They’re worried about their livelihoods.”
“If we don’t return to Luna with anything short of absolute success, Doctor, I think all of our careers are over.”
“That is a fair assumption, yes,” said Benyawe. “But that’s true all the time, isn’t it? Fail, and you’re looking for a job.”
“Just one question, Dr. Benyawe. If you had been in charge, would you have already conducted the test?”
“You want to know if I blame Dr. Dublin for the delay.”
“I want to know if you’re willing to proceed despite some degree of uncertainty. I want to know if you’ve reached the point where you think we’ll learn more from failure or partial success than from further dithering about possibilities.”
“Dr. Dublin found some of the pretest readings unsettling,” said Benyawe. “I appreciate his caution. Had I been in his position, however, I would have continued with the test. The glaser is built to accommodate a margin of error within the readings we found.”
“So if you were in charge of this team, we’d already have our results.”
“The gravity laser, Mr. Jukes, is not a device to be taken lightly. Gravity is the most powerful force in the universe.”
“I thought love was.”
Benyawe smiled. “You’re very different from your father.”
“You’ve worked with my father for a long time.”
“He’s given me a chance to be part of great things. He also turned my hair white by the time I was fifty.”
“So why didn’t my father put you in charge of this team, Doctor? You have far more experience than Dublin. And every bit as much knowledge of the gravity laser.”
“Why aren’t you running your own corporation? You’ve certainly had plenty of opportunities to do so. You helped launch four IPOs before your twentieth birthday, you took nine different divisions and companies from the brink of bankruptcy into the black, and the rumor is that you’ve built a private investment empire that knows few equals. And yet here you are, heading up a testing expedition in the Kuiper Belt. Your father doesn’t always make decisions based on resumes.”
“I took this job, Dr. Benyawe, because I believe in the gravity laser.”
“But this test is dangerous. If it works wrong on a massy object like an asteroid, this ship could simply disappear.”
“I’m willing to take risks. Is Dublin?”
“Maybe Dublin was given strict instructions by your father to make sure you came home alive.”
Suddenly Dublin’s dithering and delays took on an entirely different meaning. “So Father put me in charge but gave instructions for Dublin to take care of me?”
“Your father loves you.”
“But not enough to let me make my own decisions.”
Lem knew he sounded petulant, but he also knew he was right. Father didn’t trust him. After all these years, after everything I’ve done outside of Father’s shadow, all of my achievements, all of the ways I’ve exceeded his
