The idea filled him with unease.
The thing was, he was only fifty-two years old. With modern nanomedicine and life extension techniques, he could expect anothercentury and a half of active life at least, and by the time he reached the ripe old age of two hundred, Gray was willing tobet that they’d have achieved something that amounted to practical immortality.
He was not going to spend the rest of eternity—or even a couple of centuries—flying that desk. Lots of people switched careersonce they hit fifty or sixty, and could expect to do so several times over their long lives. Why not him?
He just wished that he knew what other career might hold any interest for him whatsoever.
He’d figure that out when he got there. But that mentality was all he needed to accept this assignment. If Walker did forcehim into retirement, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. He’d find something else . . . and he was confident enough to knowthat whatever the new career was, he would be damned good at it.
It occurred to him that these orders constituted a kind of coup, undercutting Walker’s clear constitutional authority in ablatant attempt to change the administration’s policy. In fact, taking a star carrier out to Omega Centauri and beyond againstthe express orders of a presidential directive just might be construed as treason.
“It won’t be the first time you’ve committed treason for a higher good,” Konstantin said.
Damn! Somehow the machine was reading his mind again. Or did it simply know him so well that it knew what he was thinking?
“Not treason,” Koenig said. “Not quite.”
This, Gray thought, was one of those classic situations where it would turn out to be treasonous if the expedition ended indisaster. If he succeeded, well . . . he might end up a hero.
He didn’t care about that. What was important was the well-being of those under his command. He would have to make certain that if he was indicted for treason, his crew didn’t go down with him.
Assuming, of course, that any of them returned from this insane adventure.
“Konstantin,” Gray said. “How is it that you keep pulling shit like this and no one has unplugged you yet?”
“An interesting question, Admiral,” the SAI replied. “I will give it due consideration and let you know after your returnfrom the past.”
“So when do you need my decision?” Gray asked.
“As soon as possible,” Koenig replied. “By tomorrow, perhaps?”
“What’s the rush? The Sh’daar fleet won’t be that much farther along if we wait a week.”
“Agreed,” Konstantin replied. “However, President Walker is taking steps to block all access to other civilizations . . .especially those that were part of the Sh’daar Collective during the war. We don’t know what else he has planned, but it’snot impossible that he’ll decide to enforce some sort of departure embargo on Navy ships. There are secret files on-line towhich I have access dealing with the technical means of disabling ships currently in port.”
“Come on!” Gray said, shocked. “I know the guy’s an isolationist, but that’s going a little far, isn’t it?”
“At this point, Trev, we have no idea what’s too far for this guy and what is not. He’s just shut down SIRCOM.”
“That was your research group, wasn’t it?”
“It was.” Koenig stressed the second word.
Singularity Research Committee had been a Columbus-based think tank dedicated to studying potential aspects of the Singularityand formulating possible responses to it. The idea had been to guide Humankind into and through the more serious dangers ofthe Singularity, and the former President had been a senior member.
“Walker is a loose cannon, making snap judgments and throwing his weight around,” Koenig continued. “We need to act before it’s too late to do anything constructive.”
Gray nodded—that made sense—but he was still considering the idea of contravening a presidential order. The USNA wasn’t atwar at the moment, so they wouldn’t kill him for treason. But he might be looking at a long term in prison or, far worse,loss of Net access or even a personality rewrite.
That he would need to think about . . .
“I’ll let you know as soon as I can.”
Chapter Three
06 April, 2429
SupraQuito Complex
Earth Synchorbit
0725 hours, EST
“I’ve got to leave, love.”
“Not yet. Another minute?”
“I want to be on board by oh eight thirty.”
Laurie Taggart snuggled closer to Gray, holding him tight. “I wish I were going with you.”
“Me, too.”
They floated together in a tangle of arms and legs within a padded room. The Clarke’s Overlook was strictly a tourist hotellocated close by the naval yards, but they offered decent accommodations including so-called honeymoon nests—rooms that could give you a decent night’s sleep, but which were primarily designed for zero-G sex. A hideaway closet contained a varietyof soft bungie cords for holding a person close to one or more others despite their most vigorous movements.
One bulkhead looked out into a dizzying panorama of orbital structures perched atop the Quito Space Elevator. SupraQuito orbited the Earth at an altitude and with a velocity that precisely matched the rotation of the Earth on the equator, which meant that the Clarke Overlook was in constant free fall.
The two of them had met here before. Two years ago, Taggart had been transferred to Mars while Gray was flying a desk in Washington,but they came here whenever possible. As the old saying had it, Earth orbit was halfway to anywhere. This was the energeticequivalent of meeting halfway, even though Mars was at least a thousand times farther from here than Earth.
Even so, it was hell making their schedules mesh, and Gray was glad for the opportunity, brief though it was.
Taggert wasn’t as happy with the duration of this visit. “So . . . you’re off to meet the gods again?”
He pulled his head back far enough to look at her face, haloed by a drifting blond tangle of hair. “You’re not into that AACcrap again, are you?”
“No. Of course not.” She sounded
