The Spheres of Heaven

35: THE ONLY ANSWER

Chan had thought that the most difficult part of his return would be the first two minutes. He was wrong.

From the moment that Deb had appeared at the Hero’s Return to tell the others that she had been forced to leave the land, everyone had naturally been desperate to know what was happening ashore. They wanted to hear about Chan’s meeting with the Mallies. They wanted information , and compared with that his emotions or feelings were a very low priority.

He gave a lengthy but highly edited version of events after Deb had been forced to leave, concentrating on what he had seen of the Malacostracans and confirming their confidence that they could open the Link entry point at will and fly their ships through it. He described his meeting with The One, but said nothing of the deal that he had made.

“Actually, we spent most of the time just trying to communicate with each other,” he said. “The Angel is right about Friday Indigo, he’s been taken over totally by the Mallies. But talking to them, even with him helping, is hard work. I still don’t know if there’s any way that we can work with them to get ourselves through the Link and home. I have to go back there first thing in the morning, and try again.”

Chan was uncomfortably aware of Gressel. The Angel was sitting in a well-lit corner, fronds unmoving. It was said that an Angel could simulate human thought patterns so well that lying to one of them was impossible. But Gressel remained silent.

“What about Chrissie and Tarbush?” Danny Casement asked. “Deb said they escaped. Are they still free?”

“So far as I know.” Chan was glad to switch to something he could talk about freely. “I tried to call them just before I came back here, but they didn’t reply. The land surface is a lot more complex and jagged than it looks on the satellite images. They could be hidden away in a thousand places.”

“Out of radio contact, perhaps?” Deb said.

She was looking at Chan very strangely. Maybe it was his own feeling of guilt at what he was concealing from her and the others. But if he told anyone his idea, anyone at all, they would find a reason why he shouldn’t go through with it.

“More likely Chris and Tarb were away from their suits for a while,” he said. “They must know we’re looking for them, and they’re far too smart to put themselves permanently in a place where signals can’t reach. One good thing, they have plenty of supplies. I passed our first camp on the way to the sea, and they’d raided it long before I got there.”

He stared around at the little circle of weary faces. Not one had slept the night before, and it was doubtful if they had managed to rest while he was gone. “You all look as tired as I am. I’m also starving. If nobody objects, I’d like a meal and a nap. After that I’ll be happy to answer as many new questions as you can dream up.”

Tully O’Toole nodded and said, “Go, Chan man, you need to feed.” He looked like a human wreck who had not eaten for months, a gray skeleton in tattered clothes leaning over the back of Elke Siry’s chair; but he seemed cheerful. “Don’t take too long.”

“He’s right,” Dag Korin said. “Go and eat. I’m not so sure about the nap. We have to leave the poor old Hero’s Return as soon as possible. The place won’t be habitable much longer.”

The lights flickered, as though emphasizing his point. Chan nodded and left the control room, heading toward the bow of the ship. He had hoped to be left alone, but he should have known better. Deb followed him into the corridor.

“I haven’t had anything to eat, either,” she said. “If you’re going to have a meal, I thought that we might —”

“Actually, I’m not.” Chan halted. “Not going to eat, I mean. I’m too rushed. And I need some time alone.”

He saw the expression on her face, and went on, “I have to record exactly what the Malacostracans said to me, while it’s still fresh in my mind. It’s difficult to do that when other people are around.”

“I see.” She seemed ready to say more, but instead she turned abruptly and hurried back the way that they had come.

Chan resisted the urge to go after her. He did need time alone, even if it was not for the reason he had given Deb. He needed time to think, and then to create a crucial document. He ducked away into a side chamber, once used as a small-arms supply room but now empty and deserted. Water had seeped in from some unseen crack, leaving the floor slick and treacherous. Two of the three lights were no longer working, and the remaining one glowed faint and feeble.

Chan leaned against the wall, reviewed what he intended to do, and made a decision. He dared not tell Deb his plan, much as he would like to; and because of that he could not see her again before he left the Hero’s Return. Which meant that he would not see her again, ever.

The thought froze his soul. He left the little armory and moved along the length of the ship until he came to the forward observation chamber. In another life, the view from here had been of stars and glowing gas clouds and pinwheeling galaxies. It was from here that he and Elke Siry had watched Ceres fall behind, and he knew that their long journey had begun.

Now Chan saw nothing ahead but the murky waters of Limbo. He said loudly, “Is the computer working in here?”

The audio outlet replied, SERVICE IN THIS LOCATION IS GUARANTEED FOR THE NEXT TWENTY-ONE HOURS, BUT NOT BEYOND.

“That will be more than enough. I want you to record what I say, then make a single printed copy. After I review that document and make changes, I want a single final printed output, sealed in an envelope. No copies.”

THERE IS NO OUTPUT UNIT AT THIS LOCATION. THE NEAREST IS IN ROOM I-293, THIRTY-EIGHT METERS AFT ON THIS LEVEL.

“That will be fine. I’ll pick it up from there. Prepare to record.”

READY FOR INPUT.

Chan took a deep breath. “To General Dag Korin, from Chan Dalton. Some of my actions in the next twenty- four hours will be useless unless they are accompanied by very specific actions on your part. Let me first define my plan. I intend to proceed as follows …”

He spoke, calmly but with numerous pauses, for the next hour. The review and revisions took even longer. By the time that Chan finished he was feeling the hunger that he had pretended to earlier. He was light-headed from lack of food. He also had to solve one other problem: how was the document that he had created to be delivered to Dag Korin, after Chan left the ship and not before? The logical answer was Deb Bisson, but maybe that wasn’t logical at all. Maybe it only reflected his aching need to see her one last time.

When Chan left the observation chamber the interior of the Hero’s Return seemed like the dead ghost ship that it was soon to become. The corridors were empty, and Chan felt reluctant to disturb their silence. He was intending to spend most of the night in a suit, alone in the dark waters of Limbo, waiting for the time when he could again go ashore. He knew it would be unpleasant; but he could face that prospect, and what lay beyond, more easily than the next few hours on the dying ship.

He walked quietly back toward the control room, the sealed envelope held close to his chest. He was passing one of the unused passenger suites, in a location where none of the team had living quarters, when he heard someone talking.

“ … be working. When all the others are so busy …”

It was Bony Rombelle’s voice. Chan realized that the Bun and Liddy Morse had not been on board the Hero’s Return when everyone else chose living quarters. They must have settled here, farther forward.

Liddy — easier to hear then Bony — said, “They’re not all busy, they’re resting.