What, then, is truth? Is it a perspective acquired from the consideration of philosophical positions passed down to us through the ages? Is it a conclusion arrived at through a cautious balancing of probabilities and doubt? Is it the opinion of a man or woman whose ability to touch reality necessarily demands credence? However it ripens, get out of the valley when the avalanche comes.
—HAMID BAYLA, LESSONS LEARNED, 3811 CE
“We can package the transmissions,” I said, “if you want to send them on to Gabe. Give him time to think about it before we get back.”
“No, not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“We can’t be sure somebody won’t pick it up. Do we have an encryption capability?”
“Yes.”
He frowned. “Never mind. Let’s let it go until we get home. I think it would be best if we’re both there when Gabe hears all this. Just send him a message, tell him we’ve made some progress, and we’re on our way back.”
“He’s not going to be happy with that.”
“He’ll understand. In fact it’ll tell him we made the intercept.”
“How does it do that?”
“Because if we hadn’t we’d have told him.”
There was no reason to continue waiting. There would not be a third transmission, as much as I hoped, prayed, for one. Something that could somehow give us a happier ending. But we hung on anyway. We sat in the passenger cabin, neither of us doing anything other than looking out windows. It felt as if everything had been playing out over those last few minutes while we sat off to one side and listened, that Harding was closing in with the shuttle, and if we could have somehow been there we might have done something. At least tried. Eventually Alex got up and poured each of us a drink. “Let’s go home.”
I was ready. I told Belle to take us back.
“You okay?” asked Alex.
“I’m sorry we ever came near this place.”
Belle turned us to starboard and began to accelerate. We sat on the bridge, looking out at a sky full of bright stars, not saying much. “I’d hoped for something better,” I said.
“Don’t know what that might have been.”
“Anything else. Aliens would have helped.”
“Do we want to make this public?”
We slipped into transdimensional space and everything outside went dark.
“I’ve no idea.”
“I don’t know what to do with it, Chase. I’d like to just leave it alone. Say nothing. But that leaves everybody hanging.” He released his restraints and got out of the seat. “And let’s not forget Reggie Greene. He must have really loved Charlotte. I mean, he went all the way out to the black hole hoping he’d get lucky. He’s paid a heavy price for it.” He was gripping the arms of his chair.
“If those two transmissions get out,” I said, “they’ll destroy the families.”
“So do we hide the truth?”
“I don’t know, Alex. I’m beginning to think our best course would be to deny that we found anything. However this goes, I don’t want to be any part of it.”
“Trying to explain that Harding killed everybody to protect a bunch of AIs isn’t going to look very good.”
“Maybe we don’t have to explain everything. Maybe we could claim that we just don’t know what it was all about. What he was trying to keep secret. Just that, whatever it was, he was desperate to keep it quiet. He told Charlotte about it, it got out, and he went crazy as a result.”
“Chase, that sounds as if we’re talking about a treasure of some kind. Something he was planning to keep for himself. And it implies he was keeping an eye on Charlotte.”
“I have an idea. Ark talked about a bioweapon that killed everybody. Maybe Harding was concerned that the place would get visitors who would eventually work out the thing’s details. He was concerned about crazy people getting access to it.”
“That still doesn’t compensate for killing his colleagues.” We sat there, staring past each other. “I have a question for you, Chase. Are you keeping notes on all this? Are you planning to write another memoir?”
“I was. It would have been strictly about what happened at the space station. It never occurred to me that the Dyson world would have any connection with it.”
“I think you have the right idea. We don’t reveal the nature of the secret. Or the location of the Dyson world. For all anybody else knows, Harding might have come across an abandoned alien ship with a dangerous technology. A hyper weapon of some sort.”
“And how would we know that?”
“Look, no matter what we make up, there’s no way Harding will come out of this looking good. Or Housman and Womack, for that matter. Even Charlotte will take a hit. We should just back off, forget what we know, and let everything play out. Eventually it will all go away.”
“But it won’t. It hasn’t gone away in twelve years.”
He was standing at the hatch to the passenger cabin. “Maybe we’re too close to it now. Let’s just shut it down for a while. Better yet, maybe Gabe will be able to help. This is going to be a tricky memoir. You’re probably going to have to keep some of this from your readers.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“I’m sorry to see that happen. How do you feel about making stuff up?”
“Alex, have you actually read any of the books?”
“More or less.”
“Then you know I’ve already hidden a lot of information. I’ve changed people’s names, dates, all kinds of personal data. Sometimes I’ve fudged the information that you used to figure out what was going on. For example—”
“Skip the details. I know that. This time, the explanation for what happened to Octavia is the only thing that matters. And that’s at the heart of the narrative. I don’t see how you can lie about it.”
• • •
I wondered if I should resign my position with Rainbow Enterprises. I’d gone through recent confrontations with both Gabe and Alex, and I suspected both might have been happy to see me leave but were reluctant to make the suggestion. Maybe it was time to move on. Getting a new situation wouldn’t be hard. And I could get rid of the accounting and other administrative duties, which were hopelessly boring. But I would probably find myself taking tourists to Earth or Tau Ceti or 58 Eridani. The same flights over and over. After a dozen years with Alex, I didn’t think that was what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. We were still in the first week of our return flight when I broached the subject with him. I don’t remember what we’d been talking about, but it had nothing to do with the tension that I was still feeling.
“Obviously, Chase, you should do whatever would make you happy. But I can tell you in all honesty that neither of us, Gabe or me, would want to see you go. If I can keep you by raising your pay, I’ll certainly make it happen.”
“You’re serious? Both of you guys want me to stay?”
“Of course. Why would you think otherwise?” We were in the passenger cabin, having breakfast. “Something else: we should probably bring Lashonda into it. Tell her everything we know and see what she thinks we should do.”
“You trust her?”
“She gave us access to the cannon AI. Yes, I trust her. We’re going to need her help to get through this.”
“But she could become a leak.”
“I think, ultimately, we have to tell people what happened. We just don’t say where this place—Kalwaka?—is. Do I have that right? There are billions of stars out there. Anybody who goes hunting for these guys is going to be at it a long time.”
“But a star that’s relatively nearby, with a Dyson Sphere, wouldn’t be that hard to locate.”
“We don’t mention the Dyson Sphere. And we don’t talk about distances. We’ll be okay, Chase. There is something else. Lashonda has the details on the families. What I’d like to do, instead of taking this thing on HV, is to bring the families in, and friends of the victims, let them know we have some information about Octavia. However we decide to present it, I’d prefer to give it to them first before it goes public.”
“I just don’t see how we can handle that.”
“Maybe Lashonda can figure something out. Possibly we send them messages inviting them to come into Andiquar for a conference, and ask them not to say anything to the media.”
“You think there’s any chance that would work?”
“It might. We can try it.”
“I’m not sure it wouldn’t be better to just blame it on aliens. Anything would be better than the truth. Imagine their reaction if we tell them that Harding rammed the station with the shuttle and killed everybody. That Charlotte Hill caused it all because she talked too much. That Housman could have—” I stopped to catch my breath. “He could have shut it all down. He and Womack. All they had to do was promise to keep their mouths shut. Everybody looks bad, Alex. The families are better off where they are, thinking it’s aliens or lunatics or something.”
“That’s not what you said last time.” I’d never seen Alex look so uncomfortable. “We’ll figure out a way.”
I didn’t want to bring up any more problems, but eventually we’d have to address it. “There’s another issue,” I said.
“What’s that?”
“The transmission. The families are going to want to hear it. So will the media. Can you imagine what they will go through listening to Charlotte describe what’s happening?”
“Fortunately we have lots of time to think about it.”
“Or Angela,” I said. “How’s she going to react when she finds out what her brother did?”