Starclimber

  “One lousy minute,” grumbled Tobias.

  “One lousy minute could make all the difference, Blanchard,” he said.

  Tobias glared at him, and I worried there might be another flare-up. It was four in the morning, and we were all worn out, but there was no chance of a decent rest. According to Dr. Turgenev’s calculations, we were six hours away from the counterweight. The moment we reached it, we’d all have to get to work. The captain hadn’t yet told us who the two space walkers would be.

  The timeline was seared into my memory by now. Forty minutes for suiting up and doing the prebreathe in the air lock. Thirty minutes to get from the air lock to the counterweight’s hatch. Thirty minutes to open it. Twenty minutes to get inside and set up in front of the control panel. Six minutes for the ignition sequence. Thirty minutes to get back to the ship. And thirty minutes for the Starclimber to reverse away from the counterweight at top speed so we didn’t get incinerated by the rockets.

  “We need everything to go like clockwork,” Shepherd said. “If something happens, or someone messes up along the way, we might not make it.”

  It was too terrible to think about—the counterweight, unstoppable, taking us with it on its fatal plunge earthward. We’d just need to be faster, at the control panel, at the hatch, and at all the space walks between the Starclimber and the counterweight.

  Shepherd looked pale and a bit pinched and kept rubbing his forehead.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  “Fine,” he said. “Let’s reset and go again.”

  I started flipping switches and by accident ripped one right out of the console. I tried to snap it back into place, without any luck.

  “Don’t worry,” said Tobias. “That one’s not important.”

  “They’re all important if you flip the wrong one,” said Shepherd.

  Tobias was about to say something, but Dr. Turgenev cut him off. “Mr. Shepherd is correct. Very important not to be clumsy with controls.”

  I stared at all the small switches and dials and buttons and realized something.

  “We will be clumsy though,” I said. “All of us.”

  “What are you talking about, Cruse?” said Shepherd.

  “I’ll show you,” I said, and jetted down to C-Deck and the air lock.

  When I came back to the lounge, I was wearing a pair of space suit gauntlets. I reached for the controls with my huge, stiff fingers. It was impossible to grasp some of the switches, they were so thin and close together.

  “He’s right,” said Tobias. “There’s no way we can do it in the gloves.”

  Dr. Turgenev was nodding. “Is very good to know, Mr. Cruse. Well done. I had not thought of this.”

  I glanced over at Shepherd, stupidly hoping he’d look impressed. He didn’t. He seemed irritated.

  “We can use needle-nose pliers,” he said.

  “That’ll work,” said Tobias. “But it’ll take longer.”

  “Six minutes,” said Shepherd.

  “You’ve got to give us more time,” Tobias insisted.

  “I can’t invent more time,” said Shepherd. “You’ll do it in six—unless you want to sabotage the whole thing, Blanchard.”

  “Oh, right,” said Tobias, his temper flaring, “I was forgetting. I’m a Babelite. And Cruse is too young and can’t take the pressure. Is there anyone you do trust, Shepherd, you arrogant git?”

  Shepherd’s normally placid face darkened with fury, and he pushed himself at Tobias.

  Hurriedly I put myself between them.

  “Stop it!” I shouted. “This is what they want! Exactly what the Babelites want. They want us to fall apart and start attacking one another. They don’t need to put a bomb on our ship to make us fail. Just make us start doubting each other.”

  Dr. Turgenev gave me an approving nod.

  “All right. Fine,” said Tobias, breathing hard.

  Shepherd said nothing for a moment. “We can add on a few minutes for the ignition sequence,” he said. “I’ll steal it from somewhere else. So let’s put our gloves and tool belts on and get it right. The clock’s ticking.”

  After running through the sequence a few more times, Tobias had to report for bridge duty. I had an hour before my shift, and was headed back to my cabin for a rest. Floating along the A-Deck corridor was an envelope. It was hardly unusual to see things floating about—sometimes very unusual things at that. I’d once found Sir Hugh drifting along A-Deck in his pajamas, fast asleep. I suppose he’d forgotten to strap himself into his bunk.

  I grabbed the envelope and saw that Kate’s name was written on the outside. Not just her name, but the words “My darling Kate.” The handwriting was not mine.

  I shouldn’t have, but I did: I stuffed it into my pocket and hurried inside my cabin. I had the place to myself. I turned on the light and pulled out the letter. The envelope had been slit open, so Kate must have read it already. Hovering near the ceiling, I extracted a piece of creamy paper, unfolded it, and began to read.

  Dearest Kate,

  I wanted you to have this letter to open after you’d embarked, so you might have some reminder of me on your historic expedition. Here is a photo of me that is not bad, and might help keep you company on those lonely nights in outer space.

  Swallowing back my jealousy, I glanced at the small sepia portrait of him in a fine suit, looking at the camera, head cocked, as though having some very stimulating and original thoughts. The camera made him look smarter and more handsome than he was. I went back to the letter.

  My darling, I just wanted to say again that you have made me the happiest of men by agreeing to marry me. I must confess that I’ve admired you from afar for years. I’m terribly sad that you have to go away so soon upon our engagement, but know how important this expedition is to you, and wouldn’t prevent it for the world, my sweet.

  His endearments made me feel quite ill. He wrote with a passion I hadn’t expected. It was clear he was besotted with her.

  Let me also say, dear Kate, that I have the highest regard for your professional ambitions. I myself have long been fascinated by the mysterious and unknown. How wonderful to know I have found a soul mate with whom to explore these tantalizing realms. Rest assured that no interest of yours could repel me, and I look forward to joining you on your secret nighttime excursions.

  Nighttime excursions? The fellow still actually thought Kate was skulking around robbing graves. I cursed myself for talking to him at the garden party and filling his head with wild notions!

  Now, to the most important part of my letter. You asked me a question the night before your departure. You wanted to know if I’d let you carry on with your studies and scientific pursuits once we were married. You wanted to know if you could lead the life you’ve always wanted. And my answer is yes! You may do whatever you please. I will not try to discourage you but do everything I can to help. You will have all the money and time you wish. You have my promise. I wish I could embrace and kiss you right now, my sweet, and I eagerly await your return so we can come to know each other more intimately.

  Your James

  xxoo

  My pulse pounded in my ears. She’d told me she had no intention of marrying Sanderson, so why even bother asking him that question? I realized I was crumpling the letter in my hands, ripping it to shreds. My cheeks were wet. The Starclimber and all our lives were in peril, but all I could think about right now was Kate and James Sanderson. It seemed to me that he’d offered her absolutely everything she’d ever wanted—and that Kate meant to take it.

  THE COUNTERWEIGHT

  “I think she might marry him,” I told Tobias.

  We were alone on the bridge, and I’d just finished telling him about Sanderson’s letter. I needed to tell someone before my fury and anxiety swelled like nitrogen bubbles in my bloodstream.

  “But she doesn’t even like him,” Tobias said.

  “No, but she loves what he’s offering—the chance to do whatever she wants for the rest of h
er life.”

  It was coming on nine o’clock in the morning, and we were traveling at flank speed. Our main duty was as lookouts now, for we were supposed to reach the counterweight around ten o’clock by Dr. Turgenev’s reckoning. We were some twenty-one thousand miles from earth. We’d switched on the bow-mounted searchlights, and they blazed a column of light along the astral cable. The captain had told us we should be able to see the counterweight from quite a distance, but we weren’t taking any chances. A collision was the last thing we needed. Tipped right back in our chairs so we could stare straight up, Tobias and I took ten-minute shifts as lookout, so our eyes wouldn’t weary.

  “I don’t understand,” Tobias said. “She’s rich already. She doesn’t need Sanderson’s money to do what she wants, does she?”

  I shook my head. “It’s not just the money. If she breaks off this engagement, even if she makes up some fantastic story, her parents aren’t stupid. They’re going to know she’s tricked them. They might cut her off for good. No more money, no more university, no more Paris. Just drinking tea and sewing little doilies in Lionsgate City. But if she goes through with the marriage, she’s guaranteed everything she wants.”

  “Not everything,” said Tobias. “Not you.”

  I sighed. “That’s what worries me. What if she can do without me?”

  “Come on, Matt, what does Kate want more? You or her work?”

  “You’ve seen what’s she like. She was ready to keep that etherian hatchling aboard even if it ate people.”

  “She’s pretty determined,” Tobias admitted.

  We sat for a moment in silence. I was waiting for Tobias to leap in with something brilliant that would set all my worries to rest. I looked off to starboard and saw the star I’d named for Kate, twinkling tauntingly, reminding me how very far away it was.

  “Look, I’m no expert on these things,” Tobias said, “but it seems pretty simple to me. Ask her to marry you.”

  I looked at him, horrified.

  “Isn’t that what you want?” Tobias asked.

  “Yeah, but I’m not sure I want to get married yet.”

  “The engagement can go on for years,” Tobias said. “One of my cousins was engaged for five years while he got established. Just propose to Kate. If she loves you, she’ll say yes. But if she says no, and makes up some excuse, then you’ll know it’s never going to work out. You’ll just get your heart broken. In the long run, it’s best to know now, don’t you think?”

  I thought for a few moments, then said, “You’re right, Tobias. Thanks.”

  He shrugged. “What do I know about girls? I just sit on them. Anyway, if you’re going to ask her to marry you, you might want to do it soon, because we might be dead before long.”

  I laughed at myself. “Yeah, sorry, I’m thinking about all the wrong things.” It seemed ridiculous to worry about Kate right now, but she was such a big part of my life, I could never shut out the thought of her for long. I glanced at the ship’s clock and took over from Tobias as lookout.

  “Shepherd and the captain are going to be making the space walk,” Tobias said. “Don’t you think? We’re on duty, they’re resting up.”

  “Makes sense,” I said. Part of me was relieved. It was a huge job, and all our lives depended on its success. I’d become much swifter after all the practice runs, but I worried I’d make a mistake, especially if I was paired with Shepherd. He was good, but he was no team player, and his lack of confidence in me undermined my own.

  Directly overhead, something sparkled in the ship’s searchlights.

  “Look!” I cried.

  “Is that it?” said Tobias.

  It was like a small metal moon, still a ways off, but growing, slow and steady.

  “Yeah, that’s it,” I said, checking the pictures Dr. Turgenev had drawn for us. Taped to our control panel, they showed what the counterweight would look like from various distances as we approached. “We’re at sixty miles, I’d say.”

  “I’ll go wake everyone,” said Tobias.

  “Dead slow, please, Mr. Blanchard,” the captain said.

  We all stared up through the glass dome, the four astralnauts and Dr. Turgenev, watching tensely as the Starclimber crawled toward the underside of the counterweight.

  Now that we were closer, we saw how truly immense it was. Its stern loomed over us, its four protruding rocket engines each the size of the Starclimber. From the very center of the stern ran the astral cable.

  “There is room, there is room,” said Dr. Turgenev as the Starclimber eased up between the four rocket engines, closer to the ship’s hull. I felt my shoulders tensing as the great singed columns of the engines slid past the windows, for it seemed very tight; but according to the blueprints, the Starclimber was designed to fit between them.

  I looked over at Shepherd and saw him squinting and rubbing at his left brow.

  “And full stop, please,” said the captain, when our flexed spider arms were within twenty feet of the counterweight’s hull. “Dr. Turgenev, how much time do we have?”

  The scientist had been furiously jotting notes. “Two hundred five minutes, give or take a few minutes.”

  “We’re in good shape,” the captain said. “Our best time in trials was a hundred and eighty minutes. Mr. Shepherd and I will be making the walk. Mr. Blanchard, I want you in the air lock spotting us, and guiding us back when the time comes. Mr. Cruse, I want you up here at the helm. As soon as we’re in the air lock, you put the Starclimber into reverse at flank speed.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Let’s head to the air lock, Mr. Shepherd.”

  Shepherd was blinking a lot, one hand to his face as though shielding his eyes from the sun’s glare. He was very pale.

  “Are you all right?” I asked him quietly.

  He waved me away. But he was clumsy as he sailed toward the stairs, and he overshot, colliding with the wall.

  “Mr. Shepherd, are you unwell?” the captain asked.

  “Just a headache,” he muttered, his voice sounding thick.

  The captain floated over to him. Shepherd kept blinking as if having trouble focusing. A tremor of fear passed through me. We needed Shepherd strong. As much as I disliked him, he was our best astralnaut.

  “How bad is the pain?” the captain asked.

  “It’ll pass.”

  “Does the light hurt your eyes?”

  “Some. Not much.”

  “Catch,” said the captain, tossing a pencil in his direction. Squinting, Shepherd grabbed for it, but missed by a foot.

  “You’re having a migraine, Mr. Shepherd. My wife’s a sufferer. How long have you had this condition?”

  “Not a condition, sir,” said Shepherd. “I’ve had maybe three my whole life.”

  The captain didn’t look convinced. “How long do they last?”

  “They come on real slow, and mostly go away without amounting to much.” Without warning he turned and retched, his vomitus drifting in the air.

  The captain placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not going out.”

  He turned and looked from Tobias to me. He’d pick Tobias. I’d improved, but my friend was still more agile in outer space. That was the right choice.

  “You’re coming with me, Mr. Cruse,” the captain said.

  “Me, sir?” I said, astounded—and afraid.

  “Cruse can’t do it,” Shepherd said, gripping his temples.

  “Mr. Cruse is more than capable,” said the captain. “Mr. Blanchard, you’ll remain spotter. Mr. Shepherd, I suggest you get some rest. You’re in no fit state to be on duty. Dr. Turgenev, you know the controls as well as we do. We’ll need you to reverse the Starclimber and take us down before the rockets ignite.”

  “This I can do.” The Russian scientist nodded but looked nervously out at the enormous engines. I imagined them spewing flame, creating enough heat to melt the ship to slag.

  “We’ve already lost a few precious minutes,” said the captain. “Mr. Blancha
rd, Mr. Cruse, to the air lock.”

  It was a kind of torture, to know our seconds were ticking away and to have to sit still, breathing tanked oxygen in the air lock. I tried not to think about everything we needed to do in the next three hours. I looked over at the captain.

  “You’ll be glad to return to the Aurora after this, sir,” I said.

  “She’s a grand ship. But this is my last voyage as captain.”

  I was stunned. “I didn’t know that, sir.”

  “No captain likes to talk of retiring.”

  I felt a keen disappointment. I’d always hoped that one day I’d work as an officer aboard the Aurora, under Captain Walken’s command. But right now it was also comforting to imagine him retired, safe at home. It meant we would live through this.

  “Well, sir, it’s hard to imagine a more dramatic finish for your career,” I said.

  He chuckled. “Indeed. We’ll be quite the heroes when we return home.”

  “You’ll probably be happy to have your feet on the ground,” Tobias said, and added, “I know I will.”

  “It’s no easy thing to give up the sky,” the captain said. “But I made a promise to my wife. She and the children have seen me off on far too many long voyages. It’s been hard on them, and me too. So I promised to retire early, to see more of them all. I’m finally to be at anchor.”

  It made me think of the life I wanted for myself. Always sailing off somewhere. Was it foolish to think I could fit Kate into it, if she’d even have me?

  “But you don’t regret it, do you, sir?” I asked. “The airborne life?”

  He smiled. “Not at all. It’s been grand. Now, let’s get our helmets on, gentlemen. We’re ready.”

  We jetted out from the air lock, between two of the counterweight’s massive engines. It was like traveling through a metal canyon, and we took special care to keep our umbilicuses from getting tangled. I breathed a sigh of relief when we were through and into open space.