‘There’s nothing to look into, Captain. We have classified every single component on board the arkship, and identified their use. Whatever triggered the flare is not here. Presumably, if there was more than one, the others were evacuated along with the crew and the control array. After all, it’s not the kind of thing a responsible species would leave lying around.’
‘Good point. What I was trying to determine through the flare technology is if the Marie Celeste builders had the ability to throw up the Dyson barrier.’
‘No, they didn’t have that ability. The Dyson Pair barriers pre-date the arkship. We are dealing with yet another unidentified alien species, perhaps two if the wilder ideas about the barrier’s defensive nature are true. I wish you luck in your encounter.’
‘Thank you.’
‘While we are in contact, I’d be very glad to offer sabbatical leave to any of the Institute’s researchers who you’d care to have on your crew. The experts we have here are quite formidable, both in terms of expertise and capability, many of them are advanced, like myself.’
‘That’s a very generous offer, Mr Director. We’re about to issue our requirements for the Second Chance, and I’m sure your personnel will match up.’
‘Very well then.’ His hand was raised in a small wave as the image disappeared from the portal.
Oscar pulled a face. ‘So that takes the Marie Celeste aliens out of the equation.’
‘Looks like it, not that I ever believed the Guardians, but it’s useful ammunition for the next media interview.’
*
Although it was officially summer, the winds from the west had been bringing rain clouds in from the ocean for over three weeks. Leonida City suffered thunderstorms and flash floods in most of the parks. Even today, the sky was blocked by lustreless grey clouds whose constant drizzle was falling on the lightweight plastic awning which had been set up over the podium. As he looked out across the audience sitting on the lawn of the university’s botanical garden, Dudley Bose didn’t even see the dull glimmer of moisture clinging to their suits and fanciful summer hats. He was too wrapped up in his own sense of awe and delight to pay attention to anything as mundane as the weather.
The dean also seemed immune to the suffering before him, as his speech rambled on and on. Sitting just behind him, Gralmond’s Vice President was trying to keep a civil expression on her face. Eventually, the dean finished complimenting the university under his own leadership, and gestured to Dudley Bose.
Making his way to the lectern, Dudley had a sudden bout of nerves as the event hit home. He caught sight of Wendy, his wife, sitting tall in the front row, applauding loudly. Ranged beside her were his students; one of them let out a piercing whistle, while the other two were laughing as though this was the biggest joke in the world. Typical, he thought. But the sight of them allowed him to carry on with renewed conviction.
Dudley stepped up to the dean, who solemnly handed over the scroll of parchment which signified his appointment to full professorship. The applause peaked, and Dudley smiled down happily at his damp audience, and absolutely did not scratch the OCtattoo on his ear – Wendy had been very specific about that. He said his standard, trite thank yous and added how privileged he was to be a part of an academic institution as grand as this university, made one little point about how government should always support pure science (a thoughtful nod of agreement from the Vice President behind him), and finished up by saying: ‘I now hope to build upon the discovery which Gralmond has made possible by representing this planet as a crew member on the Second Chance. By contributing our planet’s expertise and unique experience we may finally unravel the mystery which has haunted our species for the last two hundred years. All I can say is that I will do my best not to let you down. Thank you very much.’
The applause which greeted the end of the speech was warmer and louder than he’d been expecting. As he turned, the Vice President rose and shook him by the hand. ‘I’ll certainly do what I can to get you on that ship,’ she murmured.
Dudley sat down and smiled oafishly through her speech about the long-term grant her administration was utterly delighted to be awarding the university’s newly enlarged astronomy department. He’d been agitating for a berth on the Second Chance from the moment he’d heard of the mission. In every unisphere interview, and there were many, he’d told the reporters how he deserved to be on it, how his contribution couldn’t possibly be overlooked, how his exclusive know-ledge on the subject made him indispensable. He’d done the same to every politician he’d met, every industrialist, every high society member he’d encountered at the hundred cocktail parties and dinners he’d received invitations to since the discovery. His lobbying had been relentless. The envelopment observation had given him a security he’d never known before, with the awarding of his professorship and sudden rush of money into his department. Success, he’d found, had a delectable taste. He wanted more, and the starship was the way to get it. There would be no limit to what he could achieve when he returned triumphant from the distant Dyson Pair.
As soon as the Vice President finished her announcement the audience broke for the reception in the main hall where canapés and wine were being served. Several local companies had helped fund the day, which allowed the bursar to bring in outside caterers, elevating the usual standard of university parties.
Wendy Bose snagged a glass of rosé from one of the young waiters and looked round to see where Dudley had got to. It was a day of conflicting emotions for her. The relief she felt at seeing him finally get his professorship was profound, it secured both their futures. Already, at the city planning office where she worked, her own promotion had finally gone through; her R&R pension was safe and sound, in another eleven years she could go for a rejuvenation. A decent one this time, she thought. Over the last few years she’d been very conscious of her hips getting heavy again. Just at the wrong time. Dudley was clocking up a lot of inquiries from companies, there had even been mention of non-executive directorships. Gossip around the university common room said he was now a contender for the dean’s job in a few years’ time. She needed to look good, fit the part of capable supportive wife. When she’d married him, she hadn’t expected anything like this level of professional and personal success, just a quiet life spent pleasantly on the fringe of the capital’s social and governmental circles. Now, Dudley’s fame was changing all that. So far they’d faced it together, but she was only too aware of the strength of their marriage. It was another of those perfectly amicable unions that was intended to last maybe a couple of decades, a standard anodyne to the loneliness of mediocre achievers right across the Commonwealth. As such it could trundle along contentedly so long as nothing too momentous affected it. And here he was, the most famous astronomer in the Commonwealth, right in the middle of a campus of beautiful young girls, and being courted by companies with serious money.
‘Mrs Bose?’
Wendy turned to find a very tall man smiling inquisitively at her. His apparent age was late-thirties, though she knew he was a lot older than that, several lifetimes at least. She’d rarely seen someone so self-confident. He had blond hair which verged on silver, and eyes that were so dark it was hard to see where the iris began. Combined with a small nose and delicate prominent cheeks, he was striking rather than handsome, certainly memorable.
‘That’s me,’ she smiled, slightly edgy, knowing people like this didn’t usually single her out – for whatever reason.
‘I’m with Earle News,’ he held up a small card with golden wings in the middle. ‘I was wondering if I could have a few moments with you, please.’
‘Oh, of course,’ Wendy automatically slipped into good corporate wife mode – she’d had enough practice recently. ‘It’s a very proud day for me, Dudley’s achievement means so much, not just to the university but to Gralmond itself.’
‘Absolutely. It’s certainly put you on the map. I had to look up which section of space Gralmond was in, and I’ve been to a
lot of worlds. My brief is a roving one.’
‘Really, that must be very interesting, Mr . . .’
‘Oh, that’s: Brad, please.’
‘Okay, Brad.’ She smiled at him over the rim of her drink.
‘One thing I was curious about when I researched the university, it has just about the smallest astronomy department anywhere. Was it your husband who started it?’
‘Oh no, that was Dr Marance, he was one of the founders of the university; his actual discipline was astrophysics. The astronomy department was set up under his wing, apparently he was quite a dynamic character, hard to say no to. He believed astronomy was an essential component to classifying the universe, so there wasn’t much opposition to setting up the observatory. Then he left for rejuvenation, and Dudley got the appointment to carry on running the department. It’s been a bit of a struggle, to be honest; astronomy was still part of the physics department. It hasn’t really been independent until today.’ She took a sip of the rosé. ‘Big day.’
‘I see. But it still managed to attract funding after Dr Marance left, enough funding to keep it going independently.’
‘Well there are all sorts of sources you can apply to: government and educational foundations. It was a constant struggle for Dudley to secure the budget every year, but he’s most tenacious, and a very capable administrator. Thankfully. He managed to keep going against quite a few odds. And, well, look at the result.’
‘Quite. So it really is a case of the small noble man against the universe.’
‘I wouldn’t put it exactly like that. Nobody was opposing him, it’s just that astronomy isn’t the most highly valued discipline these days. That’s all changing, now, of course. We’ve had over eight thousand applicants to study with Dudley in the next academic year.’
‘I take it you won’t be able to accommodate them all?’
‘Unfortunately not. It’s going to take some time to build the department up to Commonwealth-class standards. And, of course, Dudley may well be involved in the Second Chance mission.’
‘Really?’
‘He ought to be,’ she said emphatically. ‘He was the discoverer, after all. He’s devoted years of his life to the Dyson Pair, that dedication has made him the Commonwealth’s premier expert on the subject. It would be very strange if they didn’t take him along as part of the science team, now wouldn’t it?’
‘I suppose so. Has Captain Kime asked him to join the crew?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Like you say, I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. But I’m more interested in his history, and that of the astronomy department here at the university. I’m sure you’re being modest, but it really does sound like an epic battle; the fight for recognition, the fight for money, year after year. That provides quite an insight into your husband’s personality.’
‘I’m very proud of him.’
‘Can you tell me who some of the supporters were in the past? For example, which educational trusts provided money or resources?’
‘Ah, well there was the Frankton First Advancement, the St James Outlook Fund, the Kingsford Pure Research Enablement Foundation, BG Enterprise, they all made most generous contributions; but the largest single donation came from the Cox Educational charity, that’s based on Earth.’
‘An Earth charity supporting work out here, that’s quite remarkable.’
‘They support a lot of basic scientific groundwork in Universities across the Commonwealth, I believe.’
‘So how long have the Cox Commissioners been supporters of your husband’s department?’
‘Eleven years now, ever since we arrived here.’
‘What are they like?’
‘Who?’
‘The Charity commissioners.’
‘I don’t know. The contact was made over the unisphere. They’ve never actually visited. We are one of thousands of projects they support.’
‘They didn’t even come today?’
‘No, I’m afraid not. As you say, it’s a long way for a glass of wine and a canapé.’
‘Okay, so what made Professor Bose choose the Dyson Pair as his observation target?’
‘Distance. Gralmond was in the right place to observe the envelopment. Not that we expected one as dramatic as this.’
‘Did he choose Gralmond because of that? Was he interested in the Dyson Pair before?’
‘Not especially, no. After all, Dudley is a pure astronomer, and the envelopment for all it’s an astounding event, isn’t natural.’
‘He only started the observation after you arrived, then?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did the university say about that proposal?’
‘They didn’t say anything, it’s up to Dudley to decide the astronomy department’s objectives.’
‘And the foundations, they didn’t object? They are mostly pure science institutions, aren’t they?’
‘Brad, are you trying to find a scandal?’
‘Oh, good heavens, no. I haven’t worked for a good old muck-raking tabloid show like Baron’s in decades. I just want the history, that’s all. To tell a story properly, you need background; it doesn’t necessarily all get included, but those details have to be there to add authority. I’m sorry, I’m lecturing, I’ve been doing my job for a long time.’
‘That wasn’t a lecture. If you’d lived with Dudley for any length of time, you’d know what a lecture is.’ Damn. Did that sound bitter?
‘I’m sure. So, the foundations and their funding?’
‘They were supportive, especially the Cox. In fact, I think the Dyson Pair observation was written into the endowment contract, they wanted to make sure it was seen through to its conclusion.’
‘Did they now?’
Just for a second, Wendy saw a flash of triumph on his slender face. It was rather unnerving, she’d thought him more controlled than that, a long-lived sophisticate. ‘Is that import-ant?’ she asked.
‘Not at all,’ he said with an urbane smile, much more in character. He leant forward slightly, taking her into his mischievous confidence. ‘Now tell me, just how is the dean handling all this? One of his professors becoming the most famous academic in the Commonwealth must be a bit of a shock.’
Wendy gave her glass a demure glance. ‘I couldn’t possibly say.’
‘Ah, well, you can’t say I didn’t try. I must thank you for sparing so much of your time on this day.’
‘That’s it?’
‘Yes.’ He inclined his head politely, then raised a finger. ‘One thing: when you see Paula, please tell her from me to stop concentrating on the details, it’s the big picture that counts.’
‘I don’t understand, I don’t know anyone called Paula.’
He grinned. ‘You will.’ And with that he slipped away through the crowd, leaving her staring after him, bemused, if not somewhat irritated, by his ridiculously cryptic message.
*
Two hours into the reception, Dudley’s e-butler told him the police were calling him. ‘You’re not serious,’ he told it.
‘I’m afraid so. There are two patrol cars at the house. A neighbour reported someone leaving.’
‘Well what does the house array say?’
‘The house array seems to be off line.’
‘Goddamn it.’
‘Will you be coming? The police did emphasize it is important.’
‘Yes, yes!’
So he had to break away from the chairman of Orpheus Island, who had been suggesting a serious sponsorship arrangement for some of the observatory equipment – possibly extending to the Second Chance – give up his wine glass to a rather pretty waitress, who knew his name and smiled, then walk round the hall trying to find Wendy. It didn’t help that she was also moving round trying to find him. They both decided not to say their goodbyes to the dean.
The Carlton drove them back home. Slumped down in his seat, Dudley realized how drunk he was. But the wine had been good, and the catering staff kept filling hi
s glass. Wendy gave him a disapproving look as he climbed out of the car using extreme caution.
Constable Brampton was waiting for them beside the front door of their two-storey home. Like all the others on the housing estate, it was local wood pinned to a carbonsteel frame, and painted a deep green. The windows were white, with the glass turned up to full opacity. The policeman saluted casually as they approached. ‘Doesn’t seem to be any damage,’ he said. ‘But we’ll need you to take a look round and see if anything’s missing.’
Wendy gave the open door a curious glance. ‘You’re sure they’ve gone?’
‘Yes ma’am. We’ve checked it out thoroughly. Nobody inside apart from us.’ He gestured with an open hand.
Dudley couldn’t see any obvious signs of a burglary. No broken objects, furniture exactly where it always was. The only thing wrong was the lack of response from the house array. ‘What happened?’ he asked.
‘Your neighbour reported someone leaving by the front door. They got into a car parked just down the street and drove off. He knew you were at a function at the university, so he called us.’
‘My husband was getting his professorship,’ Wendy said.
‘Yes ma’am,’ Constable Brampton said. ‘I know that. Congratulations, sir, you deserve it. What you did put old Gralmond right on the map.’
Wendy frowned. That was the second time she’d heard that phrase today.
Dudley gave the front door an annoyed look, it was properly wired, the insurance company had insisted on that. And the house array had excellent security routines. ‘How did they get in?’
‘We’re not sure. Somebody who knew what they were doing. Bypassed all your electronics, takes a smart person to do that. Or someone with a smart program.’
They went into Dudley’s study. He felt as if he should apologize for the mess. There were books and glossy printouts everywhere, pieces of old equipment, a window almost invisible behind the rampant potted plants. Two forensic officers were examining the desk and its open drawer. The house array was inside, a simple housing box with junction sockets connecting it to more fibre optic cables than the performance spec really permitted. He’d been meaning to upgrade for a while.