Lifeline

“Cliff, I wouldn’t have thought you’d be back to Clavius so soon.” McLaris steered them to his office.

He offered them some tea brewed from reconstituted wall-kelp. There was enough glucose in the concoction to make it pleasant.

Shaking his head at the offer, Clancy got straight to the point. “Duncan, I think we might have hit on something big. It’s a crazy idea.”

“No, it isn’t,” the woman accompanying him said. Her name tag said Shen. “Crazy, I mean. It’s certainly big enough.”

McLaris settled back in his chair and took a sip of his own tea. “This is bigger than the radio telescope, and you think it’s possible? Let’s hear it.”

“Oh, it’s possible,” Shen said.

“I’ll need some computer time. But I think Rockland can verify it.”

McLaris smiled at their enthusiasm. “Do I have to guess what this is, or are you going to tell me?”

He had been the Production Division leader on Orbitech 1, in charge of enough incentives and bonuses to keep production moving at its peak efficiency. But Clancy’s crew presented a special problem to him. The construction engineers saw themselves as only guests on Clavius Base, pulled off their “real” project of building Orbitech 2. Part of McLaris’s effort had been to get Clancy’s crew motivated into working for the benefit of Clavius Base. That meant allowing them to “hobby shop”—work on pet projects and crazy schemes. So be it, McLaris thought. Maybe something would come of it after all.

Clancy moved to the front of his seat. “We’ve found a way to get to Orbitech 1, if the computer models pan out. And if our experiment is successful, we could have trips from L-5 to Clavius on a regular basis.”

McLaris’s mouth drew out in a tight smile. “We haven’t been in touch with Orbitech 1 since the RIF. Are you serious?”

“Of course he is!” Shen said. “Dr. Rockland can verify the physics within an hour or so. His celestial mechanics group was going ga-ga when we explained it to them. They were so excited, half the group rushed off before we were finished.”

McLaris continued to rock in his chair, increasing the frequency. Outwardly, he wore a smile.

Reestablish contact with Orbitech 1.

Damn you, McLaris! Brahms had said as they rocketed away in the stolen shuttle. Brahms was still up there.

Inwardly, McLaris’s heart felt chilled.

Chapter 38

ORBITECH 1—Day 43

As she floated outside the zero-G deck for the second time, Karen thought the stars looked fixed in the dark sky. Orbitech 1 rotated around her, its gravity quarters wheeling high above her head. A spacesuited figure stood beside her with the temporary name tag that said Harhoosma affixed to his suit. She didn’t know the man—Brahms had just assigned him to help her.

“Are you a hull maintenance worker or something?” Karen had asked him. Once again, she felt very aware that only a thin layer of protective clothing separated her from the vacuum.

“No,” Harhoosma said in a thin, piping voice. “I am a metallurgist.”

When Karen turned toward him in alarm, he continued speaking. “I specialize in vacuum welding. I have spent much time outside, testing different techniques.”

That gave him some legitimacy, she guessed. But Brahms had handpicked him to help. Maybe Harhoosma was watching her for some unknown reason.

Fifty miles away shone the Kibalchich. She found it ironic to want to go to a Soviet station to feel free. The weavewire bridge spanned the two colonies, fainter than the thinnest of spider webs.

I guess this is where you have to believe in yourself, Karen thought. Throughout her career—graduate school, post-doc, as a line research chemist—she had never had to rely so totally on herself to survive. Someone else had always stood by as a safety net—someone to ensure that she’d be all right.

Now, it was her own invention that she depended on. If something happened to the weavewire during her journey, she’d be drifting out where no one could reach her. The thought sobered her. At least Ramis had had practice maneuvering in freefall.

“Dr. Langelier, are you ready?” Harhoosma said.

Karen checked over her suit for the sixth time since coming out. Before she had left the airlock, one of the medics had injected her with a radiation-endurance drug; it would be some time before it took effect.

“All set. I guess I should get going.”

Harhoosma stepped backward, keeping one magnetized sole on the metal hull. “It looks very far away.”

Karen turned to the dolly apparatus she would hook to her back. In a bundle thick enough to see, the weavewire “pulley” hung over the invisible cable, then connected to the wire dolly by tungsten strands. Karen wore a package of personal items for herself and Ramis, and two spare air bottles.