Lifeline

Sandovaal reached out and initiated the command that would send a tiny voltage jolt to the electrodes embedded in the array. Imperceptibly, the sail-creatures began to recoil from the irritating sensation. Their bodies moved scant millimeters as they started to swing their vast wings around, until they were fully exposed to the light pressure from the Sun.

Minutes passed before Sandovaal could detect any sensation of movement by watching the image of the Aguinaldo. The acceleration process had begun, and they continued to gain momentum from the solar photons. In a week’s time they would be skirting the Earth.

When he first noticed that his armada was moving at a crawl, Sandovaal whispered into the audio channel. “Yoli, is the recorder on? I wish to say something for posterity.”

After a short pause, Magsaysay’s tinny voice came over the speakers in his helmet. “Go ahead, Luis. We are anxious to hear you.”

Sandovaal smiled and drew a deep breath. “Aguinaldo, do not fear for us. This is another triumph for all Filipinos. And, in the immortal words of the great General MacArthur—I shall return!”

Chapter 50

CLAVIUS BASE—Day 69

A cluster of people milled just inside the main airlock. Tomkins had always felt uneasy in groups. He also hated going outside, where he had to devote 99 percent of his attention just to stepping in the right place with the right speed, constantly checking his gauges and monitor lights, responding to incessant chatter through his suit radio.

It was crowded as everyone suited up and checked connections. Tomkins pushed away an elbow that bumped against his side. He was amazed at the chaos in which Clancy’s engineers worked together, packed in and moving with a dizzying choreography, but somehow they all suited up faster than any of Tomkins’s Clavius Base personnel did.

In the prep room, McLaris moved to him and groped for his hand, pulling off his thick glove for a firm handshake. “Dr. Tomkins.”

McLaris searched Tomkins’s eyes; he seemed at a loss for words, frightened. He had shaved off his patchy beard, and one of the other assistants had helped him trim his hair so that he would be a presentable ambassador to Orbitech 1. His gray eyes looked wide and glittering.

Tomkins returned McLaris’s grip, clasping the smaller man’s hand in what he thought was a warm and paternal gesture. “Three days from now you’ll be there, Duncan.”

McLaris set his mouth. “I know.”

“Who am I going to get to run this place? You’re always welcome back. You know that.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that. This place has become my home—I feel useful here. I’ll miss it.”

Tomkins laughed. “And I’ll miss you. I’ve gotten more research done in the past few weeks than in the first three years I’ve been up here. You’ve got a gift for administration, Duncan.”

“Some skills are more useful than others, but not all the time.” McLaris pressed his lips together, letting the uneasiness show again.

Tomkins squeezed his shoulder and stepped back. “The yo-yo will work just fine, if our Mr. Clancy says so—Dr. Clancy, I mean.” He laughed. “You’ll be safe.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” McLaris mumbled.

“I know.” McLaris had his own ghosts to chase, and until he confronted them, Tomkins knew that no words would put the man at ease.

Standing a full head taller than most of the people in the prep room, Tomkins searched the crowd with ease. Clancy stood trapped in a corner, surrounded by eight members of his construction crew, all of whom insisted on checking his suit seals to make sure he would be safe. Glued to his side was his deputy, Wiay Shen.

Shen had done fine emergency work hauling him back to the base after his fall. Clancy seemed almost disappointed that he had sustained no greater injury than a minor concussion, which was what had knocked him unconscious. Shen still took every opportunity to mother him. Since the accident, everyone else on Clavius Base had noticed how inseparable the two were.

Tomkins made his way to them, flexing his arms in the tight suit. Few of the standard-issue garments fit his tall frame, and he was unaccustomed to the restricted movements. He held his helmet in his hands, ready to seal it into its collar.

Shen and Clancy turned away from the rest of the crowd. Clancy flailed his arms to get the crew away from him. “All right, already! I know how to put on my own blasted suit!”

Shen added her own admonishment. “Didn’t you guys ever hear the one about too many cooks spoiling the microwave dinner? Or whatever it was …” Regardless, she took a moment to check all of Clancy’s connections herself.

“You take care of yourself,” Clancy told her in a quiet voice.

“Look who’s talking, hotshot.” Shen ran a hand up and down his side. Her glove made a crinkling sound against his suit. “You sure you’re going to be up to this trip? There’s no one to get you out of a jam if something happens.”