The getaway special Read online

  The Moon was larger still by the time Judy stepped out into the cargo bay. She had cut the suiting-up time to its bare minimum, but it still took time breathing pure oxygen to wash the nitrogen out of her bloodstream, and even Gerry with his pistol couldn't force her to go outside before she was sure she was safe from the bends. Once she was out she took time for one quick look—she could see their motion now, the cratered surface growing inexorably closer by the minute—then she unfastened the

  "mystery" canister and climbed back into the airlock with it under her arm. When she got back inside she handed it to Allen and started to pull off her helmet.

  "Leave it on," Gerry said. Judy could hear the tension in his voice even through the intercom. She understood the reason for it, and for his order. She wouldn't have time to become uncomfortable in the suit. If Allen found the problem she would have to take the canister back outside, and if he didn't they would crash into the Moon; either way she wouldn't have to worry about the suit for very long. Allen floated over to the wall of lockers in the mid-deck and opened the one holding the tool kit. Then he opened the canister and held it so the light shone down inside. Judy looked over his shoulder and saw a maze of wires and circuit boards. Allen looked at them for a minute, then reached in and pushed a few wires around. He let go of the canister and left it floating in front of him, looked up, and said, "I think I've found it. Judy, could you help hold this a minute?" She nodded and reached out to take it from him.

  "Here, over on this side," he said, pulling her around so she was on his left. Gerry floated to his right with the gun at the ready. Carl was still unconscious in his bunk beside Judy; evidently Gerry had given him a sedative when he had the chance.

  Allen handed the canister to Judy, positioning her like a piece of lab equipment until she held it at the right angle, then he pulled a screwdriver out of the tool kit, reached into the canister's open end with it, and looked sideways at Gerry.

  "I've just taken over the ship," he said. "Now float that gun over here, very gently." Gerry didn't look amused. "What are you talking about? Get busy and fix that before I—"

  "Before you what? I give you ten seconds to surrender or I take this screwdriver and stir. Shoot me before I make the repairs and you get the same result. Maybe they'll name the crater after you." Gerry shifted the gun to point at Judy. She felt her breath catch, but Allen shifted his head to be the target again. "Won't work. You can't risk hitting me and you know it. Float the gun over. Five seconds." Allen slowly threaded the screwdriver in between the wires until his hand was inside the canister, saying all the while, "Four seconds, three seconds, two seconds, one—very good, Gerry. Judy, catch that." She let go of the canister and fielded the gun, sandwiching it between her gloved hands, but she couldn't get her finger in the trigger guard. Her heart pounding, she said, "Allen. . ." He saw the problem. "Trade me," he said, letting go of the canister and taking the gun from her.

  "Get in the bottom bunk, Gerry."

  Wordlessly, Gerry drifted over and slid into the bunk. Allen closed the panel after him, then hunted in the tool kit until he found a coil of what looked like bell wire and used that to tie the panel shut. Then he gave the gun back to Judy and began looking inside the canister again, poking and prodding around.

  "What are you doing?" Judy asked.

  "Looking for the problem."

  "I thought you said you'd found it."

  "I lied. I didn't figure there was much point in looking until we had Gerry safely out of the way."

  "But what if—never mind. Just hurry. We don't have much time."

  "It won't take long. If it isn't something simple I won't be able to fix it anyway. I don't have any test equipment. All I brought along were spare parts."

  Judy propped herself against the lockers, her back against the wall and her feet out at an angle against the floor. She'd discovered the position on her first flight. It almost felt like gravity, at least to the legs, and it had the added advantage of holding her in place. She said, "I can't believe you. Do you have the slightest idea what this means to the human race?"

  "I think I do, yes."

  "Then why are you risking it like this? You should have made it public the moment you realized what you had. Good god, if the secret dies with us now, we—"

  "It won't. I arranged an internet mailing to every member of INSANE, triggered by the first pulse from the timing beacon. The plans should be arriving in people's email all over the world just about now." Allen raised his voice so Gerry could hear him, too. "There are thirty-seven Russians in INSANE, Gerry. They each got the email, too. So you see, none of this really would have made much difference in the long run anyway. This was just a public demonstration so they wouldn't waste time trying to decide if it would really work. I've asked everyone to put the plans on their web sites, too, so anybody can download them. I don't think any elite group should have a monopoly on space travel, not even INSANE." He paused, squinted inside the canister, and said, "I think I've found it. All those jumps in a row overheated a voltage regulator."

  He opened his personal locker and got out a baggie full of electronics parts. He fished around until he found the one he needed, a half-inch square with three legs, and replaced the one in the canister with it. He put the lid back on and held it out. "Okay, you can put it back now." Judy took the canister and pushed herself toward the airlock. Before she closed the door, she said,

  "Why don't I stay out there while you try it? It'll save time if we have to bring it in again."

  "Good idea."

  She closed the airlock door and began depressurizing it. It seemed to take forever to bleed the air out, but she knew that it only took three minutes. She could hear her own breathing inside her helmet, just the way she'd imagined she would when she was a little girl dreaming about space. The suit stiffened a little as the outside pressure dropped. When the gauge reached zero she opened the outer hatch and stepped out into the cargo bay.

  The Moon was a flat gray wall of craters in front of her. She watched it for a moment, thinking, This is what it looked like to the Apollo crews. And I thought I'd never get to see it. What sorts of other things would she be seeing that she had only dreamed of before? The other planets, almost certainly. Other stars? Why not? She knew she was going to be in trouble when she got back, but Allen's invention practically assured her that the trouble wouldn't last Space-trained pilots were going to be in very short supply before long. NASA couldn't afford to ground her now, but even if they did she knew she could get a job flying somebody else's ship. Or even her own, for that matter. Anything that would hold air would work. She wasn't above flying a pressurized septic tank, if that's what it took to stay in space.

  Judy heard a nervous voice over the intercom. "Having problems out there?" She shook herself back to the present. The Moon was drawing closer by the second. "No. Hang on." She fastened the getaway special canister back to the cargo bay wall and plugged in the data link to the ship. "How's that?"

  "I'm getting power. Let me run the diagnostic check." A few seconds later, Allen said, "Looks good. I'm keying in the coordinates."

  "You sure you don't want to stay and admire the view?"

  "Uh . . . some other time, maybe."

  "Right." Judy reached out to steady herself against the airlock door. She tilted her head back for one last look at the Moon, so near she almost felt she could touch it. Someday she would. Someday soon. She cleared her throat. "Whenever you're—"

  But it had already disappeared.

  4

  "Your hyperdrive engine," Carl said, "is the worst disaster to befall the world since the invention of the nuclear bomb." He'd finally awakened from the drugs Gerry had given him, and was hovering over Allen's shoulders in the aft crew station, glancing nervously out the overhead windows from time to time, as if the Earth might slip by without his knowledge unless he were diligent in watching for it. He was a nervous man anyway, thin and hatchet-faced. At least he looked that way on the ground. In orbit, t
he normal pooling of fluids in the upper body that came with zero-gee rounded out his features, making him look almost normal. Judy, watching him from the command chair where she'd been trying to assess the damage to the ship, wondered if that was why he liked spaceflight so much: because it improved his appearance.

  Allen stood at his control panel, his feet tucked into floor grips so he wouldn't have to hold himself down every time he pushed a button. He'd been there for nearly an hour, running diagnostics on the hyperdrive engine and using the shuttle's navigation equipment to figure out where they were before he moved them anywhere else.

  It was taking much longer than he'd expected, partially because of Carl's interference. At this latest proclamation, Allen tilted his head back, looked at Carl upside down, and said, "You know, it amazes me how a Luddite could work his way so high in the space program. If you really think a major breakthrough in spaceflight is a disaster, why aren't you back in Florida blowing up the Vehicle Assembly Building or something?"

  Carl's eyes bulged. "Luddite! I don't have to be a Luddite to see what this will do to the world economy. If you give hyperdrive engines to everyone at once, people are going to use them all at once, and when they all leave their jobs to go gallivanting around the galaxy there won't be anybody left to run the machinery. Our whole industrial society will grind to a halt." Allen laughed. "Oh come on, now. Our whole society? I'd be surprised if one person in a hundred actually goes anywhere. One in a thousand is probably a high estimate. All I've done is give the adventurous the option to get off an overcrowded planet. That doesn't seem like a recipe for disaster to me."

  "It wouldn't." Carl wiped spittle from his lips. "Look, it doesn't take a big upset to shake the world economy. Remember cold fusion back in the eighties? The stock market went berserk right after Pons and Fleischmann announced their discovery. If they hadn't been proven wrong almost immediately, we would have had a major depression. These things need to be eased into use so people can adapt to them slowly, not dumped on us without warning."

  "That's what they said when I introduced the electron plasma battery," Allen said. "Everybody was worried that it would knock out the auto industry because it was such a better power source than the internal combustion engine, but it didn't. What it did was give Detroit another chance to build something that would compete with foreign cars, and it incidentally helped clear up the air across the entire planet. The only people who were hurt were the ones with no faith in human ingenuity who bet against the auto industry in the stock market and lost."

  Carl reddened, and Judy wondered if he was one of those people. He didn't let it derail his argument, though. He dismissed it with a wave of his hand and said, "You got lucky. This time there's a lot more at stake."

  He glanced reproachfully at Judy as well. Before Allen could respond, she said, "Don't look at me that way. There's careful dissemination and there's suppression. The military wanted full suppression, and there's no way I'd go along with that."

  "You don't know what they wanted," Carl said.

  "Wanna bet?"

  Allen said, "Look, you're both missing the point. Humanity isn't some homogeneous mass that reacts like this or like that when something happens to it. It's a bunch of individual people, living individual lives. Trying to manipulate their reactions to something is ridiculous. Worse than ridiculous; it's fascist."

  "Oh, so now I'm a fascist Luddite?" Carl glanced out the windows, then back at Allen, who turned back to his computer and tapped another instruction into the program that analyzed the data from their previous jumps.

  "That's what it sounds like to me," he replied.

  Carl snorted contemptuously and reached for a handhold to pull himself closer to Allen. "Listen here, mister physicist. I'm probably a bigger proponent of freedom and technology than you are. That's why this business has me so upset; I can see what's going to happen to the space program from here on out."

  "Why should you be upset?" Allen asked.

  "Because it's going to die, that's why! People aren't going to spend money on space stations and orbiting colonies when they can zip off to Alpha Centauri on a wish and a prayer."

  "Hmmm," Allen said, scratching his chin. "I never looked at it quite that way, but even so, I really don't think—"

  "That's the problem! You really don't think. You're so hot for glory that you can't be bothered to consider—"

  "Carl."

  He glanced over at Judy, and the look in his eyes made her glad he was clear across the flight deck from her. Still, she didn't want him around Allen anymore, either.

  "I want you to inventory the consumables. We don't know how long we're going to be out here, so we need to figure out how long we can stretch it before we run out of food and air." Allen turned toward her. "Don't worry, I'll get us back before we run out of anything. I'm just about to start the calibration runs."

  "And then how long before we can get back into the right orbit for a rescue mission, and how long before they can send a rescue mission?" Judy asked him. "No, we're going to start conserving now, while it will do the most good."

  "I—"

  "Save it, Allen. Carl, go below and do the inventory."

  Carl looked as if he wanted to protest, but apparently he wasn't ready to add mutiny to the list of troubles he imagined awaiting him back on Earth. "Aye aye, Captain," he said sarcastically, but he shoved away from Allen and pulled himself headfirst through the hatchway in the floor. When he was gone, Allen said, "I meant it; the calibration shouldn't take more than another couple of hours, and once I've done that I could put us back in orbit in no time. Of course, as long as we're out here, we could just as easily do a grand tour of the planets."

  They could, couldn't they? See the whole solar system in one mission. Somewhat reluctantly, Judy said, "I don't know if that's such a good idea."

  "You too?"

  She unbuckled her seatbelt and floated closer to him. "I don't know what to think. I think Carl's overreacting, but he does have a point. We may be moving too fast here. It could be too much for people to adapt to all at once."

  "We've already demonstrated what we can do," Allen said. "The question now is whether we take advantage of it ourselves or let someone else."

  "That may be a good enough reason to slow down. Leave something for the next people to do. We don't want to look greedy." She looked at his notebook computer Velcroed to the workstation. The lettering was nearly worn off the number keys, and there was a semicircular streak on the screen where he had tried to clean it with a damp cloth. Nothing fancy about it. There were millions of computers just like it all over the world, and from what she'd seen inside the getaway special canister, the parts for the hyperdrive engine wouldn't be hard to come by, either. It wouldn't be long at all before someone else tried it.

  "How many people did you send the plans to?" she asked. "Everyone in INSANE?" Allen nodded. "There's over three hundred of us."

  There would probably have been more if the organization had a different name, Judy thought. Three hundred wasn't exactly a lot. As she thought about it, she felt the hair on the back of her neck start to tingle.

  "You realize every member of the group is going to be a target now?" she asked. Looking back to his computer, Allen said, "They will be if they don't forward the email. I mentioned that in my letter. It's a powerful incentive to share."

  "You're assuming they get the chance to share," Judy said.

  "It takes about three mouse-clicks," Allen pointed out.

  "You need unbroken fingers to click a mouse."

  He frowned. "What do you mean by—"

  "Email is hard to intercept, but snatching three hundred scientists would be a piece of cake. I'll bet every spy agency and secret police force in the world is trying to do just that. A lot of them probably have plans in place just for this sort of contingency, so their response is going to be about three mouse-clicks away, too." It seemed farfetched, but if she agreed with Carl about anything, it was that Allen's hyperdrive
was a big enough deal to rattle governments. And when governments got rattled, they usually became ruthless in trying to ensure that they wound up on top.

  Allen's eyes had gone wide. "You—no, that's impossible. You're talking about a globally coordinated kidnapping effort, timed to happen before anyone forwards the email. Once it's out on the internet, it'll spread like wildfire. Nobody can stop it."

  Judy sighed. "I don't know. Maybe I'm worried about nothing. When I first realized what we were dealing with, I was afraid we'd be killed before we could get the secret out, but now I'm starting to wonder how many people are going to be killed because of it."

  "Nobody," Allen said. "The word is spreading as we speak, and it's spreading way too fast to stop."

  "You hope."

  "I know."

  He turned back to his computer. "I'm ready to test it."

  "You've figured out where we are?" Judy squinted out the windshield at the sun. It was a tiny, bright circle against black space.

  Allen shrugged. "Close enough. We're somewhere past Jupiter's orbit. Jupiter is clear around on the other side of the Sun right now, but that's how far we are. I think." She gave him a sidelong glance. "I thought you were going to do your testing between Earth and Mars."

  He shrugged. "I thought so too, but with the Sun the size it is, we can't be there. Evidently I miscalculated."

  A shiver ran down Judy's back. What if he'd miscalculated on something more dangerous, like the diameter of the space warp his engine created, or whether people could live inside its sphere of influence? He could have killed them all the first time he pushed the "Go" button. He might kill them yet. If something else burned out in the hyperdrive, they could be stranded millions of miles from help, and even if they did manage to make it back to Earth, there was no guarantee they could achieve orbit again. And if they managed that, they still couldn't land the normal way. Not with the vertical stabilizer vaporized. Discovery would need major repairs before it could ever negotiate the atmosphere again.