Infinity Beach - Jack McDevitt [17]
They had talked about the disappearance before, years ago. And it was unlikely that Shep could have fed her fresh information. Yet framing questions for Emily helped her think.
“I’ve agreed to go up to the Severin Valley with Solly.”
“Why?”
“To look for whatever you brought back from wherever you were.”
“Well, I hope Solly’s good company. Because other than that, you’ll be in for a long trip.” She tilted her head. “It’s cool out here.”
Kim felt only the warmth of the living room. “I miss you, Emily. I wish you’d come back.”
“I know—I’m sorry. I wish there were a way to do it all again. And have it come out differently.”
3
When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with such applause in the lecture room,
How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick;
Till rising and gliding out, I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.
—WALT WHITMAN, Leaves of Grass, 1865, C.E.
The Germane Society held its monthly luncheon on the first Saturday of the month, at the Pioneer Hotel in downtown Seabright. They sponsored exceptional students for extended education grants, provided emotional support for those who had begun their final decline, and underwrote the Midwinter Carnival. They also tried, each month, to reward someone for outstanding service.
On the day that Kim attended, the award was presented to a nineteen-year-old woman who’d rescued her mountain climber buddy from falling to his death. Watching the presentation, Kim was impressed by the woman’s exploit, which had required her to hold on to him for almost ten minutes while he dangled from the lip of a deep gorge.
The thought of cliff-hanging heroics chilled Kim, who doubted she could imitate the feat. Still, the young woman was nervous in front of the audience. She hung her head and mumbled her acceptance, and Kim took a degree of perverse satisfaction in that. We all have our demons.
They read the minutes from the last meeting, took some motions, heard the results of the annual midwinter tree sale. And then it was her turn.
The emcee read her bio from the printed card she’d given him. It identified her as an astrophysicist with a specialty in galactic evolution. During the business portion of the luncheon someone had argued that they needed to think big about a proposal to expand membership, and the emcee couldn’t resist inserting a lame joke that someone who thought about galaxy construction was just the person they needed. She rose to polite applause.
They were a good audience. She had an advantage at these affairs because everybody expected to be bored silly by an astrophysicist. She’d learned long ago that the correct way to begin with a group was to violate the old adage about starting with a gag. Her aim was to win them over and she always did that by recognizing the work performed by her listeners and glamorizing it where she could. When she spoke to librarians she described them as the guardians of civilization. Teachers were the first line of defense. For service groups, like the Germane Society, she offered a similar tack.
She started by congratulating the young mountain climber on her courage. “People these days are inclined to tell us we’re all going downhill,” she said. “But I have to tell you, as long as we have people like Amy here, we’ll be all right.” The woman blushed prettily. “If I could be certain that, in a hundred years, the Germane Society will still be here, still recognizing the heroes among us, and still providing help where needed, then I’d have no qualms about the future of the Republic.”
Now of course she had them.
She compared their goals with those of the Institute, stretching the facts a little, because the Institute didn’t go out of its way to help anybody, not directly at least. But that was okay. People did profit in the long run from scientific advance. And if the forward movement was slower than it used to be, that was all right too. Her listeners were concerned