Infinity Beach - Jack McDevitt [193]
“So missions will be going out to Alnitak after all—”
“They’ll be going to Zeta Tauri. That’s where the celestial incident will have occurred. It’ll be leaked, and we’ll deny it, of course. So everyone will believe it. And the missions should be quite safe there.”
“Unless I tell them differently.”
“This is what I referred to when I suggested we would want your cooperation. If you persist in going your own way, Kim, we’ll simply write you out of the scenario altogether. We have an alternate narrative set up. It does not include you, so there is no reason anyone would believe you.” He pressed his palms together. “I don’t want you to think I’m threatening you. I’m simply trying to spell out the realities. Please understand that I take no pleasure in any of this, but it’s essential that we avoid future contact with these things. You, of all people, should be able to see the wisdom of that position.”
He rapped on the door. Two women came in, carrying a container. They bundled the Valiant into it and asked Wood-bridge whether he needed anything. He did not, and they left, taking the microship with them.
“If you can see your way to cooperate, Kim, I’ll try to arrange to have you present when we dissect it.”
Her time was up. He rose and opened the door for her. “You’re a talented woman,” he said. “If you’re interested, I think the conciliar staff would have a place for you.”
Kim went back to her seat, collapsed into it, and stared desultorily out at the passing countryside. Gradually the forest changed to marsh. They slowed to negotiate a curve back toward the west and Kim saw the skyhook.
The train leaped ahead again, passed beneath a series of ridges, and raced out across a lake. The shock wave struck the water like a ship’s prow. At the water’s edge, a crocodile watched them pass.
They slowed again, settled to earth, and emerged through a patch of cypress into a wide stretch of parkland. A few kids turned away from a ball game to wave. People on benches looked up and then went back to reading or talking.
The train joined the main east-west line at Morgantown Bay and ran the short gauntlet of cliffs, sea, and islands into Terminal City. It passed slowly through the downtown area, glided into the terminal building, and settled to a stop. The doors opened.
Kim walked dejectedly out onto the platform. There was no sign of Woodbridge or his people. She picked up her bags, held out the one with the wet suit and the metal sensor, and tagged the rest for Sky Harbor. To be held till called for.
No one seemed to be watching her. She checked the timetables, noted that she had fifty-five minutes before the next departure for Eagle Point.
The train she’d just left was filling up. A bell sounded, doors closed, and it rose on its magnetics and pulled slowly out of the station. It would be heading back east.
She went to the terminal roof, hailed a cab, and told it to take her to the Beachfront Hotel. It rose into clear air, swung onto a southeastern tangent, and moved swiftly across the city.
At the Beachfront, she took an elevator down to the lobby. A cluster of shops ringed the area. She wandered into one, bought a comb, went out to the registration desk and reserved a room. Then she got back on the elevator, rode up past her floor, and went instead to the roof. Two cabs were just landing. She took one and instructed it to proceed to the train terminal.
There was still no indication of surveillance. Good. They had what they wanted, she hoped, and would not further concern themselves with her. She arrived at her destination, strolled over to an ADP, inserted her ID, and got a ticket to Eagle Point. Then she found a bench and watched a holocast talk show.
Ten minutes later her train arrived. She boarded, sat down, and lazily started browsing through the library. The doors closed and they left the station on schedule. The train cruised above the parks and residences on Terminal City’s north side. It crossed the VanderMeer Bridge to the