Infinity Beach - Jack McDevitt [47]
“That was pretty good, Kim,” he said when they were alone. “But I know you don’t really believe it.”
“What don’t I believe?” she asked coolly.
“That we won’t stop at the water’s edge? That we don’t like limits.” His voice suggested it was a naive notion.
Kim was by no means above stretching the truth in a fund-raiser. But she truly believed that curiosity and the pursuit of knowledge were basic to the human character. “Do you?” she asked.
“Do I what?”
“Accept limitations?”
“It’s a different matter.”
“Why?”
“That’s me. You were talking about the species.”
“We’re all wired pretty much the same, Ben. When you’re willing to lock in the status quo and kick back on your front porch, let me know. I’d like to be there.“
“That’s a debater’s trick, turning the question back on me. But it’s time to face the truth, Kim. We’re past our peak. This business here,” he glanced around, taking in the entire banquet room, “is sad. The interstellars are coming home. I don’t like it; it’s not good for business. But it’s the reality. We’re retreating to the Nine Worlds and the big ships are going into mothballs. I wouldn’t say this anywhere else, and if you repeat it I’ll deny it, but the dream you’re talking about was dead before you were born. It’s just that the corpse is still warm.”
“If you’re right,” said Kim, “we have no future. But I’m not ready to fold my cards yet.”
“Good for you.” There was a chill in his voice. “But you’re refusing to look at the facts. Greenway and the other worlds are settling in for the long haul. Nobody’s really going anywhere anymore. Life’s too good for most people. Stay home and party. Let the machines run everything. I’ll tell you what I think about Beacon: Somebody could answer tomorrow, and unless they threatened us, nobody would give a damn.”
She was drinking a strawberry miconda. It was simultaneously cold and heat-producing. Good stuff. “You think it’s a straight downhill run.”
“Last days of the Empire,” he said. “It’s a good time to be alive, except at the very end. If you’re a hedonist. As all men are.”
“Are you, Ben?”
He considered the question. “Not exclusively,” he said at last. His gaze bored into her. “No. You wouldn’t want to mistake me for a hedonist.”
During the course of the evening, she mingled with as many of the guests as she could. She invited everyone to come by the Institute, assured them of private tours, and promised to introduce them to the team that had put Beacon together. By two A.M., when she returned to her apartment weary and more than a little light-headed, she was satisfied that she’d done well by her employer.
But she’d spent six hours on arduous duty and wasn’t quite ready to sleep.
She got a cup of hot chocolate from the dispenser, changed into pajamas, looked through the library, and picked out The Queen Under Fire, an account of the liner’s service during the war against Pacifica. She read for about a half hour and then directed the room to turn out the lights.
They dimmed and went off. A female voice asked whether she wanted anything else.
Kim thought it over and gave her instructions.
She lay back, stared into the darkness, and thought about what Tripley had said. End of the Empire. Truth was, people had probably always been saying things like that. People always believe they live in a crumbling world.
The Star Queen’s flight deck materialized around her.
“Captain, we have company.” Cyrus Klein’s voice was steady.
The situation flashed onscreen. Eight blips moving toward them, intercept course, off the port quarter.
Kim settled into the command chair. “Can you identify them, Mr. Klein?”
“Just a moment, Captain.” His eyes narrowed as he waited for the returns to clear.
“Assume the worst,” she said. “Ahead full. Collision stations. Shields up. Where’s our escort?”
8
Truth is like nudity: It is on occasion indispensable, but it is dangerous and should not be displayed openly. It is truth that