Infinity Beach - Jack McDevitt [56]
Cray Elliott, a public relations specialist who was a junior member of the team, nodded and wrote it all down. Kim showed her disquiet. “We are forever trying to sell science because somebody somewhere will get a better toothbrush,” she grumbled. “Whatever happened to sheer curiosity?”
“You have to be practical,” Cray said. He was bright, ebullient, cheerful. She really didn’t want to have to deal with cheerful.
Nevertheless it was all there if one wanted to look: long-range star travel was rendered more efficient, the cells that provided fuel to heating and lighting systems for entire cities would increase their capacity, and safety would be enhanced.
“But,” said Kim, “star travel is being cut back everywhere, we’ve already got more power than we can possibly use, and there hasn’t been any kind of accident, that I know of, involving fuel cells. Ever.” Other than Mount Hope, probably.
“It doesn’t matter,” Matt said. “Those are just details. Nobody notices details”
Maybe he was right. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d stretched things a bit. Two years before, the Institute had not challenged rumors that a breakthrough in antigravity was imminent, even though no such thing was in the works, and in fact every physicist that Kim knew of thought antigravity an impossibility. The story retained credence because people believed that if you could induce artificial gravity, you could surely nullify its effects. But it was a different matter altogether. One didn’t need to bend time and space, but only to establish magnetic fields, to create the condition that allowed people to walk about in starships.
Kim thought that the public relations division might even have started the rumor. When she’d mentioned it to Matt, he had piously denied everything. Piety was always how you knew Matt was lying.
Now she listened to his instructions and wondered why she didn’t just walk out. The money was good, the Institute was a decent cause, and the truth was she got a lot of satisfaction simply from the fact that she was so talented at what she did. But as long as she stayed here, the career she’d wanted, dreamed about, prepared for, would not happen.
She recalled the defensiveness with which she’d told Sheyel what she was doing. “It’s not the field I’d have chosen.”
And he’d been embarrassed for her. “One never knows how things will turn out.”
It was always like that. She was among those who never went to reunions.
Back in her office she found a communication from Shepard. “There’s a response to your message to St. Johns,” he said.
“Onscreen, please, Shep.”
“Yes, Kim. Please note I have adjusted all dates to Greenway Central Time.”
FROM: Chief, Records Branch
TO: Dr. Kimberly Brandywine
DATE: Monday, January 15, 600
SUBJECT: HUNTER Right Plan
Per your request, following information is provided re: EIV4471886 Hunter flight plan, filed February 11, 573.
Depart St. Johns Feb 12, 573 0358.
Arrive QCY4149187 April 17, 573, to begin general survey Golden Pitcher.
Projected departure from Golden Pitcher was to have been reported when known, but was expected at approximately June 1, 574.
J. B. Stanley
Records Chief
The entire mission was to have lasted fifteen months. Kim pressed Solly’s key.
“Hi, Kim.” His image brightened the screen. “How’d the meeting go?”
“As usual. Got a question for you.”
“Go ahead.”
“I should have asked this before: When the Hunter left St. Johns, would they have inspected the jump engines?”
“You mean the station?”
“Yes.”
“Only if asked. The engines should have been looked at by the Foundation’s own people before leaving Sky Harbor. If you’re asking me whether a breakdown is likely early in a voyage that was going way out into the deeps, I’d think not. But it happened. And to be honest, jump engines take a beating. It doesn’t take much of an oversight to cause a problem.