She frowned as she dressed for another day of work. Then why is Lars out there, prospecting? He knows the odds as well as anyone does. And why hasn’t he sent any messages to me? He warned me that he wouldn’t, but I thought that after a few days he’d at least tell me he’s all right.
The answer was clear to her, but she didn’t want to believe it. He’s not prospecting. He’s out there on some insane kind of mission to get even with Martin. He wants to fight back—one man against the most powerful corporation in the solar system. He’ll get himself killed, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
That was what hurt her the most, that feeling of utter impotence, the knowledge that there was no way she could protect, or even help, the man she loved. He’s gone away from me, she realized. Not merely physically; Lars has moved away from me, away from our marriage, away from our relationship. He’s let his anger override our love. He’s after vengeance now, no matter what it costs.
Fighting back the tears in her eyes, she booted up her computer and took up where she’d left off the previous night, searching for people willing to work in the warehouse. In her desperation she had even sent a call to Pancho, back Earthside. Now, as the wallscreen sprang to life, she saw that Pancho had replied.
“Show Pancho Lane’s message,” she commanded the computer.
Pancho’s angular, mocha-skinned face grinned at her. She appeared to be in an office somewhere in the tropics. Probably Astro’s corporate headquarters in Venezuela.
“Got your sad story, Mandy. I can ‘preciate how tough it is to get reliable people to work in your warehouse. Wish I could ship you a couple of my folks, but nobody with a decent job here is gonna go peacefully out to Ceres unless they got asteroid fever and think they’re gonna become zillionaires in six weeks.”
Hunching closer to the camera, Pancho went on, “Lemme warn you about one thing, though: some of the people who might agree to work for you could be HSS plants. Screen ever’body real careful, kid. There’s skunks in the woodworks, I bet.”
Amanda shook her head wearily. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about, she thought.
Pancho leaned back again and said, “I’m off to Lawrence, Kansas. Got a meeting with an international consortium of universities to work out a deal to build a research station in Jupiter orbit. Might be some college kids looking for jobs. Lord knows there’s enough unemployment around. I’ll see what I can find for you. In the meantime, watch your butt. That ol’ Humper still wants to take over Astro, and you’n’Lars are standing in his way.”
With a cheerful wave, Pancho signed off. Amanda felt like crawling back into bed and staying there until Lars returned.
If he returned at all.
How long should I search? Fuchs asked himself. It’s been three days now, and no sign of George. No sign of anything.
He had known, intellectually, that the Belt was almost entirely empty space. Even in his freshman astronomy course he remembered it being compared to a big, empty theater that contained only a few specks of dust floating in its vast volume. Now he felt the reality of it. Staring out the windows in the bridge of Starpower, studying the screens that displayed the radar scans and telescopic views, he saw that there was nothing out there, nothing but empty space, darkness and eternal silence.
He thought of how Columbus’s crew must have felt, alone out in the middle of the Atlantic without even a bird in sight; nothing but empty sea and emptier sky.
Then the comm unit chirped.
Fuchs was startled by the unexpected noise. He turned in the command chair and saw that the communications display showed an incoming message had been received on the optical comm system.
An optical signal? Puzzled, he commanded the comm computer to display the message.
The screen flashed into a harsh jumble of colors while the speakers rasped with hisses and squeaks. Only random noise, Fuchs thought. Probably a solar flare or a gamma burster.