Polaris Read Free Page B

the system, Rondo,” said Jack.
    Damn. He disliked complications. He waited another few minutes, but the lamp remained steadily, defiantly, unchanged.
    White.
    He hated problems. Absolutely hated them. There was always a big hassle, and it usually turned out that somebody had fallen asleep. Or hadn’t thrown a switch. Reluctantly, he informed operations.
    â€œ Polaris twenty-five minutes after scheduled jump. Unaccounted for.”
    Rondo’s supervisor, Charlie Wetherall, showed up a few minutes later. Then one of the techs, who’d heard what was happening. The tech ran tests, and said the problem was at the other end. At forty-five minutes, the first journalists arrived. Heard something was happening. What’s wrong?
    Rondo kept quiet and let Charlie do the talking. “These things happen,” Charlie said. “Communications breakdowns.” Sure they do.
    What Rondo couldn’t figure was why they hadn’t heard from Maddy if she’d been unable to jump.
    â€œBusted link,” said Charlie, helpfully, using his expression to suggest that Rondo not say anything alarming to the journalists. Or to anyone at all.
    â€œThen you don’t think they’re in trouble?” one of them asked. Her name was Shalia Something-or-other. She was a dark-skinned woman who’d sulked for weeks because they hadn’t made room for her on the mission.
    â€œHell, Shalia,” said Charlie, “for the moment we just have to wait until we have more information. But no, there’s nothing to be worried about.”
    He ushered the journalists into a conference room and found someone to stay with them, talk to them, keep them happy. He promised to let them know as soon as the station heard from the Polaris.
    Charlie was small and round. He had a short temper when people made mistakes that impacted on him, and he was obviously thinking that Maddy had screwed up somehow, and he was getting irritated with her.Better with her, Rondo thought, than with me. Back in the comm center, they replayed the Polaris transmission. It was audio only. “Coming home, Rondo. Departure imminent. Polaris out.”
    â€œDoesn’t tell us much,” said Charlie. “What’s imminent mean?”
    â€œNot an hour.”
    â€œOkay. I’m going to check with upstairs. Stand by.”
    Ten minutes later he was back with the station’s director of operations. By then there was a crowd, and the journalists, who had broken out of their holding cell, were back. The director promised to make a statement as soon as he had something, and assured everyone it was just a technical glitch.
    They played Maddy’s transmission over and over. The director confessed he had no idea what the situation might be and asked Charlie whether anything like this had happened before. It had not.
    â€œGive it another hour,” the director said. “If nothing changes by”—he consulted the time—“by five, we’ll send somebody in. Can we turn one of the other two ships around?”
    Charlie consulted his display. “Negative,” he said. “Neither has enough fuel to make a U-turn.”
    â€œWho else is out there?”
    â€œNobody who’s close.”
    â€œOkay. Who’s not close?”
    Rondo tapped the screen to show his boss. “Looks like Miguel,” said Charlie.
    Miguel Alvarez was the captain of the Rikard Peronovski. Carrying supplies to Makumba and running some sort of AI tests.
    â€œHow long’ll it take him to get there?”
    While Charlie watched, Rondo ran the numbers. “Four days after he reorients and is able to jump. Add time for the request to reach him, and for maneuvering at Delta Kay, figure a week. No less than that.”
    â€œOkay. If we don’t hear by five, tell him to go find the Polaris. Tell him to expedite.” The director shook his head. “It’s a bitch. Whatever we do here, we’re going to have