The Long Sunset Read online

  “Major scientists—Stephen Hawking, Marie Bradford, Eliot Thomas, Karl Unterkoefler—have been warning us for two and a half centuries about other places, about what might lie beyond the solar system. We may feel safe because we’ve been to a handful of worlds and so far encountered nothing resembling a threat. But there are countless worlds of which we know nothing. It’s time we got smart. Time we listened. Time we decide to stay away from unknown places.

  “Therefore, I have signed the Centauri Initiative. We will be submitting it to the World Council. If passed, it will require authorization by a special commission for travel to any star not previously visited and cataloged.

  “Let me be clear. This is a vital matter. Once we reveal ourselves to an advanced, and potentially hostile, civilization, it will be too late to make adjustments. We have an opportunity now to step in, to safeguard the future. We do not wish to let it slip away.” The laser gaze softened. “Thank you. And God bless the North American Union.”

  Twenty minutes later Hutch watched herself admitting that aliens couldn’t follow her home “as far as we know.”

  The Mark Farmer Show

  Friday, February 15, 2256

  FARMER: Our guest this evening is Professor Teri Shaw, chairperson of the physics department at Oxford University. Teri has written numerous books on space exploration and on various aspects of interstellar life. Her latest is At Home in the Milky Way. Teri, welcome.

  SHAW: Nice to be here, Mark.

  FARMER: Well, I can’t imagine who’d be better equipped to deal with some of these issues. Let’s start with the question that’s on everyone’s mind. Are we looking at a spacefaring civilization out there? Near Calliope?

  SHAW: It’s impossible to say with the information we have, Mark. It certainly appears as if we are. But keep in mind, that signal passed through the Calliope area seven thousand years ago. It may not even have originated there. If there’s anybody there, they might have gotten the same surprise we did and tried to track down its source. But, sure, that was probably where the transmission originated. We’re inclined to assume they would have kept evolving. If human history teaches us anything, though, it’s that no civilization, no culture, ever manages to improve over an indefinite time period.

  FARMER: Is it a good idea to go out there? And maybe reveal ourselves to whoever’s there?

  SHAW: Mark, I’ll let you know after we see how things turn out.

  FARMER: What would you recommend we do?

  SHAW: Exactly what we are doing. Take a look. Find out what’s going on. My gut tells me it’s nothing. It’ll turn out to have been a reflection or something. But we’re going to find out, one way or the other. Let’s just hope we’re careful.

  FARMER: But suppose they are hostile? And they have the technology to follow the Eiferman back here?

  SHAW: That seems unlikely. Let’s go get some answers. I was happy to see they put Hutchins on board to run things. Obviously, that’s good news. If anybody can make the mission work and bring them home safely without being followed, she’s the one.

  5.

  A brother may not be a friend, but a friend will always be a brother.

  —Benjamin Franklin, Poor Richard’s Almanac, 1752

  Derek left a message: Her copilot would be Hugh Walcott. She knew him but had never been on a mission with him. He had a good reputation, and he’d been on the Eiferman a few months before for a short flight. And of course Blanchard was going. Three others would complete the team. She had no connection with any of them, who were identified as an MD, a technician, and a historian. The historian was Ken Squires, who’d written several bestsellers. So he was on board for obvious reasons.

  Maureen was teaching at Westside High School, which stood atop a hill overlooking the Potomac. Hutch had been there before as a guest speaker at a dinner for a retiring teacher who’d served as a technician on the Union Space Station. And she’d handed out diplomas at a graduation ceremony. But on this occasion there was a painful dimension to the experience. Tor would have loved to see the young woman his daughter had become. He’d missed so much.

  Hutch was scheduled to talk with Maureen’s first-, second-, and fourth-period classes. She came early, arriving as the students headed toward their homerooms.

  She went into the front office and signed in. A staff member escorted her to her daughter’s room. She arrived just as the students were settling in to their seats. Some of them looked from her to Maureen, apparently trying to decide who was their teacher. Hutch’s antiaging treatment had remarkable effects. She would have admitted it to no one, but she loved seeing the confusion. “See?” one of the girls said. “I told you so.”

  Her daughter gave her a big smile. “Hi, Mom.” She came over and they embraced.

  Then Maureen turned to the class. “Boys and girls, I’d like to introduce you to one of the great women of the space age, Priscilla Hutchins. My mother. She’ll be explaining to us why space travel is so much fun.”

  One of the boys said, “Hello, Hutch.” That brought a round of laughs.

  It was an American history class, so she talked about the space program, how it had begun as a competition between two major powers near the beginning of the Cold War. “The United States made it to the moon, primarily as a political gesture. Then, when the Cold War ended two decades later, both sides discovered that manned flight was too expensive and, as far as the political leaders were concerned, it had no point.”

  She’d brought some visuals, pictures of distant stars and worlds, of interstellars entering orbit, and of ruins from dead civilizations. And of course she had images of monuments left across the Orion Arm by an alien race that had been driven to make an artistic imprint. Those got more attention than any other aspect of the presentation. The species was famous and the students knew they’d lost everything, had devolved into primitives who now had no idea who their ancestors had been.

  During their last few minutes the students asked her to describe what it was like to ride in an interstellar and to walk on another planet. And about this mission that she was going to lead; what did she think they would find?

  At this point a boy near the front of the room waved his hand. “Ms. Hutchins,” he said, “do you think maybe you should not do this?”

  “You think because it’s dangerous?”

  “Yes. They’re saying that you might get us all killed.”

  A small blond girl a couple of desks away turned toward him. “Oh, shut up, Roger.”

  “He’s got it right,” said a girl in back.

  It would have devolved into a loud argument except that Maureen stepped in. “Ms. Hutchins has heard the debate. Mom, you want to respond?”

  “Roger has a point,” Hutch said. “But there’s always a risk when we try something new. Where would we be now if Columbus had decided that looking for a shortcut to the Far East was too dangerous? If he’d never come to Americas?”

  “I bet,” said the girl in back, “that the Native Americans would be happy.”

  • • •

  When the class ended and the students were on their way to the next period, Maureen told her she was still pure gold. “But they may be right,” she said. “Don’t you think we’d all be better off if you stayed home?” Her eyes acquired an appealing look. “Please, Mom.” Then the kids for the second-period class were filing in.

  It went much the same way, except that the issue of public safety surfaced more quickly and the kids got louder. There were a few tears, and they didn’t buy Hutch’s argument that safety was simply not an issue. “It’s political,” Hutch said.

  When they’d finished, she got moderate applause. Several of the children gathered around her, looking angry and upset. “Please, Ms. Hutchins,” said a boy who looked particularly rattled. “Don’t go. Don’t help them.”

  They filed out, and Maureen apologized. “I should have seen this coming,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

  “You really think I shouldn’t go?”


  Maureen’s eyes almost closed. She nodded. “Yeah.”

  Another teacher entered the room and came over to speak with Maureen. She listened, said thanks, and came back to Hutch. “Mom, do you know where the faculty room is?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Okay. I’d go with you, but I have another class.” She collared a student. “George, would you take Ms. Hutchins to the teachers’ lounge?”

  “Sure,” he said, and smiled at Hutch.

  “You have a visitor, Mom. And don’t forget to come back here for fourth period, okay? You won’t duck, will you?”

  “I’ll be here. Who’s the visitor?”

  “I don’t know. But I gotta get set up. He’s waiting for you in the lounge.”

  • • •

  The visitor was Gregory MacAllister, an old friend and a prize-winning journalist. There were only two other people in the room when she arrived, and they were just leaving. Mac showed her that familiar all’s-well-with-the-world smile, got out of his chair, and held his arms out for her.

  “Mac,” she said, “what are you doing here?”

  The smile widened. “Once I heard that you’d be here, I couldn’t stay away.” MacAllister was probably as influential as any journalist on the planet.

  “Why’d you stay out here? You could have come into the classroom.”

  “I’m a little too big for the furniture. I assume you’ve had lunch?”

  “It’s a little early yet.”

  “How about we go for a drink?”

  “I can’t, Mac. I have another class to do.”

  “Well, okay. That limits our options. I’ve been meaning to call you.”

  “Running out of stuff to write about?”

  “I wouldn’t put it exactly that way. You’ve become the story of the week.”

  “It’ll go away pretty quickly.” A half-empty cup of coffee waited on a side table where MacAllister had been sitting. A basket holding a few muffins and buns rested on a counter beside a refrigerator. He reclaimed his seat. Hutch refilled his cup and got fresh coffee for herself. “It’s good to see you again, Mac.”

  “You too, Hutch. We should get together once in a while.”

  “Sounds like a good idea if we could get the timing better.”

  “I know.” MacAllister, when he wanted to, was able to make her feel that, no matter what was going on in the world, everything was okay. There was nothing to worry about. He was a big man in every sense of the word. He took up a lot of physical space. And he was an intellectual heavyweight. When he entered a room, everyone came to attention. Mac was an international figure, an editor and commentator whose connection with Hutch stretched back to when they were stranded together on Deepsix. “I wanted to talk with you about the Calliope flight.”

  “Well, that’s a surprise.”

  “All right. Look, I know you too well to try to talk you out of doing it. In fact, I think you’re precisely the right person for this idiot mission. And I don’t mean that as an insult.”

  “Of course not.”

  “No, I mean that if anybody can make it turn out well, you’re the person. And it’s very likely a smart career move for you. If things go the way we hope they will, if you get there and discover intelligent squirrels or something cruising around in rockets, it’ll provide another boost to the space program, which I know is what you live for. And you’ll come home on top of the world. So, really, the only reason I’m here is to wish you luck. I hope everything goes according to plan.”

  “So why do you want me to pass on this?”

  He got up and walked over to the muffins. “You want one?”

  “No, thanks.”

  He picked one up and took a bite. “Hutch, you’ve become one of my favorite people. I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you. And this business just feels unsafe. And not only for you but for the whole planet. Look, I know you’ll go out there and probably nothing bad will happen. But you might light the fire again, and if you do, somewhere down the road—” He shook his head.

  They sat for a minute, staring at each other. “I’ve only said this to one other woman in my life, Hutch: I love you. I would not want to see you become known to history as a primal figure in a global catastrophe.”

  • • •

  On the way home, she got a call from Derek. “Priscilla, the director’s flying into DC tomorrow. He wants to talk to us. Eleven a.m. at the Truman Building. I’m not sure what this is about, but I assume it’ll have something to do with the Centauri Initiative. You want me to have someone pick you up?”

  SCIENCE DESK

  Tuesday, February 19, 2256

  QURAQUA READY FOR COLONIZATION

  KOSMIK CEO Marie Dubois Announces Terraforming Complete

  Millions Around the Globe Apply

  SIX CARRIERS WILL BEGIN MOVING SETTLERS IN MAY

  Supply Stockpiles Already in Place at Quraqua

  UN PROMISES FUNDING FOR MORE CARRIERS

  COMMUNICATION IMPLANTS LOSING

  POPULARITY IN NAU

  Doctors for Common Sense: “I’d Rather

  Carry a Commlink”

  STUDY REVEALS DISADVANTAGES OF

  EXTENDED LIFESPANS

  With Passing Years We Become Progressively

  Wedded to Opinions

  Research Suggests Exercises Designed to Maintain Mental Flexibility

  Population Issues Grow

  TIME TRAVEL EXPERIMENTS PROVIDE NO SURPRISES

  Some Particles Can Be Sent “Down Time,”

  but Not People

  BREAKTHROUGH IMMINENT IN CLIMATE CONTROL

  Techniques Acquired from Terraforming Show Terrestrial Applications

  Research: Polar Ice Caps May Be Restored by 2400

  ALVIN CARMICHAEL DEAD AFTER FALL

  FROM ROOFTOP

  “What’s the Point of Being Alive,” He Famously Asked, “if You’re a Tree?”

  ASTRONOMERS MAY HAVE FOUND THE EDGE OF THE UNIVERSE

  Same Star Cluster Believed Sighted on Both

  Sides of Sky

  SCIENTIFIC GROUP DEMANDS CANCELLATION OF CALLIOPE MISSION

  Unterkoefler Says Operation Invites Disaster

  “Even if They Come Home Safely, We Are Setting a Precedent. Eventually, This Type of Operation Will Wake a Sleeping Dragon and Get Us All Killed.”

  WSA COMMISSIONS LOCARNO UNITS FOR

  THREE INTERSTELLARS

  Eiferman Only Vehicle Currently Available That Can Reach Calliope

  Move Intensifies Debate over Deep-Space Exploration

  6.

  The happiest moments of my life have been the few which I have passed at home in the bosom of my family.

  —Thomas Jefferson, Letters, 1790

  The Truman Building is located in Foggy Bottom, just north of the National Academy of Sciences in DC. For more than a century it had housed the State Department. Now, of course, it provides accommodations for the NAU branch of the World Space Authority. Hutch found an escort waiting. She was taken to the second floor and shown into an office, where a staff member asked her to be seated, and informed her that the director would be with her shortly. He arrived a few minutes later, accompanied by Derek.

  The World Space Authority, during that difficult period, was being run by Zhang Chao. Zhang had a long background in government. He’d started as a prosecutor in the Chinese Department of Justice, served in President Kai’s administration as secretary of commercial affairs, and had been an advisor during Li Guying’s successful presidential campaign in 2251. Zhang gave her a brief smile and led the way into his office. He took his place behind the desk and waited while they seated themselves in two armchairs. The walls were covered with photos of interstellars, planetary rings, starship crews, and political leaders around the world. One depicted Emma Proctor and Zhang sharing a lectern in a crowded hall.

  He was small, gray, with a receding hairline. Hutch’s first impression was that he could easily have been lost in a crowd, except that he w
as capable of projecting not only a substantial level of authority but also a sense that, whatever the issue might be, he had the correct perspective. “Priscilla,” he said, “I’m pleased to meet you.” His accent had a slightly British flavor. “I assume you know Derek.”

  “Yes, Director Zhang, I do.”

  “Excellent. Then let’s get to business.”

  Derek delivered a slightly uncomfortable smile but said nothing.

  Zhang glanced toward one of the two windows, momentarily distracted as something fluttered past. “I’ve been intrigued by your career, Priscilla. To be honest, I’ve wanted to meet you ever since I heard about your connection to the omega clouds. You’ve performed at a remarkable level. I could not have been happier when Derek informed me that you would be serving as the pilot for the Calliope mission.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “The reason I asked you to come in here today is that, as you are aware, there is currently a rising concern about interstellar activity. I have encouraged Derek to try to hasten preparations for the launch of the Eiferman. But I must reluctantly inform you that there is a very good chance the mission will not happen. I’m sorry to tell you this, but I don’t want you to be disappointed. If the project is cancelled, we will pay you twenty percent of the promised amount to compensate for your time and whatever efforts you’ve already put into the operation.”

  “That’s very kind of you, Director Zhang, but if there is a cancellation, we can let it go. The effort has cost me nothing.”

  His smile suggested the matter was of no real consequence. “We can debate the matter if and when it becomes an issue.” He leaned back in his chair and joined his hands together. “Would you like some tea or coffee?”

  Derek let her see that she should accept. “Tea would be good,” Hutch said.

  “Coffee for me, thank you,” said Derek.