“Plus I could repair the quickship if anything went wrong. No one on board had that level of mechanical expertise. It had to be me. I know you’d rather have someone who understands science as much as you do, but I’m not that person. I’m the messenger.” He paused and looked at each of the researchers in turn. “The ship is real and it’s coming. A few days, a few months, I don’t know. But it’s coming. If we could talk to the ships in the Belt, we’d have thousands of people validating my claim. But since we don’t, I recognize that it makes my story all the less believable. But ask yourself, do I look like I could orchestrate all this evidence? Do I seem like the kind of person who would invent all this for laughs? Do I seem like someone who could create vids and mountains of evidence that could withstand this level of scrutiny? I’m a free miner. We’re scraping by out there, flying by the seat of our pants, and sometimes barely putting food in front of us. I’m not looking for money. I have nothing to gain here but saving lives. If you think you can shoot holes in my story, give it your best shot. But I promise you you’ll fail. Every word I’ve said is true.”
The room was silent. Everyone watched him. Imala found Victor’s hand under the table and gave it a squeeze of encouragement. Finally Prescott leaned forward and put a hand on Victor’s shoulder. “We believe you, Victor. Some needed a little extra convincing, yes, but I think I speak for everyone when I say we’re behind you. We’ll help you as much as we can.”
Victor felt such a rush of relief that he almost broke down again. It was going to work. The word would get out. He exhaled and grinned at Prescott. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you, Victor. All of Earth owes you a debt of gratitude.”
“This isn’t going to be easy,” said Imala. “I don’t mean to dampen the mood here, but let’s not forget that the media has already dismissed this idea. We’ve already been labeled phonies in some circles. I’ve been fighting this battle for a while now and losing. If you’re with us, you need to be with us not only now, in the safety of this room, but also outside as well, where the rest of the world stands ready to mock and scorn. My career is likely over. Yours may be as well if you do this. I’m not trying to convince you to abandon us, I’m simply making sure you understand what we’re up against.”
“Your point’s well made,” said Prescott. “I can only safely speak for myself, Imala, but I assure you I’m with you.”
“Me too,” said Yanyu.
The others in the room nodded.
“Then what do we do?” asked Imala.
“Two things,” said Prescott. “We continue validating Victor’s story by searching the sky and getting all of our friends in the field doing the same. We do a full-court press on that. Secondly, and more immediately, I’ll make some calls. Getting an audience with Mr. Jukes isn’t easy. He has an army of people who resolve issues for him and deflect people like us. But considering the circumstances, I think we can break through.”
*
They didn’t break through. Not immediately anyway. They were told that Ukko Jukes was otherwise occupied and inaccessible.
“Can’t we just go to the press?” Victor asked Prescott. “With your added credibility, someone would listen.”
“While I appreciate you putting so much weight in my endorsement, the fact is, it’s not enough. There are ten people out there with the same degree of notoriety and credentials that I have who would counter me and discredit the idea. Sad but true. Some of these people are wolves. I’ve disproved a lot of their theories, and that hasn’t exactly endeared me to them. They’d all be quite happy to put a shot across my bow. If we go without Ukko, we have to be ironclad. We have to be so convincing, that the doubters are the ones who look like irrational crazies and not us. That may take time. The team is working on it, and we’re getting there, but I think Yanyu and Imala are right. Ukko is our fastest recourse. If we can get him, we’re golden.”
Hours later, long into the evening, Prescott pulled Victor and Imala aside. “The staff is staying here tonight. It doesn’t look like we’ll get word on Ukko until tomorrow. I can have someone take you to your apartment, Imala, but that might not be a good idea. I’d rather keep Victor here, and frankly it’s probably better if you stay as well. We have extra cots. They’re not terribly comfortable, but they’re yours if you want them.”
Yanyu showed Victor and Imala where two adjacent offices were being used for storage. Two cots had been set up, one in each office. Yanyu brought Imala and Victor each a pillow, blanket, emergency pack of toiletries, and a clean Juke jumpsuit. Victor found the men’s restroom down the hall, showered, then dressed in the jumpsuit. He felt like a traitor wearing it, like he was disavowing his family somehow. But the suit fit well, and it felt good to get into clean clothes.
He returned to his room and lay down on the cot. He tried to get comfortable but sleep wouldn’t come. Rehashing his experience to the observatory staff had turned his mind to home.
Nine months. Had it really been that long since he had last seen Mother and Father?
The images from Yanyu’s holopad of the destruction in the Belt weighed on him. He knew that none of the destroyed ships at Kleopatra could possibly be El Cavador—there was no way his family could have beaten the alien ship to the inner Belt. Yet the mere existence of the debris had unleashed a flood of dark possibilities in his mind. What if the alien ship had caused the same level of destruction in the Kuiper Belt? Victor’s family had been rushing to a depot to warn the people there that the hormiga ship was coming. What if the hormigas had attacked the depot just as El Cavador arrived?