CHAPTER 51.
The airlock door opened, and standing in it was a slender—too slender, Nicholas thought—figure, helmet off, golden hair cascading in perfect order, as though she had just stepped out from a salon. Camera lights flickered, but the small crowd held its place as Madeline Fathom floated forward and to the side to let her husband join her. A.J. Baker popped through next, waving with childlike mania, Helen Sutter grinning tolerantly behind him. Larry Conley was next, his face narrower than it had ever been before, and then Jackie—followed by the first of the Odin crew, Horst Eberhardt, and his friend Anthony LaPointe.
And then emerged the towering presence of General Alberich Hohenheim.
A sudden, complete hush fell over the room as Hohenheim walked slowly to the nearby cameras—a hush that exploded into questions and confusion, and then quieted again as he began to speak: “I am General Alberich Hohenheim, formerly commander of the European Union vessel Odin…”
But as he spoke the rest emerged from the airlock—the white hair of Dr. Petra Masters, Brett Tamahori grinning brilliantly as he stepped into Meru, Dan Ritter, and finally Mia Svendsen.
Suddenly Nicholas found himself leaping forward, seeing surprise and then welcome on the familiar faces, even as Hohenheim continued his short, measured address. The next few moments were simply a blur—a very happy blur—of hugs and handshakes and greetings whose words were different but every one meant “welcome home.”
Slowly he became aware that cameras were still flashing, and there was clapping in the audience, as well. He wiped his face, realizing with surprise that he was crying.
It made him feel somewhat better that most of the others—even the cocky A.J. and laid-back Larry Conley—did not seem entirely dry-eyed either. “I seem to have gotten a bit carried away.”
Madeline had gotten a tissue from somewhere and was very expertly dabbing away her own tears without in any way marring her appearance. “It’s good press…and honest press, too,” she said with a smile.
He returned the smile, gazing around at his colleagues and friends. “I must confess…It was one thing to know you were safe; but after all this time, something quite different to see you all here, and alive.”
He turned to the group from Odin as Hohenheim joined them, his short initial statement finished. “General, I did not know your crew, but I personally offer my sympathies for your losses.”
General Hohenheim nodded. “I thank you.” He looked over Glendale’s shoulder,and Nicholas knew what he was seeing. “Ah. Already.”
“You had requested this, sir,” he pointed out. “I believe that there was no one—in fact, still is no one—who would insist—”
“Except, perhaps, myself. And I do insist.” General Hohenheim drifted forward, straightened himself on a handhold, and saluted the two men waiting; they returned the salute, but did not look happy.
Hohenheim smiled faintly. “Director Glendale, I was the commanding officer of Odin. What happened there was, ultimately, my responsibility, no matter what excuses others might make for me. My guilt and ultimate punishment—or, perhaps, reward for later actions—is not mine to decide, nor yours, nor that of the world which is seeing such drama. I want my name tried and cleared, or convicted, in as clear and legal a fashion as I wish to see Mr. Osterhoudt tried.”
The rest of the Odin crew—Horst, Mia, Anthony, Petra, Brett, and Dan—started to protest, then quieted. Horst moved forward. “Then at least remember to call us, sir. When the court-martial begins.”
“I assure you, Mr. Eberhardt,” General Hohenheim said, “I will not neglect my defense. I hope I can count on you all for testimony, if needed?”
Horst and the others nodded vigorously. Madeline added “And I believe I speak for all the former crew of Nebula Storm when I say that we will also happily testify on your behalf, if needed.”
“Very good, then. Do not worry on my behalf, then. I am sure we shall meet again, all of us. And even if not…”
The smile that broke across the face was startling, a boyish grin as bright as the dawn. “…even if not, my very good friends, we have shared the most amazing adventure, have we not? An adventure which would keep a man proud and strong to the end of any days, I think.”
He turned back and left with the two U.N. police, back straight, head as high as weightless movement would permit.
Nicholas watched him go, and even the crowd was quieter until the General had disappeared from sight.
“Well, Nicholas,” Madeline said, “I see we have quite a reception. I suppose they expect interviews?”
“You know they do; you helped arrange this, after all.”
“Indeed I did. But I think one of the spinning lounges would be a better setting.”
Nicholas agreed, and led them from the non-spinning central hub of Meru to the outer, spinning living area.
“Nicholas,” Helen said as they walked, “pardon my ignorance, but space construction is still a weak point with me. Meru is basically a huge tower sticking out from the Earth—why don’t we feel weight up here? I know that it falls off with distance, but…”
Nicholas nodded. “It does, and faster than you think. Given the distances you’ve travelled, I suppose being a mere forty-two thousand kilometers up is very close. But it’s still well over six times the distance from the center of the earth that you are at the surface, so even if you did feel the gravity here, you would not feel much—it’s less than one-fortieth of Earth’s.” He smiled wryly. “Space construction isn’t my strong point originally, either, but I’ve had to learn a lot of the little factoids. In any case, even if gravity were noticeable up here, we are in actual fact not on a tower, but a bulge on a string that has a big weight another forty-two thousand kilometers above us, and are effectively in orbit—and thus freefall. So,” they entered one of the larger meeting rooms of Meru, “we have to spin to sit down, just like everyone else out here.”
Nicholas again took note of the fact that his friends looked more worn, thinner than he remembered, and also that when they sat down, most of them seemed to drop into their seats. They’ve spent a long time in very low gravity, with non-ideal equipment and supplies. The doctors want them very soon, and I’m not going to argue.
The press, and a few other guests, filed in and took their seats. Nicholas stood as soon as they were all settled. “Thank you all for coming, and for your great restraint so far. I want you to know that we very much appreciate the courtesy.
“Now, before we get started, I have a few announcements. First, I reserve the right to cut this conference off at any time; many of you can probably see that the crew of Mjolnir is not at all in top shape, and as soon as this conference is over they are all going to medical for testing and rehabilitation.
“Second,” he said, now smiling at Helen, “I received official word only shortly before Mjolnir arrived: the United Nations is preparing to vote—any moment—on a resolution to declare Europa and its inhabitants a nation.”
“Oh, thank god.” Helen’s preferences had never been in doubt, and he saw the sentiment echoed on all the other faces on his side of the table.
“Of course, I rather expected this. Perhaps a more interesting part of the declaration is that Camp Europa is to be a historical site; some of the equipment will doubtless be re-used, but your landing and survival will be commemorated.”
“What about the Zarathustra and the Bemmies?” Diane Sodher asked. Nicholas decided to just let the questions start. Why not? Now that they’re back, we have time.
“I was about to get to that,” he said. “Engineers from at least a dozen countries are currently working on designs to establish a safe and flexible working environment to permit long-term contact with our alien friends. As soon as an alternative exists, Zarathustra will be removed and likely become the centerpiece of the commemorative site.”
“I thought there was considerable concern about contaminating other worlds with our own bacteria,” asked another of the news people—Hazumi Kishimura, Nicholas remembered. “Won’t this pose challenges for sending more people there?”
“That feline has completely escaped the flexible container,” A.J. replied. “We didn’t decontaminate before the crash, we were living there for months, we’ve undoubtedly dumped all kinds of our bacteria somewhere on that moon. We’ll want to be careful not to contaminate them with something dangerous if we can, but heck, I suppose there’s just as much chance they’ve got something we don’t want to catch, either.”
“Dr. Sutter, what was it like?” Diane asked. “To come face to face with the first alien species we’ve ever met?”
The room went silent, all watching Helen—who looked very uncomfortable for a moment.
Then she started to think about the question, and Nicholas could see the tension smooth away, replaced by a struggle to find the words. A few more moments went by.
Finally Helen shrugged and smiled. “What was it like?” she repeated. “I wish I could tell you. I don’t know if there are words—and I’m not Nick, I’m not someone who makes speeches often. I do lectures.” She shook her head, eyes now looking far away, back to an icy world with a black ocean beneath. “What was it like?” she said again. “It was…it was magic. It was like opening a door, your front door, a door you open every single day and step out and go to your work, like opening that door and on the other side isn’t your front yard and some steps like you’ve seen before, but a jungle where a pterodactyl soars high overhead and something taller than three houses stacked atop each other turns its head and looks down at you, curious, wondering. It was like taking a little jump, hopping over a curb you’ve stepped over a thousand times before, and finding you’re flying, that somehow the wonderful, unbelievable, magical impossible has happened and you, you are the one person it’s happened to in all the world, and even if other people learn how, you’re the first, the one who stepped off the ordinary ground and flew.” Her voice was unsteady, tears shimmered in her eyes. “It was magic.”
In her words, for a moment, Nicholas felt the phantom chill of discovery, of the utterly unique moment in history, and the whole room was silent.
Finally, one voice spoke. “Just exactly like that,” Joe Buckley said quietly. “Hey, for someone who doesn’t do speeches, that was one damn fine improv, Helen.”
The laughter rippled out, and on the heels of the laughter came more questions. Nicholas let the interview go on for some time, making sure that each of the crew of Mjolnir got at least one answer. History will record them all, and I’ll make sure that none of them look back and say “Damn, I should have said something.”
Finally, he stood. “I think that’s enough, people. Our friends need a lot of recuperation time.”
“One more question, Nick,” Hazumi said, and looked over to the others. “Bifrost was originally built to rescue you, but you managed to rescue yourselves. Now that she’s built, will any of you go back? To finish your original mission?”
“Before they answer that,” Nicholas said, “I should make my last announcement.
“As you say, Bifrost was originally designed as both a replacement for two lost vessels and as a rescue vessel. Now that Mjolnir has arrived home safely, it has been decided to take the time to expand and revise the design. There are pieces to be salvaged from Mjolnir which will likely serve again in Bifrost. The decision doesn’t have to be made now.” He looked back at his friends. “But if you do want to go…I’m sure any one of you would be more than welcome.”
“I’m sure we would be,” Maddie said, rising slowly. The others stood with her. “And I think…perhaps…some of us will. But…”
“But,” A.J. continued, “we’ve spent YEARS out there, and I, for one, am not ready to continue travelling the solar system in a controlled-environment cheesebox.”
“Couldn’t have said it better,” Joe Buckley said, and slid an arm around Madeline’s waist. “Our honeymoon—and yours and Helen’s—wasn’t exactly romantic, either.” He looked out the viewport, where the huge blue and white and brown of Earth was slowly passing in eternal circles. “The solar system’s not going anywhere soon, and we’ve been away a long, long time.
“It’s time to go home.”