Then Libby saw what he had seen through the shield. There was the vastness of space, seductive and compelling. There were stars, clusters of them, and what was surely a distant planet. There was a blackness, an absolute blackness, that spread for miles. The ship seemed to be hurtling toward it.
She heard Cal swearing—or rather the image of Cal was swearing as he pulled on a lever. There was a sound, a screaming rip of metal that seemed to vibrate all around her. The cockpit began to roll, end over end, with sickening speed. And then the screen went blank.
“Damn it. Computer, continue playback.”
Memory banks damaged. No further playback possible.
“Terrific.” He started to command an analysis, but then he caught a glimpse of Libby. She was sitting limply in the chair beside his, her cheeks a dead white, her eyes glassy. “Hey.” He was up quickly and leaning over her. “Take it easy.” Cupping her face in his hands, he pressed his thumbs lightly on either side of her throat.
“It was like I was there.”
He cursed himself and took her icy hand in his to warm it. He had known better, Cal thought in disgust. But he had only been thinking of himself and his need to see what had happened. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“It was horrible.” Whatever doubts she had harbored had vanished completely during the playback. Her fingers tightened convulsively on his as she looked up at him. “It’s all been horrible for you.”
“No.” He combed his fingers through her hair. “Not all.” Softly, gently, he touched his lips to hers, then skimmed them over her jaw. She reached a hand to his face, letting it linger while she gave and took the comfort.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to find a way back.”
She felt a pain, sharp and sudden. Of course he couldn’t stay. Carefully she laid her hand back in her lap. “When will you go?”
“It’s going to take a little time.” He straightened and glanced around the cabin. “I need to do some repairs on the body of the ship. There are a lot of calculations that have to be done.”
“I’d like to help you.” She made a helpless gesture with her hands. “I don’t know how.”
“I’d like you to stay while I’m working. I know you’ve got a lot to do, but if you could spare a few hours?”
“Sure.” She dug up a smile. “I don’t get many offers to spend the day in a spaceship.” But she couldn’t sit beside him at that moment. If he looked at her too closely he might see what she had just discovered: when he left he would break her heart. “Can I look around?”
“All you want.” She was still pale, he noted, but her voice was strong. Perhaps, like him, she needed some time alone. “I’d like to get the computer started on some calculations.”
She left him to it, trying not to jolt when automatic doors whispered open at her approach. She entered what seemed to be a small lounge. A pair of couches were built into the walls, curving back, then out, with bright orange cushions. A table of what appeared to be Lucite was bolted to the floor. There were a few glossy informational sheets tossed around. The future’s version ofCar and Driver, she thought with a nervous laugh as she chose one. She tapped it absently against her thigh as she wandered around the room.
She was a sensible woman, Libby told herself. A sensible woman accepted what couldn’t be denied. But—
There were no buts. She was a scientist. One who studied man. For the time being, she would study what man would be rather than what he had been.
For an hour she walked through the ship, observing, absorbing. There was a narrow, untidy room she took to be the galley. There was no stove, only a wall unit that resembled a microwave. A refrigerator of sorts held a few bottles. The labels were a familiar red, white and blue and carried the name of a popular brand of American beer.
Man hadn’t changed that much, Libby decided. She chose an equally familiar brand of soft drink and twisted off the cap. She took a first experimental sip. Amazing, she thought as she took another. She might have found the bottle in her own refrigerator. Taking the bottle and its comforting familiarity with her, she wandered on.
She found herself in an enormous bay area. It was empty except for a huddle of boxes strapped into a corner.
He’d said he’d just made a supply run, she remembered. To Mars. When her stomach fluttered, she took another sip from the bottle.
So man had conquered Mars. Even in the twentieth century, scientists had been making plans to do so. She would have to ask Cal when the first colony had been built and how the colonists had been chosen. Slowly she rubbed her fingers against her temple. Perhaps in a day or two this would all seem less fantastic. Then she would begin to think logically and ask appropriate questions.
She continued through the ship. There was a second level that seemed to be comprised almost completely of bedrooms. Cabins, Libby corrected automatically. On ships they were called cabins.
The furniture was streamlined, and most of it was built directly into the wall. Smooth formed plastic and bright colors were the style.
She found Cal’s almost by accident. She didn’t want to admit she’d been looking. There was little difference between his and the other cabins, other than its homey untidiness. She saw a jumpsuit, similar to the one he’d been wearing when she’d found him, tossed in a corner. The bed was unmade. On the wall was a picture, eerily three-dimensional, of Cal standing with a group of people.
The dwelling behind them was multileveled and almost entirely glass. There were white terraces jutting out at all angles, and there were tall, shady trees on a green lawn.
This was his home, she thought, certain of it. And his family. She studied them again. The woman was tall and striking and appeared much too young to be his mother. A sister? she wondered, but then she remembered that he had spoken of only one brother.