"We'll see."

Part Four: By Whatever Means Apply

Chapter 30: Octember 29, 1322 A.H.

Althea closed the last of the seals on her pressure suit, rotated slowly before her bedroom mirror, and nodded. Martin watched with his arms folded.

"Check my recycler, love?" she said.

He moved up behind her.

"Looks good. Pottet reservoir is full to the line, and the scrubber monitor shows solid green."

She looked directly into his eyes.

"Let's go, then."

He nodded. They made for the staircase in silence.

He's awfully terse this morning.

-Would you have expected anything else, Al?

I suppose not. But it's making things a little harder. Grandpere? You know I'm going to miss you too, don't you?

-I had assumed so, vain, self-centered sort that I am.

(humor) I'll be back. Think of this as a really long shakedown flight. No side trips and no big risks. Trust me on that. The emissions source in Eridanus is just an excuse to stop by, yell "Hello the house," and wait for the echo to die. And you keep Hope in tiptop shape! I might need it when I return.

-(humor) I couldn't possibly do otherwise, dear. We planetary intelligences have our pride, you know.

I'm counting on it.

They found the entranceway impassably full of Morelons, every one of them wide-eyed and leaking tears.

Martin brought the hoverbike alongside the Morelon hangar, damped the ground-effect fans to zero, and killed the motor. Althea dismounted carefully, mindful of the integrity of her pressure suit, plucked her helmet off the tail of the bike, and pressed the button that opened the hangar door. It rolled back to reveal the nose cone of Freedom's Horizon.

Martin was still on the bike.

"Martin? You're staying to see me off, aren't you?"

He dismounted, went to where she stood, and took her in his arms. She returned the embrace as best she could.

"I can't quite believe I'm about to do this," she murmured.

"I can't quite believe I'm about to let you," he replied.

She leaned back to look into his eyes. "I will be back, safe and sound," she said. "I promised."

"I will be here, lonely and anxious," he said. "As you very well know."

"Visit with Pat and Alvah a lot. Make sure Chuck has as much company as he can stand. Check in on Doug Kramnik every so often. Spend a lot of time with Bart and Nora's Annelise. And sell a lot of reactors," she said. "It'll help with the worries."

"I will," he said, "but I doubt it'll help all that much."

She smirked. "Well, you could always have Claire Albermayer put you into suspension."

He was silent for a long moment.

"Martin?"

"I did think about that," he said.

Althea's mouth dropped open. "No kidding?"

He nodded. "But Claire said the suspensee dreams. I decided that I didn't want to lie down in a cryocapsule and dream about you for three years. I'd rather stay awake, miss you honestly, and pray about once every fifteen minutes for your safe return."

She swallowed, momentarily without words.

"Prayer helps, Al. Give it its due. If nothing else, it keeps us mindful of how little we really control." His hands rose to cup her face. "Can I persuade you to give it a try, now and then, while you're out there in the dark?"

She nodded. "I'll do it."

"Sincerely?"

"Sincerely. I love you, Martin."

He smiled wanly. "I love you, Althea."

She kissed him. "Help me with the preflight."

They strode into the hangar in silence.

Martin waited for Althea to lower the hatch before leaving the hangar. Althea waited until he was safely out and away, donned and locked her helmet, belted herself into her seat, ignited the kerosene engine, engaged the ground transmission, and rolled Freedom's Horizon out to her starting position. She aligned the exhaust nacelle carefully with the ceramic baffle at the edge of the concrete, disengaged the ground transmission, killed the kero engine, ignited the main drive, and stopped.

Here I go, Grandpere. No chats for the next three years or so.

-I know, Al. Be not afraid. You've got a solid vessel, plenty of supplies, and a powerful fusion drive suitable for escaping solar winds and scorching planets. Point it away from Hope, would you please?

(humor) You betcha.

-Speaking of power, I'm very proud of how well you've mastered your telekinesis. It took me less time, but I never disposed of as much raw power as you have. But be careful with it. Sometimes power compromises delicacy. Practice fine handling skills while you're in flight, if you have the time.

I will, Grandpere. I expect I'll have the time.

-I'm sure you will, dear.

Movement to her left caught her attention. She turned and found Martin standing shoulder to shoulder with Adam Grenier. Each had his hand raised in farewell. She blinked back tears and waved in response.

Grandpere?

-Yes, dear?

I love you. Your headstrong, reckless, devil-may-care kinda-sorta granddaughter loves you very much.

There was a pause.

-I know. I love you. Now go to the stars.

I'm going.

She released the brake and pushed the throttle to the six percent mark.

After all the repetitions of the seven years past, docking the spaceplane to the Relic was nearly automatic. Althea had to concentrate to keep her mind on the maneuver. The massive ovoid silhouette of Liberty's Torch, moored to the Relic a quarter great circle from the ingress hatch, pulled at her attention with dangerous insistence.

Slow down, girl. No need to rush anything. No one at Eridanus is waiting for you.

When the dock was solid, she compelled herself to move slowly and carefully through the access tube, as if it were something she'd never done before.

Her tunnels were as she had left them three weeks before: pressurized to 955 millibars, heated to 20 degrees Celsius, and silent as a millennium-old grave. She doffed her helmet, hung it on a hook in the antechamber, and went at once to her control room.

The display screens glowed a pleasant green in the dim light of the chamber she'd dedicated to controlling and monitoring the devices on the surface of the Relic. There were no alarm indications on any display. The fiberoptic camera aimed at the catchbasket showed a placid scene: all twenty-three of the supply loads she'd hurled at the Relic were lined up neatly on the offloading ramp, ready to be moved to the cargo bay of Liberty's Torch.

She powered up the radio, checked the azimuth of the antenna, and dialed in the Morelon family frequency.

"This is Althea Morelon on the Relic, calling Morelon House. Anyone who hears this transmission, please pick up. Althea Morelon on the Relic, calling Morelon House."

She repeated the hail twice more before she heard an answering voice.

"Hi, Al. It's Alvah. How are things in sperosynchronous orbit?"

"Nominal," she said at once. "I mean, everything's as I left it, no surprises. I'm ready to load up and go."

"We're going to miss you terribly, you know."

She grinned. "I got that impression from the send-off you gave me this morning. Never fear, I'll be back before you can get used to my absence."

"You said that seven years ago, too."

It plucked at her heartstrings. "I know, Alvah. But this time you have Martin there to remind you what a pain in the ass I am. By the way, is he around?"

There was a brief, static-filled pause.

"Not just now, Al. He headed over to Kramnik House a couple of hours ago. Didn't say when he'd be back."

"Oh." She swallowed past an unexplained lump in her throat. "Well, when he gets back, tell him..." She hesitated. "Tell him I miss him already. Okay?"

"Okay. Do you plan on pulling out right away?"

"I don't think so," she said. "I'm kinda tired. Probably tomorrow, if anyone down there wants to chat one more time."

"Gotcha. I've got to go, it's time for me to make dinner. Good luck, Al, and may God be with you every inch of the way."

"Thanks." She set down the mike, powered down the radio, and wandered down the tunnel to the air plant, thinking about her evening.

Not today. I'm not leaving tonight. I'll have some dinner, get a good night's sleep, load that crap tomorrow morning and leave in the afternoon.

Mustn't forget the medipod. Maybe leave in the evening.

No need to hurry.

Althea's experiences of pain, of heartbreak, of love lost and love regained, of tensions within her clan and of clashes with others, had toughened her without deepening her. She had not acquired the knack for analyzing her own motives.

There came a moment, after she'd eaten, slept eight hours, eaten again, packed all her clothing, loaded her supplies and her medipod onto Liberty's Torch, titrated the air plant, and made the rounds of her lab areas twice, when Althea finally admitted to herself that she was procrastinating.

It's not that I don't want to go.

Is it?

The decision to make the maiden voyage of Liberty's Torch a solo affair weighed heavily upon her.

Fifteen months out, fifteen months back. Three years even if I turn around the instant I get to Eridanus system. Even with all the exercise crap in the hold and all the books and games Martin loaded into the computer, it's going to be a long, lonely stretch.

Maybe I'm not quite the fearless adventurer Grandmere Teresza thought.

At least Martin will be safe. He'll have the clan around him. Plenty to keep him occupied, too.

She went to the control station, powered up the radio, and hailed Morelon House. Emma Morelon answered at once.

"Hi, Aunt Althea." At twenty-two years of age, the Morelon scion still sounded like an excited schoolgirl. "We've been wondering when you're going to light off. A bunch of us have been taking turns watching for your drive plume."

Althea grinned. "Soon, Em. It should be only a few minutes more. Keep looking southwest. You'll see it." She paused. "If Martin's around, would you please call him to the radio?"