Ben Bova - Voyagers

To Kathy and Bob, who care about the important things.

Professor Ramsey McDermott leaned back in his creaking old leather chair and idly looked out his office window. The Yard was the same as it had been since the first day he had seen it, almost half a century ago. Trees bright in their October colors, students hurrying along the cement paths toward their classrooms, or dawdling on the grass in little groups of two or three, deep in earnest conversations.

A soft knock on his door snapped him out of his comfortable reverie. Its her, he thought.

As gruffly as he could, he called, Come in!

Jo Camerata stepped into the musty little office. I didnt realize shed be so attractive, McDermott mused to himself. No wonder shes getting away with murder.

Jo was tall, with the dark, lustrous hair and ripe figure of a Mediterranean beauty. She wore the students inevitable jeans and sweater, but they clung to her in a way that sent a surge through McDermotts blood. Her eyes were deep and midnight black, but wary, uncertain, like a trapped animals.

McDermott smiled to himself.

Put your books down and take a seat, he commanded. There! Thatll convince her shes in for a long, tough grilling.

Jo sat in the straight-backed chair in front of his desk and held the books on her lap, as if they could defend her. Looking at her, so young, so luscious, McDermott realized that his office was gray with dust, littered with piles of old papers and stacks of books, heavy with decades worth of stale pipe smoke.

He leaned forward slightly in his chair. I hear youve become quite a stranger to your classes these days.

Her eyes widened. Dr. Thompson said it was all right

He did, did he?

Ive been helping him at the observatorywith the new signals theyve picked up.

And flunking out of every class youre in, McDermott groused.

I cant be in two places at the same time, she pleaded. Dr. Thompson asked me to help him.

Im sure he did. McDermott picked a pipe from the rack, toyed with it, enjoyed the way her frightened eyes followed every move his hands made.

Youve been helping Dr. Stoner, too, havent you?

Dr. Stoner? She looked away from him, toward the window. Nonot really. Im working for Dr. Thompson.

McDermott felt a flush of heat go through him at the way the sweater pulled across her breasts, the helpless look in her eyes.

You did some typing for Stoner. Dont try to deny it.

Ohyes, I did.

What was it? he demanded. Whats he written?

I dont know. I just typed it, I didnt read it. Not in detail.

Jabbing the pipe at her, Dont try to play games with me, young lady. Youre on the verge of being thrown out of this university. What did Stoner want typed?

Itsits a paper. A scientific paper. For publication in a journal.

Which journal?

I dont know. He didnt say.

McDermott leaned back, and the old leather chair groaned under his weight. A paper about the radio signals?

She nodded.

And this object hes discovered?

That was in the paper, yes.

For a long moment McDermott said nothing. He sat back in the old leather chair, calmly stripping Jo with his eyes. Enjoying the fact that she obviously knew what he was thinking, but there was nothing she could do about it.

Finally he asked, And what else have you done for Stoner?

Nothing!

Nothing? Really?

No

He pulled his face into its most threatening frown and growled, Didnt you ask one of the secretaries in this department about making a hotel reservation in Washington?

Jo shook her head. That was only for Dr. Stoner. Himself. Not for me.

Then you have done something else for Stoner, havent you?

I thought you meant typingmailing

What about this Washington trip?

I dont understand what thats got to do with my status as a student, Professor.

He snarled back, You dont have to understand, Miss Camerata. All you need to know is that I can toss you out on your pretty little rump if you dont answer my questions completely and honestly. Instead of getting your degree next June youll be waiting on tables in some greasy spoon restaurant. He hesitated, leaned back, smiling. Or maybe dancing at a topless joint. Youd be better qualified for that.

She glared at him, but answered sullenly, Dr. Stoner is going down to Washington Sunday night. He has an appointment to see his former boss at NASA Headquarters on Monday morning. He wants to take his paper about the new discovery with him.

He does, does he? McDermott rumbled. It was just what hed feared: Stoner was trying an end run. The ungrateful bastard. Well, we shall see about that!

He reached for the phone, picked the receiver off its cradle. You can go, he said to Jo.

She blinked, surprised. Am I stillyoure not going to flunk me out?

I ought to, he growled. But as long as Thompson vouches for you, Ill be lenient. Providing you can pass the finals.

She nodded and quickly got to her feet. As she headed for the door, McDermott added, But you just keep away from that man Stoner.

Yes, sir, she said obediently.

As soon as the door closed behind her, McDermott started dialing the special number in Washington that he kept taped under the phones receiver.

Jo drove straight to the observatory. Out through the narrow, traffic-clogged streets of Cambridge, past Lexingtons Battle Green, past the bridge at Concord, out into the apple valleys and rolling hills bursting with colorful autumn foliage, her mind seething:

That slimy old bastard is going to hurt Dr. Stoner. Ive got to warn him. Ive got to warn him now.

But Stoner was not in his office when Jo got to the observatory. The little cubicle on the second floor of the observatory building was as neat and precisely arranged as an equation, but he wasnt in it.

Jo saw a stack of photographs carefully placed in the center of Stoners otherwise bare desk. They were face down, and the back of the topmost photo bore the blue-stamped legend: PROPERTY OF NATIONAL AERONAUTICAL AND SPACE AGENCYNOT TO BE RELEASED WITHOUT OFFICIAL WRITTEN APPROVAL.

She turned the pictures over, one after another. The paper was stiff, heavy, very expensive. The photographs showed views of a fat, flattened ball striped by gaudy bands of color: red, yellow, ocher, white. An oblong oval of brick red glowed down in the lower quadrant of the sphere.

The planet Jupiter.

Jo thumbed through all two dozen photographs. All of Jupiter. On some, two or three of the giant planets moons could be seen: tiny specks compared to Jupiters immense bulk.

She glanced at her Timex wristwatch. No way to get back in time for her first afternoon class. With a resigned shrug, she went to the window and separated the blinds enough to look out.

He was on the back parking lot, doing his karate exercises. Jo watched as he stood rigidly straight, his dark face somber and tight-lipped, his big hands bunched into fists just below the black belt that he was so proud of. For a moment he did nothing, merely stared blankly ahead, a tall, powerful man with jet black hair and brooding gray eyes, flat midsection and long, slim, athletes legs.