Aboard Argo, a colonization ship bound for Eta Cephei IV, people are very close—there's no other choice. So when Aaron Rossman's ex-wife dies in what seems to be a bizarre accident, everyone offers their sympathy, politely keeping their suspicions of suicide to themselves. But Aaron cannot simply accept her death. He must know the truth: Was it an accident, or did she commit suicide? When Aaron discovers the truth behind her death, he is faced with a terrible secret—a secret that could cost him his life.Sawyer's four most recent novels were nominated for the Hugo Award. He has won the Nebula Award for Best Novel, as well as the major Canadian awards for best science fiction and best mystery fiction. Here is the novel that began his career.
This novel would not have taken flight without the help and encouragement of Algis Budrys, Dr. R. W. Bussard, Richard Curtis, Terence M. Green, Patrick Lucien Price, Dr. Ariel Reich, Brian M. Thomsen, and especially Carolyn Clink.
Many thanks to Ralph Vicinanza, David G. Hartwell, Jim Minz, and Tom Doherty for arranging for the publication of this revised edition.
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THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO GO INTO SPACE!
THE UNITED NATIONS SPACE AGENCY REQUIRES PEOPLE FROM ALL WALKS OF LIFE FOR FIRST EXTRASOLAR PLANETARY SURVEY
We require 10,000 people to form the crew of
I love that they trusted me blindly. So what if it was ship’s night? For centuries, astronomers had labored while others slept, and even if there was no way to see outside during our long voyage, Diana Chandler still hadn’t broken the habit of not starting work until after I had dimmed the lights in the corridors.
I’d suggested to Diana that she might be able to verify her startling findings by using some of the equipment stowed in the cargo holds. That no one had been down to the lower decks for almost two weeks didn’t seem to bother her. That she was alone in the middle of my artificial night fazed her not in the least. After all, even with 10,034 people on board, I’m sure she felt safe as long as she was under my watchful eyes. Indeed, she seemed perfectly calm as she headed into a service corridor, its walls lined with blue-green algae behind acrylic sheets.
I’d already wiped the files that contained her calculations and notes, so there was just one more loose end to tie up. I slid the door shut behind her. She was used to that soft pneumatic hiss, but her heart skipped a beat when it was followed by the
Up ahead, a rectangle of red light spilled onto the sod from another open doorway. She walked toward it. Her paces were measured, but signs of nervousness were creeping into her medical telemetry. As soon as she passed through that door, I closed and locked it, too.
“JASON?” she said at last, her normally sunny voice reduced to a tremulous whisper. I made no reply, and eleven seconds later she spoke again. “Come on, JASON. What gives?” She started walking down the corridor. “Oh, be that way if you must. I don’t want to talk to you, either.” She continued to march forward, but the tappings of her heels concatenated into a rapid rhythm that matched her racing heartbeat. “I realize you’re upset with me, but, well, you’ll just have to trust my judgment on this.” I quietly winked off the lighting panels behind her. She looked back, down the blackened corridor, then continued forward, her voice quavering even more. “I
“I’m sorry, Diana,” I said through speakers mounted on the crisscrossing pink metalwork of the ceiling. Those words were enough to tell Di that the crazy fears running through her head were
Dilating the valve on the pipe made a pleasing reptilian sound. Diana laughed nervously, found the strength for a final attempt at humor. “Don’t hiss at me, you rusty heap of—” She gagged as the chlorine hit her. Covering her mouth with her sleeve, she ran, pounding on door after door. Not that one. No, not yet. Just a few more. On your left, bitch. Ah—
