To Save the Sun [Ben Bova] (fb2) читать постранично, страница - 93

mattered little to either of them. Javas reached her at last and sat at her side on the bare rock, swinging his long legs over the edge of the outcropping.

“It’s turned into a beautiful day,” he said, taking her tiny hand in his. He squeezed her hand gently, three times, in a gesture that said a silent “I love you.”

Adela gazed up into the sky. “I want it to be a day like this when I wake up.”

Javas didn’t reply, but she knew that whatever request she made on this, their last day together, would not be refused. Her theories had been validated—at a terrible cost—and all that remained now was to select the feeder star from a long list of candidates and to construct the actual hardware for the full-scale version of what was needed to save the Sun. It would take nearly two centuries to complete the task, two centuries of routine work that did not require her presence, but she knew that on the day she awoke from cryosleep, the Sun would be shining just as it was now.

She sighed and slid from the outcropping to stand before him, then encircled him with her arms and hugged him tightly. It was time, past time; the medical attendent had been waiting in the special room set up for her in the House. Adela had needed some last moments of solitude and Javas had given her those moments, and more, before coming to find her.

“I don’t want to leave you again,” she said, still lost in his strong embrace.

“I know; and I don’t want to lose you.” He slid from the outcropping and took both her hands in his. “Say the word and I’ll arrange for someone else to take your place: Dr. Rice or any one of your team you feel is competent. Just ask it.”

Adela shook her head. They both knew better.

They walked silently, hand in hand, back to the House, passing through deserted halls and empty rooms on their way to the new cryosleep chamber. The entire staff had been dismissed. Other than the guardsmen still at their posts, only Master McLaren remained in the House. He had met them at the door and now escorted them personally to the chamber, saying nothing. He smiled once, weakly, when they’d reached the massive oak doors masking the chamber and took position outside once the doors had closed.

She had expected the stark white walls common to cryosleep chambers, but her heart flew when she entered. Javas had ordered that the holographic display of a forest be implemented in the room, giving it a sense of quiet serenity.

“My father often found peace here,” Javas said, and Adela knew that he was speaking of the forest scene and not the House itself. “And I’ve been here a great deal myself in recent years. I’ve had the display edited.” He looked around him and, with a sweep of his arm, indicated the clearing that allowed the sunlight to come streaming down from above. There were enormous white clouds floating above their heads, and the Sun would occasionally go behind one before reappearing brightly a few seconds later. “I thought you might like it.”

She looked around her. The medical attendant stood dutifully to one side, waiting to prepare her for her long sleep. She knew there should be a lot of equipment here: monitoring devices, room systems, additional furniture… and the coffin-like cryosleep tank itself. But the only unnatural object in the idyllic surroundings was a low bed, its Earth-made flannel sheets drawn back for her. The other trappings of the chamber were surely here, but were—for now—being masked out of sight by the hologram.

Javas followed her to the bed, and she fell into his embrace one last time before sitting. She nodded once at the attendant.

“It’s time,” she whispered.

He brought her a glass, and Adela quickly downed the fruit-flavored drink. Aided by the juice she would fall asleep naturally. Once asleep, she knew, the holograph would be switched off. Her clothing would be removed, replaced with the cryosleep gown and stockings, and she would be put into the tank.

And Javas would leave and return to the day-to-day business of running the Empire of the Hundred Worlds, preparing everything that would greet her on her awakening two centuries from now. He would not be there when she awoke, she knew; would not witness the project brought to a successful conclusion. But he would be remembered, as she had told him that night on Corinth, as the man responsible for saving the Sun. It seemed so long ago, that dinner, and she tried to recall when it had taken place but her mind was becoming fuzzy.

She yawned sleepily, then stifled a giggle as Javas sat on the edge of the bed. She was lying on the bed now, she realized, but didn’t remember having done it. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to—”

“Shhhhhh.” He touched her lips lightly with his fingertip, just as he had in a dream nearly a decade earlier. “It doesn’t matter.” She closed her eyes and tried to remember the dream she’d had when coming out of cryosleep on the Levant at the conclusion of her trip home from Pallatin, and seemed to recall that she’d been upset in it, but remembered nothing more.

She opened her eyes, blinking sleepily, and realized that they were alone now; the attendant had apparently left the room.

“I do love you,” Javas whispered, and kissed her softly. He had never said the words aloud before, and as Adela looked up into his face she saw that his eyes glistened. Behind him, a cloud passed lazily in front of the Sun and she felt a smile come to her lips.

The cloud moved away and Adela closed her eyes tightly at the sudden brightness. She felt light, disconnected, as if floating free of the bed.

With the image of the Sun still in her mind, Javas’ face silhouetted against its brilliance, she let go finally, allowing the deep peace of cryosleep to fall gently over her.