24 Billion and counting

Chapter 3 Serious exploration or a dangerous PR stunt?

I walked into the elevator, the doors closed and it rose, without my initiating a control. It felt prophetic of my life as McDeviot's man. The steadiness came back to my body, but there was a part of my mind not my own. McDeviot was a savant with a talent for rapid hypnotism, and I was in his thrall. I felt he would from now on be laying tramlines which I would follow to achieve his ends. 

For now I could do nothing about it. Nor in truth did I want to. Exciting technical challenges, adventure and more money than I'd ever had before, were in front of me. 

McDeviot was selling a dream. But he would make the dream come true. So, I thought, do as good a job as you can, Commander. 

I turned to face the opening elevator doors, and stepped into a glazed room built on the roof top. It was crowded with press men, cameras and the apparatus of the media. McDeviot's circus had started. 

A smartly dressed man who I had seen before came forward with his hand outstretched, and an amused smile on his face. "Hi. I'm Fritz Jenson, McDeviot's PR Chief. I can see you've had the interview. Overwhelming isn't he? Don't worry - I've seen your record, you'll cope. You're to give the press a conference here and then take off for Cuzco via San Francisco airport. You'll be going by private jet. You'll meet your team at Cuzco. Come. Time to smile." 

We sat behind a microphone, with camera lenses ranged around. 

Jenson tapped the microphone and said, "Well now, you came here to meet the first Commander of our freighter fleet, and here he is, Lewis Ferrand, 43, unmarried, ex-mining engineer, Bachelor of Science, well travelled, and top of nearly six million applicants." 

There was a faint scatter of applause, behind which Jenson said, "Give them a word or two - funny if you can." 

"After an introduction like that the reality will be an anticlimax. I'm not even very good at ball games." I paused. There was a polite buzz, but I was going to have to work harder than that. 

"I would like to say it has been a privilege to work with the people on the course. They're a talented bunch of guys and gals, and I'm sure that any one of them could do this job. Which by the way I only knew about two minutes ago." 

I held my unopened envelope up showing the NASA and Northstar logos, "I haven't even looked at the instruction manual yet." 

There was a friendly chuckle, and I felt less tense. 

Jenson said, "Questions?" 

"Commander, you don't wear a uniform. Will you be getting one?" 

"It's not my intention. There are only twenty four pilots doubling as key construction personnel, plus about fifty specialists in the whole crew staff, and another one hundred groundbased staff, some would I think be under my control. I'm not sure who I am responsible for; as I said - ," and I waved the envelope again without finishing the sentence. "My thoughts are at the moment that we're a civilian outfit. We'll dress for the jobs we do, unless our PR arm wants us to dress up like the Navy." 

I looked at Jenson. He smiled blandly, "Who am I to argue, Commander?" 

"You're not married. Is there a reason for that?" 

"Yes." I said flatly, hoping that would be an end to it. 

Jenson turned to me with a you'd-better-go-on look in his eyes, and I felt uncomfortable again. 

"My previous career kept me long periods away from home, and my marriage did not survive those stresses. My wife and I divorced by mutual consent some three years ago." 

"Do you have a partner in mind?" 

"No. I've really been very busy these last years. You've seen the training we've been through. It was really most intensive - and we had to do homework. Or at least I did, to keep up."