Eric walked through the electric gate with Lisa close behind. There was a hum as the lock in front of them slid back. Ahead lay a long corridor that was almost filled by the moving walkways that ran in opposite directions.
A single button at the guard’s station could turn the entire length of the tunnel into a lethal trap. He had to fight the urge to run.
They stepped onto the walkway and were carried forward. Nothing happened. They reached the next checkpoint without incident and had to resist the urge to look around to see if they were being followed. From checkpoint two to GATE Terminus there was no place to turn around.
The procedure repeated itself. “Cards, names,” muttered the guard. Eric almost forgot his newest alias. An alert Lisa jogged his memory.
“Come on. Mark, get the cobwebs out. I know it’s early, but we’re burning time.”
On to checkpoint three, then four, and then the last. Beyond checkpoint five the corridor expanded to room size. Ahead was Departure Lounge, all around them the living quarters for the colonists. Beyond the Lounge lay the GATE.
They started forward and were shocked when a voice called out sharply from behind. “You two … just a minute.” Eric stood rooted to the deck, frantically trying to decide whether to make a run for the GATE or turn and strike out. As he wrestled with two rotten choices, a lieutenant of WOSA Security stepped in front of him.
“Maxine Zandman,” she said, announcing herself. She eyed them curiously. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of you two here before.”
Eric offered her his most ingratiating smile. “We’ve just been assigned to GATE repair. Came in on the last shuttle.”
“Starting in awfully soon, aren’t you?”
“I’m in subquad transposition repair and maintenance. You know how that is. You don’t keep things moving right, you lose the whole effect. A tough piece of business to swallow anytime, let alone this early in the morning.” He indicated Lisa. “My apprentice.”
The lieutenant nodded, aware her subordinates were watching. She had no intention of mishandling this newcomer.
“Right. Nice to meet someone so enthusiastic about their work.”
“Do the best I can,” Eric told her, brushing past.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Lisa whispered to him, “What is subquad transposition?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll bet that lieutenant didn’t know either, and she wasn’t going to confess that in front of her platoon."
“What if she decides to check on it?”
“If she checks on us, we’ll check out. If she checks on our ‘work,’ it’ll take her an hour of difficult reading to find out that I’m talking bullshit. By that time we’ll be safely away.”
They made their way through the busy Lounge. Dozens of colonists milled around—chatting, reading, watching their last optos. Eric saw couples, singles working at becoming couples, anxious mothers shepherding excited children. Those soon to depart displayed the contents of green carry sacks. Bulkier supplies, he remembered, were sent through after the people.
It was impressive, seeing so many of the famous green uniforms in one place, knowing that each represented the failed hopes of thousands left unchosen. Every one in the Lounge, including the children, had passed rigorous, demanding tests to reach this point.
But not as rigorous as ours, he thought grimly.
They had no trouble passing from Lounge to GATE. A steady stream of technicians shuttled through the last lock. The guards waved the uniforms through without comment, assuming quite properly that the five checkpoints down the corridor had already done their work.
Occasionally they drew an interested glance from a repairman or supervisor, but that was all. Several hundred specialists shared duty-time at the Terminus and it was impossible for any one to know every one of his fellow workers on sight. As for the white-clad scientists and engineers who actually ran the GATE, they ignored everything but their work.
After a while the repeated stares began to make Ericnervous, until he realized no one was looking at him. Of course they would attract stares: it would have been abnormal if they hadn’t, since he was accompanied by one of the most beautiful women alive. Her work uniform couldn’t conceal that.
As he edged toward a console whose function looked familiar, he could hear the colonists talking about their destination. It was early morning, and the GATE was just recommencing service following nighttime hiatus. As he made a show of laying out his equipment, Eric wondered that they’d succeeded in breaching GATE security. Actually, it wasn’t so surprising. Security only had to keep watch for the exceptional antisocial like Griss. There was no threat of sabotage. Even the most desperate criminals on Earth wouldn’t harm the GATE, because there was always the chance they might get to use it.
The GATE itself was not particularly impressive: a modest nave located at the far end of the room, surrounded by curving metal structures and hundreds of blinking lights. Beyond it lay only blackness. Beyond that, according to theory, was normal space, and beyond that space twisted into something quite un-Einsteinian, and beyond that total darkness which became the light of the end of the line.
Eric and Lisa blended easily into the crush of activity. Kelly-green-clad colonists walked in single file toward the waiting circle in front of the GATE. Every thirty seconds, on cue from the GATE master, five of them would step forward in unison to vanish from this part of the galaxy, only to reemerge safely on the far side of Elsewhere.
Actually the process was remarkably ordinary. There was no explosion of light, no violent concussion of atoms being torn apart as the colonists took their giant step through. They just passed away, like a lone camel swallowed by a hot desert horizon. The only sound to accompany the transposition was a brief sibilant hiss as molecules were taken apart.
As he watched, Eric couldn’t keep from wondering if any of the departing colonists had been drawn into the program by Lisa’s charms. He didn’t ask her to identify any of them, and she didn’t volunteer any information. Even if a former acquaintance did show up, it wasn’t likely he’d notice her. She wasn’t close to the GATE and the eyes of every colonist were focused on the dark tunnel to elsewhere.
Off to the right, the GATE master sat studying a bank of readouts on the main control console. Every twenty seconds he would call out in a clear voice, “Ready,” and then, “step through, please.” His tone never varied and his gaze never left his instruments.
It was interesting to watch the faces of the colonists as they actually took the step. Each handled it differently. Some took a deep breath, others closed their eyes, a few hopped through jauntily, and some went in whistling. Once or twice a child would burst into fearful tears. Then the line would slow as mother or father quieted the anxiety, and the march would resume.
Eric and Lisa labored hard at their nonexistent job, but most of their energy was directed at fixing the transposition procedure in their minds. They didn’t have forever. Sooner or later some supervisor or foreman was going to wonder just what the strangers were working so hard to fix.
Eric took a chance by sitting down at an empty terminal and running questions. There were several things he badly wanted to know before they made their attempt. As he probed the computer, Lisa worked to locate a gap in the line of colonists. Only five at a time could make the jump. Six could overload the field and all half dozen could perish.
Their hope lay in locating a close-knit group of three or less. The break in routine would come as a special request from family or friends wishing to make the journey alone. It was easy for the GATE master to comply. It slowed the line only a little and, as a last request, was always granted.
Eric amused himself by breaking down the locks on different files, something he was an expert at. He wasn’t surprised to learn that the actual mechanics of the GATE were quite simple. Most great scientific discoveries are. Not that the information would ever be of any use. He doubted Eden or Garden possessed the sophisticated manufacturing infrastructure necessary to build a GATE, let alone an orbiting station to base it on. They only had access to receiving terminals.
A single mother with two children was leaning out of the line, talking earnestly to the GATE master. She was in the eighth grouping.
“There’s our spot,” Eric murmured excitedly. “She wants the pleasure of taking her kids through by herself. I’m afraid she’ll have to tolerate a little company.”
Lisa nodded, put her tools aside and starting walking a circuitous route that would take her toward the GATE. Eric followed, his eyes searching for possible opposition. No one questioned their movements.
The monitor said, “Ready.”
Suddenly Eric thought. We’re going to make it. At the same time he wondered, as did so many others about to embark on the great journey, at the lack of discovered human inhabitable worlds. Only two in two and a half centuries of searching with sublight drones and advanced telescopes. Ah, but what a pair they were, Eden and Garden!
