Callahan's Legacy by Spider Robinson

Author:Spider Robinson
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2015-08-08T16:00:00+00:00

7

PARTY TRAP

The loudest sound in the room was Solace’s fan. I could hear myself think. It sounded like a distant little car revving in neutral.

I looked at Callahan.

He looked back at me. “Your place, son,” he said.

I tried to remember what had ever made me want to give up the joyous carefree life of a starving musician. Surely there was going to be another Folk Music Scare, any decade now…

“Have you got an ETA, Solace?” I asked.

“Not an accurate one. Insufficient data. I have only a single frame—and the next shot of that portion of the sky is not due to be uploaded for another eight hours. My best estimate, based on Doppler inference, is…call it dawn, plus or minus three hours.”

I nodded. “So we have three to nine hours to cobble up something that can take out another Mickey Finn?”

“Essentially correct.”

Now it was so quiet I could hear other people thinking.

Okay. First step: take inventory of assets. “Nikky,” I called out, “can your death ray do the job?”

“No,” he and Finn answered together. “I could write on the face of Mars with it,” he went on, “…but Mr. Finn could do as much with his smallest finger. I am not certain I could construct a weapon of the requisite power…and if I could, we could not use it.”

I didn’t get that last part, but was too busy to pursue it. “Mick? How are your repairs coming?”

“Life support: now nominal. Perceptual: ninety percent functional. Motive power: seventy-five percent. Defensive: fifty percent. Offensive: twenty percent. I will not be able to enhance the last two systems more than five percentage points each within the deadline stated.”

I sighed. “Mary? How are your mojos holding out?”

“Just about the same as Mick’s,” she said bitterly. “I’ve lost about half my defensive capability and three quarters of my offense. But it doesn’t even matter, Jake—”

“Just a second.” Buck had his hand up, like a kid in class. “Yes, Buck?”

His eyes were very bright. “Look, I’ve given up, okay? I am prepared to swallow any premise whatsoever, no matter how preposterous. But I insist that the logic parse, after that. What is this crap about a deadline?”

I blinked. “I don’t think I get your question.”

He turned to face Callahan. “Mr. Callahan,” he said, “my name is Buck Rogers.”

Callahan didn’t bat an eye. “Nice to meet you, Buck. How’s Wilma?”

Apparently—perhaps understandably—Buck had never read Nowlan’s original stories; he batted both eyes, several times. “To the best of my knowledge,” he said finally, “she’s still living in Bedrock with Fred. What I wanted to ask you was…correct me if I have this wrong, but you are a time traveler, are you not?”

Mike nodded. “For my sins.”

“You come from the future?”

Mike nodded again. “From a planet called Harmony.” He pointed down and to his right. “Thataway a couple of light-centuries, although it isn’t inhabited at the moment.”

Buck’s turn to nod. “Where there doubtless will one day exist a sophisticated and mighty civilization, with powers I can only dimly imagine.”

“Right.”

They

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