Free Mars Prime by William C. Dietz Page B

access shaft, waited for a cylindrical message bot to squirt itself past, and headed down-ship. Rex and she would be sealed into their individual suspension chambers and put to sleep in less than three hours. That meant there were a lot of things to do and very little time to do them in. But Rex had insisted that she come, so here she was.
    The E-deck observation port was one of the many things that jutted out from the ship's skin and made it look something less than beautiful.
    Kim followed the sign that said "OBSV-PORT" into a side corridor, found a good push-point, and sailed the length of the corridor. An airtight hatch sensed her approach, opened just in the nick of time, and closed behind her.
    The colonists that usually lined up to look out of the port were gone now, sealed in their chambers, so the space was both empty and dark. Dark except for the pen lights that Corvan had rigged to take the place of candles and the light reflected from Earth.
    The planet hung beyond the plastic like a picture in a frame, smaller than the last time Kim had seen it, but larger than a full moon. A small section of the southern hemisphere was blocked by the curvature of the ship's hull.
    "Welcome," Corvan said with the flourish of a headwaiter. "Your table awaits."
    Kim looked and sure enough, the pen lights sat on something circular, which if not a table did an excellent job of standing in for one. Whatever it was floated in midair but was held in place by a length of cord attached to a magnet.
    Kim pulled herself closer. She saw that the table had been covered with white fabric. The cloth bulged here and there where things pushed up at it from below.
    "What in the world?"
    " 'What in the world' indeed," Corvan said smoothly. "Now, take a seat, and dinner will be served."
    Kim laughed, pushed herself into position, and summoned a serious expression. "Thank you, Pierre. The salmon is fresh, I presume?"
    "Of course," Corvan assured her, slipping into a terrible French accent. "The salmon is fresh from ze stream and wanting of you to eat it."
    Corvan whipped the cloth off the makeshift table and threw it aside. It floated away like an errant ghost. Kim laughed when she saw the table setting. There were plastic knives, forks, and spoons, all held in place by pieces of tape. There were standard ration paks, held down by a dab of glue, and drink containers held captive by strips of elastic.
    Corvan took the place across from her. He stood rather than sat, but it made little difference. "Dinner is served."
    Kim looked across the table and found his eyes. One was blue and the other was black. The difference no longer bothered her. "I love you."
    Corvan smiled and lifted his drink container. "And I love you. To us!"
    "To us."
    The rations were the same ones Kim ate every day, but something about the setting made them taste better. The darkened room, the pen light candles, the glow from planet Earth made a picture that she'd remember for the rest of her life. This was her husband's flip side, the part that television viewers never saw, the part that was hers alone.
    The conversation focused on them at first, on their hopes for the future, but quickly returned to the present. The future was too uncertain, too chancy to discuss for very long.
    Corvan's empty meal pak started to drift away. He grabbed the container and stuffed it into a mesh bag. "I made some progress on the murder."
    Kim swallowed the last bite of her dessert. It felt the size of a baseball. Images flashed through her mind. She saw words blinking on the screen. She saw herself opening Martin's suitcase. She saw Havlik's battered face. Kim did her best to sound calm.
    "Oh, really? What did you learn?"
    "The murderer isn't one of the colonists."
    Kim thought about that. If what her husband said was true, it would narrow the field, but there were more than four hundred crew members aboard the Outward Bound, and mat left a lot of suspects.
    â€œWhat makes you say that?''
    "Paxton