HOME TO STAY
By Amanda Russell
Victor Bergman re-read the letter and accompanying papers for the third time, still not certain he believed them - dared believe them. Yet, the papers were official, with all the proper signatures, time tables and authorizations.
Alpha. He was to return to Moonbase Alpha in order to oversee the Meta Project. Shaking his head ruefully, Bergman smiled to himself. He was being 'allowed' to oversee the project because the Space Commission did not want to explain why they kept him from it. They did not want the world to see just how political the organization was, nor how petty they could be due to past conflicting perceptions of the same problem. They did not want to explain why the man who had discovered the planet Meta was not being permitted further work or observation of that same planet as it drew nearer their solar system. Victor knew he was being permitted to work on the Meta Project because it would look good to the rest of the world, not because the powers that be believed he was best qualified for the task nor that his judgment could be trusted.
Smiling ruefully again, Victor Bergman shook his head in amused acceptance and returned the papers to the #10 envelope in which they'd been delivered. He slipped the entire envelope into his shirt pocket, under the V-neck woolen jumper he wore. Although the Space Commission was allowing him to return to the moon, that was the extent of their magnanimity. He had three days before he was to catch the transport Eagle from Earth to Moon, and he had to make his own Earth travel arrangements. Reaching for the phone, Bergman dialed his travel agent. Any other man might be irritated by the way the Space Commission was treating him, but Victor found it amusing. He would play their silly little games. It mattered little to him whose ego he had to caress, so long as he could further his research concerning planet Meta, so long as he could return to the moon. Whether they knew it or not, the Space Commission was giving Victor exactly what he wanted -- a return to the moon and his work there. He was content to play it their way.
"Hello, Vivian, Victor Bergman here. I should like to make some travel arrangements for the day following tomorrow."
Nodding to the flight attendant, Victor placed his cup of tea on the tray table, hand curled around the hard plastic mug. He watched the steam rise and dissipate, reflecting on the rather one sided conversation he'd had with Gerald Simmonds just prior to flight time. The moment he'd seen the bearded Commissioner enter the passenger waiting area, Victor knew he was not to 'escape' without a cautionary lecture. He was right.
Simmonds came to the position of Commissioner only a few months after his predecessor had grounded John Koenig, Tony Cellini, and himself because of the Ultra Probe failure. Simmonds, a shrewd politician with finely honed instincts for playing the administrative and political games necessary to survive in an organization the size and scope of the Space Commission, had done wonders for salvaging the international conglomerate's reputation after several less than successful projects. He was also a pompous ass who liked to hear himself talk - even though he often had little to say to the very few who bothered to listen. Simmonds had not disappointed Victor this time.
Their meeting began congenially enough, and Simmonds was soon offering Victor some 'sage' advise. Victor shook his head. He knew Gerald Simmonds thought he was doing Victor Bergman a favor by telling him - what Victor thought - to be obvious; keep a low profile, make no comments on anything - even the project; allow all information to be released through 'proper' channels, be selective who he associated with during his off duty hours, etc., etc., etc., ad nauseam. Bergman had politely agreed, in effect promising to keep his nose clean and publicly agree with official policy in exchange for his being 'permitted' to work on the Meta Project. Simmonds had not stated it in so many words, but Victor knew what he was aiming at. The bottom line was simple: Victor was to stay out of Commander Gorski's and Commissioner Simmonds' way and not draw attention to himself while on Alpha. In exchange they would keep a discreet eye on him and his activities to prevent a repeat of the embarrassment they perceived Bergman had caused the Space Commission by his public and vocal support of Tony Cellini in the aftermath of the Ultra Probe failure.
Knowing he would probably be "discouraged" from sending personal messages while on Alpha, Victor had called John Koenig before he left home. He'd wanted his friend to know what was happening. John was delighted for him, and promised to tell Cellini, the next time Koenig was allowed to visit. Cellini was undergoing extensive psychological therapy, as recommended by the evaluation team after his return from the Ultra mission, and was allowed only limited visitors.
Taking a swallow of tea, Bergman closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the seat. There was nothing he could do for Cellini - at this point, but perhaps, with time and distance, he and Koenig both would be allowed to return to Alpha, and from there be in a position to help Tony. Until then, he had research to do and a low profile to keep.
The launch pad door slid open revealing the reception area and Bergman had his first glimpse of the interior of Moonbase Alpha in months. He'd thought - perhaps - he would never set foot inside her halls and corridors again, and smiled slowly as he stepped forward, the automatic door closing behind him.
"Professor Bergman."
Victor turned at the sound of a familiar voice, his smile growing wider.
"Paul. How nice to see you."
"And you, Professor."
Controller Paul Morrow stepped forward and the men shook hands.
"Commander Gorski asked that I meet you and help you settle in. He's... unavailable at present but will meet with you at 0800 Lunar time tomorrow."
"Ah, I see."
The two exchanged understanding looks as they made their way down the hallway toward the nearest travel tube stop. Bergman understood Gorski was not pleased to have him back on the base, and this was his not so subtle way of letting Victor know he was there on a 'trial' basis.
The travel tube arrived and the two men entered the car. They had it to themselves for the moment, and Victor could see Paul visibly relax.
"I was able to assign you the quarters you held during your last tour here, Professor. I know you found them most convenient to your laboratory."
"I appreciate that, Paul. I hope there was not a problem in getting them approved for me."
"None at all, Professor. In fact, the Commander 'suggested' them himself."
"Gorski is not overly pleased with my assignment to Alpha."
"The Commander has chosen not to share his views with me, Professor, but I do know many on the base are anticipating your return; the Astro Physics department is especially anxious to work with you."
The Professor smiled slightly. At least he wouldn't be treated as an enemy among allies by everyone.
"Your comlock, Professor."
Morrow held the device out to Bergman, who took it and gave it a quick inspection.
"The Commander ordered Visitor Level A access for you - entry to the common rooms, your personal quarters and laboratory, but I spoke with the head of Security and Ben Ouma, our computer guru, and was able to arrange Visitor Level D. You will have access to every part of the base but Main Mission and the central computer core."
"Those areas require direct security clearance from the Commander."
"Yes... Not everyone agrees with the Commander's... prejudice against you. We are pleased to have you back on base, Professor."
"Thank you, Paul. I appreciate knowing that, and you have my word I will not... draw attention to my activities and the fact the Commander's orders were... extended a bit."
Morrow chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement. Victor could tell Gorski was not well liked by those serving under his command.
The travel tube stopped. Morrow and Bergman stepped out and strode the few yards down the corridor to Bergman's quarters. They were one of only four suites located away from the main living quarters occupied by the bulk of Moonbase Alpha's population. The suites were reserved for visiting scientists, like himself, so they could stay close to their work.
Bergman pressed the comlock stud and the quarters door slid open. He entered, finding his luggage had already been delivered.
"I'll leave you to settle in, Professor. Bob Mathias, Alan Carter, myself, and a few others who have worked with you before will be in the cafeteria at 1900 hours, should you care to join us."
"Thank you, Paul, I should be pleased."
"Very good, Professor. Welcome back."
Morrow smiled as he extended his hand. Victor shook it gratefully, returning the smile.
Glancing at the chronometer housed in the compost in the middle of his quarters, Victor Bergman mentally noted he had nearly twenty minutes until he was due in the cafeteria. He suspected those he was to meet had chosen the later dining hour because Gorski would be through by then. Victor appreciated the gesture. While he had no intention of completely staying out of Gorski's way - and sight - he could see no point in reminding the man of his presence immediately. And he was just as happy to not see the man before their scheduled morning appointment.
Looking around his quarters, Victor gave a satisfied nod. He'd found the regulation unisex style of Alphan uniform hanging in his closet when he put his other clothing away. The uniform tunic sported two beige colored sleeves - denoting his visitor status as well as his lack of formal assignment to any one section of the base. He did not mind at all. Victor was rather pleased to be 'out of the political loop', and not expected to play by the departmental politics that bubbled under the surface in every section. It was easier to slip through the cracks between regulations if there was no one to whom he had to report directly.
Bergman's gaze rested on the low coffee table before the couch and the stack of scientific journal CD-ROMs he'd brought along. Reading material for the times between frenzied activity with the Meta Project. He'd arranged for his personal collection of reference books, charts, maps, etc., to be shipped separately, and they would arrive in a few days. Most he intended for his lab, as that was where he would use them the most frequently, and where he would receive guests and visitors. He preferred to keep his private quarters just that - private.
Crossing to a chair against the far wall, Victor reached down and lovingly picked up a violin and bow. He caressed the highly polished wood of the instrument, a sad, distant smile coming to his face. As a child he'd learned to play the stringed instrument, but it had never brought him the same pleasure as solving an intricate physics or calculus problem. When he reached university, he had packed the violin away, stored on a shelf and barely remembered as his mind turned to other matters.
He'd met Janelle at Cambridge. A handsome woman with an intellect to match his own; with a curiosity the equal of his. They had married exactly two years to the day of their first meeting. Their daughter, Elizabeth, was born fifteen months later. A beautiful child whose musical talent and promise manifested itself at a very early age. By her fourth birthday, Elizabeth was performing classical masterpieces on the piano. But she seemed bored with the piano, and that prompted Victor to bring his old violin out of storage. Cleaned, repaired, polished and tuned, he'd presented it to Elizabeth for her fifth birthday. A natural, she had a skill and aptitude for the violin that he never had. What had been mathematical progressions and sequences to Victor were intricately woven, exquisitely released audio tapestries of the soul for Elizabeth.
After her seventh birthday, Elizabeth never again touched the violin, and Victor once again packed it away, never far from his side nor his thoughts, but never again to be played.
Gently returning the instrument to its case, Victor closed his eyes. The tears still came. Elizabeth developed a rare form of cancer only days after her seventh birthday. It was fast growing with few of the typical cancer warning signs. For the first time in his life, Victor felt useless. None of his extensive knowledge, his understanding of subjects and theories that were beyond most people did him any good. None of what was stored in his brain could be applied to medical science and a way to help his daughter. An experimental, rather radical treatment was tried. It extended Elizabeth's life for a month or two, but in the end it was no real help. Elizabeth died in the spring of her seventh year.
Less than a year later, Victor was not at all surprised when Janelle filed for divorce. She'd never fully appreciated or understood his - or her own - inability to help their daughter. They'd divided the possessions that were most dear to Elizabeth and gone their separate ways. Victor had not seen Janelle in nearly thirty years. The only things that remained to remind him of that part of his life was the violin, and a photograph of him holding Elizabeth only minutes after her birth. The image of her after her death would always be with him as well, but in a much different, more permanent way.
Looking around the room again, Victor realized he'd brought more of his belongings with him than he'd intended. But he knew why. He knew he would not be leaving the moon again. Whether intentionally or not, he was there to stay. He might visit Earth again for brief periods, but his life, his work, was on the moon, was on Moonbase Alpha.
Smiling, Victor Bergman turned, and left his quarters. He knew he was on Alpha to stay. He knew he was home.
October 27, 1997
Amanda Russell
Copyright 1997, Lunatic Productions, Inc.
