Arkwright by Allen Steele Page A

fixed the computers.” Harry stood up from his chair, stretched, and walked over to the railing. It seemed as if the salt breeze was waking him up, but he knew better; it was the anticipation of what he was about to see. Looking down the railing, he saw the same on everyone’s faces. Isaac, Fred, Bob, Ted, Ben, even Mailer and Porter … they were like children who’d been sitting up late on Christmas Eve, waiting to see if Santa would come down the chimney.
    George was right. This was his true purpose in life—not to sell paperbacks, for he could have written mystery or western novels and accomplished the same thing, but to sell the future. That was how he’d come to be there, standing on the deck of a cruise ship with a privileged view of history. But when he looked over at Nat, there was a dark scowl upon his best friend’s face that he’d seldom seen before, as if …
    Light blazed across the western horizon, a false dawn coming from the wrong direction. In hues of bright orange and fiery crimson, it illuminated the vast plumes of smoke rising from either side of the distant rocket. At first, there was no sound; the ship lay at anchor seven miles from the launchpad, Harry reminded himself, so the primary ignition of the five first-stage engines wouldn’t reach them for another sixteen seconds. But as the Saturn V cleared its skyscraper-size launch tower and rose upon a white-hot lance, a thunderclap rolled across the ocean, so loud that he had to clap his hands over his ears even as he felt the deck tremble beneath his feet.
    All around him, his friends and colleagues were staring in rapt fascination as Apollo 17 roared into the midnight sky. It seemed to pass directly overhead as it arched out over the Atlantic, the rocket itself an invisible mass at the head of a man-made comet. The noise gradually diminished, yet it left behind a tinny ringing in Harry’s ears. As if his hearing wasn’t beginning to go bad, anyway.
    He watched as the fireball sailed out over the ocean, growing smaller with each passing second. A brief flare as it jettisoned the first stage, and then the second stage ignited, and the rocket became a bright star that finally moved out of sight. By then, the applause and excited yells that had accompanied the liftoff had subsided. Everyone lowered their eyes from the heavens to grin at one another; Santa had come down the chimney, after all.
    â€œTo the bar!” Bob shouted. “First round’s on me!”
    Laughter greeted this announcement, but when Harry and George started to step away from the railing, Nat stayed behind. He continued to watch the place where the Saturn V had vanished, as if he could actually see Apollo 17 discarding its second stage and going into parking orbit around Earth.
    â€œNat?” he asked. “What?”
    â€œWe can’t let this die.” Nat’s voice was low, choked with emotion. Harry couldn’t tell for certain, but it seemed as if there were tears on his face. “Whatever we do, we can’t let this be the end.”
    *   *   *
    â€œThat’s always been a special memory for me,” Harry finished. “Not just the launch, but also because … well, it was one of those few times, once we got older, that your grandfather let us see his real self.”
    Kate looked at her watch. If she were going to catch the late-evening train back to Boston, she’d have to hurry. “Look, I don’t mean to be obtuse, but why are you telling me this? What’s that got to do with the Arkwright Foundation?”
    â€œNothing. Everything.” Harry was quiet for a moment. “You’re going to have to get the rest from Maggie and George. I could tell you, but I think it’s better that you speak with them. Particularly Maggie.”
    Kate was a little irritated. She’d come a long way just to hear an old man tell stories. It was clear that Harry