BOUNDARY(35)

The imaging genius rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay. Have you ever heard of an old TV show called Doctor Who?"



Helen nodded. "Sure. I was a sci-fi fan when I was younger, myself. I've even seen a few episodes when they reran them for a while."



"Well, both of my parents were Whovians. Fanatic Whovians, though at least—thank the gods—Who fans tend to be more civilized. But still . . . my dad's first name was Thomas."



"Tom Baker." She was still puzzled.



"He was probably the most popular and well-known Doctor in the series."



Now she remembered. "Oh, yes. He was the tall one with the scarf."



"Yes. Well, like I said, they were real fans. So the word Doctor has some very strong associations for me. Especially with my name."



"A.J.?"



"A.J. is short for my real name. Adric Jamie, for their two favorite male companions. I suppose I should be grateful that I wasn't born a girl, or I would have been Romanadvoratralundar Leela."



"Jesus. You're kidding."



"I'm not. I loved my folks, but I swear, there were times I thought that killing them would have been justifiable homicide."



"Do you have a . . ."



"Sister? Yes, actually. And yes, she does have that name. Well, Leela Romana—mom had gotten to choose first when I was born, so dad chose the first name when Lee was born."



"Your parents were definitely in actionable territory there."



A.J. laughed, the first relaxed sound she'd heard from him. "It could've been worse, I guess. I'm named after a supergenius who adapts to any situation and an honest, courageous, and really tough Highlander warrior. And other than their little obsession they were really great folks." He looked sad, but no longer on the edge of tears. "Thanks, Doc."



"You're welcome. At least now I know why you go by your initials. And to be honest, I was hoping for a distraction."



"Let me guess. Test time."



"Right in one."



"Well, much as I know you won't thank me, I'd better send you back to the test papers. And then go bite the bullet and see if Jackie will accept a groveling apology."



"If you can get past the first few moments and she finds out why you went off on her, I suspect it won't be a problem. But you'd still better do some groveling. It will do you good, anyway."



"Okay, on that note, good night, Doc."



"Good night, A.J. And, hey—keep in touch."



"I will. Bye." His image vanished.



Helen shook her head. What a mess. Glancing at the screen, she sighed again and began the long task of grading.





Chapter 13




"Coming up on confirmation. Reacquisition of signal due in five, four, three, two, one . . ."



A.J. held his breath. Please don't screw up now, Pirate.



". . . waiting . . . waiting . . ."



"Are the Martian antispacecraft defenses up again?"



"Wait—we have a signal. Pirate reports all functions green."



"Trajectory?"



"Looks to be slightly hot. May need a short burn for final match. Running the figures now . . . within safety margin. We are go for ISM release at Phobos rendezvous."



The room, momentarily silent, echoed suddenly to the explosive whoosh as A.J. finally took another breath. Good-natured chuckles followed.



"A little nervous, A.J.?" Diane Sodher asked with a grin. "Oh, maybe just a little. I mean, it's not like there's anything important riding on this mission."



"You mean like your rep and half of Ares' money?"



A.J. grimaced.



"Well, you let me know when you're ready to relax." The spectacularly redheaded info specialist winked at him and turned back to her station. A.J. managed to keep from looking either nervous or smug. Diane had been flirting with him for weeks, ever since he started coming to Mission Control regularly, but he'd been too worried about making sure everything worked right to risk fraternizing with the enemy, so to speak. But after tonight, maybe . . .



"Burn to match orbits set for 1435:04. Deployment of ISM units will follow at approximately 1600 to allow for verification of burn success and deployment readiness."



Time for him to take a break. Once the deployment happened he was going to actually have something to do for a change. He couldn't control the Faeries—the Independent Sensor Modules or ISMs in official parlance—in detail at a distance, of course. The speed-oflight lag meant that even at closest approach to Mars, he'd still have a round-trip delay measurable in minutes; at maximum distance it was close on half an hour. But he could give them a lot of general guidance, especially if he thought ahead carefully.