Chapter 1
It had been a glorious trip, but they were happy to be going home. Lee had that euphoric look of a kid on a rollercoaster as it neared the big drop. Not that there was any sensation when a starship made a jump. The transition was instantaneous, or as near as anybody had been able to measure. That was pretty accurately given their clocks. The measurements in test flights both running to jump and returning corrected for relativistic time dilatation said there was no measurable transition time to fourteen places for standard naval clocks. Special test ships with even more accurate instruments had shown it was instantaneous within .00000000000000001 seconds.
Nobody now really expected to find any delay no matter how they refined it. One scientist caused his audience at a conference to gasp in horror when he casually mentioned in his report that they had not found any time deviation plus or minus. He'd looked up with a quizzical expression to see what had happened to cause the disturbance. The idea that the time could be off to the plus side had simply never occurred to the rest of them.
Lee didn't think she could ever see the stars blink out and another set appear without a sense of wonder. It was a simple quantum tunneling event, but a miracle nonetheless. The physical principles had been known for a long time and applied to things like passing electrons through a MOS transistor.
Slowly, examples had accumulated of how quantum events could be seen and triggered in larger objects. Finally in actual visible objects. It took quite a bit more engineering and refining of knowledge to make a ship of a bit more than a million tons do the same thing an electron could do, and make sure it did so, if not every time, then at least often enough that the number of ships failing to come out where predicted was very, very small. Lee never considered that possibility when they jumped. Her father Gordon had, every single time.
The devil was in the details, and the probability of making the transition was a balance of several factors. Aim was important. You could just line up optically and jump at where the star appeared to be. But some stars had significant velocity. If you aimed at where they actually were instead of where they appeared to be, it improved your odds. Velocity aided transition, but made you come out closer to the star than going slower. Some stars had unconsolidated discs of rubble around them, which could be hazardous if you chanced to be oriented in that plane. If a system had multiple stars or a seriously massive companion like a brown dwarf it altered your entry too. Many other factors affected the odds to varying degrees.
Early testing had established the broad parameters. Human crews had thought they understood the limits early on. But a few crews were lost because ships could make the same jump with what appeared to be identical numbers and have it work fifty times – and then the fifty-first time the ship would vanish.
It had turned out to take longer and be more expensive to perfect than had been expected; at least most of the error-finding was done with drones not manned ships. Of the ships and drones that had failed to transition, not one had ever turned up. They might have rejoined this universe somewhere, but unthinkably distant – possibly even in another galaxy.
The idea that they had ceased to exist, or had been frozen in transit and might reappear in enough time was a spacers' horror story to scare new recruits that the scientists rejected. Brownie, Gordon's navigator, said he understood the theory, but when he had patiently explained it, Lee just didn't get it. He’d smiled kindly and promised he would tell her another time when her brain had matured and could encompass it. That had really irritated her. Especially if it turned out to be true.
The big plot screen over the physical viewports showed nine ships. More than when they had started this voyage. Two were Lee's private property, the Heavy Cruiser Retribution and the Deep Space Explorer The Champion William. Both were war captures and past United States of North America flagged vessels. Gordon had seized both while making war on the USNA for his clan of Red Tree. The Mothers of Red Tree had sold both off to Lee as unsuitable to their use.
For commerce they had retained some merchant vessels. The captured USNA destroyer renamed Sharp Claws they also kept, feeling the smaller war ship cheaper to operate and suitable to a clan with merchant ships. They, however, had sent it along with Lee and Gordon on their voyage of exploration in return for training and shares for six clan members and an extra share to the ship for each of them. So far it was had been an excellent investment. To the plus they'd found a water world and a wealth of metal sources on their outward voyage. Nobody with even the smallest share was going home poor. They'd also found a system-bound race of aliens with whom they had been were unable to trade or come to any agreement. So that discovery was a wash.
The ship Lee was sitting in was the High Hopes. Another Deep Space Explorer, and the ship she had grown up on. Gordon owned a third of the High Hopes as he had for years while partnering with Lee's parents as an explorer. Lee owned two thirds, unfortunately by inheritance. Her parents had been killed after finding a Class A world, before they could return and register claims to it. Lee was thus heir to their claims’ shares on Providence, as well as her personal claims of land on the planet itself. That alone made Gordon and Lee rich beyond any of the kings of Human history.
Lee sat at a second-tier couch, plugged into the command circuit, watching everything but saying little. Gordon was in command of not only the High Hopes but the fleet around them. Lee was owner, and under Derfhome law and clan custom she could speak to the use of her property but at just shy of fifteen she was still in a semi-adult status somewhere between a child and an adult as viewed by Earth law. Nobody in their right mind would put her in command of a fleet of starships.
However, when she spoke as owner about the business side of their voyage they paid attention. Lee was bright for her age, forced to grow up isolated from society and pushed to learn as much as possible quickly. Living on a ship with all its hazards and being useful to her parents and Gordon in their explorations had demanded it.
Beside the ships Lee and Gordon owned and the Sharp Claws which Gordon's clan Mothers had sent along, they were accompanied by the Fargone Heavy Cruiser Murphy's Law and the Fast Courier Roadrunner. The Roadrunner was far too cramped and lacking in supply volume to make a voyage such as they were on anything but an exercise in torture for the crew. It had been grappled to the Murphy's Law most of the voyage out and now would be on the way back home too. They were present because the planetary government of Fargone, their principal supplier, had been worried about having the entire sphere of Human exploration including the Derf and Hinth races and many cultures represented by one merchant enterprise. They had sent a representative with limited authority in case some new species or civilization wanted to speak to more than a trader. The Mothers of Red Tree had sent their third Mother also in case Derf law should need to be addressed.
The other four ships hadn't come out from Derfhome and Fargone with them. They were owned by a newfound group of sentient spacefaring races. They were the first aliens that Humans found with their own starships, and they were returning to the Human sphere of influence with Gordon's ships. All the ships under Gordon's command had been called the Little Fleet when they prepared for their journey at Fargone and Derfhome. If they kept adding ships like this the name would be silly pretty soon.
The Little Fleet had quickly gotten involved with the internal affairs of these new people, the group being in something of a crisis. They had just experienced a long period of mutual exploration and growing commerce. That due to the fact they were more cooperative rather than aggressive. They didn't even arm their ships. That had been spoiled by the discovery of an aggressive race they labeled Biters, who stopped the other's exploration and threatened their commerce by preying on their ships. This new group had been very interested in trade and especially in buying weapons to protect themselves from the Biters.
The Biters were opportunistic and did have armed vessels. The main thing limiting their encroachment was their deeply divided nature. Their home world was partitioned into hundreds of fiercely competing family territories many of which were not large enough to buy and run a starship. They preyed on each other as readily as others and wouldn't cooperate to field either a large fleet or army sufficient to pose a serious risk to the planetary holdings of the other races.
The Biters had immediately challenged Gordon's forces as soon as their first ship saw the Little Fleet. When rudely told to stand to and be boarded Gordon had instructed the Retribution to blow away the rear drive portion of the Biter's ship. It was quickly obvious that the visiting fleet was not only armed, but armed far better than the Biters. Only the fast and tiny Roadrunner of their ships carried no weapons. The huge difference was that the Biters appeared not to have invented nuclear explosives.
Gordon sent a small force with a native escort on a loop through nearby stars to test the truthfulness of the map they had been given by a dominant local race they had dubbed the Badgers. That force found they had been truthful but also encountered Biters who tried both an ambush on a space station and a direct ship to ship attack against the smaller vessel. On the way back this detached force encountered a Biter ship fleeing the largest ship any of them had ever seen. The Biters had come into contact with an entirely new race coming from the opposite direction as the Humans and their allies. Of course given their nature they had immediately provoked them.
The new race transmitted unintelligible audio that was unlike anything the Human dominion folks or the Badgers had ever heard. They sent no video of themselves and snatched away some of the offending Biter ships. These new people did have nukes and built kilometer long ships that could out accelerate anything seen before. They were nothing to antagonize.
Not long after their mapping party returned to the fleet three of these gigantic ships followed them to the Badger system and matched orbit with the Little Fleet around a Badger frontier world. Two of the large ships snatched a Biter vessel present and took it off. One remained and while it didn't force one of the Little Fleet vessels to leave with it, it had made it clear that's what it wanted by opening a hanger door and giving them an easy nudge toward it with a sort of tug drone.
Captain Fenton of The Champion William had bravely volunteered and asked to take his vessel away as the alien desired. Gordon gave permission, impressed by Fenton's nerve, and how not one of his crew raised any objection.
They entered the ship under their own power and were carried away blind in the hold or hangar to be shown one of the alien's worlds. A star sighting assured them they were close enough to their fleet to return on their own, but reentered the alien ship and trusted them to return their vessel.
After releasing a sample of their atmosphere in the hold the aliens duplicated it. They laid out trade goods and exchanged some items, both sides displaying divergent tastes and technologies. The biggest thing learned was that they were segmented invertebrates. With multiple eyes and manipulating tentacles around their mouths and face. Very unlike any race encountered before. They made no progress on translating the spoken language however.
When the William was returned to the Little Fleet and released the big alien didn't leave, staying and observing them. The locals, Badgers and another race they named Bills were sending four ships back with the Little Fleet to Derfhome and beyond. Their other races didn't have the resources to join in. At least not on this frontier and on short notice.
The Murphy's Law and the fast courier Road Runner were left behind to guard the frontier station against reprisals by the Biters, and secretly to obstruct the bureaucrats from the Badger and Bill home worlds from sending delegations after the fleet who might undo their arrangements.
When they left the Badger's frontier world, Far Away, to return home the giant ship of the strange caterpillar-like aliens followed and soon passed them. Jumping out ahead on the same bearing they were all following. Lee immediately predicted they would escort them all the way back. Others weren't so sure. Thor, however, had been so sure he had proposed a bet against it happening with Lee. In any case they had no way to ask and little say in the matter.
The journey out had been profitable and successful, only taking six months although they had been prepared to go much further. They intended to go back by a slightly different route. Starting back along the outer edge of the sixty degree cone opening toward home the aliens were likely ceding the Humans and their associated races. At some point along the approximate thirty degree divergence from their outbound course, they would angle back toward home. That might add another month or two to the trip by going home the roundabout route. It would be worth it if they found claims as rich as they had on the outbound trip.
Chapter 2
When the stars blinked and made a new pattern with the brighter target star straight ahead, Lee made a little hum of delight. Gordon let out a sigh of relief.
Brownie their navigator said, "Clear sky. No artificial noise. Our new friends seem to have synchronized with our clocks acceptably. None of them are out of position." He was all business and too busy with it to have any relief or wonder that they'd made it again safely.
"Any sign of our escort?" Gordon asked of the big ship.
"Not a thing. No drive signature straight ahead. Nothing on radar at the frequencies we've seen them use," Brownie said.
"Use the Retribution radar to ping the system hard. We'll transit the system slowly and give the ping time to come back to us before choosing a star on the other side. Take us on a bearing that will let us look behind this star too," Gordon instructed. The Retribution carried military grade radar with many more units in the array on its bigger hull. It could throw a lot more power than the smaller ships.
Nobody had anything to say for a bit, all of them watching the screen. Brownie quietly issued instructions to the other ships how they would move and sent the data set to them. The star out the front viewports was unremarkable. The ports darkened just enough to keep it from offending the eye but not enough you wanted to stare straight at it for long.
Unless the High Hopes was in orbit around a planet or much closer to other ships, the viewports were pretty useless. But they had yet to find a sentient building starships who wanted to sit in a sealed box depending on a screen which might fail for all their information about the outside universe. They had even identified viewports on the front of the Caterpillar's ship. They were unfortunately too dark to peer inside. Not for lack of trying.
To Lee's left Ha-bob-bob-brie sat looking even more alert than his usual hyper active self. The bridge was new to him still and he was keen to observe what everyone did and how they interacted. Lee felt good about him being there because she had suggested he be promoted to bridge crew. It was one of the few suggestions that touched on command she'd made to Gordon and probably the riskiest. She'd been relieved when he didn't reject it. She felt each such opinion or suggestion was still added to his mental files on whether Lee would ever qualify for command – at any age.
Ha-bob-bob-brie was a singleton. Their other three Hinth in the Little fleet were a family threesome. That was a breeding group and normal to their species. A male, a female and a nest sitter. They were uncomfortable discussing their biology, even more so than humans. The nest sitter did not stand watches. They regarded Ha-bob-bob-brie as insane to be able to live alone and were very uncomfortable around him. It seemed to amuse him. They were just as happy not to be on the same ship, serving over on the Retribution.
Lee had thought not assigning the sitter watch duty might be cultural bias more than biology, until she finally met them while orbiting Far Away, the Badger world. She didn't think that anymore. The nest sitter was a different color, much more drab and patterned, and the best Lee could describe it was scatterbrained. It was smart, but in a human it would be regarded as obsessive compulsive and manic compared to merely hyperactive. Yet the other two needed it to stay what they considered sane and would never have left it home to undertake a long voyage.
Lee had met Ha-bob-bob-brie long before she conceived the idea of the Little Fleet. They had stopped at Derfhome on the way back to Earth to register their claim on Providence. Before going down to visit Gordon's family and clan they’d docked at Derfhome station. Gordon took Lee to a spacer bar to fulfill the custom of a service to lost crew. Ha-bob-bob-brie was sitting in the bar drowning his own troubles in cheap vodka. He was the first Hinth Lee or Gordon had ever seen. They fact it was her mother and father lost touched him deeply when Lee made her toast. He shared his name and granted her to look at him directly, an uncommon honor.
Ha-bob-bob-brie walked the corridors now barefaced, indifferent to stranger's stares. An adaption the threesome still hadn't made fully. They still wore the traditional Hinth mask hanging on their chest, its inscriptions explaining who they were and how they occupied themselves – if you could read it. Lee had never seen Ha-bob-bob-brie with a mask. But then he was insane.
"The ping from the Retribution shows a very light asteroid belt out unusually far from the star," Brownie said. "We've seen a large enough arc of it to assume it goes all the way around. This whole system is light on planetary material. There is one small planet in close to the star we've found in the optical survey. A tentative small gas giant on the other side of the star that barely shows a disc from here. No artificial returns from fabricated reflectors."
On the voyage out they'd found simple corner reflectors in a couple systems, marking obvious mining claims because some had been worked. They didn't have the tech to date the reflectors, but they were ancient given the micro-meteor corrosion. Why the sites were abandoned and who had worked them was a mystery. Whoever they belonged to was obsessively neat. Thorough searches had yielded one screw-on cap as the single artifact.
"Nothing to stop for here. When you have enough lateral movement to see behind the star, please suggest a new target star on our approximate vector," Gordon ordered Brownie. "Thor, you have the comm until shift change. I'm going to go get a sandwich and attend to reports in my cabin. If anybody needs refreshment have the galley see to your needs."
"I have the comm," Thor acknowledged out loud. They didn't follow strict military discipline on the bridge or the command circuit tying in the department heads and other ships, but it wasn't full of idle chatter either. Once Gordon had needed to tell a fellow that cracking a joke once in awhile was fine if nothing critical was happening, but not while a serious discussion was taking place. That had been sufficient.
Chapter 3
A long slow burn across their entry vector revealed nothing surprising behind the star during the off shift. The radar had time for them to get returns from two thirds of the system and they'd see most of the rest on their run to jump. Everyone had a chance for hot meals and restful sleep that you couldn't do at higher acceleration. The Badgers were used to slightly less gravity so they boosted at point nine five G for them. The second shift crew retired to enjoy their off time and Gordon and his bridge crew came back on duty.
"Do you have a target star picked for our next jump, Brownie?" Gordon asked.
"Yes, there were three good candidates close to our intended route. I picked this one because it has an unusual spectrum and I'd like to see if it has a different planetary system too."
"Very good. Inform the other ships and send them your data set. You may alter our course and set acceleration to suit your planned jump when you please," Gordon said.
"Our oversized friend apparently whizzed right through, Lee," Thor said.
"Yes I noticed. I wonder if we can't develop sensors that could read the drive residues a ship leaves behind and reconstruct the line it took to leave the system?"
"Ask engineering," Gordon suggested. "I wouldn't mind having such a thing."
"Lee, you could buy back your bet with me if you'd rather not have it hanging over your head," Thor suggested.
"I wasn't thinking about it. I'm certainly not concerned," Lee said. "It wouldn't surprise me to see them again. How much of a discount were you going to offer me to settle my bet early?"
"Discount? Just the peace of mind from having it settled," Thor said.
"In your dreams!" Lee scoffed. "I'll offer you the same deal so you don't have to keep thinking about it."
"These Fargoers are a bad influence," Gordon declared. "I never knew before this trip how crazy they are about gambling on anything."
"You really think they could find us again after we transit this system?" Thor asked Lee. "I should ask you if you want to double down on the bet."
"Thor, you were the one who said at first that we shouldn't bet because I have so much more money than you it wouldn't matter to me if I lost. I admit I suggested five percent of our worth as a equitable bet. But do you really want to lose ten percent of everything you own over a bet? I could lose half and still have more than I could ever spend. I don't want to lose you as a friend over some stupid pointless bet."
"The little one is wise beyond her years," Ha-bob-bob-brie said from his seat. He said it so seriously.
Thor looked like he was going to say something in anger, calmed himself and looked at the alien. "Yeah, you're right. I don't suppose you want a piece of the action?"
"You do not want to bet with Hinth," Ha-bob-bob-brie warned Thor, waggling a single digit in a gesture he'd picked up from Humans. "In our society there has never been such a thing as what the Fargoers describe to me as a friendly bet. Before Humans came, long before there was even a world government on Hin, our regional rulers would bet each other extravagantly. The losing side might be a impoverished for a generation to pay it off – or simply decide going to war was cheaper. Betting has always been a form of aggression on Hin."
"Yeah, that's what we'd call a poor loser," Thor said. "I'll be sure to remember that story."
"The Derf have no tradition of gambling?" Ha-bob-bob-brie inquired.
"We are a tribal society. It wasn't common for individuals to use money until very recently. Money was exchanged between tribes. Copper was our most common money but often weighed and not coined. Trade was as often in other goods or food," Thor said. "About the only bets I heard as a child were for covering somebody's chores or ribald bets directed at somebody by a disgruntled suitor who still had a grudge. We did have a cub who would compulsively bet his desserts. He was skinny."
"And keeping everyone broke kept them under the Mothers' thumbs," Gordon added. "When I left the clan keep I had to walk to town and find work to get the first cash money I'd ever held, before I could go on to a bigger town."
"The Hinth also can be very controlling," Ha-bob-bob-brie admitted. "but even as a young child I had coins almost as soon as I could name them. Our close family has more control over you than the tribe or trade groups. They, or at least the nest sitter, often have your whole life planned out while you are still in the egg. If you let them."
"I never experienced that side of Human culture," Lee said. "I see similar things in Human videos though. Domineering parents who want to relive their childhood to better effect through their children, and mothers who manipulate their children with guilt. But who knows how much of it is true, and how much is dramatic license? When I lived briefly with my cousins on Earth it wasn't anything like the videos. But then I've recently seen a few videos set on space ships, and they are so ridiculous I thought it was deliberate comedy when it wasn't. We all seem similar in little ways, but the new folks in the big ships, I wonder if we will find any similarities? They seem so different."
"Well, Captain Fenton assured me they saw rank displayed in their actions. The one who seemed junior was physically shorter too. Now whether that is a mark of age or being of a different sex or even a sub-species is open to question. But that individual had fewer segments in the body. It would be interesting to see if it will add one and how," Gordon said.
"Entry burst!" Brownie interrupted, surprised. "A big one and deep in system." He read the raw numbers and let the computer work, everyone waiting for Brownie to read the solutions, casual conversation forgotten.
"They are crossing our nose on the far side of the star before we'll clear it. It doesn't appear they are slowing so they will exit before us. Emissions indicate they are our Caterpillar escort. They had to change vector completely in this system and then double back, or make a loop to reenter on this heading. That would require even better acceleration than what we've seen them do."
"Might this not be a different Caterpillar ship than the one who blew through ahead of us?" Thor asked.
"It could be," Brownie agreed, "but besides doing a radar sweep they transmitted audio. Not that we have any idea what they are saying yet, but it was the exact same transmission sequence they sent when they accelerated ahead of us leaving the Badger world. And it wasn't a general broadcast. Signal strength from our other ships indicates they guessed where we would be and their transmission was in a cone directed right at us."
Ha-bob-bob-brie broke the silence. Lee had never heard him speak so dead flat with no inflection at all. "Hmm... Is there still a piece of the action on the table if one wants it?" he asked, carefully not looking at Thor.
"I believe I'll just stand pat on that, thank you," Thor said.
Lee thought of a whole salvo of snarky things to say, but she was maturing and just treasured thinking them.
* * *
"Commander Gordon," Robert Frost, captain of the Sharp Claws appeared not just on the command audio feed but came up on the video feed to Gordon too. That indicated he had something more than routine to discuss.
"Captain Frost," Gordon acknowledged and nodded, a human gesture many of them had assimilated.
"We have the first case of an infection from an alien life form. I just finished speaking with my medical officer about it. The crewwoman who reported to sick-call tried to treat it herself but it didn't improve."
"Well, I guess all those protocols we've followed were not entirely without merit as our recent hosts implied." Gordon said.
"Oh, we've known there are things one can catch already," Frost said. "Thorn has a whole list of them, mostly various amoebas and parasites. The people who keep an embassy open on the Elves’ world, just in case they ever want to have anything to do with us, get something called Blue Dot. They feel tired and get little blue bumps that go away in about three days. Nobody has ever isolated an organism causing it or documented a human to human transmission. I don't think they've ever had a Derf on world to see if they catch it. The thing Earth worries about isn't that sort of thing. They are fearful of something deadly like the flu or smallpox."
"I take it this isn't such a devastating disease or you'd be more upset?" Gordon prompted Frost.
"Yes, it another irritating thing that I'm pretty sure we can deal with, but it still seemed worth a word of warning."
"Good, I'm putting our medial guy on the circuit," Gordon said. "He's our environmental officer too. Would you describe how you became aware of this and we'll send the recording to our other vessels too."
"The young Human woman is a previous Fargone missile tech who left their service before we recruited her. She's twenty-seven Fargone years old, a bit more than twenty eight T-years. She got a patch of white and itching to the inside of her little toe on her right foot. Thinking it common Athlete's Foot she asked our medic for a tube of anti-fungal cream and she prophylactically applied it to the other gaps between her toes with clean hands , and then applied it to the afflicted area last. It didn't improve; in fact it got worse, appeared on the other foot, and changed color to a yellowish hue. That's when she returned to medical and sought help." Frost said.
"Frost, what is this Athlete's Foot?" Gordon asked, puzzled. It seemed like an athletic foot should be a good thing.
"It's a common fungal infection in humans. It is often spread in damp communal areas like showers, where people go barefoot. But it is incubated in the dark and moisture between their toes. The more so because shoes and socks keep the foot in the dark and limit drying air circulation. This is a Badger analog of a fungus, but the medical tech was smart enough to scan a swab and see there is alien genetic material present. Indeed it returned an error message because there are sequences not common to any Earth organisms."
"How did you confirm it is a Badger organism?" Gordon asked.
"We have some preliminary sequencing of Badger and Badger planet organisms from trading items," Captain Frost said. There were short sequence matches once the medical scanner was supplied a wider database. But also when we showed photographs of her foot to Badgers on the Dart they immediately said: 'Oh yeah, boot rot'. It seems it is an occupational hazard to those who have to wear boots for their work such as caring for herd animals and working in industrial settings. Most Badgers avoid wearing an enclosing shoe unless absolutely necessary."
"Then I assume they know how to treat it?" Thor asked on the audio feed.
"Yes, but their cure is to crush a sort of common weed that looks like a succulent and stuff the sticky mass in the toe of the boot. The other folk remedy is to find a source of mud near a natural body of water and coat the foot liberally with it, getting it between the toes thoroughly, and allow it to remain and dry out for a few days before washing it away. Apparently there are naturally antagonistic organisms in such mud. Since neither cure is available here my medic cut the upper section away from the toes on a pair of cloth shoes. We are coating one foot with a disinfectant wash we use for surgical prep and the other foot with a dilute solution of iodine. We'll see which works better and switch to that on both feet."
"Thank you. Keep me appraised if this becomes a bigger problem or doesn't respond to treatment," Gordon requested. He appeared ready to end the discussion but Lee spoke up.
"Gordon? Captain Frost? Just a thought here. Most Human laundry is vacuum tumbled. A freeze dried fungus may be dormant but not dead. You might make sure her socks get wet washed in chlorine bleach or something similar or they may just re-infect her."
"That's interesting," Frost said, looking surprised. "I'll mention it to my medic right now."
"How did you know that?" Gordon asked Lee after Frost was gone.
"When I lived with my relatives in Michigan for awhile their kids got Athlete's Foot at the community pool and quickly spread it to everybody else at home. I remember my cousin's wife putting bleach in the wash to get rid of it."
"So you did learn some practical things on Earth," Gordon said, amused.
"Just all kinds of skills," Lee assured him, scowling. "I know how to form a jail gang to keep safe. I know how to get back in line quickly to get a second serving in the jail mess, and I know how to slowly eat a candy bar in tiny little nips and make it fill you up if they have you on lock-down and aren't feeding you. I learned how to sit in the sun where there is a breeze to keep the mosquitoes from leaving you a mess of welts. I even know how to suck-up to a bureaucratic negative tax official so you get your case moved forward while the angry combative folks don't get what they need. Doesn't mean I want to live on a planet where I need those sort of skills," she said firmly.
There was a lot Lee still hadn't told him about her time on Earth, Gordon reflected.
* * *
"Everybody synchronized and running sweet?" Gordon asked Brownie toward the middle of their shift.
"Yes, there are no serious problems anywhere. You have a choice. We can up acceleration by about fifteen percent and jump within our normal shift, or we can stay at our present acceleration and extend the shift a half hour."
"And what do we do on the other side?" Gordon asked.
"Well, it only takes ten minutes or so to nose count and we could shift change a bit late," Brownie suggested.
"No, Thor has convinced me that running the A team on jump is the safest way to go," Gordon reminded him. "That to my mind includes keeping us on the bridge on the other side of jump until we have a deep enough radar sweep to know there are no close up problems. Take us all up to one point fifteen G and figure we're going to hold the shift over forty-five minutes after breakout. That gives us fifteen minutes to do a passive scan and then we ping the system hard and wait a half hour for returns. If nothing nasty or weird is within fifteen light minutes then I'll feel comfortable going to my cabin. If something approaches after that it'll be far enough out to let us be awakened and called back to the bridge."
"Aye, sir. Sending that out to the fleet with a five minute warning we are upping boost. I'll change the jump time and attach the data on the notice as soon as the box has a solution."
"Thank you, Brownie."
* * *
Jeremiah Ellis from Engineering called Gordon on a private circuit rather than intrude on the command circuit with an extended conversation.
"Sir, I've been doing some calculations about the Caterpillar's ship. It's interesting. May I tell you about it?"
"Certainly, it's boring up here right now until we jump. I'd love to hear something interesting."
"As near as I can figure the timing from when we saw the Caterpillars jump ahead of us until they reentered the system and crossed our nose, they must be able to accelerate somewhere in excess of thirty G if they altered course and a made two system loop to jump back to this system. If they decelerated hard enough to make a right angle turn, jumped out, and did a dead stop and reversed direction in the other system it's worse. They'd have to do at least a thirty-eight G acceleration to jump to the same safety standards we do."
"They have only been directly observed pulling about ten to fourteen G," Gordon said.
"Yes! And something else worth mentioning, they shot missiles at Captain Frost in the Sharp Claws in System 67 just before he jumped for System 82. Those only accelerated at a bit less than eighty G. Compared to our missiles, theirs are not as proportionately faster as their ships."
It amused Gordon how animated Jeremiah got when he was enthused. "Any ideas on why?" he asked.
"Nothing concrete, just wild speculation. We know they have some sort of gravity manipulation. Perhaps it doesn't really provide any advantage in a missile. You can harden things like electronics far easier than protecting living things. Perhaps what they use on the ships takes a great deal of power. It occurred to me they may only manage the perceived acceleration in limited areas of those big ships. We just don't know yet," Jeremiah concluded.
"Don't forget the missiles that they fail-safed had a weird spectrum too. They appeared to be pure fusion weapons instead of using a fission kernel," Gordon said.
Jeremiah opened his mouth and then shut it. Frowned and then looked serious, not animated. "Don't quote me, but there are rumors some humans have that tech too, but it is closely held," Jeremiah said.
"What do you mean, closely held?" Gordon demanded. "Pure fusion weapons would be a huge advantage if they were cheaper. Why would anybody hide them or refrain from marketing them?"
"Look, it's hard for me to tell this again. I told this to a friend once and he stopped doing things with me and labeled me a nutcase, but my grandfather told me this big story when I was a kid. Do you know the orbital hab Home used to be in LEO, not out at L2? It was alone then. They didn't have the two added companion habs they do now, doing a halo dance around the same center."
"Yeah, I've heard of Home. Very exclusive and expensive. Picky about who they let in. They have some kind of a weird government too. But what would they have to do with exotic weapons? Space stations are just about impossible to defend. The first thing they do in any conflict is evacuate the damn things," Gordon insisted.
"Yes, but you research it and you'll find nobody has screwed around with Home or its allies for the last hundred years. It used to be under USNA law before they rebelled and went independent. Look up the history," Jeremiah told Gordon. "The USNA actually surrendered to them back in the day. They obviously could not occupy them with only a couple thousand population but they demanded concessions and got them. The thing is my grandfather told me that after they got their independence they had some tech China tried to steal. This was back when China was as big as it ever got, one country from Korea clear west to India. They hijacked a Home ship and took it back to China. Probably to tear it apart and reverse engineer it."
"What kind of tech are you talking about?" Gordon pressed.
"My grandfather was USNA military," Jeremiah said. "He said Home ships accelerated faster than a human could survive. Just like the Caterpillars. That's what the Chinese wanted. The Chinese snatched this ship off dock at the ISSII. The old ISS they retired and was bought and rebuilt for a private hab. Well, when they took it back to Earth the Home people bombarded the main Chinese spaceport out in the Gobi Desert to destroy the ship.
"The thing is, grandpa said it was a pure fusion weapon. Something on the high side of two hundred megatons with no fallout. He said at the time it was a state secret and freaked all the brass out. If you doubt it go look at the public satellite maps. The crater is still there. I didn't believe it either when I was about eight years old. I was a skeptical little snot, but my granddad called it up on the web and showed me the crater and then older maps showing the spaceport there when I questioned him."
"The crater shows from orbit?" Gordon asked, skeptical. "They haven't filled it back in?"
"Gordon, it was about six kilometers across and a kilometer deep. How much would that cost to fill back up? And to what purpose when you have plenty of unused desert all around it?" Jeremiah asked.
"So you believe this, and that nobody has duplicated the tech since then?" Gordon asked, warily.
"I believed my grandfather, after seeing the evidence on the web. And I'm not quite as afraid to tell the story again, because when we get back I'll be so rich now I won't have to worry if you or anybody else will hire me again. Everything looks easy in hindsight," Jeremiah said. "Look at the races we just met who don't even have fission weapons, much less X-heads. I've heard a lot of the men cracking wise that they must not be too bright if they couldn't figure out something so simple. Maybe they think we're clueless for not having the gravity plates they sold us.
"My point is however, that such a little place with a small population has been left alone all this time, very much like Switzerland on Earth. Why? I suspect my granddad knew what he was talking about, and they are left alone because the big boys know if you mess with them you'll get vaporized down to the bedrock. What are the chances they'd be left alone for so long otherwise?"
"Hmm. You might have something there," Gordon admitted. "I had somebody tell me pretty much the same thing, that it's always 'obvious' when somebody hands it to you on a platter. In any case thanks for the story. I have to go since we're coming up on jump," Gordon said, and closed the circuit.
It seemed an improbable story, but Gordon resolved to have it researched when they got back.
Chapter 4
"Coming up on jump in two minutes. Count is on the screen," Brownie called out as they watched silently.
A star appeared directly ahead, strongly blue in color. The collision alarm klaxon immediately sounded and gave them all a jolt. All the years Gordon had spent on ships he'd never heard it for real, just had it played for him in training. It only repeated three times before Brownie flipped the safety cover open and slapped the mushroom shaped button on his console. "All clear, it was a piece of junk. We were past it before the first toot was done. We missed it by ten kilometers, but that's plenty close to trigger a warning."
"How big was it, Brownie?" Gordon asked.
"Somewhere between three and five meters across. Irregularly shaped. Big enough to vaporize us if we'd hit it solidly at system entry speed."
"I've never entered close enough to anything to trip a collision warning," Thor said.
"Neither have I," Brownie agreed. "That was a once in a lifetime experience I hope. It had to be almost straight ahead or we wouldn't have seen anything that small."
"Has anybody ever hit some rock like that?" Lee asked, voice trembling.
"There was a merchant, I forgot the ship name, who entered the Thorn system and radioed their arrival. They were never seen again. There was a flash in approximately the right direction, but in system they never saw any debris on radar. Pretty much everybody agrees that what happened to them," Brownie told her. "At least with us, our companions would report what happened. With nobody in system and no scan we'd just disappear if we were alone."
"In between is usually pretty safe," Brownie said. "It's planets that are dangerous."
"Unless somebody is shooting at you," Thor added.
In another half hour Gordon was satisfied there was nothing nearby that would be a threat and turned the comm over to the alternate bridge crew. The main bridge crew went off to rest and left it up to the fresh folks to start on a system survey. By the time they were rested the furthest radar echoes would show what sort of system they were in, if not every detail. They wouldn't see the far edges until they were well on the run to jump again.
* * *
When Gordon returned rested and fed, Carl Bourne, the beta bridge crew commander didn't leave, he shifted over to an empty jump seat and waited unhurried for the main crew to settle in and Gordon to issue any commands he had in mind.
"Mr. Bourne, did you have something to discuss?" Gordon inquired, pleasantly.
"My coms tech is very interested in the second planet we can see from the star. Excited like a kid if you want to know the truth. He proposes we take the time to brake around the star and examine it. I know you've consulted with Ernie Goddard in engineering about stellar formation and planetary theory. Perhaps run it past him too, but it appears to be a water world from spectroscopic analysis. Are we to the point yet we don't get excited by water worlds?" Carl asked with a smile.
"That's a good question," Gordon admitted. "I wonder what the payback would be on a water world this far out? Perhaps more to the point when would it start paying off?"
"Well if it helps tip you over the edge to look at it we see a bunch of odd spectral lines that indicate complex organic molecules."
"Chlorophyll?" Gordon asked.
"No, not that specifically, but organic dyes of some sort," Carl said. "It doesn't appear to be a sterile world unless it is unlike anything we've seen before."
"Wow, we're all going to get greenies," Brownie said. A spacer's voyage rings were plain, but a water world added a blue gem and a living world a green one. They were rare.
"Brownie, check the data log and inform all ships that we are going to do a slow fuel conserving loop around the star and examine this anomalous planet the second shift has observed. We'll match the world's orbit around the star and The Champion William and Sharp Claws will assume a high orbit around the world to examine it. You may inform all ships we will be braking and to stand by for numbers and orders at your convenience once you have them calculated."
"Aye, sir. I am informing them to expect to decelerate on my numbers in about ten minutes."
"Also, go ahead and inform Mr. Goddard to access the survey data when he is off duty and advise us of his opinions and recommended actions for the planet."
"Thank you, Gordon. I was about to ask you to do that," Lee said. He just nodded acknowledgment.
"Aye," Brownie said, busy already.
"I didn't need his input," Gordon told both Lee and Bourne, "a water world is one thing, but the possibility of a living world is much too interesting, and profitable, to pass up."
"Thank you," Vigilant Botrel said, "I'm for my supper and bunk if you'll excuse me sir?"
"Have a good one," Gordon said waving him away. Then he caught himself. "Your coms and sensors tech is Mr. Hadak I believe?"
"Yes sir. Prudence Pathway Hadak," he said, "And not a female as the name would likely indicate if he were Earth-born."
"Ah, another Fargoer then." Carl just nodded yes with a smile.
"Well, tell Mr. Hadak that after we observe this world a bit closer if he wishes to name it he may do so," Gordon said.
"Very well sir. I think he will be pleased with that," Botrel said, and left having his captain's leave.
* * *
It was the beta crew's full shift again and into another turn for Gordon's crew before they pulled up in a stellar orbit trailing the world but well away from it. Their loop around the star revealed another planet tighter to the star which was somewhat smaller and while it had an atmosphere it was much drier and of temperature extremes that made it an unlikely candidate for life. It made them revise the status of the water world to third from its star.
The Champion William took up an orbit around the planet out safely beyond the geostationary level so that it turned under them slowly without maneuvering. The Sharp Claws stayed at the same level but ahead of the Deep Space Explorer so that it came over the horizon and was exposed to view first from the surface. It was much more able to defend itself and move from any hostile action.
"Did you see any land?" Captain Priceless Fenton on the Explorer asked Frost, captain of the destroyer Sharp Claws, by private beam.
"Hey, you guys have far better instruments than we do," Frost reminded him. "Did you nod off or forget to tell somebody to look?"
"Very funny," the Fargoer human told the Derf. They knew each other so well there was no species barrier to understanding, and their humor was very similar. He knew very well what was bothering Captain Fenton. He hated to report such an oddity to Gordon without some confirmation. There was no known water planet in all of explored space that didn't have at least island groups. This planet looked bald as a billiard ball. There were clouds, but only one cyclonic system that could hide anything of significant size.
"We see some darker surface area by telescope, but nothing raised and nothing extensive. I'm going to ask permission to examine it with radar," Priceless decided.
"There's no artificial satellites and no radio emissions. That shouldn't be a problem," Frost agreed. Truth was, it gave him the willies too.
"Commander Gordon, we observe no significant surface features by visual inspection. There is no evidence of a technological presence. Cloud cover is not extensive, but we'd like permission to examine the surface with radar," Captain Fenton requested.
"Sure Priceless. Go ahead. I doubt it is going to rouse anybody who will put a missile up your butt," Gordon said.
Why did Gordon THINK of that? Priceless wondered, unnerved. The man was a tactical genius, and he actually thought man without a trace of prejudice. In his mind man was a generic for sapient. He was disturbed he hadn't thought of that reaction to painting whatever was down there with radar.
"Sharp Claws, are we within your defensive missile envelope?" Priceless inquired. He'd switched to the fleet command band.
"Yes, we have your back, Priceless. I can close up with you a bit and give you better coverage. Do you want the board hot and manned?" Frost asked. His tone said he had other questions, unasked.
"Please, I'd like you set for all action, both defensive and offensive when I paint the surface with radar," Priceless requested. "Advise me when you are ready and we'll start radar mapping."
"I'm calling Battle Stations," Frost told him. "They will be ready in four minutes or somebody had better be able to tell me why not. It's good to drill them," he said. He didn't make Priceless feel like the unsaid thought was – Whether there is any need or not.
"Mr. Wong, tell the crew to be safe for maneuvering in four minutes. Advise me if there is a problem," Priceless ordered for his own vessel.
Probity Schlemmer on the com board was looking at Priceless expectantly.
"Ming Lee advises me he has a biscuits in the oven," the XO, Burt, told him. "He has turned them off and is prepared for acceleration. He warns that if you get a fire warning in the galley it is likely a false alarm. All other stations report ready."
"We shall not complain if the biscuits are too brown," Priceless promised. "Mr. Schlemmer, I'd like a high resolution map. Use the highest frequency that doesn't have too much absorption loss in the atmosphere. Can you do a penetrating scan at the same time as the surface?"
"Yes sir. We can do a long wave deep scan that would go as much as twenty meters in dry ground. However depending on the salt content it may only do four or five meters in water," Probity said.
"Very well, when Captain Frost indicates he is ready you may start to build a map for us. On a surface with no fixed points I leave it to your ingenuity to lay longitudinal lines on it."
"I'll establish the planet's rotation by Doppler," Probity said. "Even low chop gives enough of a return to do that at the horizons. The wave face itself has some velocity, but not significant compared to the planet's rotation. That may not be accurate enough for a couple years out, but we can find the same areas by timing for several months. I can only assume the water turns at very close to the speed of the core at various latitudes. I mean, it has to have some sort of core down there."
Captain Frost reported his vessel ready.
"One would certainly think so, Mr. Schlemmer. If it were liquid to the core I have no idea how water would behave at the pressures and temperatures that would exist. I doubt the surface would be so placid with the violent convection, and it isn't near dense enough for the gravitation it is displaying," Captain Fenton reasoned. "You may proceed," he added.
Probity blushed because it had been a stupid remark. He was just rattled at how bizarre it was to find an all water world.
"I'm seeing swells. Most of them are less than two meters and very long. There are areas with different reflectivity... They tend to be the same height as the water. That is, they rise and fall with the swells," Probity reported. He felt better now that he was doing what he knew, and the captain hadn't kept discussing his silly thought.
"We don't have a water landing capable shuttle," the XO, Burt Wong said. He seemed to be simply thinking out loud.
"We could put together an instrument package and soft land it. Get some idea of what is dissolved in the water at least," Probity said.
"Yeah, and maybe something to check for biological chemicals. Maybe a microscope to look for bacteria," Captain Fenton elaborated. "Possibly a camera and light to look for fish or whatever."
"Could you drop a small charge for sonar and see what sort of depth you get?" Ho'omanawanui, engineer on the Sharp Claws suggested.
"Setting off an explosive, even a small one, might seem hostile. Not until we know if anything lives there," Fenton insisted.
"Absolutely," Frost agreed sharply.
"Do you expect intelligence down there?" Ho'omanawanui asked, clearly astonished at the idea.
"I expected dirt," Captain Fenton said. "At least a little bit of it somewhere. With that strange a start I'm not expecting, or excluding, anything. I'm just as glad we don't have a water landing shuttle. Some damn fool would send it down before we have any idea what we are looking at. I want some idea what's under those waves before we float on them."
"Sir, there are definitely some areas that have a different texture. I was just able to focus the telescope on an area that absorbs radar more than the surrounding water. It's a very dark red color," Probity reported.
Lee had been quiet, but she spoke up. "A lot of plants have red pigmentation. I'm not sure if they do photosynthesis with it or it just masks the green color. But they are strongly colored."
"Some of the plants on Thorn are red too," Captain Frost chimed in.
Summer Hokkaido in Systems spoke up on the circuit. "If you didn't know, on Earth they have vegetation like kelp that forms tangled mats in the ocean. Perhaps this is something similar."
"That may be, keep observing. We're switching bridge crews in a few minutes," Gordon said from the High Hopes, "We'll review all the data tomorrow and entertain other suggestions. How is your bridge crew switch staggered from ours, Captain Fenton?" They deliberately staggered shift changes so no unexpected event caught all of their vessels at a shift change.
"We switch shifts a half hour after you," Priceless said.
"That will work fine then," Gordon said, "I'll be on my second coffee by then. I'm off com here."
"Is caffeine a stimulant for Derf too?" Burt Wong asked, after Gordon was gone.
"In sufficient quantity," Priceless told him. "A Derf mug is usually two liters. And if they stop drinking it they get a headache and irritable just like humans, but for about five days instead of three."
"Then one hopes they brought along plenty," Burt decided.
* * *
The world had time to turn under them fully by the time Gordon was sitting in his command chair again. As promised he was on his second big mug of dark strong coffee, patiently waiting for Captain Fenton to start his shift on The Champion William, to discuss the radar mapping and what limited optical observations they could make at a distance. He wondered how dark their biscuits had gotten in the turned-off oven, but it seemed petty to ask when they had a planetary survey to discuss.
"Sir, we have a short series of radar pulses and a hail in what we assume is Caterpillar language."
"But no entry radiation observed?" Gordon asked Brownie.
"No, sir. They must have come in on the other side of the star."
"I wonder if they thought we'd be gone on or close to jump? They might not have anticipated how interested we'd be in a water world," Gordon speculated. "Assuming they know the neighborhood and had any idea it was here. This does seem to be the edge of their reach or beyond."
"You have to wonder how far they range the other way," his Xo said. "Is their civilization as mature as their technology? Have they been at it longer than we have, to be ahead of us in ship design?"
"Indeed," Gordon agreed. There was simply no way to speculate.
"Let off a couple hard pings from our radar," Gordon instructed. "I consider them friendly and we're not trying to hide from them."
"Aye, sir," Brownie said. "We could send voice, but there is no indication they understand it."
"You could send images," Thor suggested.
"Why not video?" Brownie asked. "They responded to video before."
"Yes, they responded, but when we send video they sent back still images. I think they just analyzed our video and extracted images," Thor said. "They have never sent video back to us. For some reason they seem uncomfortable with the format. It may be quite incompatible."
"Good morning, Commander," Captain Fenton said on the command band.
"Ah, good morning, Captain. Do your people have a report ready?" Gordon inquired.
"Yes, and I'm sending a text version with some images. I'll leave it to you who you wish to allow see it," Captain Fenton said. "There's nothing particularly disturbing, but it's interesting."
"I'll probably post it to the fleet net, but after your summary and looking myself," Gordon said.
"We know now there is no land. Not even under the hurricane. There is definitely life. We see mats of what we assume is vegetation. We've identified three distinct types by color. Although one of my crew pointed out they might be seasonal variations or groups that mature together and are at different stages. None of them however project from the water more than a few centimeters. There are large organisms that surface and submerge. We saw them on radar and then were able to train the telescope on them. Observe," he said sending the video over.
The scene appeared to be from a height as there were clouds below. There was also a fine grid of lines on the image with numbers at the edge. As the view zoomed down it found a gap in the clouds. Eventually a pattern of waves became visible and then a sprinkling of dark grey dashes in the water. At the highest magnification the dashes were tiny streamlined shapes. When they broke through the surface there was just enough white around them to tell they splashed up foam. They would show white around one and then it went under again. It would still be visible from above, but the image blurred a little. One could presume because it dropped beneath the surface a bit.
"How big are those?" Gordon asked.
"Thirty-five meters average," Fenton said. "A few small ones that might be young, or the sexes might be radically different in size. They only show as breaching the surface three or four meters on radar. We haven't seen one jump out of the water like Earth whales."
"Earth whales jump out of the water?" Gordon asked, clearly surprised, making an appropriate gesture with his true hand cupped.
"Indeed they do, although these are about half again as big as most Earth whales. But on Earth whales occasionally jump out of the water unaware and land across a small boat. It doesn't do the whale or the boat, either one, a whole lot of good."
"As we mentioned a couple shifts back, we don't want to land any sort of shuttle until we know more. Seeing these, that now means until we're sure something bigger than the shuttle isn't going to playfully jump on it, or pull it under. We'll put that in our reports for sure," Gordon said.
"There was one area where we had three bumps sticking up out of the water," Fenton said. "They were approximately round and about a meter and a half high in the middle. We'd have missed them in the background variations if it wasn't a fairly calm area, but there was cloud cover so we couldn't eyeball them. I'm hoping we can turn the telescope on them in another local day or two."
"What is different about those? They don't go back under like the whale thingies?" Gordon asked.
"No they stay up, and as close as we can resolve with the radar they are at the points of a triangle with equal sides," Fenton said, his eyebrows said he found that significant.
"Ah, so you think they are artificial?" Gordon guessed.
"It seems at least possible," Fenton agreed.
"Keep surveying, noting any changes in particular," Gordon ordered. "We'll examine the material you've given us. I'm going to send the Sharp Claws off, she isn't needed for escort now in my opinion. The Dart can go along if they wish, to examine the other planets in the system in more detail since we'll be here a few days. We'll hold another meeting when we both start a new shift. Meanwhile I'd like the various engineers to make suggestions to Mr. Ellis on the Retribution about what sort of a soft lander we can construct. They have the biggest fabbers and the most material. I want something that can be finished in a day or two, not a week-long project."
"Aye sir," Fenton agreed. "We'll keep updating the data as we get it as well as summarizing it when we have another meeting."
"That's fine," Gordon agreed. "It's always good to keep running backups."
That nudged Fenton's paranoia again. What did Gordon think might happen to them?
Chapter 5
Gordon had the Sharp Claws safely away, the Dart agreeing to accompany them. He studied the data from the world, sending a copy to Lee's and Thor's boards without discussing it out loud on the bridge.
Lee suggested they use a balloon after a parachute to drop it slowly. When it was low enough to drop the last couple meters, the balloon would be cut loose. After it lifted clear the hydrogen would be ignited to destroy it. Thor suggested they not drop any technology they didn't want to give to unknown sapients. At a minimum he suggested enclosing all critical items such as electronics in a sealed container with a non-explosive self destruct. A thermite compound should do the trick.
That made sense to Gordon and he swapped the suggestions to each of them without telling them the source to prejudice them. Both endorsed the other's ideas. He forwarded them to engineering and added his own idea to use the tanks from filling the balloon as float pontoons once empty. Again he didn't identify the sources so nobody would feel constrained from criticizing an idea because it was from the commander or rejecting one because they didn't like Thor. It never occurred to him that anyone might not like Lee.
After reviewing the collected data Gordon asked Lee and Thor, "See any reason not to put this project on the fleet web for anybody who is interested?"
"Not at all," Thor said. "It's going to be a greenie in everybody's ear. It may be a long time before it puts money in their pocket, but we're not exactly going home broke."
"I see no harm," Lee agreed. "Most will just listen to a news summary channel and skip wading through the whole thing. They're too tired after their shift or busy meeting up for poker."
"And it's posted... " Gordon said, as soon as he touched the key. "I'm off for some lunch. You have the conn, Thor. Can I have them send you anything?"
"I have the conn," Thor acknowledged. "I'll order direct. I haven't looked at what they already made today. I hate to make extra work for them with a custom order if the special of the day sounds good."
"I'd like to tag along if you aren't meeting somebody," Lee said.
"I'm meeting you," Gordon said, unlatching the belts they all kept loosely engaged at stations.
* * *
Lee grabbed two pre-made cold sandwiches. They had a bit of green hanging out of them, a luxury from their experimental gardens. Nobody had tried growing even limited fresh food on a ship for some years. An unusually long voyage seemed a good time to try again. The equipment had improved. The little bit of crunch was a huge boost to morale.
Gordon took two of the large submarine sandwiches, adding enough mayonnaise to the cold one to make it drip, and sufficient hot mustard to the hot one that it would be inedible to Lee. That and another big mug of coffee was a light lunch for him.
"What do they want to measure with a soft lander?" Lee asked. She had to wait for Gordon to swallow. It looked like it was a four bite sandwich.
"The salts present in the water is the biggie. They'll boil off the water on a heated pan and then vaporize the residue with a laser. That will give them the relative abundance of various elements," Gordon said. "That is a start at understanding both what the core down under the water may be like and what biological processes are possible living in that water."
"What about retrieving an actual sample?" Lee said.
"I've seen a couple proposals. All of them risk a shuttle crew, and I'm not going to do that."
"How did they want to do it?" Lee said. She seemed very interested.
"One proposed dipping a small sample with a scoop at the end of a long line. The shuttle would have to go far lower and slower than I can accept," Gordon said. "The other idea was to drop a modified anti-missile missile as part of the soft lander. A very small sample could be pumped aboard. With the weight of the warhead and guidance electronics removed it could achieve a low orbit by remote control."
"I'm betting if there is anybody down there, thinking creatures that is, you don't want to light a rocket off in their face. That's almost as bad as setting of a charge to check the depth," Lee said. "I think the thermite destruct charge is pretty risky too."
"Worse," Gordon told her. "If there is any intelligent life down there I don't want to send them a very sophisticated missile to reverse engineer. Even without a warhead."
"But we're going to recover it," Lee objected.
"We would intend to recover it," Gordon corrected. "What happens when something gets bumped too hard or gets wet, or our brilliant engineers don't get a wire connected tight, and it doesn't fire? Also it has to float there long enough to pump water into the rocket and the testing chamber to be boiled off and laser vaporized. It makes me nervous. What if some huge thing like we've seen decides to swallow it? "
"We've got good guys and military grade hardware," Lee argued. "I'd bet on an alien submarine snatching it before a mechanical failure."
"Even worse!" Gordon agreed. But he smiled.
"How about this? You can fill a small tank with a sample of the sea water, and loft it with a balloon up to where a shuttle can snatch it out of mid-air? I looked on the net-fraction and they did that with airplanes years and years ago," Lee said. "They grabbed the line under the balloon."
"Ah-ha! I thought you had some idea to propose," Gordon said. "You do like balloons don't you? How would we snatch it in mid-air? Our shuttles don't hover well. The exhaust tends to vaporize anything they would stream behind them on a line. We are not hanging a crewman out the lock with a pole and hook. Not even near stall speed. I don't like the idea of our shuttle deliberately trying to run into something in the air. Pilots go to a great deal of trouble not to do that. I'm not even sure I'd want to give strange sapients the idea how to make balloons."
Lee frowned. "I'll try to think of something else. The airplanes put a big 'Y' shaped thing on the nose, but engineering wouldn't even talk to me about putting one on a shuttle. He said no and then no, and then he got rude. And anyway, a guy in the lock would have a safety line on!"
Gordon just rolled his eyes.
* * *
"We can have it ready by the middle of next shift," Jeremiah Ellis promised. He was head of engineering on the Retribution, which was best equipped to make the soft lander.
"That's fine," Gordon said, "but I couldn't sleep wondering if it was going to work. I don't want it to land until the main bridge crew is seated and can watch it live."
"Oh... what exactly do you want to be able to see?" Ellis asked.
"Cameras are cheap and rugged. Weren't you planning on streaming all kinds of video off this thing when it lands? As easy as it is, why not?" Gordon demanded.
Jeremiah looked a little embarrassed. "Well, we did have a request for a cam looking down in the water for fish or whatever. It'll have a light too, for a little more range. Then we have the data channel for the salt vaporizer and spectrograph. There will also be the usual meteorological instruments. I didn't think it would be of any interest to look at the top of the water. We already see that."
"OK, small change of plans with that," Gordon informed him. "We want three wide angle cameras on the outer edge of the lander looking in, so they observe both the top of the lander from each side and the water behind the other camera. We want enough angle in the view we have full coverage all the way around the horizon. If that's too hard to do with what you have, bump it up to four cameras. Any problem with that?"
"No sir. We'll have cameras on the perimeter looking in and across each other. I'm sending the design changes to the team as we speak," Jeremiah promised.
"Has anybody asked for a microphone?" Lee asked.
Jeremiah Ellis looked stricken. Or perhaps unbelieving. "What would you want it to pick up? The sound of the wind or if there are birds too small for us to see?"
"No. I'd be surprised if there are birds. Where would they land? How would they raise young until they were old enough to fly? I suppose they could carry their young, but how would they have gotten a start, unless perhaps there used to be land? I was interested in a microphone for the water. On Earth and Derfhome all sorts of animals in the ocean make noises. Water carries sound better than air."
"Oh, you want a hydrophone," Jeremiah said. “Sure we can do that. If we don't have one I'm sure we have a design for one or can convert a regular microphone.”
"Good. That way if there's nothing where the thing lands we may at least hear it," Lee said.
"Any other requests?" Jeremiah asked. He looked like he might be afraid of the answer.
"Not from me," Gordon said. "Just in case nobody has told the team, we'll want it to splash down near the three odd bumps in the water."
"Of course," Jeremiah said.
* * *
The scientist whose name was a long genealogy to put Gordon's true name to shame for length was setting up another 'burn'. His associates called him Pretty Purple for short. As often happens the nickname embarrassed him, but stuck. His co-workers and friends understood it meant the bioluminescent spots on his hide had a particularly pleasant hue in the purple phase. It also was very appealing to the females of his species. They often gave a little involuntary pink flash of appreciation, which in turn made him flash a little yellow pulse that was the equivalent of a human blush.
It was an honor and the peak of his career to work in the world's premier materials lab, the only one running three gas chambers protruding through the top of the sky into the heavens. It could be dangerous. Early workers had received some nasty burns trying to observe the electric arc directly. Some got careless about staying wet. Protocol now was for an assistant to count off time and douse the researcher with water at regular intervals. If left to their own devices the researchers tended to be absorbed in their work and lose all track of time. To the point it was a stereotype now.
The chambers were a vast improvement on the previous platforms that were simply a floating collar defining a port on the heavens. For reasons nobody had yet explained, sometimes the light from the sun diminished and actual water descended from the heavens. But nasty pure water lacking all the elements of life. Indeed if one stayed in contact too long it irritated the skin. Just one more hazard.
Obviously, if one was running an electric arc to test and alter materials, water falling on the experiment at random from above was disruptive if not catastrophic. The sealed environment had its own challenges. Workers found that the thin substance of the heavens expanded when heated by their experiments. After the first isolation cell burst they invented the pressure relief valve. To avoid a long dangling tube filled with heaven stuff keeping the cell inflated they had invented the water lock. Life-sustaining water was pumped in between sealing doors that could be opened in sequence to pass traffic while keeping the cell inflated with heavenly gases.
To stay wet, workers and assistants worked in a pool lowered from the entry door. Even then water slowly lost the ability to sustain life. So time in the bubble was limited. The newest bubble had pumps not only for the water lock, but to exchange water in the bubble for fresh from below. It was exciting to work with the cutting edge high tech gear every day.
The intense heat of the furnace reduced almost all organisms to the black element of life. That it was also conductive amazed and delighted them. Some substances, such as the silty bottom from various sites, altered to a hard but brittle substance when heated. Those were not conductors. Other minerals when heated with the black element of life yielded malleable materials. They tended to corrode, but both kinds showed great promise for making things.
Some were quite strong if only they could be made not to corrode away like the prized bright yellow nuggets or the silvery grey ones found naturally. Pretty Purple had rings of both displayed on his longer tentacles. He was paid pretty well. Other materials showed less promise for now. Some of the yellow deposits from around the deep vents stank so bad when heated that the cell in use had to be abandoned for some days. The researchers doing that burn had to flee and the arc was disconnected remotely at the generators.
Pretty Purple's older brother held his work in derision. Rippling Dots was his unfortunate childhood name. He no longer had problems controlling his enthusiasm. Indeed he had turned absolutely solemn after being selected to the priesthood as the eldest child. He reveled in the privilege of the religious vocation. Pretty Purple was relieved beyond measure that he had escaped it by being younger.
Rippling Dots was currently babbling at him every time they met about strange new lights in the heavens. That they didn't follow the rules any previous lights did, failed to impress Pretty Purple. They were still just lights above the sky. The idea that they had any influence on his life was something he rejected, although he didn't make too big a point of saying so. The priesthood had many followers and much influence.
When his brother went on a long complicated rant about how his success or failure followed the small moon twenty day cycle or the four hundred day solar cycle, or some multiple or division of them, he just flickered a faint mauve show of interest. Believers saw patterns everywhere whether there really were any or not. There was never any shortage of numbers to apply, after all.
The crucible was packed with an interesting green mineral and life stuff. He'd recently been experimenting with adding the salt extracted from the water of life. It would be a tenth-day before his assistants got the generators all hooked up and up to temperature. So he left the electrodes unhooked and went off for a midday meal before the day's burn. There had been some red stripe swimmers in the lunch pen yesterday. He hoped maybe a few were left.
* * *
"Gordon everybody wants to see this thing splash down. I suggest you put it on the fleet net and allow anybody to watch who won't compromise safety by doing so," Lee said.
"I don't get it," Gordon said, "but if that's how they feel, fine. Put it up live."
"You didn't want it dropped while you were off shift sleeping," Thor pointed out.
"Yeah, but we helped plan and design it," Gordon said. " I understand Engineering wanting to see it. They built it. I guess I should be happy everybody is taking such an interest. Chances are it will go – splash – sit for a few minutes and radio us some data. It's hardly going to be a classic like the moon landing. Then everybody can go back to work or their poker game. How long until the shuttle drops it and then it gets to the water?"
"We're eleven minutes out from the drop," Brownie said. "You told the shuttle crew absolutely no going under twenty thousand meters. That means the package will free fall for quite a ways. They are planning on a drogue chute at five thousand meters and the balloon joining it at two thousand meters. The chute will be manually cut loose when the balloon shows some lift. We'll be controlling the inflation and sink rate to try to drop it near those three bumps. Call it a ten minute descent."
"Fine, put it on net-wide broadcast, but I don't want to hear of environmental dropping out of specs or the biscuits being burned again, because somebody was staring at the screen," Gordon snipped.
"The biscuits were, uh, interesting, but edible," Captain Fenton responded. "For some reason the ship's company likes to harass the cook. Damned if I know why, it seems dangerous to me to mess with the fellow who makes your meals. The firm biscuits made us appreciate what long sea voyages with hard bread out of a barrel must have been like."
"OK, the lander is streaming to general net access. It will be a black screen until the cover blows off," Brownie told them. "We have three wide angle cams looking across the top of the lander. The rectangular boxes sticking up near the very edge of the view in each channel are the other cams. We also have a cam looking straight up and one looking straight down. That will be illuminated."
There wasn't any conversation after that, just quiet anticipation.
"Shuttle has braked subsonic at twenty one thousand meters. Engines at minimum idle. On a clean glide to release point upwind of the triangle," Brownie reported. "Clean separation. Engines coming off idle fine. Shuttle climbing back out. They expect to be back docking in about two hours."
After a few minutes the view suddenly was bright, with the sections of the hard cover blown off fluttering off above the lander, quickly left behind. There was a few lines of high altitude ice clouds above. The view rocked a little and then stabilized. It was just starting to get boring when the drogue chute was explosively ejected. It filled perfectly and jerked the lander around. You could see sky through the open form of it. It was a web more than a canopy. Then the balloon popped up behind it pretty quickly and the chute drooped around the line running up to the balloon. The balloon wasn't very full. It looked more like a ball in a sock than a child's party balloon.
"We're going to get quite close to those domes or bumps," Brownie said. "We had good Doppler data on the wind and we should hit within a kilometer."
The lander swung back and forth a little under the balloon. You could see the hydrogen tube running up to it on one of the support lines. There was a dark shape at the end of the hose that was a vent valve. The cameras looking across the top of the lander showed the support lines and hose in the middle of each view. The lander tipped far enough they caught a glimpse of the horizon a few times. The three domes were in the view of the bottom cam coming closer swiftly. You could see a bit of texture to the water now, but it really wasn't rough.
"Crud... we wanted to get close," Brownie said. "But I'm afraid we might hit that nearest dome. I'm giving it a bit more gas. Better to come down between them than to land on one."
The rush to the surface slowed a little. The dome they were in danger of hitting slid off the edge of the camera view first, then the other two also. There were dark shapes in the water which provoked a murmur of interest on the bridge. With the zooming action it was hard to focus on the details. When the lander was a mere two meters from the water, the connector parted and dropped it.
The top camera showed the balloon, suddenly unburdened, race away, pretty much straight up. The view also had a halo of droplets from the splash of the lander hitting. When it was fifty or so meters overhead there was a bright spark of an igniter, and the balloon disappeared in a ball of flame. The hydrogen burned almost invisibly, but the film of the balloon had accelerants added and gave an orange flash as it burned. It was gone and a few sooty wisps were all that remained almost before the splash had finished falling.
The three cams looking across the top were splashed with water. The lander went below the surface briefly, foam racing in from the edges, but bobbed back. The lenses repelled water so they cleared quickly of all but a few pinpoints of water. The one dome was prominent in one cam view, the other two more distant in the other direction. A mixed cheer of hoots and laughter erupted on com. Gordon didn't reprove them.
* * *
Pretty Purple was thinking about lunch and what the new mineral might yield when there was an ungodly splash and something bizarre crashed through the sky into his world in a shower of bubbles. It bobbed back up to the surface quickly, as buoyant as his work cells. His world had dangers. Credit had to be given that he rushed forward into the unknown instead of fleeing. The bottom of this surprise had cylindrical shapes that shouted intelligent fabrication. There was a light shining down with a greenish cast to it and the curved circle of clear material next to it that had to be an eye of some sort. It was as rigid and as round as any shelled mud dweller. But bigger than any he'd ever seen. It was still much smaller than his own width and not streamlined at all. He instantly rejected it as a living creature. Now that it was in the water it didn't try to move at all. He reached it and started an examination.
* * *
The cheer cut off abruptly to shocked silence. There was a huge eye looking straight in the camera and it moved in until it filled the whole view, with barely the edges showing. Then a delicate tentacle tip explored the surface of the lens, too close to be in focus so it was blurred.
Another tentacle slid over the edge of the lander above the water and felt tentatively around one of the cameras. It wrapped around it, a good solid double-wrap grip, and tested the lander for stability, rocking it back and forth. It was strong. Another tentacle threaded across the center of the lander and kept playing out, thicker as it kept coming wrapping around the entire lander. When the section across the middle was near a half meter thick it tightened and the cameras showed the water closing over the topside. When the water closed over the antenna it cut off the data transfer.
"Sir, did you see? The rings on that tentacle!" Jon Burris their com tech said. He looked shocked.
"Yeah I noticed those too," Gordon said. "They looked like gold. So they have metal working." He frowned and thought about it a bit. "I saw double rows of suckers, I guess they fit between and the suckers keep the ring from slipping off."
"I'm really, really glad we don't have an ocean capable lander," Lee said. "I'd have pestered you to be on it. That thing is big. It might decide to snatch a lander and take it home to investigate too."
"Yep, I'm looking at the shapes in the water just before it landed," Brownie said. "Some of those long shapes with a fan behind then must be what we just saw. They're longer than our landing shuttles."
"You're wrong, Gordon. This is going to be a classic video for the ages," Thor informed him.
"Did we get any data for the salts?" Gordon asked. "It didn't have time to boil off, did it?"
"No, but Lee's hydrophone got almost a minute of data before it was pulled under," Burris said.
"Let's hear it," Gordon asked.
It was chaos. The hiss of bubbles dissipating from the splashdown and then a cacophony of clicks, whistles, moans and almost musical tones all overlapping and out of time with each other.
"Well that's an unholy racket," Thor said.
"I'm a city boy," Ames in engineering said on the command circuit. "If you are walking down the street in Chicago you can hear the traffic going by, the distant sounds of a helicopter and maybe music from a store. There may be a police siren in the distance or the rattle of the commuter train going along. You get noise from construction work and airplanes. But if you live there it all filters out. If you ask a native what he heard on the walk over he won't remember hearing anything."
"What are we going to do?" Thor asked, looking at Gordon.
"We could waste months here and accomplish nothing significant," Gordon said. "We'll send a team back equipped to deal with this environment. They will be sure to have some sort of lander that is big enough to be safe, and the right sort of equipment, like some underwater drones."
"Maybe some dolphins," Jon Burris speculated. "It would be a real project to haul them, but it's their sort of environment. If it isn't toxic to them," he added on reflection.
"Our Caterpillar friends have finally joined us, although they're keeping their distance," Brownie said. "I wonder what they make of us stopping? We have no idea if they value water worlds."
"Send them the video off the probe," Gordon ordered. "If they haven't decoded it they will eventually, and we know they can extract some still shots. They may find the natives interesting. They are as different from them as we are."
"Perhaps I can make a tutorial," Jon Burris said. "We might show them a very simple screen. Say four pixels, and an object beside it. Then keep increasing the definition until it is obvious how the pixels build an image."
"You'd send an actual screen over to them?" Gordon asked.
"Yeah. They've had a ship inside," Jon reminded them. "I doubt a slow approach would upset them. I can't believe their brains are so different at processing images they can't view a screen. They don't have faceted eyes like a bug or anything that weird. I don't know what the problem is."
"Work it up," Gordon decided. "We may not be able to take it across in this system. Once the Sharp Claws and Dart get done with their survey we're going to set out for the next system. If they keep tagging along we'll send it over when you have it working."
After that, the rest of their shift was anticlimactic. Nothing interesting happened. A few people watched the landing again on their screens. Since nothing got neglected Gordon ignored it.
Chapter 6
"The Sharp Claws and Dart report they have sufficient reserves and don't need to refuel," Brownie told Gordon. "Einstein on the Sharp Claws reported a star on our general vector which is unusually dim, but it is well within jump range. Ernie Goddard, our amateur astrophysicist, got excited about it too because it has an odd spectrum. Is that suitable as a jump target?"
"Sure, anything different might be valuable. Work the numbers up and get everybody coordinated. Time jump so we're back in the seat after the next shift," Gordon ordered.
"Oh, and Mr. Hadak decided on a name for the world," Brownie informed him. "He wishes it to be known as Ocean."
Gordon shrugged. "Seems sort of trite, but it's accurate. At least it will tell future travelers what to expect. Log it and inform him, please."
"Whatever it is on the registry the inhabitants probably have a name for it that can be used too," Thor predicted. "Unless they just call it the World. At least he didn't pick Hadak's World."
* * *
Pretty Purple held on to the strange hard device and called to his assistants. "Something else smaller fell from above after this," he told One Dot Red. "Go straight down and look for something hard about a tenth of a standard across. It may be embedded in the muck but not so deep you can't get an echo off it." It was the vent valve but he didn't know that. The device was warmer now and the light on the bottom went out quickly when he pulled it under.
"Deep Yellow, the old work cell built on top of the floating collar can have the floor removed with a little work. Get it emptied out and the equipment in it moved to the cell I was using today. Use whoever you need to help. Keep the floor handy though. This thing will fit up through the collar and we can replace the floor under it. If we allow a little water inside it floats and won't weigh the floor down and rip it."
"It floats?" Deep Yellow asked. Pretty Purple was holding it about a standard length under the heavens. Close to a meter oddly enough.
"If I let go of it. It's hard enough to hold down now. I don't want to take it deeper. I suspect if it was made to float it may be damaged at any real depth."
"Made... " Deep Yellow said in wonder, staring at it. He was pretty bright. Pretty Purple was sure his mind was racing with all the implications of such a complex made thing.
"I found it. I claim ownership by right of finding," Pretty Purple said formally. "I do not abandon ownership if I leave it behind in my work cell. I shall inform everyone I meet of this for the customary full three days. Unless One Dot Red contests it, I claim the piece he is hunting. I directed him to it, so I have at least shares by the Law of the Hunt."
"I witness that," Deep Yellow agreed.
"Go ahead," Pretty Purple ordered. "I'll follow as fast as I can holding this. Then we'll examine it a bit when it is safely housed."
Lunch was forgotten.
* * *
The star did have an odd spectrum. Gordon had seen the report, but it wasn't obvious to the eye. It was whiter than Earth or Derfhome's stars, but not so hot it was into the blue. It did however have interesting spectral lines. It showed metals when they should not be so prominent.
If you had to describe the system the best word might be cluttered. There were three huge gas giants well spaced from each other and nothing visible near the star where they were used to finding at least one or two rocky planets. The main bridge crew lingered an extra half hour before yielding the comm to the beta crew, fascinated by the system. The bridge was double crewed for a bit with two waiting in the mess because there wasn't room to even stand.
One gas giant had at least forty-seven moons they could see with their small telescope and a couple of those had their own satellites. There did not appear to be anything you would call an asteroid belt anywhere in the system. It was all swept clean and concentrated around the three giants.
"How can so many objects be stable?" Brownie objected.
"I suspect if you looked back a couple billion years it wasn't stable," Ernie Goddard said. "I'd bet anything there were a lot more objects, and they took that long to sort out, combine and stabilize. It may not be as stable as you think. In another billion years I bet you'll see further consolidation."
"I'm shocked it's stable on a much shorter time frame," Brownie admitted.
"Count me suspicious," Jon Burris said. "But I bet these three gas giants would add up to the mass of a brown dwarf if they had formed a little differently as one object. I'd like to know if this system is on a line or arc with the previous brown dwarfs we found."
Ernie fixed Jon with a piercing gaze. "If you say it's obvious I'm going to flush myself out the airlock as a waste of space, damn it. Why didn't you become an astrophysicist?"
"I'd never fit in the academic life," Jon said, apparently serious. "You notice we have no real trained astrophysicists along? They are too busy writing for grants and publishing their fantasies to come along and see the real stuff. We'd have asked them to wash dishes or change filters between observations. You know – get their dainty hands dirty. When we go back they will all contradict any observations we have made and call us uneducated dilettantes. But they'll offer to go set things right if only the government will drop two or three trillion on a proper expedition that includes conveying them in comfort. Besides, I look silly in tweeds and a bow tie."
Gordon wondered what had turned him against the ivory tower crowd so strongly, but right now was probably not the right time to try to coax it out.
"As interesting as this is, it will all still be here when we are rested and switch bridge crews again. Meanwhile, enjoy the survey," Gordon said. "I'd like The Champion William sent to the far gas giant, and the Sharp Claws to the other. We'll examine the closer one. Send the Dart for a sweep through the far end of the system.” The Dart was a fast courier but flew along with them and jumped independently. The Badgers built fast couriers bigger than humans so it wasn't carried grappled.
* * *
The huge alien ship shadowing them returned not long after the main bridge crew went to bed. It was on a course to rendezvous with the fleet, but when the Dart took off to do a far loop of the system it changed course and was obviously going to accompany it. Captain Fussy decided to test the alien; they knew it could out-accelerate them, but they'd never shown it a fleet acceleration over two G. He took off for a loop around the star at five G.
It burned a little extra fuel and seemed to not surprise the alien at all. They didn't lag or send out another of their incomprehensible transmissions. It kept up with no problem. It was bizarre that it has to out-mass their entire fleet and was faster than the fast courier. After three hours Fussy decided the stress on the crew was enough and cut back to a G. The alien adjusted to that too.
* * *
"The Caterpillars are following the Dart around the star," Vigilant Botrel, the alter-shift commander, informed Gordon at shift change. "We have a lot of satellites confirmed, but probably won't be here long enough to get very good numbers for orbital periods. Whoever comes in after us will just have an approximation. I wasn't sure if the survey data was general release?"
"Yeah, why not?" Gordon allowed. "The power is still on and somebody made breakfast even though the video of the water lander must have had a thousand replays. If anybody is interested enough to sit and read all the astronomical observations let them. Nobody seems to be neglecting duty to browse the stuff. Who knows, maybe somebody will see something useful. Thank you, Mr. Botrel. I have the conn," Gordon said, which dismissed him.
Lee didn't say anything, but was pleased. She didn't see any point in being secretive. She'd have said that, if she could figure out how to say it without implying she was unhappy before the change. She didn't really remember being unhappy. It just felt right when Gordon loosened up.
"Burris, do you have that screen tutorial ready to present? Not that we have any Caterpillars to send it over to. But one assumes they're coming back," Gordon said.
"I do. I'd like to show it to you, to the bridge crew really," Jon said, "and see what you think."
"Put it on the full command channel, but give us a few minutes. I can tell Brownie and Thor are still sorting things out," Gordon said, "probably others too."
It was almost a half hour before those two finished business. Lee assumed they sent a private message to Gordon's board since neither spoke up. Gordon told Jon to proceed. He stood and faced them from his work station rather than just send it to their screens.
"Just making this up made me think a little more about how we see images. I want to show you an image without revealing its nature first. I'll send it to your screen at increasingly fine resolutions. I want you to signal me any time you know what it is. Wait to actually name it though, until others have had a chance to recognize it.
"Keep in mind most of our board displays here show eight thousand by four thousand, five hundred pixels. Which is thirty-six million total. None of us have the visual acuity to find the images grainy on so small a screen. There is no reason to make them run at a higher resolution until we get to a much bigger display. Some bigger displays will be bumped up to quadruple that pixel count, but other smaller things like phones use less.
"But how many pixels does your brain need to recognize something? And how fast should they be displayed to make video look smooth and believable? You may be surprised to know that most video software was updated to refresh at a hundred twenty times a second from a standard eighty when we started selling gear to the Hinth, like Ha-bob-bob-brie here. Their visual perception is much different.
"It was hard to pick an image for an example with which I thought all of you would be familiar. But I think this is well known, not just to humans. I'll start at ten by ten pixels. Tell me when you recognize it, please." The image was in black and white, grey-scale. Jon waited a few seconds and let them look at it before he moved on.
"Here it is fifteen by fifteen," Jon said. There still wasn't any reaction.
"This is twenty by twenty pixels.” Lee frowned at it and tentatively raised her hand.
"I think I know what it is," Lee said, "but not the, uh, specific one."
Jon smiled and offered her a note pad with a pen clipped to it. "Write it down please."
"This is at twenty-five pixels square," Jon said.
"Oh, yeah" Thor said, Luke and Alex Hillerman all chimed in they knew it. Lee said she had it too, and was adding it to the note.
"Thirty pixels square," Jon said, changing it again.
"I should have called it last time, but I was being cautious," Gordon said. "If anybody doesn't recognize it now they're probably not familiar with the image."
A few more changes proved him right. Brownie said, "It's an old human having a really bad hair day. He looks kind of distracted. But I swear I've never seen him before."
"The fellow is named Einstein, and most people know him because he turned physics in a new direction from simple mechanics," Jon supplied to those unaware. "Without him we would have never examined things that led to star travel. This is the image we were building toward," Jon said. He shared a full high definition photo that showed every hair of the man's wild mane.
"I know the name, and his work, but if I ever saw the image I forgot it," Brownie claimed.
"My original thought was to show the Caterpillars two images side by side, the high definition one and let them see it built up like I was showing you. But I'm not sure that gets around the problem if there is a basic difference in how we perceive images. Since we are physically delivering the screens to them it occurred to me I can show them a real object, and then build the image for them. Like this…”
He showed a 3D printed bust of Gordon on a pedestal. It was so real it was creepy. They got the coloring just right too. The view panned back and he had two screens as before, but the bust rotated on the pedestal and the one image rotated in time. The second screen started at two pixels and then built in definition slowly as the bust turned until it matched the full definition screen.
"What do you think?" Jon asked them. "Do you think that will help them understand our video formats?"
"If they don't get it from that I'm not sure we can bridge the understanding gap," Thor said.
"Yes, it's pretty clear to any of us, to any of the races we know. Go ahead, give it a try," Gordon agreed.
"I have a suggestion," Lee told them. "This is all display. Send them a video camera too. I bet they can reverse engineer stuff better than we can too."
Jon stood staring at Lee like he'd bitten something rotten.
"What? Is that stupid somehow?" Lee demanded.
"No, it's not stupid at all. It just changes how I'm going to have to do it completely. I'll send the physical bust, but with a camera pointed at it running to show on the first display instead of a recording. And a camera sitting to the side not running they can take apart. Plus the buildup of pixels too, so they understand that concept for sure. But this is much better. Thank you," Jon said.
Lee almost said it was obvious, but then she remembered Ernie and Jon. She just nodded.
* * *
"Gordon, I'd like permission to make a few shuttle landings on the moons that display the higher density and have interesting surface features," Captain Fenton of The Champion William requested. He was some light hours out already, but word would still catch up to him before he was at the far gas giant.
"As long as they're airless," Gordon granted. "If any of us want to land on one with an atmosphere I want us all to talk about it. Us and engineering. These shuttles aren't rated for exotic atmospheres." He sent the message off after him.
"When the preliminary work is done surveying these gas giant groups everybody should take the opportunity to fuel up," Gordon ordered. "Issue a memo on that, Brownie."
"Aye sir. A thought," Brownie volunteered. "Could a fuel scooping drone be used to sample one of these shallower atmospheres such as these moons hold?"
"Ask the fellows who service them," Gordon told him.
"You know, we have some small short range electric drones aboard. I'd have to check inventory to see where they are stashed, but I saw my dad use one when we discovered Providence," Lee told them. "But next time we go exploring I want some drones that will land on a surface where we don't want to risk crew, and something we can drop in the oceans, like we needed at the last world. Even on the water worlds with some land, like we expect, we could use those. When we turned in our claim on Providence we had almost no data on the oceans. Something like a miniature submarine."
"If you check when we get back I bet they make them commercially for oceanographers and people like fish farmers. It always costs more to reinvent the wheel," Ames from engineering told her. "Maybe a floater like we tried and a submersible to release. The float could have an antennae to relay the data the submersible gathers."
"How would it get from the mobile unit to the floating one?" Lee wondered.
"I think the ones they use for inspection and such use an optic fiber trailing along behind," Ames said. "I know for a fact that torpedoes used to be wire controlled."
"OK, thanks. One more thing to do when we get back," Lee said.
* * *
"The survey on all three gas giants is similar. I guess I should say the survey on their satellites," Brownie corrected himself. "We do see a little difference between these gas giants and the usual sort we find. They definitely tend to more elements of medium atomic number. The composition of the satellites is also skewed toward certain elements. They aren't lacking in metals, although not as rich as the brown dwarf systems we found. Ernie says they approximate the ratios you'd expect by boiling point more than atomic number. He's trying to compose an explanation of how they could have formed based on the idea Jon had of condensation from the wave front of a nova."
"What does it mean in practical terms?" Thor asked.
"There's a lot more rare earths than radioactives like we found around the brown dwarfs. A lot more aluminum. You'd think less indium and gallium, but apparently alloying with the aluminum keeps them high. So it's just a general rule with exceptions like that. Ernie says it's because the whole system started with different ratios of elements, but then the process of the system forming changed the mix in ways differently than how far it was from the Nova. Which would be true here or around the brown dwarfs we saw. That process could be pretty complex and we need to figure it out too.
"There's noticeably more krypton than argon, way more xenon. More iodine but about the same bromine. Less silver but still quite a bit of other metals. Not near as much silicon as Earth, oddly. Lots of carbon, lots of oxygen. It will mean there'll be more things like sulfur and phosphorus, that are key to biologicals and chemical processing. But Ernie isn't sure if they'll be where we can get to them and extract them. It should be easier to build a space dwelling civilization here than around a brown dwarf. Maybe easier than most systems that have living planets.
"Since some of the heavier elements tend to be toxic it is likely to be an easier environment to live in than on satellites around a brown dwarf. You aren't going to have to worry as much about nasty things leaching from tunnel walls or dust brought in on your suit."
"But less money to be made in mining," Thor predicted.
"Yes, but a better place to actually live as a self-sustaining community. The other systems are so rich in metals nobody is going to look to a system like this as a mining center. Not for centuries. There'll be local finds of high grade ore that are cheaper to exploit because they are local. Maybe even better than the Earth system or Derfhome. They won't have transport costs of bringing metals from a brown dwarf, even if they are closer to here than our home worlds. But we'd have been thrilled to find this system if we hadn't already found the brown dwarfs," Brownie pointed out.
"Yeah, just like Amber," Thor allowed, naming a planet they'd visited in the war. "You can have all the sulfur you want to load up with a front loader. Big plains of it pretty pure and hundreds of meters deep in spots, but there are still too many cheaper sources of it, even on Earth. On Derfhome they used to go into volcano craters and scrape it off the rocks. Now they cap the vents and get it from the gas. Well it's always good to have a plan 'B'. We'll still file a claim on it, won't we?" he asked Gordon.
"Absolutely," Gordon agreed. "It costs comparatively little to file and somebody may want to use the system for something within our lifetimes. A fueling station or just a small station to redistribute freight. There are a few here and there where routes between settled worlds cross."
"Well this is interesting," Brownie said, "Captain Ochocinco sent a text message directly instead of on the common channel. He says the Caterpillar ship skimmed through the atmosphere of the gas giant. Apparently they refuel directly like that instead of sending a scoop drone."
"Captain Ochocinco is very practical," Thor said. "Why send a voice transmission when he's so far away? We're not going to reply to it quickly with the lag we have now. I see no reason to reply to this at all. We haven't had a lot of chatting back and forth at a distance, but something that unusual I can see he'd want us to know, just in case he runs into something and doesn't make it back. It gets it on record and doesn't interrupt us if we're chatting on the channel locally."
"Send a memo to everybody, Brownie," Gordon decided. "All ships operating separately should send in text instead of voice when they are more than a light minute out."
"Aye, sir," Brownie agreed.
They collected a lot of data. One of the airless satellites the High Hopes investigated had a odd surface feature they could see from orbit. When they sent a shuttle down to it they found a bizarre forest of crystals and needles of tellurium minerals. When Thor asked about mining it they were horrified.
"That would be a crime," the shuttle pilot told them. "Look at the pix. It should be a park with severe penalties for disturbing any of it." The copilot just nodded agreement, looking upset.
Chapter 7
When the Dart returned, their alien companions the Caterpillars followed along and came to relative rest nearby. They beat The Champion William back although they'd traveled further. The Dart was much faster. After some consultation between commanders one of the shuttles from Retribution picked up Jon and his display. Lord Byron the XO was picked to fly the shuttle. He was overqualified, but they wanted some serious command experience dealing so intimately with the Caterpillars. Nobody was sure the Caterpillars would welcome them back aboard. The aliens had picked their guest last time and they might just ignore a shuttle. They'd simply go wait by the huge hatch where they'd been welcomed aboard before and hope the Caterpillars took the hint. The rest of them waited and watched while the shuttle took Jon and his equipment over.
Thor seemed irritated with the aliens and complained, "What is so difficult about getting them to basically draw a picture? Every other race we've dealt with has been able to draw a display using dots. We've all drawn pictures whether it was doodling in the mud with a stick or rubbing a burn stick on the cave wall. If they can build a ship like that how can they be oblivious to something so simple? If they paint a picture with dots it can't be that hard to change the format. We managed to do that with the Bunnies even though they use analog video."
Ernie Goddard made a rare comment from engineering. "Well in fairness, we used to use analog ourselves. We had both software and hardware designs in our archives from when the transition was made from one to the other. So it was easy to emulate their systems."
"Maybe they really think differently," Lee said; "maybe it's considered rude for all I know."
"Hah! A religious prohibition maybe? Any image might be an idol?" Vigilant asked on the com, although he was off shift. He must be staying up to see if they admitted the shuttle. "They did seem very interested in the pen that was demonstrated to them. Much more than the book in which it was used to write. Perhaps they have a different history of written language."
"There were symbols inside the Caterpillar hanger," Gordon said. "I remember seeing them on the recordings The Champion William gave us of their trading. Brownie, would you run through those images and isolate those showing the hatch they used to enter the hanger and also check the machine they traded to us for markers?"
"Aye sir, I have very high resolution stills of that machine too," Brownie volunteered.
"Is this what you have in mind?" he asked after a bit. He sent a mosaic of a couple images to their screens. One image showed the Caterpillars entering their hold. Beside the open doorway was a grid of squares. Most were blank but two showed what might be symbols. They were arches and dots similar to kanji.
"I noticed this though," Brownie said. He circled the same area in a picture showing them leaving the hold. The same area had symbols on the same squares. But different symbols.
"Perhaps that is a status display instead of a keypad," Thor suggested.
"Brownie, is there anything like that on the machine?" Lee wondered.
"I'm looking," he said. It was a few minutes before he replied. "There is an area where there is a grid of squares, but they don't have any symbols on them at all. He shared a close-up with them.
"Perhaps examine the squares other than visually?" Thor proposed. "They may show something in the ultraviolet or infrared outside out normal visual range. Without touching them of course. We're all agreed it shouldn't be probed until it is removed far from our primary ships. If anyone formulates a plan we can put it on a shuttle with a minimal crew and examine it a few thousand kilometers away. Assuming someone wishes to volunteer for hazardous duty. I'm not volunteering."
"Even probing them without touching could be hazardous," Gordon warned, "they might have some sort of proximity sensor. They might just wave a tentacle over a pad. Perhaps they sense magnetism or changes in capacitance. For all we know maybe they smell Caterpillars."
"Could you have somebody watch the entire recording and see if they ever reach toward the squares or point something at them?" Brownie asked.
"Sure ask all the commanders who has somebody free," Gordon agreed.
"They might have an electronic chip on the tentacles like the security or key cards some businesses use," Thor said. "It might be embedded or too small for us to see on video."
Everybody looked at him funny.
"Hey, after we saw gold rings on a tentacle nothing can surprise me!" Thor said.
"I'd volunteer to go do it my way, but not anybody else's plan," Lee said.
Gordon looked alarmed at that, but managed to ask in an almost normal voice, "And what plan would that be?"
"If the Caterpillars open the door and let us set up screens and show them how our video works then I imagine they'd do it again for us. I'd take the machine back over and let them show us how to use it," Lee said.
"How would you ask them since we can't talk yet?" Gordon said.
"I'd just walk around it and look clueless. Lean in and look at it from different sides. Maybe pick up the bag and set it back down a couple times. If they're anywhere near as smart as we think they are it should be obvious pretty soon that I have no idea at all what to do with the stupid thing. Say we gave them a can of self heating stew and they stood there fumbling around with it. It might look like a grenade to them for all we know.
"When they didn't know how to lift and pull the tab to open it or punch the dimple to start it heating, then I think we'd figure out they didn't get how it works pretty fast. Thor here would be pounding his console, yelling at them within a minute, two minutes tops, telling them to pull the damn tab and push the stupid dimple in!"
Gordon looked at Thor to see his reaction. "Probably," Thor admitted. "I'm not especially patient."
"You can also figure they're not going to let us blow the thing up, even if that's possible, right there inside their ship," Lee said.
"I can't find any fault in the reasoning," Thor admitted.
"Me either," Gordon said, "but I still want somebody else to do the walk around and look stupid."
"They won't do it as well as I would," Lee said.
"Perhaps not," Gordon agreed. "However, they only need to do it well enough."
* * *
To everyone's satisfaction, the shuttle was admitted into the alien ship. The hatch closing cut off all communications. Waiting while cut off like that was nerve racking, but at least the big ship didn't take off with the shuttle and crew. They might have taken an entry request as asking for another trip to the world they'd shown the crew of The Champion William before.
The big ship could have made its way home again from that far world. The shuttle didn't have jump capacity. They'd been instructed to not voluntarily leave the hold if taken to that far world. However, the Caterpillars had a sort of tug that could force a vessel to enter the hold. They'd seen a ship of the Biter aliens who had got aggressive with the Caterpillars taken that way. What they could force in they could force out. All that worry was for nothing. The Caterpillar ship stayed right on station.
Inside the hold Jon set up his displays and the rotating bust. He didn't wait to see if they provided atmosphere. He had everything lined up and connected before he noticed his suit going slack from external pressure. He didn't intend to retreat to the shuttle. The Caterpillars had grown to tolerate physical proximity of the humans before. However Jon was never one to make things needlessly difficult for himself. When he was through setting up he opened a folding chair and made himself comfortable to wait. When the shuttle crew assured him he had sufficient partial pressure of oxygen he opened his faceplate up but left the helmet on.
By the time the Caterpillars appeared Jon had stood and walked around a couple times, stiff from sitting. He also was hungry and starting to have his doubts they'd appear. They hadn't discussed what they'd do if they were allowed in but then ignored. He decided he'd leave the setup sitting running unless he was flat out ordered to bring it back. It would run several days on internal power. Perhaps even if they had to leave it would be inspected afterward.
The Caterpillars who entered looked exactly like the bunch on video. They might be the same, but they had yet to figure out distinguishing marks. There were six of them and only gross differences like the number of segments making up their length were obvious to Humans. The races they'd met that were similar to them, or the animals they were used to, seemed much easier to tell apart than these creatures. Perhaps the length of tentacles or the way they held them was distinctive – to them.
Jon put the screens facing away from the shuttle and halfway to the hold bulkhead so they came to it before him. He'd retreated slightly toward the shuttle before he opened his chair and sat. The aliens did a little dance around the line of equipment inspecting it, jockeying for position. Two of them went around the back side and did a walk past inspection. They spent a good half hour until each of them had looked every piece over and waved what had to be sensors and cameras over them before they got brave enough to touch. Once they did however the fine tentacles traced every detail and followed the cables they decided to use instead of wireless.
There was a bit of a stir and hooting when they found they could pivot the video camera on its mount. Several of them took a turn moving the camera. By the way the stood they were watching the resulting change in the images. That was encouraging. Jon had completely forgotten he was hungry.
When the hatch opened again it was some of their floating freight carriers. They came in with one alien on the first plate and the other following behind. They lined up closely in front of the equipment and all stood looking at him. It was so obvious Jon laughed. One picked up the camera and took it toward the plate as far as the cable would allow before setting it down. His fellows gabbled and hooted at him. Perhaps they were worried how delicate it might be.
Jon got up, careful not to move to quickly for fear of startling them. He went over and was pleased when the shorter Caterpillar that moved the camera stepped just out of his way but didn't retreat for the hatch or seem frightened. Jon flipped the locking lever and pulled the cable from the camera. Of course the display it was attached to went out and a wave of hoots and few whistles erupted. That was a new sound. He turned the cable toward the alien, showing him the contacts recessed in the connector.
The alien staying close was very brave and reached with one of the longer tentacles. He didn't reach inside and touch the pins however. He flipped the locking lever a few times and watched how it made a ridge close from each side of the connector housing.
"You're no dummy are you, guy?" Maybe it was silly to talk to him, but it felt right.
Jon demonstrated inserting the cable termination again and locking it. That got a few hoots when the screen lit back up. When he withdrew it this time he held it toward the alien in his open hand. One of the larger tentacles hovered over it and then he chickened out. Jon changed his grip on it, moving his hand down on the cable so the alien could avoid touching him. Even though he had suit gloves on apparently that was the problem.
The alien whipped a tentacle tip around the cable three or four turns and then wound a second layer back across the first turns. He pushed it in the receptacle and the camera started to tip. Jon shot a hand out quickly and kept it from tipping over. All of them froze at the sudden move and didn't make a single hoot for a heartbeat, then resumed as if nothing had happened. Jon withdrew his hand a lot slower. The alien thought about it a bit and switched tentacles, positioning the old one to support the camera and grasping the cable with the new one. He pushed it home right the first time and locked it like he'd done it a thousand times. Jon hadn't had such a thrill of discovery since he'd been a teenager.
"OK, I better show you this," Jon said, out loud. He pulled the cable out and tried to insert it flipped over. It wouldn't go in since it had a round-cornered trapezoid shape, both ends sloped the same direction. The alien didn't even try it, just waved a tentacle and gave a little hoot.
"Yeah, yeah that's obvious, huh? Don't mean to imply you're stupid." Jon pulled the cable again and took a step back. The alien wasn't stupid, but he was overly polite. He moved the pedestal and camera a little move towards the floating plate and sat it back down.
"That's why we brought it guys. Let's make clear we expect you to take it," Jon declared, and stepped up and lifted the assembly for him onto the work cart or whatever they called the thing. Once he did that the fellow trained on the cable showed the rest of them how they worked and they had all the pieces loaded up and ready to haul away in short order.
Jon wasn't sure what proper protocol might be so he just turned and walked away, folding his chair and heading for the shuttle lock. He finally remembered to be hungry too.
* * *
"You know, we could load up the alien machine and send it over on another shuttle," Lee said.
"Are you in a hurry for some reason?" Gordon asked.
"No more than usual," Lee said. "I just figured it a really big hold or hangar. It looked like it could hold four of The Champion William without crowding, much less another shuttle."
"We have no idea how it's going. I'm not going to interfere. We may learn things from them when they come out that will help present their machine back to them too," Gordon decided.
"I wonder where they got the bag of dirt?" Lee asked. "Did anybody run an analysis of the dirt to see if it is special?"
"Sending it to your screen," Brownie said. "It's sterile. Sand and the sort of mixed minerals you'd find on a water world from weathering. Not from a living world unless they went to a lot of trouble to clean it up."
"I wish we'd thought to get a bag of dirt off the Badgers' world. Then we could send that over with their bag too," Lee said. "Too late now."
"We still have a few landings scheduled on these moons while we wait," Brownie said. "We weren't quite ready to leave when the Dart and aliens got back. We have some samples from other landings, but just tiny pieces. I can have a landing party bring back a sack of loose debris if you like."
"Please. If they have something with a lot of one metal, something that's an ore," Lee requested.
* * *
"Wake up, Jon. They're coming back in," his com insisted loudly.
Jon muttered something that probably meant, "Yes, I'm getting up." He sat up, rubbed his face with both hands and sealed his soft boots up. He'd never taken them off and still had a suit liner on. He staggered into the head and relieved himself, considered dressing differently for the now pressurized hold, and decided Caterpillars had no idea about the difference between a suit liner and a ballroom gown.
"Ship – Connect me to the galley deck," he called loudly enough to reach from the head. "Would you have whoever is free bring a double espresso to the lock?" he asked. "I need the caffeine badly. And a com headset, please."
When he got to the lock the shuttle commander Lord Byron was waiting with the requested drink in hand, the radio headset in his other hand, and the inner door of the lock already open.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you, sir," Jon said, embarrassed.
"I happened to be in the galley and as free as anybody," Lord Byron said. "Don't worry about it, Mr. Burris. I'm not that full of myself yet."
"Thank you, sir."
His commander just nodded and didn't say anything about him wearing a suit liner.
He cycled out quickly since there wasn't that much of a pressure difference now. The Caterpillars were about where he'd set up his displays yesterday. There were six of them, just like yesterday. Jon took the chair from where he'd left it walking much closer to them than before. They shouldn't have any reason to be shy after yesterday. They had a load on the floaters, but not his stuff. This was going to be interesting.
Jon unfolded the chair and sat down, did a com check to make sure he was in touch with the shuttle, moved the mic to the side out of the way, took the cover off the cup, and had a sip.
One of the aliens was watching him rather than the others lifting items off the plates. It was hard to tell what interested him. You could tell which way their eyes were looking, but not as exactly as another human. Maybe that would come with experience. He had one of the devices they suspected was a camera in one tentacle and another instrument of some sort in another. He moved his head around a little, not just his eyes, watching Jon unfold the chair. Jon wondered if they had the concept of furniture at all? Perhaps they could stand for hours on end with so many legs. Jon had the sudden insight that with that many legs you could stand on a few and rest others.
Ah – they did have one of his pieces, the bust on a pedestal. They had even figured out how to switch the turntable on and off, because the fellow setting it up did that as Jon watched. They'd kept the camera and monitors however.
The Caterpillar who seemed assigned to watch him came up close, much bolder than yesterday. He seemed to be much twitchier about the tentacles, especially the small ones down lower. Jon assumed he had a mouth in there somewhere. He brought the other, unidentified, instrument up and tipped it right over Jon's coffee. Well, that was interesting. He appeared to be scanning it.
The tentacle wrapped around the instrument unwound a couple loops, and before Jon could react, the Caterpillar plunged the tip in his espresso and swished it around a bit.
"Holy... "
Lord Byron quickly cut him off and spoke in his ear through the com set.
"Before you say too much: Remember they are eventually going to understand what we say, and very likely go back and review every word we ever uttered."
"Uh, yeah... Holy Mackerel," Jon finished, wisely.
The alien transferred his instrument to a smaller tentacle and withdrew it into the mass of small tendrils before bringing the big one back to the cup. Just as Jon had moved slowly to avoid scaring the alien yesterday the Caterpillar reached slowly with his larger tentacle and curled it around the cup. Jon had to smile at how delicately he did so. The Caterpillar wasn't assertive. He grasped the cup and didn't tug at all, but the request was plain. Jon let go of it slowly and withdrew his hand, folding his hands in his lap.
"Are you sure you don't want one last sip, Mr. Burris?" Lord Byron asked in his ear.
"You have an evil sense of humor... sir," Jon replied.
The alien carried the cup carefully, almost reverently, to the others and after many hoots and new noises they each carefully dipped a tentacle in turn, and one might assume tasted. One of them exited the hold and seemed to be in a bigger hurry than when they came in.
The others had a mechanism of some sort positioned in front of the pedestal with the bust on it. It looked more like a studio microphone than a camera; a fist-sized silvery ball with a black handle below it. They also had a low boomerang shape they brought over and laid about a half meter in front of him.
Jon's handler had returned and was standing to the side. He waved his tentacles a bit and gave a couple hoots like a ferry boat getting ready to undock. Jon had no idea what he wanted.
The alien stood still looking at him. Jon wondered if he was disgusted at how stupid Jon was or upset with himself for not being clearer. After a bit he tugged the smaller tentacles in close and held the two big ones out straight in front of him. When that got no reaction he swept them both up vertically like a football referee calling a good goal.
"I'm obviously supposed to know what that means," Jon said, out loud. "But I'm clueless."
The alien held the tentacles out straight again and slowly made both ends turn up at right angles. Even not having tentacles it looked uncomfortable. Then he crossed and uncrossed them a couple times.
"Oh, my arms?" Jon asked, holding his arms out and turning his hands up palms out like the alien. That produced a melody of hoots and one of the other Caterpillars came rushing over with one of the floating plates. Really, just super high-tech hand carts, Jon thought.
The assistant put the boomerang shape on the cart, made it float a bit higher, and then pushed it back in front of Jon, even a little bit closer. The alien did the uncomfortable tentacle waving thing again.
"Oh, it wasn't close enough," Jon figured out. He reached out straight-armed and crossed his wrists with his palms out just like the alien and uncrossed them, wondering if it was going to play music or what. The air in front of him filled with an image of the bust from hand to hand.
Jon thought the displays their ships used were high definition. He was wrong. This just looked real. Real as a hole in the air with a view of the bust he'd brought along. He pulled his hands back and the image grew closer. As an experiment he closed one eye and then the other. It was in 3D.
"Wow."
"Wow what?" Lord Byron asked in his ear. "Do you need pom-poms? You look like a drunk cheerleader waving your arms around."
"We just got richer than we ever imagined. And some of the Fargoers have pretty vivid imaginations. A few of them have been writing million dollar IOUs for their poker games," Jon said.
"What are you talking about? I see they brought out some things. Are you trying to trade for them?"
"Yes sir. I certainly shall if they don't offer them freely like we did. Anything they want. Have you ever seen really old grainy movies? The sort that were on actual silver photographic film before they were digitalized? Grayscale even instead of color?"
"Yes I have. They simply called them black and white during that era. Don't ask me why," Lord Byron said. "I have no idea."
"Well the Caterpillars just showed me a 3D video system that makes our displays look about as sad as those old movies," Jon told him. He tried withdrawing his hands, but the image followed. He tried taking one back and not the other and it rotated. This was a great display but he couldn't hold his hands out for hours. The alien made the lifting gesture again.
"Oh... " Jon unbent his wrists and swept both arms straight up away from the display. It stayed put.
"Damn, this looks so good," Jon said. Lord Byron didn't even reprove him.
* * *
"The Champion William reports they will be in orbit above us in a couple hours. They ask if we have any unfinished survey work here with which they can help us?" Brownie said.
"Brownie, have you assigned anyone to gather Lee's bag of dirt?" Gordon asked.
"No, sir. I was waiting until I knew somebody was near landing," Brownie explained.
"Ah, good," Gordon said looking highly amused. "Inform Captain Fenton he may chose whatever moon of the gas giant we are orbiting that suits him, and send a shuttle down to its surface. Whatever else he does of interest is his concern, but we require a bag of soil or loose surface debris. If he can find any rich in metallic elements that is to be preferred."
Brownie kept his conversation private and didn't share it with the bridge. After awhile Gordon inquired if Captain Fenton had his new orders.
"Yes sir. I informed him, and he acknowledged them."
"Did he wonder why we wanted a bag of dirt?" Gordon asked.
"No sir, he did ask if I knew what would be an acceptable size. I hope you don't mind my initiative, but since we seemed to be providing an additional sample for the alien device, I suggested that a sample filling a pillowcase would be appropriate."
"We encourage initiative, Brownie. That was a perfectly reasonable response," Gordon said.
"Fenton isn't big on questioning orders, is he?" Thor asked.
"No, and I wondered how he'd respond, but I can't say that's an entirely bad quality," Gordon allowed. "Initiative is fine, but I also don't want a debating society when I give an order. I think we have a good balance so far."
Chapter 8
The Caterpillars brought out one of the blankets that had been laid out as a trading area on the previous visit by The Champion William. The camera and display were set to the side. Jon hoped they didn't take it back. The espresso, however, was positioned on the blanket as if Jon was offering it in trade. It was a brilliant use of the system. Opposite the cup they put a decent roll of gold wire, several loops of a substantial gauge and a hand's breadth across. The aliens knew from previous trading that the Humans and their allies valued gold.
That was innovative trading, but they went further. To the side there was an even bigger roll of the same wire, several kilograms easily. There was nothing offered in trade opposite it – yet.
"Captain , I want to explain what I think I'm being offered here. I'd appreciate your take, everybody's take on it in the shuttle really. We have a small enough group to discuss this," Jon said.
"We're watching. Wait a minute please, Jon. This is a for-all-hands message," Lord Byron announced on com. "I think most of you are watching the video of Specialist Burris' meeting with the Caterpillars. Please take a moment if you can do so safely, and text me an opinion of what the aliens intend. Give them a minute or two, Jon, and then go ahead and tell us your understanding of their actions."
"I believe they are showing their interest in coffee," Jon said in a bit. "They want the cup and sample if nothing else. It occurs to me that they seem more advanced than us in some ways. They might be able to analyze the coffee sufficiently to synthesize it or at least most of its components. But the large coil suggests they'd like a bigger sample. They may not understand it's an, uh, infusion."
"I see. I have my com tech reading the responses,” said Lord Byron. “I instructed the flight engineer to see how much coffee we have aboard. It's not going to be a huge amount. OK, coms says that basically four of seven agree with you that they want coffee. I concur, despite the fellow who says the cup may impress him, so make that six of nine including us. I think it's a really bad trade to only gain a little extra gold for it however," Lord Byron said. "At this distance from home I suspect coffee is already worth more than its weight in gold."
"What are your orders then, sir?" Jon asked.
"Let's just the two of us discuss it before we get to the orders stage. We value gold and they know that, but face it, we found enough gold around the brown dwarfs to permanently depress the value of gold and other precious metals if they all hit the market. Their value is going to be more a function of transportation cost within our lifetimes."
"I have to agree with that," Jon said. "We're going to see those values revised to be more like that of indium or erbium and palladium."
"Exactly. So I'm more worried about nailing down the tech than a one-time trade. They moved their equipment off to the side. They seem distracted by the coffee. Let's not be distracted ourselves. The tech is what we are interested in getting. Are you sure they are going to offer the video equipment to us since they kept ours?" Lord Byron asked.
"Not a hundred percent sir. I'm worried about that a little," Jon admitted. "I may have messed up and muddied the issue by bringing my coffee with me."
"Yes, I'm worried too. I was just told we have a kilo bag of coffee still sealed up and a partial bag that has some used. What I'm thinking is you should drag the blanket over to their video equipment and place the coffee so it is obviously a trade for that, not the gold. I'll send out the sealed bag to put beside the cup."
"If I may suggest. They don't have the cultural background. They may not even cook. Perhaps a small sample from the open bag ground, so they know to process it that way," Jon said.
"An excellent suggestion. I just stopped the fellow bringing you the sealed bag and sent him back to get a sample of fresh ground. So, you are the fellow out on the pointy end. Does that course of action make sense to you?" Lord Byron asked.
"It's pretty much what I'd have suggested. Are you going to run it past the crew?" Jon asked.
"No, I wanted opinions on assessing the situation. We don't do consensus on what to do about it. Go ahead Mr. Burris, proceed with those actions."
"Aye, sir. I'll start moving things now and your man should have the coffee to me before I'm done."
* * *
"I know we're getting pretty close to wrapping up the survey of this system," Lee said. "Can we hang around long enough to try my approach to getting the Caterpillars to show us how to use the machine?"
"Yes, if they accept another delegation at their lock and let them in as quickly as they did this time," Gordon agreed. "There's a limit how long I'll make all these ships and everybody aboard them sit on their hands waiting for them to open up and welcome another shuttle."
"I don't think I've ever seen Derf sit on their hands. Can you do that?" Lee asked.
"Easily for the lower set," Gordon said. "True hands are a bit of a stretch. You have to bend the back and it hurts the shoulder, but it is a human expression I picked up for the meaning, not any physical reality." He looked a little peeved with her nit-picking.
"Why have them go later and wait to be admitted?" Lee asked, returning to the original conversation. "They're going to be opening the hold hatch to let out the shuttle they have now." After several people gave her dark looks she amended that: "I mean, we assume and hope they will, just like before. Why not have another shuttle waiting for the hatch to open and just trade spots. We were saying how big it is. Lots of room to pass each other through the opening, even."
"Don't you think that's rather pushy, and presuming on their hospitality?" Gordon asked.
"Well yeah," Lee agreed, totally unrepentant. "But if I'd never been pushy we'd be back on Derfhome, sitting around the hot tub, getting fat and counting our share payments off Providence."
"You may be surprised to know your own culture has not always had this obsession with thinness," Gordon informed her. He seemed to quell a stronger reply. "Indeed, in studying English I found many older phrases, such as 'fat and happy', which indicated a certain plumpness was associated with prosperity rather than sloth in your not too distant history. However, I'll say this: We can propose the idea, and if anyone volunteers to fly the mission and man it then we can do it, but when the hatch opens I'd suggest we ask Lord Byron and Jon Burris if they'd stay in the hold and help guide the new exchange. They have the most experience and I give it much better odds of success with their direction."
"That's a great idea," Lee agreed. "When will The Champion William's shuttle get back with the bag of dirt?" Lee wondered. "Can they stick the Caterpillars' machine in it and be waiting by the hatch pretty soon?"
"Captain Fenton has very wisely been unwilling to risk his command by playing with the machine absent any guidance. He has been storing it in the freight lock so that if it showed any sign of unwanted activity he could flush it out the lock. I very much approve of his caution," Gordon said. "It also means their shuttle, which will be back soon, can put it aboard quickly when it returns. However, The Champion William is going to shift orbit closer to us and the Caterpillars with the shuttle grappled, as they can do that faster than the shuttle can do so on its own."
"Any idea how long," Lee persisted.
"Not nearly fast enough for you I'm sure," Gordon said. "Brownie, can you give us an estimate?"
"Somewhere on the far side of four hours," Brownie replied. "Even a lavish waste of fuel would only shave a half hour or so off that," he said before Lee could ask.
* * *
The Caterpillars seemed stumped at what the sealed bag had to do with anything. It was picked up, rolled over to examine it on all sides, and set back down. The ground coffee in a snap-top container, however, produced a flurry of activity. Several new Caterpillars showed up with new instruments and took samples. As close as Jon could tell they only needed a single grit of the coffee to put in the new machines. They were bulkier than the hand-held, rather tentacle-held, instruments so presumably they were of greater analytical ability.
Now that he knew what to look for, Jon realized the alien tentacle waving in front of the device was controlling the display of the instrument. From the side he couldn't tell what it was projecting. If there was no keyboard maybe the waving had a data input mode too.
Jon was relieved because they removed both the cup and sample of ground. Once you took the trade item away the deal was finalized. So far they hadn't tried to go back on any trade where they had removed the offering indicating acceptance. He technically could remove the bag of coffee if they didn't, Jon supposed, but it didn't feel right.
"Captain, I suspect they are not familiar with our packaging and have no idea what the bag of coffee represents," Jon said.
"What do you propose to do, Mr. Burris?"
"I think in the interests of a fair trade I should open it for them. The color and odor should inform them it is the source of the ground form they have. Lord knows it is a small enough trade for the tech we are getting, and if they really don't want it I suppose we can still recover it."
There was an unusually long pause for Lord Byron. "Yes, although just as you didn't care to drink coffee that had been stirred with a tentacle, we might not care to use the beans if they have been examined too... intimately. But that's a minor quibble. Please, go ahead and show them how to open the bag."
Jon went to the trading blanket and picked up the bag. He wondered if he'd have to wave or something, but a Caterpillar turned away from the new activity and observed him, probably his usual handler. He hadn't been watching as closely as he should have to be sure.
He pointed to the notch in the metalized plastic and, grasping it firmly between forefinger and thumb, ripped the top edge of the bag off. The seal inside had a sliding sealer and locked with an audible click at the end of its travel. Jon demonstrated opening it and reclosing it. Then when he opened it again he took a few beans in his hand, displaying them on his palm, and tilted the bag to show the Caterpillar the rest.
The Caterpillar looked them all over, standing much closer than he had dared before. Jon caught a little whiff of ammonia again. The alien came close enough to use one of its very thin tentacles to pick up a single coffee bean. He was so meticulous Jon never felt it touch his hand, just the bean. Apparently they were just as fussy and cautious about touching as humans. Jon wondered if they'd seen him actually take a sip of his espresso given that aversion or didn't understand his lips were more than a speaking orifice. The bean disappeared to the lower edge of the alien's face. They must have a mouth or a nose down there but it wasn't obvious. He was tempted to get down on his belly to see, but dignity won out over curiosity. He wasn't sure his captain would approve.
After a few seconds there was a distinct >crunch< and the alien froze in place for an instant. When he moved again he tilted his head and looked at Jon eyeball to eyeball. It was the first time he'd received such a direct stare from one of them. The hoot he blasted out caught Jon by surprise and startled him. A couple of the other aliens came over and they all looked.
His alien daintily took the remaining three beans in his hand and, turning, distributed them to the others, who still were not as bold as him around the Human. They all treated them like candies and none took any over to the mobile lab equipment. Only when Jon put the bag back down on the blanket did they gather some beans to take over to the researchers. Some of them definitely never made it all the way. His special alien took the bag of beans with both main tentacles and carried it to one of the floating carts. He left two other aliens standing on each side of it. Jon wondered if they were guards.
"You don't have to worry about any beans coming back," Jon told Lord Byron.
"I saw that. Looks like they're pretty popular. Well, maybe we don't have to teach them how to brew it. I'd like to send two crewmen out with a cart and remove the alien video gear before they decide we don't want it. I don't want to go through timidly moving it toward the cart like they did, and waiting to see if they object. Ours was a gift, these were bought fair and square."
"Please do. I'll stay close here, and if they look like they want to recover it I'll try to dissuade them. If they get insistent I'll show them a deal is a deal, and go take the coffee back."
"Very good, Mr. Burris, but don't get insistent to the point of getting hurt," he warned.
"They seem reluctant to actually touch me. I don't think they'd want that kind of contact. I can't imagine them wrestling it away from me."
"I don't know, they seem pretty fond of it. I'm afraid these fellows are well ahead of us in certain areas. I don't want to provoke them, but we must insist on respect and being treated as peers from the start," Lord Byron said.
"Perhaps. Don't forget they thought the self-cleaning glass should be a big deal we'd want. I'd be surprised if we aren't ahead in some areas. I have noticed nothing in the hold and none of their equipment seems to be painted. Some discoveries are a predictable progression, and some are serendipity. "
"I think he is a Fargoer," Lord Byron quipped. He was taking a good natured poke at their strange customs in names. He might really know a Fargoer named Serendipity. "Your pickup team is out of the lock, Mr. Burris."
Jon looked over his shoulder and there were two crew in work coveralls, each pulling a hand cart like a heavy duty child's play wagon, along with padded blankets. They walked up and past Jon with complete indifference from the Caterpillars, and put the alien gear on the carts with no objections.
"Captain, if they ignore me for another ten minutes or so may I assume our business is concluded and return to the shuttle?" Jon asked.
"You can stand and fold your chair up right now," Lord Byron said. "If they don't take a hint and demonstrate they have other business, come on back in. I'd say we've accomplished our mission and more. I'm not sure everybody in our fleet is going to be thrilled to find out the Caterpillars failed to reproduce our video because it was too primitive, but it sure looks that way to me."
* * *
The shuttle sat patiently. They didn't power up anything. The Caterpillars took their time piling everything back on their hover carts and exited the hold. Lord Byron called all the crew to flight stations when the hold pressure started dropping, but still didn't activate anything that could be sensed externally. If the aliens changed their minds and decided to come out for another pow-wow he'd send somebody out to treat with them.
When the big door swept open they weren't surprised to find they were still in the same system with their fleet. They expected to hear the familiar radio chatter. What they didn't expect was the shuttle from The Champion William hanging right outside the hatch asking them if they'd care to stay a bit longer and help the other crew interact with the aliens on another mission.
"Gerald," Lord Byron called to the officer on coms. "Send as much of our video and voice records of the trade to the High Hopes as you can before the hatch closes again. And inquire who is senior in charge here, me or the commander of the other shuttle."
"Of course we shall be delighted to lend our expertise," Lord Byron told Burt Wong from The Champion William. The fact Captain Fenton had also sent his XO to command the shuttle spoke to how important he regarded the mission. Lord Byron wondered if he was rated to pilot it himself or just command it. It was awkward they were both XOs and he hoped Gordon had thought to designate a leader. If they had to decide it would be awkward.
"Commander Gordon says you are the lead, and Jon number two, since you guys have all the experience. He says enjoy your task force command, and suggests you refrain from fleet maneuvers no matter how big their hold is," Gerald relayed.
"Ah, a disappointment, but we'll restrain ourselves," Lord Byron said, amused.
"Mr. Wong," he sent to the other shuttle, "I assume you are recording the transmission we are sending out. If you would please take time to review the material after you are grounded, and share any thoughts you have on our trading session."
"Aye, sir. We'll start looking at it even as it's streaming," Wong agreed. The other shuttle drifted down to the deck gently as they watched. They could have put three of them end to end and not been crowded before the far bulkhead.
"Got it all sent," Gerald said as the hatch slid closed. "Apparently they don't mind us holding a party here."
"I'm sure if they weren't welcome the little tug drones that snatched the Biter ship so easily would have blocked the new shuttle at the hatch, if they didn't want them to enter," Lord Byron reminded him. "Or evicted us," he added after a little thought.
"I've been wondering where they keep those," Gerald remarked. "I didn't see where they docked when they got through pushing on The Champion William before. I don't see any hatches to indicate they are stored in here, and there's nothing like a Caterpillar shuttle. This may be a hold rather than a hangar, even given the huge external hatch."
"We have never seen a Caterpillar shuttle. It's an assumption they use them," Lord Byron said.
"What else could they use? Do you think they land those kilometer long spaceships on planetary surfaces?" Gerald asked.
* * *
"I'm embarrassed," Thor admitted.
"Well, that's remarkable all on its own," Lee said.
"Yes, it does happen, rarely," Thor said. "You just don't see it that often to recognize it, because I'm so rarely wrong."
"That sort of ruins any humility the admission held," Lee complained.
"Lord Byron was right," Thor said, ignoring Lee. "We are still close enough to analog video and vacuum tube scanning screens that we recognized them when we saw the Bunnies using them on the way out. If we were just a little further advanced we might not have been able to cobble up some sort of conversion scheme to display their transmissions.
"If we'd needed to have the fabbers make a cathode ray tube I doubt we have anybody on board who is sufficiently familiar with them, or has enough engineering data to reproduce them. I can't imagine we have actual plans. The Caterpillars must be in much the same situation needing to make a plain old 2D flat screen to display our video on. I just hope we can figure out how their stuff works when we get a close look at that gear."
"Maybe now that they have a couple screens they can just use them to view our transmissions. Does what we gave them have all the processing they need onboard to do that from an antenna signal?" Lee asked.
"Yes it does, if they realize that, we'll see. I'm curious if they will set up the camera and use it to transmit to us primitives," Gordon said sardonically.
"Don't worry, we can still sell them basket work and fetishes," Lee predicted.
Chapter 9
"That's remarkable," Burt Wong said after watching the recording of the aliens taking the fleet's video gear away and trading their own. "They might have let you have their gear as an even swap. However I understood your exchange with Jon Burris. It was certainly brilliant, and prudent, to make sure they let you keep it as a trade."
"They initiated interest in the coffee," Lord Byron pointed out. "It was a fortunate accident Jon took a cup out with him as he was sleep deprived and needed the caffeine. However, he seemed to perk right up at all the activity he precipitated."
"Gordon made clear he wanted Jon to tackle this next problem too," Wong said. "I hope he's as resourceful with it. We have that strange little machine the Caterpillars gave The Champion William in trade. Miss Anderson proposed we walk around it and look helpless and clueless to see if the Caterpillars won't take pity on us and show how to use the bloody thing."
"I can do helpless and clueless. You just drag one wing like it is broken and walk in circles," Jon said, hanging one arm limply. "We may find out if they are predators if it excites them."
"Dear God, I hope you don't joke about that with Ha-bob-bob-brie," Wong said.
"You underestimate him," Jon said, smiling. "I've been making all sorts of cracks about flightless birds and he handles it just fine, except he's developed an obsession with penguins, and is talking about buying a tuxedo."
Wong looked alarmed, with his mouth hanging open, then dubious. Finally you could see him decide to drop it when he closed his mouth and composed himself. "I'll have the machine at our lock whenever you want to take it. The original dirt they supplied is still in their bag, and the soil we picked up locally is in a similar plastic slider bag with handles."
"Thank you. We'll be over and pick it up when the Caterpillars run the pressure back up to where I don't need a suit," Jon told him.
When he broke the connection Lord Byron looked at him oddly. "You've really been needling Ha-bob-bob-brie about being flightless?"
"Yes, but he makes all sorts of tactless comments to me about hairless apes," Jon said. "Ha-bob-bob-brie has a much better sense of humor than Mr. Wong."
"I find it remarkable that is possible, Mr. Burris," Lord Byron said.
"It's even worse than you think. They have three sexes and lay eggs, but we've been trading dirty jokes and they're funny."
* * *
The machine was simple in form. It might have been a small potbellied stove or a beer keg with legs. The funnel on top was pretty obvious. There were some square lines with rounded corners on the side but it was impossible to tell if they were fitted pieces or just surface scribes.
Jon Burris was dressed in the normal work outfit for a ship that did a lot of zero G, a jumpsuit with zip-seal pockets and tight wristcuffs. Nothing on it would snag on a projection easily. The soft ankle boots were flexible enough to let get a toe under a take-hold bar to pivot or wedge your foot to locate you while you worked on something. The Caterpillars always looked the same, but they had seen Jon in pressure suit, suit liner and work fatigues with no reaction. Apparently they understood clothing.
The machine was removed from the wagon they used to pull it over from the new shuttle. Jon had walked over to accompany them and show them where he wanted it unloaded, carrying his usual chair. He hadn't realized the landing shuttles were named vessels too. The shuttle from the Retribution had just been mentioned as the number two shuttle when they were issuing orders. He couldn't remember it being used on com, but the shuttle from The Champion William had Hildegard written in ornate script near the forward viewports. He didn't want to ask about it now, but saved some pix of it for later.
The aliens didn't send out the usual group of six. Just two came out, but then Jon hadn't put a blanket down to show an interest in trading. They might very well wonder what they were up to with the second shuttle. It suddenly occurred to him they might think they were returning the machine. He's have to avoid doing anything to imply that.
The sack of alien dirt that came with the machine and the one they'd collected themselves were put on the deck near but not touching the device. The material they collected tested as having high concentrations of rare earths by laser vaporization. The aliens' material seemed to be a fine alluvial gravel of mixed minerals that could have easily come from Earth or any other water world. They had examined a small sample non-destructively and returned it to the bag.
Jon walked around the machine stopping and looking at it from various angles. The aliens watched impassively. He went around again and leaned over peering at the surface closer. When the two just stood there staring he stopped and held his hands to each side palm up in a classic human gesture of puzzlement.
"I know you might not understand, but I have no idea what to do with the stupid thing," he said. He picked up the bag of dirt they'd supplied and made as if he was going to pour it in the funnel on top but stopped and sat it back down.
"And we suspect you want us to pour it in the funnel, but where's the on button?" Jon asked, aloud. He went through the same routine with their own bag of dirt and again didn't complete it.
"Jon, there is some radio traffic again inside the hanger," Lord Byron told him.
The Caterpillars did lean close and put their heads together. He'd never seen them do that before. The hatch into the hold opened and admitted another Caterpillar carrying something. He joined the other two and there was a bit of subdued hooting but no leaning close again. Up close he was carrying a clear cylinder of some sort.
"Maybe I've driven them to drink and the new fellow has brought martinis," Jon speculated.
"Does that mean you can see the cylinder has fluid in it, Mr. Burris?" Lord Byron asked.
"I can't see anything sloshing around, but it has a cap on it of much less diameter than the body. I'd bet anything it's a bottle. The form just fits the function."
"A thousand Ceres dollars says you are anthropomorphizing," Wong challenged. "It could be a battery or an optical device for all you know."
"Ha! Done," Jon agreed.
The Caterpillar walked over to the machine and looked at Jon.
"Yes, I'm paying attention," Jon said out loud, and approached to demonstrate his interest.
The Caterpillar took the cap off the bottle but it didn't screw of. He rolled a tentacle around it and it popped off. He poured about a third of the clear liquid inside down the funnel on top of the alien machine, and sat the bottle on the deck.
"I can't smell anything. I think it's just water," Jon said.
"Well crap. But it still isn't martinis," Wong said, a bit grumpy.
The Caterpillar grabbed the sack with both main tentacles and supported the bottom with lots of the secondary tendrils. He lifted both of his front segments off the deck to get the sack up to the funnel and tip about half of the contents in. That was new and interesting.
"Why would they build this machine so high when it's obviously difficult to dump the stuff in it? Why not build it low to the ground and make it easy on themselves?" Lord Byron wondered.
"I've no idea, but I can see something interesting about the cap. It has a groove in the middle. I bet that is a lock to keep it on the bottle instead of screwing it on like we would," Jon said.
"Please, stop saying 'I bet'," Lord Byron requested. "It gets the Fargoers all excited and distracts us from the business at hand. Besides, I predict you will keep winning and some may resent it."
"I'm sorry," Jon said, "it's a fairly common meaningless interjection where I'm from. It's a mannerism nobody normally takes it as a formal offer. I admit it's almost as bad as, 'You know'."
"Thank you, Mr. Burris, we... Oh, my!
The Caterpillar centered itself on the section that had squares marked and did the two-tentacle motion they'd seen used on the aliens' video display. Jon sidled over as close as he could to try to get within the viewing angle. The other aliens behind him gave a little hoot and the one working the machine stopped and put both main tentacles upright in the center of the projected display. Then he formed an arch with both of them and rotated the away from each other. The image expanded and was visible now over a much wider angle.
"I hope you saw how he did that," Lord Byron said.
"I think so, but hey, we have it on video," Jon said.
"Your feed is good, but we can't see much from the ship cameras. What do you make of that?" Lord Byron asked. "It's in 3D right? I don't think we're getting the full effect through your camera."
"Yes, it's like a bar graph. In 3d it's like square pillars of different heights. Almost like looking down on a city with skyscrapers of various heights. Ah, he made a motion and it rotated. That put the short ones toward us and the high ones to the rear. There are also a couple smaller clusters like the main one to the sides." There were symbols on the top of each, but he had no idea what they meant.
The Caterpillar made a much more obvious gesture, pointing a straightened tentacle at the display. One of the shorter square pillars brightened and the machine gave a hoot. It was clearly the machine not the alien, and made Jon jump. Then he laughed, as much at himself as the machine.
The alien closed the screen and went back to his companions. Jon took that for a signal and retreated to his chair. The tree alien stood heads together and if they were communicating it had to be in a whisper. The machine didn't have a light to show it was doing anything or make noise.
"I think I understand what the graph might be," Wonk volunteered.
"Do tell," Lord Byron invited, but he wasn't being sarcastic.
"We'll have to look at it in detail, and whatever the machine does may help to verify it, but I think it may be a periodic chart of the elements," Wong said.
"Hmm... maybe," Lord Byron allowed. “We need to count the pillars. What do you suppose the side groups might be then?"
"I'm not sure. But one of them looked quite, uh, tall."
"Yes, but I'm no mind reader, what do you think that means?" Lord Byron asked.
"If the taller ones are very large atomic numbers or atomic weight it might be an island of stability in high atomic numbers that we've never been able to create, sir," Wong suggested.
"What an interesting theory. If it pans out I'll ask a share bonus for you of Commander Gordon."
"Thank you, sir. I won't turn that down. It can offset my bet with Mr. Burris."
"And then some!" Lord Byron agreed.
* * *
"Mr. Goddard, when they conclude the other business with the alien machine and bring that 3D video gear out I want you to investigate it, but primarily I want it installed on our bridge so we can communicate with the Caterpillars," Gordon requested. "It has to have some output we can transmit to them, even if we need to amplify it."
"I'll do my best, sir," Ernie Goddard said. He sounded intimidated.
"It's just technology, Mr. Goddard," Gordon reminded him, "They may be a little ahead of us, but it's not like we are savages and have no hope of duplicating their magic."
"Aye sir," Ernie agreed, but there was no confidence in his voice.
* * *
One of the aliens was so still Jon Burris wondered if he was taking a little nap. He didn't think he could be that comfortable around them even if he had others out here with him. When the machine gave another hoot the fellow twitched, reinforcing his suspicion.
The one he was pretty sure was his handler looked at him and went over to the machine, so he went along. The alien very patiently drew a square in the air around the square outline he'd used before to call up the display, and then stood back.
"Oh, you want me to try it?" Jon asked. It was small so he just used his index fingers to do the opening command and worked perfectly. He decided to go for broke and made an arch of his hands in the middle and rolled them each way. It didn't open up the angle of the display like it had for the alien.
"Well, crud, I tried," Jon muttered.
The alien reached in and did something complicated too fast for him to follow, then closed the display up and retraced the square shape again.
"Ah, back to square one again?" Jon asked, amused. He opened it again and looked at the alien. The alien did the gesture of rolling two arched tentacle tips away from each other again like he'd used to open the angle on the display, but he directed it at Jon instead of the machine.
"Oh, I'm being dense again," Jon said, embarrassed. He made the same gesture with his hands again and was rewarded with a wide display they could both lean in and see together.
"That's interesting," Jon reported over com. "He adjusted it for hands, so the machine recognized the gesture. It's apparently programmable."
"Yeah, like assigning special keys on a board," Lord Byron agreed.
The alien aligned a single tentacle along the left side of the screen and swiped it like a squeegee. The screen with the pillar shapes slid off to the right and was replaced with a new one.
"It's like a touch screen!" Jon exclaimed.
"Saw that," Lord Byron said.
The new screen showed just two bars in a graph, one much bigger than the other. His alien pointed and almost touched the smaller bar. It illuminated and a drawer popped open in the side of the machine. It had a tray in it that was much bigger than it needed to be, a rectangular shape again with rounded corners. The aliens seemed to find that aesthetically pleasing. There was some debris in the bottom, but it was rather dim in the hold and the tray itself was a matte dark gray. It had a tentacle loop, however, which served just fine for fingers. Jon removed the tray and still couldn't see much, so he took a small light from his pocket and shone it inside.
"Well, what is it?" Lord Byron asked after he stared and didn't seem disposed to report.
"I think it's gold," Jon said. "At least it's a bunch of little blobs and flecks that look like gold and some black powder."
"Gold looks dark if it's finely divided," Lord Byron said. "I had a friend who refined his own gold from panning and dredging, and he got a dark powder he had to flux and melt."
"It probably is then, but where did all the rest of it go?" Jon wondered.
"I see the other bar on the screen. Maybe if you touch it the machine will deliver up the rest of it?"
"It better have a lot bigger drawer," Jon said. But he poked a finger at the larger bar, doing so slowly enough that the alien could stop him if he needed to. The bar didn't light up like the other and no drawer opened.
The alien didn't hoot, but did an interesting little flourish with a main tentacle and pointed very plainly. Not at the display but low. So low Jon had to step back to see at what he was pointing. There was a pile of fine powder under the machine.
"OK, this makes sense," Jon said. "They know we value gold, so they gave us a machine that separates gold from other rock. It seems the waste is dumped under the machine. If I'd known that I'd have put a pan down there to make cleanup easier." He leaned over and poked it with a finger tip. It was as fine as flour and dry.
"Where did the water go?" Jon asked. Lord Byron wasn't sure if he was just speaking out loud again or thought they might know. The alien wasn't going to answer.
"Perhaps the water is necessary to the process," Wong said. "It may evaporate. There is no external power connected. Unless it has some sort of batteries maybe it uses the water for power."
"Oh my. If it uses plain hydrogen from the water for power it must do it by fusion. If so, they have no idea that it's much more valuable to us for that than as a gold separator."
"Yes, but I don't think it is a gold separator," Wong said. "He didn't just dump it in and turn it on. He needed to make a selection from that first menu. I think it's a general purpose machine."
"You know, I think you're right. The gold mining friend I was talking about would carry a machine around that separated out alluvial gold by gravity. He didn't use it to work the whole deposit, but he'd use it to test a spot to see if the whole area was worth working with the big machines. I think this is something similar," Lord Byron said. "And much more efficient than his. His took hours and a lot more water, besides needing a generator to run the motor."
"It may be a small machine for doing trials, that makes sense for them to have along. We don't carry heavy mining equipment either when prospecting. But if we can get it apart and understand the process maybe we can scale it up," Jon said.
"Mr. Burris, do you think you can induce him to process the other material? I suspect that would tell us a great deal more," Lord Byron said.
"I'll try," Jon said. He carefully closed the display. "Oh, I have nowhere to put the gold. Could you have somebody run me out a small plastic bag, please?"
They all waited while a crewman came out and gave him a small specimen bag and left immediately. He poured the gold into it and tapped the container on the deck to loosen any grains adhering. There didn't seem to be any.
"The little container seems to be very slick inside. None of the dust stuck to it. You might make a note to see if their non-stick surfaces are better than ours." When he put the tray back in the drawer it didn't close. Jon touched the end lightly and it powered itself shut.
"I'll try to do the same as he did with our bag. I'm assuming if I do something tremendously stupid he'll stop me. Do I have your permission to try that?" Jon asked.
"Sure, but if they all take off running I suggest you do the same," Lord Byron said. Perhaps he joked, but Jon wasn't sure. It was less funny so close to the machine.
"Indeed."
Jon took the bottle and tried to squeeze it with his fingertips in the groove sufficiently to open it. The groove was too narrow and he couldn't make it work. He considered handing it to the alien to open for him, but hated to do that. After a little thought he took out the same light he'd used before. It had a cord to keep him from losing it. He wrapped the lanyard around the groove and twisted it tight. The cap came right off with little drag. When he held it above the funnel the alien showed no distress so he poured about the same volume – a third of the bottle. The bag of dirt was actually easier for him to pour than the aliens. He also used about half. It might be a little less than their bag, but that was fine.
"I don't know if you realize, but it looks like you poured at least a half ounce of gold into that bag. That's really rich paydirt. Some places they'd process two ton of rock to get that," Lord Byron said.
"What's that in grams?" Jon asked.
"It's Troy ounces for gold, so at thirty one point one grams per ounce, around fifteen grams."
"I'm opening up the display again," It looked subtly different but Jon wasn't sure how. The alien rotated it again and pointed at a cluster of pillars that stood out from the rest.
"What sort of material is this we're processing?" Jon asked.
"It has a lot of rare earths. That's about all that's really useful in it," Lord Byron said.
"I trust what my buddy here is suggesting. It will be safe at least. Let's try this," Jon stabbed a finger at the taller one of the group, and was rewarded with it lighting briefly and a hoot. "You might as well run me out another bag. I think I'll need it."
"On the way," Lord Byron told him.
"I wonder what it does if you pick a gas?" Wong asked.
"Sticks a pipe out the side maybe," Lord Byron guessed.
"Sir, I thought of a reason why this may be easier for us to load than for the Caterpillars," Jon said.
"Well, it's going to take some time to process, Mr. Burris. I see no reason you can't share it with us."
"Perhaps they bought it from somebody more vertical, like us, and it isn't worth altering."
"An interesting idea. If so, they apparently know each others' devices well enough to alter the software more to the Caterpillars' liking with their own symbols," he said, expanding on the idea.
The machine gave a hoot and when Jon pulled the drawer open the was a mass of dark silvery needles. He emptied it in the new bag and said, "It will be interesting to see what this is."
"The crude laser assay indicated samarium was the most abundant of the rare earths in the crude material, so I'd be very surprised if it is anything else," Wong told him.
"Mr. Burris, I think that concludes our business with them. I'm sending out a couple crew to load the machine back up and sweep up the waste underneath. I'd appreciate it if you stand right there until they have it loaded. They're dropping off a couple gifts for the Caterpillars in appreciation of their instruction," Lord Byron said.
"Aye, sir," Jon agreed and waited. The two crewmen had the small wheeled wagons with a tow handle. They unloaded four wool blankets and an assortment of pencils, pens and industrial markers. The Caterpillars seemed more interested in the cleanup with a dust pan and brush. The man finished with a small hand-held vacuum that elicited a few appreciative hoots. When the wagons were loaded up and rolling Jon folded his chair and followed.
"They're taking the stuff," Lord Byron said before he made it back to the lock. Jon looked over his shoulder and verified it. That was good, they had earned it. He was starting to grow fond of his handler.
Chapter 10
Gordon let the alien separator go back to The Champion William. The 3D displays, however, he appropriated for the High Hopes. He really wanted better communications with the alien ship. What was their interest anyway? They seemed benign, but why, and would it stay that way? Sending video and a delay while they processed it to still frames was awkward and they had no idea how much was lost in translation. The aliens had sent them an actual line drawing before so they didn't have any convenient 2D image creating software. He suspected they had no convenient way to generate them from their own stream. That suggested they were very dissimilar formats.
"I can take it apart, or I can install it," Ernie Goddard told Gordon. "I don't give you a snowball’s chance in hell I can take it apart far enough to discover the really important stuff and get it back together running. If it's simple enough we might be able to fab a replacement once we understand how it works, but I wouldn't bet on it."
Ernie wasn't a native Fargoer, but he'd lived with them long enough to automatically state his case like one. Citing actual odds would have been even better, but in honesty he had no way to defend his numbers if Gordon asked.
"Very well, Mr. Goddard. This is critical enough to our current operations we shall use it and delay any further investigation until we can deliver it to a real electronics laboratory. I'd like it on the left side of my console here. You can put a camera looking at it over my shoulder. The image will be lacking the 3D aspect but I still want a channel showing a lower resolution monocular view for the others on the command circuit."
"I'll be right up with an assistant to take some measurements to fab a bracket for it. Once it is held I can start experimenting with splitting off an optical signal feed to the Caterpillars, and hopefully a return signal to their display too. I'm hoping they can receive the output at the same frequencies they used to send still images," Ernie said.
"It has enough bandwidth?" Lee asked.
"Easily," Ernie assured them. "The output port is optical, but the modulation doesn't require a laser. We figured that out pretty fast because it isn't invasive at all, and they used short millimeter range wavelengths to transmit it before. We can spare a replacement radar unit off a shuttle to send it. It should be simple to feed it unaltered to modulate the unit even though it is a lot of data. What will be hard is archiving all the return transmissions if they respond like we hope. I think that's very important at this early stage, and I already have a couple fabbers making lots of memory to get ahead of it."
"Proceed with the installation as you are able, Mr. Goddard," Gordon ordered. "We may not want you on the flight deck at certain times, like close to jump. So be flexible about breaking off and advise Brownie if any task will require an extended time frame to complete. Brownie, is everybody fueled up, and do you have a proposed target for our next jump?"
"Yes sir, and we have three possible targets on our present vector and none of them are unusual so I was going to take the center star. If I might suggest – we can accelerate at a moderate level and finish this shift. If we have the alternate crew do an extra hour, we'll be able to jump with the main bridge crew and still be relatively fresh for the scan on emergence."
"Sounds like a plan. Advise the other ships how you wish to configure the fleet, and send them the numbers. Maybe in the next system we'll be able to try out sending real time video to the Caterpillars."
* * *
After the alternate crew had a shift and an extra hour Gordon and the 'A' crew returned to the flight deck refreshed, having enjoyed breakfast not sitting at their duty stations. The fleet seemed in good shape with everybody in position and the clocks agreeing. They had five hours and a bit to jump.
"Sleeping at seven tenths of a G is sweet," Lee said. Nobody disagreed.
"What are the Caterpillars doing?" Gordon asked. "Do you have a report off the other shift?"
"They stayed with us until about two hours into the other shift, then took a different vector and aligned on one of the stars I rejected. They put on one of their usual bursts of acceleration and have jumped out already," Brownie said.
"No still images to us or unusual transmissions?" Gordon wondered.
"No sir. They know we have their equipment. My take on it is they will wait until we transmit to use that frequency and system," Brownie said. "There's no spontaneous hooting either."
The jump was uneventful, Lee and Gordon each having their usual internal thrill and relief but not sharing it with anyone. The star was Sol sized, a little bluer but unremarkable. There were more rocky inner planets as was common and one planet in the potential life zone. They swung that way to investigate it closer. There were three gas giants none of which were remarkable or with the complex moon systems of the place they'd left.
The planet that should have moderate temperatures showed spectral lines for free water. It had an enormous moon, so big they turned around a center well away from the surface of the larger body. It might be more accurate to call them a binary planetary system. The smaller one had atmosphere too but very thin. Gordon decided to split the fleet up and orbit the two bodies separately. The High Hopes took the primary. They went off shift before getting near them and let the other flight crew orbit and start a survey.
* * *
Alternate shift commander Vigilant Botrel had a little information when Gordon's crew was rested and returned. The world now filled most of the view through the forward viewports, Vigilant having left the High Hopes oriented to view it directly. It was a rose or dusky pink color.
"Both bodies have a significant magnetic fields. That's likely why the smaller one has retained any atmosphere at all. We have a lot of differing opinions on how they interact, and if they flip back and forth like the field does on Earth."
"There's surface water?" Gordon asked, before scanning the report.
"Yes, although nothing big like Earth's oceans, nor even the seas of Derfhome. More like scattered salt lakes, and quite a few of them have salt flats or salt beaches around them," Vigilant said. "It also has quite a few volcanoes, but nothing huge like Kilimanjaro or Olympus Mons, just lots of little cinder cones in lines across the plains."
"No life then," Gordon said dismissively.
"That isn't certain at all," Vigilant told him. "We do have some free oxygen and much less carbon dioxide than we expected, given the volcanoes. There may be some bacterial life in the water. Some of the lakes display strong coloring. It could be minerals or it could be organisms."
"Alright, I'll read the whole thing carefully. Do you think there is anything down there worth a shuttle landing?" Gordon wondered.
"I can't imagine there are any minerals to exploit we couldn't get cheaper from the brown dwarf sites we've found. The salt deposits are mixed and likely common," Vigilant agreed.
"If there are any bacteria they might be worth having cultures," Thor said. "Some of our most important bacteria for industrial processes have come from extreme environments. Places like deep-sea thermal vents or thermal springs. We could patent them and not even file a claim on this planet if you don't think it is worth it."
"This is a pretty tame landing. No fauna, no hurricanes or anything. I'd like to go down with a sampling crew and get to walk around outside a bit," Lee requested.
Gordon didn't even argue. "You'll be in a pressure suit. There's not enough oxygen to breathe, but if that sounds like fun knock yourself out."
"Yeah, I can turn my mics on and hear the wind even if I can't feel it. Who knows, maybe we'll find diamonds laying around or something," Lee joked.
"If you do, just be sure to bring enough back for all of us," Thor reminded her.
"Take Ernie Goddard," Gordon decided. "He isn't really into planetology, but he's insightful."
* * *
Alex, their shuttle pilot, was smooth. Better than Lee remembered Gordon or either of her parents ever being at landing. She wasn't even sure exactly when they touched down. He had all three pads touching the ground but most of the shuttle's weight still held against the thrust.
Outside a storm of salt blew away in their exhaust. It calmed down quickly as the loosed surface blew away. The salt a few centimeters down was much more consolidated, and the jet was hot enough to melt the surface of the salt that didn't blow away easily, sealing it.
The noise subsided as he eased the throttle back, putting more weight on the landing jacks. His fingers stayed hooked over the T handle, ready to jerk it back hard if the surface was just a crust and gave way. He watched the cameras showing the flat pads at the end of the struts rather than try to feel a drop by the seat of his pants. When the full weight didn't make it sink he blipped the throttle twice with his finger tips making the lander bounce against the suspension. It seemed solid.
When they went out Ernie might be insightful as Gordon said, but he was also cautious. He had a square steel bar sharpened to a point on the bottom, the back two thirds turned down round to fit his hand, and knurled coarsely to give a good grip. He jammed this in the ground before trusting his weight to it, even though the lander seemed stable. The salt was sufficiently thin that small ridges of rock poked through it here and there. A few dark streaks of fine gravel or sand colored it occasionally too. All of them aligned the direction they were going.
"Walk right behind me until we've tested out more than just one spot," he ordered. The pilot stayed with the shuttle and Lee and Ernie headed for the first lake about five hundred meters away. This one they'd picked to sample because it had a deep green color and might have bacteria. It was only about three kilometers across, but almost a hundred kilometers long. They should be able to see the other side easily. The more so because the other side was an abrupt escarpment. The few places it showed any beach at the bottom were far too narrow to consider landing. On this side the salt flat ran right up to the water.
"Did you feel that?" Ernie asked.
"No. I didn't feel anything," Lee said. "Or I just thought it was you poking with the bar."
"Stand still with your feet flat and don't move or shift around," Ernie said. He turned far enough to be able to watch Lee, and leaned on the bar like a hiking staff.
Lee stood like he asked, and was patient, but nothing was happening. She was tired of it quickly and about to suggest they move on when the ground rumbled a little under her feet. It felt like when big trucks had gone by on her visit to Earth.
"OK, I felt that." Lee looked back to make sure it wasn't the shuttle. The lander was quiet and the engines hadn't been restarted.
"That was a little earthquake," Ernie said. "I'm thinking this long lake must be in a rift from a fault line in the crust." He was back-lit a little and Lee could see his face inside the faceplate. He had a serious look, thinking hard about something, so she kept quiet and let him process.
"I have to talk with some of the others, and look up some material on our web faction, but I'm thinking the two planets with interacting magnetic fields and the tidal forces must keep the cores stirred up. That's why we see all these little volcanoes," he decided.
"And why not any big ones?" Lee wondered.
"Maybe it's so active they get leveled out," Ernie speculated, resuming his walk to the water.
"I felt that one," Lee said after they had covered another hundred meters.
"Yes, you're watching for them now," Ernie said.
When they got to the water Ernie stood looking down at it a bit. "I'm surprised. I thought it would get gradually wetter, like a very flat beach, until we were found enough depth we could take a sample." Instead there was an actual ridge a few centimeters high and a quarter meter wide marking the transition from dry to wet. The ridge had lots of parallel lines along it, some with red or grey coloring.
Looking across the calm lake the far escarpment was a dark brown line that dwindled and ran out of sight both ways. Distance made it hazy and concealed any detail. It was hard to assign any scale to it, but they knew from seeing it from orbit that it was about a hundred and fifty meters high.
Ernie laid the steel probing bar down and removed a specimen bottle from his waist. It had a cap on a lanyard to keep it from being lost, and clipped securely to his tool hangers. When he leaned over to get a sample as soon as he touched the water the surface was laced with zig-zag ripples as scores of little creatures fled in fright. Ernie drew his hand back in surprise.
"What the heck was that?" Lee asked.
"I don't know," Ernie admitted. "Even leaning over at arm's length I couldn't see clearly. They seemed to be translucent and very skinny. I saw the shadow of them better than the form."
"Well something obviously eats them or they wouldn't run away like that," Lee said.
"Sounds reasonable, but we haven't seen anything that looks alive," Ernie pointed out.
"Maybe it comes out at night," Lee guessed.
"I wonder if we moved down the edge to a new area, and I reached out and touch behind some, if I could chase them into a specimen bottle?" Ernie said.
"Or maybe get a hunk of salt and toss it in a meter or two from the edge," Lee suggested.
Just then the ground gave a good lurch and Ernie leaning over was caught off balance and sat down hard. Lee standing had to take a couple steps to keep from falling down too. The sudden movement made the water slosh over the ridge and wet it.
"I'm feeling those tremors in the shuttle too," Alex broke in on their comm nervously.
"Well there is your mechanism for making the ridge," Lee said. "It wets the edge over and over. Not often enough to melt it but often enough that each time it dries it builds it up a little."
"And we don't have to chase our little critters because that stranded a few of them on the ridge," Ernie said. He was carefully picking them up and dropping them in the specimen bottle. After that he dipped a sample of the water with another bottle and poured some in with the little creatures. The third bottle he also got water, but with sediment off the bottom too.
"It's so thick with salt it's syrupy," Ernie said.
"And maybe whatever gives it that dark green color," Lee added. "Scoop some of the salt from the edge there and I think we're done."
Ernie tried to just scoop it as she'd said with the edge of the bottle but it was too hard. He broke it up with his bar and put some chunks in his last bottle. The ground did a little dance again and they both had to skip a few steps to keep from going down, then the water in front of them suddenly swirled away and dropped. There was a drop off about another hundred meters away and they could see the water still pouring over that and the level beyond dropping rapidly. The surface was dancing with white caps like it was windy, but there was no wind to be heard.
"We need to get back on the shuttle! Walk fast!" Ernie ordered. He tossed the heavy iron tool away as it slowed him down, and followed Lee in their trail across the salt. Every six or seven meters they had to sidestep or stagger forward as the ground moved under them regularly. When they got about half way back a shock threw them down again and there was a deep roar behind them. They sat up but Ernie held a hand out to keep Lee from standing. "Look across the lake," he said pointing back.
The far escarpment was behind a cloud of dust except a few stretches that held firm. The rest was crumbling in massive landslides. The view was soon obscured as the water burst back over the near lip in a frothy wall.
"Lift off Alex! Get out of here!" Ernie shouted, louder than necessary. "Flood coming!"
It wasn't a full second before the engine's roar swept a minor sandstorm of salt over them and the water hit from the other direction.
Lee just had time to see the hot jet of the shuttle lifting for open sky before the water swept her along on her back, spinning her around and covering her faceplate with a slurry of dirty water and bubbles. She spun until she was dizzy and bumped and scraped along, hitting something hard enough to really hurt a couple times. It seemed to go on a really long time before the fast motion became a grinding drag that was loud in her helmet, and the water dropped until it didn't have the power to carry her along. She was flat on her back hard aground, but the water was still flowing against her left side hard enough to splash over her.
Ernie was on com so he was alive, but he was going on and on in angry tones. He ran through all the nasty words Lee had ever heard in less than a minute and didn't slow down for another two or three. Some of the short expletives were said with such vehemence Lee decided she wasn't going to ask anybody what they meant. Some of them she was pretty sure weren't even English.
Finally he said, "Are you there, Lee?"
"Yeah, flat on my back. I got smacked a few times and I think it's going to hurt later, but my suit seems to be sealed and working fine. I'm going to sit up."
There was water as far as she could see when she sat up. The salt and rocks were just starting to show through it as the water spread out. There wasn't any slope to the land so it would take forever to drain away. Maybe most of it would just evaporate, Lee decided. After all that's how all the salt had gotten here. Her face plate shed drops quickly and she looked around. There was something dark quite a ways away. It was hard to gauge the distance. It might be two or three hundred meters.
"I might see you," Lee said. "Can you sit up like me so I can tell?"
"I'm not sure," Ernie said, surprising her. "My suit seems OK too, but I'm face down and my leg really hurts. I'm going to try to roll away from the leg that hurts so I don't put weight on it."
The gasp over com was loud and Ernie said, "Oh, shit, shit, shit. I think I busted it... Sorry."
"I've heard worse," Lee reminded him, "recently."
"I'm going to brace myself up sort-of-sitting. I know I can't stand," Ernie said.
The distant dark spot changed shape a little and there was a specular reflection from it.
"I see you," Lee said. "I'll be right over in just a few minutes.
"Ground Party, this is the Sharp Claws overhead. The High Hopes is over your horizon, but your shuttle contacted us when it was high enough, and we can relay to the High Hopes. We've already dispatched our own shuttle and it is braking behind us right now and will be able to land and recover you. Please actuate your emergency beacon for him to home on."
Lee was embarrassed. She hadn't thought to do that at all. She got a finger under the recessed tab and yanked it out.
"We have your signal... And the shuttle says they have it too. They should be arriving within about ten minutes. We'll still be able to get confirmation before we drop below your radio horizon too.”
"Ernie hurt his leg and can't stand. Can we get some help getting him aboard?" Lee asked.
"Our shuttle has crew of two. They dropped off and burned before taking time to suit up. But when they are down one will suit up and help you. There's a hoist to lift him aboard and the medical kit has a over splint for suits to immobilize his leg."
"That's going to be fun," Ernie said.
"I think I see their burn coming in," Lee said. "Unless it's just a flaming meteor dropping on us. It's been that kind of day." She kept sloshing along toward Ernie.
Ernie laughed despite himself.
The hot spark grew brighter and looked like it was going to race past but then tilted down and came towards them. When it got really close a storm of salt slush and brine blew away from the exhaust and Lee turned away from it and bent over until it stopped.
"You dropped so close the blast was hot on my back!" Ernie objected.
"Well you said you can't walk," the pilot said. "It won't be any fun to be dragged to the hoist either."
"You're only about fifty meters away from him," Lee said. She was about halfway there.
"Yeah, I see you on camera," the pilot said. "My mate is suiting up. I'm going to leave him back there in the hold with you two and climb right back to orbit. I'll keep the boost low and you can just lie on the deck."
By the time Lee got to Ernie the hold door was open and the copilot had a hoist extended and rode down it himself with a foot in the lift basket and one hand on the cable. He unclipped the cable and dragged the entire casualty basket over to Ernie.
"I think what we'll try here is tuck the basket right up against you and then rolling you in." the man said. "I'm skipping the splint. It looks like it will just be awkward to fit in the basket. Can you roll on your side at all? That would help."
"Yes. I'm going to turn my mic off though. I'll listen so you can tell me what to do," Ernie said.
"I uh, OK," he agreed. He got one edge almost under Ernie and rolled him right in. He still yelled loud enough to be heard through the suit. When he grabbed the loop of line at the head of the basket and pulled it Lee took the other side and helped. It slid pretty easily on the wet stuff.
The copilot rode up with the basket and then clipped a grab-bar on and lowered it to Lee. When she reached the hatch he already had two tie-downs across the whole basket, leaving Ernie in it. He offered a hand in to Lee and then swung the hoist back in and secured it.
"Lie there if you would please. I'll put a cargo strap across you and do that same for myself.” Once she was secure Lee could hear him fumble around. Then he said, "Ready to lift Mr. Ho'omanawanui." The acceleration was very moderate, but Ernie didn't turn his mic back on.
* * *
"So... Pretty tame landing," Gordon quoted Lee when she had com to the High Hopes again.
"Well, we dealt with it," Lee said. "We got good data. Some organisms, which we didn't expect."
Gordon sighed. "Yes, and the medic on the Retribution is anxious to see them. You are going to leave Ernie with them for now as they have better facilities on a military ship to treat his leg. He'll look at you too before you return."
"They're on the secondary body right? Can this shuttle do a transfer that far?" Lee asked.
"They could but they are changing orbits over to this body to cut time," Gordon said. "The doc wants to see Ernie quickly."
"He's out of it now. The copilot, uh... "
"Marty," Gordon supplied.
"Marty injected him with something through the medical port," Lee said.
"Yes, he's comfortable, but if the leg is really messed up he could still go shocky on us. Their medic is coming aboard when you get to the Retribution and get him out of the suit in zero G. That will probably be easier on him than cutting him out of the suit, and we get to save the suit too," Gordon said.
"Maybe. You should see what a mess they are. We didn't get any punctures or leaks, but all the finish is abraded off the back of my helmet, and it's tough stuff," Lee said.
"How do you feel?" Gordon finally asked.
"I got bumped around pretty hard," Lee admitted. "I'm going to turn interesting colors a few places, but I'm sure I didn't break anything like Ernie or it would hurt a whole lot worse."
"Let them look you over anyway," Gordon insisted.
"No problem. It sets a good example if nothing else," Lee said.
"The suits will get inspected and maybe refurbished," Gordon said. "The shuttle will bring you back to the High Hopes and the Sharp Claws will be near by that time for the shuttle to return. It'll be a couple days even with the bone knitting machines before we get Ernie back. At least now they get the bone fixed before the muscle starts to deteriorate, and then you need rehab too."
"Would you tell them thank them for the pickup? They got to us really fast," Lee said. “And Alex did a marvelous job lifting. He didn't hesitate at all when Ernie yelled at him to lift."
“Yes I will," Gordon promised. "I had to order him to continue to orbit or he'd have sat it back down to pick you guys up. That would have been way too complicated since he wouldn't have had sufficient mass to get back to orbit. He'd have had to hop to a safer area and wait for somebody to sit down beside him and transfer mass. Who can even guarantee another area would be safe?" Gordon asked. "He seemed to be having second thoughts for lifting and felt he abandoned you."
"Not at all!" Lee said, surprised. "If that water had tipped the shuttle over, or undercut a landing leg pad, it would have been a real mess. We might have lost the shuttle and been trying to cut him out of it."
"You can mention that if he brings it up," Gordon agreed. "That's pretty much what I told him, but I'm not sure he really feels that way."
"So, I'm guessing you probably don't want samples from any of the other lakes?" Lee asked.
"You're getting better at this guessing," Gordon told her.
Chapter 11
"Since we didn't get a wider sample like we planned, I'm going to orbit a claims satellite here and claim the whole system. I don't want to risk another landing. Let somebody with specialized equipment do it later," Gordon decided.
"Let's plan on breaking orbit and start another leisurely exit from this star system our next shift. We can time it so we jump and have time to look around the area of our entry again. I'm comfortable with that," Gordon told Brownie. "Do you have any targets to suggest?"
"There are two stars along our general course in range. Neither has any spectroscopic signs of being unique. Pretty much a toss-up which one to go to."
"Do the one with the easiest jump then. Inform everyone when we will assemble away from these planets, and your planned course and timing," Gordon ordered. "Thor you have the conn, I'm taking a break early to do some other work before the alternate crew comes on."
"Aye. I have the conn," Thor acknowledged.
* * *
"Thor, our caterpillars have returned and taken up station orbiting far out around both these planets," Brownie informed him. "Do you want to try using the video rig?"
"Heavens no!" Thor waved a true hand at the new equipment attached to the command console. "That's Gordon's toy and I wouldn't want to spoil his fun to try it out. Besides, I don't really have anything to say to them. Seems silly to fire it up and just wave hello."
Lee covered her mouth with her hand trying to hide her smile. It didn't work.
* * *
"Is everybody prepared to leave and informed of our numbers?" Gordon asked, when he next sat in the command chair.
"We are in good formation thanks to the previous shift. The fleet reports no critical deficiencies and everybody has our course. The clocks agree. I've scheduled a seven tenths G burn again. We are on count for first joint movement twenty minutes from now and a jump a bit more than five hours into our next shift, if that meets with your approval," Brownie said.
"Entirely," Gordon agreed. "I'm going to inform the Caterpillars if this rig works as planned. I'm still a little limited as I can't create objects in it like we could with our own animation and graphics software. I'm sure they can in glorious 3D. I'm simply going to keep my com pad handy and show them things on it. It will be a step forward knowing they can see it immediately without any analysis. We'll keep this private to our bridge. Mr. Burris you can monitor the command channel for us and pass anything critical along.
"Brownie, give me a wide shot of the sky where we are going with the target star circled by hand with a yellow line," he requested. The image soon showed up on his pad. He followed the instructions he'd been given and used both true hands to activate the display. It showed his own face and a little behind him. He opened up the angle to show more of the bridge behind him.
"Are we transmitting?" Gordon asked.
"Yes sir, we show power being drawn," Jon Burris told him. "We show modulation. If it makes any sense to them we should get some sort of reply."
"Will it switch over to their signal? Or do we have to cut the feed from this, uh... I guess I call it a camera," Gordon decided.
"I have no idea what their unit will do internally," Burris said. "If we see transmissions coming in and nothing shows we can isolate the unit and play our recording."
"Never mind," Gordon said. "The display just split."
The unit gave a hoot. He hadn't known it had audio for sure. Beside him at the right was a Caterpillar. Gordon did the gesture to open up the display wider.
Gordon held his display up with their intended jump target for the alien. The Caterpillar turned to something off camera and let loose a lot of high volume noise. He seemed agitated. The alien stopped communicating off camera and started making motions. He held up a tentacle and swept it to the side. When Gordon didn't respond he made a low hoot and repeated it slower.
"I think he wants you to swipe the display and see something that's off screen right now," Jon Burris said. "They did that with me on the separator machine."
"OK, I remember that," Gordon held a straight finger by the left side of the image and swiped it smoothly to the right. The display changed screens smoothly. The new image was the same star field, although rendered in better definition with more of the fainter stars. The 3D effect couldn't do much with the distances involved. Gordon checked it carefully against the one on his tablet. The circle around their intended star was gone and the alternative target was bracketed by four lines like crosshairs, but they didn't meet in the middle.
"Is this a suggestion?" Gordon asked. "First time we have what resembles a conversation and they start bossing us around. I don't really care for that."
"Well, it's the only other reasonable target star in that direction without going a good twenty degrees off our nominal track," Brownie explained. "At least they aren't pressing us to take a radical detour."
"I hear you, but why does this bother me so much?" Gordon asked.
"You're pretty much used to having your own way," Lee pointed out. Brownie was relieved, because that had been his thought too, but he didn't have the nerve to say it to Gordon's face. Gordon looked disgruntled, but made no quick reply.
"And I'm inclined to think the Caterpillars are warning us of something rather than just bossing us around. They haven't been aggressive at all. The target star might be one of those full of debris, hard to navigate or something," Lee suggested.
"Thor, advise me," Gordon ordered him.
"I can see both sides," Thor admitted. "I can't see the Caterpillars having an interest for themselves. Unless we don't understand at all, their home territory is off the other side of the Badgers, so they aren't saying – 'Ours. Stay away'. So, yeah, I'm given to agreeing with Lee it's probably for our own good. But I'm like you. I rarely appreciate people managing me for my own good. I'd like to know why, but since we can't ask them yet it will take some time and resources if you want to find out why."
"If there's danger I can't justify taking unarmed civilian ships into the system," Gordon reasoned.
"So send one, or ask for a volunteer," Lee suggested. "With this crazy bunch if you suggest it's dangerous they'll fall all over each other to be first in line. Just phrase it to the Fargoers as a bet."
"Send the Roadrunner if you want something fast, or ask one of the cruisers if you want a well armed presence," Thor said.
"Why did you think of armed right away?" Gordon asked him.
"Well, we didn't bring all these missiles and stuff because the universe is a safe pleasant place to roam around unarmed," Thor said.
"Yeah, point taken," Gordon agreed. "I tell you what. We'll compromise. Brownie, figure a new heading and notify everybody for the alternative star, but we'll ask if anybody will volunteer to go check out the other system. I'm disposed to send the Roadrunner or the Sharp Claws if they express interest. Are the two target stars close enough for a high probability jump between them?"
"Yes, they are closer together than either of them are from here," Brownie said.
"OK, then. Give me a feed for the tablet showing our alternate target circled. That should be clear and please them. Mr. Burris, use my name and transmit a fleet-wide request for volunteers to scout out the first choice. Make sure they understand that we think there may be a hazard there. I don't want to put anybody on the spot. If Roadrunner or Sharp Claws don't volunteer that's fine. I'll consider whether to use anyone else when we see our responses." Gordon showed the revised com tablet star field to the pickup.
"I've alerted everybody we are altering our exit course. Revised numbers should be sent and acknowledged in about ten minutes," Brownie said.
"All of ours volunteer as well as the Dart," Burris said.
"No, I won't be responsible for that," Gordon said immediately. "They have people on board vital to establishing relations with our societies. No way will I risk them."
"Your choice who then," Burris said.
"We'll send the Sharp Claws," Gordon decided. "I'm coming back on the command circuit and tell them myself. I'm shutting down the feed of the Caterpillars' display and reducing it. They don't seem disposed to say any more."
"Perhaps that's their custom," Lee said. "There's a lot to be said for shutting up once somebody agrees with you. Some idiots will talk until they kill the deal they just made."
"Heh, good point," Gordon agreed. Captain Frost appeared on his regular display.
"We've had some discussion. The Caterpillars want us to avoid the star we picked at first. There is some opinion they may be warning us to avoid a hazard," Gordon said, "but we are not children to be herded. You are near as fast as a courier and armed. I'd like to know what we are bypassing. Especially if it is a hazard at our back. If anyone doesn't want to go put them off on a shuttle and we'll take them aboard. Are you still game to go?"
"Yes sir. I'm offering right now to transfer anyone who wants put off."
"Very well. How are you on fuel?" Gordon asked.
"We're at seventy-three percent. Good for two jumps maybe three if they're easy ones." Frost said. "I do have one question. What are your orders if the Caterpillars interfere with our run or jump, since they seem opposed to this?"
"If they physically snatch you with those little tug-drones I'd let them do so. They have returned every ship they took aboard unharmed. I really wouldn't argue with them or alter course unless they actually fire on you. We have to draw the line somewhere," Gordon decided.
"I wonder if they have any custom similar to our firing across the bow?" Frost said.
"If you are still there after they fire on you, then I'd consider that a possibility," Gordon said.
"So we can probably tell they are seriously shooting at us if we are dead?" Frost asked, amused.
"Given their lead in tech, that probably states the case fairly well," Gordon agreed.
"We still volunteer," Frost insisted. "Nobody is responding to the offer to put them off the ship for this, and I'm really curious as to what's in that system."
"Thank you. So are we. You can time your run to jump as it pleases you. Ask Brownie for any data you are lacking. And good luck."
"We shall hang back and not form up with you. Perhaps the Caterpillars won't figure out we are going to do a solo to the other system," Frost said. "See you over in the alternate target."
* * *
"Beginning movement in five minutes. First burn at three tenths of a G to sort out loose gear and people, then ramping up to seven tenths at the ten minute mark," Brownie warned. Everybody favored the gentler approach instead of the immediate high G burns they'd all used at the start of this voyage. That was a military habit and a busted crock or a sprained ankle leaving every system had convinced them it was counterproductive. Everybody slept better at a little less acceleration too. A well rested crew performed better.
"Caterpillars are pacing us at a distance," Brownie added after they increased the boost.
The fleet was a couple hours into their run before the Sharp Claws broke orbit behind them and followed. It wouldn't be immediately apparent they were aiming at the other star since they were in the same approximate direction. The main crew went off shift and off-shift crew took the bridge. Mid-shift the Caterpillars must have noticed the Sharp Claws was on a divergent course as they abruptly altered course. They also cut back their acceleration so the Sharp Claws would catch up.
"They want to jump at the same time instead of getting ahead of them," Choi Eun-sook decided.
"Yes, Ms. Choi. I'm a bit surprised they haven't called on this new communicator," Botrel the off-shift commander said, waving at the added equipment. "Whatever is in that system they were going to avoid it too, but now they are accompanying our comrades. If there is danger there then it is remarkable they changed course. I hope they are both safe."
"Well they must have knowledge of the system to warn us off. That implies whatever danger might be there is survivable," Choi reasoned.
"Yes, or they could have such good remote sensing they are aware of it from here. One does wonder if they have jump drones?" Botrel speculated further. "All we've seen are those small tug vehicles, and they would seen to be very limited. I'm just as happy they seem calm about it. If it precipitated a great deal of drama I'd have to decide if it was cause to awaken Gordon. That's something I avoid."
"Oh yes... I'd want exploding spaceships and blood on the deck before I'd do that," Choi agreed.
* * *
The rest of their shift passed without significant event. Toward the end there was a message from the Sharp Claws. Captain Frost awakening to his shift simply said: "Well... We have an escort."
Gordon didn't blink at the news and resumed his seat with a pleasant, "Thank you, Mr. Botrel."
The Sharp Claws started but accelerated faster than their leisurely seven tenths G and jumped out at almost the same time. They were far enough removed the wave front of that event didn't reach them before they were gone.
The star field blinked into a new configuration when they jumped, but it was subtle. There weren't that many stars both close and very bright in their view field. The target star close in front of them was bright yellow and had a huge companion planet orbiting close to the star. Close enough Gordon would have to have a very good reason to send any of his ships down so close to look at it.
"No artificial chatter," Brownie said very quickly. "Clear sky."
"Ping the system hard then," Gordon said. "Use the Retribution system to do it."
"Aye, sir. Done. Our own radar showing nothing close yet. We have a disk visible on the other side of the star. It has to be fairly far out because that big planet will have swept the inner system clear of any smaller objects," Brownie said.
"Let's do a slow lateral burn to see what's behind the star," Gordon decided. "Take us to the side towards the star the Sharp Claws is visiting so they can rendezvous easier with us."
"Aye, sending instructions to the fleet to do that," Brownie obeyed.
"Do you think there's any chance there is something more accessible outside the inner zone that giant was swept empty?" Gordon asked. "Perhaps some belts of minor planets?"
"No way we'll see them optically," Brownie said. "We'll know in a few hours when the ping from the Retribution echoes back to us." Gordon knew that. Was he making nervous chatter? Brownie wondered. And if he was, why was he that nervous? He trusted Gordon's instincts.
Brownie called the burn and the fleet performed it together with practiced precision. Nothing happened for long enough they started thinking about shift end and getting some sleep.
"I know we don't need it right now. We have resources from the brown dwarfs we never imagined to exploit, but it's a shame the entire wealth of the inner system is locked up in such a inaccessible hunk so close to the star," Lee said.
"I'm sure by the time we need it we'll have robots that can survive the heat," Thor speculated.
"Maybe we'll be able to economically synthesize heavier elements before we need to mine such inhospitable places," Gordon suggested. "Or separate them from low concentrations."
"I was thinking more like propelling a big asteroid into it and busting it up," Lee admitted. "Hit it hard enough at the right angle and the chunks would be raised into higher orbits too."
"I hope not," Brownie said. "Somebody would use it for a weapon eventually."
"I wouldn't use it on a populated world," Lee objected.
"You wouldn't," Brownie agreed. "I can imagine the races we met using something like that on the Biters if they continued to raid them. Trouble is, I don't know that the Biters have it in them to reform. They may be hardwired with aggressive behavior too deeply to change."
"If anything can scare them into moderation the Caterpillars should do it," Lee said. "What in the world were they thinking to fire on strangers in kilometer long spaceships?"
"That's what I mean," Brownie said. "They don't think, they emote and react like a territorial animal. They have to think to build ships and have a civilization, but apparently they don't apply it to social situations so well... Entry burst!" he interrupted himself. "That's the right area to be from the alternative target we skipped, and likely to be the Caterpillars because it is a huge emission."
"Are they in past the Retribution's radar ping?" Gordon asked.
"No, their entry burst and the ping will cross each other. They entered before the Retribution emitted that ping out and they should be seeing it now or in a few seconds. I don't have an accurate enough distance to locate them within better than a couple light minutes. They entered awfully deep and fast, even for them. They sure didn't stay long at that other star."
"Tell everybody no more active radar until I give then an all clear," Gordon ordered.
"Message sent," Brownie confirmed, "but I'm pretty sure they didn't enter inside our wave front."
"Understood, I have other concerns," Gordon said.
"Wow! Big entry," Brownie said. "That is outside our wave front! We'll see what it paints, and unfortunately they'll see us. Somebody overjumped the Caterpillars hard on a vector a bit away from us. Maybe another Caterpillar ship?" Brownie guessed. "Or maybe a couple of them doing a hot synchronized entry?"
"I wonder if Caterpillars have factions?" Lee thought out loud. "Might one Caterpillar be hostile to another? And how could we tell one from another?"
"Nope, the new guy just sent out a whole bunch of frequency shifting radar. It's nothing like what we've seen the Caterpillars using," Brownie informed them. "No hooting audio either. The Caterpillars don't seem to be braking at all. In fact they may still be accelerating. That would suggest to me they are being pursued. OK, they are maneuvering hard laterally to bypass the other ship."
"The Caterpillars will still see us with their radar return in better detail, but just not as fast as they saw our radar hot," Lee said. “They both know we are here."
"Given the angle and their velocity insystem the second ship won't see us in any great detail. Even then not for several hours. Then they will have a long braking burn and need significant time if they wish to come back to us," Gordon said, analyzing the whole situation. "We have time to move."
"You anticipated this!" Brownie accused Gordon. He knew Gordon was a brilliant tactician, but this amazed him. The second big entry had totally surprised him, but Gordon anticipated it.
Gordon shrugged. "Seemed obvious they were being chased to show up this fast. I'm just sorry we didn't have a few hours where we were hidden. I tried."
"Are we going to run to jump and get out of this system?" Thor asked.
"I see no advantage to that," Gordon said. "If they can even think about chasing a Caterpillar ship we aren't going to outrun it. Being chased from behind is not a desirable position. The more so when you don't have data on their capabilities or psychology. Running seems to trigger pursuit responses in some organisms, and we may display confidence and give them pause to stand our ground. Besides, we have room to maneuver here and no bodies close to complicate things. I'm curious what the new ship is like, what sort of size and shape? We won't know that until after our shift ends."
"What of the Sharp Claws?" Lee asked. "What do you think happened to them?"
"I believe they shall turn up, and hopefully help explain this to us," Gordon said.
Lee was glad he didn't think them destroyed, but was afraid to ask more.
"They are accelerating!" Brownie said surprised. "They're going to pass awfully close to the star too. A whole lot closer than we could think about doing."
"They're going to slingshot around the star and come back to us, aren't they?" Thor asked.
"I hope so. I'm encouraged they haven't run off and left us to deal with this vessel. I suspect it is bad news and they knew somehow it was in the other system. This is outside their normal territory so all I can imagine is they have some terrific remote sensing or jump capable spy drones. We're past shift end and making the alternate crew wait to take the bridge. May I suggest we go get our rest now? If I have the right of it and they return to this side of the system tomorrow we'll be happy of it."
Chapter 12
"My mind wouldn't stop racing, trying to figure out what could be chasing the Caterpillars. I had to turn on the sleep-inducer," Lee complained. "I hate that thing. If I dream, I don't remember it, and when I wake up it's always a jolt." She brought an extra after breakfast cup of coffee along to the bridge and looked like she needed it.
"Be glad it works at all for you," Thor said. "They've tried every variation to make it work for Derf and the results were not pretty. Nobody will try out any of the new programs now for any amount of money."
"What did it do?" Lee demanded.
"There's plenty of complicated professional reports on the web fraction if you want to read it. In simple layman's terms it left all the subjects just a bit twitchy. Scientists don't like broadly judgmental terms like crazy, but for all practical purposes that's how it left them. A bit paranoid or obsessive compulsive, and very slow to wear off, even with some help."
"How could you tell with some people?" Gordon asked.
"Well that's always a problem," Thor admitted. Then he did a slow scanning eye sweep side to side that left Lee gasping for air she laughed so hard. Thor simply looked hurt as if he didn't get it.
"I laid awake a while thinking on it too," Gordon admitted. "I'm convinced of just a few solid facts. I think the Caterpillars are perhaps the most principled of the races we've met. They have acted with integrity from the very first meeting when they had no idea who or what was aboard the Sharp Claws. When they ran into them while pursuing a Biter ship they made a very quick decision to cease fire on the Sharp Claws without a firm identification. Certainly before it became evident to them other Biters were aggressively pursuing the Sharp Claws. Tactically they were in a very dangerous situation and could have excused themselves for assuming everybody in similar sized ships were enemies in common. They put themselves at risk by giving the Sharp Claws a window to fire on them.
"Now that we have a radar return on this new ship we know it is even bigger than the Caterpillars' ship. It's as long but almost half again as wide with significant structures sticking up from the plate shape. But we have almost no knowledge of their behavior beyond seeing them in pursuit of the Caterpillars. We have no idea what happened in the other system so we would be presuming a lot to assume the Caterpillars are innocent and the other aggressive at this point.
“The Caterpillars saw the Sharp Claws use their Greaser on a Biter ship, but from an extreme angle. I'm not certain if they understood what sort of weapon was being used. They were passing almost head on right after entry and had other things holding their attention. They probably just saw the Bitter ship break up and no idea how. I have yet to see evidence of them possessing beam weapons, and we know almost nothing about the missiles they command destructed, because we didn't see them perform on a target."
"You mostly stated facts to support your one real conclusion that they are principled," Brownie said. "I don't mean to be critical, but you tend to assume if you tick off all the facts we'll come to the same conclusions as you. We don't. You think like a tactician. You skip the intermediate steps and come straight to the conclusion. It's sort of like when Mr. Burris gave Eddie sudden inspiration on how the brown dwarves might be formed. It was obvious to Burris even though Ernie had the superior technical knowledge, because just having the facts didn't mean he had the insight to integrate them. So humor us and expound a bit more on what else this should tell us."
Gordon looked a surprised at that then frowned in concentration. If Derf could blush he'd likely have done so at the praise. He was more used to Thor giving him a hard time.
"I'll expand on it. I certainly don't have a comprehensive vision sufficiently broad to expound on it. When I say they are principled I mean in a way that we understand. It's in a way of which I personally approve. It fits my... style. They know very little about us but tried to warn us off visiting the alternate target. Why? Some people I know would grab snacks and sit back to watch the show – unconcerned about the fate of strangers. We have traded with them a little. Are they keeping us exclusive for their own uses and advantage from a rival in trade, or saving us from something hostile to lesser races?
"Even their treatment of the Biters is measured. Once they were fired on first they could be excused if they didn't take any chances and blasted any Biter ship on sight. Instead they have captured a few, may they have the joy of that, because I doubt they will have any reasonable discussion with them. But they tried. They will have seen what sort of weapons the Biters have on the captured ships and I fear this may give them a false impression."
"How so?" Lee asked.
"They have no idea how long we've known each other. They may assume we are all on very similar technological levels since they found us together. They are more advanced in drives and manipulating gravity, but so are the Badgers with gravity. There is so much public information available about weapons it will be impossible to hide it from the Badgers and Bills. If they want, they will have the same sort of weapons we do in maybe ten years. But the Caterpillars don't know that process hasn't had time to work out. They found us all in an improbable and temporary state.
"They may think we are potential client races who will appreciate protection. The fact they are being pursued tells me there are at least two races with more advanced tech, and they may not be friendly to each other. We have seen with the new-met races that all technologies don't advance at the same rate. Not to insult Lee or other humans but they seem to surpass at killing efficiently and in quantity. I'm just glad we Derf got a good treaty and have integrated into the human sphere of influence, because I wouldn't want them as enemies. I know Derf are a minor player in the human sphere.
"I expect the Caterpillars to make a very fast, close, cometary pass around this star,” Gordon finished. “When they get here I want to be sure in my own mind how to act if things happen suddenly. Are the Caterpillars our allies or are we neutrals? They certainly have not been our enemies."
"In the end how do you decide?" Lee asked. "What matters?"
Gordon smiled. "If everybody makes nice-nice and talks it will be complicated. Then we leave it to the politicians and time to sort out. If somebody has no patience and starts shooting that makes it real easy to take sides. I have little patience with anybody who is quick to fire."
"I wish we had a report from the Sharp Claws," Lee said. "That would tell us a lot." She sat and stared at Gordon a while, frowning harder. “You just look too smug. You have an idea what's going on with the Sharp Claws and you won't say anything you aren't almost one hundred percent positive about. No wonder you do good predictions, because we never hear the bad guesses."
"A person would look foolish to share every crazy theory they are capable of imagining," Gordon said. "No, worse, it doesn't just look foolish, it is foolish."
"You still owe me instruction. Write down what foolish thing may be possible with the Sharp Claws and give it to me to read later," Lee demanded.
"For your eyes only?" Gordon asked.
"Yes, I swear it."
Gordon retrieved a paper pad from his console drawer and scratched out a quick note. He folded it over and, stretching, handed it to Lee. She put it in her com pad cover without looking at it.
"You're thinking the same thing. I can see it in your eyes. You can't hide a thing from me," Gordon accused her.
"You've taken up mind reading?" Lee asked him.
"Yes, every move of your head and twitch of your eye for almost sixteen years is a code nobody could help but learn. The way you hold your lips and the tilt of your eyebrows all add up. The harder you try to look blank the louder it shouts."
"I'm not that transparent," Lee objected.
The rest of the bridge crew looked back and forth, staying safely silent.
"Then write down what you think, the same as I did, and hand it to me," Gordon demanded.
Lee looked miffed but complied.
"This is torture," Thor finally said.
"How so?" Lee asked.
"We can't bet on the notes being the same or not," Thor complained.
Ha-bob-bob-brie rarely spoke, but did now. "Brother," he said, to soften his counsel to Thor, "you have been around the Fargoers too long."
* * *
The com buzzer woke Gordon. When he slapped the key Vigilant Botrel appeared looking stressed, and peered at him out of the screen. "I suggest you rouse yourself and prepare to start your shift early. The Caterpillars have made the loop around the star even faster than we imagined. They appear to be aimed at us and have to be planning an amazing braking action if they aren't going to overshoot us."
"They're both running noisy then?" Gordon asked.
"The Caterpillars are hooting and gobbling from time to time. They haven't transmitted any 3D that’s shown up on our rig. The ship chasing has kept up a regular transmission of radar that seems to automatically run through a broad frequency range cycle. The Caterpillars don't seem to favor running their radar continuously."
"What about the ship following them?" Gordon demanded. "Is it keeping up?"
"They looped around the star too, but nowhere near as close as the Caterpillars, and they took a lot more delta-v to reverse direction and continue the pursuit."
"Ummm," Gordon made a satisfied grunt. "They've played this game before and the Caterpillars know their advantage over the other type of ship."
"Yes," Vigilant agreed readily. His face said it was a new thought though. "I'd have to agree this isn't a first encounter and they are aware of their adversary's weaknesses. I have no idea why the Caterpillars transmit audio. They know we don't understand it and there is no other Caterpillar ship to receive it."
"Maybe the guys chasing them understand it," Gordon reasoned.
Vigilant blinked processing the idea... "But, still, what would they be saying?"
"Why, they're probably taunting them," Gordon said. "Something like – Too hot for you? – as they whipped around the star so close. Who knows? Maybe they are reading them the riot act."
Vigilant face said he was completely uncomprehending.
"Look it up on the web fraction," Gordon told him. "It's a human thing not Derf. Colonial English era. Think of it as a fair warning. I'll be up as soon as I clean up and have some breakfast. Have you awakened the rest of my crew?"
"No sir. I was waiting to make sure you wanted to take the shift early before doing that."
"Good thinking, but go ahead and get them all up now," Gordon ordered.
* * *
"Brownie, send a notice to the entire fleet," Gordon said. "Pretty it up in polite neutral language but make it clear. If we come under attack from this new alien presence and are unable to deal with it, then each commander is free to flee the area on separate heading and make their way home on their own. He may be fast but he can't chase down more than one of us before the rest have dispersed in every direction. If the Badgers want to stay teamed up or stick with an armed ship that's up to them, but the more paths the aliens have to follow the harder for them."
"You want to read my copy first?" Brownie asked.
"Nah... You say things gentler than me. Crap, everybody seems to be more eloquent than me, except maybe Lee." That got him a sharp look, but Lee didn't disagree either. Even Ha-bob-bob-brie, her biggest fan, knew subtlety wasn't her strong point.
"The Dart informs us if we are forced to disperse they shall follow us," Brownie relayed.
"Would you inquire why?" Gordon requested. He'd have thought they'd want to go with the heavily armed Retribution if anyone.
Brownie gave a little snort. "They say because you are lucky."
"That's interesting. The Fargoers just think I'm sneaky. I kind of like lucky," Gordon admitted.
"Devious, plotting, conspiring, underhanded... It probably looks lucky," Thor admitted.
"Your faith is also reassuring," Gordon said, smiling. "How long until they get here, Brownie?"
"They are decelerating at a little more than sixty-two G, which will bring them to a stop about fifty thousand kilometers from us. They ramped up to that over just a few minutes and are holding it. I suspect that is their full emergency thrust or near it to take full advantage of the lead they have over their pursuer. Call it thirty minutes and they will be at rest to us. The others are lagging behind and won't catch up until the caterpillars have been at rest about twelve minutes."
"I'd like the Retribution and The Champion William and us all on a plane facing their approach. Space us equally twenty thousand kilometers around common center. Our unarmed friends I suggest withdraw behind us, well apart. I want full crews on weapons, everybody suited up. Greasers charged and other crew in a safe shutdown condition by the time the trailing ship is in missile range. I intend to direct fire and not be distracted to actively fight the High Hopes unless it becomes necessary." Right now Gordon was wishing he still had the heavy cruiser Murphy's Law with them to match the firepower of the Retribution.
"You do anticipate problems with the new ship then?" Captain Fussy of the Dart asked.
Thor rolled his eyes for Gordon's benefit, but held his tongue. Lee just looked incredulous.
"Yes, they didn't chase our acquaintances in the Caterpillar ship so aggressively because they forgot something in the other system and they want to return it," Gordon said in patient normal tones.
"That's sarcasm, isn't it?" Fussy decided.
"It is, yes. If it were a Biter ship would I have to explain my reasoning?" Gordon asked.
"No, I admit I'd have drawn the same conclusions readily," Fussy admitted. "I'm afraid I sound naive. I had to look that word up."
"You sound hopeful," Gordon said, to let the Badger down easy. "I have the burden of command and responsibility for your safety as well as ours. I can be hopeful, but I can't afford to act hopeful if it puts you at risk. I'll be delighted if the new folks stay reasonable, but I can't count on it."
"We appreciate your protection," Fussy said. "Thank you for explaining." Gordon took that for a leave taking and said no more.
"Retribution, do you have enough angle on the following ship to ping them hard without laying a damaging power density on the Caterpillars?" Gordon asked. "I'd like you to run it manually instead of slaving it to our boards so you can turn your ship and manage power systems to get the maximum effect.
"Yes sir," Captain Aristotle replied. "How aggressive do you want me to get with him?"
"I believe I'd like him to know he's dealing with a warship, even if we are smaller and slower than him or the Caterpillars. Lay full power on him at a very narrow angle now while you don't need the power for other systems. Assume I'd like to count the hull rivets on that big plate if they use them."
"Aye, Gordon," Aristotle said laughing. He left his mic live for them. "Mr. Ellis. Commander Gordon wishes to read the surface detail of that big plate down to rivet bumps. Please shut down all power to secondary systems and give them a ping from hell."
"Yes sir. Everyone is getting notice. I'm taking everything to minimum or off, including lighting. Rolling ship to bring the antennas to optimum position." He seemed to be enjoying it entirely too much. "Bringing the auxiliary reactor up and using the storage for the pea shooter too. That should be ready in another two minutes and we're good to go... Pulse away. Might you like another or should I return systems to normal sir?"
"That should be entirely sufficient, Jeremiah, thank you," Aristotle said.
"That's the most fun he's had in months," Thor said off mic.
"They are still a couple light minutes out," Brownie said.
"They could consider that an aggressive act," Thor worried. "An attack even."
"Then I miscalculated," Gordon said. He didn't sound especially remorseful.
"Do you have a fire plan if we do have to shoot something that big?" Thor asked.
"Yes. I do," Gordon said, but didn't elaborate for him.
"Well, your ping knocked their radar offline," Brownie said in a bit. "They have to notice that."
"Good, maybe that will make them back off a little," Gordon hoped.
"Data coming in from the Retribution's ping," Brownie said. "Damn that's a big sucker. He's near four times the volume of the Caterpillars' ship. I see all sorts of surface detail but no way to tell if any of it is weapons or what."
When the huge Caterpillar ship came to rest relative to them the hatch on the side toward them opened and the Sharp Claws was expelled with none of the careful gentle handling they'd seen the Caterpillars use before. The com came alive immediately with Captain Frost's voice.
"So good to see you! When we made our jump there was a tremendous big ship radiating right on our entry line. We piled on the side thrust to avoid running straight into them and the Caterpillars snatched us while we were still at a five G of acceleration. We didn't resist just as you suggested. We hoped they would take us back to you!"
"That big ship pursued them and is right behind you," Gordon informed them. "Take a position between us where Brownie is showing you on com. We're standing our ground with the armed ships forward and everybody at weapons stations."
"We're all suited up and in emergency mode too," Frost said. "The Caterpillars have been flashing the hold lights the last twelve minutes so we knew something was happening."
"The big plate is emitting radar again, but it's a simple single frequency system instead of the variable frequency that was cycling before," Brownie said. "They are changing course like they are coming around the Caterpillars."
"William and Retribution, you are free to radiate tactically for targeting. Move laterally if needed to keep a clear line of sight on the plate," Gordon ordered. "If they start shooting you are weapons free to use your Greasers. I'd like to reserve missiles at this time. Repeating... hold on any missile launches if we can," Gordon repeated.
"Data feed from the Retribution's radar on your screen," Brownie said. "Holy... Caterpillars moving to block the plate. They actually were on a collision course!"
"They're protecting us. Tell me any other explanation!" Lee said.
"Weapons away. Damn, damn, damn. Plate has fired on the Caterpillars," Brownie called out.
"You are free to fire Greasers," Gordon said calmly.
"Hit," Retribution reported, "Cycling. Will continue firing until ordered to desist," Aristotle made clear. "Radar shows debris. Whatever that big tower was sticking up amidships we blew it clean off."
"Hit," The Champion William added. "We don't know how they are laid out inside. I'm just walking fire up the middle and hope to hell we hit something vital."
"Defensive fire from the Caterpillars, lots of something small on radar. They will hit before the Greasers cycle," Aristotle said.
The Caterpillar ship was silhouetted with nuclear fire on the other side, and the ports went almost black to block the flash.
"They either hit the incoming or made them fail-fuse," Captain Fenton reported. "Second hit from Greaser. There's the Retribution's hit too. Four holes through them and they still just released a second salvo."
"Caterpillars replying," Brownie said.
The same scenario played out with the missiles inbound for the plate detonating at a distance. They couldn't tell if they were the defensive missiles exploding or if they made the offensive ones burst.
"Six Greasers shots absorbed," Fenton counted. "Any of our little ships would just be gone. They can absorb an unbelievable amount of damage."
"They're not shooting at our ships," Lee said, obviously mystified.
"You can't see a Greaser beam," Thor said. "They may not understand what's happening. The Caterpillars are obviously a threat they know. They may think the Caterpillars are doing it."
"Those warheads went off within range for an X-head!" Brownie said. "I think all they have is conventional nukes," he said, all excited.
Lee looked at Gordon and he was totally unsurprised.
The plate and the Caterpillars exchanged another flight of missiles and neither scored a hit.
"Retribution. William. One X-head from each of you. Set the steerable beams forward and take them from both ends. Set them off at an angle so one missile doesn't take the other out." Gordon ordered calmly. He didn't even raise his voice.
"Missile away," Aristotle called and Fenton echoed. Calm was infectious. They both sounded like Gordon. "Detonation in minus three minutes," Aristotle told them.
"Plate and Caterpillar just shot one missile each," Brownie reported.
"They're both running low on missiles," Gordon said. "We did right to end this before our guy ate one, but I was hoping to avoid showing them what we can do."
The Greasers cycled again, blasting two more holes through the plate with as little effect as before.
Both alien's single missiles and counter missiles flashed again accomplishing nothing.
The two X-head missiles turned in and aligned on the long axis of the plate far beyond the range the aliens had fired at each other. They detonated in a fireball much less impressive than the ones the aliens were throwing. However the main beam from each and five secondary beams transversed the plate from each end. What wasn't vaporized outright was blown to confetti around twelve simultaneous X-ray beams.
The ship was so huge actual chunks of it survived and were driven away on the expanding shock wave. Some of the pieces were even a couple meters long. The flash dwarfed the previous detonations and when the expanding ball of plasma cooled sufficiently to not radiate in the visible spectrum there wasn't a ship to be seen. There was only an expanding cloud of debris on radar.
"Perhaps one would have sufficed," Gordon said in a subdued voice.
"I did the same thing with the Biters," Captain Frost reminded him. "You want to throw everything at the threat in front of you, and it's hard to hold back. I'm not sure I could restrain myself from shooting two missiles at something that big," he admitted.
Gordon was still in shock despite the Captain Frost's attempt at comforting him. It was a horrible thing to destroy such a mighty ship in a heartbeat.
The surviving great ship released a smaller vessel. Something they'd never seen before. It was bigger than a shuttle but smaller than their fast courier the Road Runner. It eased away from all of them with uncharacteristic caution, given how fast the Caterpillars usually moved. It didn't pile on the acceleration until it was well away, and then quickly ramped up to near forty G on an obvious run to jump.
"They wanted to be sure we didn't think it was a missile," Thor said.
Gordon looked up sharply, but it was Lee who spoke.
"No, I wish that's all it was. They were moving slowly because they weren't sure we would let them send a report home about what happened here. Gordon tried to stop the plate without disclosing what our missiles can do, but it wasn't working. Their commander, whoever fights their ship, saw that. He wasn't sure we'd permit the knowledge to be sent to the other Caterpillars just what they are dealing with. I'm sure he's still in shock at the reversal, since he thought he was protecting us."
"It would be crazy to fire on their messenger after saving them," Thor objected.
"No, it might have been an ugly necessity if we had reason not to trust them," Gordon said. "If the survival of our races were in the balance I'd have fired on the Caterpillars too, if I had doubts. As I said, everything about them has said they are honorable beings. I hope I'm right. I bet everything for all of us on it. Not just the fleet. We Derf and the Humans, Hinth, Badgers, Bills, Sasquatch, Cats. Even the Biters, though they'd never thank us. All our civilizations hung in the balance with that courier departing. If the Caterpillars were anything like the Biters, but with those big fast ships, it might have been the only safe thing to do. We can outshoot them, but there is no way we could conduct a war against them. They would always be a step ahead of us simply by having faster communications, and they could simply never let us close enough to fire on them once they knew our range."
"You do realize you are calmly explaining why you didn't commit mass murder on the open channel to the Badgers and Bills?" Thor asked.
"They can see I didn't shoot," Gordon said. "That's the key point here. Not to pretend I'm something different and would never consider shooting. They'd be fools to think that. We are demonstrating moral qualities to them just like the Caterpillars did. But with the advantage of better translation.
"Lee gets it. That was an unintended test. You need a lot more experience, but your instincts are good. I do intend to train you for command," he promised.
Lee didn't thank him, which might have seemed arrogant, but she reached in her com holder and got the piece of paper Gordon had given her. She passed it back without looking at it. Gordon grinned big and dug her note out. He crumbled both in his true hand without looking at it, and fed them in the waste slot.
Thor just looked stricken and ground his teeth silently. He was pretty sure they said the same thing, but he'd never know, and they'd never tell him.
Chapter 13
"I want to be gone from this place," Gordon said. "Brownie, pick a target star. Form the fleet up again to do another slow comfortable burn to jump. Let's see if the Caterpillars warn us off again. I hope there aren't a whole bunch of stars the direction we want to go infected with those plates."
"What about the Caterpillars?" Thor asked.
Gordon lifted an eyebrow. "What about them?" he threw back.
"They were willing to ram that plate if that's what it took to stop it. It seems like we should try to talk to them about it," Thor said.
"We can't suddenly talk to them. I have no desire to hang around the scene of my crime trying to learn to hoot. It's not like we did when there is a planet and we have to stay there to talk to the natives. They're not suddenly talkative," Gordon pointed out, waving his hand at the special com gear. "They could be sending us pictures and trying to make sense of it if they wanted. I suspect they're rather rattled and not in a mood to say something stupid to the aliens who just unpleasantly surprised them. They've been keeping up with us just fine. If they still want to tag along they will. I don't seem to get a vote on it. You may feel all warm and fuzzy with them for trying to protect us but I'd be even more impressed if they knew what they were doing. I'm a bit peeved with them actually."
Thor looked at him distressed. It was obvious he didn't understand Gordon's attitude.
Gordon looked at Lee like he was going to have her comment on it. She had a carefully neutral expression that said she didn't want to. Perhaps that would insult Thor, Gordon decided. You can't turn everything into an impromptu lesson. Just because life did it he didn't always have to help it along.
"What would have happened if the Caterpillars had just stood back and watched when the Sharp Claws entered the other system?" Gordon asked.
"Well, that big plate was waiting along the entry line. I'm starting to think the Caterpillars and whoever these plate people are have much better remote sensing than we do. Or maybe small jump drones. What are the chances they'd be right on the entry vector?" Thor asked.
"Yes, Thor, probably. But what would Captain Frost have done?" Gordon insisted.
"He'd have kept that lateral burn up and avoided running into them. If the idiots shot at him he undoubtedly didn't have to be told to go in at battle stations with everybody suited up. He knew it was a high risk entry. I expect he'd have put an X-head into them as soon as they launched. He's got defensive systems. I didn't see them throwing anything we couldn't handle. I expect he'd have blown them to hell just like we did. Only question is if he's have restrained himself to one X-head after he felt he felt so strongly that he wasted a double launch on the Biters before."
"And after you just saw what two X-heads do to a plate what difference would that make?"
Thor looked a little sheepish. "There might have been a few bigger chunks of junk."
"Exactly. They really didn't need to snatch the Sharp Claws under hard acceleration. I suspect that's a risky maneuver all by itself. Their captain is probably running all the ways it could have gone bad through his mind now, and thanking any gods they have he didn't screw up. Not the least possibility being that Frost could have easily reduced the Caterpillars’ ship to an expanding cloud of scrap if he wasn't in the mood to be snatched. I'm glad we discussed the possibility ahead of time. Now that we've had this little demonstration, what do you want to bet they'll revert to asking very politely if they want us to enter their hangar again?"
Thor snorted. "No bet," he agreed. "They are probably like a fellow who rescued a snake off the road before it got squished, and then found out it is the deadly venomous sort."
"You're seeing it," Gordon nodded, satisfied.
"Caterpillars maneuvering," Brownie said, but didn't sound alarmed. "Very slow, just like the courier they sent out. I don't think they are on a run to jump."
The action terminated their discussion and everyone looked at their screens to see what the big ship was doing.
"They accelerated very briefly and are slowing down already," Brownie said mystified. "And there are some small craft now, maybe the little tug things."
"They'd chasing down some of the pieces of the plate," Lee said.
"They must not know much about the other aliens or their ships, or they wouldn't bother. I doubt they have ever captured one or they'd know more already that this will tell them," Brownie said.
"Why don't we delay enough to do a little junk collecting too?" Lee asked.
"Do you think there is enough left to learn anything?" Gordon asked.
"You never know. There might be pieces of circuit board or electronic components. If they build anything like us, pieces of something pretty solid like a reactor wall or drive chamber might be identifiable. Just seeing what alloys they use could be worthwhile," Brownie suggested.
"If we can't figure them out we can put it on a blanket and trade it to the Caterpillars," Lee said.
Gordon looked amused at that. "Alright, Brownie, previous orders rescinded. Divide up the sectors radiating from the site, staying well away from where the Caterpillars are working and have the ships with shuttles match velocity with the receding junk. Ask for volunteers to recover specimens in suits. Tell them there will be bonuses and souvenirs for the workers. Especially if they find something we can learn from or swap to the Caterpillars."
"Aye, organizing it now," Brownie agreed.
* * *
This piece of junk was dark. Ming Lee's radar showed it about fifty meters away and it was clearly rotating. Every time he saw it rotate on radar he saw a glint of starlight off it too. The star wasn't that bright. Maybe about like the sun from a bit out past Mars. He wasn't about to grab onto the junk by hand and get yanked all over. It looked ragged so it might have sharp edges or other hazards.
The line he trailed went in the back of a simple tube mechanism. It was meant to recover dead or disabled people in suits, but it worked fine for junk too. A fine net was folded into wad at the bottom of a slight cone, on top of a double spring. It had a counter weight and friction brake enclosed in the rear of the tube. The cords on the edge of the round net were covered with barbed fabric and after an uncoated band the rear of the net had loops.
When Ming Lee was about ten meters away he didn't think he could miss, and pulled the trigger. The tube barely moved in his hands, the counterbalancing system almost canceling the reaction out. The fine net didn't weigh much more than a hundred grams anyway. It spread very cleanly into a disk and then the center pulled ahead slightly; it looked very much like a jellyfish pumping water.
The center touched the junk like the top of a bell and snagged on it. If it hadn't been rotating it would wrapped smoothly around the target and enclosed it like a sack. It still enclosed it, but lop-sided with most of the net bunched up on one side. When it was rolled up in a ball it started winding the line around itself until it took up what little slack it had. By then Ming had let go of the launcher tube and the ball of netting climbed up the line like a yo-yo returning up a string. When it hit the tube it threw it off enough it stopped winding line around itself, but it had already converted its angular momentum to motion toward the shuttle.
Allen from engineering was waiting at the open shuttle hold with a net on a pole and a hooked gaff. He chose the gaff and hooked the net with some delicacy. He let the residual rotation pull him but not enough to lose the firm footing he had on the deck of the hold. He avoided ripping the net so they could save it and repack it.
"Wow, this is pretty much in one piece," Allen said of the basketball-sized piece. "It's smacked out of round but I think it started as a sphere, maybe a pressure vessel for maneuvering thrusters or something. It has a flange and stuff still attached, trailing wires."
By then Ming had returned close enough to get another net-gun. Allen tossed it to him with the effortless grace of someone used to no gravity. It sailed across with no rotation at all and just cancelled some of Ming Lee's motion toward the shuttle.
"There's another decent piece I saw beyond this one. Mr. Wong, can you nudge the shuttle along behind me, please?" Ming asked on com. "I'm afraid I may run out of line on that one. It was receding a little still when I grabbed this one."
"Sure right behind you. Lead off," Wong invited.
Ming Lee turned around and oriented himself to the star. He gave a little nudge on the thrusters. He had to get about a hundred meters out before he saw it on his suit radar, off center from where he was aimed but he corrected and changed the angle closing on it. He didn't bother to look back for the shuttle. Wong was a slick pilot. If he'd asked, Wong could scoop a piece up by sliding the shuttle over it so it went in the hatch. They hadn't found anything big enough to require that, but the man was that good.
This was the same piece he'd seen, long and skinny. It was barely turning by some random miracle. It was bent in the middle and tapered. If it wasn't massive he could catch it by hand and save the net packing. It showed smooth with even joints visible, and the smaller end was mushroomed out like a big handle. He eased up on it, timed the turn-over and gave a little thrust with his jets to give himself some opposite motion. If it was solid metal or something he'd have to let loose of it before it dragged him around. He'd done that before and wasn't scared of it.
The narrow part near the end went in his glove true, and he could reach around it enough to get a grip. It pulled him over but not hard, and it pivoted across his chest and just that slick he had it. He looked at the small end and it was a pad like a lander strut but of course much smaller. It wasn't broken, the bend in the middle was a deliberate joint. When he turned the big end towards his suit lights it was all ragged inside with fibrous strands.
Ming got an uneasy feeling and went back to the other end. The pad on the end was ribbed with a tread. It was a boot, wider than a human foot but definitely a boot, and the shape suddenly resolved as a leg. He swallowed hard against a sudden sick feeling. You don't want to throw up in a spacesuit.
"Ming Lee, are you OK?" Wong asked. "You gasped and made a funny noise. Lee?" he said again.
"I'm not exactly OK," Ming admitted. "I had a shock. I think this thing is a frigging leg," I mean, not just a loose leg, but in a... uh, probably a suit leg. It's pretty disgusting."
"Do you need recovered," Wong asked.
"No, no... I'm coming back in. It just rattled me. I think you better ask Fenton or Gordon what they want to do with this. I never thought about finding something perishable."
* * *
"There isn't anything that looks exotic," Alex Hillerman reported. "We've taken samples of all the materials, and have a bunch of little chips and shards of who knows what. It seems impossible to price things for a fair exchange, and I find it gruesome and ugly to consider selling remains. My suggestion is we pack all this up and take it over to the Caterpillars and let them have it. I'm not sure it will be of any value to them, but since they were collecting they have some interest. I think it would be a nice gesture."
"You're the one who mentioned selling it to them. You have any objection to doing as Alex suggested?" Gordon asked Lee.
"No, I thought maybe we'd find something super advanced," Lee admitted. "Maybe this will get the Caterpillars talking to us again. I worried they're scared of us now."
"Fine, Brownie, have whoever has a shuttle free and serviced consolidate this trash and take it over to the Caterpillars. We'll see if they aren't afraid to have us inboard again.
"Send Jon Burris again," Lee suggested. "They know him and he's good at it. Since you won't let me go," she added. Gordon ignored that.
* * *
"They didn't even hesitate," Burt Wong said, pleased as the hatch rolled open again on the great ship. "Of course they may keep us for hostages this time," he added.
"Mr. Wong, your humor may not be a morale builder," Captain Fenton said while the hatch was still open to their com.
"You are correct sir, and I apologize for making it so dark."
"Goodbye, or hopefully until we meet again, Mr. Wo..." The hatch sealed and cut his words off.
Mr. Wong was in command but he had a pilot who eased it down to the deck and let the slight field bring it into contact. It was barely perceivable.
"Your show now Mr. Burris. Are you going to offer them more coffee?" Wong asked.
"As a matter of fact I brought two bags. Just in case they ask for it insistently. I think we'd face a mutiny if I tried to strip it all out of the fleet for them."
"I would object most strenuously to doing that. We have a synthesizer for flavors and extracts, but I've tasted the product it alleges is 'coffee'; even dried instant is better."
"The pressure is coming up pretty fast," the pilot called back to them.
"Well, I might as well get down to the lock," Jon said. He had to suit up because it had been decreed nobody would expose themselves to the alien artifacts. They had been held in isolation outside the environmental areas of the ships once biological remains were found. The material samples would be sterilized en mass to make them easier to work with.
What the Caterpillars would do with their gift was their concern, but from one leg they couldn't tell much about the crew of the aggressive plate builders. Even the common opinion they were bipods was uncertain. They had photographs and a small sample of tissue carefully sealed and kept frozen, but nobody felt up to removing it from what they were pretty sure was a space suit leg. Let the Caterpillars have the joy of it, their medical people said.
When the pressure neared the level at which the Caterpillars had entered the hold or hanger before Jon went out with two crewmen helping haul the assorted junk in two small pull carts. At the slight gravity the Caterpillars favored they found pushing them by the single handle gave them better traction than pulling them. Jon carried the leg separately in an thick insulated box. It was sealed in a thick plastic bag like the galley used for big slabs of meat, which it was sort of...
Six Caterpillars came out today, when the men reached halfway to the bulkhead and stopped. They had a couple of the floater carts with them, anticipating that what the Humans were bringing was for them.
Jon laid the box on the deck in front of the first Caterpillar to approach him. He was embarrassed he still didn't know if it was the same Caterpillar he'd dealt with before. He removed the lid and placed his hand briefly against the bag inside, hoping the fellow would do the same.
The Caterpillar took the hint and laid a longer tentacle on the plastic, but recoiled at the cold as if he'd been burned. A single hoot had another Caterpillar come put the lid in place and carry it to a waiting cart. They headed off out of the hold right away.
The critical transfer over, his helpers started laying the contents of the carts on the deck. The Caterpillars could do what they wanted with it. Gordon said to let them dispose of any they didn't want, so they weren't going to wait and haul any rejected pieces back with them.
The Caterpillars seemed a little less shy to Jon. They were lined up looking over the junk as it was laid out. A few of them were checking this or that out with some sort of hand scanner. The lighter pieces on top were all on the deck and then a crewman lifted the deformed sphere from the cart and placed it on the deck.
Caterpillars tended to be vocal. When Jon wasn't suited up their hooting hurt his ears a few times. So it was an anomaly when the Caterpillar scanning the sphere made a delicate little hoot that Jon barely heard. What was really weird was they all froze in position like a stop frame of video.
The fellow was holding the scanning instrument frozen like the rest of them, but then he repeated the quiet hoot three times. To Jon's ear they seemed all the same, but the others were jarred into a frenzy of motion. Everybody along the junk stepped back like it had turned into a pile of snakes. The two behind the Caterpillar attending Jon turned and ran straight into each other, the one bouncing off head to head and the other apparently knocking himself senseless.
Panic turned into rout and they all scrambled for the exit. The unconscious one in tow. The floaters were abandoned as well as a few odd personal items scattered on the deck. Only his personal Caterpillar remained and went over and picked the scanner up where the other caterpillar had dropped it and confirmed his reading.
"We have radio traffic and the pressure is dropping," Jon was informed by the pilot on com.
"I suggest you recall my helpers," Jon said. "Something weird is happening here."
"Agreed," Wong said. The two started back although the order wasn't on the general com channel.
"We see them freaking out over the ball. Any idea why?" Wong asked.
"No clue, and my personal liaison is sticking it out even if the pressure is dropping. I wonder how low the pressure can go before he keels over?" Jon wondered.
"Well that's new!" Wong said.
Jon looked up at Wong's exclamation, and there was a Caterpillar entering the hold in a space suit. That was interesting. Jon had wondered how they'd accommodate all those legs underneath. In a suit they looked more like a Caterpillar than ever, because the legs were gathered in batches. There were flexible cones to hold groups of legs acting together spaced along the edges, even more like an Earth caterpillar.
The new fellow had a floater with quite a bit of equipment and another space suit. Jon's personal Caterpillar wasted no time getting in it, taking much less time than a Human suiting up. The front was like a massive helmet with a large clear faceplate and two flexible tapered tubes for his principal tentacles. However there were also four larger mechanical tentacles of segmented polished metal.
He flowed into the suit – walked into it really – from the rear, and it sealed itself from the helmet back. There was a shiny small block like a zipper pull that traveled the length of the seam closing it and sealing it. The motion had that constant speed to it that said it was powered.
One of the tugs they had seen push ships around came from somewhere behind Jon and hovered by the sphere. It wasn't that much different than the floater carts, just bigger.
"Did you see where that came from?" Jon asked. "They must have some kind of storage for them in here."
"Nope, we were all looking at what you are doing and don't have any cameras active to the other side. I guess we should have," Wong admitted. "Don't get all distracted and forget to close your faceplate," Wong reminded him.
"Oh, yeah." Jon reached up and latched it, tested it and double checked his suit settings. His ears popped and he had to swallow, because the pressure was already under the suit's settings.
"The gravity is easing off too," their pilot warned. Be aware you may push off the deck easily."
"I wonder why?" Jon asked.
The Caterpillar did the oddest thing. He took a canister and sprayed a ring of yellowish foam right on the top of the tug drone. He waited maybe thirty seconds and filled the center with a swirling motion, but lower. The two Caterpillars then went over to the sphere, the drone tagging along like a dog at heel.
One alien tested the foam with a mechanical tentacle and was apparently satisfied it wasn't tacky. The other Caterpillar squirted a small blob of foam on the sphere and they lifted it between them. They treated it like a soap bubble, moving with exaggerated care to place it with the fresh foam blob down on the nest of foam.
"The pressure is dropping faster now," Jon was told on com. "There was quite a bit of audio – hooting – on the radio spectrum when they were moving the ball," Wong said.
The caterpillar with the canister sprayed foam around the ball working in a circle until the nest was transformed into a complete covering with ridges like an old fashioned bee hive. When the foam stopped he shook the canister and got one last blob from it before discarding it to the deck.
When the hanger door started to slide open Wong was pretty sure what was next and warned the fleet outside. "I believe they are sending one of those tugs out pretty quickly," Wong said on the open channel. I suggest you back off and stay well away from its flight path."
"Roger that," Gordon said. "They aren't pushing you out?"
"No, they seem very leery of the deformed ball we brought them. Scared shitless is closer to it."
"Oh, I guess we should have X-rayed it," Gordon said abashed.
"No, no I really don't think so," Jon said heartfelt.
"It's starting to move. They are treating it like a big egg they don't want to crack," Wong said.
The drone moved so painfully slow it was moving at a walking pace when it cleared the hatch. It wasn't until it was half a kilometer off that the Caterpillars hooted again on the radio.
"It's picking up acceleration just a little, but still nothing rough," Brownie reported from the High Hopes after a few more minutes.
When the drone was about twenty kilometers away it disappeared in an eye searing explosion.
"That's sort of what I expected from the way they treated it," Jon said.
"Why were you so adamant about not x-raying it?" Gordon asked now that it was over.
"Sensing X-rays is one of the ways you fail-fuse a warhead to detonate early when it is going to be destroyed," Jon explained.
"Oh... "
The two suited Caterpillars just turned and headed for their access hatch with no further communication. The big hatch to the outside was left hanging open. They didn't bother for now with the other offerings or the trash on the deck.
"I believe we're done for the day. I'm coming back to the shuttle," Jon said. "I believe we are invited to see ourselves to the door."
"And don't let it hit you on the ass on the way out," their pilot said.
"Indeed, I can't blame them if they are a little irritated with us," Wong admitted.
"Yeah, we looked pretty stupid on this one. I shudder to think how we banged that around, compared to how they handled it. But good job staying out of their way guys, Gordon commended them. "I believe we are done here. When the shuttle is back to the Retribution we'll form up and leave this system."
Chapter 14
"Amazing, the Caterpillars are still coming along after we tried to blow them up," Lee said.
"They know we aren't malicious," Thor said, "just stupid."
"You sound like you'd prefer malicious," Lee said, looking at him oddly.
"Over stupid? Yeah. This will go down in the history books as a significant event in our meeting the Caterpillars. Looking back on it from the future with all the advantages of hindsight they will regard us as a bunch of fortunate fools. But there's no help for that now," Thor lamented.
"It would have been really, really bad, irreparable if we had blown them up," Gordon said. "Don't forget that small courier they sent off. When the big ship didn't come home they'd have investigated. Even if they came and looked at the physical evidence it might have looked bad for us."
"You notice they aren't darting ahead to enter the system before us this time?" Brownie asked.
"Ha! They aren't worried about protecting us from the big nasty plate people now," Lee said.
"If they are long standing enemies with the plate makers they might try to steer us to them now," Gordon speculated. After all, we sure put paid to this one for them."
* * *
"Clear sky," Brownie said two shifts later. The next system towards home was quiet. Quiet seemed good at the moment.
"Ping it, thirty minutes and I want to be walking to my bunk," Gordon said.
"We see a couple gas giants, nothing out of the ordinary at a glance. Two inner planets without water and no telling what is behind the star," Brownie said.
"Tell the alternate shift to start a slow lateral burn to unveil what's on the far side of the star." Gordon said. "By the time we come back on we'll know what we want to do. Likely just move on."
When it was clear nothing within fifteen light minutes looked hostile, or even odd, Gordon called an end to their shift. They were near two hours over and he told the alternate shift to run an hour over to spread the load and give them a little extra break. For the first time when he dropped on his bunk pad he thought it would be nice to be back home and stop one jump after another for awhile. Then he smiled at himself, remembering their previous visits. Maybe for a week or two. That was about all the idyllic country life and family politics he could realistically stomach.
* * *
Vigilant Botrel lingered to report to Gordon as his crew quit the bridge. "We've seen enough radar return to identify a fairly substantial band of asteroids between the inner planets and the gas giants. We found another gas giant with some decent rings on the far side of the star when we moved off our entry line far enough to see it. The big interest there is there is an unnatural radar return in the band. We saw it about an hour ago. Everything about it is consistent with the radar reflectors we saw on the trip out. Since we were so close to shift change and you coming back on the bridge I didn't see any rush to send the Sharp Claws. If it had been a six or seven hour delay on getting somebody there I'd probably have sent them off."
"How interesting. It makes me wonder how these sites will map out when we have explored a big enough area," Gordon said, furrowing his furry brow. "Did they expand here and then retreat? And the big question is: Are they still around?"
"Maybe they're the plate makers," Lee speculated.
"I'd believe that if we'd found another jar lid like at the one mining site," Gordon agreed. "Even a very similar one. But it's kind of frustrating trying to reconstruct an entire civilization from a jar lid."
"Well, my mistress Lee did figure out they have large boney hands," Ha-bob-bob-brie pointed out. "The Caterpillars tend to confirm that too."
"In what way do they confirm it," Thor asked. He seemed to be skeptical easily.
"They did not have screw lids on their water bottles. They have a recessed lock band that lets it be pulled straight off. I'd expand on that," the Hinth said, getting into it. "To do a twisting motion they must have something similar to a wrist, or it would still be terribly inconvenient for a joint with less range of motion, like say a crab or lobster has. I'm going to teeter on the precipice, and say they are bilateral or I don't think their brains would be comfortable with the idea of right and left hand motions inherent in screw threads."
"Humans would say – 'Go out on a limb'," Lee supplied.
"How would you build a civilization without screw threads?" Thor asked. "I can't imagine it."
"I b... I predict the Caterpillars either don't have screw threads or if they do it is a very late development for them and much underutilized," Ha-bob-bob-brie said. "If you get to a certain point and don't use them you've found other solutions and the infrastructure to make them would never be cheap and common. With us and Humans, bolts are among the cheapest things made."
Thor tilted his head back examining the overhead. "That makes sense," he finally admitted.
Lee wondered if Thor didn't like Ha-bob-bob-brie, or if she was reading too much into what was just his personality. She worried just a little Thor was prejudiced. When she and Gordon had first met Ha-bob-bob-brie she remembered he'd assume the Hinth would dislike all Derf. But she didn't get the feeling that Ha-bob-bob-brie had it out for Thor. He simply didn't feel any need to agree with him. But that shouldn't be a problem... in an ideal world.
"Go," Gordon told Vigilant, shooing him off the bridge. "We can chatter on the whole shift long like this. You deserve your supper and bunk. I will send the Sharp Claws to inspect the return and see if it the same sort of mining marker. Thank you."
Botrel made a mock salute, one that would have earned him days in the stockade if they really followed anything resembling military discipline, and walked off wearily.
"Brownie, tell the Sharp Claws to see what is bouncing our signal back. Not an emergency run but a full G acceleration.. If it's the same sort of crude reflector snip a chunk off to see if it can be dated and compared to the others."
"Aye," Brownie acknowledged, fingers on the com relaying Gordon's command.
"Is the radar anomaly line of sight with the far gas giant?" Gordon asked.
"Yes, it would be," Brownie said. "Chart to your screen."
"We shall continue on a lateral acceleration for a time, then reverse and head for the gas giant on the other end of the system. Reduce acceleration to stretch the transit and fueling stop out until the Sharp Claws can finish their investigation and rejoin us. No reason to hurry there to fuel and then hang around waiting in zero G making it harder on everybody to work and eat. By the time everybody is refueled the Sharp Claws will catch up and can top off its fuel last before we move on."
"The fuel drones are compatible from ship to ship. If we are topped off and they have not rejoined us we can scoop fuel and have them waiting to dock on the Sharp Claws and unload," Thor suggested.
"That works," Gordon agreed.
"Is that why they process onboard?" Lee asked.
"No, Lee," Jon Burris spoke up for a change. "They'd have to make far more trips hauling material we'd mostly discard, and we'd have to have a bunch of volume in the hull devoted to a processing plant. It would kill the idea and make it impractical if they couldn't concentrate it in the scoop drone."
"Setting our movement up," Brownie said. "Dart asks if they may have leave to make a faster passage past the inner planets and join us in time to refuel?"
"Sure, they've had less experience than us at looking down on dead rocky planets, if they still have a sense of adventure for that let them knock themselves out," Gordon allowed.
"I wish I could have brought Speaker's little girl, Tish, along," Lee said. "She'd be thrilled to see even airless rocks, but they had a fit just because I gave her a necklace inappropriate to her age."
"How old is she?" Ha-bob-bob-brie asked, interested.
"She told me she was nine when I was there. How old is that in T-years, Brownie?" Lee asked. She was too lazy to go data diving and knew Brownie would have time units at his fingertips.
"The world Far Away on which she lives has a four hundred eleven day year. But they count ages in their home world years, which are about three hundred ninety T- days. So she is probably ten or close to eleven, even. If you want to know how mature that makes a young Badger you'll have to search yourself. Somebody probably asked about it. That was far outside my concerns of time counting and navigation."
"Even if she were an Earth human, that doesn't mean she'd be like you at ten," Gordon reminded her. "We had to make you safe around all sorts of machinery and systems that were not designed to be childproof. Indeed just about any adult grounder could get in trouble around them without supervision."
"Dart has pulled away and the Caterpillars have decided to follow them and see what they are up to," Brownie said.
"You are anthropomorphizing them when you start assigning motives," Lee said.
"He is not," Thor said, indignantly. "He is derfopomorphizing," he coined, tickled with himself.
"English has survived everything else," Burris said on com. "Like hamburgers and country music, it will survive the Derf too."
"Is that an ugly comment on my rendition of 'I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry'?" Thor asked.
"Rendition is far too kind a word," Burris said.
Thor just sniffed, dramatically.
* * *
The shifts changed and repeated, Gordon's crew was back on the bridge. They dog-legged around the star and were braking for the gas giant. Gordon had declared a recreation day when they arrived. The Bills didn't quite know what to make of that, but the Badgers had all sorts of holidays and took to the concept easily.
"Sending report from Sharp Claws to your screen," Brownie said to Gordon.
"Let the bridge see it," Gordon said, sight unseen.
Captain Frost looked out of the screen at them. His cinnamon coat looked like he had just brushed it and he had his usual serious demeanor.
"We found the reflector, and it is much like the others we saw. It's an improvised corner reflector and cut a bit differently, but welded of titanium. There is a mooring post near it also similar to the one we found on the outbound trip, but what is completely different is they left a junk yard here. It's on a rock big enough to keep it gravitationally even if it got a pretty good bump from another asteroid.
"We have busted mining equipment, empty containers for something liquid, and the general rubbish of things not worth recycling such as broken bolts and scratched lenses. There are some containers I suspect held food and some thin blade-like fins that appear to have electrical contacts on the end. I'd like you to examine the images of this piece and see if it isn't very similar to what Lee Wong found."
The image was of a hard domed shape with a short collar sticking up off center. One side was crushed in and fractured. When he turned it over it had a design like a tire tread.
"Is that a boot, like was on the leg Wong found?" Lee asked, and Gordon paused the playback.
"It looks very similar," Gordon agreed. "Send the file to The Champion William and see what he thinks. Make it available fleet wide and see if anybody disagrees. And let's let Frost finish up."
"We have a chip cut from the reflector to test, and also we are preserving a few pieces of the top layer of junk. Besides the micro meteor impacts there was a fine layer of dust we preserved a couple different ways. All the important pieces we're keeping in vacuum. A few of the artifacts at one end of the pile seem to be undamaged. Either they simply no longer wanted them or they had to make room on the ship for whatever they were taking back. The deposit they were working here seems to have been for tantalum, and as usual there is niobium associated with it. The deposit seems to be far from worked out. We checked the surface several places and the whole rock seems pretty rich. So why it was abandoned is a mystery again.
"We intend to photograph every piece and object, but limit what we retrieve. We won't be leaving before a return message could reach us. This may even take two or three days. So if you wish us to do anything differently we'll still be on site to receive your instructions. It would be easy to find again assuming the reflector is not bothered by anyone. If you wish a claims satellite left behind then let us know that too, as I wasn't going to bother. We'll report if we find anything else significant," he promised. "Frost out here," he said, cutting the transmission.
"Well, I never thought of that impact scenario," Gordon admitted. "There could have been artifacts on the mined asteroid we visited. One good collision with a decent sized rock and they'd have been knocked off above escape velocity. I just thought they were obsessively neat or paranoid about leaving clues to their nature."
"The boot looks similar, but I'd say it is a different model," The attachment for the leg is a little different shape and the tread is quite different. Even if it is a boot for the same alien race, which I'd tend to believe, we still have no idea if the two were made by different manufacturers the same week or a thousand years apart."
"But it does look like the miners are the plate makers," Lee insisted.
"Call it ninety-nine hundredths probable," Thor agreed. "I mean you can argue some wildly unlikely event. Say the plate makers visited the site just like we are, and some clumsy oaf did something stupid out there and crushed the side of his boot. It's just not likely."
"Yes, mining has to be much more dangerous than pawing through ancient junk," Lee agreed.
"I don't anticipate having the Sharp Claws’ crew do anything differently," Gordon said. "But since they'll be there awhile, I'm going to wait our shift and the alternate before telling them that. If they have any more news or somebody thinks of something that will still be plenty of time to tell them."
"We'll have more time around the gas giant fueling too," Thor pointed out. "Might as well have two recreation days and split them up to make it easier and give critical crew a break too."
"Why not?" Gordon asked. "The Bills can polish their corridor walls or whatever makes them feel virtuous while we relax."
* * *
While the fleet relaxed and refueled the bridge crew was reduced to one experienced bridge crew member and a volunteer to share the watch. Choi Eun-Sook and Ernie Goddard were standing the watch and discussing Ernie's interest in astrophysics and stellar formation. He was an engineer but had an avid amateur interest. They usually worked opposite shifts, but both had recreation days and were off schedule a bit. For Ernie it was late, but for Choi early. They'd never said much to each other before.
Since no real Astrophysicist had found the terms to join the Little Fleet acceptable, Ernie was the best they had. They had seen enough strange new things that he was writing papers for their return. The data was proprietary, much of it collected on his own time and not duplicated in the ship logs.
There were no grants or government money laying claim to his observations, so the professional journals would have to either ignore his remarkable papers in a snit of professional protectionism, or outright steal the data from them. Like the rest of the crews he stood to be wealthy upon returning, so pirating his observations might have lengthy and expensive legal consequences.
When the Dart finished its inspection of the two inner planets it came around the star in the rough plane of its planets, but from the other side. When they had a line of sight on the gas giant sufficient to avoid interference from the star they transmitted their findings.
Like most amateurs, Ernie had no reason to hold himself to a narrow field of stellar formation. He wasn't competing in his field of work, or fighting for tenure, or scrambling for grant money. He was just honestly fascinated by everything remotely connected to the heavenly bodies, like a bright schoolchild.
In his case reviewing the data was recreation. When the planetary information came in he started reviewing it immediately and exclaiming over interesting parts to Choi. Her interest level was higher than normal because she couldn't read or watch anything distracting while on watch; she had the command audio circuit open and watched for other traffic on her screen, but she could listen to Ernie. She's have listened even if he was obsessed with some other hobby, but it helped that what he was keen on was related to her job.
"The inner planet is pretty much an airless rock. No magnetic field and a pretty flat surface characterized by overlapping impact craters. It's a bit on the low side for density compared to similar sized planets this distance from their star. I wouldn't give you five bucks Ceres for it, and nobody asked to name it.
"The second planet is fairly far out. You make a chart of systems having a planet like the first one and the second is almost always closer than this. I only see two other similar systems surveyed. You could even make a case there should be a third planet there for it to be 'normal'. It has a bit of argon and such, but not enough you'd notice the difference between what passes for atmosphere and vacuum if you tried to breathe it. It's cratered pretty good too because that thin atmosphere hasn't stopped many of the meteors or eroded the craters away.
"The interesting feature is this huge area, like a lunar mare, that covers half a hemisphere and is almost centered on the equator. It's elliptical, and the rotation of the planet is unusually slow. Also the tilt is extreme. The Badgers don't have any official planetary experts either, but the guy doing the mapping is cautious. He just said that 'some extraordinary event' might have been responsible for the unusual numbers.
"Bah! It got whacked by a freaking big rock at an angle and retrograde to the rotation. Big enough not only to slow it down but to lean it over on its axis too."
"Have you suggested that to them?" Choi asked.
"Well sure, but they won't get the text until I am off shift in bed. I nailed down my opinion of the site formation, since they seemed too shy to advance a theory. It's good for another paper that will irritate the glorious ones. I look forward to hearing all the reasons why it wasn't that, but they don't know what caused it. Just not anything an unwashed engineer hypothesized. The Badgers also noted significant gravitational anomalies framed around the different area. When we get their high resolution images I have some things I want to look for on them."
"What?" Choi was interested enough to ask.
"Well, if the surface was stabilized by the time this hit, then outside the 'splash' zone where everything was liquefied and then a ring around that covered with debris. Well, debris would have been thrown all over the world, but I mean debris that buries everything deep. I'd expect to find concentric fissures and cracks from the crust flexing outside that. Also the quake from it would have been so severe that quite massive surface features would have come loose. I can picture large monolithic rocks gouging a furrow across the landscape. To the point their trail and resting place are still visible. So pretty much most of the way around the planet, but maybe not exactly opposite. Exactly opposite might have had some very different motions I'm still trying to figure out."
"I wonder... " Choi said, but then said nothing more.
"I'm no mind reader," Ernie said. "Wonder what?"
"We're looking for reasons the miners left this system. If they had any operations on this planet I wondered if they might not have been driven off."
"I can look for any artificial structures when I scan the surface images," Ernie volunteered. "It's easy enough to program the survey software to look for geometric shapes like intelligences use. I'll do that. You always get false hits but few enough to reject once a person puts eyeballs on them. The area that was struck and melted is much flatter and a more even color than the rest of the planet. If they built anything there it will be even easier to see than the rest of the planet."
"You don't see my point," Choi said. "I shouldn't have said anything."
"No, please. If I don't see it the fault is mine. Please explain," Ernie said.
"I meant, if they had a presence it would be under the mare-like feature now. Because the rock would have targeted them, not just a random natural collision."
Ernie looked at her goggle eyed and then recovered. "If this was very recent we'd still see a halo of debris that splashed so hard some of it went into orbit, or even escaped. On Earth they have found fragments they are pretty sure got knocked off of Mars ages ago."
"But Mars doesn't still have a halo of debris from that does it?" Choi asked.
"No, but it's had time to disperse and decay. A lot of it will have fallen back to Mars and others got tugged back and forth by Jupiter and other bodies. Some undoubtedly fell into the Sun," Ernie said. "Most decayed pretty fast, but it took a long time to sweep up all of it. There are probably still odd bits and pieces of it in Solar orbit."
Choi shrugged at the time problem. "We have no idea how old the miner sites are. Ten thousand years? A hundred thousand years?"
"Yeah," Ernie had to agree, looking disturbed. "There's that."
* * *
"When the Sharp Claws returns do you want to show the Caterpillars the boot?" Lee asked.
"I'm not sure," Gordon admitted. "It would be embarrassing if we went to their hatch and it didn't open. I'd hate to be told we aren't welcome anymore. Perhaps... give them a little time."
"Time to do what?" Lee asked. Her face said she really didn't get it.
Gordon looked perplexed to explain, but she looked expectant. It wasn't a rhetorical question.
"If I may," Jon Burris offered. "I know you grew up in a small closed family group. That may have altered your perceptions on some social things. If you offend someone, it can be wisdom to allow them some time to cool off. The uh, intense emotion can be rekindled by seeing you too soon, but time will let them get over it, so when you next see them they aren't as upset. It may allow room for a reconciliation. I imagine it is the same with Derf?" he looked at Gordon for affirmation.
"Exactly, and well said," Gordon agreed. He looked at Lee. Jon had given him time to think about a reply for a bit. "When your whole world is three people you look at them differently than a bigger group. You have to get along or it makes life unbearable. Now, even at home, a Derf holding has enough people you can afford to dislike someone. You can avoid them. If you happen to work with them you can refuse to work with them anymore and I've seen the Mothers accommodate that by giving a person new duties.
“It's risky. I've seen them transfer a skilled metal worker to a menial job, and I've seen people leave the Keep and go to town over refusing to work with someone. I even saw the old First Mother you met solve the problem of a nasty boss in the sewing and weaving group who was making everybody mad by demoting him and promoting everybody in the group over him so he had no authority over them at all. But there are ways out. When you get to a really big society people can place no value at all on another person and get away with it."
"You owe any stranger some courtesy, or society would be chaos," Lee objected.
"A stranger yes," Gordon agreed. "But how fast can you get to know someone and dislike them intensely?"
Lee looked uncertain, so he asked her: "How long did it take you to know how you felt about the man on Earth who tried to mug you for your necklace? And how would you feel to meet him now?"
Lee's face took on an unseemly hard look for a young girl. "Perhaps a second, and if I meet him again he'll be a target," she said, drawing her hand up her leg for a holster she didn't wear on the bridge.
"Ah, point made I can tell," Gordon said, satisfied.
"Very well, I can see giving the Caterpillars time to settle down over the scare we gave them. It's sort of like grieving, isn't it?" Lee said with sudden insight.
"Very much so," Gordon agreed.
Chapter 15
"Congratulations for your credit on the paper," Vigilant Botrel said, as he sat to breakfast.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," Choi Eun-Sook told him.
Vigilant raised an eyebrow. "In the ship's public net. Ernie lists all his papers for any unusual stars or planets we visit, and of course his theories about their formation or other aspects. It's fascinating really. He has a talent for describing things without all the dense jargon most papers use."
Choi still looked at him blankly. Omelet poised on her fork uncertainly while she tried to think.
"He named you as co-author on the latest," Vigilant clarified.
"He did? About what?" Choi demanded.
"I believe the title was, 'A major planet-altering asteroid impact. Rotation and inclination changes from a retrograde strike'. See what I mean? You can actually tell what the paper is about without a thesaurus or a brain transplant. It's just one of maybe twenty or so. He listed Jon Burris as co-author on the one he did about the spatial distribution of brown dwarves," Vigilant said. He seemed quite serious and not joking.
"Oh, we talked about that on orbital watch," she admitted, wondering if he'd reprove her for inattention on duty.
"That must be it," he agreed. "He found your hypothesis that it might have been a military action instead of a natural occurrence insightful. Given we have activity in the system that was inexplicably curtailed, there certainly may have been a conflict. He is very eager to know what dating of the mining artifacts shows, to know if the events could have occurred in the same time frame."
"Uh, yeah." She didn't have near enough coffee in her to be following this.
Vigilant smiled and gave attention to his own breakfast.
Don't you have to give permission for your name to be on a publication? Choi wondered. Was she going to look like an idiot if the miners gave up on the deposit a few hundred years ago? Wait, they said the reflectors had a lot of micro-meteor erosion didn't they? At least on the ones they found outbound. That had to take awhile. Maybe she wouldn't look too bad. Even if she did, who would care for a ship’s officer? She wasn't a scientist for God's sake.
"I guess I better read the thing if it has my name plastered on it," she told Vigilant.
"Well sure," he said, looking surprised. "Take a look at the earlier ones too."
* * *
"Thank you for the credit on the paper," Choi said after she found Ernie in what they called the lounge. She'd decided being a co-author was acceptable after three different people had complimented her on it. The lounge was the small hold closest to the galley, formerly the food stage area, and was crowded with more than four people or two Derf, with two com consoles and a bigger screen than there was room to have in their bunk spaces. The cabins had been downsized to fit extra crew in a Deep Space Explorer to the point where staying in your bunk when not sleeping was oppressive. Ernie was using the big screen.
"You're welcome. I'm afraid I didn't try to quote you, because I didn't trust my memory, and didn't record. I paraphrased what you said. If I got it wrong please tell me," Ernie said.
"No, when I read it you had the right of it. If you'd asked the bridge audio is all recorded. Gordon would have probably OK'd a word search for research purposes. But I didn't think it was such a surprising thought you'd even take note of it. I wouldn't have been offended if you'd just used the concept without attribution."
"You are too modest! It never occurred to me. I can assure you I get a lot of comments on the public postings and other people were surprised by the idea too," Ernie told her. "I'm going through the images the Dart made of the planet and will incorporate this information in the paper too. It's subject to revision until we get home. I've gotten good comment from people who asked for clarification or made suggestion that have improved it. I'll detail the important changes in the bibliography."
"Are you finding the things you expected?" Choi asked.
"Some, but not necessarily where I expected them, and in patterns I didn't anticipate. I'm looking at all the surface features the computer tagged as having regular forms that might mark them as artificial constructions rather than natural formations. I've eliminated sixteen already, and have that many to go that the computer assigned high values. After I've done them I'll go back and study the fissures and tracks when my mind has had a break from them. You understand?"
"Sure," Choi nodded. "If you stare at something long enough it starts to look all the same, or worse your natural inclination to find patterns starts making you see things that aren't there."
"Exactly." Choi still looked interested and wasn't sliding to the front of her seat and looking at the exit, so Ernie spoke further. "This for example looks like a pyramid, but it is obvious it isn't a constructed pyramid when you examine it closely. The programming picks it if it is within certain parameters. If you set it too tightly it might not show you a constructed pyramid that was weathered or damaged. So one more eliminated. Next image," he told the ship's computer.
The pointy hill disappeared and a flat almost featureless plain showed. There was an area with some dark dots bracketed by the computer and Ernie zoomed in on it. The lighting was oblique, and the dark dots resolved as shadows. He zoomed in closer.
"Computer, can this image be reconstructed from overlapping shots show more detail?" he requested.
"Processing. Heavy usage will delay the result for twenty seconds," the pleasant voice said. It took almost that long to inform him of that.
The picture sharpened considerably. Neither of them said anything, just looked. The shapes beside the shadows resolved to polygons, but of such perfect form to preclude a natural origin. If there was any doubt they were spaced evenly around a common center.
"Well... " Ernie said, stunned.
"They missed," Choi said. It took Ernie a moment to understand what she meant.
"Perhaps not. There may have been a bigger facility, base if you will. Especially if there were spacecraft there. This may have been an unimportant outpost not worth bombarding. Or they may have known there would be no rescue and the folks here doomed. Indeed if the quake was sufficiently severe from the strike they may have all been killed or injured beyond recovery even this far removed."
"Maybe," Choi allowed. "We'll have to go see now."
"Well of course. We'll tell Gordon. I can't imagine he won't send a ship back. Perhaps even take the entire fleet there. Ernie looked at the clock. "They have two hours still before their shift. I'm off until two shifts from now for my engineering duty as long as we are on a light orbital schedule. How fortuitous I wasn't on my usual schedule opposite you, and took a late turn sitting with you."
"Hey, I think you'd have found this anyway," Choi said, nodding at the screen. "You were going to search for fissures and boulder gouges and stuff, right?"
"Yes, but not artificial structures. That was a direct result of your hypothesis," Ernie assured her.
"Oh... Well, glad to be of help," she said modestly.
* * *
"I wonder if the Caterpillars just trailed along watching the Badgers, or if they did their own survey of the planets?” Lee said, after the possible structures were revealed.
"Ask Captain Fussy," Gordon suggested. "I never thought about it since they are so hard to talk to. They seem content to just watch us. It's too difficult to ask them. Maybe he had some clue from how they maneuvered. Whether they stuck tight with him as he orbited the planets or stood off."
"They are hard to talk to... " Lee's voice caught changing pitch, and she looked hard struck.
Thor and Gordon looked at each other and then stared at Lee. She seemed to be unaware. In fact her mouth was hanging open from whatever epiphany had seized her.
"I presume you have some further insight about that?" Thor prompted her.
"Maybe," she said, suddenly shy. "I mean I don't know, but I had a thought. The Caterpillars seem to be ahead of us technologically in some areas... "
"In most," Thor said, when she let the statement hang.
"Maybe," Lee allowed again, much more tentatively than she usually was, "but remember how we noticed right away that the Badgers were very skilled at communicating with us when we met? We're ahead of the Badgers in a lot of ways, yet we saw right away we weren't as slick as them, having just been through meeting the Bunnies.
“I think we are more generally advanced than the Badgers and their friends, but they seem to have learned a lot in meeting each other. The Badgers may be holding back figuring it's our fleet and command. I think we may have assumed the Caterpillars, being so advanced, must be just as advanced at meeting and communicating with new alien species. Maybe expecting them to step up and initiate it. But if they don't have experience that's not true and it's not going to happen. For all we know when they ran into the Biters that may have been their first alien contact."
"It's not like nobody was trying at all," Thor said. "Luke sent quite a few images and words to them. He finally just burned out, because he wasn't getting any response. A couple people have tried to find some pattern in the hooting sounds and gotten nowhere."
"Luke works hard but doesn't have a lot of imagination," Lee said as kindly as possible.
"Well, meeting the Biters as a first contact could put you off meeting new races at all," Thor said.
"Really! But it makes me wonder if it isn't more than having a very different video format that's been holding us back. They may have no skills with meeting strangers. We are a lot different than them. I mean, everybody we've met has hands and feet. Well, except whatever dragged our lander under on the water world. We're much more like everybody else we've met, and it helps. They may not even have the concept of translation," Lee guessed. "What if they only have one language?"
"Derf only have one language," Thor asserted. But after the look Gordon gave him he modified that. "Somebody from the other side of the ocean may sound pretty strange, but the written language is, uh, very similar."
"Huh, somebody from the Isle of Fire sounds like an ill cow bellowing," Gordon said. "Though it isn't a good idea to tell them quite so plainly."
"I'd like a chance to try drawing pictures and seeing if I can establish a few words with them. I did pretty well with the Badgers, didn't I? Could I use the 3D?" Lee asked Gordon.
"Sure. It's not my private system. I can trade consoles with you and let you sit here to use it. All the functions will route to any seat on the bridge," Gordon assured her. "But if you aren't that impressed with Luke, and think the Badgers are so much better at interspecies communication why aren't you asking your friend Talker to help you get through to the Caterpillars. You certainly seemed... affable enough with each other."
"Affable... " Thor said, and snorted disdainfully. "She's got him wrapped around her finger, too."
"Thanks, I'll start making some notes and sketches," Lee said, ignoring Thor. Gordon ignored him too so she must have been right not to dignify it with a response. Especially the too.
"You know, being able to talk about tentacles might be handy for whoever goes back to that water world."
Gordon just blinked and looked at her.
"Well, they do have that in common," Lee said, reasonably.
"I know. It's just jarring how you jump around from one idea to the other with no warning," Gordon said. "They don't always look connected to us."
* * *
When the fleet got ready to return across the system to the planet with structures, Lee asked Talker to come over and help her try to talk to the Caterpillars. He irritated her a bit by asking if Gordon was aware of the project. She almost told him she wasn't Tish, and bit it off before she said it. When they brought him over he had a bag, so she was happy he understood it wasn't a one shift project. She took his hand, Badger style, and took him to his room and the bridge. Hand-holding he understood at a deep emotional level and it calmed him. It had taken her a while to understand how important it was to Badgers. Maybe there was hope that what had moved the Caterpillars would reveal itself too.
Lee and Talker sat at the 3D camera and tried to tell them why they were backtracking. Lee made sure to put on shoes for groundside with treaded soles so she could show them that they were like the boot they'd found and the one on the whole leg. They held a com tablet with pictures of the boot and a diagram of where they found it in the system. They showed the leg they'd given the Caterpillars and the new boot beside the one still attached. They even showed a separate image with the boot on the leg circled. The Caterpillar watched, but were impossible to read.
"Perhaps they can't really process flat images?" Talker said in frustration.
"They sent and received images of the different races back at your world," Lee said.
"From this ship?" Talker asked. "The one following us?"
Lee looked surprised and then embarrassed. "I'm not sure. There were three ships. A smaller one." She grimaced. "Not really smaller. Way bigger than any of ours, but under a kilometer, smaller than the other two that came in with it. The smaller one seems to have been the one our people met off in another system chasing the Biters. Then they showed at Far Away. We assumed they followed our guys back. But it's not like they ID'd themselves in the transmission. We might have been talking to the smaller ship, not this one that took The Champion William away."
Talker got that crease between his eyes she suspected was a Badger frown.
"Show me the messages," he said.
Lee got the images that Chance Ochocinco on the fast courier Road Runner had been in charge of, with a small away fleet doing survey work. He'd ordered the images sent to the first Caterpillar ship they met. Einstein on the Sharp Claws actually composed and transmitted them. Talker studied the mosaic image of all the races sent to them. The Biters were excluded.
"Then later, around your world, Gordon exchanged this images with the three Caterpillar ships," Lee said, "As you pointed out I'm not sure which ship he was talking to."
"May I point out, these successful communications are all multiple images," Talker said.
"Mosaics, yeah. Well, except for the one. That's an outlier," Lee admitted.
"I suspect that image was like them shouting – LIE!" Talker told her.
"OK, so what is your point. Why does it matter?" Lee asked.
"I suspect that they think a little differently than us. Not to judge it as better or worse, but very much differently, than how Humans or Badgers think. We on rare occasions have a Badger born who has a very hard time thinking the same as what we consider 'normal'," Talker said. "They may not speak grammatically. Indeed they may not even speak sequentially. And often they don't process written language correctly and get it all jumbled if they try. Perhaps these folk are all like that and it is normal for them. They might make perfect sense to each other."
"So it isn't really the video format that was the problem?" Lee asked.
"No, I mean, what are the chances they went straight to super definition 3D? Pretty hard to do without a long development path," Talker insisted. "No, it's how we edit the video, even if they did have a hard time processing it. I suspect our plain sequence of images doesn't make sense."
"I remember reading something similar. Give me a second to do a search," Lee asked. Talker was patient while Lee looked through the web fraction and read.
"Yeah, Humans have cognitive disorders like that. People who can't use normal syntax in speech or have difficulty reading facial expressions, sometimes even recognizing individuals. They write letters backwards and such, but they may be better at odd things like mental calculation."
"I propose we try presenting our information in a matrix. Each image should be positioned with its relationship to the other in mind," Talker said.
"Well the lone boot should be next to the connected boot," Lee suggested.
"And we need to connect it to the planet and site we want to visit," Talker said. "Otherwise it is just associated with the mining site.”
"Yes, but on another side touching the image of where it was found," Talker agreed. But alone, just connected on one edge, so we aren't saying we are going there."
"Yes, if we are going back put a picture of our fleet touching the planet and site." Lee said.
"Yes, and a separate image of the possible buildings we want to visit also touching, but include an image of their ship with ours if we want them to come along," Talker added.
It took them another twenty minutes to shuffle the images around until they were satisfied. Starting at the top left they had boot – blank – boot and leg. Second row the site the foot was found – blank – the site the leg was found. Third row, blank – a square with the planet and buildings with all their ships so it touched at the corners with the row of sites above.
"But we didn't fill the grid," Lee complained. "What do we do? Just leave blanks?"
"Why not? Doesn't that fit the fact we don't know a great deal?" Talker said.
"Yeah, but filling it up nice and square has a certain elegance," Lee said.
"We're not even sure this is how they talk and you want to do poetry already!" Talker complained.
Lee laughed. "Yeah, well maybe I'm getting ahead of myself," Lee admitted. "I'm thinking you could compose more extreme statements by shape. Instead of three squares by three squares you might space it two by six. And horizontal or vertical alignment might mean different things to them too."
"Or one line of images for something really simple like, They see us, run!" Speaker suggested.
"Wow, yeah, and I can see a blank square being uncertainty or lack of information," Lee said.
"Are you confident enough to send it now?” Talker asked.
"No, but go ahead and do it. I'm never going to be confident until we trade matrices back and forth and it makes sense to both of us," Lee admitted.
Talker activated the set and displayed the matrix to it.
A Caterpillar looked out of the alien set at them. They still could not tell which one or read any emotion. But the hooting he spewed forth seemed to indicate he was moved by their composite. Whether it was moved with anger and loathing, or sudden warm camaraderie was impossible to tell.
"It may take them a bit to argue what we meant and generate a reply," Talker warned.
"Or they may be laughing their, uh, rearmost segments off and calling everybody to look at what the silly mammals sent," Lee worried.
"Mammals?" Talker asked.
"Well, mammal analogues," Lee allowed. "Are you really going to make me say fish analogue and bird analogue for every non-Terran sort of critter when they are functionally the same?"
"No, not unless you are writing a formal paper," Talker decided. "What are you thinking," he demanded suspiciously. “I can see you are considering something intensely."
"Talker, you can't possibly read me that well already," Lee complained. "That's Gordon's hobby."
"And Thor's too, if the chatter on the command circuit is any indication."
"I'm just thinking about the hooting," Lee admitted. "If it has to be understood as a matrix instead of linear then it may be really complex. You might have to read an instruction on how many rows and columns to assign the rest of the statement. Probably a number upfront too. What if they read them on the diagonal, too? And what if they do different geometries? What if they arrange statements radially around a center one? At different radii to show probability or strength of emotion? "
"Is there some coffee available?" Talker asked, overwhelmed.
* * *
Hoót-hoöt-hôôt – stared at the screen in shock and amazement. These insane scary beings had actually tried to say something coherent. It was as crude as a six segment grub might do, but it clearly was an attempt at structure. But what was the statement? He could read it three ways easily. And a couple meaning held subtle inferences...
But no. Subtle wasn't something to look for here. The ugly thing was off center, weighed to the side and crooked. It was... curt, without any moving images. Just like the aliens had barked at them before. They weren't trying to be rude, Hoót-hoöt-hôôt realized. They were horribly handicapped in language.
Several eyes needed to see this before he replied. Wisdom is multiplied by the abundance of a word, he remembered the school phrase so often repeated. The matrix was one word to him, and his language an infinity in which a word was composed at need and might never be repeated. Linear sentences were for simple limited minds or something like 'I see you' – baby talk. Hoót-hoöt-hôôt called six of his peers to solicit their consensus.
* * *
"As soon as the Sharp Claws gets done scooping fuel we'll all go back to the damaged world," Gordon informed them. "Do you have any idea if the Caterpillars are going to accompany us again?"
"No more idea than before. They haven't replied to us and I'd rather not send more until they make some kind of reply," Lee said. "We tried to say to come along, and why."
"Unless we messed up and said don't come along, it's none of your business," Talker worried.
"Then we'll just go, and they can do as they please," Gordon said.
"You know, the last time we had the caterpillar on their projector there, I thought I saw some pattern to the way he held all his fine tentacles," Lee said.
"Can you describe it?" Talker asked her.
"Not in detail, but there was kind of a wave from the center out when he saw our message. Just about the time he made his first hoot."
"Play it and see if any of us see it," Gordon demanded.
The video was short and looked straight at the display. Of course it lacked the 3D aspect and it wasn't as sharp, but only in comparison to the alien's system. It was plenty sharp to see each fine tentacle. It only when you looked at the two video systems running side by side it was apparent how much better the alien system was. You felt like you could reach out and touch them.
"Yeah, I saw it," Thor said first. "Of course what it means beyond maybe surprise is hard to say. But it does seem spontaneous, not an affectation."
"Why do you say that?" Talker asked.
"There was no delay. It rippled out as soon as the hoot started. Now Gordon here is the master of the raised eyebrow, but that's a learned Human gesture and he does it consciously for added emphasis. It's a learned language of gesture and he hesitates. Almost imperceptibly, but it's there."
Gordon replied, but only with an eyebrow raised high and cocked at a sharp angle.
"See?" Thor said.
Chapter 16
"Sharp Claws reports fueled and ready to maneuver," Brownie reported.
"Tell them when to move and which direction," Gordon said, not interested in the details.
"Giving them a minute window and a general arrival time. Seven tenths G transit so they can all figure their own path and it'll be much the same. It's not like we're running to jump and it's fussy."
"Yes?" Captain Fussy of the Dart asked. It was the first time he'd tried a joke in English.
"If I even knew what time units the Caterpillars use I could tell them we are leaving," Brownie said frustrated. "Think on how to ask that," he directed at Lee and Talker.
When the High Hopes started to move the alien video display came alive. Fortunately it was recorded by the camera looking over Gordon's shoulder. A square of three windows on a side was as simple a statement on which the group of Caterpillars could agree. But they all nine ran very fast video simultaneously. The bridge crew all discussed it after slowing the video down and comparing the relationships at length. It was humbling.
"They're smarter than us," Lee decided, and boldly declared it before anybody else was brave enough to say it aloud.
"At the very least they are quicker," Talker agreed.
"I have to dissent," Thor said.
"Of course you do," Gordon said.
"Seriously, I can see the advantages of that sort of a mind," Thor allowed, "but our plodding linear way is not without benefit. Can they ever say anything but the simplest statement without ambiguity? It may be an elegant language but sometimes, like fighting a ship, you want short plain orders that can't be misinterpreted."
"It must be fun if they have a legal system and have to argue cases in a court," Talker said.
"Just tell me plainly if they are coming along," Gordon asked.
Talker looked worried. Lee grimaced and admitted, "I'm still not sure."
"Yes, because they are already moving with us," Brownie said.
* * *
For as little atmosphere as the planet had, the sky was remarkably bright. Pink tinted toward violet, and much stronger near the horizon, which gave it a tunnel effect. Straight overhead a few bright stars showed through in full light. It was cool, but nothing the suit heaters couldn't handle.
The field they landed on was so flat you'd think it was graded. The soil was blinding white to where you needed to turn you faceplate very dark. There were flakes and grains of something in the ground that returned tiny specular reflections, but it was hard packed almost like paving. Their exhaust hardly raised any dust.
The Caterpillars let them land first but showed up before everybody was out of the shuttles.
"Show-offs!" Thor accused as they floated down with no exhaust.
"If they can get lift with no jet why don't they do that with the big ships?" Lee asked.
"One more thing to ask," Gordon said. "Maybe it only works well in a high gravitational gradient?"
The superior technology was somewhat wasted on the chassis. Their landers looked more like a double cab pickup with no wheels than any sleek futuristic vehicle. The plain box rears with rails and tie-down cleats were probably very practical. But utilitarian. To make them feel even more primitive the Caterpillar vehicles didn't really land. They remained hovering a hand's breadth above the ground.
"We know they have a fast courier not much bigger than our shuttles," Thor reminded them, "but I'd love to have the franchise to sell these babies. Put a little style on them and a Lemon metal flake paint job with purple flames on the front and I can ask anything I want for them."
"You are already so rich you won't have any idea how to spend it," Lee accused him.
"As always, you sorely under estimate me," Thor said.
The buildings were about a half kilometer away. Gordon was worried about blowing dust on them and shaking them if they were in delicate condition. The Caterpillars obviously didn't have to worry about that but sat down beside them. It was a nice indication they had some social graces since they just copied what the others were doing.
Lee was hoping to see what sort of a gait they used in those suits with the bunched legs, but she saw very little as they unloaded what looked like surfboards from the back of one lander and rode them along floating instead of walking like the others. The ground was so hard they didn't leave a footprint.
"We are just so outclassed," Thor groused.
"It looks like they poke two of those mechanical tentacles down into a slot on the board for controls," Lee said. "Are they short rounded sections or is that a spiral in the metal?"
"I don't see an angle to the crease," Talker said. “I think they each have a little ball joint of sorts."
"At least they don't just think where they want to go," Thor said.
"They undoubtedly could control them from within the suit by radio, but it's worth noting they still go with hard wired controls and some sort of manual input rather than trust a radio link in the various hazardous environments they'd encounter," Ernie Goddard said. It was the engineer talking.
Shuttle crew remained in the two vehicles, and their ground party was organized. The Caterpillars had only two representatives and Gordon wondered why two landers? The vehicles looked like they could carry two. Maybe they wanted the extra lift capacity for artifacts?
The first building they came to looked pretty much whole. That wasn't to say it looked good. The outer walls were leaning off vertical on an east-west line. It was one of the smaller ones on the edge of the complex. Only about four meters high, it was a hex about fifty meters along each flat. It was so low and small it hadn't even shown clearly on the original image Ernie had examined. Those building were higher to cast a much bigger shadow and a couple hundred meters on a side. They started a slow circuit of the building.
"Are you still doing OK?" Lee asked Ernie.
"OK for what?" he seemed confused.
"It seems like you were hurt so recently. Are you still sore or stiff?" Lee wondered.
"No, they wouldn't have released me to duty if I wasn't 100%. This isn't exactly a grueling hike, and it's a really light suit. I've worn heavier winter clothing before. But thanks for your concern," Ernie said.
"When my foot was hurt on Earth it took me a couple months to heal," Lee remembered.
"I got all kinds of healing accelerants and my bad break was put in an electric field that shifts frequency and moves things right along. Is the medical care that bad on Earth now?" Ernie asked.
"They didn't treat it. When I was arrested I kept asking, but they never let me see a nurse. I finally stopped asking," Lee explained. "By the time I was released to my cousin it was pretty well healed. The swelling was all gone and it just kind of ached late in the day for a while. When I got to Fargone I saw a doc and he scanned it and said – 'Yes, it had a couple small fractures'. Nothing mended crooked so there was really nothing to fix."
Ernie surprised her with the anger on his face. "Refusing to treat a wounded prisoner is torture. It's a war crime."
"We weren't at war, yet. It was just a criminal matter," Lee said. "But Gordon gave them their war."
"I know. And now I'm understanding why," Ernie said. He was still frowning.
"Look at this," Gordon said ahead of them. Lee realized she was lost in conversation with Ernie and hadn't been examining the building or their surroundings.
Gordon was peering in a crack where the flat sides of the building met in an apex. The panel to their left they'd just marched past was still pretty straight, but the next one was leaning out a good twenty degrees. Gordon played a powerful light through the crack, but declared nothing was visible.
"Since we have a crack here how about getting a sample of the material?" Thor asked.
"As long as you don't make sparks. For all we know this is a storage magazine where they kept explosives," Gordon warned.
"I've got it," Ernie said. He pulled a handsaw out of a leg holster. It was about a half meter long with a coarse diamond grit edge. It cut the material fairly easily, and he made two angle cuts from a little over waist high. That gave him a triangular piece of the wall for a sample about two hundred millimeter on a side. Ernie flipped it looking at both sides, tried it over his knee, and handed it to Gordon. The Caterpillars came up close and looked interested, so Gordon passed it to them and asked Ernie to get another piece.
"Roger," he agreed. He was cutting a much bigger notch. Big enough to see better, and big enough to go inside if they thought it safe. When he had his long cut made he went back to the start and got another small sample, then continued making a bigger opening.
"I don't know if I want to go in there," Gordon worried. "The whole thing looks like it is ready to come down."
"Maybe with our common building materials," Ernie said. "But this is about five millimeters thick. Try to bend it," he invited, with a grin.
Gordon's suit had adjustable grippers on his heavy middle arms that could be locked. He grabbed opposite corners and closed the jaws, then applied the locking levers. Putting some muscle into it he got less than a centimeter deflection.
"Some kind of composite," Gordon decided. "Probably a carbon compound, graphene matrix or bucky tangle, and a really good binder, because it has a lot of UV exposure."
"Yeah, have Thor pull on the edge of the crooked wall when I'm done cutting. If he can't get it to move I'll gladly go in and trust the roof not to fall on me," Ernie volunteered
Thor couldn't budge it.
"OK then, just stick your head in with a light and see if we want to investigate further," Gordon allowed.
Ernie did lean in, head and shoulders. They could see the bright light flashing around past him although he pretty well filled the hole. When he turned off the light and withdrew he looked horribly embarrassed.
"What do you think?" Gordon asked.
"I think we should have walked all the way around first," Ernie said. "There's an open doorway in the next section down. Oh, and a pile of junk on the other side."
After everybody stopped laughing enough to see straight they started walking for the entry. Lee wondered what the Caterpillars made of them all cracking up. Did they laugh? Everybody they'd met laughed, except maybe the Biters. She wasn't sure they had a laugh in them.
The door was intact. It was just laying on the ground well away from the opening. For the first time they saw signs of how old the ruin was. There was a line of fine dust built up along one edge and drifted over the face a bit.
"Well we know which way the prevailing wind is now, such as it is," Thor said.
"Something has to raise the dust I'd think," Ernie said. "Either an earthquake or a meteor strike, and then the thin atmosphere carries it as it falls."
"I'm not sure. There may occasionally be a huge storm. Relatively speaking. What would be a slight breeze we'd never notice standing here," Gordon speculated. He leaned over and drew a finger through the fine dust. It was only the thickness of the door, about five millimeters just like the wall.
"I think maybe the pressure inside the building went up sharply and it simply blew the door off," Ernie said. "See how it is some distance from the opening? I saw something similar once with an old house. It had a gas leak and had an explosion inside. It blew glass window panes out but didn't break them. They were just laying there on the lawn whole."
Gordon walked to the opening and examined it. "There is a sort of channel with the outer lip ripped a few places. If the pressure went up inside sharply enough to make the whole building expand then it would have increased the opening and made it easier to fail."
"I can picture that," Lee said, "but what I can't picture is how the pressure went up. Just being jerked back and forth in an earthquake wouldn't change the volume that much. Why the pressure rise?"
"Maybe we'll find an answer in the junk," Ernie said. "Maybe a ruptured pressure vessel or something."
They were all pressed in on Gordon who was blocking the entry pretty effectively. Even the Caterpillars were looking around the edge. Gordon spread his middle limbs to dramatically block the doorway and explained: "I want one of you to go in and record the entire interior in video. Including the floor of the place before we all go tracking it up. And work from one end to the other of all that pile against the right wall before we touch anything."
"I'm used to taking specimen photos and documenting things," Lee said. "I also brought my good camera instead of just my pad. It won't take long. Would you all shine your lights in the door while I go across? It will reduce the contrast and make processing easier."
Gordon for once didn't object to her doing something. The floor was almost even with the ground outside; less than a centimeter higher, but a darker tan color. It might have been made with local materials because it seemed to be full of small random shapes of different colors that could be gravel. If so it was ground flat after being cast.
About half way across there was a thin streak of dust drifted across the floor. Lee reported it and panned the camera both ways to record it. It didn't seem worth preserving or sampling. There seemed to be some scrapes and gouges on the floor too, running left- right like the dust. When she looked up at the roof there wasn't any opening visible so it must have been blown in the door.
When Lee got to the far side and had recorded the entire floor she move to her right and started back recording the jumble of artifacts piled against the wall. The rest of them followed her recording in real-time on their pads or in their suit display. Gordon handed his pad to the Caterpillars, and they seemed engrossed in it, having no apparent trouble with it not being one of their own 3D displays.
"OK, now we can look over the junk there. I mean, valuable archeological artifacts!" Gordon corrected. "Let's do it this way. If you see something you want to move and inspect tell everybody. After we have a consensus it is safe first and foremost, then we will discuss if it can be moved without destroying it. This isn't a formal dig with grids and documentation, but I want to record when we pick anything up so we see what is around it and what is under it."
They all filed along looking intently. Thankfully the Caterpillars held back, watching them as much as they were eyeing the wreckage. If they'd dove in and started digging willy-nilly there was no polite way to ask them to desist.
"This is some sort of vehicle," Ernie said, shining his light on it. They all looked and agreed. It was leaning over on its side. There were two wheels with tires at either end. The tire was deformed – flat – against the floor. At an angle the tire was squashed flat at about a forty-five degree angle from the way it would sit upright.
"I'd like to drag this outside and have a good look at it in the light," Ernie said.
"The tires will probably disintegrate if they used any sort of material like we have," Thor said.
"Yeah, be sure to get good pix of them before we try to move it, Ernie agreed.
Lee and Ernie took video from two angles as Thor and Gordon grabbed each end and pulled it off the pile. It was twice or three times as big as a motorcycle for Humans. Lee realized she'd never seen anything like a motorcycle for Derf.
"It's a two seater, and even at that they must have been big," Ernie said.
"No," Talker disagreed. "I don't see any sort of seat. Just a rounded cover for the machinery that wouldn't be comfortable to sit on at all. I'm of the opinion they had four legs and stood with their belly over the center."
“The four pedals sticking out have recessed tops," Lee noted. “If they had a big flat foot that would locate them nicely and keep them from slipping off."
The tire shed some chunks of the outer layer with a tread pattern molded in, but it didn't totally disintegrate to dust. There were cords or wires inside that became visible as the outer layer broke off, any flexibility it had had long gone.
"There's a cable going down to the hub in each wheel," Ernie said. "I'm guessing it has an electric motor in each hub. Most Human motorcycles are rear drive only."
When they started to drag it toward the door one of the Caterpillars surprised them with a hoot. They weren't even aware they had found their shared radio channel and were listening in. He flowed off his board and positioned it parallel to the motorcycle making it sink down within a couple centimeters of the floor. They didn't know it could do that. He also held a couple tentacles out and patted the top of the floater board if he wasn't obvious enough, and gave another hoot.
Ernie laughed and tried to hoot back. It wasn't a very good hoot. He'd never earn a living with impressions, but it made the Caterpillar twitch so hard Lee thought he left the ground. Then he relaxed and made their long gobbling noise.
"I think he just had a good laugh at your pathetic hoot," Lee said.
"I wish you'd warn us when you are going to try something like that," Gordon said. "I'm just glad he took it OK and didn't get upset."
When they leaned the alien motorcycle over on the board it didn't try to slide away. "Don't cover up his control recess," Ernie warned. Whatever the Caterpillar had done had pinned it in place and it barely yielded a little as they lifted the motorcycle in place, trying not to drag it across the hover board.
"We should have brought a couple pull wagons," Ernie decided.
When it was laying on its side pretty evenly Thor gave it a couple taps with one toe to make sure it wouldn't fall off. "All yours," he said to the Caterpillar after he stepped back, doing a low bow and a dramatic hand sweep to tell him to take his board back. The Caterpillar surprised him by dipping on his forelegs like a curtsey and made a double flourish each way with his main tentacles. Everyone laughed at the mimicry, even Talker, and sure enough the Caterpillar did the warbling gobble again.
"That has to be their laugh," Lee insisted.
"Maybe you should concentrate on sign language instead of speech," Talker said. "He seems to take to that without much prompting."
"Alright, that's worth a try," Lee said, "but it's we should try sign language Ke-mo-sah-bee."
"OK, that's a new word again, and it isn't even in my pad," Talker complained.
"My parents used to drag that up any time you tried to edit yourself in or out of something," Lee said. "I'm not even sure where it comes from. I'll try to find out later."
The Caterpillar stuck a single tentacle in the control recess and the board lifted a bit. He walked along beside it until they were outside. Lee noted the bunched up legs did ripple from front to back. A new wave starting at the front before the previous one reached the rear.
"Wow the bearing is still loose," Ernie said surprised, tugging on the wheel back and forth. "You'd think any lubricant would be hard and the wheel welded in place solid. It must have magnetic bearings or some other non-contact form. I'd like to take this back to the ship. We might get some pretty important engineering advances from it."
"Hmm. It's kind of big and massy," Gordon complained. "Maybe if the Retribution doesn't mind hauling it along. They have more open hold space than us since they left so much stuff behind for the Murphy's Law." He visibly had a new thought. "Assuming the Caterpillars didn't think we made a gift of it when we put it on their floater. I didn't think of that at the time."
"I think I saw the front wheel of another one in the pile," Talker said. "I'm looking at the video... Yeah, there's another one buried. Plenty for everybody," he quipped.
They continued removing smaller items from the pile, going in and out until they had a line of things laid out outside on the ground. Some were obvious, some a mystery. There was a remarkable shovel. The handle was short and very thick. The blade on the end was offset with a large flange to drive it into the earth on the right side. It implied a heavy user since the flange was so stout, and strong, because holding the weight of dirt on the blade would put considerable torque on the handle.
"We probably don't want to arm wrestle these guys," Ernie decided, turning the tool in his hands.
Talker was looking in his pad intently.
"Does our web fraction have anything about arm wrestling?" Lee asked.
"I'm that obvious? Yes, even a video. I don't mean to be offensive, but why?" he asked.
"Stupid male dominance games," Lee admitted. "Probably more common when drunk."
Talker blinked a few times and looked at her. "It's a natural for them. I'm going to introduce this to the Bills. With leagues by weight and betting in their bars, I'll make a fortune," he predicted.
"Just keep my name out of it," Lee pleaded.
Lee saw a strange shape poking out of a tangle of wire and what looked like crushed shelving.
"I want to drag a piece out here. And I want it for a souvenir if it's what I think it is."
"Where?" Gordon asked looking where she pointed.
"The black tapered thingy with the bulged end and a dip in the end piece," Lee said.
"Looks like a crutch end," Ernie suggested.
"Nah, it's a gunstock," Lee said with certainty.
"If it is, you might snag the trigger on something and set it off," Gordon worried.
"After all this time?" Lee said. "And besides, this is the back end of it. The business end is pointed away and if there is a trigger you'd be pulling it the other way."
"You don't know what their hands were like. Maybe they push their triggers forward," Gordon insisted. "And yes, it might still go boom if it used propellant. It has been sheltered and kept cool here. Take the other stuff from around it first, and then we can pick it up without dragging the other stuff down its sides."
The first piece pulled away was a frame with a blade and lever. "What the heck is this?" Thor grumbled. "A guillotine for rats?"
Lee could see Talker Badger-frown inside his faceplate and lift his pad up. She just reached over and pushed the arm with the pad back down. "Please, not just now," she asked him. "It's horrible and will take a lot of explaining." He lifted an eyebrow, a new trick he'd just learned, but relented.
"My mom used to trade in antiques," Ernie said. "If I didn't know better I'd say that was a plug tobacco cutter."
"I thought tobacco was smoked in cigars or the little paper tube cigars, cigar-ettes," Thor said.
"Yeah, but some people chewed it too. And that was sold bulk. The leaves were pressed into a sort of log with sweet flavoring," Ernie demonstrated with his hands. "If you went in a store, hundreds of years ago they cut off a chunk for you from a long rope of it with something very much like this."
"I think it's a toe-nail clipper," Gordon proposed.
Thor looked at it anew, held at arm's length. "You're scaring me again," he admitted.
That cleared enough of the stock to view that they could see it turned up at a right angle at the end. That was attached to a boxy shape with a metallic sheen, but its front was still buried. Thor pointed to a boxy shape on the other side to remove and Gordon said, "Yeah." After a slight pause Talker and Lee agreed. Ernie didn't say anything.
When the pulled it out, a clear shape fell from behind it. It hit the floor and Lee expected it to shatter, but it bounced and Talker snatched it before it could roll away. Ernie decided he could teach Talker to play baseball. Or at least field.
The box seemed to have a bunch of buttons and a screen, everybody pronounced it some sort of communication device.
"Or a puzzle or a remote control," Thor said, always the contrarian.
"I have a request," Talker said. He was standing back a little, and they all looked at him because his voice was so distorted suddenly.
"I realize we have no shares in your fleet, and may not make any claims. But I respectfully ask I be allowed to keep this," he said, holding the little bowl out that he'd caught. "It... speaks to me. If you wish paid for it, I offer any service I can. I'm afraid I have little wealth because I am not the first son and heir to get my father's lands, but what I have I'd pledge."
Lee was embarrassed because Talker was crying, with no way to wipe the tears or hide it in a suit.
"Hey, Talker, we're not like that," Gordon said, and surprised Lee by putting a middle arm around Talker's shoulders and giving him a little squeeze. "You are welcome to it. We're all rich so many times over we don't have to grub for every little thing. We just didn't intend to share... you know... He waved the other big arm to indicate everything. "Worlds and systems. Anymore than your dad will share out an estate that will be hurt by being divided. You are already giving us service."
"Thank you, Gordon. I'm serving my race and government as 'His Excellency the Voice', not you, but I am well paid for that both in money and privilege."
Lee wanted to tell Gordon to hold Talker's hand. He'd understand that better than a shoulder hug. But that would mean taking a hand off the bowl. So it didn't seem like a good time.
"You are serving us also with this exploration and the Caterpillars," Gordon reminded him. "Seems like you should get something besides 'thank you'. Consider the bowl a start," Gordon said.
"Thank you again. You honor me when I felt like a beggar."
"Let's see your pretty," Gordon encouraged him.
Talker held it out and shone a hand light through it from the bottom and everyone looked at it. There was no noticeable tint, and the outside was engraved. Ernie had seem similar, if not so delicate and detailed. Wheelwork, his mother called it. But the art on this was particularly fine. Alien flowers and leaves of different sorts on thin vines and tendrils that varied all the way around and didn't repeat. Who knew where the source of the art was among the stars? That made it unique.
The Caterpillars were interested too. One waved an instrument of some sort near it and softly hooted to his companion. He showed the screen to Gordon but it didn't mean anything to him. It was however a matrix and he noted that.
The other Caterpillar sidled over to Ernie repeatedly tapped the saw he'd used earlier.
"What about it?" Ernie asked, putting hand to handle.
The Caterpillar made an obvious awkward drawing motion. Did their jointed limbs really look that cumbersome too them?
"Here you go. But if you try to saw the bowl the furry little guy is going to kill you fella."
The Caterpillar didn't even want to take it. He simply touched his own scanner to the blade edge and handed it to his companion. Both scanners were presented to Gordon's view side by side. Lee thought she knew what was being demonstrated, but held her tongue.
"I can't read the damn things, and for Lee and Talker's information it does show a grid on the screen, but the key here is they are exactly alike as far as I can see. I'd say that Talker's bowl is made of diamond, the same as the saw blade."
"Get a shot of those screens for us, please," Lee asked.
"Already got it with my helmet cam," Gordon said. "Yes," he told the Caterpillar, nodding his head vigorously. "They sure are the same. Yes," he repeated, and gently pushed the instruments away.
The Caterpillar drew the instruments back and stared at Gordon. It was hard to tell where their big eyes were pointed, but he was definitely staring at Gordon. He turned and handed the second instrument back to his friend and both hooted at each other for a few seconds. When he turned back to Gordon he gave him that intense look again and nodded his whole front end up and down. "Hoot-es," he said distinctly to Gordon. Thor about fell over.
The really, really good part was that Lee got it all on her helmet cam.
A few pieces of shelving, or maybe just crushed angle iron, removed with care left more of the weapon exposed. Despite Gordon's warning the trigger curved to the front indicating it was pulled. Perhaps not by a single finger. The trigger had a very conventional guard, and it was big enough Lee could almost pass her whole hand through in front of the trigger. There was a square box sticking up on top with transparent stuff in it, but no magnification.
"I'm surprised the sight isn't busted the way this stuff was thrown against the wall," Lee said.
"Maybe it's diamond like the knick-knack," Ernie said.
Talker looked that up but said nothing.
Gordon finally allowed it was as safe as they'd ever get to remove it.
Lee got a firm grip on the front part of the stock that took a turn up into the bottom of the weapon. She pulled it out and a few small pieces fell in the void it made and nothing went boom. She nevertheless tipped the muzzle safely up, away from everybody.
"It's a rifle. Well, carbine," Ernie corrected. The barrel was relatively thin for the bore. The upright end of the stock was too big for Lee's hand, but she passed it over to Gordon and he could hold it easily.
"You're the engineer," Gordon told Ernie. "Do you think you can make it safe?" he asked and passed the weapon to him.
"Yeah, complicated is not an advantage in a firearm," Ernie said. "You want it to work with very little fuss and deep thinking," he said as he felt several levers and projections. "This has to be the ejection port," he tapped with his finger. "So this is to draw the bolt back. That's the easy one. So one of the levers will be the magazine release. Question is, does the lever on top drop it or the other?"
"They're right hand dominant," Lee said.
"How could you possibly know that?" Ernie asked, a little indignant.
"The offset on the shovel."
"Oh… OK, then this side is probably a safety, or a selective fire switch. Maybe both. And this will be the magazine release," he predicted, and pushed down on the lower with his thumb.
"They have thumbs too," Lee said.
"I don't doubt it," Ernie agreed, "or they couldn't work the lever without letting go. That would be a horrible design.” The whole lower part of the back boxy section fell away in Ernie's hand.
"I should have noticed, the magazine is textured on both sides for a better grip." He looked inside and studied it. "It's a rotary magazine with rimless cartridges. They may be silver instead of brass, although there are some nickel copper alloys that look like this. The bullet seems to be about seven or eight millimeter diameter. This is a serious weapon given the volume of propellant."
"Pull one and I'll have it analyzed," Gordon offered.
Ernie passed a single round to him.
Ernie reached in with a finger again to poke at it. "Wow, the spring is still pushing on it after all these years. I'd say If it spirals around twice it'll hold twenty to twenty-four. I like that it doesn't hang out of the bottom of the gun. Very sleek." He flipped the gun over and looked in the magazine well. "There's a lever here. It may be a breakdown gun you can take apart to carry easier.” He handed the magazine to Lee and reached into the bottom. The weapon didn't come apart into two big pieces, but it broke open on a hinge and the barrel and front pivoted down to expose the back of the barrel.
Ernie held it up and looked down the bore from the rear pointed at the bright door opening. "Very elegant," he purred, "the bore is wavy – polyangle rifled instead of sharp cut rifling. And it is polished mirror smooth. As you can see the chamber is empty and the magazine in Lee's hand. That's about as safe as you can make any firearm. Especially if you leave it broke open." He gave the rifle to Lee who left it hinged open, hanging over her arm.
The other motorcycle was dug out. There were other shapes of small electronics, and what were definitely containers of some sort. There was some discussion about whether they might be for food. One seemed to be vacuum insulated. There was a box of electrical connectors which were equipped with a wedge to pin the wire instead of crushing on it. It was a good design. Pulling on the wire would make it tighter. An adjustable wrench that could have said 'Crescent' or 'Cornwell' on the handle and none of them would have blinked. Instead it had a line of alien symbols that were all swirly designs, unlike anything they'd seen.
"Oh man... I hope it's empty," Ernie said, and took a step back.
"What have you got?" Gordon immediately asked, concerned.
"I think it's a spacesuit. At least the boot sticking out is pretty much like both we've seen."
"It would really be a big help to us if it wasn't empty," Gordon insisted.
"Not if I have to open it up," Ernie said. "I get all queasy on crap like that."
"Noted," Gordon agreed. "I promise I'll never ask you."
Stuff was moved, carefully, exposing the suit.
"It's a Centaur," Ernie said.
"Oh, you know this race?" Talker asked.
"No, it isn't a real race. They're old tales, fiction, mythology," Ernie explained.
"Looks pretty real to me," Talker said. "How do you know your early people didn't see one of these? I take it this was before photography?"
"Yeah, but we have a saying – if it isn't on video it didn't happen," Ernie said.
Talker looked at him intensely. "That seems excessively skeptical to me."
"Me too," Lee said. "I'm not that big on believing video either."
Let's take this out in the light," Thor said, and Gordon moved to help him. The Caterpillars offered a float board again.
"You still worried they will lay claim to what they've moved?" Thor asked.
"You know, they might be better able to reverse engineer it and understand it than us," Gordon said.
"Let 'em move it then," Thor agreed. "It's light but bulky."
They were pretty sure from the weight it was empty, but once outside Ernie figured out how to get the faceplate open. Once they had that the tall helmet was pretty easy. There wasn't any mummy or even bones. Ernie didn't say anything but his relief was visible.
The boots on the suit were different than the other two they had, the front pair subtly different than the back pair. Looking at them now they could see they had found one of each style.
"You know, these people and Derf aren't so different," Lee said. "Same number of limbs, but they just bend at a different spot."
"There's all the difference in the world," Thor said.
"Why," Lee asked. He was upset and she didn't know why.
"This is a herbivore," Thor said.
Lee didn't want to say anything more to upset him so she didn't ask why.
"The foot," Thor supplied, even though she didn't ask. "They may even have hooves."
"Oh…" He obviously felt no herbivore could be his peer. It surprised Lee. It was a bit too much like the Biters, but she refrained from pointing that out.
"It's getting near dark," Gordon observed. "Let's take a load of this stuff up and come back another day. Grab what you think is most important and carry it to the shuttle. We can bring a couple of pull wagons and get the rest tomorrow. It's not going anywhere."
As soon as they started walking carrying things the one Caterpillar took off on his floater board. Much faster than they realized they could go. The other with the motorcycle still on his board hooted at them a bit and waved his tentacles.
"I can't understand a word, but I bet his buddy is going to bring their lander," Lee predicted. "At least I hope so. It would be really nice."
She was right. The Caterpillar pulled up and turned around to make the bed accessible. Ernie was terribly amused that the tailgate was pretty much like a Human pickup truck. As soon as he stopped, the Caterpillar jumped out and took off for the other lander on his board he'd stowed in the back. The artifacts were all piled in the back and Lee, Talker and Ernie rode to the shuttles sitting on the tail gate, legs hanging in the air. It was a very smooth ride.
Gordon and Thor piled the motorcycle and the rest of the loot on the second vehicle. Gordon held out each item in turn to the Caterpillars. There was plenty to study here and who knew what else in the other building. He didn't get any reaction from them until one of the small electronic items definitely caught their interest.
Gordon let go of it as soon as the tentacles touched it. The Caterpillar took a few tentative steps away, uncertain and asked, "Hoot-es?"
"Yes, yes take it already. No need to be so polite." He turned away and grabbed something else to show the matter was over to him. The Caterpillar took the trinket into the cab.
When the back was full piled high, Thor sat on the tailgate to ride to the shuttles. The back end of it sank so low the Caterpillar got out and looked. Gordon thought maybe he'd have to walk, but the Caterpillar got back in and adjusted something. The vehicle leveled out and rose a bit from the surface. Thor gave a wave as he rode away.
When the first lander that carried the smaller folks back to the lander returned Gordon made shooing motions over the motorcycle on the board. When the Caterpillar seemed uncertain he went over and pushed on the board toward the bed of the second vehicle. However it had whatever sort of parking brake the things used. That impressed Gordon as much as the hovering.
"How about unlocking this thing?" Gordon said out loud. The Caterpillar took the hint seeing him pushing and made an adjustment. You could push on it now but if you let up it coasted to a stop in about a meter. Gordon pushed it around until it was lined up to go in the bed. The Caterpillar adjusted it to just clear the edge of the tailgate but left it to Gordon to push it in. Once the Caterpillar leaned in and dropped the hover board to the bed Gordon Hopped on the back like Thor had and said: "Let's go!" There wasn't anything else to load so that wasn't hard to figure out.
When they got to the shuttles Gordon jumped off and walked right up the ramp. If the Caterpillar couldn't figure out the motorcycle was his he could dump it there if he didn't want it. Or put it back in the building for all Gordon cared.
"Hey, watch and record these guys leaving," Gordon said in his com. "I'm curious if they take the motorcycle with them or leave it." By the time he climbed up to the control deck and strapped in the Caterpillars were lifted. He watched the video as his driver went back and secured a strap across the cycle and then they both lifted off and seemed to climb in no particular hurry.
Chapter 17
"You know when we get back and reveal all this stuff, the xenoarcheologists will all denounce us as looters and grave robbers," Ernie informed her. "They'd much rather stuff never be found than ugly amateurs have it. They moan it isn't available to everybody if it's held in private hands. Truth is it gets cataloged and boxed, and stuck away in some basement. The public has very little chance of seeing it again once it is in professional hands. And if some artifact doesn't comport with the current orthodox theory it may never be found again."
Lee regarded him over her pancakes and gave him a blank look. Since he was still looking at her, ignoring his own breakfast, he must expect an answer, so she said: "So? What do I care about them?"
"Just warning you so you can expect it," Ernie explained.
"First of all I bet almost all of these guys are Earthies, right? I don't expect to visit Earth again."
"Well yeah, oddly enough out on the actual frontier worlds and planets with aliens it's pretty damn hard to find a professor of any sort of alien studies," Ernie admitted.
"Why do you think that is?" Lee asked.
"Well, I've never taught. Certainly not at the university level. But from what I've seen traveling around, frontier worlds are short on schools, especially graduate level studies, and way short on extravagant funding of anything that doesn't have an immediate return on investment. There aren't any grants. Fargone bureaucrats may look superficially like Earth bureaucrats, but if you asked them for a grant to study the effect of coffee imports on single parent Fargoer households they'd probably bust something laughing. Frontier worlds are short on Hiltons and soft beds, long on bugs, and supposedly noble savages that can put a spear in your chest if you treat them like freshman students. Derf clan Mothers have even less tolerance of foolishness."
"The Red Tree First Mum told me a neighbor keep had an Earth scientist visiting. When the conversation turned to firearms he disagreed with her plain statement that Derf had had them before contact, and quoted a seminal text which held forth that Derf had no firearms when contacted. Nothing like calling your hostess a liar."
"What did she do? Ernie wondered.
"She tossed him out on his ear. I doubt she has hosted many Earth scientists since," Lee guessed.
"There have been places on Earth the ruler would have put his head on a lance outside the city gate to act as a warning to those lacking manners," Ernie assured her.
"I have my own lands on Providence I haven't built on, and there are no settlers yet. But I'll keep that in mind for when I build a home. It has a certain directness I appreciate."
It wouldn't have bothered Ernie so much, but Lee smiled thinking about it...
After eating silently for awhile Lee looked up and regarded him seriously. "You said when we go back and reveal all this stuff. We need to go back and file our claims. The rest of it, dealings with Badgers and their friends will mostly be between governments. Every little detail of everything else we did – like these artifacts – why do we owe that to anybody? What business is it of theirs?" Lee asked. "When I speak to Gordon I'm going to ask him what we owe the Earthies. Why detail a claim on junk we already sifted through and hold in our possession? It's a private voyage. I see no need to open our logs to them, knowing they'll be critical. Just state the basics of your claim. Fargoers maybe, they supported us. But Earthies, I see no reason to chat with them beyond business. I don't like Earthies.”
* * *
With the mismatch between their ship-shifts and the planet's rotation they didn't drop back on the planet until the morning of the second day from before. This time they brought the wheeled wagons most Deep Space Explorers carried to transport camp supplies and field specimens. Ernie also had learned his lesson cutting the wall and had a powered saw.
They landed closer to the large buildings, sure they weren't delicate and ready to fall over from an innocent nudge. Ernie brought something Lee hadn't been aware he owned, a folding bicycle that only weighed a bit more than two kilograms. The unfolding and locking of the frame, extending the kick-stand and parking it drew the Caterpillars. It looked so dainty Lee thought it should be crushed when Ernie sat on it, but it survived. He used it to circumnavigate the nearest big building before using the saw to cut an opening. He didn't want a repeat of the previous embarrassment.
"That's your private, uh, vehicle?" Lee asked him when he returned to where he left the saw.
"Yeah, I figured we'd be visiting planets. I've carried it with me for a few years now and even though it cut into my mass allowance I couldn't bring myself to leave it behind.”
They watched as the Caterpillars inspected the parked bike. The lifted it and spun the wheels.
"I b... think it very unlikely they ever invented a two wheeled vehicle," Ernie said, amused.
"Yes, but I can see them with a unicycle at each end," Lee said.
Ernie did a full double faceplant and still didn't have his face under control when he dropped his hands. "I don't know where you come up with this stuff, but that image is stuck in my brain now. I have this picture of a Caterpillar kid learning to ride and he can't get the rear to turn the same direction."
"Yeah, well I doubt training wheels would help them," Lee agreed.
Talker, quiet this morning, and not at all talkative, had taken video of Ernie approaching on the bike wearing a spacesuit. His daughter Tish would enjoy it. He also looked up training wheels on his pad. Training wheels as a search brought up a picture of a six year old girl with training wheels on a much sturdier bright pink bike that had a basket on front. An innovation that made sense to him, but there was also a bunch of colored ribbons hanging from each hand grip, which seemed to have no function at all. The wheels and ribbons all made as much warped sense as a lot that Humans did, but why would they include an article about them it in the web fraction they brought along on an interstellar journey? It was as odd and pointless as... He tried to think of an example. Then he realized it no more weird than actually bringing a bicycle, and closed his pad.
Ernie had most of the door cut while he was searching, and enlisted him to pry on the side to open it. He'd left a centimeter or so at each corner uncut to act as a hinge and keep it attached. Lee had a pry bar and pried it open enough for them to both get hands in the crack. Trouble was, when they swung it full open it sprang back almost shut. This composite was tough stuff.
Ernie reduced the hinges by about half and ran the saw down the outside of them, scoring a deep grove on the outside. This time when they forced it back to touch the wall beside it the door only sprung back about a third of the arc. Ernie adjusted his com from local transmission to the general channel and said: "This one's open, Gordon. I'll go cut check the next and cut it open if need be." One of the Caterpillars detached and floated along with him as he left.
The other Caterpillar was much less shy than their previous visit. He flowed through the door before Gordon could arrive and, like Ernie, was also better equipped than before. He had a super bright floodlight that lit the place up almost into the far corners when shone on the ceiling. Lee and Talker were not so bold and waited. When Gordon arrived he didn't say anything about the Caterpillar, but just looked inside and waved at them from the door to follow.
Gordon had no ready reference to describe the giant shape inside. Lee having visited an older lady on Earth, and helped in the kitchen, knew exactly what it looked like. It was a huge gold-colored Bunt pan sitting upside down. The Caterpillar was near out of sight, intent on gliding around it by all indications. Did it mean anything the float his board worked just fine beside the huge shape? Gordon walked over and laid a hand on it, almost as if he could feel it through his suit glove. Perhaps a vibration, but not temperature unless it was dangerously extreme.
"Get some sensors in here and see what you can find out about this thing," Gordon ordered.
"Look where it meets the floor," Lee said.
There was a gap, all of about two centimeters, where the floor stopped short of the monolith. Gordon leaned close and shone his helmet lights down it and rolled his head.
"And a thin line," Gordon added to the order. "Something under three millimeters with a thin but heavy plate or bar. Something for a weight to plumb down a hole for depth."
"So, was the hole made so precisely and the... thing, machine, installed in the hole or was the floor formed right up to it?" Lee asked. "It looks odd, but I've seen very few ground side installations. I'm used to big machinery in a ship, but even there you leave more room around something."
"No, you're right. I've seen our power plant for the keep and various pumping stations and things. All of which are basically Human design. If this was an Earthie designed installation there would probably big enough gap there to go down and service things. The floor would have a metal 'L' shape along the edge to protect it from chipping, and it would be painted with bright yellow slash lines to mark it as a hazard. It does look alien."
The line arrived from the shuttle with a large washer, about the size of Gordon's palm. Lee immediately wondered what it could be for, but stifled asking.
When Gordon tied the line around it and dropped it down the crack he seemed to play out the line for an awfully long time. Finally there was enough weight of line to make him uncertain he'd feel it hit. He continued to drop it but giggled it up and down as he did so. Finally he stopped and tested the feel in one spot. Lee turned up her suit mics and heard a ting-ting-ting.
"You got it," she assured him.
Gordon reached down and gripped the line at floor level with his middle arm. He looped the line around his elbow and back to his thumb. "Two meters," he informed Lee. She watched as he did twenty-six turns. "Fifty meters and a bit," Gordon said, scrunching his brow up perplexed. "Why didn't they build it flush on the ground or sunk all the way below grade? Why halfway?"
Thor, who had come in while they were measuring it, shrugged. "Maybe they had these buildings pre-fabricated and it's easier to sink the machine a bit than to make a taller building to cover it."
"It would be easier to guess if we had any idea what it does," Lee said.
The Caterpillar returned from his long trip around the machine. He didn't seem excited at all.
"The technician Gordon had requested with instruments ripped the adhesive transducer off the giant shape. "It's about twelve degrees under the surface temperature. I suspect because it has so much mass below grade and linked thermally to the soil or bedrock. Ultra-sound indicates there is a boundary of some sort, not an inside surface, about seven hundred millimeters from the outside. No radioactivity, no radio or audio emissions, no neutrinos and not a damn seam or bolt or rivet on the whole thing, although my partner is still checking. I'm going to have a twenty millimeter bore drilled outside to see what the temperature is at fifty meters, but I expect it to be a little lower than the machine up here. Whatever this does, in my opinion it is not doing it right now or it is completely beyond our comprehension."
"What is it made of? Gordon asked, patting it again.
"I'm scared to drill it," the techie admitted. "I respectfully request you allow me back in orbit before you punch a hole in this sucker."
"No need. How about just scraping a little off? If it can't be scraped off with a good pocket knife leave it well enough alone," Gordon agreed.
"Yeah, I'll do that," the fellow agreed, warily.
"Let's go see what Ernie has opened up," Gordon said.
When they left Lee looked back. The technician had a knife out and appeared to be working up his nerve to scape a little of the material off.
* * *
They met him outside the next big polygon.
"What's in this one? Another big lump? Gordon asked.
"Nothing."
Gordon looked shocked.
"I have two people searching all along the walls, and we'll look at every square meter of floor, but nothing so far, and I don't expect them to find anything, and the next one looks the same," Ernie said.
The rest of them were empty.
* * *
Gordon was still thinking on it, mystified, two days later. He was about ready to take the fleet and move on. He was working on the bridge even though they were in orbital watch mode. It beat working from anywhere else on the ship as long as he didn't take the conn. He expressed his frustration to John Burris who was standing the watch.
"Perhaps they were in the process of setting up something here and the asteroid strike caught them before they brought stuff in and filled the buildings," Jon Burris guessed.
The technician who was so afraid of drilling the huge housing had a report finally and said, "The seamless shape was an aluminum bronze, with nickel, silicon, iron and traces of other metals. The odd one is tantalum. Why would it have tantalum?"
"I don't know, but it would explain them mining the asteroid if they build many of these things. It wouldn't take much added to something that size to add up to a lot of tantalum. Otherwise it's not so different than some of the alloys Derf use," Gordon informed him.
"Yes, Humans have some similar alloys. But nothing of this size," the man emphasized.
"Well, yeah. Neither do we," Gordon admitted. "Thanks for the report."
"Something else that might interest you, sir."
"Yes?"
"The bullet in the cartridge you gave me is a bit better than twenty-two karat gold."
"That is really going to interest my daughter," Gordon said, laughing. "Did you check out the propellant? Would it burn?"
"It has degraded and out-gassed. It might burn half-heartedly if you put a match to it in air. But it isn't going to go 'bang' for you."
"OK, thanks again, Todd," Gordon said remembering his name finally. He had a block for the guy.
Vigilant Botrel showed up on the bridge in a better mood than Gordon. He tried to jolly his commander a bit and didn't have much success. He turned his head and looked surprised.
"Wow! Look at that aurora," Vigilant said, and then frowned. "Have you changed to a polar orbit? No, I'd have woke up if you shifted this much."
Gordon hooked his toes under his console foot bar and stood to give himself the same view as Vigilant. "Mr. Burris, I am looking at an aurora on the surface below. I want to know where it is located. And call Mr. Goddard to the bridge right now."
He remained standing, looking at the shimmering glow unbelieving. It was two concentric rings and occasionally when it flickered bright three. It was receding as they orbited, but still clearly visible when Ernie Goddard arrived at the bridge short of breath and freaked out. Gordon never said 'right now' unless it was life or death.
"What do you call that, Mr. Goddard?" Gordon said pointing at it like it was his fault. Ernie came in past Gordon and hovered beside Vigilant.
"Impossible," Ernie said.
"And yet there it is," Gordon said swinging his open true hand toward it.
"The planet doesn't have a magnetic field," Ernie objected.
"Actually, it does, now," Jon Burris informed them from the com board. "And that display is centered on... the buildings we visited."
"Why does that not surprise me?" Gordon asked.
"The star threw out a bunch of crap a few hours ago," Jon said. "That isn't surprising. It's noisy. I never gave it much thought because it would take a lot more to give us any trouble."
"The planet doesn't have any magnetic field," Gordon agreed. "Whatever ill fated installation they built before it was obliterated needed to be shielded from particle storms. So they built this device to shield the whole planet. Or who knows? Maybe they did it so commonly they don't have to custom build them and they came in standard sizes. They could have just measured the planet and put in an order to home for a number four... Maybe there is a model tag and build date on it down in the crack."
"So, what would be the optimum angular separation between the device and the protected area?" Vigilant asked.
"I don't know what's optimum," Ernie said. "but from where the center of the asteroid strike was to the buildings is pretty close to ninety degrees. I remember that from mapping it."
"Then I'd expect another machine generating the field opposite this one," Vigilant said.
"We didn't see anything. Well, the computer didn't tag anything," Ernie corrected.
"I have this small gift of prophecy," Vigilant said, grabbing his forehead theatrically with his spread fingers and tilting his head back at the overhead. "We shall see another aurora come over the horizon in about ten minutes, and it will be exactly opposite the other machine on this globe. If you don't go look at the surface pix, and see what is there, I predict your commander may pitch you out the airlock to make a flaming decent without benefit of shuttle to personally inspect the site."
Ernie stared at him mouth full open. "I'll be right back," he said, and exited like a salmon headed upstream on a mission.
The twin to the other aurora was fully in sight by the time Ernie returned.
"It was close to noon, local, when the pix were taken of the other site," Ernie explained. "It didn't cast any shadows. The stupid computer is blind. There are three buildings there and a couple smaller ones. I gotta write this up! I'll credit you on the paper, Vigilant! It's going to be astonishing!"
His exit ran straight into Vigilant's extended arm.
"Are you going to take up signing my checks for me too?" Vigilant asked. "Perhaps change your name and declare you are my heir?"
"Huh?"
"You don't put my name on anything you little twerp. When you have your paper all polished and want to ask me if I'd like to co-author it, I might decide to allow it, after you make any revisions I fancy. That's how you do it. I'm not easy going Choi Eun-sook, or the pleasant Mr. Burris over there, with whom you may take liberties. Do we understand each other?"
"Yes sir!"
"Very well." The arm was withdrawn.
"That was entertaining," Gordon said after he was gone. Vigilant just rolled his eyes.
"I guess the Caterpillars couldn't figure out what the big machine did either, or they wouldn't have walked around it unafraid. If that thing had started up, anything magnetic would have been smashed against it and pinned there until it shut off," Gordon said. "We lucked out on that."
"Possibly, or they might be much better at space weather prediction than us, and knew it wasn't going to activate," Vigilant suggested.
"Then we should only go there if they are willing to accompany us," Gordon joked.
"That or have nothing iron about our persons," Vigilant agreed. That made Gordon look thoughtful.
"Mr. Burris, we will be making another landing. No need to rush anyone. Have Brownie set it up since he'll be coming on soon. We can wait for the second dawn on the new site if that works better. I also need to talk to Ha-bob-bob-brie and Mr. Hillerman from engineering."
* * *
"We want to revert to landing further away," Gordon told the pilot before they even left orbit.
"Yes sir. Do you have a number?"
"Let's give it two kilometers, and see how it goes. I don't want you passing closely over the site either," Gordon warned him. "It's a critical safety issue."
"Got it," the pilot assured him.
"How did you pick two kilometers?" Lee wondered.
"Because that was how far the small shed with all the junk was from the big machine," Gordon said.
Lee didn't say any more, but scowled at him.
"Some of the objects in the smaller building were magnetic," Gordon elaborated.
"Ohhh... "
* * *
"Mr. Goddard, Lee, and Talker are going to go see if the smaller building contains artifacts again. Ha-bob-bob-brie and I are going to the large building we think contains the field generator. The field should be clearly centered on one specific building. My suit, being Derf made, contained little steel or other magnetic materials. We've replaced those few parts with copies printed of other materials. Ha-bob-bob-brie assures me his suit contains nothing magnetic, and a thorough check with a magnet by hand confirms that.
"Unfortunately we can't carry much in the way of instrumentation because of this limitation. We had to remove a few items we shouldn't need such as my helmet lights. It didn't seem worth fitting another non-standard part for this short excursion."
"It did occur to me we'd have been in a world of hurt if the star had fired up and made the machine kick in when we were standing right there." Lee said.
"Indeed," Gordon agreed. He didn't repeat his conversation with Vigilant. Lee already thought the Caterpillars were smarter than them, and for some reason it irritated him.
"I see the Caterpillars have landed. Likely wondering why we are so far away. They are a constraining factor. If I can't dissuade them from follow us to the building we may have to abandon the trip for their safety. Asking them if they have magnetic materials in their suits is way beyond what I'd trust to explain with sign language."
"I predict they will either stay away, or they already are aware what it is doing and don't have any materials that would be affected and so are safe," Lee said, confidently.
Gordon considered that. He'd found arguing with Lee's bolder assertions had a poor record of success. The quicker she came to a conclusion the worse it was to bet against it for some reason. "Maybe," was all he'd say.
He did notice Ha-bob-bob-brie pivoted his head sharply and regarded him. It was impossible to read the alien's face. Hinth move very little but their eyes. But Ha-bob-bob-brie worshiped the ground upon which Lee trod. He probably was offended Gordon would doubt his beloved Mistress. Talk about having him wound around her finger... The Hinth was far worse in that regard than Talker. Gordon was just glad he wasn't like that...
"I'm very worried about you approaching that thing," Lee said. "We already saw the other one. Why do you need to see its twin?"
"To know it is the twin," Gordon said. "I think it will be too, but I'm filing a claim on this world and specifically salvage rights to the magnetic machines and their tech. We'll be sending somebody back to investigate how this shield system works, and I want to establish it's clearly abandoned, and there aren't any aliens still here with property rights."
"It still scares me," Lee insisted. "I'd like a rope on your ankle to drag you back if it grabs on to you."
"We do have safety tethers for space work," their pilot volunteered. "Clip one to your suit and we can winch you in. They're strong enough we use them to pull heavy freight into the hold. Plenty strong enough to drag you back, but you might consider which side you'd rather have against the ground."
"Yes, but how long? And do you have one for Ha-bob-bob-brie too?" Gordon asked.
"Just one line on the winch, but it's six kilometers long. We can rig a 'Y' on the end to secure both of you easily."
The problem was Gordon couldn't think of a good reason to turn it down. Lee was already looking happier about it, and rejecting any safety advantage sent the wrong message to the crews.
"OK, clip on to us. I want mine on the back. I certainly don't want to be dragged on my face two kilometers.” Ha-bob-bob-brie agreed with that.
Outside the Caterpillars stood to the side towards the smaller building and ignored Gordon and Ha-bob-bob-brie. Gordon was sort of disappointed.
The line was only three millimeters thick and Ha-bob-bob-brie was dragging it too, so it was no burden. When he looked over his shoulder the other were already headed to the lesser building.
Ha-bob-bob-brie was thrilled to be doing one of his specialties, and to be working with the commander too. Repairing spacesuits had been a worthy job. He didn't think Gordon disliked him. But he was aware Lee had sponsored him to assume more responsibility.
Gordon was rambling on about some part of the war Ha-bob-bob-brie knew nothing about. He listened with half an ear but marked it as nervous chatter. Gordon would never admit that, but the huge alien building and knowing the power it must contain and channel to shield a planet intimidated him. Gordon didn't seem to have an intimidation gene. Maybe if he was seven hundred plus kilos with claws like daggers he wouldn't intimidate worth a damn either. They were about half way to the building.
Gordon seemed to be breathing noisily, and he stopped for a second and paused. "You hear something ?" He breathed.
"No, can you describe it?" Ha-bob-bob-brie asked.
"Kind of a hum... no more like a ringing." Gordon looked down and stood still a moment after a few more steps. "I'm kind of sick to my stomach," he said. That was alarming. He was never nauseous.
"Trip your purge valve," Ha-bob-bob-brie urged him. It sounded like hypoxia.
"Nothing," Gordon said. "Don't work."
"We have to turn around," Ha-bob-bob-brie insisted. Gordon just stood head hung ignoring him.
Ha-bob-bob-brie took him by the big middle arm and tried to gently turn him around. Normally he couldn't move Gordon a centimeter, but he took a couple steps off balance at the tug, and turned around falling to his knees. As soon as Gordon turned Ha-bob-bob-brie heard the roar of his purge valve blowing the suit free. Gordon propped himself on his middle arms, staying on his knees. He heard him gasp a few times and he shook his head.
"You need to be dragged back?" the pilot monitoring them asked on com. Gordon ignored him.
"Do you need reeled in?" Ha-bob-bob-brie asked.
"No, just shut up a minute," Gordon said with unusual anger, and stayed still. "I'm trying not to throw up in my suit," He paused again. "If I throw up I'm going to shut my eyes, open my faceplate and hurl," he said. They stayed still like that for a good two minutes. That would be a dangerous stunt.
"Give me another minute," Gordon said. "Then I can start back. Whatever you did bumping me knocked it loose."
Ha-bob-bob-brie didn't think so. There was nothing rough about how he'd turned Gordon.
"If you can walk back I'll press on, gain entry and take pix," Ha-bob-bob-brie offered. Hoping he wasn't stupid enough to try to finish himself.
"OK, but I'll unhook and leave the line on you," Gordon said.
"I'm not the one having difficulties," Ha-bob-bob-brie reasoned.
"Yeah, but I'm fine now and I'll watch my oxy readout all the way back. If it starts going down I'll call for pickup. They can do it if I'm even a little bit closer. You are going deeper into danger."
Ha-bob-bob-brie didn't agree, but he tended to take Gordon's requests as orders. It was part of his culture. It was hard to say no plainly.
"I shall rig it so we can both be accommodated," Ha-bob-bob-brie told him. He pulled on the line until he got the 'Y' connector, unfastened the carabiner and passed the main cable through it, clipped on Gordon's suit anchor instead of clipping on it. He doubled up the 'Y' by attaching both ends to himself.
"There, just return along the cable and take care not to get it tangled as it plays through your ring. If you get in trouble he can pull us in, and when the 'Y' connector gets to you it will drag you right along," Ha-bob-bob-brie said, pleased with himself.
"I'll be fine. But good thinking anyway."
"Thank you. Humor us please, and read off your blood oxygen numbers aloud as you walk back," Ha-bob-bob-brie requested. "If you fall silent or the numbers drop I shall turn around and try to keep up with the winch as it pulls the line in."
"I thought you'd just throw me over your shoulder," Gordon chuckled.
That was a good sign. His higher functions were returning if he could crack funny.
"I'll could send Ernie on his bicycle and you can ride back on the handlebars," Ha-bob-bob-brie quipped. That would be a vision. Video of Ernie on his bike had been widely shared on the fleet net.
"Here we go... " Gordon said, and got back to his feet. He held one arm across his chest to avoid binding the line and staggered off. Getting back to a normal gait in just a few steps.
"Ninety-five," Gordon said. That was a bit low. Derf ran higher than Humans but below Hinth. Ha-bob-bob-brie watched for a moment to be sure he didn't fall on his face, and then turned and continued. "Ninety-five still," Gordon said in Ha-bob-bob-brie's helmet speakers in a minute. It was reassuring.
Chapter 18
"That's it," the embarrassed suit technician said, and dropped a twelve millimeter ball into Gordon's palm. It was mirror finish, round to within a thousandth of a millimeter, and magnetic. "Facing the building the intense field wouldn't let it seat. It tripped an error condition and a system fail. Facing away from the building it was pulled to the seat in its normal state and was OK.
"It's part of the regulator assembly. A check valve in the circuit that switches between recycling and make-up supply. It's buried in a brass valve assembly and not called out in the materials list."
"Thank you. I know you've been up all night tearing it apart. Take a double shift break and get some rest. Do personal recreation if you've a mind to," Gordon said.
"I am ready for some bunk time. Thank you, sir." He looked almost like he wanted to salute and restrained himself and exited the bridge without delay. He was relieved the commander didn't dress him down for almost killing him. He didn't need to be chewed out. He felt terrible already.
* * *
"It looks to be a match to the other machine," Gordon agreed, looking at Ha-bob-bob-brie's pix.
"I hope it was worth almost killing yourself to find out what we'd already figured out?" Lee said.
"Absolutely," Gordon said with no remorse. "As much as I deride the ivory tower sorts, this thing is going to take some serious talent to figure out. We weren't able to find any plain garden variety academics to come along before, if they had to dirty their hands. We had nothing specific to offer them but a long ride into the unknown.
"This kind of a mystery will pull in the sort who are the real deal. People who want to know what makes things tick because it drives them nuts not to know. Not the sort who think about tenure, coeds, insurance and a good parking spot before they care about what they will research. If we just assumed they were related, and hadn't looked, most of them would have wasted all their energy arguing whether the opposite buildings were even related instead of just coming to see. Having the proof it is a single-world sized system just baits the hook to get the level of talent this demands."
"And you won't demand that sort of person wash dishes and change filters for the ride?" Lee asked.
"I'd lease a luxury liner to bring anybody smart enough to hand me the principles of that machine out to look at it in comfort," Gordon assured her. "A trillion dollars Ceres for a liner and two armed escorts for a year would be a cheap investment for knowing whatever powers those things."
"We have a few billion to account by now." Lee thought about it a second. "Maybe a few hundred billion by now even," But the two of us together don't have a Trillion. Yet."
"We will after we file all the claims on this trip," Gordon said. "And a billion doesn't buy what it used to," he reminded her.
She couldn't argue with that.
"We found some more junk in the little building," Lee told him.
"I read that. But no organic remains?" Gordon asked.
"No, but Doc Ellis is going to try to recover some DNA from the suit interior. Assuming they use DNA or something close to it." Talker looked at her with that crease between his eyes he got when he was thinking too hard, but he didn't say anything.
"I know that look. What are you worried about," Lee demanded.
"Not worried. Just unaware and curious about human customs with names," Talker said.
"The Fargoers have some strange ones," Lee admitted.
"Their names that have meaning or express a hope resonate with Badgers very well. I was just wondering if Doctor Ellis and Mr. Ellis, Jeremiah, on the Retribution are family?"
"I never bothered to ask," Lee told him. "They might not know or particularly care if it was generations back. Humans with the same surname are very common. In some countries like China you might find a million people with the same family name."
"There's entirely too many of them," Thor complained to Talker.
"Ellises?" Talker asked.
"Humans."
"Didn't they get DNA from the leg?" Gordon asked, back on subject, and wanting to shut Thor up.
"Yeah, but like you said about assuming stuff, he wouldn't assume the obvious fact they were used by the same people if they had sequential serial numbers engraved on them!" Lee said.
"You do understand then," Gordon said, satisfied. "You wouldn't have understood those personality quirks a year ago."
"I understand them OK, but I don't like them. When you said I had to learn how to deal with people and Human societies you didn't tell me it was going to drive me nuts. They're infuriating. And the Derf aren't much better," she complained.
"It would have been kind of cruel to dump that on you when you had so much else with which to deal. Don't you think? Really, are the Badgers any better?" Gordon asked. "You spent some time with them and seem to have been charmed by them."
"Talker is OK," She thought about it and seemed surprised at her own conclusions. "His dad and his farm foreman were nice. Nobody treated me bad. Nothing like Earth. But Badger society? It needs some tweaks," she assured Gordon, making a little adjusting twist with her fingers. "But that's another project for later."
Thankfully Talker didn't hear that chilling assessment.
* * *
They left a claims marker around the world, unaware how that looked to the Badgers and Bills. To their mind the buildings and a running machine that could shield a whole world were a marker all their own. Maybe it was a natural disaster and not a hostile action that dropped an asteroid on the planet, but how would it look?
If it was a cosmic accident, might not a race that could build such a machine still lay claim to the planet? Even if it sat abandoned a few thousand years? Might not a race that could build such a machine plan on as grand a time scale? It worried them. As for the Caterpillars, who knew if they had any idea what the satellite left behind signified?
Talker broached the subject with Lee. "If the Centaurs should return to find their world marked by your claims satellite might they not take it poorly?"
"It would appear it has been ignored some thousands of years. Maybe many thousands of years. Let me tell you about when we presented our claim to Providence to the Commission on Earth. There was a lady at the hearing who asked if there wasn't some intelligence who might own the world. Apparently it is a regular occurrence for her to object to any expansion because of such a risk.
"The fellow doing the announcement detailed that there was no sign of a sapient. No agriculture. No vessels on the seas, much less the air or heavens. No smoke or structures. There wasn't even as much as a road that wasn't a game trail from wild animals, but he assured her that every claimant and those that paid to have land and other assets did so at the risk of losing it all if such a owner should appear.
"If somebody shows up and says they built the machines and it's their world by right of improvement then we'd yield it to them without argument."
"That's reassuring," Talker said. "If that happens I hope they take the time to talk and allow you to withdraw."
"Why wouldn't they?" Lee asked.
"They might assume you are the ones who dropped the asteroid," Talker said.
That disturbed Lee enough she discussed it with Gordon, but as Lee had already told Talker, you'd have to stay home and never risk claiming anything to avoid such a risk.
* * *
The next system to which they jumped had no unusual radar returns. In fact it had a scarcity of asteroids. It had a rocky planet very close to the sun and a hothouse planet just like Venus. As unlikely as the inner planet was, they sent the Sharp Claws to make a close pass just because it was one jump from the system with mining and the world shielding machine. It was a baked bare rock.
The gas giants were far out and small. Which fit with the general lack of a lot of material in the system. Gordon had Brownie pick a target star beyond and they were accelerating at their usual easy pace for jump even before the last radar echoes from the far fringes of the system returned.
* * *
"Doc Ellis says there are bits and pieces of the same proteins in the empty suit as he found in the leg samples," Lee read off the screen to Gordon. He limited how much he got into the net when he was sitting in command mode.
"So they are the same species of aliens," Gordon said. He didn't make it a question.
"He admitted it's probable," Lee said.
"He wouldn't admit Thor and I are related without running a genotype," Gordon said.
"Neither would I," Thor said, giving him a squinty eyed look.
"I was out of your sight a few times. A couple days on New Japan. I might be a shape-shifting monster that ate Gordon and absorbed all his memories," Gordon theorized, playing along.
"You have shapeshifter legends on Derfhome?" Jon Burris asked from the master com console.
"Not really," Gordon said, embarrassed. "I got that reading trashy Earth books."
"If the monster knows and remembers everything Gordon did, what is the difference to me if you have different genes now, but treat me exactly the same?" Lee asked.
"None at all, until some night it decides to slither in your bunk and absorb you too," Gordon said, in a really creepy voice.
"That's terrible. You gave me goose bumps all over," Lee protested, rubbing her arms.
Ha-bob-bob-brie leaned closer and observed. "Interesting. But feathers would be much nicer."
They jumped out without further incident.
* * *
"Clean sky. Everybody is here. Ping the system?" Brownie asked Gordon.
"Yeah, looks like nobody is home. Do it."
After a moment Brownie spoke again. "I doubt it is coincidence, but the Caterpillars jumped with us. That would mean they've deciphered enough of our chatter to understand time units and numbers."
"How close?" Gordon asked.
"To the second within fourteen places. Tight enough to jump in close formation with us."
"I hope they don't take up doing that uninvited," Gordon said.
"Jumping out of sync would be as dangerous for them as us," Brownie pointed out. "They aren't stupid and I wouldn't be surprised if their clocks are a digit or two better than ours."
"So they must know our numbers, spoken and binary, and 'yes'. Why aren't they talking to us or at least trying harder to so?" Thor asked.
"We are trying," Talker assured him. He seemed upset. He was still on the High Hopes just for the purpose of pushing forward translation with the Caterpillars. The bridge was crowded in fact with two riding in jump seats.
"No criticism implied," Thor said. "Or at least them, not you." Talker just nodded at that.
"Maybe they have a thing about error," Ha-bob-bob-brie said in a rare suggestion.
"What kind of a thing?" Thor asked.
"It's an occasional mental illness among my people to have an abhorrence of any error. They fear it so much they are locked in indecision and can't function. It usually shows up very early in an individual when they are first learning to count. They count over and over, never confident of their answer."
"That sounds very much like what we call obsessive compulsive," Jon Burris told him.
"Do such ones count also?" Ha-bob-bob-brie asked.
"Yes, I don't know if they count over uncertainty, but they will count steps to a familiar destination, or touch and count each post of a fence along which they pass. You understand fences?" Jon asked.
"The Hinth understand fences," Ha-bob-bob-brie assured him. They might not read it on his face, but there was amusement in his voice.
"Be sure to inform Vigilant about the Caterpillars syncing with us in his written shift instructions," Gordon ordered Brownie. "We'll do the normal offset to see behind the star then you can pick a target to go on to. Talk to me if there's any conflict or interesting choices.”
"Aye, initiating a group change of course to do the usual dogleg," Brownie acknowledged. "I'll check the stars for targets when we come back on shift. Notice the Caterpillar is still not running ahead. I think th... "
"What do you think, Brownie?" Thor teased at the sudden cut off.
Brownie did something odd. He cut the bridge out of the command link. Gordon sometimes did that to discuss something privately but other hardly ever did so. That got their attention.
"I thought I saw a deep entry burst. But it isn't. Or it's atypical. It appears to have happened right when our radar wave front reached the same point, and I don't believe in coincidences. The spectrum looks more like emissions from a jump, but that's crazy," Brownie protested. "I'm going to look at the recording again."
They let him view it again. Even Thor abstained from wisecracking.
"There! I'm not going crazy," Brownie said. "There was a radar return off the same spot as the jump emissions. It jumped out eighteen seconds after we painted it with our radar."
"You think somebody jumped early because we pinged them?" Gordon asked frowning. "That would be really stupid to take a lower probability jump just because they know we saw them. If they had anywhere near enough velocity to jump they could have waited a bit until they had full jump velocity and gone out safe. We'd have never caught them if they had a head start, and we saw them already so what did they gain?"
"No, you don't understand. I'm not saying it well, because it's not normal at all and I'm rattled. The vessel was small. Maybe forty meters long, although I don't think it was full broadside to us. It might be semi-stealthy because it didn't give us a strong return at all. That's unusual with what the Retribution puts out. But it wasn't up to any velocity at all. The radar showed it at pretty much at system rest. It jumped out but I have no idea what vector even. It just disappeared from a standstill."
Nobody said anything.
"Go ahead. Tell me it's impossible," Brownie challenged.
"Impossible is for damn fools who can't believe their lying eyes," Lee said.
"Have any of the other ships asked about it or commented on it?" Thor asked.
"No, I think they all pretty much let us do the system scan and don't put eyes on it if their own radar isn't active, unless we are giving orders to maneuver," Brownie said. "Even Retribution's radar is just slaved to my board when we use it and they don't need a person sitting running it."
"Then don't say anything," Gordon decided.
"We shall have to change some assumptions," Ha-bob-bob-brie said simply.
"I agree, but I know plenty, even most people will say 'impossible' just like Brownie challenged us." Gordon said. "They'll say it was an artifact of the software or we're trying to do some kind of scam. Do what you want, because we are not a military organization to classify information. I won't order it, but I'm not going to report this in any official way as part of the Little Fleet. I'll privately tell the Mothers and business associates who I'm sure respect me. But the Claims Commission or public in general? We'd just get mocked."
"I'm absolutely certain you are correct," Jon Burris on coms said. "Have you ever read anything about UFOs?”
"I am aware Earth Humans have a history of seeing unexplained things in the sky they took to be vessels of some sort," Gordon told him. "Derf never had a history of such things. Not that we didn't see odd phenomena from time to time, but Derf either attributed it to gods or nature."
"Human denial can be pretty stubborn," Jon said. "Scientists denied rocks could fall from the sky clear into the seventeenth century. Even when a fall of them broke roof tiles all over town. The French imposed such a rigid scientific orthodoxy on the matter that other nations threw their meteorites in their museums away rather than argue with the experts. But seeing things they took to be aircraft of some sort didn't really pick up until they had their own aircraft. I've read on it a bit, It really took off around the time of World War II and right after."
"You mean the First Atomic War," Gordon said.
"Yes, but they didn't call it that until much later. There were certain types of UFOs that repeated, cigar shaped or night lights, but for a short period most of them were very consistently disk shaped," Jon said. "So they came to be commonly called flying saucers."
"Since you have an interest, enough to have researched it, what is your opinion?" Gordon asked.
"I think there's a pretty good chance Earth was surveyed briefly,” Jon said.
"But, they didn't try to communicate?" Lee asked.
"Would we?" Jon asked. "There was fighting everywhere. There were aircraft and the Germans had ballistic missiles and jets and a sort of cruise missile. At the end the Americans had atomic weapons, even if they were crude and small. We didn't land for a lot less trouble with the Bunnies. They just had a military of sorts with firearms and that deterred us. Remember what Canny McDonald told us? He said any ground force he could land to try to secure the Bunnies' world could be overrun with spears and bows and arrows he'd be so outnumbered. So who in their right mind would want to land in the chaos of a global war that had millions of men fighting with airplanes and tanks and long range artillery?"
"Could you explain why people kept seeing UFOs if the initial survey was over and the aliens went away? Why didn't the sightings stop?" Thor asked him.
"Once people have adapted a meme they apply it to things they wouldn't have before, and by then there were a lot more objects in the air, and in near space, to explain away. At least some of the things called UFOs after the war were Human aircraft. Some of them were secret military aircraft so those sightings wouldn't be confirmed as a known aircraft. Some were satellites and some were just hoaxes. People enjoy fooling others. Especially since people who saw UFOs were regarded as crazy it was fair game to play them for fools. Tossing dinnerware in the air to photograph was amusing."
"That's not a terribly attractive quality of our species," Lee lamented.
"If it makes you feel any better, I think the Bills are even more childish about their so-called humor," Talker told her.
"Great, something where we're happy to be number two," Jon said, drolly.
"How do you want me to say this in the log and shift change report?" Brownie asked, uncertain.
"Vigilant always speaks to me except the rare times I go off the bridge early," Gordon said. "I'll speak to him privately and tell him to run the radar and sensor data to see the radar return and exit flash and how they relate. No reason to make a log entry detailing what is after all our private conjecture."
"Yes sir. I like that," Brownie agreed, nodding. "It gives us room to maneuver later. You notice, the Caterpillars didn't ping the system themselves. So they didn't see what cause that jump burst. They must know what entry radiation looks like, but not a peep out of them. I wonder if they are reading our data sharing from the Retribution though, and if they've seen this sort of thing before?”
"Maybe they're wondering the same thing about us," Lee said.
Ha-bob-bob-brie made a really odd sound they'd never heard before. They all looked at him but he was inarticulate. Then they realized, he was laughing.
* * *
Lee and Talker tried a new message to the Caterpillars. They sent a grid of sixteen squares. Nine would have been more elegant, but they needed the extra spaces to separate items. With nine there was no way to show if an adjacent item was weighed towards the one corner or the other.
In the top left corner was the original Little Fleet with an image of Derfhome. They had no way to show that was the start square, but intended to make that their convention. The Caterpillars weren't stupid. They'd pick up on it later if not now.
In the top right corner was an image of their present fleet including the alien add-ons beside an image of the Badger world Far Away. In the square under it was a small image of a Biter ship tucked in the top left corner of its own square. Clearly excluded by choice.
The bottom right corner held an image of the Caterpillar ship and the world the Caterpillars had taken The Champion William to see. The enemy ship that had attacked the Caterpillars was displayed to the left square from that corner, made small in its square just as the Biters ship was. It hopefully would show the same relationship.
Continuing clockwise the bottom left corner showed the Caterpillar ship and the expanded Little Fleet all together with the image of Derfhome. If they continued with them that's what would happen.
After much thought they put an image of Earth not clockwise from that final image but on the next square towards the center on the diagonal. The Caterpillars following them on to Earth seemed possible, but the fleet would break up at Derfhome, ships going here and there.
"I hope sixteen squares isn't too much," Lee worried.
"I hope sixteen is enough," Talker countered.
Chapter 19
Hoót-hoöt-hôôt's fine tentacles rippled in surprise. The aliens went from nine squares to sixteen in one step. That was a linguistic leap equivalent to a human's development from five years old to ten or so. It was an admirable audacity to grasp for so much at once. Hoót-hoöt-hôôt commonly used a grid of sixty-four on a side to comment on such things as the quality of supper or his opinion of a subordinate’s usefulness, or lack of any utility at all.
People who had a great deal to say, or thought they did and just enjoyed hearing themselves talk, made statements of a hundred and forty four squares. That was about the limit of the Caterpillars visual acuity. Even then the subject matter in each square needed to be simple or one had to examine the more complex squares and integrate the detail mentally.
Being able to read a larger grid and grasp the gestalt mentally was the mark of an adult and a person of letters. Those that couldn't read a grid of a hundred and forty four squares were regarded by other Caterpillars the same way Humans would label one of theirs as a bit simple.
Breaking something down into a number of smaller grids was the equivalent of popularization or a how-to book for Dummies. There were poems and books on the arts, both decorative and practical, of five hundred and seventy six squares. There was a definitive history of the species from their beginning on the home world until they occupied nine planets which filled two thousand three hundred and four squares.
The Caterpillar who defined space and time in terms that allowed for star travel wrote a Theory of Everything which filled four thousand ninety-six squares with no blanks. Few people claimed to be able to grasp the sum of it, and Hoót-hoöt-hôôt wasn't sure he believed the ones who did. Simplified forms of it broken down into a collection of smaller grids abounded and a few more were written each generation. The snobs assured the lesser intellects that they didn't impart the full essence of the theory.
There were alternative forms intended to be both profound and whimsical which did such things as leave the corner squares off or open a void of squares within. During one mad period of decadence before the expansion into space an author had published a work of four thousand ninety-six blank squares and received acclaim from a number of morally defective academics. The verbal form of that was of course – silence. A critic published the simplified edition of one blank square, and it was accepted by the masses as a perfect jab. The literary professionals didn't get the joke.
Hoót-hoöt-hôôt thought the new message was a bit more interesting but the added complexity made it even more ambiguous. Was it a plain notification or an invitation? They had interpreted the previous message as an invitation to accompany this group to the surface. They hadn't been chased away so that was probably correct.
A few of the Caterpillars were overcome with caution after seeing the alien's weapons. But he'd been among those heading off that school of thought. If they'd been hostile they had plenty of chances to act like that other race with small ships who attacked without need. The fact that the this group, although at some level of conflict with that beaked race, didn't just wipe them out on sight really spoke to their patience. Perhaps they had banged those vermin on the head a few times recently and were giving the lesson time to be shared among their kin.
He was pretty sure this new message wasn't a dis-invitation to continue with them, but not sure enough to put forth his own translation before letting his peers come to their conclusions. Real consensus was important, and his reputation would suffer if he rushed ahead of it. So he passed it on.
Hoót-hoöt-hôôt wondered why they sent this message and no comment at all about the strange burst of exit radiation? Surely they detected it, but nothing in the message acknowledged it. Nothing they did suggested they had such a capability either. They ran to a jump at velocity too. It seemed like deliberately ignoring the egg eating dragon in the nesting room. Could it be they knew who had created it?
* * *
The far edges of the system returned no surprises when their radar returned few images to them. By the time they saw most of it they were late in the run to jump and cycled through an alternate crew shift and returned the prime crew to the bridge. They set the acceleration moderate as usual and timed to take the prime crew off shift an hour into the next system.
Once again they ran through that system and five more in quick succession with nothing worth stopping to examine or claim. They fueled two stops back and could have done another short jump, but everybody was tired and this system had a gas giant positioned for easy access from their entry angle.
Gordon declared a stop to fuel and grant two rest and recreation days. The Badgers had no problem with that. The senior Bill, Captain Twin on the Deep Space Explorer Green, however called Gordon. He still hadn't found out if the man was really a twin. If he was, what did they call his brother?
"How am I to maintain discipline when we stand idle with nothing to do?" Twin complained.
"That's why we stop. To take a break from constant duty," Gordon explained patiently. Why was this such a difficult concept he wondered, but refrained from saying it.
"How can you get back to normal operations afterward?" The Bill captain asked. For the first time Gordon say some signs of facial expression on the Bill. A hard bill after all wasn't all that mobile like lips, but when he didn't quite close it on the last statement it seemed to have the same meaning as a Human's mouth hanging open in shock or dismay. Derf tended to the opposite, clamping their mouths shut hard.
"Perhaps I don't understand," Gordon admitted. "Do you keep your crews on the ship permanently once they sign on? Are they... " He wanted to say enslaved, but decided that was too strong a word. "Indentured? Do they never get leave time to visit home or to go on worlds or stations when the ship makes port calls?"
"No! Of course not, that is ridiculous," Twin said, unaware how thin the ice was, taking that tone with Gordon. "But we don't have leave on ship, which is what this is basically. There is no precedence."
Gordon ground his teeth and refrained from telling him the entire Little Fleet doing it was plenty of precedence. Instead he said: "Well, I'd be happy to stop at the next planet we see with some nice resorts, fine beaches and maybe a casino or two," Gordon offered. "We'll enjoy fine dining and maybe take in a few shows and have some drinks in the evening. Did I miss noticing such a place and zip right past it?"
The poor Bill just stared at him uncomprehending. Did they understand sarcasm? That was interesting. They did have a narrow little tongue in there. He could tell because the fellow’s mouth was hanging wide open. Then it snapped shut.
"Your people report back to their duties on time and ready to work again?" Twin asked.
"Yes, we give them a day off and a day to recover. If they get so wasted they can't recover in a day they have a serious problem. If we had somebody so lacking in self discipline they can't drag their butt to work ready to go I might not hear about it. My captains don't bother me with every detail of their operations." Take a hint there, Gordon thought... "But I'm sure such a person would be disciplined."
"The translation program said something weird," Twin said.
"It's far from perfect yet," Gordon agreed.
"It said discipline, but applied self as an adjective. Discipline is from without," Twin asserted.
"Perhaps that is the problem," Gordon said, and he looked over at Talker. Yep, the Badger had those little dimples on his muzzle whiskers and the slight smile at the corners of his mouth. He was amused and about to bust himself holding it in.
"We expect our people, at least our adults, to regulate themselves. We don't rouse them out in the morning or make them go lights out and sleep at a certain hour. We just expect them to be at duty stations ready to work when they are scheduled."
"I see..." Twin looked different. Shocked? Maybe offended. "I thank you. I have one more question and then I'll consider how to apply all this, which is a change for us. How do you... apply discipline, when a crewman doesn't step up and do this self discipline you expect?"
"With Humans and Derf I'd expect they'd have a stern talk if it was a minor infraction. Thor here can put the fear of Gordon in them with a sweet little talk that intimates they don't want a talk with me. We only have four Hinth, and only three work. I have no idea what motivates them. You have to tell them to stop working and go eat or take their off shift time. They are obsessive about work.
Gordon shrugged. "If I had to deal with a miscreant directly I'd give them a month of filter duty or wiping down the corridors and work spaces by hand. That should focus their attention in the future. If they didn't learn or gave me any, uh, backtalk I'd fine them." He'd almost said lip, which wouldn't do talking to a Bill. He somehow doubted they said – Don't give me any bill.
"Oh really?" Apparently that appealed to the Bill. "What sort of a fine?"
"Oh, I'd probably nick them a million bucks Ceres from their shares and bonuses. Anything less this bunch wouldn't care about. We made some pretty good finds and claims on the way out to you folks, so they're too flush to notice a little fine. That's about twice your weight of silver," Gordon explained. "I don't know your customs well, nor the Badgers for that matter." He refrained from saying the Badgers didn't have any trouble taking a break. Indeed they seemed capable of some serious partying. "But you can adapt and apply your own standards to recreation and reporting back to duty from it."
"I will," Captain Twin vowed. Thank you for the instruction," he said and dropped the call.
Gordon looked over at Talker and gave him his best evil face, exaggerated in case the alien had trouble reading it. "Speak. I can tell you are about to bust a gut holding in your amusement."
"It is entertaining, watching someone else have the joy of dealing with the Bills," Talker admitted.
"I'm so pleased I could brighten your day. Now would you care to explain what that was all about and where Captain Twin and I are not understanding each other?" Gordon asked. He made missing motions with his true hands passing each other to make the point clear.
"You will think me horribly prejudiced," Talker said, but was still smiling. "The Bills will drive you insane trying to get them to do anything on time. Or for that matter to follow the terms of a contract. If you try to do business on a Bill world you can tell them to show up at sunrise. They will start showing up about mid-morning and almost all of them will have reported by mid-day and lunch time. They have no concept of responsibility."
"That's cultural, not racial," Gordon insisted.
"Perhaps, but even if it is cultural it is so ingrained the Captain didn't find the phrase self discipline made any sense trying to translate it into Bill. The concept really is alien to him. I suspect he was hoping you'd tell him to discipline any laggards by turning the rest of the crew loose on him to inflict physical punishment. Public beating with a light stick is not unknown on their worlds. I'd love to know what would happen if a Bill was raised from infancy by Badgers. Or you folks for that matter. Would they be more civilized and understand regulating one's self, or is it a real genetic failing?"
"Or a Badger raised by Bills," Gordon suggested.
"Now that would define child abuse,” Talker insisted.
* * *
The stop came to an end with everyone refreshed. Gordon heard no more from the Bill captain about difficulties regulating his crew. Nobody was too hungover to work, at least on the High Hopes, and there were no injuries. Gordon took that for a win. They started a run for a new system. They'd switch shifts as usual and be back on the bridge for jump. When they came back on Lee and Talker had news.
* * *
"We have a break-through," Lee reported. "The Caterpillars are trying to tell us something in the form of a matrix message."
"Well, I'd started to wonder if they would stay silent until one day they'd suddenly start to speak English perfectly, because they wouldn't accept anything less," Gordon said.
"We sent two messages of our own," Lee reminded him. "They never acknowledged the first one, but they seem to have understood it well enough to go down to the Plate Builders' world with us. I really doubt they would have done so without the message. This message from them is definitely a reply though, because it incorporates things from our second message."
"Do you understand it?" Thor asked. Showing an unusual level of interest.
"Talker has some ideas... " Lee allowed. "Let him tell you."
"Do you not agree with him then?" Thor pressed before they could explain.
"I think he might have the right of it. I can't see any other meaning myself," Lee admitted.
"Show us," Gordon invited Talker, meaning the bridge.
"It is thirty-two squares to an edge. They seem to have picked up on our convention of starting from the top left and going clockwise. The start square shows the Little Fleet departing Derfhome. Then it's all blank squares across the top to the right corner.
"The top right square has the Badgers' world, Far Away, and the expanded fleet and the Caterpillars. Then it's blank squares again, all the way down."
"I thought it would be turtles, all the way down," Thor muttered. But he waved it away when Talker looked at him askance, rather than explain.
"At the bottom right corner is our image of Derfhome with the Caterpillar still with us. Then the oddest thing. They put the image of Earth in the last corner. No ships in it either. What do you think of it?" Talker asked.
"I thought you were going to tell us," Gordon said.
"Lee knows my thoughts on it. So I can't change it based on what you say. I'd like to hear your opinions before I prejudice you," Talker requested.
"Are we going to have to do a secret ballot thing?" Thor asked. He didn't sound happy about it.
"Nah, just speak up," Gordon said. "None of us are afraid of contradicting each other." For some reason he seemed to be looking straight at Thor when he said that.
"Then it's a question," Thor said confidently.
"A precise numerical question," Ho-bib-bob-brie said, it being unusual for him to speak up.
"And I'm looking up the answer," Brownie said, working the manual keyboard. Now that was confidence.
"You're good," Lee told them. "We argued about it for a good half hour. You all seem to have it in seconds. I'm glad I don't have stupid friends."
"From Derfhome to the star before Far Away was thirty seven jumps. We didn't go straight in. We took a round-about five jump offset to hide what direction we'd come from. But if we'd gone straight in it would have been thirty eight jumps. So you need to put a little star in thirty-seven boxes between Derfhome and Far Away to tell the Caterpillars how far we came. We're not sure how many we'll do going back. So I don't know what you'll want to tell them about that," Brownie admitted.
"Better to leave them blank than guess," Thor said.
"Yeah, I'm not sure how to say we're going a different route and don't know," Talker said. "That's a little complicated for us to express at this point."
"If I may... " Ha-bob-bob-brie offered. "Put a star in two boxes running towards the center of the grid on a diagonal. Then a single star down. Leave the squares under that blank – indefinite – and terminate it with a single star in the same column and two more diagonal stars leading into the bottom right corner square that shows us back at Derfhome. It graphically depicts a loop of indefinite length."
"Perfectly," Lee said, awed.
"And how many jumps from Derfhome to Earth?" Talker asked.
"The fast way a courier might go is nine jumps, a few of which are a stretch for a slow ship. The way a freighter or a passenger liner usually goes is twelve jumps, and two refuelings. The few who do fourteen are doing it because they want the extra stops, not from any necessity. I'd split it and show ten stars straight along the edge to the Earth square. No need to confuse them trying to show alternate routes," Brownie suggested.
"Ha-bob-bob-brie, I'm awarding you an extra crew share for that idea," Gordon said.
"I thank you. May I gift a portion of it to another?" Ha-bob-bob-brie asked.
"Of course. Your entire payout will be unencumbered and you can do as you please with all of it. Blow it all on an epic port celebration that will live in the history books or give it all to charity," Gordon said, with a wave of his hand. "None of our business what you spend it on."
"Then I wish to give the half of my extra share to Talker. I feel he is undercompensated for the effort he has put in to our benefit, which is far beyond his duty to his government. I feel a decorative bowl no matter how unique and lovely is not enough reward. Besides, he'd never sell it."
Gordon was relieved, because he had been thinking the same thing, but worried it could create a problem of jealousy in the other Badgers and Bills no matter how justified it was by his help. He felt just a twinge of guilt because he hadn't simply done the same out of his own rather generous share.
"Are you sure?" Talker asked. "I mean, thank you, but don't want to leave you short years from now when you retire, and resenting me for accepting it."
"Can somebody explain for Talker how much a crew share looks to be worth, in terms he'll understand?" Ha-bob-bob-brie asked. "Does anybody know Badger money or how much it is worth?"
"I think I can," Lee said. "Talker, you know the Ceres dollars? The ones that weigh fifty grams of fine silver?"
"Yes, I know those. That was one of the three coins you gave my father," Talker remembered.
"Well a crewman's half share isn't really easy determined until we register all our finds and the Claims Commission solicits bids and starts to pay money into your account. But given the claims we have I'll give you a conservative estimate. Within a few weeks you will have several million dollars Ceres easily. In a year a hundred million or so. In the range of say, five to ten years you will be a billionaire," Lee assured him. "Ha-bob-bob-brie will never have to worry about the bare necessities of life if he only had a tenth share to his name, but he'll have at least a share and a half."
"Indeed, I should add, I wasn't broke when I joined this voyage," Ha-bob-bob-brie said. "I served on several successful voyages of exploration before I retired. I had income. You do not impoverish me."
That was interesting. He'd never spoken of his situation to Lee, just their mutual loss of shipmates.
Talker looked shocked. "I can buy an estate," he said, flabbergasted. "While I am young even. Cash money is in short supply among Badgers and it will buy a great deal on the raw frontier."
"If you want an estate," Lee said. "I have land if I want to build and develop it. But I'm going to make sure my estate doesn't tie me down and own me. Given my experience with planets I value owning a ship much more than land."
"I can understand that, in the abstract, but the drive to own land has been held out as the ideal to me all my life. I feel it. It's a really basic drive of our whole culture. It would take a huge change to dull that desire at all," Talker admitted.
"Well, give it a try," Ha-bob-bob-brie suggested. "Get it out of your system and if you get tired of it or it doesn't turn out to be everything you expected, I imagine you can always sell it."
"You have no idea how Badgers think if you can imagine selling an estate. They'd probably declare me insane. I've never heard of it being done in modern times."
"Not to break up this amusing love fest, but if everybody is happy with this reply to the Caterpillars can we send the damn thing," Thor grumbled.
Lee and Talker looked at each other. There really wasn't anything to improve.
"Do it," they said in unison.
* * *
"I'd never say it that way," Hoot-hoót- hº ºt said, not trying to hide his disapproval.
"Neither would I, yesterday," Hoót-hoöt-hôôt agreed. "But it's perfectly clear and precise, isn't it? They are going back a different unknown route and have no idea exactly how many stars they will visit. Tell me any other way to read it. It leaves no ambiguity and would be a good statement for a navigator. I've seen much worse technical writing. So elegant you had no idea what it was saying."
"Yes, it has a certain unconventional elegance," Hoot-hoót- hº ºt agreed. "It just breaks, convention, so it is upsetting. It is so blunt it jars."
"Ha! They don't know convention. Perhaps there strange folk will be good for us. Maybe a few people too set in their ways will benefit from being upset."
"I wonder which of those strange races wrote this – thing?" Hoot-hoót- hº ºt said. "Do they have as much trouble speaking with each other? Surely not."
"Well we know the affirmative sound. And they almost know how to build a word. We'll get there eventually. We need to acquire their negative sound and we need to get them to build a matrix from the opposite corner instead of like a brain damaged grub. Any suggestions how?"
* * *
"Oh my God... They are correcting our grammar," Lee wailed.
"Well that's good," Talker insisted. I'd be happy to learn how to speak to them better. I didn't expect our first few efforts would be that good. Why so upset?"
"I loved my mother," Lee said defensively.
"I'm sure you did. I'm sure that is normal in most sapient species," Talker said, as kindly as possible, but it seemed a complete non sequitur to him.
"She taught me so much," Lee said, "But sometimes she was more... diligent than seemed necessary to never allow any error of speech."
"Ah, and you resented that?" Talker asked her.
"On... occasion. We'd be sharing some thought or just working, happy with each other, and then she'd correct something I said and it ruined the moment. Sometimes I'd repeat things I heard my father say and she'd correct that. When I was older I pointed she didn't correct them when he said them. She just said you don't correct your mate if you want a happy marriage. It made me feel – slighted. I had a hard time with that."
Talker nodded, a gesture he'd grown very comfortable using. "I understand a little. It's always a little harder in a non-consensual relationship. She had a choice to be with your father. You didn't have a choice to be with them."
"That sounds so ungrateful," Lee said.
"It's just a fact," Talker said. "It's not to say it was all bad, to allow that maybe bits here and there weren't perfect. I'm sure Tish has been unhappy with me on occasion. I don't have to guess. She's told me a time or two. But that doesn't mean we don't miss each other with me away so long."
"At least you have a big family," Lee said. "She wasn’t waiting alone for you."
"You have a big family too," Talker said, and Lee cracked up laughing.
"OK, I didn't mean that to be funny," Talker said, slightly confused.
"Oh... My Derf relatives. I thought you were making a joke on Gordon's size," Lee admitted.
"That's OK. I'm glad I could make you laugh. May I ask how they corrected our grammar without upsetting you all over again?" Talker asked.
"Yes, I'm over it, but I do appreciate your talking to me. The big thing is they showed the same sequence we used but started in the opposite corner. They still go clockwise. They didn't change any of the images though. That surprises me," Lee said.
"If I were them, I wouldn't confuse it at this stage by making more than one change,” Talker said. "The images may not be perfect, but by only making one change they made sure we got the point. It's encouraging really. We had nothing for so long."
"And we still can't talk well enough to order a decent pizza," Thor grumped.
"Oh Thor," Lee said, still a little giddy from unburdening herself. "You can only order squares."
* * *
The stars blinked and reconfigured late in their shift. Brownie listened and declared it quiet. They pinged it with radar. The new star was unremarkable. The system, however, was unusual. There were two frozen planets out where gas giants would usually be. Neither were big. They were more like typical inner system rocky planets. One was technically a water world, but they wouldn't be leaving a claim marker for it or celebrating it with a blue voyage ring. It was an ice world. There might be something behind the star but they didn't have much hope for anything exciting or profitable.
"It's kind of creepy to be so empty," Jon Burris finally said.
"Yeah, let Ernie know we have an oddball system for him to study. Maybe he'll have some theory what could have happened to make it so different," Gordon said.
"Maybe it just never formed planets at the very start," Brownie guessed.
"Perhaps something passed through and perturbed the planets," Thor suggested. "Another star passing close or a free giant planet without a star."
"Or some aliens needed the material for something and mined the system for the mass," Lee said.
"I'm not comfortable with that idea," Gordon said, after a silence where they all thought about it.
"It seemed like a possibility," Lee said, defensively.
"Oh it could be true," Gordon admitted. "I'm still not comfortable with it."
"Amen," said Thor, who was not notably religious.
"Aliens who have fast kilometer-long ships are bad enough," Jon Burris agreed. "We're not ready for somebody who moves planets around or disassembles them."
"I sort of figured we would get to that point," Lee said. "Maybe not real soon, but I can imagine it. If you can imagine it the rest is engineering."
"Sometimes, you people do scare me," Talker admitted, in a small voice.
What was there to say to that? They stopped talking and were glad the other shift came on in a few minutes.
Chapter 20
"I'd like to try making a message with the corrections they showed us, but I'm not sure what we need to say," Lee told Talker. "I mean... there's all kinds of things we need to say, but I'm not sure what is within our ability yet. Showing them a travel itinerary is kind of hard to expand into anything real abstract. Gordon apparently taught them 'yes' but I'm not even sure how to teach them 'no'. I had a lot more success with you guys because I could do hands and fingers. I can't do tentacles."
"I think you are imagining barriers that aren't that important," Talker said. "You know Luke and his assistants went back to their other duties? They made the excuse we have the 3D setup here. But the truth was they sent a lot of different images and voice to the Caterpillars and didn't make any headway. They got absolutely zero response from the Caterpillars. And Gordon didn't argue with them at all. We may not be chatting like you and I do, but we at least got a response from just a couple messages."
Gordon raised an eyebrow at his name, but declined to get involved.
"OK, when we were first tried to talk with you guys, what worked that we could do with the Caterpillars? Did you see our transmissions? Were you in the loop back on Far Away?"
"I wasn't at first, but when I knew I was going to go meet you on the station I reviewed the recordings. Not just the accumulated vocabulary but how we got the first words. I was particularly amused and enjoyed watching when you cut a sandwich up on camera," Talker said.
"I'm not sure the caterpillars would know what a sandwich was if they saw one," Lee said.
"You're getting hung up on the differences again. You had no idea if we ate sandwiches when you started disassembling them and cutting them into fractions. You weren't afraid to do it because we're so similar. A Badger like me is so like you it's easy to fool yourself into thinking he's just a Human in a furry suit and a funny nose."
"You do eat sandwiches. I saw them," Lee protested.
"That's not the point. You didn't know that at the time. But the language lesson still worked. It would have worked with a block of clay, which I doubt you have on a ship. Do you have something else semi-solid and homogenous aboard that can be cut in chunks?" Talker asked.
"Tofu," Thor supplied, distastefully. He'd been following the conversation.
Talker paused to look it up on the web fraction, and frowned. "It doesn't look very appetizing in the illustration. Maybe it's a poor photograph," he decided.
"I don't consider it food," Thor told him, "but you could cut it to demonstrate division. Maybe you've found an actual use for it."
"Even if they don't have hands and fingers, they still need to learn the words for them," Talker told Lee. "After all, we have words for their body parts. And we'll need their words too, of course."
"All right. I'm seeing it. I assume Luke tried sending pictures of a hand or doing something with his hand in video. So I still need to find a way to put it in a matrix."
"OK, that's our next goal then," Talker agreed.
* * *
The next system was binary with a faint companion around a bigger star. It also had a complex of satellites around a brown dwarf orbiting both stars, just like they'd found on the way out. It was great to find another, but having both the Badgers and Bills along worried Gordon. This was definitely within the cone of space aimed back at the regions of Human space they intended to cede. But would that hold up when they saw how rich the system was with the wealth of metals? Humans and Derf both had had wars across borders in their histories over resources.
After arranging for the fleet to take up station near the brown dwarf Gordon called Ernie Goddard in for a private consultation in his cabin. Ernie arrived looking like he was going to his own hanging, but relaxed when Gordon invited him to share lunch and got his private supply of Fargone rum out.
"Can you establish from our data how this system relates to the other brown dwarf systems?" Gordon asked. "If there is a line or arch we can find other such treasure troves along it would be of great benefit."
"I'll plot a 3D model of it for you. But you realize this will be one point widely separated from the others. You don't like to make detours, but if you could do a loop to either side and find another brown dwarf cluster it would establish it with much more certainty. Would you consider sending somebody on a loop between us and the other systems we found on our outbound leg?" Ernie asked.
"Perhaps. I was more interested in establishing if a line of them continued outside our territorial cone, out into the space we agreed with the Badgers would be open to everybody," Gordon said.
"Are you regretting they gave away too much too easily when they came to that agreement?" Ernie asked, alarmed. "It's the whole basis of their expectations in coming back with us. I realize I am very junior to you, but I'd think long and hard before doing anything that makes them think you'd try to get them to repudiate it. At the very least discuss it with your Mother and the Fargone Spox privately."
"No Ernie," Gordon said, a little hurt. "You think badly of me too easily. I'm worried about the opposite, that it may appear we got all the prime sources of metals between us and if their civilizations want any, they will have to repudiate it or war with us. As far as being junior, I've always welcomed advice and initiative from the crews."
"Oh good, and I thank you," Ernie said, relieved, "but even if they wanted to, the Badgers and all their friends couldn't start to wage war on us.
"Today," Gordon said, stabbing a finger on the lunch table between them. "Twenty years or a hundred in the future? We don't know. Do you imagine Humans thought Derf could ever wage war on them when they found us, planet bound, and much less a threat than these folk are right now? No, it's the future I'm worried about. I'd like them to know for a certainty that they aren't bargaining foolishly to impoverish themselves."
"Ah... well then, loop away from our claims and see what is in a line leading off into neutral space," Ernie agreed. "Perhaps even invite them to send the Dart to do so."
"Make the chart and I'll do exactly that," Gordon vowed. "I'll even slow up and let the Sharp Claws escort them if they want to do a fast reconnoiter and catch up to us. After all they don't have to survey it in detail. Just establish the system type and claim it."
"I'll have Brownie help me," Ernie agreed. "His navigation skills are more applicable to this than my puttering around with surveys where all the work is done for you."
"I'll tell him right now to help you before we want to leave this system. We might as well survey it while you two are researching it. I might like to speak with the ranking Badgers and Bills before we move on. And telling the Third Mum and the Spox what I'm doing is a good idea too," Gordon agreed.
* * *
"The Caterpillars have to know our binary numbers or they wouldn't have learned to follow Brownie’s signal for synchronization and his countdown to jump," Lee said. Nobody challenged that.
"First thing we are going to do in the next transmission is relate binary numbers to Arabic numbers and the spoken word in English. We want to limit the size, so for this first one we are doing a grid twelve by twelve."
Talker picked it up... "If they are half as bright as we think they will see the system and respond with a similar grid. We're going to transmit the grid with zero in the first square, and an audio file for zero. Then the grid with one in the second square and the audio file, continuing all the way around each number in turn. Both binary and Arabic symbols in both. Any comments?"
"Why don't you put a small square like an actual object in each square starting at one?" Thor said. "Then two squares, etc, etc... "
Lee and Talker looked at each other.
"I don't see why not," Talker allowed. Lee nodded agreement.
"I don't think you should put binary and Arabic both in the same transmission," Ha-bob-bob-brie said. "It may confuse them. Especially when the same symbols are used in both.
"What Ha-bob-bob-brie said," Thor seconded. Brownie agreed too.
"OK, just binary then. We'll teach them Arabic numerals in a later message," Lee said.
"Who did you pick for the audio file?" Gordon asked.
"Uh, me, because I may still sit and do the block cutting thing again," Lee explained.
"Yes the wave forms should match consistently," Talker agreed.
"That makes sense," Gordon allowed.
"Anything else?" Lee asked like she was afraid there might be. But no, they were done.
"We'll send it then, as soon as Talker takes the Arabic out and puts the squares in."
* * *
"Jon set me a conference call with all the captains and the political reps for everybody, both fleet and aliens," Gordon said.
It amused Talker that Derf, Humans and Hin were all 'fleet' and Badgers and Bills were still alien. He had every confidence if they signed up as crew on the next voyage of exploration he'd been told was already being planned, then they'd become 'fleet' too. It made trusting these strange folk a lot easier. They had less prejudice between species frankly than in his own group.
Gordon had given his third clan Mother and the Fargone Spox a private heads up, and questioned the crew of the Sharp Claws, but he was going to present it to all of them as if it was fresh now.
"You may be aware we found two stellar systems on our outbound journey that had brown dwarfs in them like the one we just entered," Gordon said addressing the conference. "If the information on it hasn't been of interest to you it is in the public files of our fleet net. We consider them significant finds and left claim markers on them. The systems are exceedingly rich in heavy metals. To the point we expect them to alter the economies of all our associated worlds.
"Ernie Goddard and others of our crew developed a theory of brown dwarf formation that anticipates they may be found along a line or arch. Now, three points, two of which are close together, are insufficient to predict an exact line to explore along which we may find another. However it does give us an approximate vector along which there is a higher probability of making such a find. I'm sending you a plot of the three stars and their relationship to examine.
"Since we are not that far within the cone of territorial sovereignty you are considering ceding, it is likely that there are brown dwarf systems in a line leading from our previous discoveries through this system off into neutral space.
"If you'd care to send the Dart to make a fast check of the first three or four systems along that line I'd be willing to hold the fleet here to do a thorough survey of this system while you look. It would give you a significant asset to offset your expenses in coming along with us. Perhaps it would justify it back home, as well as showing it is worth continuing to expand despite any problems the Biters have given you in continuing to do so.
"One problem is that we think such systems may have been mined by the race who we have been calling the Plate Builders. So you might be more likely encounter them in those systems. They displayed such aggressive behavior to the Caterpillars you may be reluctant to send an unarmed, slower ship to look for such a system. With that in mind I asked the crew of the Sharp Claws if they would volunteer to provide escort for you, if you go, and they agreed.
"If you accept the offer we intend to send The Champion William in the opposite direction, towards our previous line of travel, to see if they can find any more brown dwarf systems between here and our previous finds. We intend to simply mark any such finds without an extensive and time consuming survey.
"You can consult with each other and I'd appreciate your coming to a decision by two shift changes from now, so we can get on with surveying this star system and know what resources we'll have and what is leaving."
"Commander Gordon, no need to wait for an answer. It's within my authority to command this since the Dart is a Badger vessel. I agree to this offer right now."
"I didn't know for sure you stood between me and the captains," Gordon said. "Any other problems to resolve before we wrap this up as a done deal?"
"Yes, I'm concerned such a find would be a property of the Badgers only," the Captain Twin of the Deep Space Explorer Green spoke up. "Your civilization has an arrangement that benefits all factions, but we have no such thing in place. If you give such a prize to the Badgers alone it will be destabilizing and damage your relationship with the Bills and other races of our association unrepresented in this hastily assembled expedition. I urge you to make this side expedition open to Bills, and guarantee some access to the other races not present or it will leave the Badgers dominating our commerce. It might even lead to the sort of conflicts we all avoided before the Biters found us."
"War is what you mean plainly," Gordon said, and the threat didn't please him. "This is a problem that arises to some degree from your own politics. When we arrived at Far Away we spoke with everyone. But nobody would commit to trading with us. We almost came to the point of leaving without any trade agreement. We did exactly that with another race we found, so believe we will do it. That was the point we were at, ready to leave, when we finally asked the Badgers if they would trade with us rather than continuing to try to reach agreements with everyone. We had no idea you had all privately agreed not to seek such an exclusive pact unless we offered it. That is what we were told after offering a trading pact to the Badgers. Did they lie to us?" Gordon asked the Bill captain directly.
"No... Even with translation it is a simple enough matter I'm sure that captures the essence of the situation accurately," Twin allowed.
"Why?" Gordon asked.
"That may be too general a question to translate well," the Bill captain said. He looked down, not wanting to make eye contact.
"Or it's just plain uncomfortable for you to honestly discuss motives," Gordon said. "Let me tell you how it looked to me, and if you want to protest I have a dark and suspicious mind I really don't care. You are free to so without penalty. All of you could have come to an agreement with us, but as long as any of you thought you might get the advantage over the others you kept stringing us along and avoiding an agreement that would benefit everyone. It just happened that the Badgers put more effort into talking with us, or were better at it, and then they simply out-waited you.
"Given that you were each seeking your own advantage, perhaps past the point of reasonableness, I have little sympathy now, since you are just sorry you didn't get the trade agreement and exclude them. Now you'd like us to correct the results of your collective actions? No, I have no authority to impose solutions on your group.
"But this offer isn't part of our trade agreement with the Badgers. We have all kinds of trades in plants and materials and technology with them, but this voyage back with us is a separate political accommodation. Our Faraway Spox and my Third Mother arranged it for the purpose of establishing a relationship for the entities they represent. If you buy weapons or other things visiting our worlds they won't be under our trade agreement with the Badgers either. We certainly have no agreement to find real estate for anybody but us on the way back. I was offering that freely as a gift, and can set the terms or withdraw it. I thought it was a kindness, not a blow to the stability of your entire civilization.
"But that being the case, can you two agree to share anything you find out there in an equitable manner? Including the lesser species that have less access to space than you? If you can't I'll just leave you to your own devices. You can mount competing expeditions from home later when it becomes possible. And protect yourselves from kilometer long plate ships or other hazards.
"Make up your minds now, because I'm not feeling very charitable at the moment," Gordon said.
"I have no problem at all promising to come to an agreement with the Bills on sharing," Talker said. "We shall also see benefits or actual access flow to the minor races."
"I too will pledge to reach an agreement," Captain Twin said. In my case I am commander and Spox both of necessity, since we had much less of an official presence at Far Away. Does this mean Green will accompany them?"
"No, the Green is too slow. That's why I'm sending our destroyer and not a DSE. You, or better yet, somebody you pick, can go on the Dart and see to your interests." Gordon fixed Talker with a gaze lacking any patience at all. "Your courier can accommodate him aboard, can't they?"
"Certainly, a few supplies transferred over and no problem. Bills have gone on our ships many times. We're familiar what to do," Talker agreed. Both of them looked a little shell shocked.
"Then do so and inform Captain Frost when you are ready to depart. Any other questions?" Gordon asked, leaning forward aggressively and showing a smile that was toothy and not at all pleasant. In fact he visibly ground his fangs a bit in irritation.
"No sir," Twin said quickly. Talker just shook his head no in the Human manner.
"Fine, then I'm off shift and we are done," Gordon said closing the conference. "Thor you have the conn to dismiss the shift. I suggest you have the alternate shift set a short watch while we are orbiting. I'll be in my cabin." He left without looking at Talker.
It was a bit past shift end, but Vigilant's crew was not hanging around the bridge entry waiting to chit-chat at the change-over. They had undoubtedly made the short retreat to the mess after hearing the exchange at the end. They wanted to be out of Gordon's sight and attention.
Thor waited until Gordon was well away, and unlikely to pop back in. He looked at Lee, amused.
"People think I'm a terror and Gordon is the easygoing one. I love it when they abuse his patience until he knocks heads together. I think that's the first time I've ever heard a Bill say 'sir'.
"One will not forget the lesson," Talker promised, rattled. "I never want him to smile at me again."
"Well yeah," Lee agreed. "I'm sure you'll find it easier to negotiate with the Bills than Gordon."
"Is that what we were doing?" Talker asked in horror. "It didn't feel like it."
* * *
"Yes! They understand," Talker said.
The square grid the Caterpillars sent back was bigger, and continued the series of numbers, skipping ahead to fifty and then each multiple of ten until it reached a hundred and then had a new symbol in that square.
"Even without Arabic numbers they perceived we count in tens," Lee said.
"I think now is it is appropriate to send the same series with Arabic symbols out to a hundred," Talker suggested.
"Yes, I agree, and after that a series of hundreds and thousands," Lee said.
"Once we have math we can do yes and no," Talker said. "We can do problems and mark the ones done correctly yes and the wrong answers no.”
Lee laughed delighted. "Yes, and then we'll worry about 'maybe'. Of course when we get back all the experts are going to tell us we did everything wrong."
"Do you think so? I still don't know your culture well enough to predict such things, but I've found a work-around until such a time as I do."
"You have?" Lee asked suspiciously. Statements like that from Gordon or Thor were usually lead-ins to a zinger. Often to see if they could suck her into credulous statements. They justified it as a form of continuing instruction for her.
"Yes," Talker said, seeming serious. "If I can't see if something is likely or not I simply pose it to a few Fargoers as a possible bet, and observe what kind of odds they offer me."
"Don't they get upset if you don't actually go ahead and bet on it then?" Lee wondered.
"Heavens no. Once they are engaged with the question they usually bet among themselves both ways with different odds. It shocked me at first to see a person without personal conviction on a matter would bet both ways at different odds. But I've come to understand it. I just sit back and observe what the consensus is."
Lee thought about it awhile. The only drawback she could see was that it only sampled Fargoers. They might have strongly different opinions than Derf or Earth Humans. She kept that to herself.
* * *
The system was every bit as rich in minerals as the others they'd found, if different in minor ways. There were two moons of the brown dwarf large enough to have substantial atmospheres. One large moon was between the size of Earth and Mars, but had near Earth gravity on its surface.
It had extremely high levels of heavier metals and a core kept roiled from gravitational interaction with the brown dwarf. Its active volcanoes spread radioactive materials both locally and as ash. Besides the solids this venting meant the atmosphere had levels of radon that would require constant positive pressure of any structures for mining, to avoid polonium contamination from the infiltrating noble gas.
When the Dart and Sharp Claws left the system the Caterpillars hurried to accompany them, cutting off Talker and Lee's efforts to communicate. They worked ahead getting material ready, expecting they'd return. They were long gone by the time The Champion William left, so they didn't have to choose which to follow.
The freighter Cash Only, with a mostly Badger crew volunteered to do some reconnaissance. They were along simply to carry supplies for the other ships since they weren't designed for such a long voyage. They had food for Bills and Badgers, medical supplies, and enough of everything for no more than six of the aliens to stay behind in Human dominated space if their ships went home.
They had to be bored out of their minds orbiting in a far system with nothing to do. Once Brownie determined they had cameras and radar sufficient to be useful they were sent to map some minor moons.
Luke, freed from duties as interpreter, was back at data processing, compiling data from different ships system, even alien systems, in a uniform format. Then the organized archives were distributed through the fleet so that the loss of a ship wouldn't include a catastrophic data loss.
The computer gave him a ping to examine an anomaly on the airless moon the freighter mapped. That happened several times an hour when it was processing a lot of images. Luke usually glanced at them and knew in three or four seconds if the image in question was a natural phenomena or could possibly be an artifact.
This one wasn't so easy. There was a dark circle that might be a crater, but it had no rim thrown up, and it was too small to have a center peak. Luke queried the computer to examine the radar image at the same location since even the depth was uncertain in visible light. It was shallow but the form was uneven. The bottom was too flat and there was a line which suggested a ramp spiraling around two turns from the bottom to the top. He attached his doubts and views to the images and forwarded it to the command queue.
Gordon didn't concern himself with every detail. Thor examined and edited them ruthlessly, but Lee being short on duties often scanned the long list of messages that underlings felt merited the highest attention. When she read the short summary header it sounded like cover-your-butt by Luke, but the images spoke to her. There were small three bumps sticking up instead of down beside the pit. They were spaced with suspicious regularity. That could have been random, but the fact they were right where the possible ramp reached the top was too much of a coincidence. She showed Gordon
"Mmmm... " Gordon grunted. "Send somebody who isn't super busy to look."
There wasn't anything they couldn't supervise from that location, so Brownie made the shift to the moonlet of interest and they sent down Ha-bob-bob-brie and Ames from engineering.
Chapter 21
Ha-bob-bob-brie cautioned his assistant Ames to photograph ahead of them before he stepped on a soft surface. There wasn't a lot of loose soil on this airless moon. Nothing like the regolith on the Human moon for example, but enough he could already see tracks here and there that had to be from a surface transport of some kind. He wasn't sure if it had been wheeled or belt tracked yet. He'd have to find a place it turned or at least changed direction sharply to be sure.
The three piles of gravel were the nexus of the tracks. It didn't take long to find a set of tracks that terminated abruptly without much repetition beside two depressions from landing pads from a spacecraft. It was easy to infer a third sat where it was hard rock. The pads were a good sixty meters apart, indicating it was no little craft. The tracks down into the pit were spaced wide enough it was obvious there wasn't more than one vehicle using the ramp at a time. There wasn't room to pass and no wider places to pull off. Ha-bob-bob-brie decided there had only been one vehicle.
The pit was a bit less than six hundred meters across and less than two hundred deep. Ha-bob-bob-brie had no desire to walk the long ramp all the way to the bottom in his pressure suit. They had no motorized transport so he hoped nobody would ask them to do so. He'd much rather examine where most of the activity had obviously happened, up at the top.
A quick analysis by laser vaporization showed the material being mined was elemental copper. It was alloyed with a little silver, a bit less gold and a couple tenths of a percent other material. The three piles of rubble were of discarded rocky material with little metal content. It would undoubtedly be considered rich ore somewhere else, but not on this site with so much native metal.
"Why three piles?" Ames asked aloud. "They are all about the same size. Why not one?" They were about nine meters high, but the slope angle on them seemed shallow for the gravity.
That was a good question. Ha-bob-bob-brie thought on it a bit but didn't volunteer a theory quickly. People remember when you are wrong more than right, he'd found, so he'd learned to keep his own counsel instead of advancing one idea after another. Some felt that worked to draw ideas from a group. Brainstorming they called it. However, Ha-bob-bob-brie didn't feel like diminishing his stature to enhance the group.
"Let us examine carefully around each heap," Ha-bob-bob-brie said to Ames. He was in command so it wasn't a suggestion. It was in fact the first time he's had clear authority over a Human or Derf. If he had any doubt Gordon lacked species prejudice before, this eliminated such a thought.
"Ask Luke to do a high definition analysis of the shape of these mounds, please. Are they round or do they have a shape? And if they do, does it have a symmetry?" Ha-bob-bob-brie asked.
Ames was a little irked he was asked to relay a question, but stifled it. Ha-bob-bob-brie spoke English well enough. Asking the same question twice just took twice as much time, and introduced another opportunity for error. The truth was Ha-bob-bob-brie was from a culture in which a leader never communicated directly if they had an underling to do it for them.
It was both a status thing and to a Hin the proper way to signal everything was in control and he was happy with his workers. Ha-bob-bob-brie did it automatically, without needing to even think about it as a natural Hin style of command.
The fact Gordon communicated through Brownie often also seemed perfectly natural to him. The fact Gordon spoke directly to the heads of the Badger and Bill delegations the other way was also to be expected. With the Hin when the big boss takes time to speak to you it's time to listen up, because it isn't routine. You may assume he is fixing something that displeases him. Those two seemed to get the message quite clearly. A Hin would have felt the same apprehension those two showed at the end, as soon as Gordon showed up on the screen.
There were some lines and dents between the end of the tracks and the piles. The termination of the tracks had a turn around that indicated it was a wheeled vehicle to Ha-bob-bob-brie also. There might have been some sort of mill positioned there to remove the less desirable portions that were the mounds. They were standing right past the wheel tracks, looking at the near mound. The edge started about forty meters away and climbed to a peak of maybe ten or twelve meters, not as far away as the edge.
Ha-bob-bob-brie stood patiently waiting for the report and looking around until Ames had the data.
"Luke says the mounds all have the same shape," Ames reported. "The one in front of us has a little shallower slope and spreads, fanning out slightly on the back. The front is narrower, almost a perfect semi-circle and has a slightly steeper sloop. There is also a short ridge on top from front to back."
"Very well. The machine that removed less productive material tossed the rejects away to get rid of them instead of using something like a conveyor belt," Ha-bob-bob-brie decided.
"And three of them because that's as far as it could toss it, and they had to move before it got close enough to be a hazard if the front face collapsed?" Ames asked.
"Probably not. We'll have to visit at least the next one before I'm sure," Ha-bob-bob-brie said, starting the walk to do that. It was a pretty good hike with the added burden of a pressure suit. Was that a sigh Ames let sneak out on his radio?
Ha-bob-bob-brie just pointed. It was an another obvious landing pad depression. The only visible one by this mound so they were fortunate to have found it. Or at least Ames counted himself fortunate they wouldn't need to walk clear to the next mound.
"Each mound is a trip for the ship," Ha-bob-bob-brie finally felt free to declare. "They came and took copper three times.
Ames looked at the pit and the amount of material in the mounds. "That's one hell of a lot of metal to lift in three loads. I know the spread on the landing pads suggests a big ship, but I'm not sure even a Caterpillar ship could haul that much mass."
"Look at the gravitational manipulation the Caterpillars do. And even the Badgers for that matter, although I understand their tech was serendipity instead of from theory. They might not have carried it internally." Ha-bob-bob-brie frowned and thought on it a moment. "Or this might have been their shuttle and carried it to a ship too big to land comfortably," he speculated against his custom.
They both stood silent for a moment thinking about that. The Caterpillar ship might hangar a ship that big if it were not over long in proportion to the base. Neither expressed it.
"I believe that is sufficient," Ha-bob-bob-brie decided. "Let's walk back along the wheel tracks to the top of the pit ramp and then return to our vessel.”
Ames didn't argue.
Ha-bob-bob-brie walked looking at the pattern of tread in the dusty soil. It struck him there was no wear to the pattern. Every piece of heavy machinery he's ever seen had little cuts and notches in the tread of their tires no matter how tough. You could tell the diameter of the tire by finding such an imperfection and watching for it to repeat. Not these tracks.
In one of the blocky depressions there was a straight line. Ha-bob-bob-brie stopped and picked at it with a finger. Ames kept walking at first before he noticed Ha-bob-bob-brie was stopped.
When Ames turned around he asked: "Got something?"
"No," Ha-bob-bob-brie lied. He'd already got a pretty good look at it. He compounded his deception by poking at the dirt with the object like it was a tool and not a find. "A rock that had a bit of a straight line to it, until you see more of it and it's a chance shape."
"Yeah, just like you can see shapes on the orbital pix that have lines or triangles or even polygons sometimes, but when you look from a different angle it disappears," Ames said, turning away to resume walking.
Ha-bob-bob-brie slid the find in a pocket, itching to look at it closer but restraining himself. Ames might turn his head and catch him out for some reason. He wanted to make this part of his report privately. He wasn't going to trust it to the fleet net no matter what the restrictions on it.
* * *
Gordon and the bridge crew had the electronic version of his report before he returned. When he boarded the High Hopes again, it was the off shift for the main crew with most sleeping, and they were on short watches once they were in orbit again anyway. He was tired and acclimated to their shift, so he got some rest while he could. The was no urgency to his discovery.
Ha-bob-bob-brie joined them in the mess the start of the next shift. Thor was doing the abbreviated watch with somebody pulled from crew. He hadn't bothered to check the duty postings to see who. Gordon, Lee, Brownie and Jon Burris were all there elbow to elbow, as well as Luke, who was not bridge crew. Luke was finished and just leaving, which was perfect.
Ha-bob-bob-brie waited while the steward replaced the coffee and brought baskets of some items served in common. Once he left Ha-bob-bob-brie reached across and laid his discover on the table between Gordon and Lee.
"I found that pressed into the soil in the tire tracks on site. I'm afraid I was rather duplicitous with Mr. Ames," Ha-bob-bob-brie admitted. "I wasn't sure this was something of which you'd want our new allies to be aware. Perhaps not even some of your old allies. So I didn't mention it in my formal report. We can edit it if that's not your will," Ha-bob-bob-brie offered.
"No, I think that was wisdom," Gordon agreed. He was holding it, and he and Lee were both leaning heads together over it examining it. He let go for Lee to continue looking at it.
"You did a fine job examining the site otherwise too," Gordon praised Ha-bob-bob-brie.
Lee passed it to Brownie on her other side and he was waiting for his turn. The cylinder was about thirty millimeters in diameter and a hundred and fifty long plus an end cap. Comfortable for a Human wearing a suit, but a bit small for Derf. It was labeled 'Wright's Sure Vacuum Marker' in an slick embossed script. Below in smaller letters it said 'Bright Yellow – Armstrong L.R.' and was textured where the letters were not raised.
"Why would anyone come this far, actually mine, and not leave a claims satellite?" Brownie asked.
"They didn't think anybody would get here for years?" Lee guessed.
"Or they went really, really deep years ago and are living outside the claims system," Gordon said.
"You mean they are independent and don't have any commerce or contact with Earth or our associated worlds anymore?" Brownie asked.
"It seems possible," Gordon said.
"Are you going to leave a claims marker then?" Lee asked.
"Yes," Gordon said, with little hesitation. "This isn't an alien species who know nothing about our law and system. All they would have to do is post a sign at the pit that it is owned and I'd refrain from trying to claim anything. Even aside from the Claims Commission and their rules and limits. But they show no interest in ownership at all. We have no indication they simply didn't take what they want and have moved on. Maybe they did this along the way and have gone so deep we'll never see or hear of them again."
"That would be seriously anti-social," Jon Burris said. He finally was getting a turn to look at the marker. He scrunched up his face at a sudden thought and looked up at them. "This is an accident," he declared waving the marker. "Somebody dropped it and had no idea. Otherwise the site is cleaned up to remove any indication that Humans were here. That's not normal. Humans litter everywhere they go. That shouts to me that they aren't coming back. I agree with Gordon they have no interest in ownership. Even less than the Centaurs or whoever built the radar reflectors and then never returned. They at least thought they might want to find those rocks again, but I have formed the firm opinion that they will date out much older than we suspect."
"We don't know the thought processes of the reflector builders. But these are your fellow humans," Ha-bob-bob-brie told Jon. “If you think they deliberately hid their presence and have no claim I accept your assessment and understanding of your own kind."
"We're agreed then," Lee said. "Let them show up and argue the point if they want the system after failing to claim it. If they can show they have a different legal system, with a valid ownership rule different than ours, I'll talk with them about it."
"Sounds reasonable to me. I'll tell Thor privately about this," Gordon said, putting the marker in his belt pouch. "We'll keep this verbal, and strictly between the members of the bridge crew," he ordered, and that closed the subject. That made two secrets the bridge crew shared.
* * *
The Caterpillar ship returned alone at the end of the week. Nobody got too worried about that since they were so much faster. The Dart and Sharp Claws returned a day and a half late, but with news they had a brown dwarf system located due to help from the Caterpillars.
"We jumped through five systems," Captain Frost related, "hurrying a bit, and fueled up at the last meaning to come back. The Caterpillars however did a slow motion run to jump while we were fueling and then aborted it and returned to us. There was only one star along that heading clearly in jump range, so it was obvious they were leading us.
"We followed to a unremarkable system, but the Caterpillars took a new heading and went on, throttled back to a pace we could follow. We were already into their lead for one jump, so I decided to follow for at least one more. The next system was a close binary, not at all like this, it had two small stars very close to each other and a brown dwarf orbiting the pair. It's just like all of them though with a complex of satellites around the dwarf. We didn't land on anything but I'd assume the makeup of the system is similar to the others. The Badgers and Bills are thrilled.
"The Caterpillars led us back by an alternate route or we'd have been another day late. As it was we did most of our runs at a G and a six tenths, with a couple hours lower acceleration to let the cooks make sandwiches and distribute box meals so they didn't have to risk working heavy."
"As you can see, The Champion William isn't back yet, so we haven't been waiting for you to move on," Gordon said.
"Is there any concern about that?" Frost asked. "Do you want someone to check on her?"
Gordon considered it briefly. "I don't think so. We have yet to find anything from which even the DSE couldn't protect itself."
When they returned in another day they were excited. They'd reached a turn-around point like the others, but less than a light year beyond they could detect a system of three brown dwarfs all loosely coupled to each other. So close to the star they ended their trip with, that they might very well be attached to it if they were not moving too fast. That would have to be studied in the future. It was too difficult to jump to three minor masses so far apart. It would have required study for the optimum aim point, refueling and then again when they exited, but it was possible to do so with a manned ship instead of a drone.
The Deep Space Explorer had good enough instrumentation to see a couple large bodies around two of the dwarfs, so it was likely a rich system like the others they'd found.
"Well, it looks like whatever other challenges our civilizations face, lack of metals won't be one in our future," Thor said.
"Yes, but what we are going to need now is a drone that can survive scooping fuel from a hot brown dwarf instead of a cold gas giant," Lee decided. They just all looked at her amazed at the casualness of her audacity. Their engineering wasn't anywhere near ready to tackle that task.
"Right... you can start throwing money at it when we get back," Thor said, tongue in cheek, but Lee just nodded agreement and refused to take it sarcastically. Ha-bob-bob-brie look at the exchange bright eyed and interested, but didn't defend his mistress. In his estimation she didn't need it.
* * *
"We're past the halfway point back and will angle back into the cone of ceded territory now," Gordon explained to the entire fleet. "We may deviate for something of interest, but we will keep correcting towards a line aimed at home now.
"Since we have filled in a few more data points it seems unlikely we will find any more brown dwarf systems. Of course we are always interested in living worlds, water worlds or systems with potential for fuel depots. Having accomplished so much we intend to try to make time more than before. I'm leaving our run to jump acceleration at seven tenths of a G. That has proved easy on personnel and equipment.
"However we will not brake and examine some systems we would have on our outbound leg. We'll pass on through retaining velocity as much as practical when we vector around a star and choose a new target. If any of the captains feel we are missing an opportunity rushing through any system present your case early on when we've emerged, so we can consider it.
"Any questions?" Gordon asked, and waited a just a couple seconds for any response. "Then Brownie will be setting a new target and sharing the movement data."
* * *
Two shifts later they were on the jump shift and running smoothly. Nobody had any problems and the star ahead was big enough and close enough to be an easy jump even without any information on its velocity or companions.
"I hear you chatting with Talker about the Caterpillars," Gordon mentioned to Lee when his duties didn't require his close attention. "Are you making any progress?"
"We have the numbers, yes, no and are working on maybe," Lee said. They have the audio files for the name of each species. They may hate me for it later, but they have the Human usage instead of what each of them calls themselves. We're having enough trouble teaching them English, and I have no desire to try to simultaneously teach them Hin, Derf or Badger. Eventually we will need to teach them Trade. But by the time that happens I hope somebody else has taken over."
"Any progress on understanding Caterpillar?" Thor asked.
"No. Caterpillar is much more complicated than any of our languages. We have recordings of their audio response that is yes and no. It isn't just HOOT! –ess and HOOT! –noo. The hoot is subtly different depending on the context in which it is used," Lee said, a bit of despair in her voice.
"The more I try to talk to the Caterpillars the more I am amazed how much Lee and I think alike," Talker said. "It's easier for me to talk to Humans and Derf in English than to talk to Bills I've been dealing with my entire life. It's to the point now I can usually guess what a new word means from context before I look it up. I have no idea if that is true of Hin, since I only have Ha-bob-bob-brie for a sample and he isn't very chatty even with English."
"Better to be stingy with your words," Ha-bob-bob-brie told him. "Once you say them, they fly away beyond recall, and you must live with the results forever, for good or bad," he counseled.
"That all makes perfect sense to me," Talker agreed. "But it doesn't move things along. Ha-bob-bob-brie, was English difficult for you? Is it more or less complicated than Hin?"
"English is easy for simple things," Ha-bob-bob-brie said. "It is a good language for unambiguous instruction or engineering formula. It is however an extremely difficult language in which to be eloquent. I would despair of every composing poetry with it. I know Humans have what they regard as poetry, but it isn't subtle. It is least subtle when it has to rhyme to even be recognized as poetry. Now free verse or a haiku, those can display some beauty."
"Perhaps you would like another Human language better," Lee guessed.
"Perhaps," Ha-bob-bob-brie agreed. "But why did English dominate if others have merit?"
"Maybe because it isn't subtle," Jon Burris surprised them by speaking up. "If an Englishman damns you to hell you don't have to wonder if that's what he really meant. You can feel the flames licking your toes."
"And Mr. Burris destroys my point with a marvelous illustration," Ha-bob-bob-brie said, laughing again. "I admit I could never have composed that statement."
"Your graphic explanation of our returning on an alternative route was wonderful," Talker allowed. "If you have other suggestions please don't be stingy with them. You may get the sense of how the Caterpillars think better than we do."
"It's a bit late to be asking that," Lee told him sharply.
"Why is that" Talker asked, surprised.
"It's the early bird that gets the worm," Lee said smiling.
The groans could be heard all the way back to engineering.
* * *
The fleet proceeded through five star systems in rapid succession. There wasn't anything worth slowing down for. They stopped in a system with a gas giant on the opposite side of the star which could be reached with a moderate course change. A few people asked about a rest day, but Gordon felt it was too soon. The Caterpillars took a dip into the atmosphere, they assumed to refuel.
Talker and Lee established the word ‘hand’ with the Caterpillars. ‘Tentacles’ proved more difficult than they anticipated. The Caterpillars seemed to have trouble with a general term for the variety of tentacles they possessed. They returned a flood of information that made clear they couldn't think of their larger manipulating tentacles and the abundance of smaller ones as one general thing.
When Thor was his usual grumpy self about that Lee pointed out they would all have a hard time agreeing that thumbs should be included under the umbrella term of fingers.
They also established the word and usage for star. Lee hoped when they got to planet and moon there wouldn't be any problem with that division.
The system after their fueling stop they simply had to investigate, despite Gordon's increasing desire to press on and get back home. The star had a world on the near side that displayed evidence not only of water but organics – life. They were heavy on fuel so they braked hard to intercept its orbit instead of doing a leisurely braking loop around the star.
The world had water, but not in any abundance. It had an extreme climate, not because of an exaggerated orbit or heavy tilt to its axis. Just the opposite. It had a relatively circular orbit and somewhat less than a six degree tilt to its axis. There were no extremes of season and it was hot. The poles stayed at 45°C to 50°C and it got hotter as you went toward the equator. There was plant life as far as 30 degrees from the pole a few places, but spotty. And the two polar regions were visibly different.
The one end had a purple pigment dominating in the vegetation and the other pole had a burgundy color. If there was any exchange of living things across the vast desert covering most of the planet it was rare or long ago. There wasn't any evidence of civilization. They hadn't expected any. There were a few small bodies of open water near the poles, but not the salt lakes you might expect from the climate.
The planet was full of active storms racing around the middle, some of them a sickly yellow of dust. They carried water to the poles and the few river beds carried the periodic downpours away from the poles. If there had been any intelligence those rivers would likely have been dammed. Gordon intended to claim the system and sent the Sharp Claws to do a superficial system survey while the rest of them investigated the world.
Gordon asked if anybody wished to name the world, and there was no rush of suggestions. Jon Burris cautiously asked if anybody would object to Janus. That's how it was cataloged.
"Wouldn't it be cool if a world like this a sentient species at each end and they didn't know about each other until they invented radio or got to where they could make a vehicle that could cross to the other pole?" Lee imagined.
"That would probably have to be an airplane of some sort," Jon Burris decided. "I can't imagine anything like a treaded tank that could cross that much land. Maybe if it was nuclear powered and pulling a supply train. But an airplane would be above the heat at high enough altitude. Above the weather too with sufficient altitude."
"I'd think that such a race would develop land based vehicles to venture into the hot zone for such things as mining," Thor said. "And cooling systems of course."
"It sounds like a good story to write as speculative fiction," Talker told Lee. "You should start a file on it and add material when an idea pops into your head. Perhaps write the story of the explorer who wants to go see the other pole and his friends and family think he is crazy."
"I don't think I have enough imagination to do that," Lee said embarrassed.
"Says the young lady who expects us to move planets around soon," Talker remembered.
"Well yeah," Lee said. "You're talking about that weird empty system. How hard is it to imagine it if it appears somebody else has already done it? And once you can imagine it... the rest is engineering."
Talker looked to Gordon and then Thor to refute that. They just smiled at him, amused. They had more experience being around Humans, and Lee in particular.
"As soon as Lee knows how to move a planet... watch out," Thor told him. "It won't be long before she wants Gordon to steal one for her."
Gordon just lifted an eyebrow and didn't refute it.
* * *
The photosynthesis reaction was different at opposite ends of the planet. Gordon had shuttles from different ships touch down at each pole and made clear that once a shuttle had been to one it could not visit the other. He was concerned they would inadvertently carry something detrimental over from one side to the other.
The shuttle from the High Hopes visited what they regarded as the north end since it had the same rotation as Earth and Derfhome. The shuttle from The Champion William went to the south end.
The interesting thing was that genetic material showed both poles shared common bacteria. This surprised people used to dealing with larger organisms, but was already assumed by those familiar with bacteria from other environments. They could ride on the wind a long ways.
The atmosphere had free oxygen, but only about thirty percent. That and the lower than standard surface pressure meant they didn't need suits, but a breathing mask was a must.
The teams took samples of the plants. Several people cautioned against harvesting more than necessary as growth might be slow and existence precarious in such a hostile environment. Some of the forms looked bizarre to eyes used to more conventional shapes and leaves. Ming Lee, second cook on The Champion William, surprised them by informing them there were Earth plants of nearly identical form to the native vegetation. Fortunately their web fraction contained references and images for Socotra Island in the Indian ocean on Earth, so they had more than his recollection. The bottle and dragon blood trees in the photos looked as alien as any landscape they'd seen.
Ming Lee also suggested they examine the polar areas during the night time when temperatures abated slightly. That led to the discovery of insect analogs. Probity Schlemmer, the coms officer, was with the landing party exploring with night vision equipment, and credited with finding a sort of social insect climbing on a plant very similar to a large cactus. The plants were mostly a meter and a half to three meters tall, with a well-set proportion of height to diameter. Closer examination showed the insects entering and exiting a small hole in the plant.
Since there were several hundred thousand of the plants in this one area of the south pole Gordon OK'd cutting one up and taking samples. He was concerned however with the insect colony, and instructed they determine if they were present in all the cactus analogs before sacrificing this one. A night survey found that almost a quarter of the plants had colonies. More interesting was that the colonized plants seemed to thrive better.
Upon cutting the plant into sections several things became apparent. Some of the insects were specialized and could fly, and those were capable of aggressively defending the plant and themselves. The rest of the plant dissection was carried out by two crew in pressure suits. The discoverers of the defending insects spent a few hours in the clinic having tiny barbs removed and getting topical medication and prophylactic steroids in case there was an allergic reaction.
The insects occupied hollows and connecting passages in the pulpy interior of the plant. They carved these out and opened them top and bottom to the outside air. The plant responded by generating a sort of filmy scab in the inside surface to stop moisture loss. Once this tough skin was formed the holes were plugged. A careful examination found puckered scars on the exterior to mark these healed spots, once they knew what to look for.
Some of the chambers were brood halls, and some were for food storage. They filled some chambers with a sort of honey, much thicker than Earth honeybees would create. Probity theorized that the plant could somehow tap into this resource in time of need too. That would explain why the infested plants fared better. They didn't have a visible mechanism for this to happen, but as Probity pointed out, that might not be visible until the plant was stressed and needed to tap into the resource.
There was some discussion of bringing back a specimen, but they were large and heavily covered with fine sharp hair-like spines, and they had no idea how much they depended on tapping the resources of the area around them to survive. Nobody had found two closer that three meters from the next. They must have some way of defending their territory. Ming Lee was of the opinion the fine hairy spines indicated there was something besides the social insects that might try to feed on the plants, but they never saw anything or came on a plant with signs of such feeding.
There were a very few small plants, and no sign they propagated by seed. It became apparent they had to attain a certain size to be attractive for colonization. Still they got two small ones to take home with them, complete with a couple cubic meters of surrounding soil.
When the tap root of the one they cut up was examined it made them sure trying to transport a mature one was impractical. When they'd dug down seven meters the root was still good sized. In the end they had samples of all the plant tissues, at least five specialized forms of the insect, and the 'honey' that was more like tar for viscosity than Earth honey.
Since there was no adverse reaction to the stings they were encouraged to have one Human and one Derf volunteer start testing to see if the honey was edible. They didn't carry the test animals most Deep Space Explorers took along as a matter of course, but it would take a month to work up to an amount that would indicate there was no danger.
Thor pointed out the plants likely grew too slow for any significant harvest to be possible. Lee on the other hand suggested that if it was desirable then they could introduce it to other worlds where with a more hospitable environment it might grow better.
Other plants were interesting, and some might prove to have medicinal value or something, but nothing was as complex and exciting as the inhabited cacti. It would take a serious survey a couple years to do either pole justice. They hadn't looked in the few ponds at all.
Chapter 22
The delay to finish a superficial survey of Janus was six days. The entire fleet was horribly spoiled. The discovery of a world with any free water or life would be a crowning achievement for most exploration companies. After their previous discoveries it was merely interesting.
Gordon was happy to resume the trip home. The Caterpillars didn't drop with either shuttle to Janus. But then they didn't make a point of inviting them. They patiently waited, exchanging a few grids with Lee and Talker. They made slow progress. Not everything they understood was guaranteed a hundred percent. But that probably worked both ways.
Another four systems and they needed refueling and Gordon allowed it was time for a break again.
"We're getting back close enough we might run into an explorer," Lee mused, eating lunch with Thor and Gordon. Her idea of recreation was much different that the older crew. She spent time on reading that wasn't for her school work and watched some old videos. Alcohol was something she had no real taste for outside a rare treat with to celebrate something with other people, and poker or other games held no allure at all. Talker showed up to join them too.
"I think word probably percolated back through Earth and to the opposite side of explored space that we went deep with a fleet," Thor said. "Not many companies have even sent out two ship teams. So if we run into them they may not be surprised to see us. But I suspect just about anybody will be surprised to see a small alien fleet accompanying us. That's surprise enough, but the Caterpillar is likely to unnerve the most unflappable. It certainly did us first time we saw something that big."
"We're making progress talking to them," Lee said, frowning. "But by the time we get to Derfhome, or even Earth for that matter if they follow us there, we're still not going to be able to discuss anything complicated. Especially anything abstract. I can say hand, and we have open and closed now, as well as fist. But if I had to explain what shaking a fist means to us it would still be hopeless at this point. How are we going to explain the Caterpillars to Earthies with all their weird sensibilities?"
Gordon made a snorting noise through his nose, something he'd picked up from Jon Burris. "I've never wasted a lot of time trying to make Earth Humans comfortable. We don't have to explain them to anybody. They followed us back and we hardly had any choice. I don't think they would advocate shooting them to keep them from knowing where our worlds are, at least not out loud in public.
"That would be a really bad policy to follow. I mean, this time we still seem to have better weapons. Sooner or later we're going to find somebody who isn't impressed with X-head missiles and has their own or better. Better to practice tact and diplomacy before you find out the new fellow out-guns you. The Caterpillars treated us very well and they might have thought we were helpless with our little ships. Look how well that worked for them. We pulled their fat out of the fire when it mattered."
"The Badgers and Bills aren't all coming to Earth with us are they?" Lee asked.
"I am," Talker told her. "Some will go off to Fargone with much of the crew, and a few to New Japan to discuss buying weapons. I expect a couple will stay at Derfhome to study it. I shall go to Earth on the Dart, and require at least one assistant. There are three young people to choose from."
"Then you'll be going over to the Dart when we go to Earth," Lee realized. "I'll miss you."
"Thank you. I'm sure we'll be able to communicate, and perhaps even visit when we get to Earth. It might be awkward... It might give the wrong impression to be in your command vessel," Talker said.
"They might think we're holding you hostage," Thor said.
"Indeed, at the very least it brings our sovereignty into question," Talker agreed.
"We may visit, maybe even do some stuff together, if we're on Luna," Lee said. "No way I'm going down to Earth itself. I had too bad an experience to want to repeat it. But you're a big wheel. They'll treat you OK."
"I will make it clear their delegation is under our protection," Gordon said.
"That should do it," Lee agreed. "Gordon beat the snot out of them recently enough the memory hasn't faded."
"Yes, I remember some of what you told me from your side of the experience," Talker said. "The Fargoers have been most illuminating in describing his engaging North American forces in their home system. They described it in somewhat coarser terms, but it was interesting since they were a disinterested third party."
Thor looked up sharply and laughed. "Disinterested? The Fargoer captains were baying for blood. The odds were, they would lose at least a cruiser, or their command would have turned them loose to finish the Earthies off. They really didn't appreciate somebody coming in hot and turning their system into a shooting gallery."
"Baying?" Talker asked, looking at his pad. "Like hounds? Do I have that right? I'm surprised Derf would use a term having to do with Earth dogs."
"Oh, we have dogs now too," Thor assured him. "We didn't have anything domesticated of a size and personality like dogs. The larger breeds make more sense for us, and they've done a lot of genetic repairs so the big ones don't have so many hip problems and chemical sensitivities like they used to. I bet there is an audio file if you want to check the web fraction for baying."
Talker did a search on his pad and activated it. When it played, his hair stood up from between his ears all the way down his spine.
"There something disturbing about that, and I don't know why. We have a tracking and hunting animal, but it is mute, so I don't know how I could have an source for that primordial reflex. Nevertheless, it gave me chills."
"That's interesting," Lee said. "Makes you wonder how long something persists in your hard wiring after all living memory of it has passed."
"I find you often have a very different take on things than others," Talker told Lee. "I hope you can make yourself available at least on com when we go to talk with Earth officials. Sometimes you cut to the heart of the matter and I value that."
"Of course you can," Lee said. "You already have top access on my com filters."
* * *
Another cycle of pushing ahead then stopping to fuel and take a rest break put them very close to their previous outbound track. The Fargoers had a problem with a disagreement about a poker game over the break. To the point two people were ordered to abstain from playing any game of chance until the cruise was over, and assigned one to a different department and duties. That was considered draconian measures in Fargone society.
Lee and Talker made some progress nailing down 'therefore', but the Caterpillars refused to say eleven, twelve, thirteen, and so forth, stuck on ten-one, ten-two, ten-three. Gordon suggested they ignore it since their way of doing it was obvious in meaning and probably better than the customary usage. That horrified a few grammarians, but his recent tiff with the Badgers and Bills made them very reluctant to challenge their commander.
Talker suggested they might eventually prevail and change the language if the was enough trade and exchange of ideas with the Caterpillars.
Thor was frankly on the Caterpillars' side, and hoped they would rationalize some spellings too.
The next system had a planet with water vapor in the atmosphere. The Sharp Claws diverted slightly to make a closer pass at speed, but there was no free standing liquid water. They decided without detectable oxygen it wasn't of interest and the fleet blasted on through the system. The Sharp Claws caught up and joined them at jump.
The next star showed on their forward viewports and within a couple seconds Brownie said, "We have radio emissions, standard frequency, it looks to be a claims marker."
"How old?" Gordon asked. It would be embedded in the transmission.
"Twenty two days," Brownie said after a brief delay. " We just missed them."
"Make a formal log entry about this," Gordon instructed. "Is it a system claim?"
"Yeah, they note a water world however. It must be behind the star," Brownie said.
"No point in looking at it, if it's claimed," Thor said.
"Yes," Gordon agreed. "I'm glad we don't have to fuel up or we'd owe somebody for that."
"That means we probably won't find anything between here and Derfhome worth claiming," Lee said. "That doesn't already have a marker on it, I mean."
"If they came in off a Derfhome vector," Thor agreed. "And that seems most likely," he said before Lee could object.
"Are we close enough to know the stars between here and home?" Lee asked.
"We can see Survey System 2754 from here and get a positive ID from its spectra. That's the last charted system we passed through. I can see three different routes there from here. One of them through another surveyed system. Two routes are three jumps and the most likely way for us to find anything is a four system jump to 2754. Although it is an extra jump it is a shorter route with easier jumps."
"Let's do the least likely way to get one last chance at finding something," Lee said. "No point in going back through a surveyed system until we have too."
Brownie looked over at Gordon and got a slight nod.
"OK, we are taking a side step a bit to our old line of departure, then turning toward Derfhome again" Brownie said. "I'm putting the spatial model on your screens and sending the data set to the fleet."
"We weren't gone as long as we might have been," Thor noted. "We didn't get down to boring food and didn't have any real shortages of personal items like clothing. I know a few people who even have some personal rum left."
"Yes, but I also know of one Fargoer who owes near two million dollars Ceres for poker losses," Jon Burris said. "They are insane about gambling."
"The guys holding his markers better hope he doesn't disappear between when we register our claims and they start being paid," Lee worried.
"The man was very philosophical about it," Jon said. "He said it was grand entertainment and with the sort of payout we'll see he can afford it."
"He's right," Gordon said, "but the number of splits on the claim and how far away they are is going to mean it will take several times as long to get the sort of payout Lee and I saw. Providence was close enough they sent an expedition to start exploiting it right away, and the fast paying things like a spaceport and com sats and system fueling were only split two ways. It may take months, a year even, to cover his bet."
"He could ship right out again," Lee suggested. "Nobody can bug him to pay up if he's deep in the beyond. When he comes home his income will have had a chance to get ahead of it. He could even appoint somebody to take care of it for him. I know our bank would do that without any problem."
"You know, I think I'll suggest that to the fellow," Jon said. "He seemed sad for the trip to be ending anyway."
"He'll have to find somebody else," Lee said. "It's going to take us months to sort out all these claims before we can think about going out again. But it is a nice bonus we have a lot of supplies left over. I hope we can leave some of them aboard, or at least use them for whatever we find to keep the ships busy until we form another fleet."
Was that a sigh of relief Gordon let out, or despair? Jon wondered. It was hard to tell.
* * *
The next system had no marker radiating a message of ownership, but it wasn't all that interesting of a system either. It had a couple gas giants and a couple airless rocky planets close to the star. There was a larger planet out further that had an atmosphere, but no free oxygen and no indications of life.
"I think we should drop a claim marker on this system," Lee said.
"Why?" Thor asked, always the skeptic. "A claim costs millions to process, and I don't see any special resources here worth the expense."
"Location. If I understand the chart Brownie put up, this system and the one already claimed are a bit of a bottle neck for anybody aimed at Far Away and all our claims in between. This is about as far as a freighter with limited legs will get from Derfhome before they are wanting to fuel up. And a freighter will take the easier jumps. You know the other system with the water world is going to set up for the gas mining business. Somebody is going to set up here too and split the business. It might as well be us," Lee said.
Thor studied the chart critically and rotated it to a different view. "I think you're right," he finally admitted. "It won't pay off right away either, but I bet we have our fees back in two years."
"I'll take it as a personal claim and finance it, if you guys think it's a bad bet," Lee said, sharply.
Thor was speechless for a second, but Gordon covered for him smoothly.
"No need, I'm sure the crews will be happy for every claim we make, fast or slow."
The Sharp Claws was diverted again to release a claims satellite on a trajectory that should put it in a stable stellar orbit for at least a few decades. They couldn't read the motions of all the local objects well enough to see past that, but it was plenty.
The systems beyond were plain vanilla, to everyone's disappointment. No water worlds, no living planets. Anything worth claiming would be all that much more valuable for being so close to home. When they got back to Survey System 2754 it was like pulling off the expressway exit back in your hometown. It was civilization even if it was empty. They made the jump back to System 2723 without incident, and took this last opportunity to fuel up for free. At Derfhome there were mining rights and they'd owe fees even if they scooped it themselves.
* * *
"Let's look sharp going home folks," Gordon requested. "I'd like the Little Fleet to transition tight. The rest of you can spread out as much as you wish, but come in right on our tick please. The Caterpillars have been doing that on their own, so we should look like we know what we're doing to traffic control and whoever happens to be insystem."
Lee still didn't understand why Gordon cared about that, but whatever made him happy…
When their home star appeared in the forward viewports it looked much the same as any of a dozen others they'd visited.
"We have the standard system scan transmission coming in. Lagging about seven hours behind local Derfhome time. I've already asked for our mail so we should have it in a bit less than fourteen hours. Later in the off shift if you want to get up to read it," Brownie told Gordon.
"I'll have Choi Eun-sook start sorting it by priority and she can wake me up if something is so hot it won't wait until we take the bridge again," Gordon said.
"Mmmm... Besides three freighters, none of which is Red Metal, I show a USNA heavy cruiser the Albuquerque, and two Fargone warships docked at Derfhome station and one in Derfhome orbit," Brownie said. "The heavy cruiser Quantum Queer and the destroyer Straight Away at dock, and the heavy cruiser Bonus Points in Derfhome polar orbit. That seems, unusual."
"Nothing early in the feed to indicate any trouble? No warning to merchant ships or declarations of navigational hazards?" Gordon asked.
"Not yet. As you implied, they'd tell us that first. Ah... Heavily encrypted radio traffic going out from the Fargoers," Brownie said. "Not any code they have shared with us. Talking with his countrymen I assume."
"We shall continue a normal approach and assume a trailing orbit on Derfhome station," Gordon decided. "Just to humor me, not because I perceive any particular problem, I'd like the Sharp Claws to man a full hot weapons board and stand crew to all weapons on final approach. Say from about two hours out if nothing changes."
"Aye, telling them now," Brownie said. "Privately," he added.
"That can't hurt. Thank you," Gordon agreed. "No reason to upset out new allies. We have a nice treaty after all with our North American friends. No reason to think they just didn't stop by for a little show the flag cruise. I may have our tubes hot and The Champion William as well if I get a bad feeling as we get closer."
Gordon looked over at Talker. "You can be discreet about this for a couple days can't you?"
"Indeed, I'm all in favor of avoiding unnecessary alarm," Talker agreed. "I'd be happy to be able to save the story for when I write my memoirs in retirement. I am going to live to do that, aren't I?"
"I think so," Gordon reassured him. "We really do have a treaty with them, but we didn't immediately become best buddies. There was no provision to trade visits. When we left they weren't sure we'd even trade embassies. So it would be presumptuous, at the very least an attempt at intimidation to send around armed ships uninvited. The more so when our armed ships are absent. But if they intended an actual hostile act they wouldn't be docked on the station."
"We're all alive because Gordon says, 'Oh, we have a treaty, and they've docked at the station'. But he still mans the missile tubes and suits everybody up," Thor explained.
Talker nodded, "An abundance of caution," he said.
"That's the polite form, yeah," Thor said.
"Oh, I've heard the Fargoers’ version," Talker admitted. "It started something like. 'Devious, cold blooded bastard'. And went downhill from there. I had to look up a lot of the words."
"I don't think whoever commands the Albuquerque is going to give this many armed ships reason to open up on him," Lee told Talker. "If he was looking to intimidate Red Tree or any of the Derf because we were gone from Derfhome, then it was really bad timing."
* * *
When Gordon and the main crew returned for their next shift there were a lot of messages to go through. The one from the clan Mothers was on top of the queue. Gordon shared it with Thor and Lee.
"Clan son, we are glad to see your safe return. The USNA cruiser at Derfhome station is the second of their war vessels to sit there since your departure. The destroyer Texarkana arrived with timing suggesting it was dispatched as soon as commercial traffic to Earth carried word both of our armed ships were absent from the system. It arrived and docked within two days of normal transit time both ways after your departure. Then two weeks after its arrival the Albuquerque relieved it.
"Their intention seems to be not to actively seek any confrontation, but to let it hang over our heads as a reminder they are a larger better armed nation than us. That their visit is not a normal friendly visit is clear from the fact crew has not been granted leave to Derfhome. Indeed liberty to Derfhome station has been very limited and officers only.
"Perhaps they expected us to protest their presence from a position of weakness. We will not play these psychological games and ask for anything. If we protest it will be from a position of being able to enforce our requests.
"We sent the freighter Red Metal to the Fargone system with commercial cargo and gave the master letters and authorization to consult with the Fargone military. He was specifically authorized to invite them to have a presence in our system if they felt limiting the USNA influence so close to Fargone served their interests. As you see, they accepted.
"As we anticipated, they offered to make our system off limits to the USNA military vessels with an official announcement of exclusion, and to enforce that. Our spox was instructed to turn this offer down as it would make us a vassal system under Fargone protection. We had no way to prevent them doing so against our wishes, but they did not insist. Perhaps because as the Second Mother remarked, 'They realize Gordon will be returning'.
"That is an eventuality the North Americans seem to have not weighed carefully. We have no idea or intelligence what their orders are, if the Little Fleet returns. It is not our will that you quickly invite them to depart. To do so is to require us to permanently retain our armed vessels in system to enforce this at great expense. We do however intend to hold the destroyer Sharp Claws here at least temporarily.
"We have sent the Red Metal to occupy its previous wartime station, sending enough supplies that it can remain on station for an extended period. If word reaches them that the North Americans have reneged on their treaty, then we will resolve the matter permanently. They are instructed to start their run from much further out in the Solar Oort Cloud than we planned before, and rather than decapitate the North Americans with the loss of Vancouver and the surrounding region, they would impact the center of the continent with a higher energy strike, which would reduce their population and resources by an estimated eight tenths.
"If necessary we would act to further reduce that to zero before they could recover, as has been our custom of old when warring with other clans.
"We are reading summaries of your voyage as they are transmitted to us, and look forward to seeing your face."
(Official Chop of the Mothers of Red Tree attached.)
"Well, ships get lost between the stars," Thor growled a not too subtle threat.
"Do you want to get into that sort of a contest?" Lee asked. "Foolish as they are they would know what happened. Might as well tell the Red Metal to boost and have done with it, as start a war of attrition that will end that way anyway."
"We have system scan showing Bonus Points leaving for Fargone. That's news of us and their own going home to Fargone," Brownie said.
"Oh my... The Caterpillars seem to have upped acceleration past the station," Brownie said. "Looks like they know we're stopping and want to see where Bonus Points is taking the news."
The kilometer long ship took off at fifteen G on the same heading as Bonus Points left Derfhome. Then they increased their acceleration to twenty-two G. Their course would take them past Derfhome, fairly close. It was certainly going to give the Earthies an eyeful.
"Ha! When the captain of the USNA cruiser sees that on scan he's going to need to go change his shorts," Thor predicted.
"Indeed, we had to stifle such a reaction the first time we saw a Caterpillar ship maneuver, Gordon remembered. "Lacking the convenience of shorts."
Talker, knowing he was missing some of the message feed, but having system scan and hearing Brownie and Thor in the open was alarmed. "These Earth people at station. They won't panic and fire on the Caterpillars as they pass close will they?"
"No, they aren't as hard wired to be stupidly aggressive as Biters," Gordon assured him. "Given that everything has changed suddenly with us returning with extra ships and this strange companion, he may decide on his own that it is his duty to return home and update his command on developments."
"As is her privilege, the Third Mother has been sending a heavy stream of encrypted traffic also," Brownie informed Gordon.
"Everybody has their own take on it beyond our official report going out, I guess. Don't be shy if you want to talk to your guys," Gordon offered Talker.
"And have to rush to contradict myself in a few hours when the scan changes? No thanks. I'll wait and let the changing situation sort out before making hasty statements," Talker said.
"Your friend has a depth of wisdom," Ha-bob-bob-brie told Lee.
Chapter 23
Late in their shift there was a sudden change in the system scan. The Albuquerque announced to system control they were releasing unmanned traffic. They emitted a jump drone that hurried away not on a vector for normal Earth traffic but to a little used system off the normal trade route.
"That's a pretty uninteresting star system, with no mining and no commercial presence at all. Why would anybody be there to receive a jump drone?" Lee asked. "Can it go beyond?"
"No, if anybody is making a multi-jump drone I'm not aware of it. Not even military. They all maximize speed to get to the next system quickly. Artificial Stupids don't handle multi-system jumps well. They had somebody lurking there for backup," Gordon said with certainty. "They'll be the one to take word to Earth now."
"Hmm... Do we have the angle on it to put that armed jump drone you had them build in ahead of the messenger?” Thor asked.
"Sure, if you want to start a war," Gordon said.
"I'm close," Thor admitted. "I have little patience with liars and scoundrels. That ship sitting there says we are not really at peace with North America. It says we just have an armistice, that they are reminding us they can end it when the time seems right to them."
"Somebody in charge didn't believe the message Ms. Houke took home that we were willing to destroy them rather than yield," Lee said. "I wonder if she was imprisoned or at least let go from their service when she got home, after negotiating the treaty?"
"The Mothers pay news clipping services to gather information for them. I'm curious too," Gordon admitted. "I will ask the Mothers to add inquiries about her to the data collection. It might tell us something of their mindset. It does look as if perhaps she was too successful in her job."
"What are you going to do about the Albuquerque?" Lee asked him.
"Why am I required to do anything?" Gordon asked. "I intend to ignore them."
"Oh... that's really nasty," Lee decided.
Gordon declared the voyage of the Little Fleet complete, and released the Fargone ships from his service. The Sharp Claws, he informed their direction from him was at an end and they could ask the Mothers of Red Tree who they would retain in service and who would be cut loose. He offered to try to find transport for anyone not wishing to be released at Derfhome, and informed his own crews that anyone not wishing to remain in service for the trip to Earth could request leave or dismissal.
He docked briefly at Derfhome station and a dozen crewmen from the fleet changed ships and duties, with one electing to deadhead to Earth, two seeking rides to Fargone, and two saying their goodbyes and awaiting passage to more exotic destinations. After arranging their own passage down to Derfhome and a transfer for Thor to the Retribution to replace Captain Aristotle, who was taking leave at Derfhome, Gordon had a skeleton crew hold the High Hopes in Derfhome orbit, since long term docking at the station was too expensive.
Gordon was informed Quantum Queer would be staying at Derfhome for a bit to allow the destroyer Straight Away to rotate home. They would do so as an armed escort, as soon as the Badgers and Bills got a delegation sorted out to go on to Fargone.
The Albuquerque's master never spoke to them or acknowledged them with a hail or message of any sort. After completing an epic voyage some acknowledgment would have been normal for most spacers. News services on Derfhome were not as obnoxious as Earth, but he had to have seen the Badgers and Bills being interviewed. The Badgers directly as a few of them had an excellent command of English. But from the Earthies not a word. On the station nobody from the ship was in evidence. If they were at liberty they were in civilian clothing. It amused Gordon to think what sort of fees the cruiser was running up at dock trying to intimidate them. If they wanted to boost the local economy however they were succeeding.
The exo-clinic at Derfhome station couldn't start to do a medical on the entire fleet. They contented themselves with a thorough examination of two Humans, two Derf, and one each of the new aliens. The larger sample gave them a better statistic picture in any case. They picked the young woman who had the foot infection and found no traces of it lingering. They all got a clean bill of health.
* * *
Derfhome surprised the Badgers and Bills. Nobody hid the population numbers or the rural nature of most of the clan keeps from them. The facts were there if they searched the web fraction they had access to. They'd just formed this false expectation from the obvious wealth and weapons tech of the Little Fleet of a much more bustling urban sort of planet.
Lee assured them Earth was very much that way, but no other planet in the Human sphere had been populated long enough to be as crowded or industrialized as they were expecting. Even New Japan and Fargone were still mostly empty, Fargone more so because they were extremely picky about immigration.
Derf cities were rather functional places, without a lot of flashy displays of wealth that come with spending government money on bureaucratic palaces, courts, endless office buildings or the monuments, arches, statues and obelisks that celebrate heroes and victories. All the power resided in the keeps and modest clan halls. The cities were for trade, warehouses, and some industrial processes no clan Mothers wanted on their lands. The hotels and restaurants were more for the businesspeople than resorts for vacationers. There was no fascination with casinos of which even Fargone had a few. The aliens nevertheless found some shopping, enough they could eat to be interesting, and trips to places of natural beauty on which to spend some of their money.
Not many got to see the core of the culture, the clan keep. Talker did as a guest of Gordon and Lee after spending a couple days seeing his subordinates were settled in and having, or causing no problems. Lee and Gordon visited their bank and did some personal shopping waiting on Talker to go to Red Tree all together. Lee was nervous about their reception. She'd been in conflict with the First Mother her first visit and hadn't forgotten that. Having the Third Mother arrive in the same aircar with them, without expressing any objections, eased her concern. It was a ten seat commuter aircraft, which meant a Human, Badger and two Derf pushed its load envelope.
Chatting with the Third Mother on the flight Lee asked if she would accompany Talker and Singer to Earth, to facilitate their adaption of the claims system.
"I've had enough travel for awhile. I see no need for my presence. Derf, Fargoers and others have filed claims before. It is the company filing, not Red Tree. Now, whether they will welcome this other civilization into the system has little to do with Red Tree. Indeed too close an association might prejudice them. We may be at peace with North America, if it holds, but I doubt we have actually found favor with them to somehow be seen as a sponsor. What would I say?" She had a point, Lee decided.
Lee thought her friend Clare who they'd rescued from Earth might be at the keep. She'd left her behind when the Little Fleet left to further her education. She'd found the education Earth gave to negative tax recipients didn't prepare her for any sort of spacer job. She had Lee's license to visit the keep or stay in the city and take classes as she wished.
Lee found a private moment to hide her use of a private phone from envious eyes, and sent Clare a message that she was on planet and at the Red Tree keep, but she was just passing through to Earth and might not see her. Clare replied that she hadn't expected her back so soon, was surprised when the Little Fleet returned, and was immersed in studies and doing fine, but just starting to see how much there was for her to learn. Also, did Lee think she'd be coming back from Earth? Lee assured her that was the plan.
Gordon got word that the Bonus Points returned almost as fast as a turnaround from Fargone could be done. The huge Caterpillar ship unnerved the Fargoers and they had tactfully suggested they'd love to see if the aliens would follow the Bonus Points back to Derfhome. Unsaid but intimated was soon. It did, to their considerable relief.
Whatever word they brought back to the Fargone forces at Derfhome they didn't share with Gordon. He neither expressed approval or said anything to discourage their presence. As far as he was concerned that was between the Mothers and the Fargoers. He'd follow their requests for support if it made sense and was within his capabilities. It wasn't part of the business interests of the Little Fleet. It did however make him glad he had both the Third Mother and a Fargone spox along on their voyage. Just so he didn't get sucked deeper into the political side of it.
A delegation on the Deep Space Explorer Green went to Fargone to do business. Mixed least they provoke the wrath of Gordon by Badger or Bill trying to exclude the other again. The Fargone destroyer Straight Away gave them an armed escort.
The DSE Wonder went to New Japan, likely the more important delegation to buy arms they could afford. Fargone, unless they came up with some simple legacy systems, was going to be out of their reach. Since the Mother had reclaimed Sharp Claws to their service the Retribution escorted the Wonder, under command of Thor since Captain Aristotle wanted leave on Derfhome. The Retribution would return to Derfhome once the new aliens were safely introduced to the somewhat xenophobic New Japanese, as they intended for the Retribution to escort the Dart and High Hopes to Earth.
The senior Mothers welcomed Talker as well as Lee could have hoped. She'd been the first Human to visit the Red Tree keep. Lee had no idea if once she’d broken the ice they'd had any others visit, and she wasn't about to ask. Lee assumed word on just about anything she said would filter back to the Mothers, who might well wonder what concern of hers their visitors were. Talker might very well be only the second non-Derf to be seen in the keep. The Derf children certainly considered him a treat, mobbing him anytime he stopped in a public place. Lee suspected they were more comfortable with him than her because he had fur.
The First Mother had given her leave to bring a visitor when she'd been here before. Lee hoped the First Mum was not regretting that extraordinary privilege she'd extended to Lee. Gordon quietly assured her in their private rooms that if they had been terribly offended they wouldn't have given Talker private quarters. A place by the hearth in the clan hall was not considered an insult to travelers. That relieved Lee somewhat. Now if Talker just didn't inadvertently offend anyone after dinner.
Talker spoke English, if anything, better than the Mothers, which was surprising as he'd known it for a much shorter time. However he was immersed in it with both negotiating back on Far Away, and having come over to the High Hopes to help translate the Caterpillar transmissions. The Mothers knew it more as a diplomatic language than for normal conversation.
Lee could see the Mothers warm to him, discussing how Badgers governed themselves. Their system of independent land holdings were much more like Derf clans despite the fact it was not a serial matriarchy, and they did more in common than Derf clans. They still functioned as isolated rural communities, with trades and specialized commerce in separate towns. Even Gordon twitched and grew attentive when the Mothers told Talker the clans had to do more in common too, as a matter of necessity to deal with the outside sphere of Human influence. He almost fell off his chair when they casually mentioned they needed to find measured ways to bring town Derf and traders into having an interest and voice in governance.
Lee was caught unaware by Talker mentioning he'd taken her into a market town to trade in coins and shop for jewelry. He put her on the spot to relate the experience. Fortunately she had the necklace she'd bought under her blouse and brought it out and passed it to the Mothers to examine. Nothing she brought up seemed to offend, though Gordon was holding his breath. When she related how the farm supervisor from Talker's household had picked them up in a big farm truck with stinky boots and they rode in the cab the Mothers thought it was hilarious. Lee knew they didn't entirely approve of the expense of an aircar they'd been forced to use for lack of time. So they loved the story.
Lee noticed the new Champion, Garrett, was standing behind the Mothers, though without the formality of his full outfit. He did however have the ax of his office. She hadn't thought of him as being on duty, but apparently the Mothers had felt the need for a little formality with this foreign visitor. After seeing the very fine metalwork of the necklace the Mothers bade Garrett to fetch his helm and shield.
Talker oohed and awwed sincerely over the magnificent engraving and enamel work until he found the a panel ruined by a pistol shot with the enamel shattered and a groove in the bronze smeared with gilding metal and lead. "This is terrible to have damaged such artwork. Is there a contemporary artist that can repair it?" Talker asked.
The First Mother handed the armor back to Garrett to put away and dismissed him from duty. That marked a change to a different level of comfort with Talker.
"Oh, yes. We have artisans aplenty in the engraving and enamel overlay, but the damage is honestly come by in battle. We never erase such scars," the First Mother related.
"Might one ask the history?" Talker asked politely.
The First Mother gestured to the Second, tired of talking or to do her honor. She related how they had returned to the keep after the North Americans invaded, finding their Champion dead, and all the Humans dead at his hand too. It wasn't hard to reconstruct events from the scene. The ship's political officer lay dead with a bullet in him from his superior's pistol, and his own weapon under his body lacking one round from the magazine that matched the smear on their Champion's shield.
Two things about the story struck Talker hard. That even the Derf had weapons which would strike every living thing dead with minimal damage to property, and that the principal adversaries sat down and drank together awaiting their death. Both ideas were terrifying.
When Talker asked where one might buy examples of such fine work on more mundane objects the Mothers were surprised. Copper and bronze were money or weapons to their mind. The idea of using the art for personal jewelry or utilitarian objects seemed foreign. But as Talker described decorated bowls or goblets, fancy boxes and lockets for precious objects as well as bracelets and pendants, they warmed to the idea. Any way to convert abundant labor to cash was welcome. If aliens and foreigners were willing to honor their work with cash money why refuse it? The thought that Derf might adapt the custom never occurred to them, or their practical side might have made them hesitate. They thought much less what this would mean to the metal smiths.
Three days was plenty of time to spend at Red Tree as far as Lee was concerned. She had no objection when Gordon and Talker were eager to press on to Earth.
* * *
Lee and Talker composed a message they hoped said they were going on to Earth, using images of the Dart, High Hopes and the Retribution, as well as a star map and an image of the world. The Caterpillars didn't reply. Perhaps silence was assent.
When Gordon's full flight crew took the bridge, he announced to traffic control they would be leaving the Derfhome system on course for Earth in a bit more than an hour.
Captain Precious Roosevelt of the Quantum Queer called him in a private conference, concern written on the man's face. "Are you aware fully armed ships are very tightly regulated in the Earth system?"
"I've been to Earth with the High Hopes before," Gordon told him. "Once in command and a couple times not. We did have to follow quite a lengthy series of holds and follow traffic commands. And that was with just the limited range weapons a deep space explorer is limited to carrying if it is Earth flagged. But Earth orbit is full of armed ships from all different nations belonging to the Claims Commission members and forts and stations."
"Have you ever seen Fargone or New Japan armed vessel in Earth orbit?" Precious asked pointedly.
"Well, no. But we didn't exactly do a survey. I didn't really read system scan either, it's busy at Earth. If it didn't have to do with us landing on Luna I was ignoring it. That complicated approach took my whole attention."
"I'd advise you to be frank with Lunar traffic control that the High Hopes is reflagged as a Derf vessel carrying long range weapons. My understanding from Fargone naval training is that Earth vessels are permitted inside L1, and upon asking traffic clearance may run to jump outside the Earth system, but they are not permitted to loiter or maneuver around the solar system. Outside armed vessels have never been welcome in the Human home system."
"Says who?" Gordon asked. "There's nothing in the Notes to Navigation in the Survey Catalog."
"It's an embarrassment. It's been imposed on them now since back in the last century."
"Imposed by who?" Gordon asked again.
"The Lunar Republic, The Kingdom of Central, and Home," Precious said.
"Do the Loonies even have any armed ships? I've never seen one in the registry. In fact, I don't remember ever seeing a jump capable ship registered to the Lunar Republic."
"Neither have I, but I can assure you if you check you will find the Republic has mutual defense treaties with both the Kingdom and Home. They do have armed ships I can assure you, but I don't believe they deign to register them with the Earth registry. The Lunar group control issues passage past L1 to go out-system. What happens inside L1 or outside the Solar system is not their concern. This was established clear back when Mars only had a few hundred people, there was no other permanent presence off Earth but Luna and Mars, and no jump ships even existed yet."
"Why haven't I heard of such a thing?" Gordon asked, skeptical.
"Why would you hear of such a thing?" Precious asked. "Derf have never had armed vessels before, and you've never tried to take them to Earth."
"We have actually," Gordon contradicted him. "We sent Sharp Claws on a raid and took out the North American naval shipyards. Remember?"
"And you didn't get any reproof or communication about that?" Precious asked, puzzled.
"Not a peep."
Precious got a faraway look, and was thinking. Something that Gordon was only going to tolerate so long while he was on count to boost. But he forced himself to be patient. Captain Roosevelt was an ally and no fool. Not someone with who you should get snippy.
"I am curious," Precious finally said. "Did all the action of that raid take place inside L1?"
"Uhhh... " Gordon tried hard to remember the after action report exactly. "They actually got under the orbit of the forts and shipyard to release weapons. Thor took the Sharp Claws so low he burned off some antennas and lost pressure on a couple compartments from damage hitting air. He cut it way too close," Gordon admitted. "But what difference?"
"And it was a declared war, I vividly remember that," Precious said. "You didn't do it that way inside L1as a legal nit-pick?"
"Not at all. We never heard of this L1 thing. We had no reason to do it that way. Except it was just the way Earth and Luna lined up at that time, that had a good route in and out to jump," Gordon admitted. "Even Thor, not given to modesty, will tell you he lucked out shaving it so close."
"Then I think you lucked out twice. It probably looked like you did it that way out of respect so you got a pass. It would matter a great deal to The Lunar powers if you make war in the greater Solar system. Mind you, I said the limits were imposed. The Earth powers have never agreed or signed a treaty. An attitude I can relate to as a Fargoer. When I say imposed, I mean Home and the Central Kingdom enforced it. They blew a bunch of Chinese and North American ships to hell and gone clear back in the 2080s. If you look it up I think you'll still find the history in public sources. And they can still enforce it. That's all I want to say about that because Fargone has its own agreements with the Lunar Association, and if you want to know any more about that you can talk to somebody way over my pay grade. I understand you and Missy Lee have the ear of the Fargone Admiralty – directly?" Precious asked.
"Yeah, you have to know that. The talks we had resulted in you and the Road Runner coming along with us. They were hot to have a spox with us."
"A spox? That's all? They didn't force the Murphy's Law and Road Runner on you as a condition of supply and support?" Precious asked.
"Nah, that was Lee's idea," Gordon said. "If they had tried to pressure us much more we'd have gone to New Japan for supply and told them to go pound sand. They wanted a spox, on his own ship it's true, but it was Lee's request it be the baddest heavy cruiser they had, with a volunteer crew. She very specifically asked you have your pick of crew, and we agreed to allow you shares. Otherwise they might have sent you for your usual pay. We didn't think that would work."
Precious sighed. "You're not the only one hearing new things. That's not at all the scuttlebutt we heard about what happened. Perhaps we were fed deliberate misinformation, because the story going around was much kinder to the Admiralty than that."
"You said the traffic rules were embarrassing to the Earth powers. Perhaps negotiating for a delegation with a teenage girl and a Derf was for embarrassing for your bosses," Gordon suggested.
"Sometimes I wonder if anything we've been told really happened," Precious admitted.
"Talker had that conversation with Ernie," Gordon said. "When they realized how well we could manipulate images, even video, the Badgers wondered if they could believe anything in our net. They saw all kinds of bizarre humor images and didn't find them funny at all."
"Ha! Did he flat out tell them you can't trust pix?" Precious asked.
"He left it to Lee to tell him that grown-up people in our societies are skeptical of everything and learn to not be fooled too easily. It was easier to take from her," Gordon said. "Now, I'm on count to go, and I thank you for the information, and we'll research it. I'll be polite to anyone who takes offense at our presence. But I need to go command this diminished Little Fleet I have."
"Yes sir. Be safe out there," Precious said and disconnected.
* * *
Gordon watched everything closely when leaving orbit. You might as well say Brownie flew the ship, but Gordon was not distracted with the details of doing so and very much in command. He watched their radars and system scan, listened to chatter from the other ships with him and nearby in the Derfhome system. Once they were on run to jump and away from any traffic he had time to think again.
"Lee, look at this conversation I had with Captain Roosevelt and tell me what you think about it," Gordon requested, sending the file to her board.
He then sat and thought on the whole picture. The USNA cruiser at Derfhome, the way he'd always viewed Human governments and his shift further to the negative when they had kidnapped Lee. The thousand little remarks Jack and Myrtle had made in their years together that showed their world view. But they were North American and of the current generation basically. The revelation the balance of power might not be what it appeared in the Earth system, and how the surprise of an entire complex alien civilization of multiple races might impact everything when they arrived at Earth.
Lee got far enough into the file to suggested she send a copy to Thor. Gordon readily agreed.
Gordon wished he could go have a chat with Admiral Serendipity Duvochek Hawking. If Precious had spoken to him much earlier, not in the last hour to a scheduled departure, he'd have hitched a ride to Fargone and had a little chat with the man. Bur Gordon wasn't going to tell their new friends he suddenly had to delay their departure to go talk politics with a Fargoer Admiral. The whole carefully timed and crafted deal could fall apart on them.
One of the few things of which he was sure was that Serendipity wouldn't evade his questions. With modern software blatant lying was impossible, but people could tell you only the portions of the truth that served their interests. Worse, the ability to identify lying with certainty meant underlings were often lied to so they would be a buffer against their superiors being measured by verifying software directly.
Gordon thought Serendipity was high enough in rank his own government officials wouldn't lie to him. To lie to your highest operational officers was to invite chaos and failure. First, people of that high a rank did not shrug it off when they found they'd been manipulated. Lying to your infantry sergeants was very different than lying to your generals. Sergeants don't have the resources to lead a coup.
Also, fighting based on lies usually meant the lies expanded to involve untruths about physical facts. A liar rarely could limit himself to lying about motives and policy. Lies always increase as one lie requires another lie to cover it. They never diminish. A lie about the events and origins of a conflict would expand to include the day to day prosecution of a war until defeats and weaknesses were denied, the reality of ship and troop numbers and capabilities hidden until hiding reality from those that needed to know it to fight and the supporting population was as important as misleading the enemy. That was in Human societies. The clan Mothers would never try that. Having a history and tradition of political change by assassination made for much more respect from the ruling class.
All the unknowns and changes made for a lot of little mental itches. The sort that bothered him. Gordon routed a message to Brownie rather than call over to him out loud. "Send a message back to Captain Roosevelt," Gordon ordered. "Please request him to send a messenger drone after us if the Albuquerque undocks and leaves the Derfhome system after we jump out. I'd like to know when and what star it is aimed at when it jumps out. If he is not free to expend a jump drone so lightly on his own discretion, ask my bank to send a commercial drone after us and request undelivered messages be forwarded until they catch up. Also send an encrypted message to my Mothers. Request they quietly raise the alert status of the Sharp Claws before we jump by sending a minimum sized team to keep a stand-by alert on the weapons as long as the USNA keeps a ship in the system. I'll pay the crew wages from the exploration company accounts if they wish. I suggest they be sent on the usual freight supply shuttle rather than a passenger shuttle."
"Aye," was all Brownie responded. Gordon felt much better.
"Movement on system scan," Brownie reported much later. "The Caterpillars decided to join us after all."
"That's not surprising, but in a way it just makes it more complicated at the other end," Gordon said.
"Yes, but people don't really believe what you tell them until they see it themselves," Lee insisted. "I'm glad they are along because it's one more thing like having the Badgers and Bills with us to corroborate our story."
"I didn't teach you that word," Gordon said, smiling.
"I do pick up a little here and there on my own," Lee said, irked. "All the reading I do I have to look up terms when new ones come up. But I agree with Talker that you never finish learning English. I'm just sorry Thor isn't on the bridge with us."
"Why's that?" Gordon asked.
"I'd love to rub his nose in the fact the Caterpillars are coming to Earth with us, like I always said. But I don't want to do it on com or bother an acting Captain on his bridge."
"Ahhh. You're learning tact too," Gordon said, amazed.
Chapter 24
Next shift for the primary bridge crew, they jumped. The Caterpillars had caught up and jumped with them. One the other side of jump it was one of three systems between Derfhome and Earth that had no permanent presence. The Caterpillars ran ahead but took off at near a ten degree angle from the course Gordon intended to take.
"Brownie, would you identify to what system they are going? They have a star map so I don't think they are making an error and anticipating we are going there," Gordon said.
"That's Survey System 2271," Brownie said, shortly. "It has a small scale mining operation that mines its own fuel, but it is listed as a fuel source for emergencies only."
"I imagine a kilometer long alien ship blasting through the system will create quite the stir," Gordon guessed. "Do you know if they are close enough to out next target star to join us there from 2271?"
"Yes, and it's a fairly easy jump. An empty freighter could do it easily. Which makes me realize we don't know the jump envelopes the Caterpillars consider safe. They don't have velocity charts to wring out that last decimal place of safety for the jump. You didn't include that with the star chart did you? Brownie asked Lee.
"No, and I don't want to assume they are as good as us or better. We've already seen we are ahead in some ways and behind in others. Including that data would be iffy right now for the state of our ability to be precise. I don't know if they could even use it if we did communicate it properly," Lee said.
"Well any other deficiency they can probably make up with sheer speed," Gordon noted.
"I'm glad they're fast. As we get closer to Earth I worry some idiot will shoot at them," Lee said.
"Well they know what Human weapons can do now," Gordon pointed out. "So they should be well warned to avoid close contact with strangers. Besides which the chances of running into an armed ship are almost zero outside of the three systems manufacturing their own arms."
"Isn't Bountiful making their own armed ships now?" Brownie asked.
"Yes, for themselves, but I doubt anybody is buying them from out-system. They're more for police cutters than serious warships," Gordon said.
"Maybe they'd have something cheap for the Badgers," Lee said. "That might be all the more that they'd need for the Biters."
"True, unless they all get into an arms race," Ha-bob-bob-brie spoke up making a rare statement.
"Crud... I never thought of that," Lee admitted.
They adjusted course around the star further out than the Caterpillars felt comfortable and at a modest boost. After the beta crew had a shift and they came back on they jumped again.
* * *
Survey System 2268 was called Angel for the water world with no explanation given for the name in the catalog. The water world was being actively seeded starting about sixty years ago, The atmosphere started with more carbon dioxide than usual since it had significant volcanism. Bacteria were spread at first and progressively complex organisms such as algae. People had learned unlikely candidates sometimes did better than the ones experts favored, so to some degree a shotgun approach was used now. Angel had surprised everybody by growing sugar cane very well and early for the unfavorable conditions. It was spreading along rivers and streams all over the world's temperate zones. That was very speedy progress for such projects. In just a few hundred years it might be possible to walk outdoors without a breathing mask.
The world had no population yet, just a research station with a half dozen workers aiding and monitoring the terraforming. The population of the system was a couple hundred miners working a sparse asteroid belt and one moon of a gas giant. When Gordon's group entered the mining activity was centered around the gas giant and the close portions of the belt well away from their entry. Close to ninety degrees around the orbit of the gas giant from them. System scan consisted of one repeating radio broadcast that informed them all miners carried transponders that responded to the agreed on common radar frequency. It painted a map of those actively responding, but given the range most of it was about five hours out of date. That didn't matter because nothing was anywhere near close enough to interfere with their course.
Gordon identified his group and indicated they were on the way to Earth, offered to relay data or news if it could catch up to he before he jumped out. He had no significant news from Derfhome or Fargone he wished to share. But he did warn them they had a large alien traveling companion who was peaceful dogging their route, and might pass through.
When they were past the halfway mark headed out of the system, well into the next shift the miners sent an encrypted message for their parent company. Other than the address header it was all code, but the header guaranteed fees to deliver it to Earth. Gordon had Brownie acknowledge next shift, but they'd be gone to the next system before the miners received it.
The Caterpillars emerged behind them as they transited the next system, undoubtedly giving the miners an eyeful. Perhaps their snail's pace bored them as they again rushed ahead and took an alternative route. That detour would take them through Lucky Strike which had a marginally habitable world. But there was a station and always a few stars ships as well as local craft in the system.
"You know, if they keep zigzagging like this, the Caterpillars are going to pass through several inhabited systems before Earth," Gordon realized. "Somebody is going to send a drone to Earth about them, and we aren't going to roll in with them as a surprise like we imagined."
"They must be about ready to fuel again too," Lee worried. "This region of space is so heavily settled most systems have claims on the gas giants for fueling rights. If they dip unawares somebody is going to have a complaint of fuel rustling."
"Do you think you could compose a grid statement to explain that?" Gordon asked.
"Not with any confidence," Lee decided. "It would be easier to just pay their bill for them."
"Well, at least you can afford it," Gordon said.
"I can't charge it off to the Fleet?" Lee asked.
"What share does the Fleet get to tap?" Gordon countered.
"Not a share, but it's an expense of the Fleet, deducted before the shares are tallied," Lee insisted.
"How does it profit the fleet to fuel up your pet aliens?" Gordon demanded.
"They'll get shares of whatever we learn from their refining machine. Maybe a great deal of money if it can be scaled up. There's the gravity plate we haven't started to analyze, and staying on good terms with them will pay off, I'm convinced. Even if we did expend a couple very expensive missiles to save their butts," Lee added herself, before Gordon could bring that up.
"I suppose it may show a profit in time," Gordon grudgingly allowed. "I wonder. How much will a rights holder charge for an unauthorized dip?"
"Gods only know. How much is a fill up for a deep space battleplate?" Lee wondered. "That's as big as Humans build. Right now," she added after a pause.
Gordon refused to be sidetracked into a discussion of why they needed kilometer long spaceships. Lee would undoubtedly make it sound reasonable to build on a couple kilometers long just to prove the fabbers could do it.
"I believe the number I heard at one time was a bit over a half million dollars Ceres," Brownie said.
"Ow... They'll look at the size and demand two or three times that," Lee decided.
"Again, I'm happy to have our own scoops," Gordon said. "Even this close to Earth there are systems one can divert to along your general route and scoop your own. Can you imagine the bill for us both ways on this voyage if we had to buy fuel?"
"But anybody developing the brown dwarfs is going to need to buy fuel somewhere along the way," Lee said, looking concerned about that.
"If you haul a thousand TONS of platinum to Earth you can budget for that," Gordon said. "Of course you may drive the market price down a bit, but if it's cheaper people will use it more."
"In my opinion growth around the brown dwarfs will create a bigger market than long range transport. The population will shift," Brownie said.
"Providence is closer than Earth," Lee pointed out. "Pretty and a good location."
"And orbital habs in the brown dwarf system closer yet. There will have to be workers there anyway," Brownie insisted.
"Oh yeah,” Lee agreed. “But if you can afford to live there, people like a real sky with mountains and forests. For some reason I haven't figured out they love to look out over water too."
"Be glad, since you own an island," Gordon said.
"Now that interests me, because the Hinth share this water gazing fixation," Ha-bob-bob-brie said.
"I can't gift you a plot on the island, because except for personal use I have ceded most of it to the Red Tree clan to develop, but if you would be happy with a mountain stream or a river I'll gift you a place for a home and life tenancy on Providence," Lee offered.
"I shall accept," Ha-bob-bob-brie said quickly. "It is almost impossible to own land on Hin. The government owns almost all of it. The priesthood the rest."
"There's just too much to know," Lee complained. "I haven't read near enough Human history and haven't touched on Hin yet. I'm trying to track down all this stuff Precious told us about last century now, and not finding much."
"Look at news articles instead of history texts," Brownie suggested. "They take days to come up with plausible lies. The fresh news is better and they never hide it all."
When nobody contradicted him, Lee agreed she'd do that. It sounded so cynical she expected some objection, but instead she saw a couple nods of agreement. It bothered her.
* * *
They transited two more system. One almost empty and another fairly busy. The Caterpillars went on one more diversion and rejoined them. Lee followed Brownie's suggestion and started looking at archived news sources. She got engrossed in it and wasn't following the bridge chatter much. What really made a difference was the origin. The old web fraction they'd bought when her parents were alive and working the High Hopes exploring was from North America, and had almost nothing about space news from the last century.
The expanded web fraction that Gordon bought on Fargone was a different story. It was heavily space weighed and just comparing word counts Lee suspected the earlier cut was flat out censored. In the version purchased from Fargone there was a list of spacecraft destroyed or removed from service in a document comparing insured civilian and sovereign risks. They included both civilian craft for which claims were possible and military for which sovereign nations had to accept the risk.
Lee wanted very much to see the source documents, but all their partial web had was the summary. It was awfully suspicious that the list showed a big spike from 2083 to 2087 of vessels lost to military action.
The tack of the article was that in the early 2090s more owners were going naked to their risk, because insurance was prohibitively expensive. They were right. It got to be near universal for any vessel that didn't take off and land from the same political entity. Pretty much only orbital shuttles were insurable.
By the time the first jump ships were making actual voyages of exploration instead of test flights nobody would write a meaningful policy to cover the cargo, much less the vessel. There simply wasn't enough history for the actuaries to gauge the risk, and a new starship ran to hundreds of millions of USNA dollars despite the ten to one devaluation earlier in the century.
In the critical period she was interested in the list included the Chinese vessel Pretty as Jade and the USNA James Kelly listed as lost to the Happy Lewis in high orbit. The USNA Cincinnati and Big 'Nuf were destroyed days later with no cause given. It was some time before the first Home vessel was on the list. The Home Boy was listed as destroyed in Lunar orbit along with the USNA shuttle Dallas. But it didn't say if they had engaged each other or what. And when Lee checked for references the web fraction didn't have any more on either ship.
The USNA Frank B. Kellogg and Henry A. Kissinger were listed as destroyed the same date on Luna, but again, not how. There were no extra files on them. Another Home vessel, the Eddie's Rascal, was listed as destroyed in China by bombardment along with eleven Chinese vessels. That shocked Lee. What the heck was a Home vessel doing on the ground in China? The list and web portion gave no clue why, or who bombarded them.
There was a pause and then the Chinese vessels The Straight Path, Guan, and Anchun were all listed as destroyed in lunar orbit. The Ruyi was listed for the same date as 'captured', but no indication who captured it. It was frustrating, but there sure were a lot more ships lost than Lee imagined for the era. There weren't as many flying then and this many had to be a substantial fraction.
Lee went back to the first entry as it at least identified who destroyed the Pretty as Jade and the James Kelly. When she enter the name Happy Lewis she got a surprise. The picture was of a really small vessel, smaller than one of their landing shuttles, hanging from the ceiling of the Space Museum in the Lunar Republic, with tourists looking up at it. She'd been in the Lunar Republic and nobody had even told her there was a Space Museum. There was a rover to be seen in the background and things beyond. It appeared to be a pretty big facility.
There was a story board for the tourists and Lee drew a rectangle around it and expanded it hoping the resolution was sufficient to read it. It was. It listed April Lewis as the pilot (Apprentice) at the vessel's first flight, and noted she flew under the direction of Master Pilot Washington Carter Dixon (Easy), commanding. The ship hanging there was noted to be the third major revision to the vessel. It had two command seats and up to four passenger seats could be inserted or removed. It was capable of lunar landings, which it had done frequently, and had been loaned to the collection by Singh Industries. It mentioned the drive and power plants had been removed for display. It was listed as fourteen point six meters long and seventeen metric tons dry.
What made Lee choke on her coffee and made everybody turn and look concerned at her was the next line. It said the maximum acceleration of the vessel in its final configuration was unpublished but it had been observed on public traffic scan to pull a sustained 14G. Lee was amazed they put that right out on a sign in front of God and everybody. 14G? Did nobody twig to the fact that was a lethal level of acceleration? Unless you were a Caterpillar... with either much more tolerance, or gravity manipulation one supposed.
"Are you OK?" Gordon asked Lee, mildly worried.
"Yeah, but I'm finding out some stuff has been what you'd call hidden in plain sight that puts a new light on things," Lee told him. "If I told you Home had an armed vessel back about 2090 that could pull 14G and the damn thing is now retired, and hanging in a museum, what would you think?"
Gordon did one of those slow blinks that she'd come to know meant all his neural circuits were busy and he was overwhelmed processing a new reality. It was pretty hard to overload him like that.
"If... that is accurate. What do they have now?" Gordon immediately jumped to the correct question.
"I don't know, but I think we better find out when we get to Earth," Lee said. "I'm sending all this to your screen. If we only had the tiny old web fraction from our exploring days I couldn't have found any of this. As it is, even with the big download you bought on Fargone I'm just getting tantalizing glimpses of what went on.
"But there sure were a lot of ships lost in a narrow time frame. I try to find more data on the ship's names and it's a blank. You really have to dig for it. Once we are able to buy deeper access I'll have a whole long list of people and ships I want to research. I don't care if we have to buy access to the whole damn web real time, we need it, not just archived and in English."
"Alright, when we are at Luna we'll let you dig into this deeper," Gordon agreed. "I know our fraction is limited, but why don't you have Luke dig into what we have deeper? He seems to be pretty good at data mining and he may find something else before we get there."
"You tell him," Lee said. "He accepts direction from you better than me. He'll just ask you to confirm it after I've told him anyway. So you still invest about as much time telling him from the start and it avoid irritating me when he asks. But yeah, I can think of a few searches he can do for us."
"Seems to me you are pre-irritated," Gordon said, looking amused.
Lee cut the command channel access to speak privately to Gordon. She should have done that before her previous remarks but hadn't. "Yes, next voyage if the man signs up with us fine, he's useful, but I don't want him on the same ship with us. I have no confidence if we had a whistling hole venting the compartment, and I ordered him to patch it, he wouldn't ask you if that was OK before he got his butt in gear to grab the patch kit."
"Done," Gordon promised her. Deciding now was also not a good time to argue over when or if there'd be another voyage. They were near shift end and everybody was tired.
* * *
After Lee was in bed, her mind was still racing. She'd made a start on research instructions for Luke to pursue about ships and politics in the 2080s and 2090s. But something else occurred to her. Lee pulled her com tablet from the inside corner of her bunk where she always left it and activated it in the dark.
She looked up Singh Industries. The list included shipbuilding and leasing, lunar tunneling and cubic management, food industries and industrial materials, leasing of heavy equipment and even banking. There was the System Bank, the System Bank of Central, and the System Bank of Central at Camelot. There was even a casino. There were both com and physical addresses on Home and Luna, but no stock symbols or numbers for their capitalization and activity. It must be a privately held company.
When Lee put in Washington Carter Dixon she got no bio, no obit, just a contact, which was oddly enough Singh Industries again. April Lewis got a short bio. She was listed as a partner for Singh Industries along with Jeff Singh and Heather Anderson. Lee noted those for Luke to research. The head and shoulders portrait of April wasn't dated, but was startling. It showed a very young girl in short hair, not at all the current fashion, with modest earrings, a neck chain, and no tats. She had on old-fashioned spex and what looked like an beaded armored vest with a stiff standup collar. There was a wrapped handle sticking up behind her shoulder. Lee had no idea to what sort of tool it could be attached.
April was also listed as associated with a pretty long list of businesses on Home and the Central Kingdom. Apparently those apparently were public documents, but the web fraction didn't detail them. It also listed as a reference the minutes of The Assembly of Home and several news articles starting with a BBC video in 2083, none of which were in the web fraction at this size. It was frustrating, but Lee could see including the uncited references must encourage sales of a greater fraction. There was no obituary. Strangely, at the end it said, Contact: Home com AL04, Central com Lady Lewis 023. That was weird. A granddaughter maybe? More likely a great-granddaughter Lee added up in her head. Lee saved the references and was finally able to sleep.
* * *
When they reached the last system before a jump to Sol was possible, it was a fairly complex active system, with industry and mining. Although it had no water world or living world. The low number for Survey System 17 said how close it was to Earth. It even had an old pre-Survey name of Epsilon Indi. It was a complex system to jump to with a lot of massive objects, the main star, two brown dwarfs tied together, a dark stellar remnant and a gas giant.
Lee was reading the Survey details of the system before jump. She stopped and watched the stars change. It was beyond imagining she'd ever get so jaded she wouldn't pause and watch that miracle. But it was interesting enough she went back to it after the jump. She had some questions but they could wait while the bridge listened to the system scan and announced themselves.
Gordon identified their three ships, making the point clear the Dart was an alien vessel associated with them, and that the Caterpillar ship also was a different species, but not under his control. He identified himself as commander and announced their intention to pass through to Earth.
Once the messages were away Lee asked, "Why is it that this system that has two brown dwarfs and that dark thing don't have big moon systems like the ones we found?"
"I don't know," Gordon admitted. "If you want to ask Mr. Goddard if there is some theory advanced about that he should know. If he didn't before he must certainly have had his interest renewed after our discoveries and researched it. What I'm wondering now is if the other systems with brown dwarfs closer to Earth are like this or more like the ones we found. If they have resources there will be a renewed effort to be able to visit them, even though they are difficult jump targets."
"We should have asked our people going to New Japan to inquire how hard it would be to make a fuel scooping drone that can dip into a brown dwarf," Lee decided. "We talked about that, but I just realized when we file claims for our finds it's going to make everybody want to find a way to tap into the closer brown dwarfs too. We should have gotten the jump on them."
"Fear not," Gordon counseled, "we thought of that, and engineering composed some inquiries into the matter to both New Japan and Fargone. We didn't feel the need to bother you with every detail."
"Oh good," Lee said. But she felt bad she hadn't remembered to arrange it herself.
This close to Earth there were picket ships posted to all the close stars. that duty rotated among the nations who pledged ships to the Claims Commission. It was something nations with smaller space forces usually performed to fulfill their membership obligation. At System 17, the system scan identified the Indian frigate Sahyadri as standing the current picket watch.
The speed of light lag both ways finally let the Sahyadri reply to Gordon.
"High Hopes, this is Captain Dhar of the Sahyadri, we are proceeding under acceleration for jump to Earth. Our instructions obligate us to make a return without delay if a vessel of an unknown alien race appears. There was no exception made for an escorted vessel so we are following our orders literally with no interpretation. We anticipate jumping out before you can respond.
"Our return and report will undoubtedly result in a heightened alert status among many of the Commission members. I suggest Commander Gordon that you delay here and send a jump drone through detailing your intentions and await a response for everyone's safety. I'm not at all certain a non-Earth armed vessel such as the Retribution will be given clearance to Earth orbit. Armed ships of Fargone and New Japan do not routinely enter the Solar System. The Commission and space powers may want to send somebody to inspect the ship of these new species, and may carry word of a refusal to grant traffic clearance."
"Well, we certainly never had this response before coming to file our claims," Gordon said.
"That was carefully weasel worded," Lee said. She looked upset. "And he avoided asking a lot of questions he could or should have asked, or at least requested you put in a drone message. Brownie, is he really going to jump out before our transmission could reach him?"
"System scan lists the ship as in-system, but censors the location of the picket ship. The delay suggests he was sticking with the main mining group, but he hasn't fired up his own radar at all, which would certainly locate him. He might even jump out behind the primary from us and not accept relayed messages. But he'd have to be boosting at over three G, and nobody wants to do that needlessly. You start to have a significant probability someone will have a medical emergency at that acceleration. It's not like we are in pursuit or shooting at him," Brownie pointed out.
"Yes, he seems anxious not to talk to us," Gordon agreed.
"I could illuminate that whole quadrant of the system with a full power ping," Thor offered from the Retribution. "If we catch an echo off him before he jumps we know he lied."
"No," Gordon decided. "Let's play the game. We don't want to tell him we know he's lying, nor turn things adversarial by using military power radar in a peaceful system. Let us see what else they say to us, thinking we are buying the story, before we contradict anyone."
"Notice, he says the Commission and the space powers may deny us permission to enter, without naming those powers,” Lee said. "He doesn't say we'll be met with armed force, but just implies it by saying there will be an alert. He sounds like a lawyer instead of a ship's captain."
"And what does all that tell you, if you were sitting this seat?" Gordon asked.
This struck Lee as one of those critical questions and a test, that would determine when or if she was ever going to be considered for command.
"I would consider myself informed that likely everything Captain Roosevelt told is fact, and much more to be learned he didn't tell us," Lee decided.
That seemed agreeable to Gordon. If she'd failed the question he'd have immediately turned it into a lesson. Instead he asked, "So would you send a drone as he urged us or just show up uninvited and see what sort of reception we get?"
"They may be a little sensitive to Gordon of Red Tree coming to Sol," Lee said as tactfully as possible. "The last time an armed Derf vessel went through North America got clobbered. They lost an orbital fort and an entire shipyard with work in progress. You scare the snot out of the Fargoers and you didn't even shoot at them. It may not seem credible to you, but they might panic. That's a bad thing."
"Ah, well... maybe," Gordon said, but tried to wave it away with a true hand. "Not to mention it was Thor doing that with a destroyer last time, and here he is back with a heavy cruiser. So drone it is instead of popping in to chat. But how do we make it a conciliatory message? We probably should reveal the High Hopes isn't in standard deep space explorer weapons configuration. I'm not sure how to pretty that up even if we left the Retribution here to wait for us."
"To whom do you send the drone?" Lee asked.
Gordon perked up at that. Perhaps that was an original thought and Gordon hadn't considered that question yet. Lee would love to get ahead of him for once instead of being predictable.
"Now that is a very interesting question. When we entered with the High Hopes before I just set the radio to the frequency listed in the Aid to Navigation and asked traffic control for clearance to Luna. I sort of assumed traffic control was associated with the Claims Commission, and directing from Luna or through relays, but nobody ever explicitly said so. You don't say what traffic control any more than you say 'Derf Station traffic control' when you enter the Derfhome system. You're tuned to the right frequency and you assume you have the right folks. Who else would be answering? Nobody ever asks 'by what authority are you directing traffic?'," Gordon said, looking thoughtful.
"Why not test what Captain Roosevelt said, and fail to mention the Commission. Just ask to speak to the Lunar authorities?" Lee asked.
"Not any specific one of the three?" Gordon asked, doing a fake copy of a Human eyebrow lift.
"I'm not sure from what Captain Precious Roosevelt said who is the main player among them," Lee said.
"What if they ask what the heck we are talking about, and tell us we should be asking the Claims Commission permission to land and file claims as it is always done?" Gordon asked.
"Then either Precious was wrong, or the Loonies don't want to acknowledge what he said publicly either. We'd just look like we're a bunch of rural rubes who don't know how to act in the big city and they'll set us straight. Do you really care what they think about you after everything we've been through with the Earthies?" Lee asked.
"Nah, if they think we're idiots maybe they'll underestimate us – again," Gordon said.
Chapter 25
"Traffic Control: The command vessel High Hopes out of Derfhome, an armed deep space explorer, and the Derf heavy cruiser Retribution escorting the unarmed alien vessel Dart with spox of the aliens races known informally as Badgers and Bills desire to meet with the Lunar authorities and have discussions before conducting some business with the Claims Commission. We are uncertain how to address this request and ask you relay it.
"Be aware please we have been followed for some time by a large vessel of another race displaying an interest in us. We have traded with them, but have very limited communications. They have been friendly and consider them under our protection as long as they remain unaggressive. The Derf commonly known as Gordon, commanding High Hopes. The Derf commonly known as Thor, commanding Retribution. The citizen of Derfhome known as Lee Anderson owner. Full Derf names on request. The Badger know as Fussy, commanding the Dart, and the Badger known as Talker spox for his race. The Bill known as Singer aboard Dart is seconded away from his vessel as spox for his race.
"We request permission for lunar orbit and landing for either High Hopes or her shuttle, and a meeting with those controlling Solar space outside L1.”
That was the fourth revision of their drone message. Everybody had input. Lee still quibbled she was only part owner of the High Hopes. Gordon insisted needless details detracted from the message and offered to sell his share to Lee.
That embarrassed Lee, making her remember a time they'd been in conflict that she'd rather forget.
"That's fine," she agreed, dropping her objection. "Send it."
Gordon sent the message via commercial drone, that being readily available one jump from Earth, and much cheaper than using one they carried and needing to recover it or have it sent back. It transmitted on arrival just like his would have.
* * *
There wasn't much to do waiting. The system was for mining, and so close to Earth people could go there on leave. A couple positions posted on the job board for one company offered a month-on month-off schedule. Lee decided she didn't want to know any more when it was vaguely listed as entertainer. There was a station, but it had three very small limited restaurants, a card hall, and a lot of stores for suits, mining equipment, ship parts and repair, electronics and hardware.
It looked like a really terrible place to live for any time at all and Lee saw no evidence people brought their family there to live at all. Even their Fargoers had no interest in going to the card shop and betting parlor. That had to be a first.
They had an off shift do a shift, but Gordon didn't set a light orbital watch.
Lee logged on to the local web when they took a turn at the bridge again. The local web was even more complete than their fleet fraction, although the rates were ruinous for an unrestricted search. She had money to burn so it didn't matter.
When she did a search on the System bank she got a company page that covered all three branches and one in Jupiter orbit. Not a moon, a free standing hab or station apparently. It still listed a Singh, Anderson and Lewis partners running it, so they kept it in the families. The page offered every other day account balancing with Earth for the miners in System 17, and versions in Chinese, Japanese, Hindi, German and Tongan. She hadn't wondered what they were mining, but the page gave a hint by having a link to quotes and commodities.
That proved to be a chart of last quote and recent history for USNA Dollars, Australian Group Dollar, Chinese Xìndài, New EuroMarks, and a dozen other currencies some of which Lee didn't even recognize. The Home Solar was listed with a ☼Au and a ☼Pt symbol and traded for over thirty-two thousand dollars USNA. A text line under them informed her ☼ x .80386 = Troy ounces. That was hardly handy, but there was a Home Bit with a symbol BtAg that approximated a tenth Dollar Ceres. Then a separate area was marked off and quoted raw comet water ninety day deliver at Home, Luna and Mars. Screened regolithic sintering iron was quoted by the metric ton for thirty day delivery but only Home and Luna.
"And we have our clearance," Gordon said suddenly. "Acceleration at a half G in five minutes. Forming up and ramping to eight tenths in another ten. Let's get this show on the road, folks."
Lee suddenly realized she should have been downloading and archiving a big reading list instead of downloading them and reading them one by one. She had seconds before they turned their drive to the mining station and ended her connection. She didn't want it relayed ahead and beamed back at them. It would triple the cost and Gordon would notice she hadn't thought to do it the easy way.
There was one thing that sounded really interesting about half way down the list. Lee clicked on it for one last thing to load. She could feel the ship turning slowly under her and she thought something was wrong and she wasn't going to snatch it, because it still showed loading for five or six seconds. It was the video file marked BBC about April Lewis. She'd just spent a good ten thousand bucks Ceres to load it.
The ship automatically paid their bills for all three vessels as they withdrew and announced departure to traffic control. Nobody noticed the data fees seemed a little high so that was good. Lee watched and listened to everything happening until they were away and in the groove. All three ships synchronized and running good for about an hour before she bothered Gordon.
"What sort of invitation did we get?" Lee finally asked.
Gordon put the text on the open command channel for her that went to the other ships too.
‘To the Third love son of the Four Hundred-Seventy Third First Mother of Red Tree, by the Hero of the Chain Bound Lands, Second line of the short haired folk, Gordon, and his first daughter Lee Anderson:
Your reputation precedes you, so that We look forward to meeting you. The Sovereign of Central is absent from the system and I am her voice and hand until she returns.
You are expected and need no further clearance. You are welcome to orbit Luna and use the field granted the Claims Committee for the High Hopes or any of your shuttles. They will be informed you have first landing rights. That will make your business after our meeting easier than landing at Central.
Our hospitality suite at the Holiday Inn Armstrong adjacent to the field will be available for your use. Our sworn man will pass you through the border of the Lunar Republic and see to your comfort. When you are adjusted and rested from any shift lag he will offer you transport to Central.
Personal weapons are normal among adults at Central, as are all weapons made safe against breaching pressure in the Republic.
We request you refrain from using targeting radar or lidar in orbit. A full uncensored system scan will be supplied upon which you may rely.
All the named persons in your request are welcome.
Lady April Lewis / Peer / Hanko file attached.’
"Wow, that reads like something out of a historic novel," Lee said.
"I suspect it an informal little note and she could have laid it on much thicker," Gordon said. "I've seen the Mothers do that at a formal gathering of clans, and it's a wonder to behold."
"Captain Roosevelt was right on the money," Lee decided. "Another April... I wonder if they have a regular formal line of descent that requires each new one of the line to take up the name? Gordon, I have video I downloaded just before we boosted. I've started looking at it, jumping ahead and running it fast. There's a lot of it, but you have to look at it before we see any of these people."
Gordon held down the mute on his com panel and spoke across to Lee. "Certainly, as you mentioned, it's on the money, as far as he went. I wish we'd had time to go to Fargone and interrogate Admiral Hawking."
"You're too nice," Lee told Gordon. "You can do questioning, but I'd have Thor do the interrogations."
"Or you," Gordon said, looking at her hard, which surprised her.
* * *
When their four vessels emerged into the Sol system in a synchronized military maneuver, nobody said boo. Gordon was pleased the Caterpillars were right on the tick with them as they'd been doing. It just looked sharper like they knew what they were doing. They didn't do it in tight to them, but nobody would notice, being too busy looking at a kilometer long starship.
They didn't have to wait for speed of light lag both ways insystem. There were manned traffic control nodes in the zones ships jumped into with pre-arranged clearances. Earth got a lot of traffic, and they sorted it out early. Gordon was prepared to transmit a copy of his invitation to them if there was any question. Instead Control asked if he had a preferred route or acceleration he's like to maintain? Gordon sat with his mouth hanging open for almost a full second, which was an eternity for him.
"If you can bring us in at seven tenths of a G most of the way, that what my crew are accustomed to," Gordon said.
"Very well. I'm sending you a proposed plot for that acceleration, and a little bit more the last half hour for orbital insertion. If you need to change that let us know please." There wasn't any waiting or coming in at holding points, or consolidating with other ships. Gordon did notice the line swept well clear of Earth and achieved an orbital insertion from the side of the moon opposite the Earth.
"Well, so this is how the upper crust live," Thor said. But on ship to ship, Lee was glad to see.
* * *
The Caterpillars seemed to be slightly intimidated by the traffic level and obvious signs of population on this living world. They hadn't taken The Champion William nearly as close to the living Caterpillar world they'd showed them. They must wonder why they'd be allowed in so close. Or after seeing what Human weapons did – maybe not. They meekly assumed exactly the same orbit as the others, but rearmost in line.
The cart that came to transport them was the same as when Gordon and Lee were here before. It was recent enough it might be the same cart. But when they saw their party was bigger they rushed another one out to carry everyone in comfort.
When they reached the lock it wasn't into the Claims Commission medical cubic like when they'd come to Earth before. They went straight to the entry that was beside the border from the extraterritoriality that belonged to the Commission and the Lunar Republic. After putting their suits in lockers, to which they kept the keys, a few of them added clothing over suit liners or changed.
The promised escort was waiting for them in pressure, offering to help if any of them needed anything in the locker room. He was dressed all in black with an odd jacket with a straight up collar, spex that looked subtly different, and shoes that were downright dainty, almost like ballet slippers. He also had on a brace of pistols, grips sticking forward from each side.
"I'm Gabriel," he said, with a slight bow. "My Lady has entrusted you to my care."
There was a cart outside waiting in the corridor, big enough for all of them. The seats could be folded down flat to create a padded area suitable for Derf. From where they boarded the blue strip marking the border was in sight. There were two guards on each side of the line, just as Lee remembered from before. They'd been held in medical isolation before and nobody had said a word about that yet. Lee didn't want to say anything out loud, but looking at Gordon he had that very alert look he got when expecting something to happen. She'd bet anything he was thinking the same thing.
When they rolled up to the line the guard on the Lunar Republic line stood at ease and didn't regard them at all. The Claims Commission guard held up a hand and stopped them. The man driving came to a smooth stop without argument.
"I see unknown species," the guard said, looking at the Badger and Bill genuinely concerned. "Do you have a quarantine release to leave the Claims Commission Area?"
Their escort held his hand out in a fist. There was a ring displayed on it, gold with a blood red stone.
"They are not entering from the Commission Field. They are entering from my Lady's field she allows you to use. They are no concern of yours, and I wear her ring, so my voice is as hers."
The man couldn't have jumped back any faster if fire had issued forth from the ring to singe him. Lee and Gordon turned their heads slowly to regard each other as they rolled through. Neither so much as lifted an eyebrow, but their thoughts were the same.
* * *
Lee and Gordon had stayed at the Holiday Inn before. They had no idea there was a private entry away from the public corridor with its own lifts. Their escort got out, hesitated a half step in front of one elevator and continued to the third which could have easily carried the whole cart on which they arrived, much less the extra burden of Gordon and Thor. Their luggage was left on the cart.
"We need seats," the man said upon entering and a whole line of them folded down along one side. “I'm sorry, I gave it no thought, but there is no accommodation for Derf," he said, embarrassed.
"Don't worry about it friend. I have an abundance of natural padding that follows me around," Gordon said, and he planted himself on it. He assumed it would be bit of a ride if sitting was needed.
The elevator moved gently, but definitely down, for what seemed an unusually long time. Then it felt like it turned and moved a bit horizontally. When it opened it was directly on their suite, not a corridor. Their luggage was sitting inside the door to the side. It had beaten them here. That was interesting.
The suite had a grand entry which led into a large common room. There were three mini-suites to each side with a small kitchen and informal dining room on each side. A large formal dining room was at the end on one side and a conference room and theater on the opposite side. The common room opened up wider as you went in deeper so it was approximately triangular.
Lee looked at the floor. It had an odd pattern she hadn't seen before. When she looked closer at it, it clicked. It was wood, in elaborate geometric squares. The furniture was arranged in groups on individual rugs. In the far corner was something she'd seen in videos, a grand piano.
The far wall across the back was glass, and Lee was impressed. "Wow, that's a stunning holowall. I wonder where the actual garden is located? Earth I'd imagine."
Gordon dropped his voice to an unusually strained and soft level, and told her, "I believe it is right there, behind the glass, Lee."
"Oh." They both stood there thinking. As much money as they both had, they tried to imagine what it cost to have a beautiful formal garden as big as the adjacent hospitality suite maintained on the moon. And this wasn't even their regular residence.
Gabriel was busy directing a couple hotel employees to distribute the luggage, but caught up with them and observed them looking at the far garden.
"There are entry doors at the ends of the wall if you desire to walk through the garden or there are several benches out of sight. I can have seating to accommodate you and Mister Thor installed if you wish," he offered Gordon.
"No mister is needed with our Human names," Gordon said. "I don't think we'll be here long enough to warrant that, but the offer is appreciated. We're all on the same shift clock. We're about six hours further into our day than you. I'm assuming Central is on the same time as the Republic?"
"Indeed, the Republic is on the same time as Central," Gabriel made a point of saying.
"Then I'll suggest to everyone we not stay up too late and if we don't have to get up too early we could go to Central tomorrow," Gordon suggested. "Is that convenient? We could linger a day if it would be easier."
"Linger a day?" Lee said. "I want to live here!"
Gabriel had the good sense and courtesy to laugh with joy. "It is lovely, isn't it?"
"Sure is," Lee agreed. "Especially to eyes tired of being in ship's spaces for too many days. We had a little break at Derfhome and I got to walk in the woods. But one does get cramped after awhile. I'm not that fond of planets, but too much of either gets to you."
"I'm sure it was much the same reasoning that prompted The Three to lay it out as it is," Gabriel agreed. "They have their fill of tight corridors and tunnels on occasion too."
Lee gave him a hard stare and a lifted eyebrow. "The Three? April Lewis, Heather Anderson and the guy, Jeff, what was his name?" Lee thought she heard capitals on it too.
"Your pardon, the phrase falls off my tongue too easily from frequent use. Singh is the name you are searching for," Gabriel supplied. "Some would address him as Lord Singh. I'll leave that for you to sort out. I have found he is not demanding about it. Indeed the Sovereign is given to harassing him about how easily he neglects being a peer."
"That's the same rank thing as April signing our message Lady?" Lee asked.
"Yes, but here are a number of other peers. You will be properly introduced to any who have that standing. There is no penalty attached to ignoring it. We deal with so many sovereign individuals, such as the citizens of Home, it would be awkward otherwise."
Lee thought about that a bit. "I'm not sure where I fit. I have lands on Providence where my word is absolute, but I am also a citizen of Derfhome who must abide by the Mothers' clan law in their keep."
"And what would happen with these Mothers if you did find yourself in conflict?" Gabriel wondered. He seemed fascinated with the question.
"Odd you should put it like that. I did find myself in considerable conflict with the First Mother when first I visited the clan," Lee admitted.
"And yet here you are still, and by your word still a clan member. How did you resolve it?"
"Well, we discussed solving it by dueling with hypervelocity pistols. But the other Mothers indicated they intended to vote her out before it went that far, so she retired. They still weren't all thrilled with me, but then the clan Champion came in and read them the riot act, declared himself my personal champion, and buried his ax in the dining room table, for them to sit and contemplate what that meant, while he went off to clean up for dinner. So everybody sort of backed up, as if we'd just come in, and started making nice-nice with Gordon and me."
That appeared to rattle Gabriel. "If that is not a privileged communication, may one share it?"
"Oh, sure. Lots of people have heard that story. So, Heather is an Anderson? I wonder if we are related somehow, back a ways?" Lee wondered. "But there must be a ton of them on Earth."
"Indeed, it is a very common name, particularly in certain Earth countries, but who knows? Some make a hobby, some an obsession, of tracing their genealogy. You could undoubtedly find out if it really interests you," Gabriel said.
"Nah, thanks but it was just a casual thought," Lee said.
"If you are deeper in your day, would you like dinner served a bit early?" Gabriel asked.
"I'm ready," Gordon assured him, before anybody else turned him down. "Are the kitchens there provisioned or does the hotel have to send stuff in?"
"The small kitchens are always stocked, but they are more for informal entertaining and when the staff has been dismissed for the night. I took the liberty of asking the hotel what your tastes were when you guested here before. The main kitchen behind the dining room laid in those items and the chef and his helper are already on duty to meet your needs. If you have special needs for your alien friends please tell us how to please them."
"I have a list of compatible foods, and they have some items in their luggage," Gordon said, getting his pad out. "Let me transfer the file to you and you can inform the staff. They'll have to tell you what they hauled along and if they want to save it for later or have it prepared."
Gabriel excused himself and went off to the kitchen to see to it.
"This is instructive," Gordon said, with a gesture that encompassed the suite.
"How so?" Lee asked, though she suspected the answer.
"I'm still not used to being rich," Gordon said. "The people who ordered this up are comfortable with it. They don't feel any need to apologize for having more than somebody else and can enjoy it without over-thinking it. I know in my head we could have a place like this maintained for us and never miss the expense. But I have no practice at doing it."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Lee agreed. "I can buy a starship and not twitch, but somehow that's different. Look at it as good training, I say."
"Alright, that's an interesting take on it. While our handler is away why don't we go find a screen and you can show me this video?" Gordon suggested.
"Sure, I haven't seen all of it yet myself," Lee said. "He mentioned a theatre back there?"
Chapter 26
The video was disturbing. Gordon had killed ships. Much bigger ships with more crew and much more violently and thoroughly. But far away and mostly hidden in the glare of their vaporization. Not at a distance he could throw a stone, with the sound track of their ship breaking up, the scream of alarms and escaping air, and voices yelling desperate futile commands.
The Chinese vessel huge in the view was a bent charred wreck. The pretty white space plane didn't look all that different than one of their own winged landing shuttles after all these years. Gordon knew in his heart it was lost, seeing the laser cut away its best defense and then carve an ulcer deep into its guts. The tiny missile just put it out of its misery instead of prolonging the agony of its death.
The space-armored Chinese officer invading their command after the fight was over was terrible security. He couldn't imagine failing to have his external locks secured in a hostile environment. He said as much to Lee, and that's when they became aware Gabriel was silently sitting behind them.
"The vessel was not purpose built as a warship," Gabriel quietly advised them. "Indeed at the time there was no provision to deny anyone entry, because having access to the lock was a primary safety imperative. Of course a Derf couldn't fit through that lock. They are rare now, but they are so confining the common term for them is a coffin lock."
"Why make it so confining?" Lee asked.
"The Happy Lewis was tiny. The more so before later modifications and the insertion of a larger freight module. The orbital scooter from which it was created didn't have a lock. The cabin when they purchased it was only capable of pressurization if it was being used as an ambulance. They could bring it up to pressure to stabilize a patient but the air was sacrificed once they reached their destination."
"I'd be afraid to be unsuited in that small of a volume anyway. It can lose pressure faster than you can get in a suit. Not sure I'd even want to have my pot off," Lee decided, patting her head.
"Your instincts are good," Gabriel assured her. "If you wouldn't mind pausing for a bit, I came to tell you your dinner is ready."
"You've seen this before?" Lee asked.
"I doubt anyone of our household has failed to view it," Gabriel said. "If you wish me to, I can return with you and provide commentary about anything dated and confusing."
"Sounds good to me. You want to take a break and eat, Gordon?"
"Ha! You have to ask?" He voice paused the video and followed Gabriel to the larger dining area.
* * *
They had Gordon pegged dead on for his tastes, Lee immediately knew. Not only was there a whole ham scored and singed, gloriously presented in a ring of fruit, but it was right in front of the two pads at the table for seating Derf. You could just remove Gordon's place setting and drag the whole thing over to him and he wouldn't complain at all.
"I'm surprised the hotel keeps records this long of what someone ordered for dinner," Lee said.
"My Lady, they even take note of what was not eaten, to have some idea what was found unpleasant, without having to inquire of their guests," Gabriel explained.
"You don't have to 'My Lady' me," Lee said looking a little scandalized.
"As you wish. It fell off my lips naturally, having heard the tale of your clan adaption. If you would inform me how I am privileged to address you, I'll follow that form," Gabriel promised.
"You talk real pretty," Lee said. "Or I suppose I should say – You are most gracious in your speech, sir," putting on a dead flat poker face and steepling her fingers together. She added a barely discernible inclination of her head.
Gabriel gagged on his laugh and covered his mouth. Unprepared for the transformation.
"You... are going to do just fine," he told her.
"She's watched a lot of period videos," Gordon explained.
* * *
Talker and Singer weren't disinvited to the theatre, but when Gordon and Lee marched off with Gabriel without a word they suspected their absence was desired. For their part Gordon and Lee both wondered if they should show their allies this video before they went to Central, or at all. It was pretty brutal. Neither had seen anyone killed with a sword.
"Who was that maniac who drove the sword through front and back of an armored spacesuit?" Lee asked. "He didn't look like the muscular sort you'd expect to have the strength."
"People can display extraordinary strength when in the grips of an adrenaline surge," Gabriel testified. "Also the sword, though antique, almost defines sharp. A lot of the household have a gene-mod for increased strength now. It's one of the more popular modifications."
"I wasn't aware such a thing was available," Lee said, shocked and interested.
"I've said too much," Gabriel admitted. "When you had the video I assumed you knew other things. You should discuss this with Lady Lewis. I will say, because you should know, such alterations are prohibited on Earth and Mars. Indeed beyond being merely illegal, they are an item of loathing and religious prohibition. They'd arrest you on entry if they were detected."
"Well, that seems stupid," Lee said. "What business is that of anybody else?"
Gabriel smiled. "As I said, you'll do just fine."
* * *
When Gabriel was gone until the morning, Gordon called the hotel concierge and arranged for a bonded courier to take a memory module to Green, Bennett and Glenn in New York. The data was for the firm to prepare their Claims, and Gordon hadn't wanted to send such a huge file, basically their whole voyage log, from the High Hopes even with high level encryption.
Lee went to work on the hotel data link, determined to download everything she could find about The Three, Home, The Central Kingdom and The Lunar Republic. Whatever she learned from their interview tomorrow she wanted a catalog from different sources to compare and double check what she was told. Her dad had put her onto a study of history when they were all still exploring together. His idea had been to start her from the beginnings of written history and bring her forward to the present. Such a course of study might have worked well. She was sure it appealed to his linear mindset, if only it hadn't been interrupted by his and her mother's deaths.
Except for personal interest outside her lesson plans, she hadn't progressed in detail beyond the Greeks, with foreshadowing of the Romans much in evidence in her lessons. She did have a personal fascination with sailing ships and their history. But she would probably would never go back and pick up her formal studies again. Right now she was finding that starting at the present and going back would have been more useful. The rise of civilization in the Fertile Crescent was very well and interesting, but what happened last century had suddenly assumed much more importance.
Lee sourced material from European, Asian and South American sources, going light on North American news and academic texts, because her own experience with North American hospitality had left a bad taste in her mouth. She's been fostered to distant relatives for a summer in Michigan, and what passed for the free news and public study channels available to negative tax people hadn't impressed her either. The other sources might have biases too, but at least she could compare their biases.
She could easily stay up all night doing data searches, but she had a lot more money than sleep time. Instead Lee picked a shotgun approach, loading entire decades of certain news channels with anything that had a few dozen key words. It was still loading when she went to bed, and the pad indicated it would finish halfway through the night and use about a third of her memory. She'd never come anywhere near loading that much on her hand pad.
In the morning Lee rolled over, checked her pad and told the AI program she hardly ever used to search all the material loaded and assemble the ten most common topics contained in the references that she had not set as search terms the evening before, and load all those for the same sources and decades. Gods only knew what that was going to cost, and probably fill her pad three quarters full. But she wanted it.
An Artificial Stupid would grab some idiotic things like the price of fast food or the evolution of shoe styles, but it would likely find some pay dirt also. Lee cleaned up and got ready to have breakfast. Nobody had told her to dress specially so she wore a shirt with pockets and brush pants. Shorty boots and high end spex. She clipped her pad on her belt. It never occurred to her it would be out of range to pull data. This was civilization after all.
Since the invitation specified weapons for adults she wore the special knife Gordon bought for her on their first Derfhome trip. It was fancy pattern Damascus and bejeweled, a cabochon final on the hilt and lapis balls held in silver claws for a guard. A plain Jane 6mm went in a cross draw holster, the first time she'd worn it in awhile. She still got mistaken for a kid. The gun should prevent that today.
Gordon, on the other hand, limited himself to a utilitarian ax in his belt.
Before Lee walked out for breakfast she checked the pad to see what it was pulling in. The three top searches that surprised her were asteroid mining, life extension therapy, and influenza. Good thing her pad could do multi-threading. It would start other strings she was sure. To her mind she hadn't touched on either of those items in her key words yesterday. Maybe she should have asked for another day just to do these searches and skim them. Too late now.
* * *
Gabriel was back, or maybe he stayed in the hotel, Lee thought. She wasn't sure how long it took to get to Central. He'd just sat and had coffee when they ate last night, assuring them he wasn't hungry yet, but he'd waited, or more likely Gordon had invited him, and he was eating with them this morning. He was dressed much like yesterday, but a little fancier. He had on what looked like a silk shirt with gold buttons rimmed with tiny gold beads and a neck chain with a gold coin hanging she didn't recognize.
They entered a limo almost big enough to call a bus through a short boarding tube at the private rear entry lock at the Holiday Inn. The trip wasn't that long. It just seemed to take forever when frozen in fear. Starships went fast when they didn't displace instantaneously. But they didn't pass between outcroppings of rock that looked to come within centimeters of the road.
Ships didn't dive through tunnels that looked like a black target on the mountainside. They didn't suit up either, trusting this vehicle to maintain pressure. Something she was pretty sure it wouldn't do if it smacked any of those rocks. The road looked narrow, and when they passed a vehicle going the other way it was a streak that passed before the eye could even focus on it. Their limo had wheels.
Lee remembered riding a hotel bus on Earth. It had seemed to go maybe ten meters a second, and stopped a lot. When she asked Gabriel how fast the limo went he said somewhere around five hundred kilometers an hour. She tapped it in her pad because she couldn't think straight looking out the front viewports and got a little under a hundred forty meters a second. That was the same as the Earth bus for any reasonable discussion. It felt like a different order of magnitude.
When they arrived they left through a short walkway that sealed right to their limo, just like they'd boarded. Inside it looked more like the lobby of their hotel she remembered from her previous visit. They'd never seen it this trip, but Gabriel assured her it was public spaces. There was quite a bit of greenery and the most surprising a delicate fountain that changed constantly with indirect lighting.
There were groups of public elevators clustered. Lee saw people consulting a screen beside some and sitting at a bench to await its arrival. Other elevators opened and she saw they were furnished nicely as their limo or better. One elevator opened and was big enough to carry vehicles. There was s line of cargo carts waiting to board it.
Gabriel, however, took them to a corridor instead of directly to an elevator. The corridor had a guard shack, that's what Lee was pretty sure its function was. A kiosk sitting square in the center of the corridor entry with a lip around it that had about a meter of thickness to it, before a thick transparent cylinder continued to the overhead. There didn't seem to be any hatch, so they must enter from a lower level. When Lee looked up there was a concentric circle in the overhead around the clear tube.
Gabriel was acknowledged by one of the two guards inside before they were very close. They obviously knew him by sight. He still made a gesture that displayed the ring, but it seemed a formality. They walked right past in a group without a pause.
Lee became aware Gabriel was watching her inspection. "Does the overhead come down and seal off against the ledge to seal them off in an emergency like a sleeve?" she asked him, with hand gestures to try to illustrate what she meant.
"Good guess, but the whole assembly drops down to the next level if things go really bad. The part you pictured as a sleeve follows it down and plugs the hole for about ten meters deep."
"Ten meters? What are you expecting? A nuke attack?" Lee wondered.
"That would handle a small one," Gabriel allowed. "The last time they bombed us here the crater was over two hundred meters deep, and I doubt being four or five hundred deep would have saved anybody. Any excavation would have collapsed. But if they can get just a few minutes warning there are slide tunnels they can dive into and get far enough down to be safe."
"Here?" Lee asked to be certain, pointing at the deck, er, floor.
"Yes, the Chinese were sending a punitive force to Home, and Heather objected to them being in her sky. They'd breached the L1 limit," Gabriel stopped and asked, "You are apprised there is an L1 limit?"
Gabriel stopped and put his hand on a plate. It was ceramic, so it wasn't a print reader. A DNA taster, very high security. They didn't have to wait; the doors opened right up.
"Yes, we were told that by a Fargoer captain," Lee admitted, "but the more I find out the more it seems I don't know. I wish I'd had more time to research it before I sound like an idiot to your Lady."
"Most of it can be found with a diligent search of public sources, but not of course from China or North America. They got their hands slapped and they censor and feed their public... nonsense."
Lee was pretty sure he avoided using a stronger expression.
There was an actual couch and a bar with drinks and snacks. Pads for the Derf and Human seats that served the aliens well enough. A small comconsole and a big screen with an environmental feed on it. This time it definitely was Earth, not a window to fool her. Gabriel took the couch and she joined him. She could tell from the cant of his ears Gordon was listening.
"So they bombed the snot outta you here," Lee backtracked. "What happened to the 'punitive' force?"
"There were four ships, three died. One decided to defect and sought asylum at Home. A very good thing for me, because I lived on Home then," Gabriel said.
Lee remembered the list of ships lost. There was a cluster of Chinese losses, four, or was it three? Destroyed in lunar orbit. But that was way too early for Gabriel to be living on Home, unless she remembered wrong, or the data was bad, or he lied... She didn't have her pad set to run veracity, and she didn't want to stop and check dates or change the settings. Gabriel might be any number of things, but she could tell he wasn't stupid. Somehow she was pretty sure he wasn't lying. He had no reason to, and she didn't have the experience of Gordon, but she could already pick up on the facial hints and body language when somebody was lying. Unfortunately her short stay on Earth gave her a lot of intense instruction. But how could it be?
Her own face must have been telling on her, because Gabriel was watching her long silence.
"I suspect you will want to have April explain about life extension therapy, and how it has affected our relationship with Earth," Gabriel suggested.
"Thank you. I've been doing massive data searches the last couple days, and life extension therapy is one of the secondary searches my AI initiated today from yesterday's results." Surely that didn't mean what he was implying...
"Don't be shy to ask April to explain everything to you. She can tell you the straight stuff in a half hour it'll take you a month to suck out of the data. She won't talk down to you like some would."
"You say April instead of My Lady when you get informal," Lee noted.
"If I were speaking with her voice I'd be formal," Gabriel assured her. "That was just Gabriel speaking to you expressing my own opinion."
"Thank you for your help," Lee said sweetly.
"You're welcome, but you're not sure you believe me yet," was his appraisal.
"I believe you enough not to have set my pad to listen and verify," Lee said to soften it.
"All that tells you is if I believe it, not whether it is true," Gabriel pointed out.
What could she say? That was a fact. Lee realized they'd been dropping a long time.
"How far down are we going?" Lee asked.
"A few kilometers," Gabriel answered vaguely.
"In case they bomb you again?" Lee said, a little flip, and then regretted it.
"Our people survived before, much shallower, though offset a bit. It took a lot of effort to fill the crater back in and rebuild the road system. Jeff was thinking about building a beanstalk here; the crater and the attack made him rethink that. He decided we were too close to Earth to offer them such an easy target. I think they now know that if they, China or any other Earth powers, attack us on that scale again we'll destroy them. China came within a hair's breadth of provoking that back then. They've exhausted our patience."
He looked at Lee directly again. "You know, Home used to be in Low Earth Orbit. That's why we moved out around L2, because they couldn't refrain from sniping at us."
"I don't seem to remember that, but I'm building up a picture of events," Lee said.
Gabriel just gave a curt nod.
Gordon spoke up from his seating pad. "How old are you, Gabriel?" The directness shocked Lee.
"One hundred thirty three years, next month. Standard Earth years," Gabriel said.
"That makes sense then," Gordon said with a little nod of his own.
"Why does it make sense?" Lee had to ask him. It certainly didn't make sense to her.
"He looks thirty. Maybe I'm not as good judging age with Humans as Derf, but I don't think I'd be off more than five years at the most, either way. You're smart Lee, and getting more insight and wisdom at a scary rate. Of course you are having more opportunity to learn than most. But I see your limitations all the time. I don't say anything. Not unless I can actually benefit you with it. Some things I know you're just not ready to absorb. But, Gabriel... He's just too damn smart – deep down experienced smart – it isn't just native intelligence, it's... too poised, for thirty."
"He believes," Gabriel told Lee.
"I'm not sure I do yet," Lee admitted. "Then, April is the same April we saw in the video? Not her granddaughter?"
"Indeed, April has granddaughters, but she wouldn't want them to live here, next to the slumball."
"Then why does she?" Lee asked.
"I'll let you ask her yourself if you have the nerve. I've always been afraid she'd answer by agreeing it was time to move on. Not that she doesn't go out system. But the three rotate somebody in to watch their interests on a regular basis. I don't want to encourage them to abandon the system," Gabriel said.
"There must be a definable reason," Lee insisted.
"If you think you see one after meeting her, run it past me. We'll see if you are as perceptive as Gordon credits you," Gabriel offered.
Gabriel stood up and Lee realized she had been so engrossed in the exchange she hadn't felt them stop.
Chapter 27
When the doors opened, They're trying too hard to impress me, was Lee's first thought. Then her native skepticism failed, and she had to admit they'd succeeded.
The room was circular and domed up high. Carved of native stone. Not fitted blocks, rather cut from a monolith. It was about sixty meters across, not huge, but entirely empty. The floor was paved in patterned polished stone. Contrasting colors making a compass rose. Four high peaked arches marked doorways on the cardinal points that would have done a medieval cathedral proud.
The lighting was indirect. Spread somehow on the curved dome surface. Probably from behind the heavy framing shapes around the doors. The four quadrants of the dome up above the door tops had murals painted, showing scenes from both Central and its predecessor Home.
"It's a whispering gallery," Gabriel told Lee. Then seeing her incomprehension explained. "If you stand at exact opposite points, the intercardinal points work best, you can speak in the softest voice and the dome focuses the sound to the other person. Our engineer read about them researching what to build and had to try it."
They started across the polished stone floor. Lee's friends were lagging behind a little, staring. By the time they reached the middle she realized the swish, swish, swish noise was from Gabriel. She stopped and looked down at his feet. He was grinning.
"My footies have a special sole. If you lean forward the front part grips when you pull back and slides forward easily. I can make better time on our floors than most people can ice skating." He demonstrated by taking a couple hard steps, making a sweeping circle with overlapping steps, and coming to an abrupt stop on his heels hands thrown out, showing off.
"You're pretty frisky for a hundred and thirty year old guy," Lee allowed, rounding it off.
"The life extension is not just cosmetic. I'm quite able," Gabriel said, wagging his eyebrows and giving her his best grin.
She hadn't meant it like that, and felt her face burn. "I'm too young... " Lee said, and had every intention to add, 'for you', but failed to finish it. "I grew up away from society, and when I finally visited Earth they didn't leave me trusting others of my kind very much. Gordon tells me I still need a great deal of socialization." That was as much explanation as she was going to offer.
"Ah, My Lady had a similar vacation to Earth about the same age as you. She found their hospitality rather wanting too," Gabriel said, grimly.
Lee found her palms sweaty and wiped them down the sides of her shirt, regretting the display of nervousness as soon as she did it, unthinking. She jammed her thumbs under her belt as if that's what she intended to do all along, elbows out. Standing aggressively.
Gabriel started, struck for some reason. He did the oddest thing, turning to her and stepping to look at her straight on.
"I'll try to remember to compare notes with her on that," Lee promised, and stepped around him, forcing him to turn to keep up.
They passed straight ahead through the north portal. It proved to lead to a series of buttresses, each set of which met at the top like the first doorway. There were alcoves to each side between them, some dark, some occupied with furnishings and office equipment and a very few people working at something. One was a library of old fashioned paper books. In another a gentleman was sitting practicing violin. When they got to the end it was a throne room, but a very strange one. April sat at a desk with a computer station on a platform. She could turn and accept someone approaching without the desk between them. A band of carpet ran from in front of the steps up right to the chair.
The large adjustable leather chair looked much more comfortable than any storybook throne Lee had seen. It made sense and was functional. But Gabriel stopped before the steps and checked over his shoulder to make sure he hadn't lost anyone.
When April turned to regard them it was apparent the chair was powered like a pilot's seat. It struck Lee to the core when she saw April face on. She was the same woman in the video, not a descendant. Her face was fuller now, more mature, but the same nose and freckles, the same reddish color of hair. It was longer than the boyish short cut in the video. Rather than flipped up on the front edge it was layered and swept back, like a wavy lion’s mane. It flowed over the tops of her ears a bit, but still showed the same sort of gold hoops she'd favored before. She was really starting to believe this story.
April made a little come here gesture with her cupped hand and Gabriel climbed the stairs and approached her. So, that's how it works, Lee thought. Gabriel was speaking too low for her to eavesdrop. He however made a gesture back towards her and touched his spex. They both turned and looked at the computer screen. It wasn't turned so Lee could see it, and April looked back at her and smiled. Was she now an object of humor? Had she misinterpreted Gabriel's facial antics and he wasn't flirting? Serious or not, maybe now he thought it funny she imagined he could find her attractive. Lee started getting irritated the longer they smiled at the screen.
"Do I amuse you?" Lee finally asked, in a tone that should have left them coated in hoary frost.
They both looked surprised. Unaware how she was taking it. April did the same come here gesture with her. "You astonish us because you look just like me in the capture Gabriel did with his spex. Come see. We're not disrespecting you, it's a wonder."
The screen showed April standing in hatch. Not an airlock, maybe a much older elevator. She wasn't in a pressure suit like in the BBC video, but dressed in the same black beaded outfit as the still Lee had. That other pic was obviously a cropped single frame from the same time or cut from video. It showed the whole outfit down to below the knees. She had things hung on her belt and a huge freaking knife with a handle like the one over her shoulder jammed under the belt.
Nobody would ever mistake them for sisters, but April was glaring at the lens, thumbs hooked in a wide belt with an elaborate closure, elbows and shoulders thrown back with attitude. Lee on the split screen looked old fashioned, like she was dressed for something like safari, but her body language and killer gaze was a perfect mirror. She looked like a stranger to herself.
"Back when that picture was freshly available the kids on Earth copied the style and drove the authorities nuts," April remembered. "Drove me nuts that they copied me too. The kids were banned from malls and such. Your pic would probably do the same. It's been long enough it would be fresh to the kids again, but now all public cosplay is banned. They'd all end up in juvenile detention."
"Oh my. I wasn't actually trying to uh, project like that," Lee said.
"Neither was I," April agreed, flicking her hand at her old image.
"Well there is something there in common that is... leaking, ladies," Gabriel said skeptically.
They both looked at him until he took a step back and showed his palms.
"He has been useful," Lee admitted.
"That's as much as one can expect," April agreed.
Gabriel hurried to introduce the rest of the party, uncomfortable when he became the subject. Lee noticed April didn't invite the whole mob up on her platform. Then April surprised her all by making sure the Badgers and Bills knew Lee and Gordon were newly met to her, just like them.
"Have you been treated well?" Was nothing they expected to be asked. It was obvious they were neither prepared nor comfortable with the question. They looked at each other, trying to decide if it was worse to speak first or let the other have that turn.
April looked suspicious at their reticence. "They don't report to me," she told the aliens. "I don't know a great deal about their character, and I'm always concerned about people's ethics foremost when I meet them and consider doing business or associating. If they issue a report or publish their voyage log it still doesn't speak to who they are and what was said and done in private. Have you complaints? Because I can see you home safe if you've been under any duress."
That was quite the claim right there. Lee had already decided she was misinformed about the balance of powers in the Solar System. For April to say she could take charge of them and return them home to the deep unknown, was either arrogance or confidence in a shocking level of power.
Talker looked at the floor. "I'm embarrassed to say Gordon has treated us better than we treated each other. When we squabbled like children I was afraid he was going to put us out to walk home. Lee informs me the proper idiom is that he 'knocked heads together until we saw some sense'. It's a marvelous language for horribly blunt statements. One of the crew said that when you damn someone to hell in English they can feel the flames on their toes. It was getting a bit warm."
The Bill just nodded agreement, not as eloquent yet with words as gestures.
Lee had been instructed how to conduct an interrogation by frontal assault with big questions that couldn't be tip-toed around. Even Gordon looked a bit taken aback. There was no chit-chat and getting to know each other. Seemingly no interest in doing business either.
"OK, you're all good with each other, the Derf have a treaty and are at peace with North America again, you've come to file claims with the Commission. You could have sent an unarmed ship in to do that without needing my intervention. I'm happy to meet the fellow who whipped North America's butt. Home did back when we rebelled, you know. I suspect they'll forget you did so almost as fast as they did with us." April played one handed with her chin, thoughtful. "Is there something we can actually do for you besides a pleasant meet and greet and offer you lunch?"
Lee looked at Gordon, and he didn't seem disposed to speak like she hoped. She sure was on the spot up here with April, those shrewd hazel eyes regarding her patiently.
"We want the truth," Lee said, making April look alarmed for the first time. But she didn't interrupt or try to turn it away with a joke. Instead she leaned back, body language saying she'd listen.
"Gordon and I have claims that have paid us very well. We're both rich from them. The Badgers and Bills we've brought along intend to negotiate to use the same Claims system now that our borders are in contact. We hoped for that to remove possible conflict. They have even ceded a cone of space towards us as off limits besides our direct line of our flight to them. They represent a few other species back home too.
"They're peaceful. Despite what Talker said about squabbling, they mixed and traded with unarmed ships until recently. Now they are plagued with a newly met race that raids on them and disrupts their trade and exploration. That's another reason they are here. To get weapons to defend their ships.
"We were in last hour count to leave and a Fargoer captain dumped the information on us we may not be allowed enter the Solar System armed. We don't have any unarmed ships to send anymore, April. We'd have had to stop and strip something bare. But the big thing is Captain Roosevelt destroyed our understanding of the entire balance of power and political stability of the system and the Claims Commission we've been advocating. We'd never heard of the L1 limit for armed Earth ships, or them needing clearance to cross the system to jump.
"Oh, Captain Roosevelt and several other Fargoer ships were at Derfhome because the North Americans sent a warship to perch on Derfhome station. We think it is intimidation, so what you said about them forgetting they were whipped is right on the money.
"How can we still advocate the Badgers and Bills joining our claims scheme? We have huge claims ourselves. How can we submit them and lose control of them if the system is a sham and you and your Lunar friends are the real hidden powers of the Solar System? I'm pretty sure we still don't have the full picture, and this is the first time our new allies have heard any of this," Lee said waving a hand at them.
"Captain Roosevelt intimated Fargone has agreements with you he wouldn't detail. We didn't feel like telling our new friend's spox that maybe we had no idea what we were talking about and queering the whole deal. Do we need a deal with you like the Fargoers? Do the Badgers and Bills? What the hell is going on? And to complicate things we find out you live way too long."
That last made April smile.
"Oh, and incidentally, we found traces of another race that builds tremendous big spaceships similar to the one following us around and we had to blow one of them to hell and gone. So be aware we might have an entire new civilization pissed at us too. I think that covers the big stuff," Lee said.
Talker muttered a long stream of something definitely not English and covered his eyes with both hands. His snout sticking out was half open in dismay, tongue sticking out a little.
"I bet that doesn't translate as 'Oh, goody'," April guessed.
"It's more – 'Screaming little gods of the Hot Mamas' – but not an expression of joy, no," Lee said.
"You got some of their tongue too? Interesting. This... may take a while. Gabriel, bring the court benches over here so we can allow them to sit. Talker looks like he needs to sit anyway. Call cook and tell her we need lots of coffee and a light luncheon buffet. Ask and endeavor not to poison our guests. Oh, then fetch me my unsigned hard copy of "The History of Home and the Lunar Powers – Illustrated" by Paddington."
* * *
April got up and paced the edge of her platform, while her guests were served coffee, seated on plain backless benches pulled up close. The Bill, Singer, abstaining. The benches were wood, expensive and rare. Lee noticed they had one wide enough for Derf.
When Gabriel returned with her book she handed it off to Lee right away, casually informing her it was a gift, and surprised them again by sitting on the edge of her platform with her own coffee, abandoning the chair so far back to loom over her guests much closer. Lee, uncomfortable standing, sat beside her. There was no objection it broke protocol.
"Where to start?" April said aloud. For them to know it wasn't simple, Lee was sure.
"We are not any hidden power running the Solar System. Maybe in the absolute sense we could destroy the Earth nations if we wished, but that is very clumsy tool. If we were monsters we might have done that several times. You can't remove them with violence, down to a level where we have the numbers to replace them, and not severely damage the mother planet. It's a wonderful treasure of a complex planet.
"At most we can influence them on occasion, by picking very important events. There is no way we can manage their overall activities. Expressing a occasional veto over some adventure of which we strongly disapproved is about all we can manage."
"Could you give us an example?" Lee asked.
"Sure. We made it clear we would not accept mining the outer system of a star that had sentients, not even an aboriginal species who displayed no interest or progress towards a technological civilization. It's theft. We privately told them we would blockade such a system and not let anybody in if they tried it. You simply can't push them like that too often or they'll get tired of it and make war on you, and it works best if there are those in their own population supporting the idea too.
"In the early days, up to the L1 declaration, we were just trying to retain our new independence and keep them from re-subjugating us. Then some damned fool with religious motivations noticed that we scum, defiling the heavens, had the highest percentage of people with life extension therapy. He crafted a virus to kill people with the modifications. It worked too well. Almost all the modified people on Earth died if they didn't make it to space. All the people who had the funds to buy it in the first place. The smart people, innovators, leaders and just plain pushy, which is an underrated ability.
"Losing a third of their population, and the best of them, they've never came back to be as big a threat to us again. It is interesting that the genes for all but the most extreme forms of intelligence are common enough we saw a recovery forming in three generations.
"The Earthies don't like us. They didn't when I was a girl and it has been reinforced each generation until it is as set as any of the old ethnic conflicts. Lots of people on Earth still blame us for the epidemic. But they blame us for everything from extreme weather to the high price of luxury goods.
"We hoped to limit them and contain them before they burst forth upon the stars with all their longstanding problems. Mainly we were working on getting there first, and then we imagined we'd dictate an exclusion zone like L1. We hadn't even met any aliens yet at that point and already were worried about the Earth powers finding them and making war on them and exploiting them, since that's how they treat each other, and tried to treat us.
"Then the Brazilians invented the jump drive," April said, and sighed.
"You didn't have it yet?" Gordon said, looking surprised.
"No, worse they didn't keep it secret either. Everybody had the theory in less than two years, even if they didn't have the infrastructure to build it yet. There was no doubt at all they would all war with us if we tried to keep them bottled up inside L1. They could have sacrificed ninety percent of their population and still outnumbered everyone off Earth a thousand to one.
"We still have hopes Humanity will grow up, learn to be better, before we run into somebody or something that won't put up with any nonsense and tries to exterminate us. An outside race might not have our sentimentality. Of course they might make Earth Humans extinct too.”
"But not Space Humans?" Lee asked.
"We have a few colonies, deep as you are fond of saying," April revealed. "We would be a lot tougher to make extinct too. The race is fairly safe now I think."
"Did you start the Claims Commission system?" Talker asked.
"No! They had the sense to do that, which gives me hope they can eventually reform other things if given the time." April pause and added, "And good examples. They need the resources and this funnels them to Earth without robbing the discoverers completely. We're happy to see a controlled situation instead of the waste of piracy and conflict there’d be in every direction if there was no Commission."
"Then I bet your colonies are not on the Claims roster," Lee decided.
"Of course not," April agreed. "We hold them entire, not just a cut of the action."
"Do your ships jump out from rest instead of running to jump?" Gordon asked.
"That is something we can discuss when you are a citizen of Home, or sworn to the Sovereign of Central," April offered.
"But not the Lunar Republic, and you'd take a Derf?" Gordon wondered.
"The Republic is a buffer with Earth that we protect. We'll take any person who can support himself, learn our customs sufficiently that somebody doesn't call him out for being an ass, leading to banishment or death, and volunteer to pay his taxes," April counted off on her fingers.
"I have a selfish interest in living as long as possible," Talker admitted, hesitant to speak. "You suggest your ships are secret with Gordon. Is this life extension therapy secret too? On what terms is it available? Perhaps doled out to limited numbers? I can see where if the increase is very great it might destroy a civilization with over population."
"Most of the authorities on the planet below would agree with you, " April told him.
Lee wondered if Talker could tell from April's sardonic expression that it was an old wound.
"Nothing about life extension therapy is secret, here or in the Republic. I surprised you could contain yourself that long before asking about it. You have to be functionally insane not to want it. At least to me – rejecting it is just slow suicide. You can easily buy treatment on Home, or on Fargone if you are a citizen. That's one of our quiet agreements with them.
"How much of the technology applies to your species is the immediate question. Most of it works at the molecular level. As far as I know this is the first time Derf have been told the truth about the matter too. But be prepared to spend some serious money on research. With top notch guys from both species working on it. We can offer help through quiet agreements like Fargone has, if you seem reasonable partners.
"On Earth, it's different. Only a few small countries failed to ban all genetic modifications. You might be able to get something done in Switzerland. But if you did you could never leave the country. The information is censored. If you try to look anything up you are denounced as a conspiracy theorist. If you tried to gather information as a health professional you'd be discredited professionally and removed from practice.
"All you will find easily, in public data, are historic accounts of horrible errors where genetic modification created new disease, or effects like mental illness. Some of them are true, which makes it harder to advocate. The old texts at colleges are restricted for 'public safety'. Get the picture?"
"But, surely there are people who figure it out. How can you get millions of people to all accept a shorter life, and really believe in it as a good thing?" Lee objected.
"Billions," April corrected. "There are a few who get around the censoring, and figure it out. A few even make it off Earth and get treatment. A couple hundred a year. Very rich people who fake their deaths to protect their kids from retribution and public shame. Their private plane vanishes over the ocean, or they die skiing or something and it's a closed casket funeral. The average person on Earth never has funds to fly on an airplane, much less lift to orbit and have enough wealth to start over. The average person believes the government stories that life extension therapy drives you crazy, gives you cancer, and leaves you at risk of dying horribly from the flu. It's also a useful lie for them to explain why all the spacers are crazy.
"Behind all of this is the firm belief that if life extension ever became common they'd run out of resources and the economy would collapse into a great die-off in a generation. Some think behavior would change with longer life. But they're honestly afraid to find out if their models are accurate or not. The economy already dips between discoveries as it is."
"They are that incapable of questioning, of skepticism?" Lee asked, dismayed.
"If you are raised immersed in deceit, it takes a good mind and a strong will to break free. They do have control down to a mature science unfortunately." April looked thoughtful and played with her chin again, obviously a favorite mannerism.
"In historically recent times they have forced other official opinions on the herd you would find just as lacking in credibility. For near a century they dumped rat poison in the public water supply to promote a reduction in dental caries. People just drank it up. They promoted the idea men and women are not any different and any differences in physical strength or mental talents should be ignored as a matter of law. They indoctrinated small children in that in the public schools. It hasn't worked yet, but most of them still pretend.
"The official government advice on health matters and nutrition may have killed as many as their wars. They've crashed the economy again and again with overspending, so often nobody of any intelligence is surprised any more. They just revalue the money, or come out with a new issue under a new name if it's beyond revaluing, and start the cycle over again. The abuse the public will absorb is astonishing," April said.
"In our system if somebody mismanages resources that badly his relatives will assassinate him to save the heritage of the estate," Talker said.
"Pretty much the same with Derf. If the Mothers go that bad they get the ax," Thor said, with a graphic slash of his hand.
"We haven't messed up bad enough to have that happen here, yet. It's all your Lady this, and your Lordship that, here at Central, but if we went bonkers and said that all our subjects would hence forth be vegetarians or some such stupidity, I have no doubt we wouldn't live to see the morning. These damn Loonies are an ornery bunch," April informed them. "Why don't we break and have a bite? I'm a little hollow already."
Gordon was quick to second that.
* * *
April led them back to the first alcove along the entry hall where it was bright now, and a table was set. There were two buffet tables, one for the Humans and Derf, the other for the Badger and Bill.
"Gordon's people gave us the latest list of safe foods," April said. "Come back in ten years and we can have a real feast, but I'm afraid we're somewhat limited today."
"It doesn't appear we'll starve," Talker allowed. "I see some things I've never tried."
There were prawn kabobs with onion but no pepper. Peppers were inconsistent. One pepper would test fine and another provoked an allergic reaction. Pineapple was a definite no, but they threaded slices of plantain and apricot halves on the skewers. There was a seasoned mix that looked like Syrian rice, but turned out to be barley based. Parsley was safe, so there was a tabbouleh salad, but no tomatoes in it as that was another food that was a problem sometimes, especially raw. There was a cold salad of cucumbers and olives and onions with no tomatoes again. Olive oil was safe, as was peanut oil, but others were to die for.
Talking about food gave them a break from the other talk that was getting overwhelming.
"This is very nice," Talker said after a bit. "What I really want to know is, how is this coffee so different? I already despaired that I am addicted to the coffee the fleet brought, but now I find this is even better. Meaning no disrespect to my other hosts' tastes, but this doesn't even need sweetened. I'm afraid star-goods are going to be the ruin of my fortune back home."
"Back when we set the L1 limit with the Earthies we had to suffer a bit of an embargo from them," April remembered. "Nobody starved for their basic calories every day, but the variety suffered. We were spoiled a bit too, because it cost so much to lift food to orbit, and then a bit more to get it to L2, that there was little reason to try to save pennies getting the cheaper grades. Why lift hamburger instead of filet mignon if the difference is only three or four percent after lift costs?
"Those few months that we ate a lot of pancakes and rice dishes, and worst of all, missed real bean coffee, motivated us to take charge of our own supply. In fact people expected the market to return to what it had been before the conflict was over. It never did. A lot of the new production we pioneered here at Central, and as the Republic grew it added a lot of production too. That coffee is locally grown. One of our fellows bought the green berries from some of the best suppliers and found which would adapt to our tunnels. He also researched what years of production were regarded as exceptional and studied the weather patterns for those years.
"What you are drinking is a genetic mix of five sources, raised on dwarfed bushes that produce almost three times what open air Earth cultivation produces. The pressure and moisture and lighting are all varied to mimic the conditions that produced superior coffee before. If you wish to try to cultivate them at home I'll have the head gardener give you a sample of viable berries and instructions. It's not like we can ever carry enough between the stars to make a huge market."
"I'd think growing trees in tunnels would be hugely expensive," Lee said.
"Well there are limits," April admitted. "I don't think anybody but a diehard hobbyist determined to show it could be done would raise walnuts. But we do have pit fruits and apples and citrus. The people who raise them lay the whole thing out as a park and sell memberships to go in and enjoy the environment. People like to take their kids there, and some people work from there instead of home. We also have some supply from those colonies of which I spoke. We're not dependent on Earth for supply anymore, and we've had a century to systematically collect every seed and shoot and animal genome we can acquire. Just in case things do go to hell and we do lose the world below."
"I will accept your great gift, and stand ready to repay you if ever I can," Talker agreed.
"That's fine. I'm always happy to bank favors owed," April said.
The table was cleared and the coffee renewed. Some sweets were offered that the aliens could enjoy. April didn't seem disposed to lead them back to the throne room.
"I suppose, since you didn't create the Claims Commission, and don't have any reason to influence them on this, we should just go ahead and approach them to submit our claims," Gordon decided. "All the reasons we used them before still exist. They do keep others from poaching, and we need to do business with the Human sphere for the light weapons, if the Badgers and Bills are going to discourage the Biters from preying on them. All this talk about containing or reforming the Earth nations is your project, and the scope of it beyond us. We may find common cause over time, but we are here to deal with the present, not to ally to change the future," he told April.
"Having ties to more species, an entire alien civilization in this case, is the sort of thing we hope will move the Earth powers to reject the old ways of intimidation and follow the rule of law as they've done with the Commission. We wish you every success," April assured them. "The Lunar Powers aren't in the business of protecting claims and advancing their development anyway. But if we find other things where we can partner that's fine too."
"Oh, you better believe we'll want to pursue the medical tech like Fargone," Talker said. "I hope we might get it available on our own worlds like Fargone has. A different question occurs to me though. We're looking to buy weapons from Fargone. We also sent a delegation to New Japan. You haven't mentioned them. Where do they stand with the other powers?"
"New Japan wants to chart their own course. We aren't in conflict, and I hope to avoid that happening. They simply have their own society and want it to remain isolated enough to maintain their vision for it. They want limited outside trade, and will accept business visitors. But they have no desire for mass tourism or other ways for outsiders to dilute their culture. We respect that," April said. "There was a period in their history, not New Japan, but the old island nation, when other powers forced them to open to the outside world and trade. They still remember that with resentment."
"I can see where they would," Talker agreed. How far back was this?"
"Long enough they were using sailing ships instead of spacecraft," April said, smiling.
"Oh, they have long memories then," Singer said. The first that he was moved to comment.
"Then if that resolves your questions, I have other business to pursue," April said standing. Gabriel appeared like magic to escort them again.
"Feel free to contact me if you have news or proposals to share," April added.
Something tickled at Lee's memory.
"Thanks. I have your com code. I'll message you when we resolve everything," Lee promised.
April just lifted an eyebrow at that, surprised.
Chapter 28
When Gabriel returned their party to the city they connected at the VIP rear entry at the Holiday Inn again. They entered the large bay where the Inn received bulk shipments and the workers entered. They knew which express elevator dropped to their suite and called it up. It didn't come.
Gordon called the front desk and was asking what the problem was when the lock they'd just used opened again, and two officers wearing the Claims Commission uniform like the guard out at the border entered. They were very polite, but insistent that if they had no further business with the Sovereign of Central they would now need to undergo the standard Commission medical exams and quarantine to reenter the Lunar Republic.
When Gordon objected the senior officer suggested their only other option was to get back in their ship and leave. They even helpfully offered to have their personal things from the suite retrieved under seal for them to the High Hopes.
"They want us to get upset and leave," Lee immediately decided. "Don't give them the satisfaction."
"Indeed, you are correct," Gordon said in that very soft hushed voice Lee understood meant that he was deeply angry. Thor on the other hand smiled at them. Lee did have to admire anyone with the nerve to smile back. These fellows had nerve aplenty. Talker and Singer, not being stupid, kept quiet and took their clues from the others.
When they were invited to pass back through the boarding tube and use the Commission transport to go to the medical facility they agreed. Lee however did drop a message about what was happening to the com address she remembered for April. The hotel net acknowledged its receipt. Talker quietly asked if it was safe to go with these people. Lee assured him that yes, April knew what was happening, so they weren't going to be 'disappeared', and her estimate of it was this was simply a silly display of temper over having their will and procedures overridden. The petty officials were going to give them a hard time, but nobody would offer them violence.
When they reached the clinic and hooked on the tube the officers did try to disarm them, telling Gordon and Thor to leave their axes, and that Lee should also leave her weapons on the seats.
Gordon just said, "No."
The officer stood there looking at the lock thinking how to deal with this.
"I'll open it for you if you need me to," Gordon offered. There was no external control. They must open it with their spex or the driver did it for them. The fellow appraised Gordon's size and the fact he had his hand under the axe head and decided to cede the point. He opened the hatch.
There was a technician waiting for each of them. Gordon took command of the situation and informed them their alien friends were uncomfortable with strangers and Singer, the fellow with the bill, would process with Thor, and Talker, the fellow with the pointy snout would go with him.
"That isn't our procedure," the fellow with his tablet out said, pouting like a child.
"I don't give a bloody damn what your procedures are," Gordon said. "That's how we do it today. These are the spox of an entire alien civilization. They are patients, not prisoners, and they're going to be treated with dignity. We just had lunch with a peer of the Sovereign of Central. How is it that someone of her stature managed to be gracious all day, and some flunky in a lab coat pisses me off the first time he opens his mouth?"
"Then who gets to escort the little girl?" the fellow sneered, angry to be spoken to that way. He seemed to think that was a brilliant come-back.
"My daughter can take care of herself," Gordon assured him. "That little girl owns three starships and the income from a class A living world. I suggest you speak to her with more care than all the rest of us put together. The Derf already had one war with North America over some idiot bureaucrats treating her shabbily. I doubt if anybody would thank you for starting another."
"Oh... she's that young woman," the doctor said. Looking alarmed. He apparently was aware of some things outside his professional life, such as a very recent and showy war.
"They didn't bother to tell you did they?" Gordon said, amused.
"I'm going to appoint a patient's advocate to follow her through testing and quarantine," the doctor decided, quickly covering his butt.
"That's an excellent idea. Last time we came in here we'd been a month from exposure on a new world, and they saw no need of a longer quarantine. This time we've had several times that long for anything to show, and a much bigger sample examined at Derfhome than just we two like before. The only thing that has turned up is an athlete's foot analog that the natives gave us two ways to treat. I don't see how you need a quarantine now if you didn't before," Gordon said. "Unless you were ordered to treat us differently."
"Be assured," the doctor said, looking like he'd bitten into a lemon, "I treat everybody to the most scrupulous professional standards, regardless of their station or anyone's opinion of them."
"Wonderful," Gordon said. "I admire a man with high standards." And they'd have thrown you under the bus after they used you to harass us, Gordon thought. The fellow had the picture and wasn't going to let that happen now.
It was still an ordeal. Perhaps the more so because the medical staff was now determined to do everything extra carefully and thoroughly for their own protection, having perceived it as a political hot-potato. They got back to the hotel late and exhausted. Room service brought up a late meal and they ate a bit, too tired to really enjoy it. Neither was the preparation near as artful as April's kitchen.
"They don't like you, obviously," Talker said, looking at Gordon.
"Well, yeah. Not the Claims Commission, but North America. Unfortunately North America is effectively half of the Claims Commission. They have entirely too much influence inside it. We were never going to be harmed, but they might have kept us isolated in quarantine for a few days, maybe as much as a week to teach us a lesson and show their authority," Gordon said.
"It is my observation," Talker, said with a rare angry expression. "Having seen the same behaviors in my own government, that when you use your limited powers to inflict petty punishments you demonstrate your weakness to the world. It just tells everyone you are unable to do the real harm you desire instead of showing true power."
"Indeed, I couldn't have said it better. The only ones intimidated are the lesser members of the Claims Commission. They see how they will be treated if they buck the big member. Could you tell the doctor was not North American?" Gordon asked.
"I can't tell which ethnic group or nation Humans are from yet, it's too... complicated. When I saw a Human with very black skin I thought – 'Yes! At last a group I'll be able to identify on sight' – and that lasted about ten minutes until I found he was just another Fargoer."
"I've heard enough to know," Gordon assured him. "The head doc there could be a North American by appearance, but his speech said that even if he is naturalized, he is a Spanish speaker. There are Spanish speakers in North America, but he had such a strong accent that it suggests he took his secondary education in that language and English is a second language to him. So much so he probably doesn't use it outside work. I'd guess he's South American or Central American. One of the other docs sounded Asian. The other countries in the Commission provide all sorts of personnel in support, more so than ships and crews."
"That's far more complicated than I'll be able to deal with for some time. And yet you still recommend we use this system?" Talker asked. "It seems flawed."
"Oh, it is," Gordon agreed. "But until it doesn't work it's the best game in town. Surely you have things in your own government you would change if it were in your power? I seem to remember you wanted to hurry away from Far Away before a wave of officials descended on you and made this mission so complicated there might never be an end to negotiations and an agreement."
"Your point is well taken," Talker agreed.
Nobody suggested a wakeup call in the morning.
* * *
When Gordon crawled out in the morning Lee was up, but nobody else. She wisely said nothing while he got a huge coffee and glared briefly at the priority com light flashing. He ignored it.
After Gordon was tipping the mug back far enough he was halfway done with the first filling Lee spoke. "The chef is on duty, ready to go if you want something."
"Unghhh... One more cup first, with brandy," Gordon demanded, eyes closed.
Lee found a bottle of the golden fluid in the bar, and added about a third to his cup.
"You haven't eaten?" Gordon asked Lee, squinty eyed.
"It isn't much fun eating alone.”
"Order something for both of us. Order up a buffet. The others will want something too," Gordon decided. “By the time they have it set up I'll be able to face it."
"You'll want it once you smell it," Lee assured him. He always did.
"Damn ghouls. All the technology and remote sensing. They should be able to check you out from orbit and they still insist on invasive stuff that leaves you sore and feeling like crap."
"I don't have as hard a time," Lee said carefully. "I think you tense up and fight everything more than me. If you can't help it I understand. The one tech came in where I was though, and said you grabbed the exam table so hard you left big claw holes in the sheet metal. He asked his boss if he should put it on the billing."
Gordon looked at his middle hand, which was about near a half meter across when he flattened it out and spread his fingers wide. The claws were ten centimeter black curves with sharp points.
"I don't have any busted tips, they must build them really cheap," He inspected the other middle limb carefully and went back to his coffee.
Lee didn't bother to say anything. She'd seen Gordon casually open sturdy cans of field rations by ripping the side open from end to end with a claw. It would probably take something classed as plate instead of sheet before he'd notice it resisting. She just went to the kitchen and told the chef and his assistant that their guests were stirring and they could start cooking. That made them happy.
Gordon finished a leisurely breakfast and chatted with them before he let the com signal concern him. When he finally sauntered over and sat at the console Lee followed and looked over his shoulder. As soon as Gordon accepted the call, the secretary for Green, Bennett and Glenn monitoring it had an executive on the line for Gordon in seconds.
It was night in New York City. The scene from John Bennett's corner office was spectacular. He was turned the wrong way to enjoy it. He looked at the screen and the expression that came to his face upon seeing Gordon was one of relief, although delayed just a heartbeat by the speed of light lag.
"Gordon! So glad to hear from you. I was worried there was some problem."
"We did get a little bureaucratic nonsense," Gordon admitted. "We got admitted straight in to land and went to Central to talk to the head lady there right now. We had some serious questions about who exactly is in charge, and she answered them for us. That ruffled some feathers and once we were no longer under her explicit hospitality they wanted to make us back up and jump through all the hoops. They were very thorough with the testing, but didn't hold us in quarantine."
"I can file a protest if you are getting prejudicial treatment. Who handles your claims was one of the things I wanted to talk about. When we served you before, the High Hopes was a USNA flagged vessel. It was automatic the USNA appointed senior account representative should administer your case. But now that you are flagged to your own clan and not one of the Big Five Commission members you can ask for whomever you wish to process your claims. There are a half dozen that rotate in the position to serve the members in common. You might be more comfortable with somebody you didn't cause any loss to in the war," John suggested.
"I actually was going to suggest just the opposite," Gordon said. "I remember Adrian Bertrand was a real stickler for making everybody satisfied that it was a clean deal. I'd much rather dump it right in the North Americans laps and dare them to cut corners on us."
John looked shocked. "You are a devious scoundrel," he said, but it didn't sound like a negative the way he said it. "They'll have everybody watching them, eager to complain about the slightest deviation, because most of the other members think they have too much power. I like it.
"What I don't like is there are simply more claims in your data than we can process properly. We have a certain volume of business for which we plan. There are a limited number of professionals who can be hired on a temporary basis to help us. It is rather a specialty at law. After that we run out of good options quickly. Raiding other firms for their employees is not an option.
"What I'd very much hope you will grant permission to do is farm out some of the less important claims to other reputable firms, and pursue the more lucrative ones in-house with our present staff," John suggested.
"Sure, it is quite a lot all at once, isn't it?" Gordon agreed. "Some of those claims are for simple things like fueling rights in a system that doesn't have anything else going for it. Feel free to spread them around. That's the way to do it, instead of upsetting everybody. Let's just try to get a few of the bigger claims for the brown dwarfs submitted, so we can take some positive news about them back home."
"Certainly," John agreed. "It's going to run well into the next year before we process ever single claim. I'll be forwarding reports to you when you are back at Derfhome."
"I'd also like you to inquire of the Commission on our behalf," Gordon said. "We have the spox of two alien races with us, and they are interested in cooperating with the Claims Commission as they explore and make their own claims near Human space. It's an excellent opportunity to secure good relations with them before there can be any conflict or misunderstandings."
"They don't wish to join as members?" John Bennett asked.
"They don't have armed ships to assume member obligations. But that's one of the trade items they're here to obtain. Perhaps in time they will qualify," Gordon said.
"That's a new set of circumstances. I will inquire on for you. We'd be happy to represent these new people too, if they desire counsel," John offered.
"Thank you. We have every confidence in you," Gordon assured him. "You handled our claims before just fine and we've had no challenges or problems. And I can recommend you to our new allies." John wisely took that for a goodbye.
Thor was standing behind them as they finished their call, scowling. "You know, maybe we're dumping too much on the market. We might be driving the prices down we'll get offered on these claims. Just like there are only so many claims lawyers, there are probably only so many developers waiting to bid on mining rights and development."
Gordon thought on it a bit, going back to the cleared breakfast table where there was still coffee available to top off his mug.
"There's no help for it," Gordon finally decided. "The way the system is set up you have five years to file. You can't stockpile claims and dole them out a bit at a time. Perhaps if they'd pictured such a huge set of claims as this coming in all at once they'd have made provisions for something like that at the start. But until now everyone has been eager for every new claim to be put on the market immediately.
"I think it will affect our immediate returns more than the long range prospects. Over time it's going to be very good for the whole economy, and that's to our advantage. To most of the crew who own a share there is very little difference between having a hundred million dollars Ceres or a couple billion the first year. It's still more than almost any of them can spend. The few that want something like a starship or vast tracts of land will just have to wait. We didn't promise any specific payout after all."
There was a chime and they all looked at the com board, but nothing lit up. It took a moment to realize it was the door signaling they had a visitor.
Gordon, cautious from previous visits and the way the Commission had just treated them made sure who was there before opening the door. They after all had not engaged a security force for their rooms.
"Room, can you display who is at our entry or inquire of them what they wish?" Gordon asked.
The com console showed a view of the outside corridor on its screen. "The audio channel for the door intercom is muted unless you hold the transmit button," the house computer told them.
It was Gabriel at their door again, completely unexpected. Lee went over and held the appropriate key down. "Hello Gabriel, what can we do for you?" she asked.
"Today isn't a work-day for me and I'm in town. I wondered if I might play the guide for you? Are any of you up for some touring or are you too busy with business?"
Lee frowned. "You know, I hadn't thought about it before, but last time we were here there was a huge fuss in the press and the hotel was mobbed with a bunch of crazed reporters so we couldn't go out. How is it they are ignoring us this time?"
If Gabriel was offended by standing in the corridor answering questions he didn't show it. Indeed he had the decency to look a bit ashamed, or was it amused?
"When ships land at the field on invitation of the Sovereign there isn't any official announcement. That's one of the conditions of leasing the field. They might announce it now that your business with her is finished, but I imagine they are treating it with an abundance of caution. They seem to realize that any serious irritation is liable to close the field to them, and that would be awkward. One has no idea what other arrangements they could make."
Lee looked a question at Gordon and he shrugged. "Room, unlock and admit our visitor," Lee said.
"You could have called on com first and saved yourself a trip if we planned on holing up," Lee said.
"I would have, if it were out of the way," Gabriel agreed. "It was three hundred steps from the lock, and half of them on my way in any case."
"Is that how you gauge distances here?" Lee asked.
"Very much so. In fact in the Republic, or even back at Central, if you inquire where a shop is located the answer is likely to be, back to the mall and four hundred and ten steps down corridor seven, before you pass the pressure curtain. Most folks don't call a cart until they need to go two thousand steps, or are in some sort of a hurry."
"When I was here before with Lee's parents I noticed that in Europe everybody gave distances in kilometers," Gordon said. "But in North America they said – 'Oh that's a forty minute drive' – Now you have introduced me to a different custom."
"And when you skate on moon-boots you figure it's about four steps to the slide," Gabriel said.
"Should I get a pair of those?" Lee asked.
"Have you ever used ice skates or roller skates?" Gabriel asked.
"Never," Lee admitted.
"Your choice, but if you have never used anything similar expect to fall down a few times. Newbies also tend to run into things, because stopping well is harder than building up speed. There are auto-dispensers all over the city that will cut you a pair if you'd like to try them."
"Can they fit me?" Gordon asked, lifting a foot the size of a serving platter to show Gabriel.
"Now that is a very interesting question," Gabriel said looking at the size of the foot, and the claws. “I'd love to see how the machine reacts if you stuff that foot in the fitting well."
"We'll find out then," Gordon decided. "I thought it was kind of neat watching you glide along."
The others passed on an expedition, just Lee and Gordon deciding a tour of Armstrong and lunch out was just the thing.
* * *
They chose a taxi over walking to get in the center of the city and down six levels. Lee wanted to see the museum where the Happy Lewis hung. The ship looked even smaller in person than on video. The old suits were interesting, as were some really old rovers they let you go inside.
Lee found there was a huge collection of images from the early days of both Armstrong and Central. She hadn't seen those searching online. When they went back to their rooms she resolved to set her pad to download the whole collection overnight.
Beside the exit there was a transparent cube on a pedestal. A small sign discretely said ‘For the support of the museum’. It had a slot on top. Lee had never seen anything like it. The bottom was filled with coins. Most were small and silvery. She didn't recognize them. They weren't Ceres Dollars.
"Can they really collect enough that way to make a difference?" Lee wondered.
"Probably not to keep the place open, but they take school kids through. It's good to teach them they have to support things like this if they want them to stay open. A lot of little kids carry bits," Gabriel said, motioning at the box. "Some parents don't approve of letting them use phone payments until they are ten or twelve. It's too abstract. I'm sure they take donations online."
So, that's what a Home Bit looked like. Lee resolved she'd drop a donation on them later. It was only fair for all the images she was going to grab.
Gabriel suggested having lunch fairly close, so no need to call a taxi back, and there was a footie dispenser across the small square outside the museum. So they could try the Loonie footgear.
The vending machine cut a pair of slippers for Gordon without hesitation. Somebody had obviously anticipated Derf customers or the software would have returned an error message. The thin stretched material looked so dainty on Gordon's huge paws it was comical. But whoever set the machines up knew enough to have the inner-sole material doubled over along the front where his claws would have pierced a single thickness.
Gordon assumed an interesting pose, middle arms clasped behind him, true hands held loosely at his sides. The expressions on the few Loonies they passed were priceless. Lee suspected he was hamming it up, doing a pump and glide... pump and glide... lifting his trailing foot high behind him. It failed to look dainty given his bulk. Lee was a little irritated he had better balance and form than she did.
The cafe Gabriel took them too didn't look like much from the street. The front was open and a half dozen small tables occupied a small room with a bar along one wall. The bar was, however, wood, and Lee was starting to appreciate that meant money on the moon. The space behind it was like something from one of her period videos with tiers of fancy bottles in front of a huge mirror.
The fellow that greeted them made a little bow to Gabriel acknowledging him by name, but made no move to take them to one of the small tables, instead he led them through a curtain of beaded strands into a short hallway. Lee stopped and ran the beads between her fingers, fascinated. The interior room was much bigger with a domed ceiling and table set in alcoves around the perimeter for privacy. The center of the room had three trees. One seemed bare, but the larger one had oranges and the smaller one lemons.
The staff hurried to remove the seat on one of the booths to make room for Gordon and Lee and Gabriel took the cushioned seat on the other side. Lee was frankly staring at the trees.
"Are those real or fake?" she demanded.
The host, seating them, was amused. "Please, be my guest and pick one. You can eat the orange, or have a drink made from it if you prefer the lemon."
Lee went over and looked at the oranges closely, felt the leaves and squeezed an orange gently with her fingertips. It was firm and orange, but not the vivid saturated color she expected. She went instead to the smaller tree and examined a lemon. It was more tapered in shape, about a hundred millimeters long, and had a little bump on the bottom end instead of under the stem like the orange. It was shinier and a little waxy too. When Lee pulled on it the whole branch dipped toward her and didn't let go of the fruit.
The Maître D', having followed her, advised her, "Give it a little twist."
"On which axis?" Lee wondered.
The fellow couldn't hide his amusement. "Rotate it about the stem," he clarified.
When it came off in her hand it was surprisingly heavy. Lee rubbed it and sniffed it.
"Break the skin with your nails," he suggested.
"Oh! So strong," Lee said surprised when she inhaled again.
When they returned to the table the host summoned an attendant who brought a blender on a cart with ice loaded in it. He added sugar and the juice of the lemon, explaining what he was doing, shaving a little of the skin off with a special little tool. Then he surprised Lee by adding a dash of salt. The mix was blended briefly and the slurry presented to her in a small glass.
Lee thought she'd down such a small serving it in a few gulps, but was surprised at the intensity of the flavor. It was much better than any lemonade mix they'd carried exploring. She ended up taking small sips, and offered it to Gordon but he declined to taste it.
"We ordered our own while you were playing Farmer John," Gordon teased her.
"Thank you. That was fun," Lee told the host.
"Well if you get stuck on Earth again perhaps you can make your own way as a fruit picker," Gordon suggested. "It has to be pretty much the same, apples, lemons... whatever."
"Ah, I hate to shatter your dreams, but most fruit on Earth is picked robotically now, " Gabriel informed them. "In fact the trees are trimmed flat, like a lollipop," he illustrated with his hands, "and spaced closer together to let the machines harvest more efficiently. We harvest more by hand here than Earth, because we do dual use, putting them in parks."
"I'm going to get some trees like these," Lee vowed, "and put them on my island when I get around to building a house."
The Maître D' looked delighted and fussed with something on the cart before the man took it away. "Here is a start on your grove, my lady."
Lee looked at the napkin and the little pellets on it, uncomprehending.
"Those are the seeds from your lemon," he explained.
"Oh, they're, uh alive? I mean, I stick them in the ground?"
"Indeed you do," Gabriel confirmed. "I'm sure you can find detailed instructions on the web."
"Thank you," Lee said. She was really touched. The Maître D' just nodded, pleased, and went off.
Lee folded the napkin up and sealed it in a pocket. Dinner was Middle Eastern and very good. Lee had never had several items and even Gordon admitted a few things were new to him. They must have fed Derf before, because they filled Gordon up.
Chapter 29
Gabriel delivered them back to the hotel safely and showed them how they could access the hotel, including their private elevator, from the lower levels. He took his leave there, and thanked them for their company. Lee was quiet going to their rooms.
"A Home Bit for your thoughts?" Gordon inquired.
"Instead of a penny? Is that what a Bit is like, a penny?" Lee wondered. "I see pennies mentioned in a lot of old books, but I don't think I've ever seen one."
"I was just being cute, because the saying has stuck in the language for so long. Most early pennies were copper, not silver, so the Home Bits are really more like a dime. But they're all about the same size. I'll get you one of each while we're here," Gordon promised. "It's educational."
"I'd like that. I guess my thought is a question," Lee admitted. "Why did Gabriel just take us on a tour of Armstrong? Do you think he really decided to do that on his personal time? Or do you think April sent him?" Lee asked.
"Ah, I love a bargain. I get three questions for my one Bit," Gordon said.
"Well, they're pretty closely related," Lee said.
"Very well, I'll be equally generous with my answers," Gordon said. "Yes I think he came of his own initiative, on his own time. I think he's interested in you."
Lee looked shocked. "He's much too old for me!" Lee protested.
"How very interesting that you seem to have some specific standards in mind," Gordon said. "How young would a suitable Human male be for you to feel comfortable dating or receiving him as a suitor?"
"Closer to my own age I'd think!" Lee said, alarmed. "I'm not sure I'm ready to date anyone. I'm still trying to figure all this social stuff out. Some days I think the whole species is stark raving mad and despair I'm human. Anyway, isn't it looked down on in Human society to have an interest in a minor?"
"Yes, it is," Gordon agreed. "Does that mean you still self identify as a minor? Or just in this particular instance, not while doing business or exploring the Beyond?"
"I'm not at all confident how to handle such attention. So yes, I wouldn't go off on a date with Gabriel, any more than I'd take the comm on the High Hopes and start ordering the fleet around." Lee readily admitted.
"Hmm, interesting," Gordon said.
"I am not an 'interesting' specimen of an alien species," Lee said, irritated with him. "You're supposed to be giving your me advice and encouragement. I believe one of your objectives was to socialize me to Human society?" Lee reminded him.
"Oh, it's advice you want? Well, I honestly think you have no idea how different you are. I can count the number of teenage girls who own starships and discover planets on one hand," Gordon said, raising a single digit and wiggling it. "With plenty of spares," he added, wiggling the single finger again if she didn't get it. "So if he regards you as adult I have to give him points rather than fault him. You do come to him wearing weapons and conducting your own business affairs.
"I'd guess Gabriel is impressed with what you've accomplished. He seems to worship the ground his Lady walks on, and I'll bet you are the closest thing to her he's seen in a long time. Maybe ever. Remember he even addressed you the same, quite naturally. I found that more telling than you seem to.
"I do know he's attracted to you. His eyes dilate and he smells different on meeting you, but I thought he was remarkably gentlemanly about not being too obvious. Unless you're an observant predator with keen senses like me."
"I really don't want to hear that," Lee said, uncomfortable.
"It's a necessary part of my advice," Gordon insisted. "I'm also guessing that when you live to a hundred and thirty three, and by all appearances still look forward to a great deal more life, it alters your view. The fact you may need to mature a little, both physically and socially isn't all that big a deal, because the time he'd invest waiting is no big deal. He has lots of time. Indeed, I imagine he'd regard waiting a decade for you to be able to return his interest, with the same patience I can have for something happening the day after tomorrow.
"In all honesty, I think you'd be bored to tears with a sixteen year old boy. You have no idea what teenagers talk about," Gordon said. "And you'd terrify a boy your own age with your interests and experiences. He wouldn't know how to respond at all. You simply don't have peers of your own age.
"These people must have very little regard for how old their friends and business associates are. What would it matter after a certain point? You don't even have the physical signs of age to mislead you about how wise or experience somebody should be," Gordon decided. "They have to have a completely different set of social standards and responses than short-lived Humans. I have to imagine how you act means more than your actual age."
"We're rich, and we know about life extension now," Lee said. "I guess we'll have the same advantage soon. Even if they don't have it all worked out for Derf yet, you're just middle aged. They should have it figured out before you're much older."
"Yeah, it feels weird. I was getting used to the idea of – OK, I've used up about half my life. Now I have to learn to think a completely different way," Gordon admitted. "This is going to terrify the Mothers as much as the Earth politicians. This will destabilize the clan system. I'm not sure I want to be the one to tell them."
"So, you don't think somebody as old as Gabriel is going to automatically think I'm naive beyond being anything but a source of humor?" Lee asked, backtracking a bit.
"I think he looks at you and knows that in an instant, to him, you will be old enough for him. If he likes what he sees in you now it's a safe bet you'll be even more interesting in just a few more years. Why not make sure you'll remember him and establish a relationship now? In a hundred years he'll be two hundred and thirty three, and you'll be a hundred and sixteen. And what will it matter then?" Gordon asked. "The longer you live the smaller the difference matters. If they get this life extension tech to work well enough, the differences will tend to become insignificant in time."
"OK, I'm not sure I can understand how that feels yet," Lee said, "but I understand it in the abstract. So there's no rush for me to feel comfortable or not, with him, is there?"
"I'd be very surprised if these folks rush at anything they don't have to. They're probably deeply suspicious of anything that requires rushing," Gordon speculated.
"Good then. I'll worry about Gabriel in a few years," Lee decided. "If that doesn't work for him he has the wrong motives. And by that time maybe I'll have some idea whether he's the sort of person I like or not. If I can ever get all this social stuff sorted out."
"I can teach you all sorts of things," Gordon said, "but you'll have to see to your own tastes."
But privately, Gordon liked Gabriel just fine. Not that he'd ever say that, and give Lee a reason to reject him just to be contrary. He wasn't a hundred percent sure about Human psychology, but the surest way for a potential Derf romance to be nipped in the bud was for the Mothers to give it their blessing.
They settled in to relax in their suite a bit. Gordon a little tired form the expedition, and Lee eager to get into the data she collected and search it for details of what April told them. Talker and Singer were consulting privately, and it appeared events had overwhelmed them so much they were forgetting to be adversarial. That amused her somewhat. It was good Gordon had given them a strong shove in that direction already.
* * *
Their lawyer John Bennett called, and looked distressed on com. "Gordon, I have Commissioner Bertrand on hold. He's running into some significant problems and called me as the principal writer of your claims and sought my advice. I'm sure this is not some ploy or political device. My assessment of the man was just like yours, he's scrupulous to a fault. However, he is terrified you will fault him for the problem."
"Go back to the man and assure him I won't bite his head off," Gordon instructed. "Then bring him in a conference call. If it seems wise I'll bring the alien spox in too."
"I'll rephrase it," John said. "I doubt you realize how graphic that expression is, coming from a Derf. He's on the edge of a meltdown already without that visual. But yes, I'll be right back," John promised.
"Lee honey, You'll want to hear this," Gordon called over his shoulder eschewing com.
Adrian Bertrand appeared on the split screen. He made John look calm by comparison.
"No need to be upset, Adrian," Gordon said, trying to calm him. "We'll talk things over and see if we can't help you with a solution. What's the matter?"
"You are aware I have to form a consensus for how I am going to administer a find?"
"Yes I remember you explained that went you oversaw the bidding for Providence," Gordon said. "I was impressed with your determination to keep everybody happy and still develop the find in an orderly manner. I felt you served us, and everybody else, marvelously. That's why we asked for you again."
"Your kind words are very much appreciated," Adrian said, but looking down. "The problem is not my own people, as perhaps you'd anticipate, but rather a rebellion of the smaller states. Not the charity cases who get an allowance from all the spacefaring nations, but the ones who have one or two armed starships. I never thought they'd object, but they're quite adamant we demand too much."
"There's so much there, we'll be exploiting it for generations," Gordon said. "I'm not at all disposed to argue if they want to have a bigger share, however you can arrange that without bending your rules too badly. Lee and I already have more than a sane person can need or spend. We don't have to grub after every centum."
"Ah, if only it were that simple," Adrian said. "Their objection isn't their portion. As you say, I could adjust that. They see this multitude of claims and know they are have pledged their ships to the defense of the whole. They can see they will all have to send their vessels for months just as escorts. None of them have budgeted for such extensive operations. We have perhaps unwisely encouraged that by sending the ships of the larger partners more often than not. Especially where more than one escort was called for and it seemed easier to send two ships from the same command, sharing a language.
"Now they see they'll be asked to send their ships and crew for long voyages, and likely be asked to service them and send them back out again, as soon as they return. We've never really asked them to fully hold up their end of the bargain before. Worse, the conflict among starfaring aliens you met and brought back complicate it. They might be asked not just to make long expensive tours, but if things go badly, to actually fight. They have very little appetite for it."
"I have to get Talker and Singer in here to hear this," Gordon decided. He got the aliens in physically behind him, not in the feed, and brought them up to speed on the difficulties.
"What does this mean if they refuse?" Talker asked. "Who has rights to the claims if the Claims Commission fails to guarantee it and parcel it out?"
"It simply becomes none of our concern, if the members refuse to back us, to process the claim," Adrian admitted, looking embarrassed. "The exploration company can still claim it, but without member support we can't guarantee to protect it from infringement. That becomes the problem of the exploration company, to defend their claim. If they sell rights, it becomes complex whether the buyer defends their rights or the system claimant has an obligation to guarantee them as the Commission would have."
The attorney John Bennett interrupted him. "It also becomes the claimant's problem to get paid since that doesn't go through the commission. If there is no governmental entity in the new system, does the law of the buyer's world or nation apply, or that of the seller? That's difficult enough with a single sale, like a tract of land. But if it is a recurring payment for something like rights to provide a service, or leasing land for a spaceport and the right to charge landing fees... Those things the Commission has an established bureaucracy to manage. It becomes a huge ongoing expense to deal with all that yourself, with no recognized authority over it."
"Why not just admit we're back to square one, like it was before the Claims Commission existed, if you no longer can accept claims that are too far away?" Lee suggested. She was really irritated with them. She looked at Gordon and raised an eyebrow that alarmed him. He nodded an acknowledgement of her displeasure, perhaps that would be enough to moderate it. She was still wearing her gun and he was just as happy the Earthies were attending via com.
Both Earthies looked upset, but didn't contradict her.
"That's back to square one for us," Gordon pointed out. "They're not going out of business, they simply won't be expanding further now. I guess that means that out our way Derfhome and Providence are the living worlds marking the frontier for our quadrant, even if Providence is further out. There's not a living world for thirty degrees around them."
"This is most unpleasant," Talker said. "We were looking for a measure of security and to avoid conflict, and it's all falling apart. We are pressed from behind by the Biters and face the Human dominated group to this side. We see you have many factions. We can't resist Human ships and weapons. If one of your nations, or even a commercial interest, decides to travel out past the volume under Commission control to contest our claims."
Singer didn't say anything, he was less fluent, but he looked very unhappy and was nodding agreement.
Lee was thinking furiously. Somebody needed to do something. This was a disaster. The way Home had set the L1 limit for the Earthies seemed a reasonable model to copy.
Lee pointed a finger at Commissioner Bertrand on the screen. It wasn't a friendly gesture. "If you abandon any claim to authority in the Beyond, the Derf partnership formed by the usual publication of legal notices, as the High Hopes Exploratory Association, does not yield its claims. We shall publish our claims in the public contracts as is Derf custom upon our return. As senior partner I intend to defend them by force of arms, and I damn well have plenty of arms, crew that knows how to use them, and experience doing so.
"You," Lee said, shifting her gaze to John Bennett, "are charged with making sure everyone is put on notice we own the Beyond, and Earth ships and nations can apply to the Exploratory Association at Derfhome if they wish to make new claims in the quadrant of the heavens beyond Derfhome. If anyone wants to get argumentative about those boundaries with us, I may claim the whole damn hemisphere to ease their navigation. Since you won't be writing our claims to the commission that will give you something to do, and if you have hours wasted on writing claims I'll make you whole.
"I intend to offer the same registration of claims with our association under Derf law to the aliens known as Badgers and Bills, and their minor associated races, if they wish. There will be fees and shares, but I am personally guaranteeing they will be reasonable and equitable, or they can be contested under Derf law."
"I'm not sure a commercial company, not a sovereign nation, can set borders, form treaties, and make laws, like that," their attorney, John said. "Especially by force of arms. It may be seen as piracy."
"You can contract to do anything you want in Derf law as long as the Mothers don't prohibit it," Lee said. "Since the Mothers of Derfhome contracted with us for shares to pay for the lease of their ship the Sharp Claws, and extra shares for crew they supplied, I doubt they are going to rule against themselves being paid.
"If anybody wants to appeal to them to change Derf law, feel free. If you can convince some other Mothers to stick their nose in Red Tree business, then their champions will decide it. As far as your law – I don't know much modern history, but before my studies got interrupted I was reading about the East India Company. I understand there were other Human companies of exploration. So don't try to tell me you haven't done the same thing."
"What is the High Hopes Exploratory Association" Singer asked, his English not up to the task.
"Same as The Little Fleet," Talker explained. "But the legal name of the partnership."
Singer nodded his understanding.
"Do you support this, Gordon?" John Bennett asked.
"I'm the fleet commander, Lee is principal owner. Since she's not in the command structure she directs her energies towards the business aspects of our enterprise. Since they don't want our claims, I can't see much of any other course than what she just decided. What do they expect us to do? Write off our time and expenses and go home? We have a responsibility to everyone owed shares. If she hadn't spoken up I'd have had to say basically the same thing, but she likely said it more politely."
"I'll have to consult with my fellow commissioners and our nations... " Adrian started but Gordon cut him off.
"Consult amongst yourselves all you want. This is not a negotiating session," Gordon said. "We're past that. Lee stated our position just now. I intend to direct our assets to enforce it. If you decide to contest it, please consider the recent conflict we had with North America over the Treaty of Man. I believe respect for Derf law was at the core of that agreement. You challenge it again at your peril. Do I make myself clear?" Gordon asked, with a single digit held aloft to gain their attention. It had a black talon prominent.
Talker was watching this with eyes like saucers. Singer looked to be trying to hide behind him.
"Quite clear," Adrian acknowledged. "I will inform my peers and the sitting chairman, and stress to them that they should all inform their governments."
"Thanks, you might also inform them we'll be making a press release available before leaving the system," Gordon added. "Just in case any of them think they can just ignore us until it goes away."
Talker and Singer looked at each other, but didn't say anything. They couldn't imagine that folly.
"Mr. Bennett, Mr. Bertrand," Talker said. "I'm spox for my species, that has a multi-system civilization. One of the reasons we are here, beside some trading, was to investigate whether we could join your Claims Commission. While I have you both available on com, it will be an economy of effort to tell you we will be petitioning to join the Derf based Claims system. They are much more convenient to us, and I sense their thinking is closer to ours. Perhaps it is wisdom to see the limits of your reach, but that puts our exploration outside your interest."
"I am Singer," the Bill said. "I am spox like Talker. Our lives are all mixed up with the Badgers and other star folk near us. We will deal with the Derf too. If I spoke poorly correct me, please," Singer asked, looking at Talker and then Lee.
"You spoke just fine," Talker assured him.
"There's nothing more to say," Bertrand concluded. "I apologize, because I failed your company as well as the Commission." He cut his connection without waiting to hear any more.
"We really aren't a public relations firm," John Bennett said. "However we do know who needs to be aware of this development better than that sort of a firm. I'll bring our claims work to a quick stop to minimize pointless loss to you. I'll also have some suggestions about how you word the press release of which you spoke. If our firm sets the time and place for it our name will get a better attendance. As well as a wider reading of the online release," John assured them.
"Thank you, John. We appreciate you stretching beyond your usual services," Gordon said.
"I better get used to it," John said, a bit sharply. "The damn fools just declared an end to the age of exploration. It won't end entirely in my lifetime, but claims can only decline now. How long before they decide it's too far to deal with, off some another direction? But that is not your concern. Pardon an old man's rant."
"Not at all. They were looking at the tree, and you are looking at the forest," Gordon said.
John nodded. "Good evening then," and disconnected.
* * *
"Well, that changes everything," Lee said. She was sort of stunned by her own actions, but what choice did she have? Even Gordon had said he didn't see any other course of action. But she felt kind of shocky, just like after they'd fired on the huge plate vessel of the Centaurs, not knowing if they would be annihilated for their impudence. She'd just drawn a line, telling most of the human race and their allies not to cross it. If she'd had time to really think about it would she have had the nerve?
"I think you're getting the hang of this command thing," Gordon said.
How dare he look amused? Lee thought.
"Not that I'm ready to turn you loose with a ship," he added, before she got too cocky. "You still need some seasoning, but you've got the decisiveness part down pat," Gordon admitted.
"I think it runs in the family," Talker said, behind them.
Lee turned and regarded him, astonished. "You have no idea, but that is the sweetest thing you've ever told me."
"Just an honest observation," Talker said, perplexed again. Someday he'd figure these people out. But he suspected he'd need that life extension work to have a chance at it.
"Are you going to tell Lady April about this?" Talker asked.
"Dear God, Lady April! They have you doing it now too," Lee said.
"She seemed to have all the authority and respect of her people to warrant the title," Talker said. "Indeed, my father is also a Lord, and I will remind you he invited you to call him Goy, which is fellow and implies you are his peer. You asked what you could add to indicate respect, but once he knew you befriended me he instead wanted you to call him Par Goy, which I'd say as Dear Fellow in English. Perhaps I didn't explain adequately. Par Goy adds respect, but for you, not him. It indicates you are Lady Lee, not just by yourself, but as a member of his household also. He liked you."
"You mean I'm family?" Lee asked Talker.
"Absolutely. I'm sorry. I didn't want to make a big deal of it, and instead I didn't make it clear."
Lee thought a bit, and looked at Talker hard. "That's why you said I was attached to the family to the jeweler," she decided.
"You have an excellent memory," Talker allowed. "Attached is much more than visiting. You should probably be aware Tish calls you Aunt Lee now."
Talker looked alarmed, because tears were running down Lee's face.
"I understand that is a sign of intense displeasure," Talker said. "Please explain if I've upset you in any way."
"It's a sign of deep emotion," Lee corrected him. "People cry when the go to a wedding or have a child born of win the lottery too. But I'm also deeply embarrassed I was so dense and didn't understand how you honored me."
"Well, I seem to remember you had to explain to me that you'd befriended me. My father was quite put out with me for being dense about that too. Call it even?" Talker requested.
"Even," Lee agreed, and gave him a hug.
"Again... Are you going to tell Lady April about this?" Talker asked, with his head over her shoulder. "I thought she was quite kind to us, and you said you'd call once you had things settled. I think you just settled them."
"Yeah, I do owe her that, don't I?" Lee acknowledged.
* * *
"I didn't see this one coming at all," April admitted. Blinking out of the screen at Lee.
"Our attorney doing the claims documents was pretty bummed out. He said, 'The damn fools just declared an end to the age of exploration'. Since that is the basis of his whole business I can see why he was upset. He knew it wouldn't just end abruptly, but it must have been like a sailing ship owner seeing the first steamship dock next to him," Lee said.
"Yes, it’s the start of the decline to the age of exploration for Earth Humans and their sphere of influence," April agreed. "I can see you intend to keep exploring."
"I want to. We ran up against the Badger civilization on this voyage. I'm wondering how many more are out there. This was why I originally wanted to go deep," Lee revealed. "I was scared that as the globe of exploration expanded it slowed down, and if others were expanding more aggressively they would come to us and grab all the good real estate first.
"If we run up against other star-going races in other directions... Well I did what I could," Lee decided. "By the time we run out of metals from the brown dwarfs we found maybe we'll have the ability to swap matter around and make any element we want."
"There is a reasonable expectation of that," April agreed. "That's one of the things Jeff and his associates have been working to make happen. It's doable in a technical sense. Transmutation has been known for a couple centuries. But it's still not as cheap and easy as he wants it to be. Yet."
"You seem to be ahead of us in tech in several areas," Lee said. "Is there any way we can get you to ally with us, or trade with us, to get some of it? Do we even have anything you want?"
"The life extension therapy is available on Home. Or on Fargone if you can come to terms with them. Not free, but then food and air to sustain life aren't free either. The Earthies withhold life, not us. All the rest of our tech in closely held in the Central Kingdom. The Lunar Republic and Home will admit anyone who can afford to live there, but Central is more selective.
"We will admit people to visit for business. We even get a very rare social scientist or news person, if you believe either label has any basis in reality. We mostly regard them as tourists with delusions of grandeur, and tolerate them, because excluding them leads to accusations of mysterious conspiracies. But to live at Central as a permanent resident you need the permission of a peer or the Sovereign. Even then Heather can revoke your rights and expel you if a peer chooses poorly."
"Do you allow the spouse to reside if one of your people gets married?" Lee asked.
"Why do you ask?" April said, raising one suspicious eyebrow high.
"It just seemed a natural question. Such things happen," Lee insisted.
"It has," April admitted. "Although most of our marriages were between people already sworn. A few even had a trial period of residence before committing to a marriage. A very few, two actually that I know of, went very badly. One couple moved off to the Republic with our blessing, another divorced.
"However, to actually share proprietary tech, and have a hand in our private endeavors, you need to be sworn to the Sovereign. We take such an oath very seriously. If you break your fealty to Heather you might well be killed instead of expelled. It's that serious. I'm one of two peers who can swear a subject to the Sovereign at my discretion. It is my firm opinion you might prove a worthy subject, but I think you lack sufficient information and experience to make that decision with wisdom. I will take your oath if you insist, but advise against it at this point. Are you prepared to send your people off without you, and take a new direction with your life here and now?" April asked.
"No. I want to stay with Gordon. We still have a lot of... unfinished business. He assures me I need seasoning, and I trust his judgment," Lee said. When April just nodded, Lee added. "I trust your judgment and advice too."
"Thank you. Go then, buy the life extension is my suggestion. It changes your perceptions and the way you regard other people and what sort of projects and business you find worthwhile. In another hundred years, or two, you may be back asking to be sworn." April smiled. "Or by then I may be asking you."
"If we're not going to be formal allies, I just have one small personal favor to ask for now," Lee asked. "I'd really appreciate if you'd tell me should you see me doing something tremendously stupid. My inclination is to keep exploring. I have my own lands and a family relationship with Gordon's clan and Talker's family, but no desire to be planet bound and build a home, or stick my nose in the affairs of either family. Would you counsel against going out again?"
"Not at all," April said. "We've surveyed enough that I can tell you there are vast areas accessible from the Human sphere of influence that have no owners. We have no reason to oppose that. I don't expect you to go far enough into the deep to find where we have active claims, but if you do they aren't hidden, you'll know they are inhabited systems on entering. We had a few places we exploited closer and abandoned them to set up and become well established much further away. Perhaps Earth society will be easier to deal with when they get that far into the Beyond. That's the hope anyway. I'm certainly willing to tell you if I see any other errors, in a spirit of friendship."
"I know. We found one of the places you mined around a brown dwarf," Lee said.
April lifted an eyebrow again. "Is that conjecture? There are others who have tapped those sources for minerals. I'm reading the log summaries you released, and you are aware the ones you call Centaurs left a great deal of evidence behind before they withdrew to a large extent."
"The Centaurs didn't use a Wright's Sure vacuum marker made in Armstrong," Lee said.
"Ah, somebody screwed up and didn't sanitize the place thoroughly," April admitted.
"Well it's clean now, if that's all they missed," Lee said.
April looked serious for a few silent moments. "Thank you. The other side of that coin is true too. I expect you to tell us if you see us doing something stupid," April requested.
"I'll be glad too," Lee allowed. "It was just a vacuum marker," she said. "No big deal."
"But it wasn't supposed to be there. We do make errors," April insisted. "Being friends is both more and less than being allies," she said, smiling. "I'm comfortable with that at this point."
"Agreed. If you need to contact me just send a message to Derfhome and it'll get to me eventually," Lee suggested. "Bye for now."
April nodded and disconnected.
Chapter 30
"You have powerful friends," Talker said, very seriously, when the screen closed.
"You among them," Lee said.
Talker opened his mouth like he was going to deny it, and stopped. "It's good to be on the list," he said. Not his original thought at all, Lee was certain.
"You are after all, spox for your race," Lee reminded him. "Let's go over and sit. I'm tired from all this intense emotion and thinking under pressure. I need some coffee.” Gordon accompanied them and Thor ambled off to look at something in the theatre.
When he was seated and had a mug of sweet coffee, Talker opened up further.
"I should be honest. My value as spox may come to an end when we return. I orchestrated the Little Fleet leaving early before any higher ranking spox from our central government could arrive. I knew they would make as thorough a mess, if they got involved, as your Earth governments here have done. They can't prove it, but they aren't stupid. They'll know I rushed off to shut them out. I fear when I go back I'll be the minor son of a minor lord on a frontier world once again."
"You don't seem all torn up about that," Lee observed.
"Very few voices serve for their entire life," Talker observed. "It's stressful and involves traveling. There can be risk from some persons one must confront to deliver a message. I will regard this action as the most successful of my career, even if I never get to reveal the purpose of it publically. Just like military service, nobody ever gets called to serve as a voice who is a first heir, or needs to work at a trade and would be impoverished by having his work interrupted. I'm pleased I served the race so well at a critical time. Or at least I think history will judge it so."
"I had no idea," Singer the Bill spox said. "That's why the big rush to leave near the end." It was a speech for him. He stayed quiet in the background until they forgot he was there almost. "How did you manage to get Gordon to hurry? He isn't the sort to be pushed into anything."
"I explained how much more complicated it would be if every official had his finger in the pie," Talker recalled. "So it was to his advantage, and I appealed for a hearing and asked it on the basis of friendship. More Lee's than his at that point," Talker admitted. "In fact it was at her urging."
"Like what we just saw Lee do with April," Singer said with sudden insight.
"Yes, personal influence seems to work where formal processes don't," Talker agreed.
"Ha! If you went all by official channels and strict rules it would be gridlock," Lee assured him. "Even in North America when I got fostered out to my cousin's family he made himself personally agreeable to the negative tax people to get stuff instead of demanding his rights. It works. In fact networking seems to be the only thing that keeps the whole mess from breaking down, everywhere."
"You saved me from being supplanted by a mob of officials from our bureaucracies too," Singer admitted. "I thought it was a happy accident, not devious plotting. I owe you."
"And so it starts," Lee observed. "You owe him one, and next time he has a problem you're the guy he'll call for help. Or he'll rack up more favors, knowing you play that game."
"Indeed, if that means I'm in the network, that works for me," Singer said cheerfully.
"I've been studying this English," Talker said modesty. "These people even quantify it. They'll say – I owe you one, or they'll say, I owe you a big one." The range of subtle meaning is amazing."
"Since it was an unintended favor, I think I just owe you one," Singer decided. "Besides, I wasn't even a planetary spox. I just happened to be the high Bill official in your system. With a little luck I'll go back to my job and not be rewarded with a promotion I don't really want."
"If you don't like how they treat you come see me," Lee said. "If you are willing to work hard on your English I'll give you a job."
"Really?" Singer said, surprised. "What skill set do I have you'd need?"
"If we are going to register and administer claims from your entire civilization we'll need people of all the races who can present our terms in a way that makes sense to each. I'll need help to write those rules, and the form of the applications and documents, so they seem acceptable and reasonable. To Bills in your case. I expect you'd hire others for their own species."
"That's right, you're not a government, so they can be reasonable," Singer marveled. "I suppose next you are going to tell me these forms will be short?"
"Contracts of one to three pages are very common on Derfhome," Lee remembered. "When our attorney was upset at the Commission turning down claims I thought of inviting him to Derfhome to help set up our claims system. But then I realized we won't have near as huge a formal system. I think he'd starve to death on the low volume of work, the way Derf do business. There aren't going to be ten thousand page legal nightmares. And nothing will be limited to any rigid form. If claimants feel the need to attach more information or express themselves extemporaneously that's fine with me. I suspect our bank will be useful to help us set it up."
"That job sounds interesting enough I might apply for it even if they don't find fault with me for my actions as self-appointed spox," Singer decided. "Would you consider an application even if not from necessity?” he asked.
"Yes, but Derfhome might be a hardship post for awhile, until more Bill food and goods become common." Lee frowned. "You seem quite able in English when you have something to say and get rolling. Why are you holding back other times?" she demanded.
Singer said nothing, but Talker spoke up. "Not speaking up is a staple of Bill culture," he revealed. "If you speak up and it goes well, that's fine. But the way Bill institutions work if you speak up and are shown to be wrong later, they are very unforgiving of error. You first significant mistake is usually the last of your career."
"That just removes anybody with any real experience!" Lee said, astonished. "If it doesn't kill you screwing up makes you stronger, because you won't make the same mistake again. Promote a fresh guy into the job for every mistake and he's just as likely to mess up as the old one."
"Talker has the right of it. I've seen that's not the way with you, listening to the command channel. People make all kinds of bizarre speculations and outrageous suggestions easily," Singer acknowledged. "But changing a lifetime of habit is difficult. I'll try to cultivate it if I work for you," Singer promised.
"I'm dismayed," Talker said, but it was an obvious tongue in cheek exaggeration from his theatrical gestures. He had the facial part down pretty good too. "I am the one befriended, but you didn't offer me employment if I get the boot as spox."
"I had other things in mind for you," Lee admitted. Talker looked like he regretted saying anything. Gordon tried to cover his amusement at that with a huge hand, but failed.
"Since you expressed interest in life extension therapy for Badgers, I figured to pay for whatever information we can buy on the Human version. Then if we can get somebody schooled in the theoretical side of it we'll have them come to Derfhome, and eventually on to Far Away. I figured you could supervise the effort, and we'll have it all squared away and for sale before any of your government can even decide who should be in charge of studying it.
"As far as being spox. If they don't fire you, I don't care if you double dip and get paid for both. You and your household will get a steep discount to get treated yourself of course. I'd let you guys fumble around and get it in your own sweet time, but I want it for Tish," Lee admitted.
"That's remarkably generous of you, but why Derfhome first?" Talker wondered.
"It's on the way. Gordon hired a human to provide medical services to his clan, and I figured an expert could consult with her about what she has learned about the Derf, and then once he's looked over the situation there, he can continue on to you. If he says we need to hire somebody else out of Human space for Derfhome it's a lot closer to Earth or Fargone, and we shouldn't have any trouble."
"You seem to have thought it out carefully," Talker admitted.
"Nah, that was just off the top of my head because you asked. If you have other ideas just tell me. See? That's how we do it," Lee told Singer.
"I'd like to start us on the road to get this technology too," Singer said. "I'm just not sure we have funds to buy the weapons we need for the Biters and this life extension tech too."
"We're going to buy everything public we can find on the Human techniques to apply to the Derf and Badgers," Lee reminded him. "I'll make a copy available for you," Lee offered.
"For free you mean?" Singer asked hopefully.
"Heck no. You will owe me a huge one," Lee informed him. "God only knows what it will cost you when I come to collect."
"For some weird reason that makes me feel better," Singer admitted, confused.
"Well sure. Nobody with any self respect wants to be a freeloader," Lee said.
"I'd say we need to speak to some of the life extension people on Home," Gordon said. "Maybe even go there. Why don't you ask April if she would recommend one? I bet an introduction from one of the peers of Central is a good way to start a business relationship."
"I'll do that, but I'm not going to keep calling her to the com," Lee said. "I'll drop a text message on her, without tagging it as urgent, and see what she says."
"Sounds good to me," Gordon agreed.
* * *
April called her back on com rather than text her. Lee was embarrassed she seemed to be bothering her a lot, but April seemed relaxed and friendly.
"I suggest you get an appointment with an outfit called Custom Tailored Genes. They're in the newest hab, number three. Not Mitsubishi Three, that's actually Home One. It's kind of confusing. But make sure you are going to the newest one. That usually clears things up if there's confusion. You can get the basics in one day, but if you want the whole deal and modifications it will take three days, last I heard. It used to be a lot longer with pauses between treatments."
"I wasn't setting an appointment to get treated," Lee explained. "We want to buy the information on how to do it, so we can start on altering it for the other species.
"Well sure, do that too," April agreed. "But you're here, at the best place to have it done. I know you can afford it as easy as a new pair of footies. Are you going wait and take a long star trip back later to have it done when you're already here? Or is a quick natural death suddenly looking more appealing to you for some reason?"
"Uh... "
"You know, you're really no more attractive than anyone else with your mouth hanging open," April advised her. "The only reason I can think of to put it off is if you haven't had your fill of the slumball yet, since it will make you unwelcome most everywhere. Planning on going down?"
"While I agree with you about the natural treasures of the world, the Earthies and their customs and governments can go to hell on the slow elevator, screaming all the way," Lee said, heartfelt.
"Oh, that's right, you have been down there," April said, dripping sarcasm.
"I do see your point. I'll get treated while I'm here. Who knows, maybe we can get it cheaper as a package deal," Lee hoped.
"I have no idea if he's on station, he's got a half dozen working for him and isn't always there, but if you talk to a Gerald Ames he's called Jelly. He's the owner, and he'll do deals like that. I've done quite a few trades in goods and services with him, instead of cash. He's a dear, but older than me, and smart. Don't try to slick him or he's resent it."
"I wouldn't think of it, but thanks. If we do trade in kind I'll make sure he's treated well. What kind of modifications are you talking about? Something more than just longer life?" Lee asked.
"I had a whole group of modifications in vitro," April said. "Then my mom carried me normally to term. I have a modified metabolism that runs at a higher rate and gives me more energy. It would be almost impossible to induce diabetes in me. However if food is not available make my metabolism shut down to a much lower level temporarily. I had a number of recessives edited that might lead to disease. They made sure my vision and hearing were optimum and my teeth straight. I'm optimized for long distance running. A lot of that stuff is illegal again down on Earth.
"Then when I was a little younger than you I got what would be regarded as basic life extension therapy today. I've gotten a couple tweaks of that since to make it work better. They thought after the initial work I'd live to a hundred and thirty to a hundred and fifty years old. Now they are guessing at three hundred, but nobody really knows. Anybody familiar with the history of technology expects that number to be bumped up before we attain it.
"But the sort of mods you are asking about I bought well after I had basic LET. I had my reaction time boosted significantly. My strength was increased without damaging my endurance. There is also a genetic oddity that allows multi-tasking I acquired. A minor one I picked up is the ability to synthesize vitamin C in my body. It was cheap, and if I'm ever stranded somewhere it may be handy. I've turned down some modifications."
"Why would you reject any improvements?" Lee wondered.
"There's a mod that greatly increases your memory, alters you time sense, and gives you perfect pitch. It also subtly alters your personality. I don't want anything that changes what makes me... me. I don't count that an improvement. There is also a mod that reduces the sleep you need by about half. But when you do sleep it is very deep. You can't be roused from it and function. It seems a safety hazard for a pilot to me. Also every person I've met who had that mod seem... off to me. They seem to me the sort who don't get jokes, and have a hard time sorting fiction from reality. I think they are more suggestible. So it's a what makes me, me issue again."
"Did Dr. Ames warn you about those side effects?" Lee asked.
"Heh, Jelly isn't a doctor, the way you mean it. He has several doctorates, but he's not an MD. Actually he's a veterinarian. He won't sell anything he won't take himself. And the memory mod he tried and removed. He says he likes himself better without it. I also wonder how having that good a memory is going to work, if you live a couple hundred years too. The sleeping mod he won't sell at all. He won't make anything without an undo procedure either. He's got pretty strict ethics," April said.
"Ah, that may be useful if he's a vet," Lee said.
"Most people get upset, and don't like the idea of a veterinarian practicing medicine," April observed.
"Gordon was treated by one once, here on the moon actually. The only two docs with any experience treating Derf were on Earth, and she came in to assist a Human doc when he got shot. So I'm used to the idea. He later hired her to go and offer modern medicine to his clan."
"Why her instead of an MD?" April wondered.
"They had some doctors visit the clans, but they were so disrespectful of the herbalists and traditional healers that the Mothers booted them out. Gwen isn't quite so full of herself," Lee said.
"I can picture that," April said, nodding. To Lee's surprise April added – "Call me before you go out-system and tell me how things went."
"I'll do that. Thanks," Lee said, and April disconnected before her again. She'd been worried she was making a pest of herself, but apparently not. That made her feel better.
* * *
"Gordon, I have Custom Tailored Genes on the screen and the man is offering me an appointment for nine in the morning, day after tomorrow. Would you go with me?" Lee asked.
"They on the same clock as here?" Gordon asked.
"Yeah, I asked and he told me they've been on the same clock as the moon almost since their independence. He called it Zulu time," Lee said. "Damned if I know why."
"That's why we buy web updates," Gordon reminded her.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll look it up but he's waiting. Want to go with me?" Lee repeated.
"Sure, what else am I going to do that would be half as much fun?" Gordon said gravely.
"Yes, I'm confirming that appointment," Lee spoke at the com and ended the call. She stayed there however. If she didn't look up Zulu time Gordon would bug her to death.
"You can never learn just one thing," Lee said much later.
"You said that like it's a bad thing," Gordon accused.
"Once in awhile a simple answer would be nice. How am I going to remember everything if I live hundreds of years? We'll all go crazy. No wonder April worried about it."
Gordon looked tempted to speak, and then looked away. He was being polite today.
"I know, you have to assume we aren't already crazy for that to happen," Lee said, before he could.
"You're having this conversation fine without me now," Gordon observed.
"Here's the deal. Zulu time is the same as Greenwich Mean Time, which is the time at the observatory in England where they established the zero meridian for Earth," Lee said.
"They got all the Earthies to agree on something like that? I'm amazed," Gordon said.
"Not at first," Lee agreed. "But this was at just the right time when sailing ships needed such a standard for navigation, and about the time they had clocks good enough to help navigate. But England was apparently a very big deal right then, and had the biggest navy. I guessing here, but I bet they made a lot of the charts too.
"But the Zulu time is from zero, since it's the zero meridian. But I tell you... nobody ever does things the easy way and just says zero time. It seems they used something called an acrophonic alphabet when radio was new. If it was all scratchy and garbled you'd spell out the message letter by letter with an agreed upon set of easily recognized words. So Zero Time became Zulu time. Doesn't seem like much of an improvement to me, but it was faithful to the system."
Gordon looked up scowling. "They have better radios now. They have satellite relays and fiber optics and digital processing. Why wouldn't they drop the acrophonic stuff?"
"I suspect they think it sounds suave and military," Lee said.
Gordon nodded. "They'd probably say it's cool. I read that phrase has come back for the fifth time recently. Slang is like that. It recycles."
"If we go off really far away and live for a couple hundred years, I wonder if we'd be able to make any sense of their English if we come back to visit?" Lee worried.
"You're giving this a lot of thought, aren't you? There will be problems if you live longer, but don't you think it beats the heck out of the alternative?" Gordon asked.
"You sound like April! I'm going to do it, but it's a big mental adjustment."
"It's funny, I thought being younger it would be easier for you," Gordon admitted.
"It's not. But I don't know why. Maybe it isn't my age at all – just me," Lee suggested.
"No point in me pondering it too deeply until we know they can do it for Derf," Gordon said. He seemed much calmer about that than Lee could understand.
"We'll see to that," Lee said, firmly. With her resources that meant something.
* * *
The shuttle was so luxurious it shocked Lee. The deck was carpeted in a dark grey with little yellow diamonds. Then when she boarded and looked closer they weren't diamonds, they were little stylized spaceships like the company logo. The seats were covered in leather that Lee was pretty sure was real. The bare mechanisms of conduits and ducts were not visible anywhere. Everything was covered or enclosed with custom panels and housings with texture or deeper designs.
The entire surface of the bulkhead beside them was covered with rounded off square indentations with a raised center bump like a crater on an airless world. There was a band of soft material in the deepest part. Lee knew because she reached over and poked it with a finger. She figured out pretty quickly that it absorbed the sound instead of reflecting it. The hush in the cabin just added to the sense of luxury. Everything was in different hues of gray, but with shocking yellow accents here and there.
They had an open space for Gordon with a pad and back-rest fancier than any accommodation for Derf she'd ever seen. It even had a single restraining belt like her seat, but four times as wide to take his mass into account. Lee wondered if they installed that when a Derf made a reservation or if they had enough Derf traffic to leave it installed all the time? She wasn't entirely comfortable with just a lap belt and no shoulder straps or leg restraints. But then they weren't wearing pressure suits, so any real crash would kill them before the lack of serious restraints.
When she was seated Lee was happy to see a space suit symbol and a recessed pull on the bulkhead below their screen. There were emergency suits if you could get one on in time. That made her feel better. There were privacy panels fore and aft of their seats, that curled around them a bit, but no doors; they were open to the aisle. However the sets of seats were staggered so the seats opposite were not easily in their view.
Gordon turned around to face her. She hadn't realized the low seat moved. There was no obvious switch or keyboard so he reached out and tapped the screen. It came to life showing the flight deck. The crew were busy doing some sort of preflight. Probably getting clearances too, Lee guessed.
In the bottom corner a window said SERVICE, and showed the outline of a drinking glass and a cocktail glass. A line drawing of a balloon figure showed it bent slightly at the waist offering a generic box to a seated figure. So there must be food and maybe other stuff available too.
"Would you like something to drink?" Gordon asked, finger poised over the little window to tap it.
"I'm not sure. Is there a head in this can?" Lee worried.
"Not only a head, but handicap sized, so I can use it if I turn around very carefully," Gordon said.
"Fine, order me a Mocha then, please," Lee asked. "Where's the delivery port?" she asked, looking under the screen and finding nothing.
"You didn't read the company site after making reservations," Gordon said with certainty. "They have a Human flight attendant on each vessel over twelve seats, to serve refreshments and any other service you require."
"Oh my God, servants. Now I know we're rich," Lee said. "Can I get a manicure or my hair cut?"
"Only if you tell them ahead. They invite you to let them know if you require 'special services'."
Lee just looked at him like he'd gone around the bend. This was hard to believe.
"You can also reserve a 'suite' on the larger shuttles that allows you to recline, but not in this smaller shuttle, and I hardly thought we'd need that.”
Gordon tapped the little window and a face appeared. "How may I help you?" a pleasant young man asked. The screen captioned it and offered translations too.
"I'd like a Derf sized coffee with brandy and my Human traveling companion would like a mug of Mocha," Gordon requested.
"Thank you. You are third in queue, so it will be about ten minutes," he said, and the window reverted and became smaller too.
The attendant brought their drinks and pulled out a holder for each of them. Lee saw the hole but had thought it was an air vent, until he stuck a finger in it and pulled.
"Not bad, huh?" Gordon asked with a sweep of his eyes that encompassed everything.
"I think this is what they mean in my historic novels by 'traveling first class'." Lee said.
"Yeah, except they used to actually have separate sections on airplanes, depending on how expensive your ticket was," Gordon told her. "They called the cheap section with the cramped seats different names, economy, coach, or business, but they might as well have called them steerage or the 'cattle car' to be honest."
"Steerage? Cattle car I can figure out, but that's a new one."
"That's from steamships. Steerage was down in the bottom where the greasy bare cables were strung that worked the rudder. The only thing worse would have been the bilge where water leaking in collected and had to be pumped out. Nobody could ride there, except maybe a few rats."
"We always pampered our rats," Lee said, distressed at the idea, even though they weren't pets.
"And the mice and sparrows," Gordon remembered fondly. He didn't bother to explain.
Chapter 31
The docking was smooth. To the point Lee wasn't sure that's what had happened. She'd been on shuttles that made more of a racket when you flushed the toilet. When they entered it went very quickly. There was a woman in a blue security uniform behind a lectern. A white plate in a frame stuck up on the edge closest to them, and a bar raised over it like a safety bumper. They couldn't see her board, but it was obvious she was reading something for each of them who moved forward. Gordon was in front of her so his bulk kept her from seeing the process for the fellow ahead of him.
Lee stayed close and looked around Gordon to see what was happening.
"Name?" The lady asked. She didn't seem surprised by a Derf.
"Gordon," was all he gave, not his full name.
"Would you touch the pad please?" the agent requested.
Gordon touched the white surface with a single digit and after he withdrew it there was a very brief flash. Apparently it worked just fine for Derf.
"Name please," the woman asked Lee. She seemed a little nicer for some reason.
"Lee Anderson," she said, taking her cue from Gordon to use the short form.
"Touch the plate please," she requested.
Lee did, but there was no sensation. It wasn't particularly hot or cold. She couldn't tell that anything had happened. It did flash again once she removed her hand.
"It's a taster pad?" Lee asked.
"Yes, it reads your DNA," the woman confirmed.
"What's the flash then?" Lee asked puzzled.
"There are lasers in the bar. They heat the surface very briefly to sanitize it. Any organic traces, or disease, are vaporized," she explained. "The Loonies wouldn't touch it otherwise."
That was interesting. She had them pegged as not Loonies.
"What would it do if your hand was still there?" Lee wondered.
"Stick it back," the woman offered. She did something on her board and it flashed again. Lee didn't feel anything, but she thought she smelled it.
"It burns a few dead cells away, but your hand conducts heat away much better than the ceramic. Of course your hand is now free of any bacteria or viruses. But there are two more passengers behind you, so if you want more details please wait until they've been processed."
"Oh! I'm sorry. No thanks, that's plenty.” Lee moved away and looked back at the man behind her.
"I'm sorry. I'm not used to lines."
He smiled, and looked at her more thoroughly. "Deep space? Family ship?" he assessed.
"Something very much like that, yeah. Thank you," Lee said and hurried after Gordon.
"They don't care what you call yourself, do they?" Lee asked.
"That's the impression I got too," Gordon agreed.
The elevator had arrows and toe bars on the side that would be down. They oriented themselves and waited while a couple other people came in behind them. When they were all positioned the doors closed and the screen announced they would drop to the outer ring in fifteen seconds. Nobody was getting off in the higher rings, apparently. They felt an odd tug towards the deck and then a pull the other way as the elevator started moving slowly.
Gordon looked over at Lee astonished, and then clamped his mouth back shut, visibly deciding not to say something.
They slowly grew heavier and when the doors opened signage directed them to the cafeteria and the communications room. Businesses each way down the corridor were listed, including the Lunar Suites where they had reservations.
"I'm a bit hungry," Gordon announced, which didn't exactly surprise Lee. "I'm sure the hotel has food, but the cafeteria is right here. Why don't we see how the natives eat?" Gordon suggested.
"I'll find room for something," Lee agreed, although it was a little early.
There was a screen at the entry explaining the options. You could order a la carte, which looked to be pretty expensive. A 500 gram steak dinner was 143.00 USNA$, 37.00 Ceres$, or .0032 ☼. Bean coffee was 8.00 Ceres$, a breakfast muffin sandwich 18 Ceres$. They noted day, week, month or annual cards, single or family, as well as discounted off shift rates and a breakfast only option.
"It smells OK," Gordon said. His nose was much keener than Lee's. "We need supper and maybe a snack later, tomorrow and another three days for your treatment. Maybe breakfast the day we go back. It looks to me like the week card would be the way to go even if we don't use a day."
There was a teller to buy the cards, and an automated buffet beside a hot bar, then an open counter to the kitchen for cooked to order. Gordon went over there and must have tripped some sort of sensor because a young man immediately appeared.
"Excuse me. Can you tell me what the rate for Derf is?" Gordon inquired.
"Same as the Human family plan," the young fellow said. "The cost is in labor and transport more than bulk cost. It doesn't take me longer to dish up for you than her," he said, nodding at Lee. "We never have more than two or three Derf on station. Sometimes none. It would be more trouble to set up a different payment scheme than we'd gain. Even the family plan is the same whether you have two or six."
"Ah, I love a bargain!" Gordon said. "We'll buy week cards and be right back."
"If you want something cooked to order tell me and I'll get it started," the fellow offered. "You can pay after it comes up. If it's not on the board," he said waving at the three big screens behind him, "it's a special order, but still cheaper than a la carte."
Gordon considered the board critically. "I'll have Grandmother's meatloaf with candied yams, the corn bread and sautéed spinach with bacon and onions, as well as the peanut butter pie."
"Anything to drink?"
"Do you have a mug suitable for Derf?"
"Of course," the fellow said, looking hurt.
"Then coffee is fine. And whatever my daughter wants," Gordon inclined his head to Lee.
To the fellow's credit he only blinked twice before looking at Lee expectantly.
"A Slim King Jim," she had no idea what that was, but she loved the cute names, "the fries, the same pie as Gordon," Lee decided, "and coffee."
"Coming right up," the fellow promised. If he entered it into their system it wasn't visible. Maybe they had voice recognition, but that usually had a feedback screen to double check.
They went back and bought the week cards. A fellow grabbed a quarter kilo hamburger and salad off the auto buffet and it looked decent, but bite size for Gordon. He'd probably order six of seven of them. But it was still promising.
Their stuff came pretty fast even figuring the time to buy cards. Gordon's on two trays. He had what looked like half a meatloaf, maybe three kilos with gravy, with a serving bowl of spinach. On the other tray the yams had raisins and cinnamon, Lee could smell. The corn bread had little flecks of something in it and kernel corn. Gordon looked pleased, but he asked, "Did you forget the pie?"
"No sir. If I give it to you now the ice cream will melt. You do want ice cream don't you?"
"Ah, my error. You have everything under control, carry on."
Lee found out a Slim King Jim was a half loaf of Italian bread slit and grilled, with about two centimeters of fried honey ham dripping with cheese and an interesting sauce. The fries were much better than any shipboard fries.
"I don't know about anything else," Gordon said, after he'd made some headway on his supper, “but I could easily live with the food here."
"You've only tried one thing," Lee objected.
"But I can tell somebody back there knows what they're doing."
"What surprised you in the elevator?" Lee asked.
"Oh, that! Didn't you feel it?" Gordon asked. "We got heavier before the elevator moved. Normally you'd be hanging on your toe straps with that setup."
"I thought it worked pretty well," Lee said. "It just felt odd, because it was like somebody grabbed you by the ankles."
"Exactly. They have something very much like the Badgers' gravity plates. The field is much stronger right by your feet than your head. It sure does feel weird. That's what I noticed too."
"That shouldn't surprise us," Lee said. "You played me that conversation with Mr. Ellis. He said straight out they have high acceleration, so they must have some gravity tech, I expect the story about the crater and having pure fusion weapons will prove true too. Between that and everything Captain Roosevelt told us I'd say we didn't have any idea about what went on here before," Lee said.
"Yes, I'm sorry I doubted Jeremiah and Captain Roosevelt both, quite strongly. I'm still having a hard time coming to grips with the things April told us, but I believe them, now."
That seemed to embarrass Gordon to admit, and he ate silently for awhile.
"You notice some of the folks here have spex without any lenses? Lee asked.
"I wondered about that," Gordon admitted. "It looks funny to me."
"Yeah, it will take some time not to notice it. I like the feeling that my eyes are protected, and you can't darken the lenses for privacy," Lee pointed out.
"Maybe that's considered more polite, not to hide behind them," Gordon said.
"You know, April didn't admit they have jump ships that don't need a strong vector on their targets to jump out,” Lee reminded him, changing the subject abruptly. "She avoided the subject instead of giving you a real answer. But I'd still bet everything in my accounts that's what we saw that time."
"That's what we saw," Gordon agreed. "If it wasn't them it was somebody else. It wasn't any kind of an illusion. They're the best candidate, so I can't argue that one. The only reason she'd infer they had the tech when they didn't, would be to throw us off who does. I already decided she's far too much like you – a real straight shooter – to play those kind of games."
"Yeah, I like her too," Lee agreed.
"But I'm glad you didn't take her up on becoming a subject," Gordon said.
"You still want to do some polishing on me, I know."
"That's a fact," Gordon admitted. "I promised to do that." That was as close as he'd come in a long time to reminding her about her parents' death. She wasn't near as sensitive about it now.
"Are you going to finish that?" Gordon asked of her sandwich. "It smells really good."
"No way." Lee said; she'd eaten maybe half. "Finish it off and we'll get pie." She didn't bother to worry it might not leave him room for pie. It took him four bites.
"That should be illegal," Gordon said of the pie when he was finished. They'd brought him a half pie still in the pan with vanilla ice cream filling the other half.
"The chocolate crust surprised me. It works well," Lee said. Gordon found 'well' entirely inadequate.
"Can you waddle to the hotel?" Lee asked. "Or shall I call a freight cart?"
"It takes a lot more than that to make me waddle," Gordon assured her.
* * *
Gordon was favorably impressed with the hotel. The corridors were wide and the rooms suited to Derf. The entry door was a double and the shower looked like you could park a ground car in it. His room had a pad and Lee's a bed. It didn't have a garden like April's guest rooms on the moon, but there were a few live plants tucked in the corners and hanging in baskets.
The message light was already blinking when they went in and Gordon took a walk through and tipped the fellow who brought their luggage in, even though it was led on an automated cart. He did hang some things and asked if they needed cleaning services. Lee declined having her things put away, because she wanted to know where they were without searching.
"Huh, interesting," Gordon said when he read the message waiting for them.
"What's that?" Lee was forced to inquire when he didn't volunteer more.
"Thor informs me the Caterpillar ship and Central have been carrying on protracted conversations with each other. At some point they apparently got across how to do encryption and everything stopped being in the clear at that point."
"I wouldn't know how to tell them that," Lee admitted. "Sounds like they've already got ahead of us with them. I admit, I was just as glad the Caterpillars weren't pestering us while we were all involved with other stuff. I imagine April's people will share what they learned about communicating with them if we ask."
"They learned awfully fast," Gordon said, skeptically. After making faces and thinking on it awhile he shared his thoughts further. "April said they are established off deep. Very deep. Maybe they have some experience already talking to Caterpillars. We have no idea how far they range."
“Caterpillars or Central?" Lee asked, uncertain.
"Both really. She spoke about the Centaurs like they weren't unknown to them," Gordon added.
"Well yeah. If they leave huge buildings and junk abandoned all over like the stuff we found, that wouldn't surprise me." Lee said.
"But April didn't say. I like her," Gordon added, before he sounded too negative, "but I'd be a lot more comfortable with her if she was more forthcoming. Even Gabriel volunteered things much more."
"But that was because he was so smitten with me," Lee reminded him.
"Hmm... Maybe I'm playing this wrong," Gordon suggested. "Are you up to a little eyelash fluttering and coy smiles? Pour the feminine charm on and get the fellow to babble everything?"
"Probably not," Lee said. "I suspect my efforts might make Gabriel rupture something from the spasms of laughter, not babble secrets. I'll keep that in mind as a needed skill set."
"Yeah, you probably need to start learning that stuff at about four years old," Gordon admitted.
"If we see each other again I'll just ask," Lee decided. "I think he'll admire the forthrightness far more than any social wiles I can fake this late in the game."
Gordon nodded. "You’re right. He's seen plenty of the other in a century. You're interesting because you're different, not the same."
"This is scary, but I actually understand that," Lee said surprised. "I can even see how to cultivate it and use it. Which means I'm getting socialized, but not by becoming more like them."
"Whatever works," Gordon said, shrugging.
"No really, because I want to get along with people, but I haven't had any desire to become like them. It's encouraging. I know it's possible now."
"Call him up if you want," Gordon said, making an effort to seem indifferent. "Since it's atypical social behavior he'll probably like it."
"Is it really? Why's it atypical?" Lee asked.
"I'm not sure. But if you watch enough old video you'll see that the social convention is that the female waits on the male to call her." He screwed his nose up and had that – thinking about it hard – look again. "I'm embarrassed to say I never questioned it, because Derf do the same thing to a large degree."
"That seems silly," Lee decided. "If I want to call him I shall," she decided.
Gordon said nothing.
* * *
Lee didn't know what to expect. She'd seen medical facilities when they came back in from the beyond. Mostly they had direct access to the rooms needed because of isolation. She had a vague idea of a real hospital having sterile white corridors and equally bright and antiseptic treatment rooms. Somewhat like in old videos, but updated. Patient tables with padded tops and all sorts of complicated electronic equipment that could be extracted from various cubbies and closets as needed and then retracted.
She didn't expect a room that wasn't obviously for treatment or business, not even as an office. By all appearances it was a very lovely room that might be more suited to a residence. It had a wooden floor, where wood was an ostentatious display of wealth. Lee felt like she should be required to scrub her shoes before she could walk on it. But the center of all that expensive wood was hidden by a rug with complex patterns and a fringe at opposite ends.
They were escorted in by a young woman even Lee, with her lately acquired and limited understanding of the standards of human beauty, knew to be lovely. She didn't have on scrubs, but rather a long flowing skirt of some soft material Lee would call tan, but an Earthie might label camel. A pale yellow silk blouse that had complex patterns in the weave. She had a scarf around her neck with a profusion of life sized day lilies in oranges and yellows.
Lee knew how to tie a number of practical knots, but she had no idea how to tie a big square of fabric like that so it hug attractively. The woman was coppery tan herself, an interesting color Lee hadn't seen yet on people. She had on bracelets, an oddity for a spacer to see. In fact she must have at least a dozen. They weren't plain, and didn't all line up neatly so it was hard to tell exactly. If that wasn't all exotic enough, she wore a dagger in an embossed gold sheath, which flipped up on the end to make a J shape, and just between her eyes a little yellow dot painted that matched her blouse.
Gordon took a seat in the corner of a L shaped sofa that offered sufficient support with an ottoman pushed in the corner. Lee took the end on the long leg.
"Would you care for some refreshment?" their attendant offered.
"Coffee please," Gordon said. He had enough confidence not to ask if they had appropriate cups.
"Something wet. Surprise me," Lee said. "I'm not picky."
Gordon was the one surprised. He's never seen Lee do that before.
When she returned Gordon's coffee was in a silver service with cream and sugar. She presented Lee with a tall cold glass full of a slush, and watched expectantly.
"Ah, you didn't disappoint me," Lee said. "It's good. Some of the flavors seem familiar, but I have no idea what is in it.
"Pineapple and coconut milk blended with ice, and just a little lime and salt. If you added rum it would be a Piña Colada. But I wouldn't presume to add that when you are conducting business," she added. "If you need me just speak up. The house computer will summon me."
"Pretty fancy," Lee said after their escort left.
"For an orbital hab? It's fabulous," Gordon agreed.
Their drinks weren't gone before a casually dressed fellow came in.
"Good morning. I'm Gerald Ames." He was a bit loud, but enthusiastic, not aggressive. "I understand you’re from out-system. We don't get a lot of customers from outside the solar system." He made himself comfortable in a chair.
"Customers or patients?" Lee asked, surprised at the word.
"Well, I'm not an MD. I'm Doctor Ames several times over but not the right sort, and I think demanding to be addressed that way is pretentious. You may call me Jelly. Most of my customers know that I'm not an MD, but it's an old habit from when some of them might take patient to imply I was... "
"We didn't know we'd meet you," Gordon said. "We have an appointment today to look into treatment for Lee here. We'd have asked about meeting you if it seemed warranted for our other needs."
"Lee wouldn't strictly need to meet me for treatment, but April dropped me a message to say you were coming. She said your group was interesting, so I wanted to meet you myself."
"April Lewis said you were a vet. That doesn't put us off at all," Lee assured him. "In fact we are in the market for more than treatment for me. We'd like to buy the literature and papers to apply the tech to Derf like Gordon here, and for some other star species we met recently. We'd like to hire somebody to head the development for us."
"Well, your treatment is no problem. There aren't any conditions that preclude it, although a serious illness might have to be treated first before starting. You don't have any raging infections or cancer, known parasites or active autoimmune disorders do you?"
"Not to my knowledge," Lee said.
"Not that we won't scan you and take samples temple to toenails," Jelly said cheerfully. "If you do the full course it will take about three days. By the time you are done I will have answers about those other needs. I'm not aware of anyone who has undertaken a project to apply LET tech to aliens.”
Jelly looked embarrassed. "There are some services I do by referral. Things I won't do in my company, that may apply. I'll look into that, but may have to send you to the people involved."
Lee was concerned. This didn't sound like the ethical standards April had implied.
"April mentioned you wouldn't sell anything you wouldn't use yourself," Lee repeated. "That sounded like an excellent standard for us to stick to."
Jelly looked confused for a second and then laughed. "For humans, yeah. We don't like to talk about it in the trade, and I personally think they are nuts, but we have some customers who want LET for their pets. Now some of the tech was developed with mice, primates are just tremendously expensive to use for testing, and you have to wait almost as long as actually using humans to see the results. Very few people seem to request life extension therapy for their pet mice for some reason. But they do ask it for dogs and cats. Enough of them that people have ported the tech to them," Jelly revealed.
"I've heard of some asking about other species, even parrots, which is interesting, because they are long lived anyway. However when they are informed what the development costs will be for an entire new species, even billionaires suddenly reassess their attachment to their pet ferret. So yeah, I won't try LET for Fido. God only knows what it would do. Screw up some metabolic pathway or hormonal balance big time. You could bet it would induce a new disease. But the techniques those folks have for porting LET to other species might be applicable to Derf or whoever."
"Ah, I understand now," Lee said, embarrassed.
"No, no. Don't be. People have done some weird gene mods with people. Webbed hands and feet, super night vision, and big steerable ears like a fox. We don't get into that though."
"You do offer more practical mods though, right?" Lee asked.
"Sure. Faster reaction time. Vitamin C synthesis. The ability to do multitasking. Increased physical strength, but it does alter your appearance," Jelly warned. "We also clean up any known genetic defects and tweak your metabolism to handle a modern diet better. We can speed it a bit if you like."
"Added strength bulks you up?" Lee asked.
"No. It's surprisingly counterintuitive, but in slims you a bit and makes the musculature a bit more sharply defined. There are some others I offer with reservations. Especially if you aren't local to have them removed if you decide you don't want them."
"Those are the ones we heard about. I want that package," Lee said. "But not any of the ones that change personality."
Jelly nodded. "I'll hand you off to a technician then. Are you going to stay with your daughter or do you need a guide for the hab or entertainment?" he asked Gordon.
"I'll stick with her. I have my pad and can check on business and have a few videos and books I've been waiting to view."
"What does it cost?" Lee remembered to ask.
"A bit over three million dollars Ceres right now. I understand you two have claims on a Class A planet?" Jelly asked, clearly amused she'd mention money.
"Oh yeah, but I still like to ask," Lee told him. "Bill the Bank of Derfhome in my name."
"Fine, Doctor Evans will be right in to get you started," Jelly said, and left.
"Did Jelly seem a little manic to you?" Lee asked.
"No, not really. He just seemed happy," Gordon said. "I don't see it that often, it's true. But rare as it is I don't think we should elevate it to a disorder."
The lady who came to take them to treatment did have on scrubs.
Chapter 32
Most of the treatments consisted of relaxing in a recliner with monitors attached while some fluid was slowly released into a vein. Lee did some reading too, until she was tired of it. Lee just relaxed and listen to some music for most of it. When a tech asked brightly what music she enjoyed he was surprised it was what he considered oldies. Her music growing up was all what her parents had liked.
When they released her she was amazed that three days of sitting around was exhausting and she apologized. Gordon didn't seem surprised she just wanted to go to the hotel and sleep.
"The stress of having strangers do things to you that you don't really understand is a perfectly logical reason to be tired. I'm tired from watching it done to you. Do you feel any different?" Gordon asked her.
"No. I think it takes some time to work on you. Maybe it makes demands on your body, and that's part of why I'm so tired. I didn't think to ask."
"I'm going to order some room service in. Try to eat a little something before you crash out," Gordon advised. He did look a little tired too.
They'd been very well-fed in the clinic, but it was cute how solicitous Gordon was of her. Lee agreed and had a some fruit salad, before flopping face down on her bed.
Both felt better in the morning. Gordon was talking quietly with Talker and Singer on comm. Lee got some coffee and was just half listening, because it was calm and they were discussing when they would return to Derfhome and then on back to Far Away. Gordon couldn't have been up long because pretty soon he ordered in breakfast for them.
Lee looked in the public directory and found a Central code for Gabriel. He didn't seem at all surprised when Lee showed up on his screen. He was so calm she had this irrational desire to shock him, just to prove all his experience didn't mean he could predict everything.
"I wonder if we might get together?" Lee asked. "I have some questions piled up to run past you." That got just a momentary pause that Lee enjoyed causing.
"Certainly. Might I have the pleasure of taking you to dinner again? You seemed to enjoy the place we went before, or there are a lot of others to try."
"I have things I'd rather not air in public, so why don't you come to our rooms? We're on Home right now, but we'll be back in Armstrong by supper time."
"As you wish," Gabriel agreed. "Say, 1900?"
"That should be safe. I haven't asked Gordon when our shuttle returns, but I know him. He won't want to sit around all day waiting on one."
"Should I dress?" Gabriel asked.
"No. This isn't a party. You're the only guest. I'll keep it informal unless you are itching to get dressed up," Lee said.
"It can be fun," Gabriel said, which surprised her. She'd formed the idea men didn't care for fancy clothes. Where had she gotten that idea? "But we'll save it to wow a crowd," he agreed.
"Later then," Lee concluded and disconnected. "Gordon, I have Gabriel coming for dinner at 1900. Is that OK? Will we be back in plenty of time?"
"Sure, no problem," Gordon said, not even looking up from his screen.
* * *
The shuttle going back wasn't as nice. The seats weren't leather, but a fabric that was scratchy and made Lee wish she hadn't worn shorts. On top of that there was a faint smell to the cabin that was probably one of the other passengers’ body odor. The crew didn't allow the live feed on their screen to see them working. The way they jerked the vessel around, Lee wasn't surprised they didn't want anybody watching. From the look on Gordon's face he was glad to have the flight over too.
Lee scrubbed thoroughly in the shower as soon as they got back on put on fresh clothes with long pants. Her single concession to Gabriel coming was she put on a favorite print blouse.
The rough flight killed any desire to go out exploring mid-day. They holed up and both did research. They both wanted to use the full net access as long as they were in-system. They had a sandwich smorgasbord set up and made their own, distressing the fellow who delivered it and had expected to stay and make their sandwiches for them. A good tip from Gordon cheered him up.
The things she found online to confirm what April told them made her want to resume her study of history. She'd do it in a linear fashion again, but from the present back.
When it was coming up on 1700 Lee asked Gordon if he wanted a buffet or just to order individual meals from room service.
"I haven't seen much of a sample of the young man's tastes," Gordon said. "Let's do orders."
"He's not a young man," Lee reminded him.
"You're right," Gordon said, getting a funny look on his face. "It's so easy to fall back on appearances. That's a hard habit to break. I suggest when we have dinner with him you don't spoil the relaxed mood of the meal too much. Ask your questions after, when he's full and relaxed."
"That makes sense," Lee agreed. "And it's good hospitality too."
Gabriel showed up punctually at 1900. Lee let him in and told Gordon he was here. Gordon begged just a minute for the material he had on screen. That wasn't unusual, so Lee took Gabriel to the main seating area and sat in one corner of a sofa facing him. He declined the offer of a drink, or rather put it off for a little bit.
How he was dressed was interesting and she was about to ask about that when he inquired about their trip to Home, and Lee found herself recounting the whole thing from the shuttle ride over and comparing it to the one back. She went on about how she found Home, and how amused she was over Gordon's enthusiasm for the cafeteria food, which they never had managed to get back and try again.
Lee's own life extension treatment Gabriel approved of with a terribly serious expression, and he nodded asking questions here and there, and explained a little about Indian culture when she described how interesting and lovely the receptionist was who welcomed them to Jelly's clinic. He explained how her appearance was very much a mix of styles and cultures, but not traditional Indian costume, describing a sari, and that the dagger was probably an Arabian adaptation.
When they sat down Lee had had no idea what she could say for chit-chat to fill the time until when Gordon was ready, and now found almost an hour had passed and Gordon was suggesting he was starved and could they come and order some dinner?
* * *
Gordon asked if he'd like to review the hotel's menu to order, and Gabriel reminded him that Central had other guests in the suite, so he'd had dinner with people here on a number of occasions. Indeed he recommended several items that he particularly liked the way the hotel prepared.
"I just realized, we never thought to ask if you had other guests or plans for the rooms," Lee said. "We just sort of stayed on after our business with April was concluded, and never considered that maybe we should move on to our own suite."
"It costs the same empty or occupied, and it probably gets used three or four times a year. Don't worry about it," Gabriel assured Lee. "April wouldn't have said anything if your dealings with the Claims Commission had gone better and you’d camped out here a couple months."
Gordon got a whole ham. One of his favorite things almost any human kitchen prepared to his liking, and enough side dishes to feed a village in Ethiopia for a month.
Lee got spaghetti because it came two ways, as a small serving or the deep dish version that was to share or for the hearty appetite. Her appetite was particularly hearty tonight, and she got meatballs, Italian sausage and an antipasto platter to go with it.
"You got the boosted metabolism from Jelly, didn't you?" Gabriel asked, amused.
"Yes!" Lee said, looking shocked. "All day long I've been thinking – I don't feel any different – I don't feel any different – every few minutes. Then when I did I didn't recognize it."
Gabriel just nodded, and ordered mixed kabobs with Syrian rice, hummus, cucumber-garlic sauce and pita bread. The lemonade he ordered turned out to be a slush and Lee, remembering the drink at the clinic, ordered a Piña Colada. When it came she thought it was OK, but she liked it better without the rum.
"I thought kabobs were on skewers?" Lee said when his kabobs came with the meats in a pile.
"Ah, but a good kitchen will strip them off for you, just like they will crack a lobster or bone a fish, so you don't have to fight with it," Gabriel explained.
The meal came with slices of vegetables, which Lee was sure he hadn't ordered, and little purple sticks of some julienned vegetable.
"What's the purple stuff?" Lee wondered.
"A very traditional garnish. Pickled turnips. They add a few beets to the mix to give it color. Otherwise it's rather unexciting looking, even if it has the same tart taste. It goes rather well with anything that tends to greasy, like the lamb. Here, take a bite of your sausage and then try the turnip," Gabriel instructed, leaning over and setting it on the edge of her antipasto.
"Yes, that works," Lee agreed, after she tried the combination.
Gordon smiled at him feeding her.
"I should have got red wine," Lee said, "but I chose the Piña Colada poorly and red wine seemed a conflict after it."
When they finished Gordon begged off to check his messages, and said he wanted to ask Talker about something. Lee and Gabriel went back to the sofa and had no trouble taking up where they left off. Lee had to remind herself she was going to bring the conversation around to her questions.
From the com board Gordon broke forth with an angry exclamation in Derf. Lee hoped Gabriel didn't know the language. A few of the things Gordon said in a stage whisper were nasty, and the majority of other words he said in the same tone she suspected too, even if she didn't know them.
Talker hurried in followed not far behind by Singer.
"I better see what is going on," Lee decided. She went to the com console where Gordon had an actual sheet in his hand he'd printed out. She hadn't excluded him so Gabriel followed.
"We got a drone message," Gordon said, flapping the sheet. "The Mothers inform us the Badgers sent a ship and support after us with spox from the Home World. The people we left behind would neither give them explicit navigational data nor would they escort them, but they knew the vector pretty well from our talks about ceding a cone of territory.
"They are upset because they don't consider Talker a grand enough pooh-bah to represent the race, so they jammed damn near a hundred mucky-mucks in a liner and a big freighter to support them and took off to find us. They lucked onto Derfhome. Them arriving got the USNA commander at Derfhome station all riled up, because they had our docking design from our visit and had an adaptor on the liner. The captain of the Albuquerque undocked because he wouldn't stay docked with an alien vessel on the same station."
"I'd worry more about being docked with a strange ship loose in the system," Lee said. "Once they dock you know they aren't going to do anything nasty connected to the same station."
"That's because you're not a flaming... " Whatever it was he thought to say, Gordon swallowed it.
"They orbited Derfhome and did a deep scan and radar survey of Red Tree. The Sharp Claws took up an aggressive position and painted them hard with targeting radar in response. The idiot Earthie threatened them, and the Fargone commander invited him to launch, and taunted him with the fact Fargone has had better missiles for the last decade. He promised the Albuquerque would eat missiles from four ships and there wouldn't be a trace of her to be found a millimeter long. That seems to have cooled his jets for awhile, because he knew it was the plain truth."
"You haven't sent word by drone that we accepted your new Claims organization?" Talker asked.
"I had no idea we need rush that message back to the Mothers," Gordon admitted. "If I had it might have made it worse, causing these bureaucrats to rush here all the faster to put their brand on the deals being made. As it is they tell me Talker’s dad is with them. Apparently they could not easily refuse him to come see to his son. He has taken Lee's invitation to visit the clan keep and is delaying there to keep them from leaving. The Mothers inform me they have arranged for Derfhome traffic to refuse clearance for the Badger vessels to undock and leave the system, but they have no idea how long that will work to detain them. They may have left already."
"That will be a mess if we cross over in transit, and they come here contradicting arrangements we've made," Talker said.
"Do they say anything about Bill officials?" Singer asked.
"No, just Badgers," Gordon said.
"Well thank the Gods for that small favor. I don't have to deal with my glorious ones, and you can use the leverage that we have mutual agreements," Singer suggested.
"What would be your ideal action?" Gabriel asked.
"To be there, now, with the Retribution and Talker and Singer aboard to help obstruct these idiots from coming to Earth ," Gordon said. "
"Indeed if we were there we could insist they examine our new agreements with you. We could frame it as coming to Earth groveling, when they already rejected any interest in our region," Talker said. "They are most sensitive to any such accusation."
"I have my own ship," Gabriel said. "I can transport you with your friends today if you wish."
"I'm sure your ship is faster than ours," Gordon admitted. "You guys have some awesome tech. But we all need to be there in the Retribution, with its fire-power, to not keep depending on Fargoer intervention. I meant we need to be there today, not start out today."
"I can have your ship there today. If you don't stand around arguing until it is tomorrow," Gabriel said pointedly.
"You can take the Retribution inboard?" Gordon asked, incredulous. "Or are you talking about grappling a heavy cruiser?"
"Neither. I can jump with you in my... Let's call it sphere of influence. That's as much as you need to know," Gabriel said. The maddening part was how calm and matter of fact he was.
"Won't you get in trouble with your queen?" Lee asked.
"My sovereign has never been one to manage our every little move. In any case, following the principle that forgiveness is easier to ask than permission, I didn't intend to ask."
"You'd do that for us?" Lee asked.
"Perhaps not," Gabriel admitted, and shrugged. "But I'll do it for you," he said to Lee.
That was a visceral jolt to Lee. Her mouth hung open, which helped save her from saying anything stupid. She shut her mouth, swallowed, and said. "Please, I'd appreciate that."
Gabriel nodded like he'd just offered her a favor like an after-dinner mint. "If you will board, and take the Retribution on a run for jump to the Derfhome course, I'll match vectors with you in about an hour. That'll be far enough out to keep it from too many eyes in the Earth system. If you hurry a bit to give us more distance it would be appreciated. Would you care to ride with me?" he asked Lee.
"That sounds like fun," Lee said, in as steady a voice as she could manage.
"Then we'll be off," Gabriel told Gordon and the shell shocked aliens. "See you outbound."
"I need to grab some things," Lee said. She flew in her room and stuffed her things in her bag. She was back out the door in three minutes. She gave a little wave to Gordon who looked almost as rattled as the aliens seeing her leaving. "See you at Derfhome," she called and didn't look back.
* * *
"We'll go straight to my ship," Gabriel informed her.
"Don't you need to pack anything?" Lee asked.
"I always have a few things in my ship. Any civilized world can provide some socks and a toothbrush. I try not to get to attached to an accumulation of things, but I admit I'm rather fond of my ship," Gabriel said, with a whimsical little smile.
"Is your ship at the Commission Field?" Lee wondered.
"No, it's at Central. Well, it was at Central. I called on my spex and instructed it to meet us at the Armstrong public field," Gabriel explained.
"They accept robotic vehicles?" Lee asked, surprised. Unmanned shuttles were common for orbital delivery, but not accepted for landings mixed with manned traffic.
"No, but they won't know it's unmanned. The Cricket has its own voice, and a perfectly clean set of bona fides. It will speak with Lunar control and tell them it needs to sit down on a hot pad to pick up passengers. If they want to chat about the flutterball championships or the baseball season down on Earth, it's quite capable of carrying on a conversation at that level."
Gabriel looked over and saw Lee looked somewhere between horrified and fascinated.
"It's a very versatile AI. It might falter to discuss theology or higher mathematics, but it's perfectly capable of carrying on an informal Turing test. It would take some time with an expert to expose her. The Republic hasn't kept up, so there's no point in arguing with them about antiquated laws," he assured her. "Trying to change them would require revealing too much."
Lee had a deeply ingrained spacer reverence for safety regulations. She said nothing.
They took the private elevator up, got a taxi and went into Armstrong. Stopped and switched to a much different van shaped taxi that had a docking collar at one end. When they got near the public field Gabriel informed her the ship was down and waiting for them. The taxi exited through a vehicle lock and went down a line of ships turning to the sixth in line and mated to the ship's airlock without any intervention on Gabriel's part. Unless he’d done it with his spex, but Lee didn't think so. He was too relaxed.
"I'm following traffic control and system scan in my spex," Gabriel told Lee. “I've had the Cricket ask for clearance and we're in count to lift. Your father and friends already have clearance to lift to the Retribution, and they should break orbit not too far behind us."
The hatch opened and they passed through what looked like a pretty normal airlock, except it had a bench on one side; that was more common on bigger locks.
There was a very short corridor, perhaps a little over three meters, and then they entered a small circular space Lee assumed to be on the centerline of the ship. There were two hatches and a bunch of sealed storage on the perimeter. Gabriel walked to a central pole piercing the deck and overhead and grabbed a take-hold on the pole.
"Lift," he said clearly, and was tugged off the deck. "Come along," he called down to Lee. When another handle appeared ascending she grabbed it. It was an easy lift in the lunar gravity. She hadn't realized they had entered the ship on the level under the control spaces. The view out of the taxi had been very limited and she hadn't seen how high the ship towered above them.
Gabriel waved an invitation for her to take the right seat, and started strapping in his own couch. The seat was powered and had bulky bands that went across it folded out of the way at the moment. She strapped in and looked over at Gabriel.
"Just let the seat position itself," he instructed. "Leave the manual controls down by your hands alone. I don't have a lock-out here. I've never needed one."
Another voice startled her. It did a very credible imitation of a man clearing his throat, and spoke.
"Lunar Control, Cricket of the Central Kingdom on short count to lift requests immediate partial orbit insertion at Level 20 and equatorial tangent exit to Derfhome jump vector with final adjustments in uncontrolled space. Data file follows voice. Master Dilbert Hathaway sitting the board."
"Cricket on count. Verified per your count. Be careful out there."
"Thank you, Simon."
"Safe mic?" Lee asked.
"Yes, dead mic, unless you ask for it," Gabriel confirmed.
"That's spooky," Lee said. "He sounds real. He knows the controllers?"
The loops folded down and locked over her couch and it flattened out.
Gabriel smiled. "He knows their voices. Dilbert, meet Lee. If my life signs should fail before we finish this flight please accept instruction from Lee and discuss your capabilities and her options. Try to accommodate her please." Gabriel scrunched up his eyebrows in thought. "Additional instructions. If I die this voyage also consider her your new owner and convey appropriate documentation."
"You can't do that!" Lee said. "I'm not sworn to your Lady, so I'm not privy to the tech in Cricket."
"I bet you're not privy to all the tech in your hand pad," Gabriel guessed. "But that doesn't keep you from sending messages with it. We sell a lot of tech totally sealed and encapsulated, with the understanding you don't pop it open to reverse engineer it or it may make a mess and kill you. That means if you own Cricket you still don't get to go down and open the drives."
Their conversation was interrupted by a gentle push, that held for maybe thirty seconds, and then eased off. It felt like lunar gravity again.
"Is that enough to orbit? It doesn't even feel like enough to keep us aloft," Lee worried.
"Heh, slaving your screen to mine. But not the board. We lifted at six G, and cut back to two pretty quickly. We'll coast outbound and let your father catch up with us," Gabriel said.
"Oh... " Lee said in a small voice.
After she thought about it a bit, Lee asked. "Don't people ask about weird maneuvers and ships disappearing without a full run to jump?"
"We try to be somewhat discreet in controlled space. Nothing we did back there is going to raise any eyebrows," Gabriel pointed out. "When we leave Lunar controlled space soon we'll also drop off the scan. Our allies in the Republic control scan. Our own vessels get the true scan including each other. It isn't any big issue because we have more maneuverability, so we easily avoid other traffic. There aren't that many Central ships, a few dozen. The occasional jump radiation burst that a ship may see directly, not off scan, they just ignore. Nobody want to be seen as a crank, and that's what the Earth nations are happy to paint those who see such inconvenient things."
Lee remembered that Gordon had decided to officially ignore the one he'd seen, but she said nothing.
Chapter 33
"Here we go," Gabriel pointed out what was on the display. "Retribution, on our vector, and a few hundred kilometers off in parallel. He's pulling 2.5 G which is nice, I'll cut back and let him pass, intercept and hail him because we're pretty stealthy. He can't see us right now so he's moving along, confident we'll show up as promised. I appreciate that."
Lee looked the flight cabin over in the lull. It wasn't that much different than her ships. The loops over the acceleration couches. The couches were a little more comfortable, but that was a nit. As far as the controls, a screen was a screen. It wasn't like they had foot pedals and yokes to compare. The viewports were a bit bigger and wrapped back around a little further. But it wasn't some weird futuristic thing to intimidate her. Except the AI voice. That was something.
"You got a head up here or do I have to go back down the pole?" Lee asked.
"The center door right behind us. I'll release your seat and maintain constant boost. Be careful getting up, because you'll be heavier. If you take too long and I need to maneuver, I'll call in the head and tell you to stay put. You don't want to do that and miss the show," Gabriel warned.
Lee felt heavier over the next few seconds and then the framework pivoted up and to the side like it had been when she’d sat down. The couch didn't sit back up again so she had to, and the acceleration was at least eight tenths of a G. She hurried and used the head, and came right back.
Gabriel moved closer to the Retribution and hailed them, asking them to cut back acceleration and then hold it constant. The ship assumed the seven tenths of a G they often used, and replied they'd hold steady.
"Coming up within a hundred meters," Gabriel warned. Lee looked out and could actually see the Retribution by bare eyeball. That was unusual. Once they were holding station Gabriel instructed the ship.
"Dilbert, plot a jump sequence for Derfhome, dragging along the mass of a heavy cruiser. Don't press the envelope. Better to make a few extra jumps at better probabilities. We aren't in that great a rush," Gabriel told the machine. "I'll dim the cabin so you can see better," he told Lee.
Lee felt like contradicting him, that they were in a rush, but held back.
"Retribution," Gabriel called on low power com to keep things private. "We will be moving you. Don't alter course or change power. This won't last long."
"Go ahead, Dilbert."
Lee was looking at the Retribution and the stars changed pattern behind her. She had no sooner gasped in astonishment than the stars flickered again, and again. She should have been counting. It must have been a dozen or fourteen times they changed with no star straight ahead after each transition as she was used to, and then they stopped changing, and a star hung there, not only ahead but quite close.
"And... Derfhome," Gabriel said, pleased with himself.
"Holy shit... "
"The memory fades, but it is quite impressive the first time, isn't it? Excuse me a moment. Retribution, that's Derfhome off your bow. I see we have system scan so I assume you do too. You have about fifteen minutes before your wave front announces your arrival to set a course and compose your hellos. I wish you much luck resolving your issues."
"Are you coming in with us?" Gordon asked.
"I was hoping to take Lady Lee for a late night snack, and join you later, but I hadn't asked her yet. With her new metabolism you're going to have to get used to feeding her more often," he warned. "Just a moment while I ask. Would you like to go somewhere with me for drinks and snacks before rejoining your friends?" Gabriel asked.
"I was sort of wanting to see how they resolved things with the USNA cruiser and the alien big wigs," Lee said.
"Of course. But we'll be back before they can assume Derfhome orbit, and while they are still talking. I'm sure they will log the initial conversation for your amusement."
"Where do you want to go?" Lee asked.
"Anywhere in the human sphere," Gabriel said shrugging. "It's hard to find good service in the Beyond, you know."
"Give me a mic and channel to Gordon," Lee said.
"Gordon, I'll catch up with you in a couple hours, maybe at Derfhome station. Love ya, bye."
"I assume you know all the good places," Lee said. "Surprise me."
– The End –
And now check out Fenris Unchained, also from Henchman Press:
The Wolf is Loose.
Ten years ago, after her parents were killed in a terrorist attack, Melanie Armstrong walked away from a military officer’s career to raise her orphaned brother.
Since then she's been captaining a tramp freighter – shuffling from world to world, scraping to barely get by, but content that she's made the right decision.
But when her ship crashes, authorities make her an offer: take a fifteen-year sentence on a prison world where the average lifespan is a third of that.
Or take part in a mission to stop an ancient, and until-now forgotten, robotic warship, the Fenris, from completing its hundred-year-old task of destroying a planet, killing millions.
CHAPTER I
Time: 0815 Local, 01 June 291 G.D.
Location: Dakota, Dakota System
A yellow light began to flash on the control board.
That was nothing new, not aboard the Kip Thorne. Warning lights lit up half the panel. It was a Christmas display of yellow caution lights, flashing priority lights, and red danger lights that gave the board an aspect of impending doom.
The pilot didn’t look over to the panel to see what was wrong. One of the red lights indicated a malfunction in the auto-pilot system. That meant that the tall, blond woman had to bring the Kip Thorne down by hand.
Not a difficult a task for an experienced pilot. She enjoyed flying, enjoyed it more than anything else, really. She didn't enjoy thirty six hours of flight time spent awake on stimulants while flying a ship that needed far too many repairs.
She shot a glance at the panel, and then flipped on the intercom. “Rawn, take a look at the starboard thruster.” She shook her head. Tried to push thoughts through a mind that seemed turned to mud.
The intercom crackled and hissed, his voice difficult to make out. “Uh, Mel, we might have a problem.”
The light ceased flashing. She sighed in relief, “No, it cleared up here, good job whatever you did.”
The ship bucked. The alarm light flashed red. A moment later, so did six or seven other warning lights. “What the hell did you just do, Rawn?!”
Mel fought the control yoke, eyes wide, as she swore to herself:
“Rawn, was that the starboard pod going out?”
The ship yawed over as she overcompensated and she fought it back under control.
“Rawn, you’d better get that thruster back online.”
She heard a squeal from the hatch as it opened. It had always reminded her of a ground vehicle's brakes screeching just before an accident.
She tried not to apply that metaphor as some sort of warning to her current flight. Her brother spoke from behind her: "I’m going to pack the escape pod. Anything you want me to throw in?” he asked.
“What?” Mel craned her neck to look at him.
The ship spun sharply and threw her against her straps and tossed her brother into the wall hard. She bit off a curse and struggled with the controls for a moment. It seemed to take an eternity to fight the ship back under control.
The radio crackled, “Freighter Kip Thorne, this is Dakota Landing Control, you broke out of your landing queue, return immediately, over.”
“We’re going to lose the other thruster. The port thruster is in worse shape. What do you want me to put in the pod?” her brother asked.
His calm voice made her clench her teeth.
“We’re not abandoning ship,” she told him sharply. “I can land this thing.” It would be hard, though, with just one thruster. They couldn't engage their warp drive in atmosphere, not without disengaging safeties that were there to prevent that. Even if we had time, she thought, it would be a stupid thing to do. The warp drive field would tear the atmosphere around them and if they hit anything in warp, the difference in relative velocity would not only kill them but quite possibly wipe out Dakota's biosphere.
She forced her mind to focus. When she spoke, her voice had the calm tone that she emulated from her father: “Dakota Landing Control this is Freighter Kip Thorne, we just lost our starboard thruster and are requesting immediate assistance, over.”
“Freighter Kip Thorne, is this some kind of joke?” The speaker’s nasal, officious tone suggested she wasn't amused.
Rawn snorted. “I know the safe combo, I’ll grab our cash and some keepsakes. I’ll clear out your desk too.” He pushed his way back off the bridge.
“Get back here—” Mel clamped her jaws shut. One thing at a time. “Negative Dakota Landing, this is no joke, our starboard thruster— ”
Her voice broke off as another yellow light began to flash, the warning light for load limit on the other thruster. “Our starboard thruster is out and we’re about to lose our port thruster, requesting assistance, over.”
“Negative, Kip Thorne, you’ll have to break off your descent and return to orbit,” the nasal voice answered. “A repair craft can be sent to you there.”
“Dakota Landing, this is an emergency. We lose our port thruster, there won’t be anything keeping us up here.” Mel snapped. “We don’t have enough thrust to get back into orbit, and you don’t have time to—”
“Kip Thorne, break off your descent or you will be intercepted by our customs cutter. Over.”
“Dakota, I hope they got a tractor,” answered. “Because—” The ship shuddered and the other thruster went dead. “We just lost our other thruster. Kip Thorne, out.”
She turned off the radio and sat in the chair for a long moment as the small freighter bounced. Soon it would begin to tumble, she knew, without the guidance from the thrusters.
“Six years, six years I kept her goin’. Dad, I did my best.”
She wiped her eyes; now was not the time to cry.
The ship fell now, without anything to slow its descent besides atmospheric friction. Superheated air flashed across the hull and cast glowing flames across the cockpit glass.
Mel sighed. She kissed her fingertips and touched the control yoke one last time, then unbuckled and left the bridge. She didn’t look back.
Time: 1720 Local, 1 June 291 G.D.
Location: Dakota City Detention Center, Dakota System
Marcus looked over at his companions.
“Don’t be so gloomy. They’re not nearly so angry with us as they are with whoever crashed that freighter.” He ran a hand through his brown hair and gave them a shaky smile.
Brian didn’t lift his head out of his hands. “You were carrying ten kilos of rex. Do you know how illegal that is? We’ll be lucky if they only confiscate our ship and give us a few years in jail.”
Strak spoke from where he sat, cross-legged on the floor. “That’s overly optimistic really; rex dealers don’t get good treatment in jail. Most of the inmates know someone who’s OD’d on it.”
Marcus winced, looked away.
“Look, I’m sure I can get us out of this.”
Rex was a performance drug, and it was the most illegal and the most common illegal drug in known space. Rex’s addiction was both chemical and psychological because it gave a person something that was priceless.
A rex junkie didn’t act like any other druggie, because rex didn’t distort your senses or give you a euphoric feeling. People on rex were confident, their thoughts were clear, they were able to make quick, well thought-out decisions. The most shy, nervous youth could become the self-assured center of activity with a single dose of rex.
Tertius was the third level, the cheapest. It only affected brain activity. Secundus and Primus Rex chemically modified the body.
Primus was the highest level, the most addictive. Secundus heightened the senses and stimulated the central nervous system, giving a person greater control over their body. Primus did all that and also lent strength, streamlined metabolism, and heightened reaction speeds.
Of course, if Rex’s benefits were heaven, its side effects were hell.
They sat in silence for a while and Marcus studied his two companions. He’d signed on as crew aboard their ship, the Varqua, six months ago. A crew of five, including these two. The Varqua was a tramp freighter, a Stout-class, one of thousands that plied the edges of Guard Space, serving the smaller colonies.
Brian Liu was the owner of the ship. Apparently he had a good head for business or good contacts. The Varqua had been a profitable ship, unlike most that plied their runs. A short, stocky man, clearly of Asiatic origins, Brian was a decent enough boss, if overly picky about the law most of the time. Marcus couldn’t fault him that, though the man’s arrogance grated at times.
Strak was something of an enigma. Calm and collected where Brian was loud and arrogant, overweight and slow where Brian was muscular and bird-quick. He had held a sort of general maintenance job aboard the Varqua. In reality, he served as an adviser for Brian, and a watchdog over the rest of the crew. Getting anything past the old man was more than difficult, it was damn near impossible. He seemed remarkably loyal to Brian, and Marcus got the feeling that they shared some kind of history.
Marcus hadn’t ever felt unwelcome... just the outsider.
“Everything would have been fine except for those damned pirates,” he muttered.
The door at the end of the cell block clanged and then groaned open. Two prisoners led the way, followed by two guards. The first prisoner was in his late teens and he wore a ragged set of coveralls. An unruly mop of blond hair hung above a face covered in dirt and oil.
The other prisoner was a tall, statuesque blonde, with dark brown eyes. She wore an equally ragged cut of clothing. As they came past, Marcus blinked in surprise. “Mel?” He asked as he moved close to the bars.
She turned, hearing his voice. Her eyes went wide in recognition.
Then her fist snapped out, slipping between the bars to strike him full in the face.
Marcus dropped like a stone. She kicked through the bars, hitting what she could, punctuating each word with a kick, “You owe me ten thousand dollars, you free-booting piece of—”
One of the guards cuffed her to the ground and then drew her to her feet and pushed her into the cell opposite the other three prisoners.
Both the guards and the other prisoners laughed.
Marcus sat up, touching his nose and wincing, “You bwoke my mose!”
Mel shook her head, jaw clenched in rage, “Too bad I didn’t break your neck.”
Strak laughed, “Sounds like she knows you fairly well, Marcus.”
Marcus sat on his bunk, holding his nose with one hand. “Well, mow that ‘ou’ve gob ib’ ou’ of yo’, you want to talk?” he asked in a calm tone. He felt hot blood run down his face and the salty copper of it in the back of his throat. Well, he’d tasted worse things before.
Mel shook her hand, flexing it a bit. “Sure. You still owe me ten thousand dollars. You’re still a piece of shit.” She took a seat on one of the bunks in her cell. “So what more do we have to talk about?”
Marcus stared at her for a long moment. There was something more here besides his theft. Granted, Mel had a tendency to overreact at times. “Five years ain’t been enough to cool your anger?” He asked. She didn’t answer.
Brian looked up, “This bastard screwed you lot over as well?”
The boy spoke, his voice was calm, but his eyes were cold. “Marcus Keller is not a man to be trusted.”
“A little late to tell us that.” Brian’s voice filled with bitterness. “He had ten kilos of rex stashed in his room.”
“Wow, I knew you were a bastard,” Mel said, “but dealing rex? That’s sick, that’s really sick.” She smiled sweetly. “I hate to think what they’ll do to you in a prison.”
Marcus held his nose, feeling the blood run down his face. He didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything he could say. He looked away from her angry dark eyes and met those of her brother Rawn. She has every reason to hate me, Marcus thought grimly, and her brother, too.
* * *
“Hey, boss, got a couple possible recruits.”
Agent Mueller looked up from his paperwork, “Not interested. I wouldn’t even want to pick up the other two to get our man if it weren’t for the package deal.”
“One of them is a pilot. Her brother is certified engine crew.”
“Oh?” Mueller raised an eyebrow, “that could be useful, but this is a recruitment mission—”
“Both of them lost their parents to a GFN terrorist attack.”
The Agent picked up the file, he browsed both folders quickly. He began to smile slightly, especially as he read the note from the investigating officer. “Interesting... All right, you’ve convinced me. Tell the magistrate I want them.”
* * *
“The accused will step forward.”
Mel stepped forward into the courtroom. The only occupants were a pair of guards and a man in Guard Fleet uniform. “Sir, I want to—”
“You will be silent or you will be held in contempt of this tribunal,” the uniformed man cut her off. “The tribunal is now in session.”
There was a faint hum as recording equipment turned on.
“Certified Pilot and Ship’s Owner Melanie Armstrong of the Century System is charged with Criminal Negligence, Reckless Endangerment, and Willful Disobedience of Traffic Control Commands.” The tribunal officer sounded bored. “How do you plead?”
“Uh, sir, that is—”
“Accused pleads guilty to all charges. Evidence is amended to tribunal recordings.”
“Hey, I didn’t say—”
“The tribunal finds the accused guilty of above crimes and also for contempt of the tribunal. Sentence for conviction is fifteen years hard labor. Convicted is remanded to Guard Custody for duration of the sentence.”
The officer flipped a switch. The hum cut off.
“Hey, wait, you can’t do this!” Mel shouted. “That wasn’t even a trial! I demand to see a lawyer—”
One of the guards grabbed her by her collar and dragged her out.
Time: 1100 Zulu, 11 June 291 G.D.
Location: Female Block, Justicar Prisoner Transport
The cold, dark ship’s sole purpose and design came from the need to transport the maximum number of prisoners with minimal difficulties. Cells were just that, cells of solid steel that ran down the length of the ship, each door secured by a digital lock whose combination changed every time the guards opened it.
They separated Mel from her brother and put her in the female block. There were only three other women in the block. Apparently the Guard didn’t get many prisoners on this run.
She didn’t talk to them. They didn’t talk to her. The silence was almost companionable. Her food arrived via a tray slid under her door, twice a day, delivered by a female guard who never spoke.
On the third day, her door opened.
There were two female guards. One of them gestured. “Come on out.”
They took her out of the cells, past the security checkpoint and into a clean, sterile room. “Shower’s there,” one gestured to a door.
“Clothing’s there.” She gestured to a neatly folded pile of clothing on a table.
“When you’re clean and dressed go through that door.” She pointed at a second door.
Then they left.
It was the first moment of privacy Mel had had in days. She wanted to cry. Instead, she went to the shower. It was an experience she wanted to savor, but she also didn’t want to be dragged out of it. She suspected that or worse would happen if she lingered too long.
She hurried and then got dressed quickly. It was normal, comfortable civilian clothing; it even fit her fairly well, though it was bland and unremarkable. It felt alien after the prison smock she’d worn for what seemed forever. A part of her mind whispered that it had only been a week. She didn’t want to imagine the longer period of imprisonment ahead of her.
The second door opened into another sterile room.
A long mirror covered one wall. A man sat behind a table with a slim folder on it.
“Have a seat,” he said without rising.
Mel sat. She knew this was some kind of game, knew she was being manipulated. It should have made her angry, but somehow it only made her feel more helpless. Over his shoulder she saw her reflection. Her face looked pale, blonde hair lank, eyes shadowed.
The man opened up his folder. “Melanie Armstrong, born 266 to Anne Marie and Hans Armstrong on the planet Century, of the same system.”
His voice was empty and cold, “Your aunt and uncle were archeologists on Century, they and their youngest child were killed in a pirate attack on Century, leaving only your cousin Jiden Armstrong alive. Your grandmother, Admiral Victoria Armstrong of Century's Planetary Militia is something of a local war hero. You got your pilot’s license at fifteen, qualified for entry into the Harlequin Sector Fleet Academy at seventeen, rather than joining Century's Military Academy. You were in the top five percent of your class for three years. Then your parents died in a Guard Free Now terrorist attack two months before graduation. You resigned and took guardianship of your younger brother. In the six years since, you managed the Kip Thorne as captain and owner until a week ago when it broke up above Dakota.”
“I suppose you even know my calculus test grades from my plebe year,” Mel joked weakly, “So what is this about?”
The man smiled thinly, “You got excellent marks, your teacher put in a recommendation that you be sent to further schooling in higher level mathematics.” The man stood “Do you know what your sentence is?”
“Penal colony I’d guess.” Mel answered.
“Fifteen years on Thornhell.” He stood up and looked down at her. He wasn't tall, probably ten centimeters or more shorter than Mel, but he seemed to loom over her.
Mel gulped, “I heard there was a war on there.” What she'd heard of the planet left her feeling faintly sick.
The man shook his head, “Not anymore. Not that it matters much. You’d be working in the mines. Fifteen years is ten years longer than the survival rate on that planet.”
“It’s not fair!” Mel snapped. “I did the best I could, I didn’t even get a fair—”
His voice cut across hers like a knife, “No, it’s not fair. The universe isn’t fair.” He smiled a cold, reptilian smile. “Think on this though. How fair would it be if your freighter had landed on someone, rather than smashing into some wilderness on a backwater planet?”
He smiled wider as she shook her head stubbornly. “No, it didn’t. But your next stop was Salvation. Think for a moment what would have happened if your thrusters went out there. Something similar happened on Expo just last year. Over fifteen hundred dead when one battered freighter crashed into a residential block in the middle of the night. No warning; definitely not fair to them, eh?”
Mel looked down at her hands. “If we’d made that run, we could have paid for the repairs we needed.”
“No, if you’d made the run, you would have needed to make several more to pay for the repairs you needed. We reviewed your logs and analyzed your cargo versus your maintenance bill. Even with some kind of loan, you weren't going to pay for it all.” The man answered.
Mel looked up, anger in her face. “What’s this about? I’m going to die on some crappy, worthless world, I failed my brother and I failed myself. Is that what you want to hear?”
She gestured at the mirrored wall, “Is that what they want to see?”
The cold man smiled. “What do you know about the Second Sweep?”
Mel’s jaw dropped at the complete change in subject. She shook her head while she tried to get her bearing. Finally, she answered, “Started a hundred years ago. Bigger war than the War of Persecution. We almost lost.”
“We very nearly were exterminated.” The cold man spoke softly. His eyes seemed distant and there was a tone of reverence to his voice. “The Culmor were at the front gate. Fifty million soldiers and sailors died. Over three billion civilians wiped out. The entire Sepaso Sector razed; half of Harlequin sector exterminated.”
He caught Mel’s gaze with his own cold and calculating eyes.
“That certainly wasn’t fair to them. That didn’t stop it from happening. You wrote a paper about the automatons.” He paused. “Tell me about them.”
Mel stared at him for a long while, “Uh, the Preserve and Triad ran low on trained personnel. They made fully automated vessels for the fighting.” She frowned.
“Most had small crews to run them, some were controlled entirely by computers: Artificial Intelligence, supposedly limited by programming to think only within tactical orientations. They weren’t supposed to think outside of the mission parameters.”
The unknown man picked up a copy of her paper, she could follow along as he read the instructor's comments scrawled on the top, “A decent paper, excellent research but you didn't touch very much on the reasons the ships were discontinued.”
Mel shrugged. It seemed a strange topic of conversation, but… “They behaved erratically in combat. Mission parameters were vague in many cases. They were amazingly effective as rear-area raiders, or serving as suicide attackers against Culmor bases. While in formation with human ships, though, they sometimes targeted friend and foe, went berserk. Some took damage and went haywire.”
She was slightly surprised at all she remembered after several years. Then again, it had been an interesting topic in history. The subject had been all the more intriguing for the fact that most people didn’t like to talk about it.
“And then the war turned, we didn’t need them any more. So the ships were discontinued, most of them were scrapped.”
Mel nodded impatiently, “Right, they weren’t designed to carry crews, the weapons, plants and engines had little shielding, the ships didn’t have life support. It was easier and cheaper to scrap them than to refit them for human use.”
“Don’t worry, this all has a purpose.” The cold man smiled, took his seat. “That history is something of a fascination of mine; also, it’s part of my job.”
“Which would be?” Mel asked.
The man removed a wallet from within his suit, “Guard Intelligence.”
Mel pushed back from the table, as if he’d transformed into a venomous snake.
He grinned broadly, “No need to fear, I’m not hunting you or even here to harm you. As bad as it may sound, I’m actually here to help you.”
Despite his words, he clearly enjoyed the effect he'd had on her, Mel saw. The light to his eyes and the smirk on his face marked him as someone who cultivated the persona.
Mel knew that she should stay quiet and shouldn't provoke him. Even so, she couldn't help but snort in derision, “Right. As in ‘I’m from the government, I’m here to help you.’”
The spook's smirk vanished and his eyes narrowed in irritation. “Some agents believe that coercion is sufficient to gain service from those they need. I do not believe so. Believe me, I will lie to you, I will use you, but I understand that I must give you some incentive if I want you to assist me.”
He stared at her in silence for a long moment, almost as if to suggest that he were reconsidering whether he were going to offer Mel anything at all.
Good job, Mel thought to herself, piss off the guy who holds your life in his hands.
Even so, she couldn't help a spurt of irritation with the man. He wanted her to feel this way, wanted her to second-guess herself. He was building towards something and he wanted her off balance and uncertain. She fell back on the fire that had gotten her through the Academy and she felt her back straighten, even as she clenched her teeth on the spike of anger at this continued manipulation.
“What do you know about the Wolf-class battlecruisers?” He demanded.
Back to the games, Mel thought with a sigh. She took a moment to think. Part of the Academy had dealt with ship identification, with a basic overview of every Human military ship made in the past three hundred years.
“The class was designed for heavy combat. Fully automated, some self-repair capabilities. Only ten or twelve of them even begun in construction, I don’t think any of them ever saw combat.”
It was the sum of all her knowledge. She’d been far more fascinated by the smaller ships while at the Academy. I wanted to be a fighter pilot, she remembered. That part of her seemed very distant, in many ways as dead as her parents.
“Three Wolves commissioned, two of them went on missions, the third went to the breakers within a month of completion,” the agent stated flatly, all emotion gone from his voice.
“The Romulus went against a Culmor dreadnought squadron at Baker in order to delay its attack on Harlequin Station. That mission cut the war short by an appreciable margin. It destroyed three of the squadron’s four dreadnoughts, and the fourth was destroyed in a follow-up run.”
Mel blinked. A battlecruiser destroyed three dreadnoughts?
“The other ship, the Fenris, departed on a separate mission three weeks later, in March of 193. It first attacked a troop transport convoy, sighted at Bell, then a captured deep-space station serving the enemy as a raider base. Its final target was to be the center of the Culmor advance in this sector, Vagyr.”
Mel frowned, “Wasn’t Vagyr captured intact nearly a year later?”
“It was, by ‘auxiliaries’ that were, and are, little more than pirates,” the agent replied.
“The Fenris never arrived at Vagyr. It intercepted and destroyed the convoy, scouts confirmed the destruction the raider base, and that was it. Guard Fleet presumed it destroyed in the fight at the raider station. Significant debris clouds suggested a significantly larger raider force at the station than intelligence had suggested.” He shrugged. “Logic, therefore, suggested the autonomous ship was destroyed in combat.”
“I assume we’re having this conversation because it wasn’t?” Mel snapped, her patience at a ragged end. The history lesson grated, particularly given the fact that her future seemed tied to this random bit of history.
“Indeed.” The agent smiled. “In fact, you are quite right.”
“Two weeks ago, a merchant ship suffered a minor warp drive failure. Their FTL warp drive kicked off in what was supposed to be an empty, barren system. While undergoing their repairs, they spotted activity in the inner system. They also detected military transmissions in the system. Like any merchant with something to hide, they quietly got their ship repaired and left. Someone aboard talked and one of my colleagues collected their sensor data as a precaution.”
“And it was this missing ship?” Mel asked.
“That took confirmation by a cruiser squadron we sent to investigate. They were extremely fortunate: the Fenris queried them for identification and accepted their modern codes.”
“So the ship was damaged and hid in some backwater system. What’s the problem?” Mel asked. Some part of her whispered that she would be better off trying a more helpful tone... but everything about this Guard Intelligence agent made her back go up.
The agent closed his eyes, sighed slightly. “I’ve had to tell this story twenty-seven times. Do let me finish at my own pace.” He opened his eyes and peered at her somewhat inquisitively, “I don’t think you want to make me angry.”
His gaze reminded her of a snake that had just eaten, regarding a mouse it might make room for. Mel shivered.
“Guard Fleet dispatched a courier ship with the proper clearance codes and query data to order the ship to power down. Upon receiving the query codes, the vessel replied that repairs were 98% completed, and that the mission would continue. Upon receiving the codes to power down, the ship did something it shouldn’t have. It ignored the codes and replied that the mission would be completed. Then it engaged it's strategic warp drive.”
“And you have no idea where it went.” Mel sat back.
“On the contrary. We know exactly where it is going.”
Time: 1500 Zulu, 11 June 291 G.D.
Location: Solitary Confinement, Justicar Prisoner Transport
Agent Mueller stepped up near the bars and dropped a chair outside. He settled into it backwards, arms crossed over the back, “Leon, you look like shit.”
The prisoner didn’t look up from where he sat, huddled in the shadows at the rear of the cell.
“Trying to ignore me? You got pretty good at ignoring many things, Leon, but you never could ignore me.” Mueller entwined his fingers and rested his chin on them.
“What do you want?” The voice was only a whisper.
“My friend, my mentor, what do you think I want? I want you, the famous agent, I want you working for us again.” Mueller let the sincerity drip through his voice. It was easy enough, after all, because it was the truth. They needed him, and men like him, especially now.
“That will never happen,” Leon hissed back.
“Come now, never is an awful long time.” Mueller replied. “I know you’ve still got family back on New Paris. For that matter, I’m sure I can find someone a little closer to… focus your mind.”
He hated to use threats, not because they weren't effective but because it seemed so dirty. Why do people continue to make me threaten them, he thought, just to do what needs to be done?
“What do you want?” The whisper was faint, difficult to hear. It was enough.
“I need you on this one. It’s bad, I won’t lie. Has the potential to be extremely bad. Entire planet annihilated, not a good thing to have happen on my watch, you understand.” Mueller shrugged, as if to say it would be an unavoidable tragedy.
“I get the point, what do you want me to do?”
“Don’t cause problems. I’ve talked your friends into helping us. Go along with it. They’ll come through this fine; you’ll come through this fine. Maybe I can even get you some treatment—“
“No. I have my own ways for dealing with my demons.”
The agent shrugged, “Have it your way. It’s a shame you left. Yours are hard boots to fill.”
“What, the killing, destroying and murdering boots, or the scheming, plotting, manipulating boots?” The prisoner scoffed. “I’m sure you’re doing just fine.”
“Thanks, Leon, you always knew just how to cheer a fellow up,” Agent Mueller smiled. “I must say though... I did learn from the best.”
“Get out of my sight bastard, before I kill you,” the voice of his former mentor showed some echo of real anger. That surprised him a bit, he thought it would take more than that to break through the man's shell of self-pity.
“Oh, you wouldn’t want that to happen, Leon. If I die, well, let’s just say you wouldn’t want certain other deaths on your already heavy shoulders.” Despite his languid words, the man rose quickly and left. He'd already set the hook, no need to further bait the tiger.
CHAPTER II
Time: 0800 Zulu, 12 June 291 G.D.
Location: SS John Kelly, Expo System
Mel looked the unfamiliar cockpit over with a critical eye. She’d seen a couple of these ships before, though never from the inside. The Lotus Blossom class were somewhat infamous. A far fancier name than was entirely necessary, she thought. The ungainly and actually rather ugly ship had little in the looks department to compare to most small freighters. It wasn’t really a freighter at all, more of a military light cargo transport.
Marcus stepped in the door behind her, “Should have known I’d find you here, already. Studying a bit early aren’t you? We still got six hours before departure.”
She didn’t answer him at first. It took her a few seconds to squash her anger so that she didn’t erupt from her chair to attack him. He would expect that, she knew from the overly relaxed tone in his voice. He wanted to provoke her. “You’re a manipulative son of a bitch, you know that?”
“Mel, I’m hurt... really.” His innocent tone didn't fool her. Marcus took a seat in the copilot seat behind her.
“Don’t you have something else to do?” Mel asked.
“Why? I’m only familiarizing myself with the systems, just like you,” Marcus said. She didn’t have to look over her shoulder to see the insolent smile on his face.
She sat there for a long while, concentration broken by anger. She hated this man, hated him with every ounce of her body. “Why’d you do it?” She asked finally.
He didn’t answer for a moment. She expected another off-handed joke. Instead, when he finally spoke, his voice was gruff. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“You’re right. I probably couldn’t understand how a betrayer thinks.” She answered. “I don’t think I’d want to anyway.”
“Things aren’t always what they appear, Mel.” His voice was sad, somehow. “Keep that in mind when you work with Agent Mueller. Sometimes things aren’t what they appear to be.”
“And sometimes things are exactly what they look like,” Mel snapped back instantly. She didn’t want to think he’d had any motivation besides self-interest. Those thoughts robbed her of her anger, left her only with pain.
His seat creaked as he leaned forward to speak softly in her ear. “Don’t trust anyone on this ship.”
With that he rose and left.
Time: 1400 Zulu, 12 June 291 G.D.
Location: SS John Kelly, Expo System
Mel completed the undocking procedure and drew away from the prison ship. She looked out the canopy distastefully, gazing with distaste at the decrepit vessel. “LMV John Kelly, clear of your drive, Justicar.” She couldn’t find it in her to wish them a good journey.
She heard a dark chuckle from behind her. “I’d love to be able to take all the prisoners off and blast that bastard out of the sky.”
“I’m sure you would, Marcus, but you won’t be doing that.” Agent Mueller said from behind them both. Marcus muttered something about who he wished was aboard the prison ship when he did it.
Mel smiled in spite of herself.
Her smile broadened as she looked across the indicator panels and saw only two yellow lights. She took her time as she swung the bow around and inserted the coordinates for the warp engines. There was joy in a ship that responded.. There was happiness to be found at the yoke of any vessel, even if it wasn’t home. I have no home now, she thought, her joy darkened with sorrow. She had lost the last thing she had left of her parents.
“Warp coordinates uploaded. Strategic drive active in thirty seconds,” Marcus acknowledged.
Being reminded of his presence killed the smile. It didn’t hurt nearly as much this time, but it certainly didn’t feel good.
She watched the countdown timer. Most such maneuvers were routine; the good thing about warp drives was that they worked or they didn’t. The drive rings that circled the ship did their job unless they suffered actual physical damage, at which time the ship reverted immediately to normal space. Though they can function at lower levels of capability, she thought.
Watching a ship go into warp was a sign of how well a ship worked. A ship in top shape engaged smoothly, because its drive was properly aligned. Most civilian ships were slightly misaligned, not enough to cause damage, but enough to cause slight nausea to those unfamiliar to the experience. Local space warp drives, often called 'tactical' warp drives utilized only one ring so noticing any motion was difficult. The faster than light warp drive, often called strategic drive by the military, utilized both drive rings on a ship and so any issues with alignment were more easily detected.
As she’d expected, the drive was very smooth. “Minimal misalignment.”
“She goes down like a drunken—”
“If you finish that statement, you’re going to wish we had a doctor aboard.” Mel stated flatly. She’d heard the phrase before; the last person she wanted to hear it from now was him. She opened the intercom to the engine room. “Rawn, how are things down there?”
“No problems, sis.” She could almost hear his shrug. “Strak’s monitoring the power plant, and that Giran guy is keeping an eye on the control panel.”
“Thanks, Rawn.”
She heard the door slide closed, and flipped on one of the internal cameras to watch the Guard Intelligence agent walk down the corridor, toward the hangar bay.
She felt Marcus looking over her shoulder. “Getting a little suspicious of our good friend and boss?”
“I got less reason to trust you. Shut your trap.” She spoke without force, though. Why the Guard needed to rely on seven convicts to do this job she didn’t know. But she didn’t trust it one bit.
She flipped on the receiver for the hangar bay intercom. Two of the other crew members were there, Brian, the third and last member from the Varqua, and Stasia, who seemed to be a hacker of some sort. The hacker seemed to have a large number of boxes to sort through and as Mel watched, the woman opened up a box, drew out some computer components and then checked them off an inventory.
“Everything good down there?” Agent Mueller was asking.
“Da, seems good.” Stasia was a short, skinny woman with mousy brown hair. Her face had a pinched look and she seemed to squint at everything nearsightedly. Mel had spoken to her briefly; she’d seemed very distant, as if her mind was elsewhere.
As Stasia returned to sorting through her boxes, Brian gestured toward three black crates. Each was long and narrow, roughly the size and shape of a coffin, banded with metal strips. The security camera didn’t have a good angle, but Mel zoomed in and was able to read bright orange numbers written on the top of one of them.
“Three crates arrived for you just before departure.” Brian spoke. There was an unspoken consensus by the crew that no one would refer to the agent as ‘sir’. He hadn’t earned any kind of respect, and he gave them that minor victory. That they followed his orders seemed good enough for him.
“Only three?” the agent asked.
Brian held out the inventory list, but Mueller waved it away. “Have them put outside my cabin.”
“That crate is carrying MP-11s,” Marcus said from behind her. He pointed at the first crate. As the agent turned, the other two crates were clearly visible. “That one is a case for a MG-144, and that is a—” He cut himself off, looking at her.
Mel stared at him for a long moment, the obvious question unasked. Marcus was a smuggler, a thief, and a general scumbag. There was no reason for him to instantly recognize the coded label on a military weapon crate.
Movement on the screen caught her attention and she saw that the Guard Intelligence agent was headed toward the bridge. She cut the camera feed and brought up data on the warp drive just as the door opened.
“I trust everything is well in hand?” He asked.
Mel didn’t trust herself to face him without revealing too much. Marcus saved her by unbuckling. “Everything’s good here. We can probably go to autopilot for the rest of the trip. Damned good computers – equipment, too – for a freighter. Where’d Guard Intel come up with it?”
“There will be a briefing in five minutes in the lounge. I trust you’ll both be there.”
The agent turned and left without saying anything.
“Fishing for information?” Mel asked.
“Trying to distract him. Agent Mueller is a very perceptive man. I thought it best to give him some false lead as to what we were doing in here during his absence.”
“His name’s Mueller?” Mel asked.
There was a moment of silence. “Yeah, Adam Mueller. I caught his name when he flashed his badge.”
That sounded a little weak to Mel, “Sounds to me like you know something about this GI agent.”
He snorted, “Sure I do. I know he’ll know we’re up to something if we aren’t on time for his little briefing.”
Mel opened her mouth to retort, but too late. He had slipped through the hatch before she could come up with something suitably acidic.
“I hate that bastard,” she growled. Even she wasn't sure which bastard she meant.
* * *
The eight of them met in the lounge for the first time.
Agent Mueller stood next to a holo-projector. Brian and Strak had taken one couch, Mel and Rawn the other. Marcus, Stasia and Giran were seated at the lounge’s lone table.
“As most of you can easily guess after our conversations, we are going after the Fenris.” The agent smiled. “I believe we can dispense with the pleasantries and get straight down to business.”
He had a smirk on his face, as if he expected them all to laugh at his turn of phrase. When none of them responded with so much as a smirk, his face went cold. “First: payment.” The agent ticked off his fingers as he addressed each item. “All of you will be pardoned for your crimes. Easy enough for me to arrange, I assure you.” He shrugged. “Second: each of you receives a bonus for completion. In addition to your freedom, each of you will receive ten thousand dollars.”
The seven ex-prisoners eyed each other. Mel judged from the suspicious looks she received that the others trusted her as little or less than she trusted them.
“Each of you has talents that I may find useful.” The agent spoke on, “Stasia is our computer expert. Hopefully she’s learned her lesson regarding illicit hacking and will not stray. Melanie and Marcus can serve as pilots, Brian and Strak as general crew, Giran and Rawn as engine crew. All of you have other abilities that may come in handy. And all of you were conveniently present when I needed volunteers.” He said the last in a light-hearted tone.
Mel didn't feel any surprise when no-one laughed at his joke.
The holo-projector came to life, where it displayed an external view of a ship. “This is the Fenris. You all know what it is. So do some others who didn’t make the screening process. We are going to shut the vessel down, before it strikes Vagyr. A task force is preparing to meet it in orbit, should we be unable to stop it.”
No one looked at him; they all had good ideas what the price of failure would be: a digital pardon was very easy to ‘misplace.’ For that matter, Mel thought darkly, he could easily have us all killed or marked as escaped prisoners.
“What should happen is that we catch up to it at one of its navigational stops, and we shut it down via external command. If that proves ineffective, we have to board it. That will not prove to be an easy task.” The projector changed, flashing through a deck-by-deck overview. “The entire ship is covered by a security system, which allows the AI to send in security robots, close out sections of the ship, and do all sorts of nasty things.”
“So you’re giving us all this, just for playing taxi?” Rawn asked.
There was a long, empty silence. The GI agent was silent, his face impassive.
Strak said, “He’s using us because we’re a cut-out. If this doesn’t work, the Guard won’t take the blame.” The old man stood slowly and shrugged his shoulders, “Probably lots of evidence will point to a salvage ship, us, having activated the ship in the first place.”
Everyone looked from him to the agent, Mueller smiled. “A clever idea, but one that is entirely excessive. The Preserve built the Fenris. The AI system was produced on Triad, ten decades ago. The forces we’re positioning in Vagyr show that the Guard is doing our best to avert tragedy. We don’t need any kind of cover-up.”
“So,” Mel asked, irritated by the agent’s smug attitude, “Why do you need us?”
“Because you are expendable,” he shrugged. “No reason to send highly trained professionals to deal with a semi-berserk battlecruiser, not when a handful of criminals can do the job just as well. Also, you were easy enough to recruit, whereas mercenaries or professional agents capable of the job would take longer to gather.”
“You said this wouldn’t be dangerous.” Stasia said. Muscles in her right cheek twitched nervously as she spoke.
“I also said I’d be paying you ten thousand in Guard dollars and giving you your freedom. If you’re looking to question the terms, by all means, we can discuss any changes right now.” They all rapidly got the impression that changes would include first, removing the payment and second, putting them back in their cells.
He's all by himself, Mel thought. It should feel like an empty threat, but who knows what resources he can call on?
“Excellent. The Fenris needs to drop its drive field in three locations to make navigational checks on the course we believe it is taking. The ship has an older version of our warp drive, meaning our ship has twice its speed. So we have sufficient time to catch it at its second navigation check.”
“What command will we be sending?” Stasia asked.
“I’ve got the authorization codes and copies of its core programming. There wasn’t time to put together a program to do the job before we left. That will be your job, Stasia.”
Agent Mueller pointed at Rawn and Giran: “You two will be checking her code and making sure that it has no flaws. Our trip should take twenty six days, including two navigational stops, one at Expo and the other at Salvation. Our rendezvous is located in the Crossroads system, two light years west of the Bell system. We should arrive between twenty and thirty-six hours ahead of the Fenris. Data on the ship is in the computer. Disabling that ship is our objective, through any means necessary.”
Mel shivered at his words. She wondered if she’d have been safer on Thornhell.
Time: 1900 Zulu, 12 June 291 G.D.
Location: Crossroads System
There were many star systems which could be classed as high value. Harlequin Station was one such, with two life-bearing worlds, three metal rich asteroid belts, and gas giants to provide hydrogen for power generation.
If Harlequin Station was high value, then Crossroads was definitely low value. Its only value was to serve as a way-point for ships on their way to bigger and better places.
A number of small, icy rocks orbited the cold, tiny star... along with one large starship that emerged from warp exactly where the Guard Intelligence Agent had said it would be.
Mel felt a tingling along her spine. Reading about all the firepower that ship had was one thing. Knowing it might be aimed at her was quite another.
“It’s Fenris,” Marcus stated. “Right on time.”
“Unidentified craft, transmit identification codes or be fired upon.”
Everyone started at the voice. It was the voice of a man, gruff and gravelly. It didn’t sound like the soulless machine they’d all expected. The sound was dangerous and slightly sinister, but somehow also carried the overtones of irritation at the interruption and perhaps even a sense of boredom.
Agent Mueller nodded at Mel, “Transmit the codes, prepare the upload.”
Mel did so and then waited for what seemed to be an eternity.
“Identification codes accepted, John Kelly.” Perhaps it was Mel’s fears talking, but the voice of the AI sounded slightly disappointed that it couldn’t open fire. “Transmit your data upload when ready.”
“Do it.” Mueller said. He had a smile of triumph on his face.
“Transmitting.” Mel said.
She watched as the laser transmitter made connection with the receiver on the other ship. As it began downloading the program, she released a sigh of relief.
“Orders have been updated. Receiving programming update.” The voice modulated, changed. There was no boredom in its next transmission, only pure hostility: “Security protocols have been engaged. Primary programming cannot be compromised. This vessel will not be hijacked.”
“Detecting the warp drive powering up.” Marcus yelped. “We’re being hit by targeting sensors.”
Agent Mueller looked around frantically, “Did the upload go through? What happened?”
Mel brought up the communications system on her screen. Her eyes widened as she realized someone else had also accessed the program from the engine room. The other user began to delete the upload as she watched.
She saved the file to a drive on her console, then opened the intercom to the engine console. “Rawn, someone’s trying to delete the program, stop whoever it is!”
“What?” he answered. “What’s going on up there?”
“Just stop them, lock the console.”
She brought up the security camera for the engine room, caught a sight of Rawn yelling something to Giran, and then Agent Mueller stepped in front of her view. “Was the upload complete?” he demanded.
“It wasn’t. I can’t tell how complete it was either, because whoever tried deleting the file wiped the record of the transmission from the computer first.” Marcus said angrily. “It got the opening packet for certain, but I’m not sure beyond that.” He looked up from his console. “The Fenris just went into warp.”
Mel pushed Agent Mueller out of the way of the screen. She felt her stomach sink and her throat seemed to constrict as she forced the words out of her mouth, “We’ve got a bigger problem. Does anyone know where Giran got a gun and why he has it aimed at my brother?”
* * *
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