Wine of the Gods 4: Explorers Page 13

  "Right. Now explain the bridges, and the spots where the rock's been leveled. Nelson, there is something strange going on here." She cast a glance up at the overhead fog. "The spooky light doesn't help a bit."

  "I'll say. I want a satellite. More aerial photographs. Lots of food and camping gear. Good grief. This is just fantastic." Nelson gazed further down the canyon. Were there offsetting transverse faults? Where he could just walk up and look them over?

  "Strangest world I've ever been on. Hands down." She seemed a bit spooked.

  Nelson felt giddy. "I need more people, just for mapping."

  Roxy steered him back to the gyp. "Time to go home and report all of this, I think."

  He nodded with the greatest possible reluctance. "I'll look into a seismic grid, check out the deep structure . . . "

  Levty and Dudit seemed amused at their reaction to the canyon, and shrugged and talked about magic and gods when Roxy asked about the bridges and the long ramp. The kids seemed to think something was funny about how the bridges were built. Roxy muttered something about their gods having no safety measures in their designs as she rode the rechargers down the long ramp at a circumspect speed.

  Levty bagged a deer after they camped, and apparently in deference to Roxy's sensibilities, kept it discreetly concealed until cooking. Nelson very nearly balked over the canned green beans. What do these people know about bacteria?

  It was Roxy's turn to snicker. "They've survived eating canned goods, so they must know about botulism."

  The canned peaches were delicious.

  "Notice that they have domesticated varieties of fruits and vegetables."

  Nelson nodded. "I think most worlds above the hunt-and-gather level, do. Although these looked pretty familiar, to me." He belatedly found some scraps . . . some samples for Rae Galina. He hadn't a clue whether she could extract DNA from canned goods, but it was worth a try.

  Chapter Seven

  29 April 3477

  Earth

  Lon felt like he'd never get adjusted to a local time zone. He been back to Nowhereistan to inspect some equipment and talk to the people who had supplied the gravity meters. Now he was back in Dallas to talk to McCamey about the size of Jefferson's first movement, before assessing the need to move the gate anchor. Only to be told that Twelve-seventeen wasn't any of his business. So he snatched a bit of down time.

  Carol was deep in campaign mode. He wasn't sure she really even focused on him, her gaze inward and concentrated, talking and typing at the same time.

  "Hey Howie." Lon had known the Councilor since high school. "I take it the campaign is in high gear?"

  "Yeah. And this is a relatively tame one, no real threats. Carol said you'd walked into a mine field?"

  "Natives. God help them. I'll have DONA all over my site, in fact they'll probably be all over me before I gate again. It's almost enough to make me forget we've also got a potentially hazardous environment."

  Howie raised his eyebrows.

  "We have evidence of a comet impact a thousand years ago. Everyone is boggled that anyone survived at all. The Native population is small enough that we may be able to simply avoid the hemisphere they're in. But I want to get a telescope through there and make sure another comet isn't going to hit. And if one is, can we just bunk, and leave the natives to deal with it? I may be dropping a hot potato in the World Council's lap real soon."

  "Ouch! What the hell would we do with a whole world's worth of refugees?"

  "Stick them on a habitable mining world, most likely. Assuming we have enough time to move them. And yes, I do know how much gate time costs."

  "That’s not a mine field, that's Ground Zero."

  "It feels like it has that potential."

  "Lon, your problem is that you haven't articulated your goal. Stop floundering. What do you want?"

  "Peaceful, minimal trade. Permission to mine. I want to slowly introduce ideas and machinery, working inside the existing power structure."

  "There. Now that wasn't painful, was it?"

  "And if a comet or asteroid is going to hit and kill them all, I want to move their people and culture, whole and intact."

  "Okay, that one is getting painful, but I'll get you a list of worlds that have reverted to the Government. You can hunt through for one that would suit your natives. How you are going to pay for moving them is anyone's guess."

  Lon sighed. "It would be cheaper to take one of the larger satellite launchers through and try to divert the comet. After all, they swing by every four years. Hmm."

  "Hmm, indeed."

  Lon made a mental note to find out about the costs and logistics of the largest mobile launch facilities. And capabilities. Could he even fit anything useful through a three and a half meter circle?

  ***

  Never put the book away when she saw Question's eyes flicker. "How you feeling?"

  "Pretty good. What did they give me? I breathed some gas and I went right out. Did you see the doctor? What did she say?"

  "That it went just fine, and you need to rest for a couple of days so the embryo and substrate have a good chance to implant." Never looked around cautiously, then produced a small flask. "Just a little sip."

  Question grinned and sat up enough to sip, then eased back down. "Yuck. The green stuff. All the healing and none of the fun."

  "Something like that," Never grinned. "Anyway, I've got some more books. That skinflint trader wants to make sure he gets all our, umm, trade goods and then he expects to get me to bed him. Fat chance of that, but he's going to string me along with 'come by tomorrow I might have found another' until I'm out of money."

  Question snorted. "Don't hurt him too badly."

  "Aww. You never let me have any fun," Never stuffed her book into her backpack. "I'm going to get some sleep. They only let me stay this late because your surgery was so late. So I’ll see you tomorrow after school."

  "G'night, Never." Question was smiling as she snuggled down into the soft bed.

  Never bounced back to her barracks. Please, let it work, let it work. She greeted several other women by name, said hello and good night in their language, which pretty well exhausted her vocabulary, then they all tried to speak Merican and talked about their families, and where they might wind up working.

  Annabelle was single, but hoped to get work on a world called High Cliffs. "M'fambly go der. Zum guyz I like. De guyz wirk ina mine, digging. De famblies kin farm if dey want, get better food. I wanna wirk ina office, wear niz clothes."

  Several other women nodded a bit tentatively. Never wasn't sure if the doubt was about the job or perhaps just incomplete understanding of what Annabelle had said.

  The lights dimmed and she slept the sleep of the busy until the lights turned back on. Shower, breakfast, classes. In the language class, she diverted the teacher with her history book, and got a few words explained. He was delighted to help an eager student.

  In history she listened and absorbed. For this class alone she wished she could stay longer. The math teacher gave her another test, and suggested that she apply for advanced study. She skipped lunch and slipped into the empty history classroom to study the end of the twenty-first and start of the twenty-second centuries, as these people measured them. So many possibilities just tantalizingly out of reach. She jumped forward to the early Gate period, when the Earth was exploring and expanding. And then to the end, to see what their biggest concerns were, right now.

  Just seven years ago, the Earth had met explorers from another world with gate tech. The other world was apparently a fanatical theocracy, the animosity had been instant, the clashes violent. The Empire of the One had retreated from the colony world where they'd clashed, and not returned. But everyone expected to encounter the others again.

  She was chased out of the room before she could read further. Frustrated enough to start screaming and pulling her hair out, she cooked up a storm and then headed for the hospital.

  Question was sitting up and chatting with t
wo of the labor women trained to help in the Huspitale. "Never! The doctors says I look great inside. You should see the weird machines they have."

  Never let her chatter on, taking pleasure in her rosy glow. Question was ten years younger than she was, and had always been so tough and self reliant . . . her growing unhappiness had been painful.

  "They have all sorts of medical stuff, Never. I've grabbed every bit of printed material I can find," she grinned. "If your new boy friend can't find science books, maybe you can get medical books."

  "Huh. Good idea. I'll branch out. But only if you promise to never tell Dydit I flirted."

  "Ooo! You are in so much trouble. Bad Little Witch!"

  The tedious man had found two more books. At a guess, a child's book about Dimensions, and a detailed history of some war that meant nothing to Never. They had so many they numbered the damn things. "Well, I don't suppose you could find anything about medicine, could you? It seemed like a good job. And maybe some other science?" She tried to look wistful and dewy eyed, and batted her eyelashes a bit. She pulled out a rough diamond, a little pebble and offered it. "I noticed a lot of women wear them. Do you deal in them?"

  He looked at it skeptically. "I'd have to sell it in the City. Come back tomorrow night, and we'll see what it was worth."

  She batted her eyelashes, and he didn't notice that she took the books.

  Question was back in the barracks the next day but told to stay in bed and rest. She made it to lunch and dinner, though, and claimed to feel great.

  And she grumbled when Never wouldn't let her come to see the man about the diamond. And books.

  Good old Benny Altman was glad to see her.

  "Honey, you hit the jackpot with that stone. All these years and we still can't synthesize a good blue white diamond. My man wants more. What have you got? I can go thirty creds each for that size, which is about the cost of one book. What do you say?"

  That you are very greedy. Never looked at the books in the stack, and shook her head. "No. I need good books. Big. Hard to read." She set three larger stones on the counter. "You know what those are now, and that the larger they are, the more valuable. We both know that you are cheating me. But I can get these easily, and I want the books. Get me good ones." She held up a diamond the size of a quail's egg. "I can make it worth your while. I'll be back in two days."

  She turned and walked out. Leaving the three diamonds, taking the big one. Maybe she'd get something worth the effort of finding the diamonds, maybe.

  Question was writing when she got back to the barracks.

  "I talked to a bunch of the nurses and orderlies while I was in the hospital. It's just amazing, the relations their worlds have with Earth. Some are pretty friendly. These women here in orange barracks? They're pretty much all from a world with our sort of tech. Apparently they don't have much in the way of minerals, so the lords trade workers for goodies from Earth. Other worlds, like Mani said, if they have something valuable, the Earth gets it, one way or another."

  Never nodded. "I suspect we've got stuff they want—at least Hackathorn seemed excited about something on the way here."

  Annabelle looked over and frowned. "Dat's bad. Dey attack you, take it all. We heard aboot udder worlz."

  "How long has it been, since Earth found your world?" Never asked her.

  "Fifteen yurz. Wirkz gud fer us, we get hungry at home. Diz better. Much better. Dey call us de thousand yur war world, an dat right. De noblez fight, and we ztarve."

  In her cooking class they made and sampled sandwiches from a variety of 'stuff' and even the worst of the cooks had a good time.

  Reba tsked over the premade bread and made hot stuffed rolls.

  "You're good at this, what do you do where you come from?" Never studied the woman. She was as pale skinned as some of the Earthers.

  Reba grinned. "Milk cows and bake bread. Never thought I'd miss the cows, but the appalling excuse for food they have here! Anyway, the price of beef went up so the milk cows got slaughtered and beef heifers bought. I got pointed out the door, and it looked like I could starve, become a whore or try this weird place everyone was talking about. It beats whoring. So far."

  Never nodded. "I guess your world got discovered some time ago?"

  "Yeah. These people came out of nowhere, grabbed the palace and the King and Queen and all . . . they killed all the soldiers that come near, and sank all the ships that tried to come or go from the harbor. I dunno what the rest of the world is like, but we had some real bad times before the strangers, the Earthers, started up the mines their way. Then there was at least food to eat, but it was this kind of stuff, not grain being shipped in from Chessily, like before." She looked around and shrugged. "I guess it's better than a war with the Heronias, like they always worried about. Nothing got looted except the Palace and the mines. Nobody got killed except the soldiers. Well, and there were some fires, during the fighting. An peoples starved, in the cities. The mines weren't very good, so now they hire us out to work on other worlds."

  The next day, the women with the most problems became assistants for the rest and they cooked various meats in various fashions. The slow women actually did pretty well at that.

  One of them smiled a bit at Never's praise. "Real meat. Who hunt?"

  Never shrugged. "I think they bought it. Traded for it."

  That last brought comprehension to the woman's face. "Trade machine, get meat."

  "Yes." Never held out her ID. "These things keep track of promises, so you can trade."

  She looked dubious, but thoughtful.

  They sampled their cooking, and sent the leftovers to the cafeteria. Never followed along to collect Question. Maybe, with a day to stew over it, Benny had located some worthwhile books.

  Chapter Eight

  25 April 3477

  Nowhereistan, Earth

  Lon frowned down at all the messages waiting for him. All the various lab reports were back. And they must be hot, three of them had follow up messages flagged Call me immediately.

  He grabbed breakfast to go and got to his temporary office early. The four days he'd snatched in Dallas had been great. Carol had taken time off from her regular job, and even trimmed hours with the campaign.

  But now he took a careful sip of very hot coffee and got back to work. He opened the mineral lab report first. Roughly the same as the first samples. The call me note was asking if the deposits were extensive. Ha! Like he was about to answer that. His reply was stiff, mentioned the illegality of insider trading and included a copy of the confidentiality agreement, as a reminder.

  The University of Bern's Astronomy department confirmed that the crater was indeed an astrobleme. They'd accessed a soil sample from the government survey and pointed out the shocked quartz, microtectites, and microscopic diamonds. "Obviously reworked, but indicative of a very large volume of affected material." The follow up had details of a mobile two meter telescope and everything else needed for a complete field setup to scan for more asteroids on a collision course, including personnel. With cost estimates.

  The dating service (old joke) informed him that the eight samples sent all had burned plant material that had been datable. Four were one thousand forty years old, give or take a hundred and fifty years. The other four were thirteen thousand seven hundred and twenty, plus or minus three hundred years. So, the two dark, charred layers in each of four cores marked world-wide, catastrophic events.

  "Help them tie down the Early Diaspora." Lon looked up quickly to see if anyone had heard him muttering. The office was still mostly empty. Monday-itis.

  One of the warehouse gofers came in, coffee pot in hand.

  Lon eyed her cynically. Champion gossip. He held out his coffee cup anyway. "What's up, Bec?"

  She rolled her eyes. "That Jefferson person. Good grief. He hates your guts, but he was trying to do everything you did, but better. He just had to have a few more boxes than you did, and a bigger cadre. We all just about died laughing when he realized he
didn't have any gate times scheduled. And with a three week layover, he got the worst drivers from the temp pool."

  "In that terrain? Now that's a bit scary. But don't gossip about him behind his back too much. He's nasty when he figures out who's doing it. He's all about Team Work. Mainly so he'll have someone handy to blame his failures on."

  Bec grinned. "We know. We saw him in action, trying to blame you for not scheduling his gates for him. Then he whined until McCamey gave him your first slot. That didn't fly with most everyone. You're the one who needs to watch his back." She topped off his coffee and headed out.

  "Thanks, Bec."

  "Well, we thought you should know. What we should have known was that you would be on it."

  The genetics testing lab sent a form letter telling him the analysis was nearly complete. The followup was from JimPaulson, head of the lab. "Meet me for lunch. Mimi's 13:00. Important!"

  He wrote a brief report for the Board, saying that follow up lab reports confirmed both the mineral content and the ages of two major bolide impacts. He recommended an astronomical survey to determine if more impacts were a possibility and quoted the expenses the University had given him plus truck rental and gate time. He suggested that sociologists and linguists might be useful additions, floating a figure that ought to cover two of each.

  Then he sat back to stew over all the various explanations until he got a direct call from a government prefix number.

  There was a pleasant female voice on the other end. "Dr. Hackathorn? This is Case Supervisor Marie Mendoza. We would like to speak to you about the natives you've discovered on world Twelve fifty-three. When would be a good time?"

  Lon looked at his clock. "15:00 hours this afternoon?"

  "We'll be there." Click.

  Lon sighed and checked the time. 12:45. He hoped Jim didn't expect him to get half plastered at lunch. With DONA coming he'd better keep his wits about him.

  Mimi's was a nice spot for lunch meetings. Quiet enough that you could talk, screened and spacious with enough background noise that you couldn't be easily overheard. Lon grabbed a nice private booth and ordered a beer. The only one he'd better have today.