Fian lifted me up in the air with the lifeline, and dangled me over the hole. ‘Jarra, I’ll be watching the sensor probe image,’ he said, ‘but that’s not the same as being able to see you myself. If there’s a problem, then just scream “pull”.’
‘I’ll do that,’ I promised. Fian sounded nervous, and I was a bit nervous too as I got lowered into the hole. I’d never deliberately gone underground on a dig site before. Once I was down in the hole and tagging rocks, I was very aware my only escape route was that circular hole above my head. It was out of my reach using a hover belt, but I trusted Fian. Lifeline beams are designed to be completely reliable, and Fian wouldn’t do anything insane like detaching it from my tag point. I concentrated on tagging as many rocks as was sensible.
‘This batch is tagged. Lift me up please,’ I said.
I soared up through the hole to safety. The sensor probe came up next, and Amalie and Krath shifted the first lot of rocks. Then the probe went down again and checked the situation before I joined it to tag more rocks.
We went round that loop about four times. The messiest bit was trying to shift the small scale rubble out of the way. You couldn’t drag net in the usual way, Amalie and Krath had to lift out batches, and that only worked for little stuff. I learnt that I had to individually tag smaller rocks than usual.
‘If there was a whole lot of interesting stuff down there,’ Playdon said, ‘we’d approach this differently and blow out the roof along a whole stretch of subway so we were working on a giant open trench. That’s a large scale operation though, usually involving several teams working together.’
Finally, I was down to the last level of rubble. I was getting used to the strange working conditions, and relaxing a bit now. I examined the rocks closely, and found some of them weren’t rocks at all. ‘There are a few old metal containers here. Most have fallen apart, and whatever was inside is dust or rotted.’
‘I’m getting some chemical signals from the sensor probe,’ said Playdon. ‘It’s low level, degraded by time, and won’t hurt you in an impact suit. We’ll have to decontaminate you before you take that suit off though.’
‘Oh nice,’ I said. ‘I’m a skunk.’
The class gave confused giggles.
‘That’s dig site terminology,’ said Playdon. ‘It means that Jarra’s suit is contaminated, so the rest of you don’t touch her or you need decontaminating too.’
‘I can see two intact metal containers, and I think …’ I peered closely. ‘I can only see through a tiny gap in the rocks, but I think it really is a stasis box.’
The class cheered.
‘We’ll dig out and retrieve the two intact containers and the stasis box,’ said Playdon, ‘but I’m really suspicious of them. We’ll put them on the clearway, and I’m running Stasis Q tests on them right here before we risk transporting them on sleds.’
We lifted another batch of rocks, and I went down the hole again. The containers and the stasis box were clear of rubble now. ‘The containers look intact, and the stasis box is … Well, I’ve never seen one like this. It’s a big long cylinder.’
‘Does the stasis field look stable?’ asked Playdon.
‘Solid black fuzz, no flickering, it looks fine.’ I tagged the metal containers for lifting, and got a tag harness on the stasis box. ‘It’s a bit tricky getting the harness on one this shape, but I think I’ve got it. Lift me out.’
I was lifted back into daylight and across to the clearway. The sensor probe followed, and then came the stasis box in its harness and the two metal containers. Playdon ordered them lowered on to an area of clearway away from the sleds.
After that, Playdon sprayed me with decontaminant, and checked me with sensors. ‘Jarra is no longer a skunk,’ he reported.
‘Yay for that,’ I said.
He started getting out his Stasis Q equipment.
‘Can I help set up?’ I asked hopefully. ‘I’ve helped pack a few times and …’
Playdon sighed. ‘I suppose you can, but don’t think I haven’t guessed what you’re aiming at. I can’t get you Stasis Q qualified. It’s not like getting your pilot’s licence. Stasis Q involves a residential course, and tests.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘I can get some practical experience on dig sites, study the theory, and even do the theory tests. That would give me a lot of credits, but I’d still need the minimum residential course and practical exam to get my licence.’
Playdon laughed. ‘Well, you’ve obviously researched it, and realize what’s involved. It’ll take you at least a year to get to the point where you need the residential course, so we don’t need to worry about that for a while. If you’re serious, then I’ll help you as much as I can, but if I say it isn’t working out then you have to accept that. Stasis Q isn’t something you can just teach, and it’s not entirely to do with intelligence or hard work, there’s some instinct involved.’
‘You need the nose,’ I said.
Playdon laughed again. ‘Yes, you need the Stasis Q nose.’
So I helped Playdon set up the sensor ring. We dealt with one of the metal containers first.
‘This is easier than a real stasis box of course,’ said Playdon. ‘We’re just running intensive sensor scans, and there’s no stasis field blocking our view of the contents. What have we got, Jarra?’
‘We got a skunk,’ I said. ‘Chemicals inside.’
‘I thought it would be, but it was worth checking,’ said Playdon. ‘Probably illegal medications, heavily degraded by time.’
He collected the sensor ring and Amalie used her heavy lift beam to throw the container back down into the subway. We moved on to the second container. Playdon paused before turning on the sensor ring.
‘What’s your guess, Jarra?’
‘Logically, it should be the same as the other one, but …’
‘But?’
‘I feel more hopeful.’
‘So do I,’ said Playdon. ‘Let’s see if we’re both disappointed.’ He turned on the sensor ring. ‘What have we got, Jarra?’
I stared at the displays. ‘It’s not a skunk. Dense metal, stones … It’s jewellery.’
‘I think we can cut this one open.’ Playdon cut round the lid with a fine laser beam, and tipped out the contents into a storage box before throwing the container away. He took the storage box over to show the rest of the class.
‘Ancient jewellery,’ Dalmora admired it in delight.
‘The gold and diamonds must have been worth a fortune before we could make them,’ said Playdon. ‘They still have value as historic artefacts, so there could be a small bounty payment.’
‘How much?’ asked Krath.
Playdon laughed. ‘Not that much. It’s a percentage of the commercial market value. The Dig Site Federation and University Asgard each get a share, and the rest is divided between us. There’s a whole formula for calculating each team member’s share.’
‘I was on heavy lift,’ said Krath, ‘so I get more than if I was just watching.’
‘Yes, you do,’ said Playdon. ‘Incidentally, the Betans aren’t on site with us, but I’d prefer that the whole class get their base share. It’s rather unfair if someone misses out through illness or injury, and the Betans were excused this trip on compassionate grounds. Any objections to that?’
‘Well, they wanted to go off and see the apelette,’ said Krath, ‘but why not.’
‘Krath!’ Playdon’s voice was suddenly icy.
‘Sorry,’ said Krath hastily. ‘I’ll stick to saying Lolette in future.’
Playdon nodded. ‘See that you do. Now the Stasis box. Any feelings, Jarra?’
‘Just that this is important,’ I said. ‘Not sure if it’s important in a good or bad way.’
‘Yes,’ said Playdon. ‘All the guidelines say we treat this stasis box with extreme caution, so I’m afraid you watch this one from the sleds with the rest of the class. I’ll let you help me with the next standard memorial type box we find, but this one is too
unknown.’
I know when arguing may get me somewhere and when it won’t. ‘Thank you. I look forward to that.’ I retreated to the sleds with good grace.
‘I have to call this in to Dig Site Command,’ said Playdon. ‘If anything nasty happens when I’m working on this stasis box, the rest of you head for the emergency evac portal and get through it as fast as possible. Don’t ask questions, just go. Jarra, you would tell Dig Site Command what was happening.’
‘Yes, sir,’ I said.
‘This is Asgard 6,’ said Playdon on the broadcast channel. ‘We have a non-standard, suspect stasis box. I wish to investigate in situ rather than risk transport. Request clearance to perform on site Stasis Q analysis.’
‘This is Dig Site Command. Activating your nearest emergency evac portal now. You are cleared to test.’
Playdon set up his sensor ring round the strange stasis box, and started work. The rest of us waited nervously, talking in whispers with our comms set to listen only.
‘How bad could it be in that box?’ asked Fian.
‘No limit,’ I said. ‘Poison. Explosives. Unstable radioactive materials. Anything really.’ I had one very specific worry in my head, given the size and shape of the box, and that was missiles, but I didn’t want to tempt fate by saying it.
‘I hope Playdon knows what he’s doing,’ muttered Krath.
‘He’s full Stasis Q licensed,’ I told them, ‘and that’s special.’
‘You’re really aiming to get a licence?’ asked Fian. ‘It sounds dangerous.’
‘I’m going to try,’ I said, ‘but you have to be really good.’
We waited in silence after that, while Playdon gave occasional updates saying the box was clear of various hazards. He was obviously taking this very slowly and cautiously. Finally, he nodded. ‘I can’t see any hazards at all, so I’m taking the field strength down to just under ten per cent and running a quick sensor scan.’
We held our breath.
‘It looks fine in there,’ said Playdon, in an odd sort of voice. ‘I can see five separate cylinders. I’m going to collapse the stasis field and open it for a very quick look.’
We held our breath again.
‘It’s paintings,’ said Playdon. ‘Five paintings. This is amaz. I think this is a stolen art gallery storage box. I daren’t unroll the paintings to look at them. We’re getting this straight to the experts.’
‘A gallery box,’ said Dalmora, shakily. ‘We lost so many ancient paintings in Exodus …’
‘If we’ve found the Mona Lisa,’ said Krath, ‘we’ll all be rich.’
Playdon spoke on the broadcast channel. ‘This is Asgard 6. We have what looks like a stolen art gallery storage box with five paintings. Requesting instructions.’
‘This is Dig Site Command. Head for the emergency evac portal and send them through. Dispatching evaluation team now to receive them.’
Our sled convoy headed to the portal, and Playdon allowed us one quick glimpse of the precious canvas rolls inside the storage box before they went through the small circle into the hands of the waiting experts. It was only then that I realized how many hours I’d spent working in an impact suit, and how tired I was.
25
That evening I was truly exhausted. I headed straight into the mobile dome, and there was a moment of pure blizz when I changed into my sleep suit and crawled into my sleep sack. I lay there whimpering.
Fian appeared after a while, in his impact suit with the hood down. ‘They’re starting the cooking outside.’
‘I don’t care,’ I said.
‘Dalmora’s singing.’
‘I don’t care. Every muscle in my body is screaming.’
Fian looked worried. ‘It must have been tough out there. The rest of us were mostly just sitting around watching and I know it’s a huge physical effort being tag leader.’
‘You have no idea,’ I moaned. ‘Let me quietly die.’
Fian looked really worried now. ‘I’d better get Playdon. There’s an evac portal nearby and you can be in hospital in …’
‘No!’ I said hastily. I’d obviously overdone the complaining. ‘I’m just exhausted, that’s all.’
‘I’m not used to Stalea of the Jungle getting worn out.’
I giggled.
‘You stay there, and I’ll bring some food when it’s ready,’ Fian said.
‘That sounds wonderful.’
He came back later, bearing baked potatoes and cheezit.
‘Food!’ I cried, and started eating greedily.
Fian changed out of his impact suit. I furtively admired the view of him in his skintight while still munching my cheezit. He looked good in his sleep suit too.
‘I was thinking,’ he said.
It’s the sort of phrase that tends to be a bad sign. ‘Yes?’ I asked warily.
He picked up his plate of food. ‘When we leave New York to move to a new dig site, we get a few days break, and I’m supposed to be going home to Hercules. I thought maybe you’d like to come with me. Meet my parents.’
That sounded serious.
‘It might be a nice time to register a Twoing contract,’ Fian continued.
That sounded incredibly serious. ‘Wouldn’t that be rushing things a little?’
‘Not if we’re both sure that it’s what we want.’ He gave me one of his earnest looks. ‘I know it’s what I want. How do you feel?’
I hesitated. ‘Well, I hadn’t expected us to move on to contracts quite this fast.’
Fian shook his head, and gave an overacted sigh of depression. ‘I’m shocked by your behaviour, Jarra. We’ve just spent the night together, and I’m a nice contract boy. I’m in exactly the same situation as your poor friend Issette. You have to do the honourable thing, like your brother did, and give me my Twoing contract.’
I laughed. ‘It’s hardly the same thing. We haven’t …’ I broke off and frowned suspiciously at him. ‘Fian Andrej Eklund, are you thinking that if we have a Twoing contract you’ll get to tumble me?’
He managed to grin and blush, both at the same time. ‘Well, I’m assuming there’d be an … adjustment of some physical boundaries.’ He gave me a cautious look of assessment, before putting on a fake martyred expression. ‘Things are pretty strict back on Hercules, but I’m perfectly willing to adjust to whatever you feel is appropriate behaviour for a couple with a Twoing contract. It’ll be a sacrifice of course, but I care about you a great deal, so I’m prepared to suffer.’
I giggled. ‘I can’t demand such a sacrifice from a well-behaved Deltan.’
He dropped the martyr act and grinned shamelessly. ‘You must have noticed by now that I’m a very badly-behaved Deltan. I get bored by science, I like history, and I’m a fan of a suggestive vid series. Incidentally, I’m thinking that when we’ve got our Twoing contract, you’ll need to explain the new arrangements to me. The best way to do that might be if you throw me across the jungle clearing, pin me down and … demonstrate.’
I was giggling helplessly by now, but our solitude was suddenly invaded. The rest of the class had had enough of impact suits and had decided to follow our example and eat inside the dome. Things got a bit noisy and confused, so Fian let the subject of meeting his parents and signing up for Twoing contracts drop for the moment.
Krath seemed to have abandoned hopes of me, correctly decided that Dalmora was totally out of his sector, and was now trying to ingratiate himself with Amalie. She was unimpressed.
‘I may be an old maid,’ she said, ‘but I’m not that desperate.’
‘What’s an old maid?’ asked Krath.
Dalmora explained. ‘A woman who is still unmarried at an age when most women would be.’
Krath looked suspiciously at Amalie. ‘How old are you then? You don’t look that old.’
‘I’m 18,’ said Amalie, ‘but Epsilon is the frontier. Most people leave school at 15. You can have Twoing contracts at 16, and marry at 17. Just about all the girls from my year at school are
married.’ She shrugged. ‘Don’t think I haven’t had offers either. I’ve had over twenty men ask me to marry them, and only one of them was drunk.’
‘What?’ Krath looked utterly grazzed.
I was giggling by now. ‘Most people moving to Epsilon sector are male, so there are about ten unmarried men for every unmarried woman. Amalie can take her pick any time she wants a man, or two for that matter.’
‘Two?’ Krath frowned.
‘Triad marriage is legal in Epsilon,’ said Amalie, ‘but only for one woman and two men because of the imbalance of the sexes. I’m not married yet, because I stayed on at school and I’m getting my history degree. Our University is in the planetary development plan for four years time. I’ve a position arranged to teach history there when I’ve got my degree.’
‘It’s a big contrast to Alpha sector,’ said Dalmora. ‘We normally marry at somewhere near 30, though individual planetary customs vary hugely because they were settled from different regions of Earth.’
‘There’s a general rule,’ I said, ‘that the older the sector, the longer people wait to marry. There’s a historical theorem about it.’
‘Quin’s theorem.’ Playdon unexpectedly joined in the conversation. ‘It applies to periods back in pre-history too. People marry younger in newly settled areas, and where less education is available.’
‘But what about Beta?’ Joth asked in a blatant attempt to divert the subject away from any mathematical lectures.
Everyone laughed.
‘Lolia and Lolmack are 24,’ said Dalmora, ‘and they’ve been married for two years. Until I talked to Lolia, I just thought of Beta sector as being casual about sex, but it’s far more complicated than that, with a rigid clan and class structure. Betans have no nudity taboo, which gives other sectors the wrong idea about them, but actually only the lower class plebeian clans are involved in the sex vid industry. It’s profitable, so Lolia and Lolmack’s clan cluster is wealthy, but they have to struggle hard for social status, and few clans will intermarry with them.’
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