"Huh. Fat chance. She doesn't know a thing about translation units."
"I suppose not. Do you need her back in here?"
"No. I don't need either of you. As soon as you get that piece of junk out of the way I'm going to take the Mood Indigo up to the surface for a look round. I expect I'll be gone for a few hours, so try not to do anything too stupid."
"Are you interested in the thing that we thought might be a Link entry point?"
"Could be." That was apparently as much as Indigo intended to say about his exploration plans. He turned away and added, "Get that lump of garbage outside. I want to start the thrustors as soon as you're clear."
Bony thought of half a dozen rude answers, said nothing, and set to work to flood the cargo bay. Let Indigo worry about getting the water out again. He pushed the awkwardly shaped tube over the lip and allowed it to tumble to the sea floor. Peering after it, he saw Liddy still squatting calmly on the seabed surrounded by an attentive ring of bubble folk.
He went out after the tube, suddenly aware of his own fatigue. He wanted to take a brief rest, but Indigo's voice at once came crackling in his ear. "All right, Rombelle. Stop loafing. You have three minutes before I lift the ship."
Bony nodded wearily—Indigo was clearly watching him on an internal display—and stumbled across to Liddy. "We have to get out of the way. Bubble people, too."
Liddy was bending low, peering anxiously at him across the gulf of their two visors. "Is everything all right?"
Bony swore a royal internal oath. If they survived—if he could free her from servitude to Friday Indigo—if she wanted to go—he would take Liddy on a year-long holiday, just the two of them, to the ends of the solar system and beyond. Three "ifs" in one sentence. "Everything is fine, but Indigo is proposing to raise the ship. We have to be well clear when he does."
"Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. I'm awake. I'm ready to go." Three lies in three sentences. He was improving. "Just let's get everybody clear."
She didn't argue, but grabbed one end of the L-tube and helped him to carry it across to the seated group of bubble people. With gestures from her, the whole party moved off to a safe distance from the Mood Indigo, and watched as the ship lifted away from the surface with a great stirring of sediments.
Liddy was staring at him again. "You look really tired. Is it all right if we talk for a moment?"
"With Friday Indigo gone I feel better already. I'm awake. Talk away."
"Well, I know I'm not very bright; but you see, when I was outside by myself I had an idea. We don't really know anything about the bubble people, what sort of information they absorb, or how much, or how fast. So as well as talking to them myself, I set up a vocal data feed from the Mood Indigo's general data base. People a whole lot smarter than me, talking about humans and human activities."
"Liddy, that was a great idea."
"I'm not so sure. You remember the sort of gibberish we got when Indigo tried, that `Is it Monday for the flower' sort of thing?"
"Of course."
"Well, for the past few minutes I haven't been getting exactly that. I'm not sure it's much better than Indigo's try, but it is different. I recorded everything of course, but I've edited what you'll hear. Listen to this bit."
Bony heard a sequence of squeaks, as though a colony of mice had invaded his suit's headset; and then, quite clearly, a synthesized voice: " . . . we go to the other ship before we go to the other ship. The other other ship sent us to the other ship, and then sent us to this in the wood of sharp."
Bony wondered if that was supposed to make sense. Maybe he was more tired than he realized. "Play it again."
"All right. But there's another piece I want you to hear."
The recorded translation was repeated, then went on: "The one ship is not the other ship or the other other ship. The one ship is the ship of the angels. The angels of the one ship send us to the other ship and the other other ship."
Bony yawned. He had never expected to find the seabed of an alien planet relaxing, but here he was half ready to fall asleep. "It doesn't make any more sense than what was said to Friday Indigo."
"Oh."
"I'm not criticizing you, Liddy. You tried. What did you think it meant?"
"Well, I know I'm not good at thinking. I wasn't trained to use my mind. From the time I was ten years old I was trained to use my body. But I thought—I guess it doesn't matter what I thought."
"It does." God, was he humoring her? That would be as bad as Friday Indigo. "Liddy, what's your idea?"
"Well . . . I wondered at that word, angel. Of all the words the translator might pick, why that one? I suppose it could be random. But maybe the Limbic really meant Angel, like one of the aliens we call an Angel. I know, there isn't an Angel on board the ship that we were taken to. But if the Mood Indigo is this ship, and the Pipe-Rilla vessel is the other ship, then what's the other other ship?"
"There were supposedly two alien ships that came to the Geyser Swirl before we did. You think—"
"Isn't it possible? That one of them, the ship Indigo and I were taken to, has a crew of Pipe-Rillas and Tinkers. But the other ship, what the Limbics call the other other ship—"
"Has a crew of Angels. I hear you. Play it one more time."
Bony listened hard, concentrating to the limits of his tired brain. At the end he shook his head. "I can't tell. I see what you're getting at, that there's another ship here and it directed the Limbics to us and to the Pipe-Rilla vessel. But this is all guesswork. Even if you're right, what we have to do next is clear enough. Come on. Grab the tube again, and let's go."
The walk across the ocean floor was only a few hundred meters. Say that fast and it sounded easy, but Bony soon learned that forward progress was difficult verging on impossible. The L-shaped section of tube seemed to have a mind of its own, tilting and twisting in unexpected directions. The seafloor pink fingers insisted on inspecting the pipe and were sometimes reluctant to let go, providing extra resistance to movement. The mid-sea rise, hardly noticeable when you crossed it unencumbered, seemed to have become much steeper. Bony's face-plate began to steam up, reminding him that the suit was designed for space and not for work under the sea. He looked for Liddy, holding the other end of the tube, and saw only a foggy blur. Everything must be just as difficult for Liddy, but she was struggling on without complaint. If she could do it, he could. He trudged on, head down, exhausted and unable to see where he was going.
He was at the end of his tether and ready to call for a break when suddenly everything became easier. The tube seemed to weigh nothing and glided forward of its own volition. Startled, Bony released his hold and looked around him. Four of the bubble people had taken the sides of the tube and were carrying it easily through the water. Their strength was impressive. Just as well that they seemed a peaceful lot.
Did they have any idea where he and Liddy were going? Apparently so. The Pipe-Rilla ship lay straight ahead, encouragingly close. During the final hundred meters, his suit visor lost its fog and his fatigue lessened.
Ten meters from the sunken ship, Bony released his hold on the pipe section and gestured to the bubble folk to do the same. They ignored him. He went across to them and turned the thrustors of his suit on at a low level. He pointed to the exhaust and said, "Dangerous. Don't stay too close." They didn't seem to understand; they didn't move.
Liddy came across to stand next to him. She repeated, "Dangerous. Drop the tube. Don't stay too close. Move away."
After an odd gobbling sound, Bony heard the distorted words, "Not too close. Move away."
They came from the translator, which he now realized was strapped at Liddy's side. She had carried it all the way from the Mood Indigo, while still holding up her end of the tube. She had not lied—she was much stronger than she looked. And now the bubble men were drifting away, moving off to a safe distance.
He turned to Liddy, who said softly, "The translator has heard a lot more of me than it has of yo
u. At the moment it's better at my voice than yours. That's all."
"But you thought to bring it with you—I didn't. I don't ever want to hear you say again that you're not smart. Don't tell that to me, and don't listen to Indigo when he says it. Because it's not true. You're not just beautiful, you're also intelligent and resourceful."
"I'll do what you ask under one condition. Don't you ever tell me again that you are fat and clumsy. Because that's not true. You're well-proportioned and attractive."
There could hardly be a worse place and time. Liddy had moved very close, but they were separated by the infinite distance of two space-suits. Anything that Bony might have done—if he had dared—would have to wait. He stepped away from Liddy and said, "We're not finished yet, and the tricky bit is still to come. We have to get this tube up there and sealed to the hull, and it will be just the two of us because I'm afraid our suit exhausts might damage the bubble people. Are you up for it?"
"I'll manage."
"Wait until I lift the other end."
Maybe it was easier to turn the tube than to carry it across the uneven seabed, or maybe experience made the difference. Whatever the reason, they maneuvered the tube without problems up the side of the Pipe-Rilla ship, using their suit jets to lift themselves and direct the L-section into position. The seal was still tricky work and Bony wished—for maybe half a second—that Friday Indigo was there to help. It was a long, tedious, three-quarters of an hour until the horizontal part of the L-section was snugly mated to the hull of the ship. The vertical portion curved down toward the seabed. Now there was one remaining problem. The aliens inside needed to operate the lock. Bony could see no way of doing it from the outside.
"Stay here." He left Liddy inside the vertical section of tube and descended once more to the seabed. He advanced to the ship's port, but as before the view within was hidden by the cloak of purple Tinker wings. He swore, raised the gauntlet of his suit, and hammered as hard as he dared on the port.
Nothing. But with a second series of bangs, the cluster of Tinker wings shivered, fluttered, and was suddenly gone. In their place, staring at Bony with big-eyed concentration, was a Pipe-Rilla, lowering her fourteen-foot body with a cantilevering of long, multijointed limbs until she was face-to-face with him at the port.
He gestured and shouted, hoping she could see his expressions inside his suit or hear his voice through the hull. "Up there. At the airlock." A frantic turning of his hands, as though working a screw. "It's safe to use, you can operate it. I"—finger pointing at himself—"will go up there"— pointing up again—"and enter as soon as it's open."
Did she have any idea what he was getting at? He had no experience with the aliens, no way of knowing how to read their body language. As for facial expressions, you could forget them. The Pipe-Rillas had rigid exoskeletons.
He pointed upward again. "I'm going there now. You operate the airlock." More turning of his hands. "And I will come in."
Had there been a movement of the narrow head, a tremble of understanding? Bony watched. At last, when the imagined movement was not repeated, he left the port and rejoined Liddy. She was still waiting by the airlock.
"Did they understand?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. We'll have to wait and see."
He probably sounded as discouraged as he felt. His talent, if he had any, was for improvising. A more logical man would have prepared the ground thoroughly in advance, making sure through written signals that the Pipe-Rilla inside knew what he had been doing. As it was, he and Liddy might be forced to wait here until their air was running out, then return to the safety of the Mood Indigo with nothing to show but failure.
From somewhere, near or far, came a strange, creaking rumble. Liddy grabbed his arm. "Bony."
"I don't know what it was. Wait a few seconds."
It took considerably more than that. Maybe two whole minutes passed before the grinding rumble came again. But this time Bony recognized it for what it was: A motor at work, irising open a sealed hatch. It was another few seconds before the gap was visible, but now the wait did not seem long. Soon they heard a hiss of air.
Half a minute more, and the hatch was fully open. The water level in the vertical part of the L-section dropped a meter, then steadied. Bony and Liddy stepped through the hatch, and waited until it closed.
Liddy reached out and gave Bony a nervous hug. The inner hatch still had to go through its cycle, but the hard work was over. They were, at last, about to enter a Pipe-Rilla vessel.
They were going to meet Stellar Group aliens.
16: LINKING TO THE GEYSER SWIRL
The Hero's Return was no longer a military ship, yet Chan Dalton assumed its affairs would run with at least a semblance of military precision.
He had been watching the clock. The time for leaving Ceres orbit was set for midnight. As soon as that departure took place, Deb Bisson would be unable to leave the ship. She would be forced to travel to the Link entry point, and from there to the Geyser Swirl.
He had checked that Deb was aboard and in prime living quarters, but to avoid meeting her he had moved hundreds of meters away, hiding far forward in an empty region once occupied by a major weapons system. As soon as the ship was heading out he planned to go aft and find her.
But midnight had come and gone, and the Hero's Return floated in space as silent as a ghost ship. After ten frustrating minutes Chan started aft. Something had gone wrong, and he needed to find out what.
The first person he met was Elke Siry. She was heading forward, though he knew of nothing that lay in that direction. She would have moved past him had he not stood in her way.
He spread his arms wide to block the narrow passageway. "Do you know why departure has been delayed?"
She frowned at him, pale brows shadowing her icy blue eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"We were supposed to leave at midnight. It's almost twelve-fifteen, and we haven't moved. Why?"
Instead of answering his question, she ducked under his arm and eased past him in the corridor. "Come with me."
Chan, baffled, followed. In seventy meters they were at the extreme forward end of the ship. Elke led him on, through a narrow round hatch into a bubble of transparent plastic.
"This is where I was going anyway," she said. "It's the bow observation port. There's no better place to look at the stars, and see what's ahead of the ship."
She spoke as though her words provided some kind of explanation. Chan was about to voice his frustration when he followed her pointing finger.
"Ceres," she said. The biggest of all the asteroids loomed large to the right of the Hero's Return. It was sliding rapidly backward, as though its orbital motion took it in that direction. But its sunlit hemisphere was also to the rear. That implied Ceres was dropping directly toward the Sun.
Chan turned to Elke, and found her watching him with a superior expression. "No, Ceres isn't moving sunward," she said. "We're moving away from the Sun. We're heading for the Asteroid Belt's closest Link entry point, three and a half million kilometers farther out. The drive was turned on precisely at midnight."
"But I didn't feel a thing."
"Because the Hero's Return was designed as a military ship. The engines can produce acceleration bursts of up to twenty-five gees. That would kill the crew if you didn't do anything about it, so anywhere that the crew might be was equipped with inertia shedders. We'll never reach those levels of acceleration, of course, but even two gees would be uncomfortable. General Korin thought we might as well get the benefit of the shedders."
"I can't hear the drive. Surely we ought to, even this far forward."
"Do you know what engine noise signifies?" When Chan merely shrugged, she went on. "Engine noise—noise of any kind—is a warning flag for inefficiency. Noise doesn't help the drive to work. It doesn't provide useful information on engine status. It's not something a designer aims to produce. Quite the opposite. In a mechanical system, noise and excess heat tell you that you
are wasting energy. In a military ship it is worse than that. Noise and heat can also announce the ship's presence to an enemy. Hence, the engines of this ship were made as efficient—and noise-free—as possible. If you do hear anything, it's a sure sign that something is going wrong."
Her manner was so loaded with condescension and cool contempt that the temptation to argue was almost irresistible. Was she looking for a fight? Or was this her normal way of dealing with mere mortals?
Just now, Chan did not have the time to find out. He had asked Danny Casement to say nothing until he, Chan, had the chance to talk to Deb Bisson. But silence became harder for Danny as time went on and other team members wondered why they had not yet seen the Bun on board.
"Thank you, Dr. Siry. I promise I'll come back later and take a better look." Chan managed a smile and hurried out of the observation chamber. At the hatch he turned to ask, "Do you know when we are scheduled for transition?"
"Of course." Raised eyebrows, at so elementary a question. "Link entry will take place seven and a half hours from now."
"Thank you." After the first show of gratitude, the next one came easier. Chan resisted the urge to say more and began the long trip aft. The trouble with Elke Siry's superiority complex was that it appeared to be justified. Chan had wondered after their last meeting if she might be some sort of ringer, planted on the team as a supposed scientist because of her relationship to General Korin. He had done a data download, and decided that if Elke were a plant the job had been done thoroughly. The records showed a full life story, from child prodigy in mathematics and music, to original discoveries in theoretical physics by the time she was seventeen. Now, at twenty-five, her list of important contributions spilled over into three digits.
What was so valuable a scientist doing on this high-risk expedition? Maybe Korin had talked her into it, but Chan doubted that. There were hints in the record not only of a formidable brain, but just as formidable a will. What Elke wanted, Elke got. She was here because she was interested in the Geyser Swirl, and the mystery of the new Link entry point.
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