“Stop,” Jim commanded, peering at the rocks to his right. The low hum of the motors ceased and the craft drifted.
“Something there?” Carol asked, leaning over Jim to look.
“A crevice in the rocks next to that big red one. I think I know what it is. Ah.. forward, slow, twenty degrees right.” The craft obeyed. “Stop, ninety degrees right and down a meter.” The craft swung around and slowly descended. “Tilt forward ten degrees.”
“What is it?” Carol asked, intently looking out the front.
“Wait, you’ll see.”
Seconds later, a dark gray nose appeared. Jim raised the identifier and focused. “Identify.”
“Insufficient image to identify.”
Jim sat back and waited. A head appeared with a long mouth, needle like teeth and part of a long slender body. Jim focused the device a second time. “Identify.”
“Moray Eel, original, Old Earth. Purpose, over population reduction”
“Details?” Carol asked.
“The Moray Eel is an original from Old Earth. No genetic alterations have been made. It is believed that this species has survived since the Exodus without mutation. As no record of its original genetic pattern still exists, this cannot be confirmed. Diet, small fish and crustaceans. It can be harmful to humans as its...”
“Stop,” Jim said. “Yep, these things can take a good solid bite out of you but only if you go playing with them.”
“Oooo, it does look mean. Let’s go see some nicer fish.”
“Resume course,” Jim said.
The craft rose then slowly turned about. It rocked slightly as it glided down a long, rocky slope.
“Notify us when we’re out of the no feeding zone.”
“Affirmative”
They passed over small outcrops of coral; the identifier explained that it was too new a growth to have formed a reef as yet. It made reference to the giant barrier reefs mentioned in the Young Encyclopedia. Small brightly colored fish darted in and out of the formations. They slowed as they passed over each one, identifying as many species as they had time for. Only one in twenty was labeled ‘Original, Old Earth’.
“Exiting no feeding zone.” the computer announced.
“What was the command to release food?” Jim asked and Carol reached for a pad next to her chair.
“Here it is. Release one unit food.”
A small cloud of rice and other cereals exploded into view in front of them. Within seconds, visibility was cut to less than a meter. Clouds of dazzling color filled their view, a swirling mass darting left and right after the floating grains of food. Jim raised the identifier then lowered it again. There were too many fish to focus on just one.
Carol looked around their inverted aquarium. “Oh my!” she said.
“I wish the boys were here,” Jim said softly. He reached out and tapped the bubble next to a slender orange and black fish that seemed to be inspecting them inside. “Do they have four seaters?”
“Yes, the seats swivel up to make bunk beds for overnight trips. I’ve seen pictures of them in the brochures.”
“I’ve just decided, I’m going to buy one of these when I get a chance.”
“Don’t be silly, you have to be quite wealthy to aff.... Oh, that’s right you are quite wealthy,” said Carol who sat back with a case of the giggles. “I forgot that. I think it’s because you actually take time to talk to people as if they were human.”
“I’m making a mental list of everything I want when the problems are settled. On this planet I’ve added an ocean viewer, a foil boat and one of those ski things we saw yesterday.”
“And all of that’ll make you happy?”
“Happier than a dog with two tails.” Jim paused and his face dropped slightly. “Actually the only thing I really want is to have my boys with me.”
The mass of fish slowly dispersed when the food ran out. The ocean viewer continued, gliding quietly between the massive rock formations and over small patches of sand. They slowed to watch sea anemones feeding and odd looking crab like creatures walking the sea floor in small herds. The light began to dim as they went deeper. Twice more they fed the fish. Each time a completely different set of creatures came to their call.
“Whoa! What was that?” Jim exclaimed, leaning forward and looking down.
“Where?”
“We just went over it. Stop, turn one hundred and eighty degrees.”
The motor stopped, the craft swung about to face the way it had come. It slowly drifted backward carried by its original momentum. Jim raised the identifier and focused on a brilliantly colored yellow fish gliding slowly over the rocks. Numerous filmy membranes trailed from long spines and billowed to twice its length behind. Its scales seemed to sparkle in the dim light. A long slender snout searched the rocks for food.
“Identify.”
“Yellow Messenger of the Gods, designed 1832 at the Haverson lab. Purpose, general bottom feeder.”
“Details.”
“Originally designed 1828, redesigned 1832. Found only on Brougham’s Folly. Winner of the Herst award 1838 and the Gaddy award 1839.’
“That’s the best one we’ve seen yet,” Carol said.
“Resume course,” Jim said.
They both continually searched in all directions as the craft moved. A shiny object caught Jim’s eye. “What’s that?” Jim asked. He picked up the identifier and focused. “Identify.”
“Object, metallic, purpose unknown.”
“We must be near that wreck,” Carol said, looking around.
The craft rose slightly to clear a small ridge. Beyond lay a gigantic grayish cylindrical object half embedded in the rock and sand.
“Identify.”
“Rear section of the battle cruiser Montieth. Built 1167, crashed at this location 1174”
“Details.”
“The battle cruiser Montieth, built 1167 at the Spencer space dock. Entered service with the Brougham’s Folly space fleet 1168. Fought at the battles of Canai and Plessita during the War of Independence. Severely damaged during a skirmish in the Ross system, it returned in 1173 for repairs. The haste with which the cruiser was repaired was deemed responsible for the failure of the main engines as the cruiser attempted to leave orbit. The cruiser lost altitude. The crew was ordered to the life pods. Its commander, Captain Samuel Mosley remained at the controls to manually steer it away from populated areas. He, and two other crewmen, lost their lives in the disaster.”
Jim surveyed the dull metallic surface. “The gutsy bastard,” he said with sincerity. “I’m surprised that the thing is so clean. Can’t see a single thing growing on it anywhere.”
“I’ve heard that it’s the alloy the ship is made from. No sea creature can attach itself.”
“Let’s go over there and have lunch,” Jim pointed. “Ninety degrees left.”
The craft made a sweeping bank turn then headed away from the wreck. Rounding a large rock, Jim looked up as a second ocean viewer came into sight. It sat on a rocky escarpment overlooking a small ravine. The occupants, a black couple, waved when they saw Jim and Carol approach.
“Stop,” Jim said. He smiled and waved back.
“Ocean viewer in the vicinity wishes to open voice communication,” the computer said.
“Open communications,” Jim replied.
“Hello, how do you like it out here?” said a male voice in a slightly Caribbean accent. “I am John and this is my wife Lisa.”
“We’re Frank and Carol, and this is fantastic,” Jim said.
“Did you see the volcanic rift on the way here? It is called the organ pipes.”
Carol picked up the pad and looked up the map. “Here it is,” she said to Jim in a soft voice, below the level at which the computer would transmit. She then spoke louder. “We can see that on the way back.”
“It is worth going out of the way. The ocean floor drops into a valley, then you see three hundred meter tall volcanic columns lined up to look like a gian
t pipe organ.”
“We also want to see the kelp forest,” Jim said. “But it’s a matter of time to fit everything in. Wait one.”
Jim had a brief conference with the computer, finding that it was possible to see both if they didn’t stop for lunch.
They re-established communications. “Have to get a move on if we’re going to see everything,” Jim said.
The man raised a red and white, Old Earth style beer container in a toast. “Have a good time.”
Jim returned the salute with his own mixed drink. “You too.”
“Eyes off,” Carol said and she hit Jim on the upper arm. “Without looking I know what you’re staring at.”
The ocean viewer took off at top speed. “Damn it, I like beer,” Jim said.
* * *
Jim was disappointed when he saw the beach again. He would have liked to have found a nice cliff overlooking a beautiful under ocean scene and laid back to sleep the night. Instead, he had to be content with a play they had tickets for that evening.
They boarded a shuttle car to make the twenty kilometer trip to the theater district. It traveled through an underground tube. No roads connected areas at ground level. The surface of the island was reserved for adventure hiking trails and horseback riding.
They had reserved seats that were in a far corner of the theater. This was so that Carol could explain parts of the performance that Jim didn’t comprehend.
The lines outside the theater moved quickly. The foursome took their seats with Jim and Carol in the corner.
The play itself was a collection of short stories, the stage revolved between each bringing the next scene into view. The first was a comedy about a family on a frontier planet. Trapped by a snow storm in a cabin, they slowly worked on each other’s nerves. Jim needed little explanation and laughed as loud as everyone else.
The second was a tragedy about a man whose brother had died. It required some whispered questions and answers. It surprised Jim that he did understand most things said. The stage revolved again. He looked forward to the third, a farcical comedy.
Three inept would be revolutionaries sat at a desk plotting the overthrow of the Commonwealth government. After about five minutes of verbally assembling a space fleet, a simulated computer voice announced. “Conference connection with Batalavia in thirty seconds.”
Actor one. “And now, for the key to the plan, discrediting the members of the council. It worked well in the over-throw of the De Poulets, it will work just as well for us too. Remember our cover, we are university professors involved in a genealogy project.” All three picked up their stage prop pads in unison and read them as though they were nearsighted.
A 3V image of a fourth actor appeared at one end of the table. The three put down their pads in unison.
Actor one. “Thank you for answering our request for assistance Mr. Young.”
Actor four. “Call me Jim.” He then leaned back in his chair and assumed a relaxed pose.
The last two lines brought accolades from the audience.
“I don’t sit like that,” Jim whispered.
“Yes you do,”
Actor one. “As I told you, in the V mail I sent, we are researching the ancestry of members of the council. If I read a list of names, would you tell me what you know of them? The first name is Geonetti.”
“He’s minister of finance,” Carol whispered.
Actor four. “I went to school with a Geonetti. All I can remember about him is that he failed math.”
The three immediately jumped to their pads in unison then looked up.
“I don’t talk like that,” Jim whispered.
“Yes you do,”
Actor one. “How about McConnel?”
Actor four. “That was my next door neighbor’s name.”
Actor one. “Did you notice anything unusual about him?”
Actor four. “Every father’s day he did receive thousands of paper postal cards.”
“Member McConnel is extremely religious and campaigns for morality in the media,” Carol whispered.
Actor one. “Member McConnel’s ancestors came from Scotland. Did any of the cards come from there?”
Actor four. “Only one.”
Actor one. “One out of thousands?”
Actor four. “Well, he told me that he was only there for a fifteen minute stopover.”
Again the three jumped at their pads.
“My next door neighbor’s name was Ogilvy,” Jim whispered. “And he was a black guy.”
Actor one. “How about Rivers?”
Actor four. “I didn’t know any people named Rivers, but River was the name of a friend of mine’s dog.”
Once again enthusiastic entries were made.
* * *
A full moon was out as they left the theater and slowly strolled back to the shuttle station. A river flowed through the city with a pleasant tree lined walk along one bank.
“How much of it did you understand?” Chris asked.
“The serious ones, just fine, but a lot of the comedy escaped me.”
“You didn’t find it funny?” Celia asked.
“A lot of it I did, but for comedy you need a lot more background information. Like in that one about the transit station, what was the old man doing with that hat?”
“Oh,” Chris said, “that was a send up of an old standard routine done by a famous comic about fifty years ago.”
“That’s what I mean. In the serious stuff I understand falling off a cliff, losing all your money and your wife leaving you. Most comedy requires that you know something specific first, so you know what they’re making fun of.”
“I always considered comedy some sort of universal language,” Carol said after a moment of thought.
Chris slapped Jim on the shoulder. “I heard you laughing at that pioneer family’s problems. First hand experience eh?”
“What you told us sounded horrible,” Celia said.
“It wasn’t that bad. If I had to and had a family with me I could endure it.”
Carol laughed and grabbed Jim’s arm. “Well, some of us are more primitive than others.”
“What, you couldn’t do it?” Jim asked in surprise, he thought that Carol would have had what it took to be a survivor.
“Oh yes I could, I happen to be a bit of a primitive too.”
“You can say that again,” Celia said. “She’s always wanting to run off somewhere, to climb something or crawl through something yucky. I’m the one that can’t do without at least half a dozen autoserves.”
Jim thought for a while as he walked. He considered remaining Frank Dollison. The electronics company could have an arranged change of fortune allowing him a life of ease. The thought was quickly dismissed. Jim Young was his name. “One thing’s for certain,” he said. “If I had done what I have to do without going to Hebram and coming here first, I would’ve been caught. I’ve learned a lot in the past six weeks. They’d have spotted me easier before. But there’s one thing I’m not pleased about regarding the plan.”
The other three stopped and stood looking at him.
“What’s that?” Chris asked.
“The way I’m going to infiltrate. The cover story. I’m miserable because my company’s broke. You, my half brother, are having an affair with my wife Carol and I have a drinking problem.”
“What’s wrong with it?” Chris asked. “A background like that would make anyone turn to a religious organization for help.”
“Yes, but it’s all too miserable. Couldn’t I have had my own little affair with your wife, Celia.”
“But she doesn’t know anything about it,” Chris said.
“What’s this?” Jim said, trying to keep a straight face. “You and Carol have had all the fun. Celia and I don’t get a piece? That isn’t fair.”
“Well, I agree,” Celia said. “I should know about it and have had my own little affair with a traveling transit salesman from Concord.”
“Oh, not some
one from Concord,” Carol said. “I thought that my sister-in-law would have better taste than that.”
“That still leaves me with nothing,” Jim protested.
“That’s why you’re miserable,” Carol said. “The com-tech at the factory turned you down. The girl that came to the house to repair an autoserve turned you down and...”
“The Broncowski twins turned me down. Boy am I in a bad way. Looks like all I have left is to dial a one nine hundred number on the phone and pay the two dollars a minute.”
“What are one nine hundred numbers?” Carol asked.
All three gave Jim’s smiling face a questioning stare, then burst out laughing. He had made his point about understanding humor.
* * *
The remainder of the two week stay on Sanders Island passed quickly. Jim packed to leave vowing to return, next time with the boys. The task he was about to undertake continued to bother him. He would’ve preferred to have returned to a farm on Hebram, but what had to be done, had to be done.
The police inspector, who had questioned him over the assassination, visited once. During the covering of minor details Jim got the impression that the man was disinterested in his answers. He surmised that brief interview had no other purpose than to make things look official.
* * *
It was their last night. The foursome stood outside to watch the sky show. Gigantic holographic images appeared overhead. Some were of recognizable items, while others were purely abstract. Each changed colors and size while flashing and shimmering. Most gave way to the next by exploding into a million sparkling pieces. The show was enhanced by small clouds that happened to drift into the display. The images distorted, billowing over the cloud’s surface, creating an even more dramatic effect.
At the conclusion of the show Jim excused himself then wandered alone in the direction of the hotel’s small shopping center. Half an hour later he returned carrying a twelve-pack of his favorite beverage and retired to the 3V room. The frequency at which he watched 3V had increased in the past week. It was a good media to learn the culture and attitudes he had to assume for his disguise. Once back on Gato, he would be without his three friends to explain things and cover up his mistakes.
The Time Stone (The Time Stone Trilogy Book 1) Page 33