But it was the structures in the great clearing that attracted Nikki’s attention. The first thing she noticed was by far the most incongruous, totally out of keeping with her mental image of the outpost. It was a stockade fence, ten feet or more high, constructed of logs driven vertically into the ground. Like the fence around a cavalry fort in a Western movie, for God’s sake, she thought incredulously. From her vantage point, the area enclosed by the stockade looked about a hundred yards in diameter and roughly circular. Circular, that was, apart from the area along the river bank. Where the stockade met the shoreline, the line of logs changed its angle, now leading straight out into the water fifty feet or so — presumably that’s how far offshore the river started to grow deep, she thought. The result was that the compound was open to the river for a distance of maybe thirty or forty yards.
The buildings within the compound matched the construction of the stockade fence — rough-hewn logs stacked one atop the other. The roofs were made from cut planks, slightly angled so that rain would pour off. Nikki could count eight buildings from where she was.
The largest, which looked to have two stories, was in the center, while the others — all single-floor — surrounded it. There was at least ten yards of open space between the buildings and the surrounding fence.
Nikki’s heart sank. To her eyes, the entire place looked bleak, and incredibly primitive. There was nothing she could see that spoke of technology more advanced than the way she pictured the 1880s or 1890s.
No, that wasn’t quite true, she realized after a moment. There were a couple of small boats tied up at two makeshift jetties extending from the bank. Smaller than the riverines, and considerably faster-looking, they were definitely contemporary technology. And there was something else near them, something that resembled a miniature hovercraft, just about big enough for two or three passengers.
As the riverine headed in toward the bank, the perspective changed. For the first time, Nikki could see something that had previously been concealed by the stockade fence. A small, sleek-lined helicopter. She nudged O’Neil and pointed.
But the pilot had already seen it, she could tell from his sour expression. “The buggers have got it waiting for me,” he grumbled. “Just great.”
The riverine slowed, and pulled alongside one of the wooden jetties. As security personnel on the dock tied off the lines, the riverine’s crew started unloading the passengers’ luggage. Carefully, Nikki and the rest stepped over the rail onto the dock, and waited for someone to tell them what to do next.
They didn’t have to wait long. A senior security officer — identified by flashes on the shoulders of his uniform — strode toward them, apparently from the direction of the central building. He stopped when he reached the dock, bowed to Nikki and the rest. The angle of his bow indicated guarded respect, but certainly no deference. “Welcome to the Inderagiri Research Facility,” he said brusquely. “You will please follow me to your accommodations.” Without waiting for any response, he turned on his heel and strode off toward the buildings.
Exchanging a wry glance with O’Neil, Nikki shouldered her bag and followed the officer.
The ground within the compound looked soft, almost muddy, and she couldn’t see any paths, either of concrete or any other material. But as she stepped off the wooden dock, she could see there were paths. In certain areas — like between the dock and the concentration of buildings — the earth had been chemically treated in some way. Although it looked no different from the surrounding ground, along these tracks it was dry and firm, feeling almost like concrete under her feet. Interesting, she thought. High technology at work, but not in any way you’d see on casual inspection. What did that mean? she wondered.
The security officer quickly split the group up, assigning them to different accommodation buildings — barracks, as Nikki found herself thinking of them. Toshima, Bojo and her other close colleagues were placed in one building near the center of the compound, while O’Neil and the two mechanics went to a smaller building nearer to the stockade. (“We’ll talk later,” O’Neil whispered to her as he headed inside.) That left Nikki. The security officer frowned. “Your presence has posed a problem, Carrson-san,” he grumbled. “No provisions were made for female staff when the research facility was constructed.” (He doesn’t call it “the outpost,” Nikki noted.) “When we were informed of your assignment to this project, we were forced to improvise.” As he spoke, he led her back toward the center of the compound.
“This is the building set aside for your workgroup’s lab, Carrson-san,” he told her, stopping before a rectangular, one-story structure about eighty feet long and half that wide. “Originally, in addition to the lab, storage area and other facilities, it was designed with an office for the workgroup leader’s use during the day. Unfortunately, since there is no other acceptable place to assign you, this office has been converted into your quarters. I regret that this means you have no office.” He hesitated, then went on, “I explain this to assure you that the arrangements are intended as no dishonor to you. Do you understand?”
Nikki looked into the man’s face, suddenly earnest. The Japanese concept of “face” again, she thought. They want to be sure I don’t think I’m losing face. (Except when they want me to lose face, another part of her mind added.) “I understand,” she told the officer politely. “Thank you for your concern.”
The man looked relieved. Such a contradiction, she mused for the thousand th time. Who but the Japanese can so well combine pig-headed, bloody-minded stubbornness with concern for all the niggling points of etiquette?
“Allow me to show you your quarters, then, Carrson-san.” The security officer opened the door — made of heavy, rough wood, Nikki noticed — and held it for her. She nodded her thanks and stepped inside.
And it was as if she was in another world. For a shocking instant, she thought she could well have been teleported back to the Nagara Building in Tokyo. The hallway in which she stood looked as though it had been transplanted directly from the corporate headquarters. The same overhead strip lighting, the same light blue-grey walls and floors of the executive levels. She glanced back at the door the security man was holding open for her. The inward side of the door — the side facing her—was metal, painted the same light shade as the rest of the interior.
The security officer was smiling broadly at her confusion. “A conscious decision by the designers,” he explained, answering her unspoken question. “It would seem to be advisable to conceal the nature of the research facility as much as possible.” He shrugged. “Who knows? Perhaps displays of high technology would attract the … ah, the ire of this region’s inhabitants.”
A shadow seemed to cross the man’s face as he spoke those last words. Inhabitants? Nikki wondered. Who are they? Or what? She considered pressing the officer for more details right then and there, but decided against it. I’ll find out soon enough, she told herself.
“Can you show me my quarters?” she asked aloud. *
It wasn’t hard to tell that her room had originally been intended as an office, Nikki thought. For one thing, it was small—about eight feet square, not much larger than her cabin aboard the freighter. Most of the floorspace was taken up by the bed, the metal wardrobe and the “footlocker” (as she thought of it). Adding to the cramped feeling, one corner of the small room was taken up by a table holding a sophisticated microcomputer. So this is supposed to be my office as well, she thought, tossing her shoulderbag onto the bed.
Curious, she sat down at the computer, powered it up and began to explore its capabilities. As well as having its own powerful processor, large hard drive and lots of onboard memory, she quickly found that it was networked to a much larger system somewhere else on the site. The best of both worlds, she thought, my own computer, but access to the storage and processing horsepower of a “big iron” mainframe.
She powered down the computer, sat back in her chair, lost in thought. So high tech does work here, after all, she mused
. The fluorescent lighting, the silent air conditioning, and, of course — most importantly — the computer system proved that. What did that say about the rumors she’d heard, about O’Neil’s tales of airplanes dropping out of the sky over Orrorsh? Where they just that — just tales and rumors? Or was there something special about the Inderagiri Research Facility — or maybe about this part of Orrorsh — that mitigated those weird effects?
She shrugged. Again, she was sure she’d find out soon enough.
A knock came on her door. “Yes?” she called.
A security guard stuck his head into the room — it was Dei, the young man who’d taught her how to handle a pistol. (The other riverines must have arrived, she realized.) Dei grinned warmly. “Konichi-was, Carrson-san. I have been instructed to inform you there will be an informational meeting in the main refectory in” — he glanced at his watch — “in twelve minutes. The facility director requests your attendance.”
She returned the young man’s smile. “I’ll be there, Dei-sflfz,” she assured him. With all the unanswered questions rattling around in her head, she wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Chapter Six
Nikki walked slowly out of the large central building. The sun, a distended red ball, was half-concealed by the treetops to the west. Due west, she reminded herself; they were so close to the equator — about 75 miles, she thought—that sunrises and sunsets weren’t offset because of latitude. I’m in the southern hemisphere. The thought struck her suddenly. The outpost was a little more than one degree of latitude south. Wasn’t there usually some strange ritual onboard ships when they crossed the equator? Some kind of “initiation” for people who’d never crossed the line before? She was sure she’d read something about that.
But of course, when the freighter had hit the equator, it had already been within Orrorsh, she recalled. That explained why nobody paid any attention to strange traditions.
Her pistol, in a button-flapped holster slung on her belt, felt very strange. Not only because of the unaccustomed weight. She could imagine she felt the lethal nature of the weapon, an uncomfortable presence against her left hip. She let her fingertips brush the leather holster, then drew them back quickly as though she’d touched something hot. Nikki Carlson,gunslinger. It made her very uncomfortable to carry the pistol, but the rules of the outpost were uncompromising on that point: all personnel will be armed at all times. And the “informational meeting” had convinced her that there might actually be reason for that caution.
The main refectory was in the two-story central building — which, Nikki learned, was devoted largely to administrative functions. The refectory itself was a large room with cafeteria-style tables, quite similar to the tenth-floor staff cafeteria in the Nagara Building — but without the huge windows, of course.
In some ways, the meeting had felt much like the gathering where Eichiro had announced the Inderagiri mission. The arrogant scientists from the Matsushima Bay facility had been sitting in a solid block up front, while the other members of Nikki’s workgroup had formed a similar unassailable knot. When Nikki had arrived, the only space for her had been at the very back. As she’d taken her seat, she’d spotted O’Neil sitting near the front with the mechanics and a couple of other men with oil-stained coveralls. He hadn’t noticed her arrival, and she hadn’t wanted to attract his attention.
Eichiro — under his new title of “facility director” — had opened the meeting precisely on time. His opening remarks had consisted largely of the “motherhood” statements Nikki had expected—glowing claims about how important the work of the Inderagiri Research Facility would be for Nagara Corporation, and how honored everyone present was to have been included in this historic undertaking. Nikki had basically tuned out the manager’s meaningless words —Semantic content zero, she thought with amusement — while entertaining herself by watching the reactions of everyone else in the room. If everyone here is honored, she’d reflected with a silent chuckle, they’re certainly hiding the fact well. It had been here that she’d finally caught O’Neil’s gaze. He’d shrugged and rolled his eyes. She’d thought, he’s as interested as I am — not.
None too soon, Eichiro had finished his preamble, and that’s when he’d moved on to more important issues: security considerations. There were a number of rules that it was vital the Inderagiri Research Facility personnel must follow, he’d stated firmly, all of which were for their own protection and continued good health. Firstly, everyone must carry their “personal defense devices” — Nikki had been grimly amused by this long-winded euphemism for “guns” — at all times. Secondly, nobody but authorized security personnel would be allowed outside the stockade compound after dark. And thirdly, even during the day non-security personnel could only leave the compound in pairs or larger groups, for mutual security.
Those had been the important ones. Eichiro had gone on, in the same sententious manner, listing other “security regulations,” but Nikki had tuned out as soon as she’d realized they were just common sense. The kinds of things parents say to their kids, she’d thought: Don’t leave the kitchen door open. Don’t touch strange animals. Never point your gun at somebody else. It’s all fun and games till somebody loses an eye. She’d let her attention drift again …
Only to have it focused again when Eichiro had started talking about the dangers that existed in the area. His presentation had been much too wordy and not all that clear — like your typical business report, she’d thought — but the content had certainly made her sit up and take notice.
There were potentially dangerous creatures in the jungle, Eichiro had explained — panthers, tigers, plus several species of poisonous snake and venomous spiders. Most of these were as cautious about people as people were about them, the manager had stressed, so some simple — and common-sense — precautions should prevent tragedies.
But, he’d gone on, there were other things in the jungle as well — things that weren’t as hesitant over unprovoked attacks against humans. Unnatural animals, like normal beasts somehow twisted out of true and endowed with almost-human intelligence. Creatures that seemed able to somehow change their shape. And things that the few remaining Sumatrans called zombies — not the magically-animated dead out of legend, Eichiro had stressed, just something that reminded superstitious natives of those monsters. (That’s what they’re not, Nikki had noted, but he’s not saying anything about what they are.) These weird creatures were thought to prowl at night, the facility director had explained, and reportedly attacked solitary individuals who wandered the jungles.
“Security is everyone’s responsibility,” Eichiro had concluded firmly. “Our trained security forces will strive to ensure your safety, to the best of their abilities. However, without your active cooperation, they will be unable to perform their function.” He’d looked around at the attentive faces one last time. “It is my honor to work with you,” he finished. “I expect great results. Thank you.” As Eichiro had left the room, the security personnel had come forward to lead the new arrivals out and issue them their “personal defense devices.”
Nikki looked down again at the holster on her belt. This wasn’t anything like what she expected when she left America.
“Well, what did you think?”
She turned. O’Neil was a few steps behind her, his perpetual asymmetrical smile in place.
“The meeting?” He nodded. “Disturbing,” she admitted after a moment. “I …” She frowned. “I don’t know, I’d like to hear more about the … the things he was talking about, the things in the jungle.” She shook her head in frustration, trying to better order her thought. “My first impulse is just to write it all off as superstition, paranoia, overactive imaginations. But I can’t shake the feeling that …” She hesitated again, then forced herself to go on. “I can’t shake the feeling Eichiro knows more than he’s telling,” she finished. I’m being melodramatic, she told herself, foolish. She looked into O’Neil’s eyes, searching for scorn or amusement.
She stared at him. “What?” she asked dully.
“Five men dead or missing since they started building the outpost,” he explained. “I heard that from one of the security guards.”
The chill fist of fear tightened in her belly. “Industrial accidents?”
The pilot chuckled mirthlessly. “C’mon, Nikki, you know the answer to that one.”
She nodded slowly. He was right: she knew. “What happened?”
“The first three just vanished,” O’Neil told her, “like they’d just slipped off into the jungle. But who’d do that? And why? We’re fifty miles from the ocean, hundreds of miles from any other civilization worthy of the name. Apparently the only boats on the river belong to the outpost, so they couldn’t have got passage on some river-trader to bug out. Anyway, in the case of the third one they found some of his equipment later: his gun, his holster belt, and one boot. From what the guard told me, when the missing man left his boot behind, he kinda forgot to take his foot out of it first.”
Nikki gaped at the pilot, momentarily speechless.
He snorted. “Amusing, huh? This happened before they got the stockade fence up. Not surprisingly, finishing the fence got itself moved up the priority list.
“The next one went a couple of weeks later,” O’Neil went on. “Now, this one was really interesting.”
He seems to be enjoying this, in some kind of gruesome way, Nikki thought. But no, she corrected herself after a moment. He’s learned something that disturbs him, that scares him, and he’s just trying to deal with his fear. “Tell me,” she prompted.
“They’d just brought in the rule about people never leaving the compound alone,” he told her. “The workers building the labs, even the security guards had to patrol in pairs.
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