Ancestor's World

by T. Jackson King

  Stable radonium-one was the fuel that made the transit to metaspace possible. Without it, there would be no Stellar Velocity starships. The ore was very rare, very valuable, and very tricky to mine. If exposed to neutrons, radonium- one mutated into radonium-two--and exploded, more powerfully than any bomb.

  Mahree had studied a lot about radonium, especially when they'd had that crisis at StarBridge Academy three years ago. Rob had been sick with worry that the entire asteroid would be blown to smithereens, along with all of his students. Before the crisis had ended, they'd wound up evacuating the whole school.

  Mahree had a feeling that she'd just discovered what Bill Waterston and Project Engineer Mohapatra had argued about. And it was a big secret, an important secret. One

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  that the PE might have been willing to keep at all costs ... including ordering Bill's death.

  Krillen was looking at her, his expression puzzled. "Radonium? What substance is this?"

  "The power that fuels our Sky ships, and takes us from star to star." Mahree turned to Wozniak. "The inhibitor chemical is regularly recharged? The radiation monitors are checked frequently? They're within noncritical parameters?"

  "Yes, yes, yes!" Wozniak glared at the Drnian female technician who'd frowned at his statement. He turned to Mahree, hands held up defensively.

  "Honest! We're not fools here. The mud holds down the neutron flux of the drilled aggregate, then drops it into the holding ponds, and from here we ship it to a processing plant near the dam site. We have intensive quality controls at every step." Mahree nodded slowly, accepting the man's reassurance. She would shortly be talking to Project Engineer Mohapatra and would have her own chance to verify his statement. "Fine. Your radonium controls are state of the art. But what about this injection fracture drilling of yours? Liquid injection has been known to free up shear faces in a fault, thus setting off minor earthquakes. Couldn't the same happen here?"

  Wozniak's dismay lightened. "No, oh no. Not here. Anyway, feel that?" He pointed to the stone floor, where the ground rumbled in the fifth minor tremor that Mahree had felt since landing in the jumpjet. "This planet is constantly quaking. Part of that's due to subduction diving by the southern tectonic plate under the northern one." He grinned, his black beard spreading wide. "That's how the scalies got the Mountains of Faith in the first place! So what does one more quake matter?"

  Mahree doubted the man's glib reassurance. Drilling on fault lines could be done safely, but only with great care. What she hadn't known were the true stakes at play in Nordlund's presence on Ancestor's World. Radonium made a big, big difference. She prayed Sorrow Sector didn't know about this trade secret, then waved to Krillen. "Investigator,

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  if you are done with your questions for Crew Boss Wozniak, I need to consult with the Project Engineer. On the radonium and on this entire drilling operation. This is now a CLS matter, not just a Na-Dina issue."

  Krillen eyed the upset crew boss. "Driller Wozniak, I do hope you will hire a knowledgeable female to guide you in your explorations of Father Earth.

  Otherwise, the Lake of Stars might cover you sooner than you think."

  The man nodded nervously, then led the way out of the control shack and into the cold wind.

  Damn. Her knees had just defrosted. Hunching her shoulders, Mahree trudged after her Na-Dina colleague, wondering if she would be able to walk up the jumpjet stairs.

  Project Engineer Mohapatra welcomed Mahree into his office with a big smile, then bowed low to Krillen when the Investigator walked up to stand at her side. Unable to help themselves, they both stared at the wide window behind the man. It showed a bird's-eye view of the Great Dam.

  The dam site lay between buttresslike sandstone walls that soared a hundred eighty meters from river bottom to canyon rim, each wall flanking either end of a wide trench cut deep into the yellow stone that had once underlain the River of Life. For now, a red clay and gravel diversion dam rose just upstream of the kilometers-wide trench, holding back a small lake that had formed when the river was diverted. This smaller dam, itself three kilometers long and thirty meters high, would eventually be part of the footing of the much larger main dam.

  Until that bigger structure was built, this one served to divert the River of Life sideways into a tunnel bored into the western canyon face, from which it spurted a half- kilometer later, running back into the original riverbed. In the great space lying between the canyon wall buttresses, people were black specks and earthmovers were brown dots. There were hundreds of specks and dots. The size of the undertaking staggered her.

  Project Engineer Narasimhao S. M. Mohapatra was still

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  smiling when Mahree looked his way. He was a middle- aged Hindu with coal-black hair, intense brown eyes, and the manner of a maharajah.

  "Impressive, is it not?" he said smoothly. "I suspect that even Emperor Ashoka Vardhana would have been proud of our efforts."

  Krillen did not understand the engineer's reference. Mahree did so only because one of her in-service students on Shassiszss had been a reclamation engineer from India's Maharashtra state, who loved to talk about her land's ancient history.

  "Perhaps so." Mahree was glad that she'd made McAllister take her by the Base Camp so she could don her Interrelator's uniform. Proper attire did help in maintaining one's dignity. Not to mention that her knees had been red and chapped after her visit to the Lake of Stars.

  Mahree folded her hands in front of her, then dipped her head. "The emperor's efforts at restoring the great dam and reservoir of Girnar were indeed a wonder. But this is a different world, a different people, and I'm wondering why, again, I see drilling rigs at work." Mahree pointed through the tinted window to where a caterpillar-tracked rig crawled across the immense expanse of beige and yellow rock lying between the canyon wall buttresses. The rig resembled a beetle lost on a house floor.

  Their host's expression froze a moment; then he gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Please sit and relax, Ambassador. All your questions will be answered in due time." The man faced Krillen, touched his forehead, then his chest, and bowed respectfully. "Investigator Krillen of the clan Moon Bright, you honor me with your presence. May I offer cool water and share with you the salt of my home?"

  Krillen's ears fluttered with the sign of cautious respect. "And you, Project Engineer Mohapatra of the clan Human, are most generous in your offer.

  Water only, please."

  The engineer looked her way. "Your choice of refreshment, my dear?"

  "Iced tea with lemon, please," she replied.

  "Of course." Still standing, Mohapatra touched a record 246

  slate lying on his desk, and ordered refreshments.

  Mahree sank into a thick-cushioned chair placed just a few meters back from the PE's carved teak desk. Their host also sat, his light brown face carefully schooled to an expression of pleasant professionalism. She reminded herself that Nordlund was a legitimate if overly slick corporation, with projects on a dozen CLS worlds. Then she accepted British tea from a male aide who entered, and watched as Krillen took the proffered bowl of water.

  The bronze vessel bore Hindi script along the rim, and scenes on the side from the story of Rama and his friend Hanuman, the god of good fortune.

  She lifted her eyebrows, drawing the engineer's quick notice. "I trust you do not rely on the luck of Hanuman to ensure the safety of the dam you are building."

  Mohapatra's thin lips curved slightly. "Of course not. We are a very modem, very sophisticated construction company, Ambassador. We have earned a reputation for reliable work."

  "Is that so?" Behind her the aide exited, closing the outer door of this very luxurious office, a place sitting atop a bluff on the east side of the dam.

  Mahree decided to be direct with the Project Engineer. "I just returned from your drill-mining site near the Lake of Stars. You're mining radonium there.

  And perhaps elsewhere." Mohapatra's profe
ssional look did not waver. "Why didn't you report this to the CLS Council on Shassiszss? It's a requirement of your commercial license to conduct interworld commerce."

  Mohapatra steepled his hands on the teak desk top, his manner calm. "We have. Nordlund has, I mean. Five months ago, when our drill cores confirmed our remote sensing readings, they made a report to the CLS."

  That could not be. Mahree had been on Shassiszss at that time and such news would have made its way to her, if only because a human corporation was involved. But the engineer was not a man to be caught in an outright lie.

  "Perhaps it was sent. But I was on Shassiszss at the time, and heard nothing. Can you explain?"

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  Mohapatra's dark brown eyes glimmered, as if he knew exactly what she thought. "The presence of radonium on this planet is a commercial trade secret of great value to Nordlund. That is why we did not place a holo-tank call to the CLS Ministry concerned with off-world commerce. One of our supply ships left for Shassiszss Station, with a hand- carried copy of the report."

  The engineer looked at the clock on his desk, pursed his lips thoughtfully, then smiled coolly at her. "It is a one- month trip from here to Shassiszss, true; however, our ship had to report back home to Earth, have the report approved by management, then made its way to Shassiszss, by way of intervening stops at Hurrreeah, the Apis Worlds, and the Ri homeworld. It's sure to reach Shassiszss very soon now."

  Mahree wanted to curse, yell, and stomp her foot. She didn't. Nordlund had assigned a diplomat-engineer to Ancestor's World, one well schooled in the ways of meeting the letter of CLS law while skirting its spirit. "I do hope the report holo-cassette has reached Shassiszss by now." She looked out the window behind the man. "Now, what about the drilling rig out there, in the trench you're excavating for the dam axis. What's its purpose?"

  Krillen had been quiet during her radonium word- fencing, but now his ears declared his own curiosity. "Yes, Project Engineer, I wondered the same. Do you mine radonium from under the River of Life?"

  Mohapatra shook his head, his expression bemused. "No, not at all, Investigator." The man turned in his high- backed chair, waving at the deep trench cut into the rock bed of the river. "Actually, there are five drilling rigs doing hydrocutting in the trench. They drill holes into the basement sandstone, down which a separate crew pumps grout." The Engineer turned back around, then explained when he saw Mahree and Krillen's confusion.

  "I'm sorry. Grout is a slurry mixture of concrete and water that is pumped under pressure into the sandstone base under the dam axis. Also into the canyon wall abutments on either side of the riverbed. It's a standard engineering practice,"

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  he said casually, reacting to Krillen's agitation.

  The Na-Dina stood and whipped his long tail. "You pump liquid rock into the chambers of Father Earth? Whatever for?"

  Mohapatra paused, waiting until Krillen calmed. "My Esteemed Krillen, I'm sorry to upset you. I had assumed that because your people were so advanced in constructing stone block, concrete arch, and earthfill dams of your own that you were familiar with this technique."

  Krillen scowled. "Our females at the Temple of the River may indeed know of it. I don't. Explain this grouting."

  The Project Engineer smiled broadly, as if preparing to impress a second-year engineering student. "Why, the grout is used to seal small cracks and holes in the sandstone. Even though this rock is nicely dense, with a Mohs'

  scale hardness of three-point-five, still, all sandstone has fracture joints and places where water can penetrate." Mahree sank lower in her chair, listening to the man's glib explanation, but feeling more and more like something was being hidden from them.

  "So we pump grout into the rock, under pressure, to make a vertical grout curtain," the Hindu said. "The grout also spreads out horizontally, following along natural joints. It hardens quickly. The grouted sandstone is now protected from water 'piping' through the joints and eventually undermining the clay core of the dam. Clear?"

  Mahree thought it was clear as mud. "Fine. This grout curtain stops water from seeping around to either side of the dam, or underneath it. But, Engineer, what about faults! Did your drill cores show any underneath the dam site?" Mohapatra's expression froze for just an instant. "Of course not, Ambassador. Ultrasound echo mapping of the strata underlying the First Cataract show a seamless block of sandstone, dipping slightly downhill, in the direction of Spirit." The engineer smoothed his perfectly coiffed hair.

  "Drill cores were taken from either side of the canyon, and in the axis trench.

  We found no evidence of recent rock slippage."

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  Krillen's ears showed puzzlement. "Engineer, Father Earth shakes all the time. Thus, the earth moves. What do you mean?"

  Their host turned his attention from Mahree to the Investigator. "Krillen of the Law, you are correct. But just because the ground shakes does not mean the stone underneath the diversion dam, or the main dam trench, moves itself.

  The quaking of Father Earth usually originates some distance away, in the Mountains of Faith and very deep down, in the vicinity of where the southern tectonic plate is subducting under the mountains." The engineer smiled confidently.

  Mahree knew just enough geology to follow the man's calm explanation. "I'm sure you're correct about the earthquakes, Mr. Mohapatra. But tell me, why was this site chosen? Why not farther south, and farther up the River of Life?"

  The calm certainty in the man's face never wavered.

  "Because this is the last place where the river canyon exists. Beyond this spot, the land downstream flattens out, the canyon disappears, and there is nothing between here and Spirit but a wide valley full of extensively farmed bottomland." Mohapatra smiled again. She was getting sick of that smile.

  "You see? I promised that all your questions would be answered."

  Mahree nodded curtly. "Engineer, that bottomland you mentioned. Its fertility depends on annual flooding by the River of Life, which deposits new silt on old fields. Those fields feed twenty million Na-Dina living along the river, and over a hundred million in the delta." She paused, wishing something she said would shake the man's self- assurance. "Just like the Nile did in Egypt for four and a half millennia--until the Aswan High Dam blocked the silt-carrying waters. Won't this dam cause the same loss of fertile silt to the farms?"

  The man's chin trembled, as if he was becoming tired of her negativism.

  "Ambassador, the art of dam-building has improved in three centuries. The design of the dam's clay core, besides including the standard drain pipes for seepage

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  control, also calls for ten concrete conduits lined with magnetohydrodynamic pulsators. They will lift the silt-laden bottom-waters up and over the crest of the dam."

  "Oh." Mahree felt totally embarrassed. Standing up, she gestured to Krillen that they should leave. The Project Engineer also rose, his look solicitous.

  The engineer bowed slightly. "We are professionals, madam. The silt problem is well known, and we warned the Elders of it before the contract was signed. The MHD units will ensure the continued fertility of the Forty-Sixth Dynasty's farming heartland. Plus provide irrigation water for opening up arable depressions lying near the river. Satisfied?"

  Mahree wasn't. "What was your relationship with Pilot Mario Gonzales Ortega?"

  Fury showed briefly in Mohapatra's dark eyes. "He was my employee. Now tragically dead as a result of a fatal character flaw. Nordlund Combine is paying proper death benefits to his family. Now are you finished?"

  She blinked as if astonished. "Death benefits? You mean his income from contraband smuggling wasn't sufficient?" Mohapatra almost said something rash. Instead, his facile face showed hurt innocence. "I do hope, Ambassador, that the CLS will not try to besmirch the memory of a fine employee."

  Mahree smiled sweetly at the engineer. "Project Engineer, you have been most helpful. Investigator Krillen and I can find our way out. We will return you
r jumpjet to you when the Na-Dina Council of Elders has no further use for it. Have a pleasant day."

  Mohapatra did not reply. But his eyes said volumes.

  She turned to leave the office. Beside her, Krillen's ears showed him curious to learn why she had just insulted the Project Engineer. Mahree would explain on their way to Spirit. She was overdue on her promised call to Claire and Rob, and the FTL communicator at Bill's old embassy office would do quite nicely. She also planned a separate call to Shassiszss, and for once she wasn't concerned about industrial espionage.

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  Nordlund was playing too fast and free with their assurances, and the presence of radonium here raised the stakes for the CLS. Her office on Shassiszss should be able to dig up the original survey report of a certain Mizari exploration ship. The one that came here on the heels of Nordlund's bland announcement of an invited First Contact, their contract, and oh, by the way, we just happen to be building the biggest dam in the Known Worlds.

  Then maybe the iron face of Narasimhao S. M. Mohapatra would crack.

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  CHAPTER 14 The Champollion Key

  Mahree fidgeted in the uncomfortable chair. She was in a private office of Bill's leased embassy, in downtown Spirit near the Ministry of Dynastic Affairs. The embassy was part of the Temple of Administration. The Ministry's diplomatic office lay outside the Temple itself and just a few hundred meters from her embassy building. The Na-Dina housekeeper had let Mahree and Krillen into the building, explaining that the local Na-Dina trade representatives were downtown meeting with the Minister.

  Mahree had then had taken her leave of the Investigator. She needed privacy. Her foray into the plush, scented office of the Project Engineer had left her feeling ill at ease, even angry. Reaching for the desk's holo-tank control pad, she started to code in her call to Shassiszss, but was stopped by a red busy light. She tapped the office intercom. "Doseen, why is the FTL