by Tim Dennis
"We're in!" Again a Guard leapt from his seat, composing himself enough to report coherently to Pestano. "Dead center, Sir. Probe is active and transmitting. It's on Earth's track, fifty million kilometers."
Six smiled, that was closer than she had dared hope. Nod and Morgan focused on the work of the Guards, retrieving probes and checking telemetry while Pestano walked back to join Six.
"I advise opening a small Rip here, now, and sending in another probe." Pestano watched for signs of approval on Six's face. He saw nothing. "We'll move the new probe high above their ecliptic. That location will be more defensible."
Six nodded gravely, sniffed the air and frowned. A day before, her new Mission Control had been a Drop-Bunker, a disposable barge for dropping wheat from the orbiting farms to the settlements on Legong's surface. Now it sat high above the Legong-system ecliptic, pieces of Krykowfert's new ships holding it in position and giving the Councilor a feeling of gravity. "Call my ship." She said. "I'm going back to Central Command."
17
"Where the hell are you going?" Norte watched Central Command zip by as Myles guided the ship straight at Legong. They broke into the atmosphere at a speed which unsettled even Norte, buzzed Tugot Key, rose up over the lagoon and settled on the terrace behind Myles's little mauve house. "We have to go to Central Command," Norte added. "we have to unload the equipment and-"
Myles ignored her. He climbed out of the pilothouse, casually waved to Peto, sitting at the table tinkering threateningly with his pistol, and headed straight down the stairs and out the hatch. Norte headed after him, catching him in the walled garden behind his house. "Tugot!"
"You go on, I don't mind." He said.
"What? No." She said. "We've all got to go, there are reports to file, a debrief, we've got to unload-"
"I was thinking more of a hot bath and a nice drink." Myles mimed shaking and stirring a cocktail and turned away from Norte back to the house. Peto, a piece of his pistol firmly stuffed in its holster, passed her and grabbed Myles by the shoulder.
"Norte says Central Command, we go to Central Command."
The three stood silently for a moment while Myles assessed the situation. "OK." He said. "We go to Central Command. But I need to, you know, and I could really use a change of clothes, my own clothes."
Peto looked to Norte. She sighed and dropped her shoulders, turned and headed back to the ship. Myles smiled weakly. Peto let him go.
Bento had watched the landing from her Skimmer in the Lagoon and after a brief check of her implant, turned the ship back to Caldera Proper, leaving Clark to manage the crew as she galloped a Cab up the road to Myles's house. There she climbed out. Myles's door was unlocked and the living room was empty. She called up the stairs. No answer. The kitchen too was empty, but a thick-necked man was sitting on the low wall in the back yard. She cautiously went out to confront him.
"Where's Myles?" She asked.
Peto sat on the wall with a handful of pebbles, pitching at the little green lizard with the red dots. "Who wants to know?" He asked back.
"I do."
Bento pulled at the lapel of her uniform, showing her rank. Peto looked at her brass, trying to figure out whether she outranked him. "You're Surface Infrastructure Division."
The lizard took a few tentative steps along the back wall.
"S.I. Div has authority over all troops on the surface. Check your implant." Bento walked up to Peto, still holding out her rank.
"I'm not surface troupes, I'm Special Forces."
The lizard crawled down the wall and skittered across the yard toward the door.
"You're on the surface."
Peto reflexively looked down at his feet. Her logic was infallible, but somehow Peto knew this S.I. Lieutenant couldn't possible have command over him. He saw the lizard making for the open door drew his pistol, at least the part he'd shoved into his holster. Bento wrinkled her brow and Peto slid the pistol handle back.
"What the hell is going on here?" Bento asked.
"Ask Tugot. He's in the shower." Peto turned his back on Bento, bent over for another handful of gravel, and jumped back onto the wall.
Bento went back into the kitchen and sat down to wait. Eventually Myles came down the stairs, squeaky clean.
"Oh! I didn't know you were here." He said.
"We need to talk."
Myles went into the living room, mixed a cocktail and offered it to Bento.
"It's the middle of the day." She said.
Myles shrugged, sat, and sipped.
"I know you went out with Krykowfert," she said. "it's all over Shield Guard." Myles wasn't sure what he could and couldn't say. Krykowfert hadn't given any specific instructions on that topic. Bento spoke again. "You're in over your head Myles, get out, now." Myles looked at her intensely, wondering what she knew. "Damn it Myles!"
"Krykowfert's found Eden. I've been there."
"That's what I said. Everyone knows about it."
"You said I went out with Krykowfert. Krykowfert didn't go to Eden, I did. I flew Traveler's ship."
"You can hardly drive a Cab!"
"I know."
Bento sat down. For some time rumors about Eden had been floating around, mostly among the more religious Legongs, but if one asked, Shield Guard remained curiously silent.
"What's more," Myles added, "I've been to Earth."
"Hey!" Peto walked in from the kitchen. "She's not part of the mission."
Bento again showed him her lapel. He scrunched up his face and pulled in his chin, and shaking his head in a confused wince, went back through the kitchen to the yard. Bento shifted the topic. "I don't like you getting so close to the Earthman Myles."
"What do you mean?" He asked.
"This is a Council matter, a man from another world. We don't know what he wants, what he's willing to do to get it..."
Myles put his drink down and sat up. "It took the colony over a hundred years, at near relativistic speeds, to migrate from Earth to Legong. I just crossed that distance in three seconds."
Bento still hadn't processed the fact that Myles had actually been to Earth. The rumors of Eden were already too much for her. She countered Myles's eagerness with warnings of past generations and stories of the diasporas. Earth was not a friendly place, why else would so many people have left it? A tired argument. Myles didn't buy it.
"You're jealous." Myles said.
Bento's face reddened. "I was offered a position on the Eden project. I declined."
"Oh." Myles was certain he had read jealousy in her.
Bento sat beside him. "You really went to Earth?" She asked. "What's it like?"
Myles related the interesting bits, the things the ship had let them see, and skipped over their panicked arrival and clumsy theft. Story finished, they sat quietly, Myles watching her face as Bento absorbed it all.
"I have to get the ship back to Central Command." He said.
"OK Myles. Just be careful." Bento said. " I know, you're an Advocate, you're trained in these things, but you're not Shield Guard, and you're not a pilot."
She's a pilot. Are you going to tell her about the nav devices?
Can I?
Bento headed out the door, and Myles joined Peto in the kitchen.
"Is that your girl-friend?" He asked.
Myles gave Peto a look that he would have found extremely offensive, had he not been every bit the bag-of-rocks he apeared. Myles searched his kitchen for something to feed the lizard. He had to open a fresh package of mycoprotein. Peto watched in confusion as Myles squeezed the paste onto a rock by the back step. He picked up the empty plate next to it and brought it back into the kitchen. When he stepped back outside Norte was standing at the ship's ladder.
"Get in here. Now. We gotta get off this rock."
Myles was heading to the ship anyway, but considered turning back as a protest to Norte's tone. Anticipating this, she made a quick implant link with Peto, who grabbed Myles by the arm and ran, not stopping until the
y were inside the ship.
"Let's go!"
Norte took over, shoving Myles through the pilothouse hatch. The room was already 'on,' showing images of the road leading up from the harbor. A couple Cabs accompanied by perhaps a hundred marchers. "C'mon Tugot, launch."
Myles sat transfixed by the images as Norte and Peto grew increasingly agitated.
A Parade?
I don't see any banners.
Norte calmed her tone and sent Peto away from the pilothouse hatch. "Myles, this isn't a welcome committee, it's an angry mob, and they're coming up here because the news is out."
Edenists?
The column of protesters reached the terraces. A few spread out down the rows of neat little pastel houses. The main body continued up the hill, turning onto the empty plateau that held the ship.
"Myles," Norte said, "we need to leave now." She was having trouble maintaining her calm. Peto's head kept popping in and out of the pilothouse, punctuating his heavy pacing. Myles could hear the clicking together of Peto's pistol parts.
The first dozen to reach the ship knelt in a half-circle and bent their heads together. One stood up, turned to face the others and waved his arms in very specific gestures. Myles wanted to hear what he was saying. The ship complied.
"...proof that the suffering of our ancestors did not go unnoticed. We have demonstrated our worthiness and will be rewarded. Praise to Krykowfert."
"Praise to Krykowfert." The others echoed.
"The conduit of Ancestral Wisdom." The man called.
"The conduit of Ancestral Wisdom." They answered.
"Praise to the Visitor."
"Praise to the Visitor."
Norte shook Myles by the shoulder. "Damn it Tugot! Let's go."
"What?" Myles asked. "They're just a bunch of religious fanatics. They're not a threat."
Peto leaned into the pilothouse and dragged Myles to the hatch. "Get us off the ground, now, or I'll rip your stupid head off."
Myles mocked him, "muh muh muh. Muh muh."
Norte tensed up, giving Peto an implant order. Peto went back to his pacing. The circle of worshipers had grown, but there was also a second mass of people, larger and less organized. One of the newcomers picked up a stone and threw it at the ship. Norte looked like she was going to crawl out of her skin, fidgeting and grasping her seat. The worshipers stood up and started to gather themselves into a ring around the ship.
"Go home Earther. Go home Earther." Came from the stone-throwers. A clatter of cracks sounded as a volley of rocks hit the hull.
"Oh-oh." Myles said, getting up from his seat. "Someone needs to talk to these people before it gets out of hand." The crowd surrounding the ship had grown to over two hundred people. The Stone-Throwers out-numbered the Worshipers but there were dozens more people coming up the path from City Center. Myles saw Bento, coming back in a Cab from Harry's cafe.
Norte pushed Myles back into his seat. The adrenaline burst of the trip subsided leaving the cocktail as the primary chemical acting on his brain and body. Norte stood as well as she could in the low space of the pilothouse, pounding the walls with her fists.
"Grrrr!!!!" The ship lifted. Myles looked down. The mob stopped their arguing to watch.
"We're too close," Myles mumbled. "The rings will squish them. Are we too close?"
People moved away, allowing the open space around the ship to grow. Bento walked the Cab right under the elevated ship and stood up, scanning the crowd for troublemakers. Myles followed her eye-line.
Is that Mallick?
The ship's speed increased and the blue sky turned to black, starry night, all around them streaks of white and orange light.
Meteors?
An inset image zoomed in on one of the streaks. They were Drop-Capsules. The view pulled back, following a tight formation of five Capsules down to Caldera. These ships had puffer-jets, they fired, and easily maneuvered to landing spots beside the Shuttle Station at the top of the hill behind Myles's house.
Those were better landings than what I saw on the Farm...
Where's Central Command?
A second inset image appeared, showing Central Command thousands of kilometers away, beyond the horizon, nowhere near in position to drop Drop-Capsules on Caldera. The ship anticipated Myles's next question, showing him an orbiting Destroyer. Myles wasn't an expert on close-in meteor defense systems, but it was obvious the ship had been modified. A perfectly straight Launch-Rail ran the length of the ship, extending several kilometers past either end. Where it connected to the hull a section of the Rail swung away, admitting one of a cluster of twenty or so Shuttles tethered to it by a network of trussed cages. Outboard of the cages and running parallel to the Launch Rail were two fat tubes, bright and smooth, as if newly Makered. Each had two rows of suckling Drop-Capsules. A cluster of flashes sent five more Capsules towards Caldera.
Whether it was the distance they'd put between themselves and Caldera, or the display of Council preparedness, Norte calmed, seemingly satisfied to watch with Myles.
In the main image Legong spun beneath them and Central Command grew overhead. Their ship found its hangar's open hatch, caught up to Central Command's spin and slipped in.
18
"Another damn landing?" Krykowfert dropped into a vacant Councilor's chair, leaned back and stared up at the crack in the domed ceiling. "What are you trying to achieve?"
Councilor Six glared at him, then dipped into her implant. Councilor Five sighed, motioned for Krykowfert to move. Before doing so he gripped the armrests and spun once around, stopping himself with a squeak of soft soles on the Council Chamber's cold synthetic flooring. One of the arched columns had been removed and a new one was being Makered in its place. Bismuth crystals danced across the floor as a Programmer adjusted the Maker's pattern. Krykowfert got up and walked to the end of the long oblong conference table and called up an array of images. Two dozen Drop-Capsules carrying a dozen Council Guards each had dropped onto Caldera's main island.
"Almost a hundred and fifty young men and women to work crowd control on a group of three hundred." Krykowfert said. "This is worth cutting my Shield budget?"
Six advanced on Krykowfert, slapping away his images of the Council troops on Caldera. "By employing overwhelming force we gained control of the situation without a single injury." The Councilor and the Director stood nose-to-nose.
"One S.I. Lieutenant had already achieved that before your troops had assembled." Krykowfert said. "One."
"There was a natural lull due to the distraction of the ship lifting off-"
"Yes, and one quick-thinking S.I. took advantage of that lull to de-escalate-"
"This is a new service," Councilor Five interrupted, "and we cannot expect every deployment to be perfectly executed. The costs are to be expected. Troops have to be trained."
Krykowfert broke away and opened another image, showing Councilor Six's conscripted Eden ships firing their probes through the Earth-ship's hole to Earth. "What is the point of this?"
Five urged Six to disengage and answered the question herself. "It is only natural that we should want to confirm the location of Earth."
"The Council has decided this?" Krykowfert asked. Five nodded. Krykowfert caught Six smirking. "To what end?"
"You are singly focused on the Eden Project." Five said. "As you should be. But you are one man, and the Council's responsibilities are broad and all encompassing. We need options."
Krykowfert's eyes nearly popped from their sockets. He said nothing, turning away from both Five and Six to consult with Feric via implant. When he finished Six had again shut off his images. He re-opened them.
"This is the presentation we created with the help of Traveler-"
"Who?" Five asked.
"The Earthman." Krykowfert said. "It's what they're calling him on the surface. The whole 'honored guest' thing wasn't going over so well." Krykowfert paused in case there were more questions. There wasn't. "Traveler explained the problems with Rip inst
ability. If you open one to Earth I cannot guarantee its usefulness."
"You have no problems with your Eden Rip." Five said.
"No, but we've only sent through Bell's Probes. Tiny things, really, and I've only held them open for a moment."
"If these Rips are so unstable perhaps the Eden Project should be shut down altogether." Six stated calmly.
Krykowfert fought to maintain his composure. "I've told you, I've made both theory and experiment available to your clerks. It is not the Rip itself that is the problem, it's how it's controlled."
Five headed off another confrontation by changing the subject. "The Council has your data and our clerks are studying it assiduously. But at the moment we have more pressing business. Traveler, is it? Yes? Well Traveler's ship is in the hangar and the crew is ready for debrief."
A Council Guard conducted Myles, Norte and Peto away from the ship through the personnel door into the corridor. The little anteroom outside the hangar had been enlarged and turned into a nexus. A second Guard stood at the door Myles assumed led to the rest of Central Command, but there were now two other doors. The door to the left opened into a small room where workers were arranging comfortable chairs and a refreshment cart. A faint blue hue bled out from an open doorway at the back of the room. From the door to the Guard's left led a corridor, down which their escort urged them, ushering each into their own little interrogation cell. Three hard chairs, one small table.
Myles sat in his space, listening for anything he might overhear from the other rooms. After a time Councilor Five came in, accompanied by a clerk he felt he should know, but couldn't place. He gave his story of the accidental trip to Earth, more or less exactly as it had happened. Five expressed sympathy for the stress and confusion he had felt and left him alone. He was almost asleep when Councilor Six entered. With her she brought her clerks Pestano, Nod, and Morgan. None of them particularly interesting. Six quickly revealed she would be playing Bad-Councilor to Five's Good-Councilor, making Myles even more sleepy as she absurdly hammed up the role. Fatiguing herself more than her subject, she got the same story as Councilor Five had, only repeated more often. Finally, she and her retinue left.