Hex

by Allen Steele

  “You’d written about it in your log?” D’Anguilo asked.

  She nodded, not looking at him but instead gazing up the mountainside. “It was all there, in my personal log from the Castro . By then, the starbridge had been rebuilt, and I was back in the captain’s chair. Sean had grown up, but he was still living at home while he finished school. I was on a mission for the merchant marine when he accessed my old logs through our home comp. Just curious, really, to read what his mother had been doing way back when. And that was when . . . well, that’s when he found out that I’d been lying to him.”

  Tucking her hands in her jumpsuit pockets, Andromeda stared at the ground. “I’d forgotten how much he’d loved Dean. I’d tried as hard as I could to be a good mother, but the kid had grown up without a father, and he’d done so thinking that it was only an accident that Dean had been left behind. So when he found out that I’d deliberately taken him away and never really had any intention of letting his father see him again . . .”

  “He was upset.”

  Andromeda gave him an annoyed glance. “Now there’s an understatement. He felt . . .” She stopped, searching for the right words.

  “Betrayed?” D’Anguilo said tentatively.

  “That’s one way to describe it. Infuriated is another. We had it out as soon as I returned home, and some things were said that probably shouldn’t have been, and . . .” Andromeda looked away again. “He moved out. He got a place of his own in New Brighton and stayed there until he finished school, and the next day he enlisted in the Corps of Exploration. He’s got a key to the house, of course, and sometimes he drops by, but only when he knows I’m not going to be there. I’ve sent him letters, but he’s never answered them, and when I’ve tried to apologize, he doesn’t listen.”

  “I see.” D’Anguilo was quiet for a moment. “And now the two of you are on this mission together.”

  “Not my choice, believe me. But when Ted Harker told me that I’d be escorting a Corps of Exploration survey team, I knew that he’d be aboard, and that there was nothing I could do about it.”

  “But if he . . .”

  D’Anguilo suddenly stopped. Because she wasn’t looking at him, Andromeda didn’t realize that he was staring past her. “It’s tough for both of us, yeah,” she said, still gazing at the ground. “And now that he’s gone, I’m afraid that I’ll never see him again, or tell him . . .”

  “Tell me what?” a voice behind her said.

  Her eyes widened, and for a moment Andromeda thought it was Sean who had spoken. But when she turned around to look, she saw that it wasn’t her son who was walking toward them from the nearby grove but Zeus Brandt.

  For several heartbeats, Andromeda was unable to breathe, let alone speak. His EVA suit was gone, and he wore only his jumpsuit, but Montero’s chief petty officer appeared to be unhurt. Indeed, there was a wide smile across his face as he strolled out from under the apple trees.

  “Hi, skipper,” he said. “Did you really think you’d never see me again?”

  Behind her, D’Anguilo brayed laughter, but Andromeda was too astonished to mind. “I . . . I . . .” she began, then swallowed hard as she tried to collect herself. “I wasn’t talking about you, but . . . yes, as a matter of fact, I did. Where the hell have you been?”

  “It’s a long story.” A grin and a casual shrug, then Zeus held up a hand before she could go on. “I’ll tell you everything, but first, there’s a message I’ve got to give you.”

  For the first time, Andromeda noticed that he had a small paper scroll in his other hand. “What’s that?” she asked as he held it out for her.

  “Like I said, it’s a message. The danui told me to deliver it to you . . .”

  “The danui?” The captain’s mouth fell open. “You’ve met them?”

  “Yeah . . . well, sort of.” Zeus held the scroll out to her. “Anyway, here it is.”

  There were a dozen things she wanted to know, but Zeus seemed insistent that she first take the scroll. It appeared to be made of some brittle parchment, like old hemp paper, and it was tied together by a slender blue ribbon.

  She untied the ribbon and unrolled the scroll, and for a moment she thought this was all a joke; the paper was blank. Then, as she watched, words materialized upon the scroll:

  To Captain Andromeda Carson of the CFSS Montero—

  When you are ready to have your questions answered, please board the transportation network and enter the following habitat identification:

  Prepare for a long journey.

  We are waiting for you.

  PART FOUR

  BIG SMART OBJECT

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  NIGHT CAME AS A SLOW DIMMING OF THE SUN. HD 76700 didn’t move from its position in the sky; instead, the biopod’s transparent ceiling gradually polarized over the course of a few hours until it was completely opaque, leaving the cylindrical world in darkness. No stars, no moon: only a jet-black expanse.

  By then, the Montero’s crew had set up camp near the bottom of the escalator, the lamps they’d brought from the ship casting a luminescent circle around the tents. Standing just outside the tent ring, Andromeda realized that the campsite was the only source of light in the valley. But while the biopod was dark, it was anything but silent: the chirp of grasshoarders in the underbrush, the harsh cries of swoops, even the distant growl of a creek cat. When Rolf had come back from digging a latrine pit, he’d reported having seen a pair of glidemunks playing in the upper branches of a judas tree not far from the creek.

  Apparently the danui hadn’t only imported some of Coyote’s flora and fauna but had also gone so far as to make sure that the habitat had an identical twenty-seven-hour day-night cycle. Which made sense; the natural patterns of its creatures and plants would be severely upset if they lacked a nighttime, particularly the nocturnal species. But Andromeda still hadn’t heard any boids, which lent credence to D’Anguilo’s theory that the danui wouldn’t have brought any animals against which an unarmed human would have been defenseless.

  Andromeda glanced at her watch—3:39 P.M., the middle of the afternoon . . . but that was according to the ship’s chronometer, which was set to the hour at Coyote’s meridian. She’d have to reset her watch so that it accurately reflected local time. For the moment, more important matters demanded her attention.

  Melpomene had set up the portable stove in the center of the campsite. She sat before it on a folding stool, stirring the pot of lamb stew she’d prepared with water Zeus had fetched from the creek. The chief petty officer himself was eagerly waiting for the evening meal; bowl and spoon in hand, he impatiently watched as the helmsman moved the soup ladle around the steaming pot. Apparently his disappearance had done nothing to abate his appetite.

  Mel looked up as Andromeda reentered the camp. “Dinner’s about ready, skipper. Grab your eatin’ irons and come get some chow.”

  “Be delighted to . . . Thanks.” Bowls, utensils, and cups were stacked atop one of the supply boxes. Andromeda picked up a bowl and a spoon but decided to pass on the coffee even though a fresh-brewed pot stood upon a nearby hot plate; it would only keep her awake longer than she wanted. She found herself wishing she’d asked Jason to fetch her liquor flask from her quarters. Probably just as well; it wouldn’t do her crew any good for them to see their captain having a snort at a time when they were still unsure about where they were or what lay before them.

  Sitting cross-legged between Jason and Rolf, Andromeda handed her bowl to Melpomene, who gave it back filled with stew. For something that had been freeze-dried who-knew how long ago, it wasn’t bad; Rolf had used a test kit to check the creek water before he allowed Mel to cook with it, and he’d proclaimed it to be as pure and fresh as if from a mountain spring. Andromeda let everyone eat in peace; they made small talk—like the odd way night fell there or how the glidemunks Rolf had seen behaved just like the ones back home. When they were done, she placed her bowl on the ground beside her and cleared her throat.

&nbs
p; “All right, now that we’ve had a bite to eat, let’s get back to business.” Andromeda looked over at Zeus. “You’ve already told Tom and me how you got here, but I don’t think the others have heard it yet . . . or at least not the whole story. So you might want to take it from the beginning.”

  “Sure, skipper.” Zeus wiped his bearded mouth with the back of his sleeve and grinned at Melpomene. “Thanks, sweetheart. That hit the spot.” Mel smiled and nodded, and Zeus looked at Andromeda again. “Not much to tell, really, but . . .”

  “Indulge us.” Jason peered at him. “Start at the place where we thought you were dead.”

  “You mean when the cables grabbed my pod and hauled it into a hole in the wall?” Zeus gazed back at the first officer. “Believe me, I thought I was dead, too . . . or soon would be. And I don’t know what happened to the comlink except that they did a fine job of jamming my signal.”

  He absently scratched at his beard. “Anyway, I was pulled through a hatch into a . . . I guess it was an airlock, because as soon as the hatch sealed, the gravity field kicked in, and the room began to pressurize. The cables released the pod and retracted into the walls, and I was left alone. After a couple of minutes, I decided to take a chance and get out of the pod.”

  “That was taking a chance,” Andromeda said. “If I’d been you, I would’ve stayed put and tried to contact the ship.”

  “That was my first thought, too. But I was getting nothing over the com except static, so . . .” Zeus shrugged. “Except for a wallscreen and a door, the place was empty. The pod sensors told me that it had an oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere, so there wasn’t much point in staying buttoned up. So I climbed out, took off my helmet, and waited to see what happened next.”

  He put his bowl down and stretched his legs. “The screen lit and some guy . . . a human, I mean, although I think he was really a sim . . . told me that it was okay to get out of my suit. I went along with that, and as soon as I did, a beam came from the walls and ran down my body. I figured it was some sort of scanner . . .”

  “It was,” Rolf said. “Same thing happened to us when we came in.”

  “Right. So I stayed still and let them check me out. When it was over, a panel opened in the wall next to the screen. I looked in and found the rolled-up paper I gave the captain.”

  Andromeda had left the scroll in her tent. The others had seen it already, along with the cryptic message that had appeared on it. “And you were told to bring it to me?”

  “Yeah . . . but not by the guy on the screen. It was blank when I unrolled it, but then words appeared on it . . . ‘Give this to Captain Andromeda Carson when you find her.’ ”

  Andromeda’s eyes widened. “You mean it changed messages?”

  “Uh-huh. Skipper, I was as surprised as you were when you opened it and found something different. I don’t know how it did that, but . . .”

  “Electrophoretic print,” Rolf said. “Looks like normal paper, but it’s actually a comp that changes display on command.” An uninterested shrug. “Nothing new there.”

  “Maybe not,” Andromeda said, “but how did they know it was time to deliver a message meant for me?”

  “Perhaps it’s linked to a communication network,” Rolf said.

  Andromeda looked at him sharply. “You mean to say that it heard me?”

  The chief engineer slowly nodded. “Either that, or it was triggered by your touch. Your fingerprints . . . maybe even your DNA. They wouldn’t have been any harder to acquire than anything else here.” Seeing the look on her face, his mouth tightened. “Anyway, you might want to be careful what you say when you handle it. Someone may be listening.”

  The thought that something in her possession might be capable of eavesdropping on them was chilling. For all they knew, they might be under constant surveillance. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Andromeda said, suddenly glad that the scroll was somewhere else just then.

  “Yeah, well . . . whatever it is, I was meant to take it with me,” Zeus said. “That much was obvious. Then the door opened, and I went down a tunnel to where I found something that looked like a subway . . .”

  “Probably the same tram station we found,” Melpomene said.

  “Maybe.” Andromeda brushed aside her comment with a wave of her hand. “Go on, Zeus. What then?”

  “Not much, really. I got on the tram, and it carried me here.”

  “You didn’t touch the control panel?”

  “No. It brought me here on its own. I got off at the next station, found the escalator, and took it down here. I didn’t have anything else to do, so I decided to walk around a bit and check out the place.” A smile and a shrug. “I wasn’t too concerned. Kinda figured it wouldn’t be long before someone else showed up, and I was right. You know the rest.”

  Andromeda didn’t respond, yet she carefully studied her chief petty officer. Zeus had always been unflappable, but he was taking his ordeal a little more calmly than she would have expected. Not for the first time, she wished that merchant marine vessels carried their own physicians as part of their crews instead of relying on autodocs and the first-aid training of its officers; she would’ve liked to have Zeus examined by someone with psychiatric training, if only to make sure that he wasn’t suffering from some sort of poststress trauma.

  On the other hand, though, perhaps she should simply accept his story at face value. His service pod had been carried into the node, where he’d been scanned, given a message to bring to her, then transported to the biopod and released. Simple as that. And Zeus was no coward; the situation in which he’d found himself was frightening at first, but once he’d realized that he wasn’t going to be harmed, he’d accepted it and did the best he could.

  “Thank you,” she said at last. “I’m glad to see that you weren’t harmed and that you’re back with us safe and sound.” The others murmured much the same thing, and Melpomene smiled as she reached over to briefly grasp Zeus’s hand. “So let’s talk about where we stand. We’ve found this place, whatever it’s called . . .”

  “Nueva Italia,” D’Anguilo said quietly.

  “Pardon me?”

  “Just a suggestion.” For once, the astroethnicist seemed to be embarrassed by his tendency to interrupt others. When he found Andromeda waiting for him to go on, he continued. “We’re going to have to call this place something, right? To me, at least, it looks sort of like pictures I’ve seen of northern Italy, where my family is originally from. So I’ve been thinking of it as Nueva Italia . . . ‘New Italy.’ ”

  “I like ‘New Coyote’ better,” Rolf muttered.

  “No, no,” Andromeda said. “I don’t want it to get mixed up with Coyote. Nueva Italia it is . . . and let’s move on. We’ve set up base camp, and it doesn’t look like there’s anything here that might threaten us, but we’ve still got two important issues before us.” She raised one finger, then another. “The first is getting back our survey team. The second is finding out what’s going on with the danui.”

  “Skipper?” Melpomene raised a hand, and Andromeda acknowledged her with a nod. “I totally agree with you about the first, but the second . . . I don’t know. Maybe we should keep the danui at arm’s length. Every time we mess with them, something bad happens.”

  “She may be right.” Jason nodded toward the helmsman. “Whenever we’ve done something they don’t want us to do, we’ve ended up paying for it. Perhaps we should learn our lesson and just . . . I dunno. Stay away.”

  “As much as I’m inclined to agree,” Andromeda said, “I’m afraid that’s not an option. Our mission is to survey this world and find out whether it’s suitable for colonization. So far, all we know for sure is that it’s not what we thought it would be. The only way we can learn the rest is by making contact with the danui . . . and they’ve clearly invited us to do just that.”

  D’Anguilo nodded even though the others appeared reluctant. Andromeda went on. “There’s also the matter of our missing team. We haven’t heard from Sean again lat
ely, but he told me that he’d try to get the arsashi to help him find his way here. I told him that he’s on his own, and he accepts that, but all the same, he may need us. So that’s another problem.”

  She let out her breath. “So I’m thinking that we should split up. I’ll go . . . well, wherever it is the danui want me to go . . . and find out whatever it is they want to tell me.” She looked over at D’Anguilo. “Tom, I want you with me. You know more about them than anyone else, so . . .”

  “Of course, Captain.” He smiled. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Andromeda turned to Zeus. “I’d like you along, too. You’ve made contact with them, if not directly, and judging from what you’ve told us, they seemed to accept you. So they might react well to a familiar face.”

  Melpomene frowned, obviously reluctant to give up Zeus again, but the chief petty officer nodded. “Ready when you are, skipper.”

  “What about the rest of us, Captain?” Jason asked. “You want us to mind the fort?”

  “Pretty much, yes.” Andromeda noticed his sour expression. “I know that sounds boring,” she added, “but someone needs to stay behind. Sean may call again, so you’ll need to be ready to assist him . . . and if Tom, Zeus, and I get in trouble, you may have to come to our rescue. Anne will stay on the ship to facilitate communications among the three groups.”

  “She’s not going to like that,” Melpomene said. “She’s itching to see this place.”

  “There’ll be plenty of time for sightseeing later. She’s the com chief, and right now, I need her at her post.”

  “How do you know you’ll even be able to reach us?” Jason asked. “That message told you to prepare for a long journey. In case you’ve forgotten, Hex is a helluva big place.”