′Well, I′m not a cop.′ Grace studied Holle. If she was going to survive here she was going to have to work with exotic, alien creatures like this child-woman, this Holle Groundwater. ′Look, Holle. You′ve spent your life living in a functioning nation, the United States, with a continuity of institutions and laws reaching back to the pre-flood days. For me it′s been different. From the ages of five to twenty I lived in a migrant refugee community. Any law we had we worked out and applied ourselves. I′m not a cop, or a government worker. Gordo Alonzo wants me to solve this crime. Fine. But I don′t have any procedures, or rules. I′ll just get to the truth as fast as I can - or if I fail, I′ll pass it back.′
Holle nodded, interested. ′I guess it makes sense in a way. On the Ark, we′ll be a self-governing community. We′ll have to work out our own ways to resolve issues like this. Maybe Gordo is using you as an example of how that might be done.′
Grace felt faintly disgusted. ′Somebody died. You′re talking as if it is some kind of training exercise?′
Holle looked embarrassed, but then her natural defiance reasserted itself. ′We′ve been trained for this our whole lives, since I was six. How else do you expect me to react? Besides, you might find that some of us have got wider experience than you seem to think. And didn′t Gordo set this up as a kind of selection exercise for you?′
′Maybe. But haven′t decided if I′m going to play his game. So can I ask my question again? Who do you think killed Harry Smith?′
′One of three people, all of them Candidates. Zane Glemp. Venus Jenning. Matt Weiss.′
′I need something to make notes.′
′I′ll get you a handheld.′
′You said this Zane discovered the pulse unit had been tampered with. But of course he could have been bluffing, he could have done it himself. What about the others?′
′They were all close to Harry. Closer than the rest of us.′
′Close?′ There was something odd in the way Holle said that, a subtext. ′You mean sex?′
′I think so. I don′t know.′
′And all three are still up for crew selection?′
Holle shook her head. ′Not Zane. He was scrubbed a month ago. You understand we′re only a few months away from the launch target now. That′s our latest revised target - we had a lot of slips - originally we should have flown last year. Anyhow things are getting hectic.′ Holle eyed Grace, sideways. ′Suddenly lots of people are being nominated for the crew, some we′ve never heard of. Like you. But there are only eighty places. Every time somebody comes on board, somebody else has to go. Even us, the core group who have been training for this since we were children.′
′That′s tough.′
′Of course it is. Even Kelly Kenzie washed out because she had a baby, even though she′s kept up the training programme for the sake of the rest of us …You′ll meet her. The point is they′re constantly reviewing us, looking for ways to wash us out. Zane went through a psych test and was told he wasn′t emotionally stable enough. It was Harry′s recommendation that did it, actually. Zane took it hard. His father was the main initiator of the whole programme. But we had a disaster back in ′36. Jerzy was injured; he was removed from the programme and died a couple of years later. So you can see why this was tough for Zane, to be excluded from the final selection pool. He wanted to be part of his father′s legacy.′
′So this Zane could have had a motive. And the means, he worked on these pulse units.′
′Yes, but so did Matt Weiss. Zane′s more a specialist on the warp generator, actually. I′m sure Venus could have messed with the pulse unit trial if she′d wanted to, maybe with help. Any of us could; we′re all familiar with the ship′s systems. But we all have specialisms.′
′So what′s your specialism?′
′The ship′s internal systems. Life support, the power supply. Plumbing, ′ she said, with a self-deprecating grin. ′Right now I′m working on the installation of HeadSpace booths. Virtual reality systems, donated by the corporation that manufactured them. The social engineers think they′ll be a benefit in terms of morale, but they′re demanding in terms of computer resources.′
′And - what was the third name - Venus?′
′She′s a planet-finder. Looking for our destination. But as I said, we all multi-task. Any one of the three could have set the charge, I think.′
′I′ll need to speak to these three.′
′Venus and Zane are here at Alma. Matt is over at Gunnison.′
′I thought Zane was off the project.′
′He′s still working as part of the ground support team. That′s what we do, how we are. Look, if you wait here, you can get more coffee or some food, I′ll send Zane or Venus down. Then I′ll organise a drive for you down to Gunnison, if you like.′
′I appreciate your help.′
Holle grinned. ′If Gordo Alonzo is setting some kind of test for me, I′m determined to pass it.′ And she walked away, her colourful uniform bright, striding confidently.
32
Alone, Grace got herself a fresh mug of coffee, and watched the oppressive wall clock.
124 DAYS 5 HOURS 55 MINUTES 1 SECOND
124 DAYS 5 HOURS 55 MINUTES 0 SECONDS
124 DAYS 5 HOURS 54 MINUTES 59 SECONDS
She was repelled by all she had seen so far of Project Nimrod. The huge engineering, the arrogant old men like Gordo Alonzo who appeared to run it, the spoiled children like Holle Groundwater who had grown up cosseted by it, while Grace and so many others had walked and worked, starved and drowned. Her instinct was still to walk away. But Ark One appeared to be the only show in town.
A girl walked into the restaurant, black, about the same age as Holle. Another Candidate, judging by her bright uniform. She walked up to Grace and dropped a handheld computer and a pen and pad of paper on the tabletop. ′These are for you. I′m Venus Jenning. Holle said you wanted to see me. Is this about Harry?′
′I′m afraid so.′
′You want another coffee?′
Grace shook her head. The girl walked over to the dispenser to help herself.
Grace inspected the handheld and the paper. The handheld was an antique, scuffed from years of use, and heavy, milspec maybe. The paper had a peculiar smooth sheen, and was stamped with the AxysCorp cradled-Earth logo. She knew this stuff; it had been manufactured from sea shells on Ark Three.
She took the pen, and wrote down four names. Harry Smith. Zane Glemp. Venus Jenning. Matt Weiss.
Venus sat down. ′I didn′t kill him,′ she said bluntly. She faced Grace, making frank eye-contact. She struck Grace as tough, clever, motivated, but reserved. ′You got my name from Holle, did you?′
′I needed some kind of steer, to get started on this. You′re all strangers to me, you Candidates and your teachers, this weird little family of yours. Don′t blame Holle if she got it wrong.′
′I don′t blame Holle. You had to ask the question, she had to give you an answer. But she doesn′t know. She only knows what she saw from the outside. I never spoke about it to her, or anybody else.′ She grimaced. ′I was hoping the whole thing would die with Harry. Then when I found out it was murder, I realised it was all going to get opened up. So go ahead, ask me your questions.′
′Did you have sex with him?′
′Yes, I had sex with him. Look, he was my tutor, he tutored all of us from when we joined the programme. I joined at eleven, myself. I wasn′t happy. I missed my family in Utah, my home. Everybody else had been in the programme for years - Holle, Kelly Kenzie, people like that. I was an outsider.′
′Harry comforted you.′
′He counselled me. That was his job. That was all it was at first. I liked him and I trusted him. But it started to change, after a couple of years.′
′Change how?′
′He started talking to me about how the final selection would be made. You know there are only eighty places available on the Ark. There have been far more than eighty of us.
Every so often there would be a policy change, and a whole swathe of us would go.
′Harry talked to me about my colour, my race. He said that the social engineers were concerned about ethnic divisions. He said they were considering restricting the crew to all-white. Harry said this policy was being pushed by some kind of white-supremacist cabal within the project organisation, but it had logic behind it in terms of crew stability, and might carry the day. All this was confidential - he said. I had to keep it quiet. Well, you can see how that would affect my chances. But Harry said he would protect me.′
′In return for sex.′
′It wasn′t as simple as that.′ Her face showed anger, irritation. ′He was smart. I guess he′d played fish like me before. All he wanted in return, it seemed to me then, was respect. Loyalty. Affection. Love, if you want. Look, a good teacher can win all those things.′
′So when did the sex start?′
′We were on a field trip at the Monarch Pass. I was fifteen then. It had been a bad day. Back then Utah and the Denver federal government were still fighting, sporadically. Utah had just mounted a raid in the north, and the talk was all of retaliating. Look, I was frightened for my family in Salt Lake City, they weren′t Mormon but some of them were still in the war zone. And I was frightened for myself. It wasn′t just a case of getting thrown off the programme. I thought I might end up in internment, or a labour camp.′
′So Harry came to you.′
′I had a two-person tent. I shared with Cora Robles, but she was away on a night exercise. I was asleep. He unzipped my sleeping bag and got in behind me. You want the details?′
′I—′
′He made me masturbate him. I had to reach behind my back to do it.′ She shrugged. ′That was it. I cleaned up after he left. I always thought Cora suspected something. Maybe she could smell him, I wouldn′t be surprised. I couldn′t wait to get to the shower the next day. I was shocked by the whole thing. Not so much by the sex itself, I was no virgin. Everything he had done for me was compromised.′
′And it went on from there.′
′I didn′t see a choice. He did have real power over me. Frankly, I thought I was fighting for my life. And I didn′t care about the sex. He just disgusted me. We never had full sex by the way, he never penetrated me. He liked to touch, and for me to use my hands or my mouth. I thought he preferred boys, if you want the truth. He was using me the way he might a boy. Maybe it was the power he got off on.′
′So this went on until he died?′
′Hell, no. I guess it lasted a couple of years. Then I found out the truth about the social engineers′ ethnic selection policy.′
′Which is?′
′There isn′t one. Their mantra is genetic diversity, in the first generation and afterwards. They′re more likely to select a rainbow-coloured crew than a white one. I found out in fact that there was a lobby, not for a white crew, but for an entirely African-American crew, because diversity among Africans is greater than anywhere else; humanity came from Africa. So Harry lied all the way through.
′When I discovered that I kicked him in the balls, if you want to know.′ Her eyes were hard at the memory. ′I was old enough by then to know that I had as much power over him as he did over me. To work on the project is a prized berth, even if you aren′t a Candidate, and Harry didn′t want to become an eye-dee. He liked his comforts, did Harry. But he was going to get no more comfort from me. In the end, you know, he cried, and not just from the ball-kicking. He asked me why I′d stopped loving him. Maybe he really believed I loved him. Or maybe he was lying to himself. I don′t actually care what was going on in his head.′
′Did you kill Harry Smith?′
′No,′ she said bluntly. ′Why should I?′
′He abused you. He lied to you. He misused his power over you.′
′Look, there are a lot of people with too much power in this world. You must have seen that. Harry with his grubby, pathetic fumblings was no worse than many. I took control in the end. I didn′t need to kill him. He was out of my life long before he died.′ She said this flatly, quite composed. ′You can believe that or not. I couldn′t prove any of it. Is there anything else you want to ask me?′
33
Holle came to fetch Grace from the restaurant, and took her out of the building to where a small convoy of armoured vehicles was waiting. ′We do several runs a day between here and Gunnison. This is the next to go.′
Here too was Zane Glemp, a little younger than Holle and Venus, thin, pale, intense under his shock of black hair. He wasn′t in a Candidate uniform, and looked as if he wouldn′t have been right in it anyhow. He was carrying a laptop computer. Holle had suggested he ride with Grace to Gunnison, where he had work to pursue, and talk to her on the way.
So Grace found herself sitting alone with Zane in a self-drive vehicle, with thick glass windows and a closed aircon system, sandwiched between two heavy-duty trucks, each of which bristled with weapons. The vehicles set off at a brisk speed, fast enough to push Grace back in her seat, and she grabbed at a rail.
Zane had been unfolding his laptop. ′Are you OK?′
′I′m just not much used to speed. I spent most of my life walking, and the last six years on a cruise ship. A motor launch is about as much acceleration as I ever got used to.′
He brought up a map on his laptop screen. ′This is the way we′re going.′ It was a drive of maybe a hundred and fifty kilometres through mountain country, south from the Hoosier Pass through Buena Vista and Poncha Springs, and then west through Monarch to Gunnison. ′They′re mountain roads but the military have strengthened them and put in barriers and they′re pretty good. It′s safer to get through the open country fast, but you do get thrown around. Here …′ He showed her how to tighten her restraints.
′Why is it safer to go fast?′
For answer he pointed out of the window. Beyond the thick wire fence that lined the road, the country was littered with people, looking out of tents and shacks as the convoy went by. In some places they seemed to be trying to farm, with furrows scratched in the thin dirt, plots jealously guarded. Elsewhere they just sat silently by the road. Children watched blank-eyed as the vehicles passed.
′Sometimes they take pot-shots,′ Zane said. ′Or they try to block the road. There′s a system of watchtowers between Gunnison and Alma. If there′s trouble, you get heavier units coming from either terminus, or from Twin Lakes or Monarch.′
′It looks like it′s been raining people.′
′Well, Colorado′s a big country, but we ran out of room a long time ago. The sea′s not far from Gunnison itself, actually. When the wind is right you can smell it. The engineers worry about salt corrosion of the spacecraft and the gantries. But they had the same problem at Canaveral. ′ Zane′s face was oddly expressionless, as if he was not quite engaged with the world, with her. ′You′re here to ask me about Harry Smith.′
′Yes.′ Zane was evidently a more complex personality than Holle or Venus. Grace tried to work out a way in. ′He was killed by a pulse unit.′
′A mock-up, yes.′
′I′m new to all this. I don′t know what a pulse unit is.′
On his screen he produced a cutaway diagram of an object like a vase, with a round body and a flared throat, sitting in a cylindrical casing. The top was sealed by a plate. ′You understand that the Orion launch stage is propelled by a series of nuclear explosions.′
She stiffened. She hadn′t known that. What the hell was she getting into here? ′Go on.′
′The idea is to shape each explosion so that it doesn′t just blast out its energy in all directions, but channels its energy and momentum transfer to the spacecraft′s pusher plate.′ He mimed with his hands. ′Which is like a big cymbal sitting over the throat of the pulse unit, up here. So when the bomb goes off the energy is confined by the radiation case around the charge, which is a shell of uranium, then it is passed up through this channel filler of beryllium oxide in the t
hroat, and thus it′s focused onto the propellant slab - this lid of tungsten at the top. You understand this all happens in an instant, it′s all blown to atoms, but the set-up lasts just long enough to direct the bomb energy. The tungsten slab vaporises, and it′s that product that flies up and hits the pusher plate.
′The early nuclear engineers found out some interesting stuff about how objects vaporise when hit by a nuclear charge. If you have a pancake-shaped object, like this tungsten slab, you get a cigar-shaped plasma cloud. That′s because the centre vaporises first and kind of leads the way. Conversely, if you have a cigar-shaped object it turns into a pancake-shaped cloud, as the energy works its way up the length of the thing. The cigar cloud is better for us, because you get your momentum transfer focused on a small area. You can demonstrate all this with bomb design software, we dug up some of the old code from the 1950s and implemented the algorithms with modern methods. And that′s why this design—′
′It′s something like this that killed Harry Smith.′
Zane hesitated. Evidently he was happier with the technical stuff. ′Harry was supervising a few of the Candidates involved in the test. There was meant to be a controlled detonation with conventional explosives to demonstrate some of the principles. Somebody loaded in ten times the nominal charge strength. The way the explosion was shaped - it smashed the containing bunker wide open. It killed Harry, and one other man.′
′You think it was deliberate, then?′
′Oh, yes. Somebody engineered this to kill Harry; I′m sure the other guy was only caught by accident.′
′Except it wasn′t an accident.′
′No.′
′How many people on the project could have set that up?′
Zane shrugged. ′A handful of ground engineers. But none of them knew Harry well, which is the point, isn′t it? Of the Candidates, Matt Weiss or myself, without independent help. Many of the others could have done it with support, they′d know the principles.′
′Venus Jenning, perhaps.′
′She′d have needed help with the details.′
′So that leaves you and Matt.′
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