Exiled to the Stars

by Zellmann, William

  Kerry nodded again. "Agreed. Tell me about the committee."

  "Well, Vlad and Lee are co-chairs, and they'll be selecting seven other members. It'll be a part-time, temporary thing, so they won't be insisting upon Council members. Actually, I suspect they'll be hijacking Susan Renko, Doctor Bono, and any other technically trained people they can find, whether Earth- or Planetborn."

  "Lee? Lee Jenson?"

  Ken nodded. "Yes. A very impressive young man. You know him, of course."

  Was that a blush on her green-tinged cheeks? "Oh. Yes, of course I know him," she replied in a too-light tone. "We were in school together."

  Well, well, Ken thought, suppressing a smile, Lee Jenson and Kerry Alves. How interesting!

  "Now that I think of it," Ken added, "It might be wise to keep the committee members' names confidential. Otherwise we'll have very busy people constantly bothered by applicants."

  Kerry grinned. "Ah, but what about Freedom of the Press? The Peoples' Right to Know? What about that intrepid investigative reporter Kerry Alves? I hear she ferrets out secrecy in government."

  Ken shook his head. "Not this time. Not if she wants any future cooperation from the Administrator's office or the Council. This is one of those times when freedom of the press requires responsibility."

  Kerry sighed, but her grin faded to a genuine smile. "Agreed. Once again, Journalistic Integrity Is Sacrificed On the Altar of Political Expediency."

  Ken shook his head, grinning. "Do you always think in capital letters?"

  "Headlines. And only when life imitates pre-Amalgamation cliches!" She rose, obviously preparing to leave.

  "Oh," Ken said suddenly. "There is one more thing. How would you like to interview Messer Sun?"

  She looked surprised. "Sun? I was very emphatically told that Messer Sun does not grant interviews, whether with bloggers or newsies."

  Ken smiled. "I think you'll find he's changed his mind. Messer Sun has decided to devote whatever life is left to him to reconciling Earthborns and Planetborns. He's already talked about submitting a letter to the editor."

  Kerry was obviously pleased. "Really? How wonderful! Our font of wisdom speaks."

  Ken's expression soured. "Please don't ridicule him, Kerry, in person or in print. The man is wise, and he is sincere."

  Kerry instantly sobered. "I know, Administrator. I think Messer Sun is one of the few Earthborns respected by both groups. And, of course, I know his granddaughter, Kana. By the way, what is his full name, anyway?"

  Ken shrugged. "Wu Sun, I think," he replied. "But I'm not really sure. I've never heard him called anything but 'Messer Sun', even by Cesar."

  Her smile was back. "Maybe I'll ask him. It'll be the scoop of the decade!"

  That went surprisingly well, Ken thought as Kerry left with an airy wave. But now I have to deal with Jorge Fuentes, and he's stubborn enough to make Kerry look easy.

  Jorge Fuentes shook his head. "I may have been the only colonist aboard the ship that was glad to be there. I have worked in holes enough for two lifetimes," he continued, "And I want nothing to do with any more!"

  Ken put on an angry expression. "You old fool! We don't want to put you in a hole with a pickaxe! You're far too old and fat for that. But we have only three Earthborns with mining experience, and you're the best qualified of the three."

  He mellowed his tone slightly. "The colony needs a supply of metals. We don't dare strip the ship any farther, and without metals, we're in big trouble. Now, Frank Wong thinks he's found some possible mine sites, but we need an expert to look them over and see if they're suitable; if the ground could support the tunneling, for instance. And you're the closest thing we have to an expert, God help us!"

  Jorge's stiffened shoulders relaxed slightly. "Huh!" he replied in a surly tone. "You'll need a lot more than 'looking them over'. What about geophysical data? Soil analysis? What about assay reports? You don't just walk around and say 'This looks like a good place'."

  Ken shook his head. "You know the kids have been out and collected five-meter cores from various sites. Frank Wong has done the soil analysis and assayed the samples. We want you to go on the follow-up expedition, to help decide whether mining will be practical.

  Jorge grimaced and frowned. "What does that kid know about soil analysis or assays?" he grumped. But Ken could see he was making progress.

  "He knows what the comp could teach him, and what the equipment he built could tell him," Ken replied. "But we need more and better information. We've located better survey tools and equipment, and they will accompany the follow-up expedition. That's why I'm wasting time with a fat old carpenter who used to be a miner."

  "I don't have to dig?" The heavyset, balding man asked suspiciously.

  Ken's tone was disgusted. "Of course not. Any digging necessary will be done by Planetborns, of course. We've got plenty of strong young bodies. What we need is that moldy old brain of yours."

  "I'm no mining engineer. I was just a shift supervisor." Jorge said doubtfully, "and I've never done site selection."

  Ken shrugged. "Neither has Frank Wong. We can only do our best with what we have. And it seems that what we have is you. So get off your fat butt and go talk to Frank. Look at his cores. Read his reports. Read the orbital survey data from the comp. But for God's sake quit standing in the way!"

  "I guess I could look at it," Jorge replied. "All right. I'll see what the comp has, and I'll look at his stuff. If I think I can help, well, I'll go along."

  Ken rose, smiling, and put out his hand. "I knew I could count on you," he said as Jorge took the hand. "Now, go see what kind of mischief the two of you can find to get into."

  Ken breathed a huge sigh of relief when the door closed behind the burly ex-miner. It had been quite a day, beginning with the Council meeting, and ending with Kerry Alves and Jorge Fuentes. He decided to take the rest of the day off, and was surprised when the clock showed how late it was.

  But he wasn't done yet. He was straightening his cluttered desk when a furious Kana Rivera, Messer Sun's granddaughter, stormed into his office.

  "How could you!" She shouted. "How could you tell Kerry Alves she could talk to Gran'ther? You had no right!"

  Ken raised his palms calmingly. "Gently, Kana. Calm down, please, and we'll discuss it."

  "I don't want to discuss it," she said, her tone becoming more normal, though still angry. "I want to know why you tried to turn that muckraker loose on my Gran'ther!"

  "I take it you turned her away," he said gently. "Have you asked your grandfather about it?"

  "Of course I sent her away," Kana replied angrily, "Gran'ther's in no condition to deal with…with…people like Kerry Alves. She's always stirring up trouble and confusing people like my mother."

  Kana's mother, Messer Sun's daughter, was largely estranged from her father, having become rather radicalized in her teens. She was a vocal Planetborn activist, and a participant in nearly all their demonstrations. Perhaps in reaction, Kana had become intensely devoted to her grandfather, and tried desperately to assuage the man's anguish at his daughter's alienation. She was also Sun's self-appointed bodyguard, and protected him furiously. Ken wasn't the only one who'd been surprised she'd found the time to fall in love with Arturo Rivera.

  "I think you'd better talk to your grandfather, Kana." Ken replied gently. "It was he who asked me to arrange for him to talk to Kerry."

  Kana looked stunned. "Gran'ther? Gran'ther asked to see that…that woman?"

  Ken nodded, and Kana's angry flush changed to an embarrassed one. "Ohmigod. I can't believe it. Gran'ther? Ohmigod. I'm sorry, Messer Terhoe." Tears welled in her eyes, and she fled as quickly as she had come.

  Ken sighed and shook his head. Yes, it was definitely time to go home.

  Chapter 20

  Fourthmonth 12, Year 24 A.L.

  Ken sighed as the expedition he'd been privately calling the 'interim' expedition finally lifted off, with its cargo of equipment, scientists, Scouts, Explorers and mi
ning 'experts'.

  Oh, it was certainly worth doing. They did desperately need new sources of metals, and if they could be found less than a day's travel from the colony, so much the better.

  But Ken wasn't overly optimistic. Their technology would require more than just iron and a few other basic metals. It wasn't his field, but he was sure that modern alloys would require small amounts of a wide variety of minerals. No, his main hopes were on the R65C ground-penetrating metals detector and the large airship in which it was mounted. The airship gave it a wide range, and the ground-penetrating beams of the low-flying drones it deployed could probe as much as ten meters below the surface to detect metal ores.

  Unfortunately, the R65C wasn't ready for use yet. They were still waiting for Lars Norstrom and Jana Matuchek to complete their certifications to handle radioactives, so they could fuel it. He was checking with the computer almost daily, following their progress. Lars was nearly finished, but he had slowed his progress to help Jana with her more intensive basic training. At their present rate of progress, the computer estimated another two weeks would be required.

  Which, of course, was two weeks before the 'interim' expedition completed its thorough scan of the nearby ridge and returned with the only people trained to operate the R65C. So, Ken viciously forced down his impatience and buried himself in work. And there was plenty of that.

  Before she'd left on the expedition, Kerry had used the newsie to trumpet Ken's "victory" in the Council, and her blog to repeatedly pressure Planetborns to "step up and fulfill the potential they'd claimed to have". As a result, hundreds of applications for advanced training had flooded the Training Committee.

  Many had argued for the previous policy of simply making the comp training available to anyone who wanted it. But the Council was concerned that they could end up with large surpluses in some occupations, and shortages in others. And, of course, they still needed farm workers, mechanics, construction workers, and the myriad of other jobs daily living required. So, after much wrangling and discussion, the Committee had begun sending offers to the best-qualified applicants for training in various fields.

  This caused great discontent among those not selected, or selected for second- or third-choice training. Ken was kept busy soothing ruffled feathers and reminding those not selected that this was merely the first round, that the numbers had been the committee's estimates of demand, and there would likely be future opportunities.

  Those selected for second- and third-choice training had to be reminded that they had listed those occupations, and that they could, of course, refuse the training, in which case another person would be selected. Essentially, they could have a second- or third-choice "bird in the hand," or decline the alternative in hopes of future selection for their first choice. Then, of course, classes had to be scheduled and work schedules juggled to accommodate them.

  Ken found little time to wonder about the success of the ongoing metals exploration. He was very busy at what he called "peeing on forest fires," dealing with the daily problems of running the colony.

  Ken looked up, surprised, as Roberto Gomez came into his office, accompanied by James Watson, his Planetborn assistant. Ken rarely saw the fishermen anymore. Most of their time was spent on the river.

  Ken greeted them, and they chatted for a few minutes. Gomez reported that Susan Renko had declared seven fish species edible by at least some Planetborns, and five edible by all of them. This was good news, but Gomez's manner was sober. He finally asked, "Well, 'Berto, what can I do for you?"

  Gomez frowned. "This is gonna sound weird, but I need access to the armory. We need a handgun. A big handgun."

  "A handgun? A slug thrower? Whatever for? Don't you have a laser?

  Roberto smiled bitterly. "Do you know what a Piranha is?"

  Ken nodded. "I think so. Little fish, big appetite, and sharp teeth. Very efficient killers."

  Roberto nodded. "Yar. Well, here, they'd be prey, not predators. Everything here make piranha look like aquarium pets. The fish we're catching are amazing. They're all vicious teeth and beaks, and fins that cut like knives, and even tentacles with suckers. We already have to use nets designed for deep sea use; they cut right through the river nets. Traps seem to be working well, if they're strong enough." He smiled grimly. "Fishing on Crashlanding will not be a lazy man's pastime, except in Gouge Lake.

  "But now we've come up against something with the size and disposition of, say, a mako shark. Looks like one, too, except for the blunt head, longer teeth, and tentacles a foot long near its mouth to grab stuff.

  "I don't think there are a lot of them; I can't imagine the river supporting very many. But the one we caught almost took Jim's leg off. It took us almost five minutes to kill it with clubs."

  "What about your lasers?"

  Gomez shook his head. "What, burn a hole in the bottom of the boat and end up in the water with those things? No, we need something with more punch than a club, but something that won't sink the boat, unless we do something stupid."

  Ken looked pensive. "I see. Do you know how to use a handgun? I'm sure your Planetborns don't."

  Gomez nodded. "When we went into the sea, we carried a short rifle for sharks, and on the river, I carried an old revolver. Of course, I never shot directly at the bottom of the boat! I was thinking of a revolver like my old one. It was an antique in .45 caliber, and could take down a full-sized cayman. Know what that is?"

  Ken frowned. "An alligator?"

  Gomez smiled. "Close, yar. I don't know the difference, either, but I guess there is one. Anyway, I need something like that big .45 I had. Lots of power, but not too much penetration. Something with the power to put one of these river monsters down. The one we killed was almost two meters long. Almost crowded us out of the boat. If you want to come down to the river, I'll show it to you. Teeth five cems long, and fins as sharp as blades. The head is the biggest part of the damned thing."

  Ken shook his head. "I'll take your word for it. But have it taken to Susan's lab. The more we learn about it, the better we can deal with it.

  "All right," he continued after a long pause. "I'm the only one authorized to enter the armory, so I'll have to accompany you. But there are some conditions. Before you even take that thing off the ship, you and Jim spend some time in the training room. I want to know that you both know about safe handling and storage, and that you can shoot it with a reasonable chance of hitting the fish, instead of each other!

  "And only you or Jim are authorized to carry the thing. If you need others to have access later, they'll have to undergo the training, too. Agreed?"

  A wide grin creased the leathery face. "Agreed."

  Busy as he was, Ken was almost surprised when the comp informed him that Lars and Jana had completed their certifications, and requested permission to begin fueling the R65C and JZE-101. He immediately ordered the comp to authorize the fueling, and called Lars to congratulate him and Jana.

  "Sorry it took so long, Ken," the big man said, "But Jana had to start at the bottom, and I figured it wouldn't do any good to have me certified, when I'm not allowed to lift the handling equipment. Better I helped her."

  Ken smiled. "No problem, Lars. But don't stop studying. You two are going to become our go-to experts on nuclear and radiation issues."

  Lars nodded. "That would be Jana. She's much smarter than I am, and better with the theoretical end."

  "Don't let him kid you," Jana cut in. "this 'old fart' can do anything from setting up those robots to building a fusactor."

  Ken smiled. "I know, Jana. So you make sure you keep him out of trouble."

  Her look turned grim. "Not an easy job, but I'll do my best." Her blinding smile suddenly flared. "But could you get him to quit pinching my bottom? It's getting sore."

  Ken rolled his eyes. "Lars, you behave yourself. You're too old for that nonsense. Okay," he continued more briskly, "the comp tells me that both of the machines we need fueled use Number 16 fuel charge bottles. It also tells m
e that we have several dozen of that size in stock. The R65C is on the largest airship, of course. Will that be a problem?"

  Lars shook his head. "No, sire. They checked with us before they installed it. It looks like the gondola of the airship was designed for the handler 'bots. I don't expect a problem."

  Ken nodded, and a sudden grin flared on his face. "Well, the JZE-101 is at Vlad Renko's home, and he thinks it's his baby. Expect him to hover around like a mother hen. You may even need a couple of husky Scouts to hold him down to keep him from interfering!"

  Lars grinned. "Oh, Vlad's no problem. I'll just have Jana smile at him, and we'll do the job before he recovers." Jana flushed and glared at Lars. But there was fondness there, as well.

  Ken laughed and shook his head. "Well, good luck!"

  Finally, a week later, the 'interim' expedition returned. After nearly a month camping out in the Explorers' tents, the group was dirty and exhausted. Ken sought out Jorge Fuentes, and found him standing with Frank Wong, shouting at the workers unloading the airship. Jorge's face was lined with weariness, but his reluctance and surliness had disappeared. He had visibly shed some of his excess weight, and his step was lighter and springier; he seemed to have shed twenty years along with those pounds. Ken asked him and Frank to visit him – after they got a shower, of course.

  Jorge blasted through Ken's office door like a tornado, Frank trailing behind. Jorge stood tall and straight, now, and his manner was all business.

  "Frank's already been working on his report," Jorge began without preamble. "But you'll be wanting a quick summary, so you can plan before the next Council meeting. All right, here goes:

  "Those assay machines the Explorers found pretty much agree with young Frank's analysis." He clapped Frank on the back with enough force to send the young Planetborn staggering. "The kid's got a brain. Anyway, all four sites show sizable deposits of iron. Site 2 would be the best for sinking a shaft. It's near a ridge, and the ground is hard and rocky. Hardpan, but it's stable.

  "But site 4 shows nickel and zinc as well as plenty of iron. It will be a little harder to sink a shaft there, but not much, and I think the extra metals make it worth the effort. So, our recommendation is going to be to establish a mine at site 4."