A Deepness in the Sky (22 page)

Victory smiled. "No need. There are plenty of people in Quartermaster who are. And the highway system would happen without any government help at all. But this way, we retain control."

"So. Big things are happening. In thirty years—by the next Dark—I wouldn't be surprised if there is worldwide air traffic, picturing telephones, maybe even rocket-borne relays that orbit the world the way the world orbits the sun. If we can avoid another war, I'm going to have the time of my life. But your idea that our entire civilization will sustain itself right through the Dark—pardon me, old Corporal, but I don't think you've worked out the numbers. To do that we'd essentially have to recreate the sun. Do you have any idea of the energy involved? I remember what it took to support our diggers after Dark during the War. We used more fuel in those operations than in all the rest of the War put together."

Ha! For once, Sherkaner Underhill didn't have a ready reply. Then he realized that Sherk was waiting for the General to speak. After a moment, Victory Smith raised a hand. "Until now everything has been very sociable, Sergeant. I know, you've learned some things that enemies might make use of—clearly you've guessed my present job."

"Yes. And congratulations, ma'am. Next to Strut Greenval, you're the best that ever had that job."

"Why...thank you, Hrunkner. But my point is that Sherkaner's idle talk has moved us to the heart of why I asked you to take a thirty-day recruitment. What you're going to hear now is explicitly Strategic Secret."

"Yes, ma'am." He hadn't expected the mission brief to sneak up on him like this. Outside, the storm roared louder. Smith was pushing along at barely twenty miles per hour even on the straightaway. During the early years of a New Sun, even overcast days were dangerously bright, but this storm was so deep that the sky had darkened down to a murky twilight. The wind picked at the auto, trying to pry it off the road. The inside of the cab was like a steam bath.

Smith waved for Sherkaner to continue. Underhill leaned back in his perch and raised his voice to be heard over the growing storm. "As it happens, I have ‘worked out the numbers.' After the War, I peddled my ideas around a number of Victory's colleagues. That nearly ruined her promotion. Those cobbers can do the numbers almost as well as you. But things have changed."

"Correction," said Smith. "Thingsmay change." The wind slid them toward a drop-off that Unnerby could barely see. Smith downshifted, forced the auto back toward the middle of the road.

"You see," continued Underhill, undistracted, "there really are power sources that could support civilization through the Dark. You said we'd have to create our own sun. That's close, even if no one knows how the sun works. But there's theoretical and practical evidence of the power of the atom."

A few minutes earlier, Unnerby would have laughed. Even now, he couldn't keep the scorn out of his voice. "Radioactivity? You're going to keep us warm with tons of refined radium?" Maybe the great secret was that the Crown's high command was readingAmazing Science.

Such incredulity rolled off Underhill's back as smoothly as ever. "There are several possibilities. If they are pursued with imagination, I have no doubt that I will have the numbers on my side by the time of the next Waning."

And the General said, "Just so you understand, Sergeant. Ido have doubts. But this is something we can't afford to overlook. Even if the scheme doesn't work, thefailure could be a weapon a thousand times deadlier than anything in the Great War."

"Deadlier than poison gas in a deepness?" Suddenly the storm outside didn't seem as dark as what Victory Smith was saying.

He realized that for an instant all her attention was upon him. "Yes, Sergeant, worse than that. Our largest cities could be destroyed in a matter of hours."

Underhill almost bounced off his perch. "Worst case! Worst case! That's all you military types ever think about. Look, Unnerby. If we work at this over the next thirty years, we'll likely have power sources that can keep buried cities—not deepnesses, but waking cities—going right through the Dark. We can keep roadways clear of ice and airsnow—and by the middle years of the Dark, they'll stay that way. Surface transport could be much easier than it is during much of the Bright Times." He waved at the hissing rain beyond the sports car's windows.

"Yeah, and I suppose air transport will be likewise simplified,"withall the air lying frozen on the ground. But Unnerby's sarcasm sounded faint even to himself.Yes, with a power source, maybe we could do it.

Unnerby's change of heart must have shown; Underhill smiled. "You do see! Fifty years from now we'll look back at these times and wonder why it wasn't obvious. The Dark is actually a more benign phase than most any other time."

"Yeah." He shivered. Some would call it sacrilege, but—"Yeah, it would be something marvelous. You haven't convinced me it can be done."

"If it can be done at all, it will be very hard," said Smith. "We have about thirty years left before the next Dark. We've got some physicists who think that—in theory—atomic power can work. But God Below, it wasn't till 58//10 that they even knew about atoms! I've sold the High Command on this; considering the investment, I'll surely be out of a job if it fizzles. But you know—sorry, Sherkaner—I rather hope it doesn't work at all."

Funny that she would support the traditional view on this.

Sherkaner: "It will be like finding a new world!"

"No! It will be like recolonizing the present one. Sherk, let's consider the ‘best case' scenario that you claim we narrow-minded military types always ignore. Let's say the scientists get things figured out. Say that in ten years, or by 60//20 at the outside, we start building atomic power plants for your hypothetical ‘cities-in-the-Dark.' Even if the rest of the world hasn't discovered atomic power on its own, this sort of construction cannot be kept secret. So even if there is no other reason for war, there will be an arms race. And it will be a lot worse than anything in the Great War."

Unnerby: "Ugh. Yes. The first to colonize the Dark would own the world."

"Yes," said Smith. "I'm not sure I'd trust the Crown to respect property in a situation like that. But Iknow the world would wake up enslaved or dead if some group like the Kindred conquered the Dark instead."

It was the sort of self-generated nightmare that had driven Unnerby out of the military. "I hope this doesn't sound disloyal, but have you considered killing this idea?" He waved ironically at Underhill. "You could think about other things, right?"

"Youhave lost the military view, haven't you? But yes, I have considered suppressing this research. Just maybe—if dear Sherkaner keeps his mouth shut—that would be enough. If no one gets an early start on this business, there's no way anybody will be ready to take over the Dark this time around. And maybe we're generations away from putting this theory into practice—that's what some of the physicists think."

"Well, I'll tell you," said Underhill, "this will be a matter of engineering soon enough. Even if we don't touch it, atomic power will be a big deal in fifteen or twenty years. Only it will be too late for power plants and sealed cities. It will be too late to conquer the Dark. All atomic power will be good for is weapons. You were talking about radium, Hrunkner. Just think what large amounts of such a substance could do as a war poison. And that's just the most obvious thing. Basically, whatever we do, civilization will be at risk. At least if we try for it all, there could be a wonderful payoff, civilization all through the Dark."

Smith waved unhappy agreement; Unnerby had the feeling that he was witnessing a much-repeated discussion. Victory Smith had bought into Underhill's scheme—and sold it to the High Command. The next thirty years were going to be even more exciting than Hrunkner Unnerby had thought.

They reached the mountain village very late in the day, the last three hours of the trip covering just twenty miles through the storm. The weather broke a couple of miles short of the little town.

Five years into the New Sun, Nigh't'Deepness was mostly rebuilt. The stone foundations had survived the initial flash and the high-speed floods. As after every Dark going back many generations, the villagers had used the armored sprouts of the forest's first growth to build the ground floors of their homes and businesses and elementary schools. Perhaps by the year 60//10 they would have better timber and would install a second floor and—at the church—perhaps a third. For now, all was low and green, the short conical logs giving the exterior walls a scaled apearance.

Underhill insisted they pass up the kerosene service station on the main road. "I know a better place," he said, and directed Smith to drive back along the old roadway.

They had rolled down the windows. The rain had stopped. A dry, almost cool wind swept over them. There was a break in the cloud cover and for a few minutes they could see sunlight on clouds. But the light was not the murky furnace of earlier in the day. The sun must be near setting. The tumbled clouds were bright with red and orange and alpha plaid—and beyond that the blue and ultra of clear sky. Brilliance splashed the street and buildings and foothills beyond. God the surrealist.

Sure enough, at the end of the gravel path was a low barn and a single kerosene pumping station. "This is the ‘better place,' Sherk?" asked Unnerby.

"Well...more interesting anyway," The other opened the door and hopped off his perch. "Let's see if this cobber remembers me." He walked back and forth by the car, getting the kinks out. After the long drive, his tremor was more pronounced than usual.

Smith and Unnerby got out, and after a moment the proprietor, a heavy-set fellow wearing a tool pannier, came out of the barn. He was followed by a pair of children.

"Fill it up, old cobber?" the fellow said.

Underhill grinned at him, not bothering to correct the misestimate of his age. "Sure thing." He followed the other over to the pump. The sky was even brighter now, blue and sunset reds shining down. "Remember me, do you? I used to come through in a big red Relmeitch, right before the Dark. You were a blacksmith then."

The other stopped, took a long stare at Underhill. "The Relmeitch I remember." His two five-year-olds danced behind him, watching the curious visitor.

"Funny how things change, isn't it?"

The properietor didn't know just what Underhill was talking about, but after a few moments the two were gossiping like old pals. Yes, the proprietor liked automobiles, clearly the wave of the future and no more blacksmithing for him. Sherkaner complimented him on some job he had done for him long ago, and said it was a shame that there was a kerosene filling station on the main road now. He bet it wasn't nearly as good at repair work as here, and had the former blacksmith considered how street advertising was being done up in Princeton these days? Smith's security pulled into the open space beyond the road, and the proprietor scarcely noticed. Funny how Underhill could get along with almost anyone, tuning down his manias to whatever the traffic would bear.

Meantime, Smith was across the road, talking to the captain who was running her security detail. She came back after Sherk had paid for the kerosene. "Damn. Lands Command says there's a worse storm due in about midnight. First time I take my own car, and all hell breaks loose." Smith sounded angry, which usually meant she was irritated with herself. They got aboard the auto. She poked at the ignition motor twice. Three times. The engine caught. "We'll bivouac here overnight." She sat for a moment, almost indecisive. Or maybe she was watching the sky to the south. "I know where there's some Crown land west of town."

• • •

Smith tooled down gravel roads, then muddy trails. Unnerby almost thought she was lost except she never hesitated or backtracked. Behind them came the security vehicles, about as inconspicuous as a parade of osprechs. The mud path petered out on a promontory overlooking the ocean. Steep slopes fell away on three sides. Someday, the forest would be tall here again, but now even the millions of armored sproutlings could not hide the naked rock of the drop-off.

Smith stopped at the dead end, and leaned back on her perch. "Sorry. I...made a wrong turn." She waved at the first of the security vehicles pulling up behind her.

Unnerby stared out at the ocean and the sky above. Sometimes wrong turnings were the best kind. "That's okay. God, what a view." The breaks in the clouds were like deep canyons. The light coming down them flared red and near-red, reflections of sunset. A billion rubies glinted in the water droplets on the foliage around them. He scrambled out the back of the auto, and walked a little way through the sprouts toward the end of the promontory. The forest mat squelched deep and wet beneath his feet. After a moment, Sherkaner followed him.

The breeze coming off the ocean was moist and cool. You didn't have to be the Met Department to know a storm was coming. He looked out over the water. They were standing less than three miles from the breakers, about as close as it was safe to be in this phase of the sun. From here you could see the turbulence and hear the grinding. Three icebergs were stranded, towering, in the surf. But there were hundreds more, stretching off to the horizon. It was the eternal battle, the fire from the New Sun against the ice of the good earth. Neither could finally win. It would be twenty years before the last of the shallows ice had surfaced and melted. By then, the sun would be waning. Even Sherkaner seemed subdued by the scene.

Victory Smith had left the auto, but instead of following them, she walked back, along the south edge of the promontory.The poor General.She can't decide if this trip is business or pleasure. Unnerby was just as happy they wouldn't get down to Lands Command in one whack.

They walked back to Smith. On this side of the promontory, the ground dropped into a little valley. On the high ground beyond there was some kind of building, perhaps a small inn. Smith was standing where the bedrock edge of the drop-off was nicked, and the slope was not deadly steep. Once, the road might have continued down into the little valley and up the other side.