Neptune Crossing (The Chaos Chronicles) (26 page)

/// I have no idea.

Fortunately, that is not my problem.

Not this time, anyway. ///

/Well, aren't you just the lucky one!/

/// I didn't mean to be critical, John.

Anyway,

there's much about your race that's admirable.

Your art and literature.

Okay, some of it stinks.

Rock and roll music, for instance.

TV.

But there's your science, such as it is— ///

/What's that supposed to mean?/

/// —your philosophies and religions,

and individual acts of sacrifice and genius.

But I'm puzzled by a certain...

suicidal instinct. ///

Bandicut scowled ineffectually. /Are you done making your point? What do you want to look at now?/

The quarx hesitated.

/// Well, I hope this doesn't upset you, but...

I need to know about your planetary defenses. ///

Bandicut nearly jerked them out of the neurolink. /Hey!/

/// Moke, I knew it would upset you.

John, I'm not planning an invasion.

I mean your defenses against natural disasters. ///

/Oh./ Bandicut glared suspiciously for a moment, then reflected that anything on the public boards was probably not very critical in terms of security, anyway. He unclenched, and they dived together into a new area of the library files.

/// This is unbelievable, ///

Charlie said after studying the civil and planetary defense systems around Earth.

/What's unbelievable?/

/// Your complacency!

You settle on floodplains,

on earthquake faults,

on mud cliffs;

you leave your skies undefended... ///

/That's not true! Not that last part, anyway./

The quarx dismissed his objections.

/// You defend yourselves against each other, yes.

But against natural calamity?

What would you do if your sun became unstable? ///

/How the hell would I know? Run around waving our hands, I suppose. What
could
we do?/

/// You'd be surprised at the solutions

some races have come up with.

But your people seem to think, on the one hand,

that they're helpless—

and on the other, that they're immortal. ///

/What's your point, Charlie?/ Bandicut demanded angrily.

/// My point is,

your vulnerability to a comet or asteroid strike.

You have no defense! ///

/Well—/ Bandicut swallowed, trying to think of a way to argue, but there was none. /There were some defense systems for a while—but I guess they were too expensive to maintain./

/// Expensive?

How much is your civilization worth? ///

/I don't know. What the hell kind of a question is that?/

Charlie brushed aside the protest.

/// Do you know what killed off the dinosaurs? ///

Of course he knew. A large asteroid strike. /But that was millions of years ago,/ he said feebly. 

/// You see?

That's exactly what I mean.

You never think it'll happen to you.

The K'loing were like that, too.

You want to know what happened to them? ///

/No./

/// They're dead now. ///

/I said I didn't want to know. Look—don't blame me for my race's failings./

/// I'm not.

But your own scientists have pointed out

that the same thing could happen to humanity.

And yet nothing is done. ///

Bandicut squirmed. /Well, I suppose most people think the danger is too remote. I'm not defending that—exactly—but anyway, most of the hazardous asteroids are tracked routinely./

Charlie was silent a moment, troubled.

/// But it is going to happen—

unless you and I stop it. ///

Bandicut swallowed. /So...you say./

/// Charlie-One said it.

And you trusted him—more than you trust me. ///

/I—/

The quarx chuckled with surprising ease.

/// That's all right.

We both know it. ///

Charlie was silent for a moment, then said softly,

/// I fear that time is growing short. ///

Bandicut suddenly shivered with fear. /Then shouldn't we—I mean—what about the translator?/

/// The translator is aware of the time, ///

Charlie said reassuringly.

/// It would find some way to let us know,

rather than let the Earth be hit

...I think. ///

/You THINK?/

/// Well, I know it plans for us

to take action.

But it has to let us know what action.

And unfortunately,

it strongly prefers to remain unseen. ///

Bandicut nearly erupted with frustration. /Why doesn't it just tell us in the open, for God's sake?/

The quarx was silent another moment.

/// Its creators desired

that its existence remain concealed

from most of those it serves.

I do not know the reason. ///

Bandicut could only stare helplessly into the silent, winking dataspace. /Oh, well, that's great...just great.../

*

When Bandicut went to the lounge that evening, looking for Julie, he was thoroughly depressed. He glanced around, and saw no sign of her, which was perhaps just as well, considering his mood. Georgia Patwell was playing EineySteiney with her husband and several other friends. He opted to remain by the bar, sipping a beer and resting his aching ankle. It occurred to him that he hadn't checked in with Cole Jackson today, either in person or on the system board, but by then he was into his second beer, and after thinking about it, he just shook his head and said screw it. So what if it cost him a demerit or two? What was the good of being on the disabled list if you had to check with the boss every time you turned around?

During a break in her game, Georgia came over to the bar to say hi. "I hear you and Julie hit it off pretty well last night," she said, with a gleam in her eye.

"Uh—yeah, until I turned into a cripple here with my ankle," he said, indicating his fastract cast to try to hide his blush.

"You'll be out of that soon, won't you? We miss you in ops." Georgia chuckled. "Especially Lonnie."

"Oh yeah, I'll bet. Lonnie must be dying for me to come back."

"Well, he hasn't had anyone to abuse lately." Georgia glanced back at the pool table where her husband was waiting. "Anyway, I hear you're getting your rover back, as soon as you're off the hit list."

"Really? No one's told me about it."

"Well, I'd check with Cole, if I were you." Georgia picked up her refilled glass. "By the way, Julie asked me to tell you she can't be here tonight—in case you were waiting for her. She said she left you a message, but wasn't sure if you'd get it before you came."

"Oh, uh—thanks." He blushed again.

"Don't mention it. She was going to come, but it turned out she had to work overtime to reconstruct some files that went
ffft-t-t
when the net crashed. She'll probably be here tomorrow, though."

Bandicut bobbed his head.

Georgia looked at him slyly. "I think she likes you. Anyway, catch you later. Come join us, if you want." With a wave, Georgia wandered back to the pool table.

Bandicut continued to bob his head for a moment, then took a swallow of beer and turned back to the bar, moving his left foot carefully.

/// I had nothing to do with Julie not coming.

I hope you realize that. ///

He rolled his eyes and didn't bother to reply.

/// Why don't you check and see if it's true. ///

/What, whether Julie's working overtime?/

/// No—about you getting your rover back. ///

/Oh./ He shrugged. /Yeah, I suppose that's a good idea./ He took another swallow.

/// Instead of sitting here making yourself miserable,

I mean. ///

/Stop making sense, will you?/ Hoisting his glass, he drained his beer. /All right—you appear to have a one-day reprieve. I hope you're getting ready for it./

/// Beg pardon? ///

/One day. And then I will have my crude, tawdry animal fling. Comprende?/

/// Oh. Uh— ///

/What?/

/// Do you really intend to...have sex?

Just like that?

I thought it took more,

I don't know, buildup... ///

/Aw, shut up about the facts and just let me keep my fantasies, will you?/ Bandicut got up and walked from the room, leaving the quarx puzzling silently in a back corner of his mind.

*

Checking the system board from a comm booth, he found two messages from Cole Jackson, asking him to check in; one message from Julie, saying exactly what Georgia had just told him; and the job assignments for survey section for the next few days. Sure enough, he was back on the roster—for northeast recon, starting the day after tomorrow. That wasn't exactly going to give him much time to heal. But he was out of the mines. And, though it didn't say so, he had presumably been exonerated by the inquiry.

Studying the assignment more closely, he noted that it covered a fair amount of territory that he had already mapped. You don't suppose, he thought, that all that recon data was kept unanalyzed, and unbacked-up, and evaporated when...

He didn't bother to complete the thought. He just shook his head, and felt the quarx flinch. /Guilty, guilty, guilty,/ he whispered.

*

He went to bed early and slept like a rock.

First thing in the morning, he went to Jackson's office. Cole wasn't in yet, so on an impulse, he sat down at a terminal and tried to pull up his job performance report. The system honked and refused to admit him. He sat for a moment, thinking.

"Bandicut! Where the hell have you been?" Cole Jackson strode into the office, carrying a large steaming cup of coffee. It reminded him that he hadn't eaten yet.

"I got...your message," he stammered, then added, "Since Switzer put me on the disabled list, I've been taking it easy, trying to rest."

"Yeah, okay," Jackson said, walking around to his desk. "There was no need to come in person. You aren't going to get that ankle healed by doing a lot of unnecessary walking, you know."

Bandicut nodded. "I see you've put me back on the job. What was the outcome of the inquiry—if you don't mind my asking?"

"I don't mind. Why should I?" Jackson rocked back in his chair, sipping his coffee. "They gave you credit for the field repair, just like I said they should."

Oh, Bandicut thought.

Jackson added, "My people know how to do their jobs. I've always said that. So what you did was something neither more nor less than expected."

Bandicut allowed a half-smile to cross his lips. Cole, if you knew...if you only knew...

"So," Jackson said, eyeing Bandicut expectantly. "Are you going to be in shape tomorrow?"

Bandicut suppressed a chuckle. "I doubt that Switzer will okay it so soon after the accident. He said five days. You know how these company quacks are—sticklers for medical detail—they like people to be at least
half
recovered before they put them back on the job."

Jackson frowned and sat forward. "Well, you take care of the recovery, and let me handle Switzer, okay? Are you well enough to come in and do some desk work?"

Bandicut shrugged. "I guess so, as long as I don't overdo it." He hesitated. "I notice we're redoing some of the original survey."

That brought a scowl from Jackson. "Why the hell you think we're in such a hurry? Maybe now they'll start listening to me when I tell them the damn datanet is vulnerable to sabotage. I've been saying that all along."

Bandicut kept a poker face. "Sabotage? You think someone...sabotaged...the system?"

Jackson's face darkened further. "Why? Do you know something about it?"

Bandicut shook his head, not trusting his voice. He felt his face going blank.

/// What are you doing?

Are you trying to draw suspicion

to yourself? ///

"No," he managed finally. "How would I know anything about it? I've been on the sick list." /Of course not. I just—/

Jackson glared. "Bandicut, why are you looking like that?"

He flushed. "Nothing. Just—the painkillers, I guess. I suppose I should go lie down or something."

"That's what I just told you. Anyway, go see Switzer and let me know what he says. We need you out there. Now, get some rest, will you?"

Bandicut rose and limped carefully from the room.

Chapter 19

Exoarch

Dr. Switzer shook his head, chuckling. "Your boss called and said he wants you back at work tomorrow. I told him that was ridiculous. What does he think this is, anyway? I couldn't possibly approve sending you out in less than three days after a broken ankle. Now, if you'd taken the nanomed treatment like I told you—"

Bandicut started to answer, but the doctor had already turned away to consult his computer screen.

"Actually," Switzer said, returning, "you might have done the right thing, refusing that particular course of treatment. We discovered another batch with faulty programming just yesterday. Instead of bringing a fever down, it gave some poor guy chickenpox." He barked a short, harsh laugh. "I don't know why they can't quality-control the stuff better than that. Here, now, let's have a look."