The Engines of Dawn (17 page)

"No," Eve said. "You were the last."

"Thanks for including me."

Eve Silbarton said nothing. Instead, Ben asked, "You think this might have been the same person who took out the alpha lab?"

Eve looked at him, exasperated now. "Odds are that it was."

Of the stardrive itself, it looked as if parts of it had been removed for inspection or even cleaning. But as far as Ben could tell, the prototype appeared undamaged. Nothing was cut or broken or smashed in any way.

Ben stepped closer to the hovering stardrive. "So what was done to it?"

"The calibration of the flux sequencing system was thrown off by a few degrees," Eve said. "If Cale hadn't run a systems check, we wouldn't have known it until we went to full activation of the phase array tomorrow. At such a setting, one of two things would have happened. The first would be that the drive unit itself would have been thrown across the galaxy."

"The second?" Ben asked.

"Nothing," Eve said.

"It all depends on the settings for the C-graviton separator pump," Cale Murphy said. "We think a guard on his rounds spooked our guy before he could finish his tinkering."

"But they did enough," Dr. Harlin said. "The energies the unit's going to tap into are on the order of a million joules."

Eve nodded. "When you separate C-gravitons their energies immediately open a hole into trans-space and disappear into it. The problem has always been how to trace the vector those particles take. Lord Bowden's mathematics say that these vectors, if tracked, would allow for the creation of transfer analogs between two sets of real-space and trans-space coordinates. A series of phase array units, like the one here, should be able to position the C-gravitons to coordinates set up by a basic navigation program. At least, that's the theory."

"So what were the settings?" Ben asked.

"That's what we can't figure out," Dr. Harlin said. "The initial energy buildup was decreased in Eve's unit."

"It was adjusted
downward
?" Ben asked.

"Looks that way," Dr. Harlin said.

Ben thought about this. "Maybe this guy doesn't want to be transported to the other side of the galaxy with us."

Ben knew that Eve's stardrive, so completely unlike the Onesci Engines, would allow for a ship to reposition itself in space by shifting from one set of coordinates to another instantly. Eve's work was based on the late-twenty-first-century theories of Eu-ropa's first president, Michael Bowden. Lord Bowden had always maintained that the Onesci Engines wasted extraordinary amounts of energy that could be used to help the C-graviton pump create and maintain the coordinates in trans-space. Eve's stardrive, theoretically, could do just that.

"This doesn't make any sense," Ben said. "They had to have known you would be running checks on the system … unless they just wanted to slow you down."

"If that's what they tried to do," Eve said, "it worked. We're going to take the whole engine apart, check each component, recalibrate everything."

One of the older professors said, "What if our 'burglar' comes back to finish his work?"

Eve nodded. "We'll have to double up on cameras and sensors. Put them in places they'll never suspect."

"Yet," Ben, said, "last week, someone got into the alpha lab and none of our sensors or video cameras caught it until the disassembler had already gone off. They obviously have a way around our security system."

"You make it sound as if 'they' aren't human," Dr. Murphy said.

"If the shoe fits," Ben said. "And you guys actually thought that
I
had lowered the calibration settings on Eve's machine?" he asked.

"We had to consider all of our options," Cale Murphy said. "It all came down to you."

"Perhaps," Ben said, peering at the aborted mischief, "you haven't run out of as many options as you think."

Perhaps, Ben thought, it was time to confront the Enamorati directly.

And perhaps an Auditor or two…

20

By the time the archaeology team had prepared itself to step outside, the gondola's biohazard scanners had detected nothing hostile to humans, or at least nothing their AllPox implants couldn't handle. Still, there was nothing in the animal kingdom nearby sizable enough to come their way looking for lunch.

Everyone was a bit jittery, including Julia. This could have been the simple anxieties most explorers feel upon setting foot on new territory. After all, the ports of call on the Eos University circuit were already much explored.
This
was the real thing, and it had no youth hostels, no beach resorts, no amply provisioned way stations. They were on their own.

The ground beneath their gondola was covered by a rugged, ground-clutching ivylike grass similar to that found on a number of worlds. The place also had trees, or life-forms similar to trees. They were hundreds of feet tall, taller than any known tree species. But there were no birds or flying reptiles or anything that flew. Young Bobby Gessner was at the windows the entire two hours it took to run the biohazard scans, and he gave everyone constant reports on what he saw or didn't see.

Dr. Holcombe was given the honor of being the first human to set foot on Kiilmist 5. He was followed by Julia and Marji Koczan, the next-ranking humans. The rest of the students followed, with Bobby Gessner volunteering to bring up the rear. This was because he was guiding the field data kit, a hovering platform that contained their heavier equipment and larger instruments. It floated a foot off the ground, using a triad of antigravity plates.

Once the students left the gondola, the deadman set his anti-gravity engines to a moderate idle, elevating the small craft to an altitude of one hundred feet, both to monitor weather conditions and to stay in touch with Eos above. The plan Holcombe had devised was for the group to reconnoiter the best place to make base camp, then mark the position with a transponder. If their deadman couldn't find them, then the other gondolas could.

Holcombe scanned the horizon. He wore a pith helmet with UV-screening sunglasses. Julia, standing beside him, brought up her binoculars. The whole class gathered around, admiring the expansive green fields and the gigantic "trees" beyond.

"This area looks like it had been cleared for agriculture at one time," Julia said. "Look at how flat it is."

"A very long time ago," Holcombe said. "There are sloughs here and there."

He pointed to an irregular depression at the far end of the field. "Water's gathered there and the ground's sunk. No one came back around to repair it."

The gondola had intentionally set down to the south of a gathering of ruins they had sighted from the air. It was their immediate goal. Holcombe wanted to get the lay of the land-the "suburbs"-before they actually entered the city beyond.

They moved out single-file, their personal shields aglow. The ground, covered with the broad-leafed grass, was a soft carpet for their boots and muffled most sounds they made. But hardly anyone spoke. There was too much to see, too much for their shouldercams to record, too much to be on the lookout
for
. Even though their instruments couldn't find anything large or terrible-or
small
and terrible-that didn't mean they weren't there.

"No insects," one student in the line said.

"But plant life without insects doesn't seem possible," someone else said.

"Insects evolved when flowering plants evolved," Julia said. "This planet might not have flowering plants. No flowers, no insects."

"And no spiders!" young Gessner added from the rear.

Marji Koczan adjusted her sunglasses. "It's kinda creepy. No bird sounds or insect sounds. Just the wind and the leaves."

Holcombe paused. "A lady doesn't give up her secrets easily. We've only been here a couple of hours. There's no telling what we'll find."

They came to the edge of the ivy-covered field and climbed a small ridge. Professor Holcombe paused on the top of the ridge. "This is what I wanted to see," he announced. "I spotted it as we were coming in."

At the base of the ridge was an old, beat-up road. From what Julia could tell, the road hardly seemed wide enough to hold a horse-driven cart. But it
was
an artifact, their first. The team clambered down to the road and began inspecting it, shoulder cams peering down with the same eagerness.

"This looks like badly pressed asphalt," one student said.

"It could just be old," another student suggested.

"Acid rain could do this, don't you think, Dr. Holcombe?" said another.

Holcombe nodded. "Bobby, get a sample of the road. We'll analyze it when we're back on the ship."

Young Gessner came around and bagged a sample of the stony substance of the road, then placed it into an airtight locker in the hovering field kit.

Holcombe faced them. "Okay, try to cross the road as carefully as you can. Don't disturb it too much. People long after us will be studying it for years."

The wind had picked up slightly and it bore with it an alpine coolness. It reminded Julia of the aspen meadows surrounding Hart Prairie near Flagstaff, Arizona. Her ancestors had worshipped that land. They believed that their gods roamed it when people weren't looking. But her ancestors were gone. So, too, the denizens of Kiilmist 5.

They proceeded to the ruined city.

Knowing that the planet below them was human-habitable and that it harbored the remains of a civilization set the entire university abuzz. It was probably fortunate that classes had been canceled because most of the students were spending their time glued to the giant video screens in the student commons, watching the various video feeds coming from the gondola teams below or the landsats above. They wouldn't have attended classes anyway.

The only group of people who weren't interested in the gondola teams was campus security. Campus security seemed more interested in watching Ben.

When Ben left the physics department to go to dinner, two Grays were at the far end of the hall. While he was eating, several students ran past them playing transit tag, but the Grays ignored them. Campus security didn't appear to be interested in anyone other than him.

Two more guards followed him through the student commons. And two more were in his dorm when he went back to his room, where he had planned to take his usual after-dinner nap. They did not approach him or bother him or even make eye contact. They were simply shadowing him.

Rather than take a nap, Ben decided to go for a walk, to see how far campus security would go to tail him. He left Babbitt Hall and wandered down one corridor, then another, entering one transit portal, going from the library to the media center to the student commons … and all the while a campus security guard seemed to be nearby to intercept him.

And these were the ones wearing their gray campus security uniforms. There might be an equal number of campus-security personnel wearing civilian clothes. There was no way to tell.

Outside the faculty commons, Ben paused. The only bar serving liquor was in the faculty commons. Older students frequented the place and Ben fit right in. But when he stepped inside the Zoo Club, a female campus security guard entered right behind him.

Ben got a beer and walked through the crowded bar, listening to the music from the jukebox. He finally came to stand next to the club's transit portal.

The beer had been making him sleepy, but suddenly the portal flashed and Tommy Rosales jumped out.

"Right on target!" Rosales said.

Ben clutched his heart. "You scared the shit out of me!"

"You're a hard man to find," Rosales said.

"Not to them," Ben said, pointing to guards playing darts over in a corner. "They know where I am no matter
where
I go. And those are the ones wearing uniforms. There's no telling who is in this place."

Rosales pulled Ben aside. "It might not be you they're after. Have you seen Jim today?"

"Not that I can remember. Why?"

"We can't find him. He's turned off his pager."

"Maybe he's in the field house, working off steam."

"I checked there," Rosales said. "But I don't think he wants to work off steam. That's the problem. After we got out of jail, George heard him talking about getting even with Nethercott's goons. We were hoping he was with you."

"Maybe he's back in jail," Ben said.

"If he is, he's not listed in the computer. And I called the Rights Advocacy Office. They said that campus security isn't currently holding anyone."

"Have you tried his room?" Ben said.

"We did, but he didn't answer."

"He could still be in his room, then."

"That's why we need the key he gave you."

Ben didn't like where this was going. "What's he doing in his room that's so dangerous?"

Rosales appeared uneasy and glanced around the bar to see if anyone was listening. "You're not going to like this."

"I'm counting on it," Ben said. "What's he doing?"

"Jim thinks he's figured out a way to listen in on the Ainge at their Auditor stations. The setup's in his room. If he's listening in on them and in some sort of trance state, then he's practically incommunicado."

"He's been listening in on the Auditors?" Ben asked, incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"What do you think he does all day? He's had it with the Auditors. He didn't want to tell you about it because you're in enough trouble."

Ben considered the dart-throwers. He noticed two other campus-security people-two women-sitting at the bar.

Tommy Rosales said, "Can you imagine the trouble we'd be in if they can prove we've violated the Enamorati Compact
and
tapped into the Auditor box technology? They're both sacred ground. That's why we need your key."

"And probably a couple of good lawyers," Ben said. He finished his beer and set it down on a nearby table.

"We'd better unplug that boy before he gets us all thrown in prison," Ben said.

They stepped into the transit portal and disappeared.