The Engines of Dawn (23 page)

"That would be this ivy-grass," Holcombe said.

Young Gessner gave the printout to Professor Holcombe, who studied it closely. He then said, "It looks as if they came here to live in three waves or migration. They clustered, then died. The ivy covered everything up for a time, then the same process was repeated."

Julia was thinking. She then said, "When Schleimann found Troy, it was part of a mound that contained at least nine layers of cities built on the same spot. When invaders came along and destroyed the city, it was abandoned. Then a new city was built by the next group who came along decades or centuries later."

"Well," young Gessner said,
"this
place wasn't abandoned. The people just died here."

"But
why
are the bodies so clustered?" Marji Koczan wanted to know.

Julia watched as Professor Holcombe pondered the sky to the south of them. Everyone's attention turned.

"Hadn't noticed that before," Holcombe said.

"Neither had I," Julia said.

Massive cloud shapes had gathered ten miles off, perhaps the prelude to an afternoon storm. If this were back home, Julia knew, rain would be less than an hour away. But Professor Holcombe seemed more concerned than usual over
this
storm.

Holcombe touched the com/pager at his belt and spoke into the chevron at his collar. "Pilot Six, are you there? Report on your status."

From the speaker in the chevron came static, but the voice of their deadman pilot broke through. "-
avionics malfunctioning … am relocating to your transponder coordinates . . . storm approaching . .
."

Julia considered the storm. The cloud formation, several thousand feet high, seemed strangely coherent for a mere afternoon storm. It was more of a giant taking shape in the sky.

"Pilot Six," Holcombe said into his com. "You will find a large earthworks mound a mile to the north of your position. A stone outcrop two hundred yards to the south of the mound will be a good place to land. We are at the mound. You will see us."

"-
acknowledged
-"

The other students had now gathered around them.

"Are we going to get caught in the rain?" one student asked.

"The gondola will be here," young Gessner said.

"Maybe," said the professor. He faced them. "Before it arrives, let's see who can figure out this big boy here."

The sun was otherwise bright above them and the wind was calm. The students only needed Holcombe's permission to tackle the mystery of the Mound.

This gave Julia an opportunity to speak privately with him. "Is there something wrong, Dr. Holcombe?"

Holcombe nodded. He was very grim. "The atmosphere here might be chemically more complex than we thought. There should have been no static with the deadman."

"Could that be bad?" she asked.

"It might affect the gondola's antigravity plates," he said. "If the atmosphere is too highly ionized, it might even affect communications with Eos."

For the first time since their landing, Julia felt a twinge of actual fear-the fear of being stranded on a world they knew nothing about.

"The deadman knows enough to avoid the storm or get word to Eos if there is the slightest hint of danger to it or to us."

"We can ride out any storm under the field kit's shield," Julia said. "We've done it before."

"Possibly."

Holcombe took his binoculars out and gave the storm to the south a closer look. He then said, "I don't like it."

"Maybe we should vacate the area," Julia said.

"Let's wait for the deadman," Holcombe said. "We can easily stay ahead of the storm if the gondola is still maneuverable." He checked his watch. "It won't take him long to get here. I think we have time."

The worried expression on the man's face belied the confidence of his words.

Some of the students were now climbing the Mound. The ivygrass offered excellent purchase. Other students were looking to see if there might be a door into the Mound.

One of these was Bobby Gessner. He drew their attention, calling out from the base of the ivy-covered Mound.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Over here, you guys! Look at this!"

The boy was wrestling back a curtain of ivy where he had found an entrance to the strange structure.

"Look what I found!" he exclaimed proudly.

Captain Cleddman closely studied the printouts Cutter Rausch had just delivered to him on the command deck. The second shift was ready to come on, but several members of the first shift had lingered behind when they saw the disturbing news about the rail-gun system.

"So there's a real possibility that every data bullet we sent has gone out damaged," the Cloudman said. "Is that right?"

"All except the first one we sent," Rausch informed him. "The mayday seems to have made it to its destination intact."

Alex Cleddman had a reputation of being one of the most steady and unflappable pilots in the Pilots' Guild. This time, however, he seemed neither steady nor unflappable.

"Son of a bitch," he snarled. He rattled the printouts before him. "Are you sure about the mayday?"

Rausch nodded. "Reasonably. Everything seems to indicate that the mayday was received and taken to the proper authorities, then answered. Minus the travel time for its return, they took twenty-eight minutes to make a decision and respond."

"But the others-"

"Apparently D.O.A., whatever their destination."

A member of the first shift, Lawton Blythe, a rugged ex-constable in the Earth Services, was a naturally suspicious man. Blythe leaned forward in his chair. "How many of the other bullets sent out were from the Enamorati? Or were they all just ours?"

"They were ours," Rausch admitted.

"So ours went out scrambled and theirs didn't?" Blythe said, nodding to himself. "That seems to point a finger at the Enamorati, if it was sabotage. You think the Enamorati are stupid enough to pull a fast one on us?'

"I'm not sure they have pulled a fast one on us," Cleddman said. "We still need an Engine. Why would they sabotage the rail-gun system? Remember, they use it to send messages too."

"Have we received any bullets from the H.C. sent to us as independently sent message packets? Packets that
weren't
responding to a bullet we sent?" Cleddman asked. "So far, no," Rausch told him frankly.

Eos's second pilot, boss of the second shift, spoke up just then. Rene Udice was a redheaded, fortyish woman, somewhat on the heavy side, but she made for a very capable pilot. She said, "What do you think would be Porter's reaction if he found out that the H.C.
doesn't
know what's going on here?"

"That's hard to say," Cleddman said. "He'd speak with the Kuulo for sure. At the very least he'd want us to fix the bullet system. And probably as soon as possible. At least, that's what I would do."

"We're taking apart the queuing system tonight," Rausch said. "Tomorrow, we'll physically inspect the rail gun. But in order to do that, we'll have to shut it down so we can get past the antimatter shield surrounding the rail itself."

"We should do that before we go off making any accusations," the second pilot said. "Maybe it wasn't sabotage."

"That's a possibility," Rausch said.

"You know," Lawton Blythe said, "if the students find out that none of their messages home have been getting through, it could get nasty. I suspect even the Ainge students would be alarmed."

Cleddman's brow furrowed in thought. "If the Enamorati
are
fighting among themselves
and
if
they
sabotaged the data-bullet system, it makes me wonder if an Engine convoy is on the way or something else altogether."

"Such as?" the second pilot asked.

"A troop ship?" Cleddman said.

"We would still need an Engine," Blythe said.

But the men and women gathered on the command deck were all thinking the same thing. Rene Udice said, "Maybe they have no intention of refitting us with an Engine. Maybe they're coming to wipe us out. They could tell the H.C. that we suffered an accident similar to what the
Annette Haven
experienced."

Lawton Blythe added, "Look what's happened so far. There has been an Engine breakdown and rumors of Enamorati unrest. And if it's true that some of our students may have seen the Engine being removed, it's possible that we've pushed the Enamorati Compact too far. From the Enamorati Home Council's point of view, Eos University could be a liability. Maybe instead of an Engine on its way, executioners are coming."

"Ix," someone mumbled.

Cleddman paced the room. "Not executioners," he said. "Maybe police."

"How do you figure that?" Lawton Blythe asked.

Cleddman said, "If the Enamorati are fighting among themselves, the Kuulo would naturally want to stabilize the situation. New personnel coming with a new Engine would do that."

"So the rebel faction, if there is one," Blythe suggested, "might be responsible for the scrambled data bullets."

"That's what I was thinking," Cleddman said.

"Yes, but," their second pilot offered, "what if the Kuulo's faction sabotaged the data-bullet system?"

Cleddman said, "That's also a possibility, but I think it's less likely than the first scenario. Remember, there are forty-five hundred human beings on board Eos and less than a hundred Enamorati. I don't think Kuumottoomaa would risk an uprising."

"So are we going to pass this information along to Porter?'" Lawton Blythe asked.

Cleddman shook his head. "For the moment, let's pretend this is a ShipCom technical matter. If we can't straighten it out before morning, I'll tell the president what's been going on. For now, mum's the word."

The meeting ended with the second shift coming on duty. All the other personnel went to their quarters, but Rausch, at Cleddman's request, remained. Cleddman had just asked him to go over the details of the data-bullet inspection process when the door to the command deck hissed open and President Porter's personal assistant, Kennedy Ridlon, entered. Two campus security officers had come with him, but they remained outside in the hallway.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Ridlon?" Cleddman asked.

Ridlon gave Cutter Rausch a quick, distasteful glance. Rausch was still in his gi.

"President Porter has convened an emergency meeting of the Governors' Council in the Colonial Suite. He asked me to escort you there personally."

"What about Mr. Rausch?" Cleddman asked, indicating the communications chief. "He's on the Governors' Council, too."

"This is an impromptu meeting, nothing official," Mr. Ridlon said. "He's only talking with a few members of the Council, the more important ones."

"What the hell am I?" Rausch asked. "Chopped liver?"

Ridlon's eyes were as gray as his tunic. "Dr. Porter only requested the captain. Sorry."

"Then let's get on with it," Cleddman said.

He returned the printouts to Rausch and said, "Get these to physics. See what Eve Silbarton has to say about them."

Rausch looked confused for a second or two, but recovered quickly. "Right," Rausch said.

The First Secretary did not seem to notice.

Cleddman followed the president's personal assistant off the command deck and into the outer corridor. But it seemed that the two campus-security men had decided, for whatever reason, to remain behind at the entrance to the command deck.

Cleddman made note of that. And didn't much like it.

28

Cleddman and the First Secretary walked to the nearest transit portal, which whisked them amidships, where the university's administrative offices were located. When they arrived they were passed, going in the opposite direction, by Lieutenant Fontenot and three of his people. They had apparently just come from the Colonial Suite. This, Cleddman found odd. The Governors' Council was composed of the heads of all departments on the ship, including campus security. Fontenot's business with Nolan Porter, then, must have already been concluded.

One entire wall of the Colonial Suite was a real-time 2D projection of the blue and white planet below them. About thirty individuals had gathered in the suite, and all of them seemed to have been waiting for the Cloudman to arrive. Cleddman found a seat closest to the door.

The mild chatter in the room ceased when Cleddman and Mr. Ridlon walked in.

President Porter was conversing with the Kuulo Kuumottoomaa at the opposite end of the room in an area set aside for the Enamorati representatives on the Council. Rather than use chairs, the Enamorati usually relied on a series of upright supports that made it easier for them to stand for long periods of time. That the Kuulo was here in the flesh, and
not
in 3D, seemed particularly ominous to Cleddman.

The next surprise came when, from a door behind the Kuulo, an Enamorati Cleddman had never seen before stepped into the room. From the whispered mutterings of the other humans in the room it was evident that some of the governors hadn't seen it before either. This Enamorati was a few inches taller than the Kuulo and had a pronounced ridge running from its nose to the back of its head. Its e-suit was an olive green and, to Cleddman, it looked an awful lot like battle armor. Its high collar, inside the transparent helmet it wore, concealed every facial feature but its eyes.

It immediately made eye contact with Cleddman, staring at him accusingly.

Cleddman made other observations in quick order. This new Enamorati notwithstanding, there were no other Enamorati present- no Avatkas, no Kaks. The Kaks, the Enamorati's navigators, were always at Council meetings, and so were their human counterparts. Yet, first-shift navigator Peggy Harris wasn't there, nor was Linda Kasperzak of second shift. Also missing was the head of the physical plant, Lewis Arendall, and, of course, Cutter Rausch. In fact,
this
Council seemed to be made up entirely of the friends of President Porter who were all from prominent Ainge families. And sitting off to his left were Auditors Nethercott and Rood. By charter, Ainge Auditors-or any religious official-were forbidden from attending Governors' Council meetings. Cleddman grasped the situation instantly. He leaned back in his chair. "I take it that this isn't
quite
the emergency Mr. Ridlon said it was."