«I hired this ship. You do as I say. We go after the gold.»
«We're partners, actually. I'm not being paid for this flight unless we strike lucky. And now we have. We've got the xenoc ship, we haven't got any gold. What does it matter to you how we get rich, as long as we do? I thought money was the whole point of this flight.»
Antonio snarled at her, and flung himself at the floor hatch, kicking off hard with his legs. His elbow caught the rim a nasty crack as he flashed through it.
«Victoria?» Marcus asked as the silence became strained. «Have the satellite arrays found any heavy metal particles yet?»
«There are definitely traces of gold and platinum, but nothing to justify a rendezvous.»
«In that case, I say we start to research the xenoc wreck properly.» He looked straight at Jorge. «How about you?»
«I think it would be prudent. You're sure we can continue to monitor the array satellites from here?»
«Yes.»
«Good. Count me in.»
«Thanks. Victoria?»
She seemed troubled by Jorge's response, even a little bewildered, but she said: «Sure.»
«Karl, you're the nearest thing we've got to a computer expert. I want you over there trying to make contact with whatever control network is still operating.»
«You got it.»
«From now on we go over in teams of four. I want sensors put up to watch the airlocks when we're not around, and I want some way of communicating with people inside. Start thinking. Wai, you and I are going to secure Lady Mac to the side of the shell. OK, let's get active, people.»
Unsurprisingly, none of the standard astronautics industry vacuum epoxies worked on the shell. Marcus and Wai wound up using tether cables wrapped round the whole of the xenoc ship to hold Lady Mac in place.
Three hours after Karl went over, he asked Marcus to join him.
Lady Mac 's main airlock tube had telescoped out of the hull to rest against the shell. There was no way it could ever be mated to the xenoc airlock rectangle, but it did allow the crew to transfer over directly without having to use exoskeleton armour and the MSV. They'd also run an optical fibre through the xenoc airlock to the interior of the ship. The hatch material closed around it forming a perfect seal, rather than slicing it in half.
Marcus found Karl just inside the airlock, sitting on the decking with several processor blocks in his lap. Eight blisters were slowly circling round him; two on the wall were stationary.
«Roman was almost right,» he datavised as soon as Marcus stepped out of the airlock. «Your exoskeletons were cleared away. But not by any butler mechanoid. Watch.» He lobbed an empty recording flek case onto the floor behind the blisters. One of them slid over to it. The green composite became soft, then liquid. The little plastic case sank through it into the blister.
«I call them cybermice,» Karl datavised. «They just scurry around keeping the place clean. You won't see the exoskeletons again, they ate them, along with anything else they don't recognize as part of the ship's structure. I imagine they haven't tried digesting us yet because we're large and active; maybe they think we're friends of the xenocs. But I wouldn't want to try sleeping over here.»
«Does this mean we won't be able to put sensors up?»
«Not for a while. I've managed to stop them digesting the communication block which the optical fibre is connected to.»
«How?»
He pointed to the two on the wall. «I shut them down.»
«Jesus, have you accessed a control network?»
«No. Schutz and I used a micro SQUID on one of the cybermice to get a more detailed scan of its electronics. Once we'd tapped the databus traffic it was just a question of running standard decryption programs. I can't tell you how these things work, but I have found some basic command routines. There's a deactivation code which you can datavise to them. I've also got a reactivation code, and some directional codes. The good news is that the xenoc program language is standardized.» He stood and held a communication block up to the ceiling. «This is the deactivation code.» A small circle of the ceiling around the block turned dark. «It's only localized, I haven't worked out how to control entire sections yet. We need to trace the circuitry to find an access port.»
«Can you turn it back on again?»
«Oh yes.» The dark section flared white again. «The codes work for the doors as well; just hold your block over the dimples.»
«Be quicker to use the dimples.»
«For now, yes.»
«I wasn't complaining, Karl. This is an excellent start. What's your next step?»
«I want to access the next level of the cybermice program architecture. That way I should be able to load recognition patterns in their memory. Once I can do that I'll enter our equipment, and they should leave it alone. But that's going to take a long time; Lady Mac isn't exactly heavily stocked with equipment for this kind of work. Of course, once I do get deeper into their management routines we should be able to learn a lot about their internal systems. From what I can make out the cybermice are built around a molecular synthesizer.» He switched on a fission knife, its ten-centimetre blade glowing a pale yellow under the ceiling's glare. It scored a dark smouldering scar in the composite.
A cybermouse immediately slipped towards the blemish. This time when the composite softened the charred granules were sucked down, and the small valley closed up.
«Exactly the same thickness and molecular structure as before,» Karl datavised. «That's why the ship's interior looks brand new, and everything's still working flawlessly after thirteen thousand years. The cybermice keep regenerating it. Just keep giving them energy and a supply of mass and there's no reason this ship won't last for eternity.»
«It's almost a von Neumann machine, isn't it?»
«Close. I expect a synthesizer this small has limits. After all, if it could reproduce anything, they would have built themselves another starship. But the principle's here, Captain. We can learn and expand on it. Think of the effect a unit like this will have on our manufacturing industry.»
Marcus was glad he was in an SII suit, it blocked any giveaway facial expressions. Replicator technology would be a true revolution, restructuring every aspect of human society, Adamist and Edenist alike. And revolutions never favoured the old.
I just came here for the money, not to destroy a way of life for eight hundred star systems.
«That's good, Karl. Where did the others go?»
«Down to the third deck. Once we solved the puzzle of the disappearing exoskeletons, they decided it was safe to start exploring again.»
«Fair enough, I'll go down and join them.»
«I cannot believe you agreed to help them,» Antonio stormed. «You of all people. You know how much the cause is depending on us.»
Jorge gave him a hollow smile. They were together in his sleeping cubicle, which made it very cramped. But it was one place on the starship he knew for certain no sensors were operational; a block he'd brought with him had made sure of that. «The cause has become dependent on your project. There's a difference.»
«What are you talking about?»
«Those detector satellites cost us a million and a half fuseodollars each; and most of that money came from sources who will require repayment no matter what the outcome of our struggle.»
«The satellites are a hell of a lot cheaper than antimatter.»
«Indeed so. But they are worthless to us unless they find pitchblende.»
«We'll find it. Victoria says there are plenty of traces. It's only a question of time before we get a big one.»
«Maybe. It was a good idea, Antonio, I'm not criticizing. Fusion bomb components are not easily obtainable to a novice political organization with limited resources. One mistake, and the intelligence agencies would wipe us out. No, old-fashioned fission was a viable alternative. Even if we couldn't process the uranium up to weapons quality, we can still use it as a lethal large-scale contaminate. As you say, we couldn't lose. Sonora would gain independence, and we would form the first government, with full access to Treasury. Everyone would be reimbursed for their individual contribution to the liberation.»
«So why are we fucking about in a pile of xenoc junk? Just back me up, Jorge, please. Calvert will leave it alone if we both pressure him.»
«Because, Antonio, this piece of so-called xenoc junk has changed the rules of the game. In fact we're not even playing the same game any more. Gravity generation, an inexhaustible power supply, molecular synthesis, and if Karl can access the control network he might even find the blueprints to build whatever stardrive they used. Are you aware of the impact such a spectrum of radical technologies will have upon the Confederation when released all together? Entire industries will collapse from obsolescence overnight. There will be an economic depression the like of which we haven't seen since before the invention of the ZTT drive. It will take decades for the human race to return to the kind of stability we enjoy today. We will be richer and stronger because of it; but the transition years, ah . . . I would not like to be a citizen in an asteroid settlement that has just blackmailed the founding company into premature independence. Who is going to loan an asteroid such as that the funds to re-equip our industrial stations, eh?»
«I . . . I hadn't thought of that.»
«Neither has the crew. Except for Calvert. Look at his face next time you talk to him, Antonio. He knows, he has reasoned it out, and he's seen the end of his captaincy and freedom. The rest of them are lost amid their dreams of exorbitant wealth.»
«So what do we do?»
Jorge clamped a hand on Antonio's shoulder. «Fate has smiled on us, Antonio. This was registered as a joint venture flight. No matter we were looking for something different. By law, we are entitled to an equal share of the xenoc technology. We are already trillionaires, my friend. When we get home we can buy Sonora asteroid; Holy Mother, we can buy the entire Lagrange cluster.»
Antonio managed a smile, which didn't quite correspond with the dew of sweat on his forehead. «OK, Jorge. Hell, you're right. We don't have to worry about anything any more. But . . .»
«Now what?»
«I know we can pay off the loan on the satellites, but what about the Crusade council? They won't like this. They might—«
«There's no cause for alarm. The council will never trouble us again. I maintain that I am right about the disaster which destroyed the xenoc ship. It didn't have an accident. That is a warship, Antonio. And you know what that means, don't you? Somewhere on board there will be weapons just as advanced and as powerful as the rest of its technology.»
It was Wai's third trip over to the xenoc ship. None of them spent more than two hours at a time inside. The gravity field made every muscle ache, walking round was like being put on a crash exercise regimen.
Schutz and Karl were still busy by the airlock, probing the circuitry of the cybermice, and decrypting more of their programming. It was probably the most promising line of research; once they could use the xenoc program language they should be able to extract any answer they wanted from the ship's controlling network. Assuming there was one. Wai was convinced there would be. The number of systems operating—life-support, power, gravity—had to mean some basic management integration system was functional.
In the meantime there was the rest of the structure to explore. She had a layout file stored in her neural nanonics, updated by the others every time they came back from an excursion. At the blunt end of the wedge there could be anything up to forty decks, if the spacing was standard. Nobody had gone down to the bottom yet. There were some areas which had no obvious entrance; presumably engineering compartments, or storage tanks. Marcus had the teams tracing the main power lines with magnetic sensors, trying to locate the generator.
Wai plodded after Roman as he followed a cable running down the centre of a corridor on the eighth deck.
«It's got so many secondary feeds it looks like a fish-bone,» he complained. They paused at a junction with five branches and he swept the block round. «This way.» He started off down one of the new corridors.
«We're heading towards stairwell five,» she told him, as the layout file scrolled through her skull.
There were more cybermice than usual on deck eight; over thirty were currently pursuing her and Roman, creating strong ripples in the composite floor and walls. Wai had noticed that the deeper she went into the ship the more of them there seemed to be. Although after her second trip she'd completely ignored them. She wasn't paying a lot of attention to the compartments leading off from the corridors, either. It wasn't that they were all the same, rather that they were all similarly empty.
They reached the stairwell, and Roman stepped inside. «It's going down,» he datavised.
«Great, that means we've got another level to climb up when we're finished.»
Not that going down these stairs was easy, she acknowledged charily. If only they could find some kind of variable gravity chute. Perhaps they'd all been positioned in the part of the ship that was destroyed.
«You know, I think Marcus might have been right about the dish being an emergency beacon,» she datavised. «I can't think of any other reason for it being built. Believe me, I've tried.»
«He always is right. It's bloody annoying, but that's why I fly with him.»
«I was against it because of the faith gap.»
«Say what?»
«The amount of faith these xenocs must have had in themselves. It's awesome. So different from humans. Think about it. Even if their homeworld is only two thousand light-years away, that's how long the message is going to take to reach there. Yet they sent it believing someone would still be around to receive it, and more, act on it. Suppose that was us; suppose the Lady Mac had an accident a thousand light-years away. Would you think there was any point in sending a lightspeed message to the Confederation, then going into zero-tau to wait for a rescue ship?»
«If their technology can last that long, then I guess their civilization can, too.»
«No, our hardware can last for a long time. It's our culture that's fragile, at least compared to theirs. I don't think the Confederation will last a thousand years.»
«The Edenists will be here, I expect. So will all the planets, physically if nothing else. Some of their societies will advance, possibly even to a state similar to the Kiint; some will revert to barbarism. But there will be somebody left to hear the message and help.»
«You're a terrible optimist.»
They arrived at the ninth deck, only to find the doorway was sealed over with composite.
«Odd,» Roman datavised. «If there's no corridor or compartment beyond, why put a doorway here at all?»
«Because this was a change made after the accident.»
«Could be. But why would they block off an interior section?»
«I've no idea. You want to keep going down?»
«Sure. I'm optimistic enough not to believe in ghosts lurking in the basement.»
«I really wish you hadn't said that.»
The tenth deck had been sealed off as well.
«My legs can take one more level,» Wai datavised. «Then I'm going back.»
There was a door on deck eleven. It was the first one in the ship to be closed.
Wai stuck her fingers in the dimple, and the door dilated. She edged over cautiously, and swept the focus of her collar sensors round. «Holy shit. We'd better fetch Marcus.»
Decks nine and ten had simply been removed to make the chamber. Standing on the floor and looking up, Marcus could actually see the outline of the stairwell doorways in the wall above him. By xenoc standards it was a cathedral. There was only one altar, right in the centre. A doughnut of some dull metallic substance, eight metres in diameter with a central aperture five metres across; the air around it was emitting a faint violet glow. It stood on five sable-black arching buttresses, four metres tall.
«The positioning must be significant,» Wai datavised. «They built it almost at the centre of the wreck. They wanted to give it as much protection as possible.»
«Agreed,» Katherine replied. «They obviously considered it important. After a ship has suffered this much damage, you don't expend resources on anything other than critical survival requirements.»
«Whatever it is,» Schutz reported, «it's using up an awful lot of power.» He was walking round it, keeping a respectful distance, wiping a sensor block over the floor as he went. «There's a power cable feeding each of those legs.»
«Is it radiating in any spectrum?» Marcus asked.
«Only that light you can see, which spills over into ultraviolet, too. Apart from that, it's inert. But the energy must be going somewhere.»
«OK.» Marcus walked up to a buttress, and switched his collar focus to scan the aperture. It was veiled by a grey haze, as if a sheet of fog had solidified across it. When he took another tentative step forward the fluid in his semicircular canals was suddenly affected by a very strange tidal force. His foot began to slip forwards and upwards. He threw himself backwards, and almost stumbled. Jorge and Karl just caught him in time.
«There's no artificial gravity underneath it,» he datavised. «But there's some kind of gravity field wrapped around it.» He paused. «No, that's not right. It pushed me.»
«Pushed?» Katherine hurried to his side. «Are you sure?»
«Yes.»
«My God.»
«What? Do you know what it is?»
«Possibly. Schutz, hang on to my arm, please.»
The cosmonik came forward and took her left arm. Katherine edged forward until she was almost under the lambent doughnut. She stretched up her right arm, holding out a sensor block, and tried to press it against the doughnut. It was as if she was trying to make two identical magnetic poles touch. The block couldn't get to within twenty centimetres of the surface, it kept slithering and sliding through the air. She held it as steady as she could, and datavised it to run an analysis of the doughnut's molecular structure.
The results made her back away.
«So?» Marcus asked.
«I'm not entirely sure it's even solid in any reference frame we understand. That surface could just be a boundary effect. There's no spectroscopic data at all, the sensor couldn't even detect an atomic structure in there, let alone valency bonds.»
«You mean it's a ring of energy?»
«Don't hold me to it, but I think that thing could be some kind of exotic matter.»
«Exotic in what sense, exactly?» Jorge asked.
«It has a negative energy density. And before you ask, that doesn't mean anti-gravity. Exotic matter only has one known use, to keep a wormhole open.»
«Jesus, that's a wormhole portal?» Marcus asked.
«It must be.»
«Any way of telling where it leads?»
«I can't give you an exact stellar coordinate; but I know where the other end has to emerge. The xenocs never called for a rescue ship, Marcus. They threaded a wormhole with exotic matter to stop it collapsing, and escaped down it. That is the entrance to a tunnel which leads right back to their homeworld.»
Schutz found Marcus in the passenger lounge in capsule C. He was floating centimetres above one of the flatchairs, with the lights down low.
The cosmonik touched his heels to a stikpad on the decking beside the lower hatch. «You really don't like being wrong, do you?»
«No, but I'm not sulking about it, either.» Marcus moulded a jaded grin. «I still think I'm right about the dish, but I don't know how the hell to prove it.»
«The wormhole portal is rather conclusive evidence.»
«Very tactful. It doesn't solve anything, actually. If they could open a wormhole straight back home, why did they build the dish? Like Katherine said, if you have an accident of that magnitude then you devote yourself completely to survival. Either they called for help, or they went home through the wormhole. They wouldn't do both.»
«Possibly it wasn't their dish, they were just here to investigate it.»
«Two ancient unknown xenoc races with FTL starship technology is pushing credibility. It also takes us back to the original problem: if the dish isn't a distress beacon, then what the hell was it built for?»
«I'm sure there will be an answer at some time.»
«I know, we're only a commercial trader's crew, with a very limited research capability. But we can still ask fundamental questions, like why have they kept the wormhole open for thirteen thousand years?»
«Because that's the way their technology works. They probably wouldn't consider it odd.»
«I'm not saying it shouldn't work for that long, I'm asking why their homeworld would bother maintaining a link to a chunk of derelict wreckage?»
«That is harder for logic to explain. The answer must lie in their psychology.»
«That's too much like a cop-out; you can't cry alien at everything you don't understand. But it does bring us to my final query. If you can open a wormhole with such accuracy across God knows how many light-years, why would you need a starship in the first place? What sort of psychology accounts for that?»
«All right, Marcus, you got me. Why?»
«I haven't got a clue. I've been reviewing all the file texts we have on wormholes, trying to find a solution which pulls all this together. And I can't do it. It's a complete paradox.»
«There's only one thing left, then, isn't there?»
Marcus turned to look at the hulking figure of the cosmonik. «What?»
«Go down the wormhole and ask them.»
«Yeah, maybe I will. Somebody has to go eventually. What does our dear Katherine have to say on that subject? Can we go inside it in our SII suits?»
«She's rigging up some sensors that she can shove through the interface. That grey sheet isn't a physical barrier. She's already pushed a length of conduit tubing through. It's some kind of pressure membrane, apparently, stops the ship's atmosphere from flooding into the wormhole.»
«Another billion-fuseodollar gadget. Jesus, this is getting too big for us, we're going to have to prioritize.» He datavised the flight computer, and issued a general order for everyone to assemble in capsule A's main lounge.
Karl was the last to arrive. The young systems engineer looked exhausted. He frowned when he caught sight of Marcus.
«I thought you were over in the xenoc ship.»
«No.»
«But you . . .» He rubbed his fingers against his temples. «Skip it.»
«Any progress?» Marcus asked.
«A little. From what I can make out, the molecular synthesizer and its governing circuitry are combined within the same crystal lattice. To give you a biological analogy, it's as though a muscle is also a brain.»
«Don't follow that one through too far,» Roman called.
Karl didn't even smile. He took a chocolate sac from the dispenser, and sucked on the nipple.
«Katherine?» Marcus said.
«I've managed to place a visual-spectrum sensor in the wormhole. There's not much light in there, only what soaks through the pressure membrane. From what we can see it's a straight tunnel. I assume the xenocs cut off the artificial gravity under the portal so they could egress it easily. What I'd like to do next is dismount a laser radar from the MSV and use that.»
«If the wormhole's threaded with exotic matter, will you get a return from it?»
«Probably not. But we should get a return from whatever is at the other end.»
«What's the point?»
Three of them began to talk at once, Katherine loudest of all. Marcus held his hand up for silence. «Listen, everybody, according to Confederation law if the appointed commander or designated controlling mechanism of a spaceship or free-flying space structure discontinues that control for one year and a day then any ownership title becomes null and void. Legally, this xenoc ship is an abandoned structure which we are entitled to file a salvage claim on.»
«There is a controlling network,» Karl said.
«It's a sub-system,» Marcus said. «The law is very clear on that point. If a starship's flight computer fails, but, say, the fusion generators keep working, their governing processors do not constitute the designated controlling mechanism. Nobody will be able to challenge our claim.»
«The xenocs might,» Wai said.
«Let's not make extra problems for ourselves. As the situation stands right now, we have title. We can't not claim the ship because the xenocs may or may not return at some time.»
Katherine rocked her head in understanding. «If we start examining the wormhole they might come back, sooner rather than later. Is that what you're worried about?»
«It's a consideration, yes. Personally, I'd rather like to meet them. But, Katherine, are you really going to learn how to build exotic matter and open a wormhole with the kind of sensor blocks we've got?»
«You know I'm not, Marcus.»
«Right. Nor are we going to find the principle behind the artificial-gravity generator, or any of the other miracles on board. What we have to do is catalogue as much as we can, and identify the areas that need researching. Once we've done that we can bring back the appropriate specialists, pay them a huge salary, and let them get on with it. Don't any of you understand yet? When we found this ship, we stopped being starship crew, and turned into the highest-flying corporate executives in the galaxy. We don't pioneer any more, we designate. So, we map out the last remaining decks. We track the power cables and note what they power. Then we leave.»
«I know I can crack their program language, Marcus,» Karl said. «I can get us into the command network.»
Marcus smiled at the weary pride in his voice. «Nobody is going to be more pleased about that than me, Karl. One thing I do intend to take with us is a cybermouse, preferably more than one. That molecular synthesizer is the hard evidence we need to convince the banks of what we've got.»
Karl blushed. «Uh, Marcus, I don't know what'll happen if we try and cut one out of the composite. So far we've been left alone; but if the network thinks we're endangering the ship, well . . .»
«I'd like to think we're capable of something more sophisticated than ripping a cybermouse out of the composite. Hopefully, you'll be able to access the network, and we can simply ask it to replicate a molecular synthesizer unit for us. They have to be manufactured somewhere on board.»
«Yeah, I suppose they do. Unless the cybermice duplicate themselves.»
«Now that'd be a sight,» Roman said happily. «One of them humping away on top of the other.»
His neural nanonics time function told Karl he'd slept for nine hours. After he wriggled out of his sleep pouch he air-swam into the crew lounge and helped himself to a pile of food sachets from the galley. There wasn't much activity in the ship, so he didn't even bother to access the flight computer until he'd almost finished eating.
Katherine was on watch when he dived into the bridge through the floor hatch.
«Who's here?» he asked breathlessly. «Who else is on board right now?»
«Just Roman. The rest of them are all over on the wreck. Why?»
«Shit.»
«Why, what's the matter?»
«Have you accessed the flight computer?»
«I'm on watch, of course I'm accessing.»
«No, not the ship's functions. The satellite analysis network Victoria set up.»
Her flat features twisted into a surprised grin. «You mean they've found some gold?»
«No, no fucking way. The network was reporting that satellite three had located a target deposit three hours ago. When I accessed the network direct to follow it up I found out what the search parameters really are. They're not looking for gold, those bastards are here to get pitchblende.»
«Pitchblende?» Katherine had to run a search program through her neural nanonics encyclopedia to find out what it was. «Oh Christ, uranium. They want uranium.»
«Exactly. You could never mine it from a planet without the local government knowing; that kind of operation would be easily spotted by the observation satellites. Asteroids don't have deposits of pitchblende. But planetoids do, and out here nobody is going to know that they're scooping it up.»
«I knew it! I bloody knew that fable about gold mountains was a load of balls.»
«They must be terrorists, or Sonoran independence freaks, or black syndicate members. We have to warn the others, we can't let them back on board Lady Mac .»
«Wait a minute, Karl. Yes, they're shits, but if we leave them over on the wreck they'll die. Even if you're prepared to do that, it's the Captain's decision.»
«No it isn't, not any more. If they come back then neither you, me, nor the Captain is going to be in any position to make decisions about anything. They knew we'd find out about the pitchblende eventually when Lady Mac rendezvoused with the ore particle. They knew we wouldn't take it on board voluntarily. That means they came fully prepared to force us. They've got guns, or weapons implants. Jorge is exactly what I said he was, a mercenary killer. We can't let them back on the ship, Katherine. We can't.»
«Oh, Christ.» She was gripping the side of her acceleration couch in reflex. Command decision. And it was all hers.
«Can we datavise the Captain?» he asked.
«I don't know. We've got relay blocks in the stairwells now the cybermice have been deactivated, but they're not very reliable; the structure plays hell with our signals.»
«Who's he with?»
«He was partnering Victoria. Wai and Schutz are together; Antonio and Jorge made up the last team.»
«Datavise Wai and Schutz, get them out first. Then try for the Captain.»
«OK. Get Roman, and go down to the airlock chamber; I'll authorize the weapons cabinet to release some maser carbines . . . Shit!»
«What?»
«I can't. Marcus has the flight computer command codes. We can't even fire the thrusters without him.»
Deck fourteen appeared no different from any other as Marcus and Victoria wandered through it. The corridors were broad, and there were few doorways. None they did find were closed.
«About sixty per cent is sealed off,» Marcus datavised. «This must be a major engineering level.»
«Yeah. There's so many cables around here I'm having trouble cataloguing the grid.» She was wiping a magnetic sensor block slowly from side to side as they walked.
His communication block reported it was receiving an encrypted signal from the Lady Mac . Sheer surprise made him halt. He retrieved the appropriate code file from a neural nanonics memory cell.
«Captain?»
«What's the problem, Katherine?»
«You've got to get back to the ship. Now, Captain, and make sure Victoria doesn't come with you.»
«Why?»
«Captain, this is Karl. I accessed the analysis network; the satellites are looking for pitchblende, not gold or platinum. Antonio's people are terrorists, they want to build fission bombs.»
Marcus focused his collar sensors on Victoria, who was waiting a couple of metres down the corridor. «Where's Schutz and Wai?»
«On their way back,» Katherine datavised. «They should be here in another five minutes.»
«OK, it's going to take me at least half an hour to get back.» He didn't like to think about climbing fourteen flights of stairs fast, not in this gravity. «Start prepping the ship.»
«Captain, Karl thinks they're probably armed.»
Marcus's communication block reported another signal coming on-line.
«Karl is quite right,» Jorge datavised. «We are indeed armed; and we also have excellent processor blocks and decryption programs. Really, Captain, this code of yours is at least three years out of date.»
Marcus saw Victoria turn to face him. «Care to comment on the pitchblende?» he asked.
«I admit, the material would have been of some considerable use to us,» Jorge replied. «But of course, this wreck has changed the Confederation beyond recognition, has it not, Captain?»
«Possibly.»
«Definitely. And so we no longer require the pitchblende.»
«That's a very drastic switch of allegiance.»
«Please, Captain, do not be facetious. The satellites were left on purely for your benefit; we didn't wish to alarm you.»
«Thank you for your consideration.»
«Captain,» Katherine datavised. «Schutz and Wai are in the airlock.»
«I do hope you're not proposing to leave without us,» Jorge datavised. «That would be most unwise.»
«You were going to kill us,» Karl datavised.
«That is a hysterical claim. You would not have been hurt.»
«As long as we obeyed, and helped you slaughter thousands of people.»
Marcus wished Karl would stop being quite so blunt. He had few enough options as it was.
«Come now, Captain,» Jorge said. «The Lady Macbeth is combat-capable; are you telling me you have never killed people in political disputes?»
«We've fought. But only against other ships.»
«Don't try and claim the moral high ground, Captain. War is war, no matter how it is fought.»
«Only when it's between soldiers; anything else is terrorism.»
«I assure you, we have put our old allegiance behind us. I ask you to do the same. This quarrel is foolish in the extreme. We both have so much to gain.»
And you're armed, Marcus filled in silently. Jorge and Antonio were supposed to be inspecting decks twelve and thirteen. It would be tough if not impossible getting back to the airlock before them. But I can't trust them on Lady Mac .
«Captain, they're moving,» Katherine datavised. «The communication block in stairwell three has acquired them, strength one. They must be coming up.»
«Victoria,» Jorge datavised. «Restrain the Captain and bring him to the airlock. I advise all of you on the ship to remain calm, we can still find a peaceful solution to this situation.»
Unarmed combat programs went primary in Marcus's neural nanonics. The black, featureless figure opposite him didn't move.
«Your call,» he datavised. According to his tactical analysis program she had few choices. Jorge's order implied she was armed, though a scan of her utility belt didn't reveal anything obvious other than a standard fission blade. If she went for a gun he would have an attack window. If she didn't, then he could probably stay ahead of her. She was a lot younger, but his geneered physique should be able to match her in this gravity field.
Victoria dropped the sensor block she was carrying, and moved her hand to her belt. She grabbed the multipurpose power tool and started to bring it up.
Marcus slammed into her, using his greater mass to throw her off balance. She was hampered by trying to keep her grip on the tool. His impact made her sway sideways, then the fierce xenoc gravity took over. She toppled helplessly, falling fast. The power tool was swinging round to point at him. Marcus kicked her hand, and the unit skittered away. It didn't slide far, the gravity saw to that.
Victoria landed with a terrible thud. Her neural nanonics medical monitor program flashed up an alert that the impact had broken her collarbone. Axon blocks came on-line, muting all but the briefest pulse of pain. It was her programs again which made her twist round to avoid any follow-on blow, her conscious mind was almost unaware of the fact she was still moving. A hand scrabbled for the power tool. She snatched it and sat up. Marcus was disappearing down a side corridor. She fired at him before the targeting program even gave her an overlay grid.
«Jorge,» she datavised. «I've lost him.»
«Then get after him.»
Marcus's collar sensors showed him a spray of incendiary droplets fizzing out of the wall barely a metre behind him. The multipurpose tool must be some kind of laser pistol. «Katherine,» he datavised. «Retract Lady Mac 's airlock tube. Now. Close the outer hatch and codelock it. They are not to come on board.»
«Acknowledged. How do we get you back?»
«Yes, Captain,» Jorge datavised. «Do tell.»
Marcus dodged down a junction. «Have Wai stand by. When I need her, I'll need her fast.»
«You think you can cut your way out of the shell, Captain? You have a fission blade, and that shell is held together by a molecular bonding generator.»
«You touch him, shithead, and we'll fry that fucking wreck,» Karl datavised. «Lady Mac 's got maser cannons.»
«But do you have the command codes, I wonder. Captain?»
«Communication silence,» Marcus ordered. «When I want you, I'll call.»
Jorge's boosted muscles allowed him to ascend stairwell three at a speed which Antonio could never match. He was soon left struggling along behind. The airlock was the tactical high ground, once he had secured that, Jorge knew he'd won. As he climbed his hands moved automatically, assembling the weapon from various innocuous-looking pieces of equipment he was carrying on his utility belt.
«Victoria?» he datavised. «Have you got him?»
«No. He broke my shoulder, the bastard. I've lost him.»
«Go to the nearest stairwell, I expect that's what he's done. Antonio, go back and meet her. Then start searching for him.»
«Is that a joke?» Antonio asked. «He could be anywhere.»
«No, he's not. He has to come up. Up is where the airlock is.»
«Yes, but—«
«Don't argue. And when you find him, don't kill him. We have to have him alive. He's our ticket out. Our only ticket, understand?»
«Yes, Jorge.»
When he reached the airlock, Jorge closed the inner hatch and cycled the chamber. The outer hatch dilated to show him the Lady Macbeth 's fuselage fifteen metres away. Her airlock tube had retracted, and the fuselage shield was in place.
«This is a no-win stand-off,» he datavised. «Captain, please come up to the airlock. You have to deal with me, you have no choice. The three of us will leave our weapons over here, and then we can all go back on board together. And when we return to a port none of us will mention this unfortunate incident again. That is reasonable, surely?»
Schutz had just reached the bridge when they received Jorge's datavise.
«Damn! He's disconnected our cable from the communication block,» Karl said. «We can't call the Captain now even if we wanted to.»
Schutz rolled in midair above his acceleration couch and landed gently on the cushioning. Restraint webbing slithered over him.
«What the hell do we do now?» Roman asked. «Without the command codes we're bloody helpless.»
«It wouldn't take that long for us to break open the weapons cabinet,» Schutz said. «They haven't got the Captain. We can go over there and hunt them down with the carbines.»
«I can't sanction that,» Katherine said. «God knows what sort of weapons they have.»
«Sanction it? We put it to the vote.»
«It's my duty watch. Nobody votes on anything. The last order the Captain gave us was to wait. We wait.» She datavised the flight computer for a channel to the MSV. «Wai, status, please?»
«Powering up. I'll be ready for a flight in two minutes.»
«Thank you.»
«We have to do something!» Karl said.
«For a start you can calm down,» Katherine told him. «We're not going to help Marcus by doing anything rash. He obviously had something in mind when he told Wai to get ready.»
The hatchway to the Captain's cabin slid open. Marcus air-swam out and grinned round at their stupefied expressions. «Actually, I didn't have any idea what to do when I said that. I was stalling.»
«How the fuck did you get back on board?» Roman yelped.
Marcus looked at Katherine and gave her a lopsided smile. «By being right, I'm afraid. The dish is a distress beacon.»
«So what?» she whispered numbly.
He drifted over to his acceleration couch and activated the webbing. «It means the wormhole doesn't go back to the xenoc homeworld.»
«You found out how to use it!» Karl exclaimed. «You opened its other end inside the Lady Mac .»
«No. There is no other end. Yes, they built it as part of their survival operation. It was their escape route, you were right about that. But it doesn't go somewhere; it goes somewhen .»
Instinct had brought Marcus to the portal chamber. It was as good as any other part of the ship. Besides, the xenocs had escaped their predicament from here. In a remote part of his mind he assumed that winding up on their homeworld was preferable to capture here by Jorge. It wasn't the kind of choice he wanted to make.
He walked slowly round the portal. The pale violet emanation in the air around it remained constant, hazing the dull surface from perfect observation. That and a faint hum were the only evidence of the massive quantity of power it consumed. Its eternal stability a mocking enigma.
Despite all the logic of argument he knew Katherine was wrong. Why build the dish if you had this ability? And why keep it operational?
That factor must have been important to them. It had been built in the centre of the ship, and built to last. They'd even reconfigured the wreck to ensure it lasted. Fine, they needed reliability, and they were masters of material science. But a one-off piece of emergency equipment lasting thirteen thousand years? There must be a reason, and the only logical one was that they knew they would need it to remain functional so they could come back one day.
The SII suit prevented him from smiling as realization dawned. But it did reveal a shiver ripple along his limbs as the cold wonder of the knowledge struck home.
On the Lady Mac 's bridge, Marcus said: «We originally assumed that the xenocs would just go into zero-tau and wait for a rescue ship; because that's what we would do. But their technology allows them to take a much different approach to engineering problems.»
«The wormhole leads into the future,» Roman said in astonishment.
«Almost. It doesn't lead anywhere but back to itself, so the length inside it represents time not space. As long as the portal exists you can travel through it. The xenocs went in just after they built the dish and came out again when their rescue ship arrived. That's why they built the portal to survive so long, it had to carry them through a great deal of time.»
«How does that help you get here?» Katherine asked. «You're trapped over in the xenoc wreckage right now, not in the past.»
«The wormhole exists as long as the portal does. It's an open tube to every second of that entire period of existence, you're not restricted which way you travel through it.»
In the portal chamber Marcus approached one of the curving black buttress legs. The artificial gravity was off directly underneath the doughnut so the xenocs could rise into it. But they had been intent on travelling into the future.
He started to climb the buttress. The first section was the steepest; he had to clamp his hands behind it, and haul himself up. Not easy in that gravity field. It gradually curved over, flattening out at the top, leaving him standing above the doughnut. He balanced there precariously, very aware of the potentially lethal fall down onto the floor.
«We're partners, actually. I'm not being paid for this flight unless we strike lucky. And now we have. We've got the xenoc ship, we haven't got any gold. What does it matter to you how we get rich, as long as we do? I thought money was the whole point of this flight.»
Antonio snarled at her, and flung himself at the floor hatch, kicking off hard with his legs. His elbow caught the rim a nasty crack as he flashed through it.
«Victoria?» Marcus asked as the silence became strained. «Have the satellite arrays found any heavy metal particles yet?»
«There are definitely traces of gold and platinum, but nothing to justify a rendezvous.»
«In that case, I say we start to research the xenoc wreck properly.» He looked straight at Jorge. «How about you?»
«I think it would be prudent. You're sure we can continue to monitor the array satellites from here?»
«Yes.»
«Good. Count me in.»
«Thanks. Victoria?»
She seemed troubled by Jorge's response, even a little bewildered, but she said: «Sure.»
«Karl, you're the nearest thing we've got to a computer expert. I want you over there trying to make contact with whatever control network is still operating.»
«You got it.»
«From now on we go over in teams of four. I want sensors put up to watch the airlocks when we're not around, and I want some way of communicating with people inside. Start thinking. Wai, you and I are going to secure Lady Mac to the side of the shell. OK, let's get active, people.»
Unsurprisingly, none of the standard astronautics industry vacuum epoxies worked on the shell. Marcus and Wai wound up using tether cables wrapped round the whole of the xenoc ship to hold Lady Mac in place.
Three hours after Karl went over, he asked Marcus to join him.
Lady Mac 's main airlock tube had telescoped out of the hull to rest against the shell. There was no way it could ever be mated to the xenoc airlock rectangle, but it did allow the crew to transfer over directly without having to use exoskeleton armour and the MSV. They'd also run an optical fibre through the xenoc airlock to the interior of the ship. The hatch material closed around it forming a perfect seal, rather than slicing it in half.
Marcus found Karl just inside the airlock, sitting on the decking with several processor blocks in his lap. Eight blisters were slowly circling round him; two on the wall were stationary.
«Roman was almost right,» he datavised as soon as Marcus stepped out of the airlock. «Your exoskeletons were cleared away. But not by any butler mechanoid. Watch.» He lobbed an empty recording flek case onto the floor behind the blisters. One of them slid over to it. The green composite became soft, then liquid. The little plastic case sank through it into the blister.
«I call them cybermice,» Karl datavised. «They just scurry around keeping the place clean. You won't see the exoskeletons again, they ate them, along with anything else they don't recognize as part of the ship's structure. I imagine they haven't tried digesting us yet because we're large and active; maybe they think we're friends of the xenocs. But I wouldn't want to try sleeping over here.»
«Does this mean we won't be able to put sensors up?»
«Not for a while. I've managed to stop them digesting the communication block which the optical fibre is connected to.»
«How?»
He pointed to the two on the wall. «I shut them down.»
«Jesus, have you accessed a control network?»
«No. Schutz and I used a micro SQUID on one of the cybermice to get a more detailed scan of its electronics. Once we'd tapped the databus traffic it was just a question of running standard decryption programs. I can't tell you how these things work, but I have found some basic command routines. There's a deactivation code which you can datavise to them. I've also got a reactivation code, and some directional codes. The good news is that the xenoc program language is standardized.» He stood and held a communication block up to the ceiling. «This is the deactivation code.» A small circle of the ceiling around the block turned dark. «It's only localized, I haven't worked out how to control entire sections yet. We need to trace the circuitry to find an access port.»
«Can you turn it back on again?»
«Oh yes.» The dark section flared white again. «The codes work for the doors as well; just hold your block over the dimples.»
«Be quicker to use the dimples.»
«For now, yes.»
«I wasn't complaining, Karl. This is an excellent start. What's your next step?»
«I want to access the next level of the cybermice program architecture. That way I should be able to load recognition patterns in their memory. Once I can do that I'll enter our equipment, and they should leave it alone. But that's going to take a long time; Lady Mac isn't exactly heavily stocked with equipment for this kind of work. Of course, once I do get deeper into their management routines we should be able to learn a lot about their internal systems. From what I can make out the cybermice are built around a molecular synthesizer.» He switched on a fission knife, its ten-centimetre blade glowing a pale yellow under the ceiling's glare. It scored a dark smouldering scar in the composite.
A cybermouse immediately slipped towards the blemish. This time when the composite softened the charred granules were sucked down, and the small valley closed up.
«Exactly the same thickness and molecular structure as before,» Karl datavised. «That's why the ship's interior looks brand new, and everything's still working flawlessly after thirteen thousand years. The cybermice keep regenerating it. Just keep giving them energy and a supply of mass and there's no reason this ship won't last for eternity.»
«It's almost a von Neumann machine, isn't it?»
«Close. I expect a synthesizer this small has limits. After all, if it could reproduce anything, they would have built themselves another starship. But the principle's here, Captain. We can learn and expand on it. Think of the effect a unit like this will have on our manufacturing industry.»
Marcus was glad he was in an SII suit, it blocked any giveaway facial expressions. Replicator technology would be a true revolution, restructuring every aspect of human society, Adamist and Edenist alike. And revolutions never favoured the old.
I just came here for the money, not to destroy a way of life for eight hundred star systems.
«That's good, Karl. Where did the others go?»
«Down to the third deck. Once we solved the puzzle of the disappearing exoskeletons, they decided it was safe to start exploring again.»
«Fair enough, I'll go down and join them.»
«I cannot believe you agreed to help them,» Antonio stormed. «You of all people. You know how much the cause is depending on us.»
Jorge gave him a hollow smile. They were together in his sleeping cubicle, which made it very cramped. But it was one place on the starship he knew for certain no sensors were operational; a block he'd brought with him had made sure of that. «The cause has become dependent on your project. There's a difference.»
«What are you talking about?»
«Those detector satellites cost us a million and a half fuseodollars each; and most of that money came from sources who will require repayment no matter what the outcome of our struggle.»
«The satellites are a hell of a lot cheaper than antimatter.»
«Indeed so. But they are worthless to us unless they find pitchblende.»
«We'll find it. Victoria says there are plenty of traces. It's only a question of time before we get a big one.»
«Maybe. It was a good idea, Antonio, I'm not criticizing. Fusion bomb components are not easily obtainable to a novice political organization with limited resources. One mistake, and the intelligence agencies would wipe us out. No, old-fashioned fission was a viable alternative. Even if we couldn't process the uranium up to weapons quality, we can still use it as a lethal large-scale contaminate. As you say, we couldn't lose. Sonora would gain independence, and we would form the first government, with full access to Treasury. Everyone would be reimbursed for their individual contribution to the liberation.»
«So why are we fucking about in a pile of xenoc junk? Just back me up, Jorge, please. Calvert will leave it alone if we both pressure him.»
«Because, Antonio, this piece of so-called xenoc junk has changed the rules of the game. In fact we're not even playing the same game any more. Gravity generation, an inexhaustible power supply, molecular synthesis, and if Karl can access the control network he might even find the blueprints to build whatever stardrive they used. Are you aware of the impact such a spectrum of radical technologies will have upon the Confederation when released all together? Entire industries will collapse from obsolescence overnight. There will be an economic depression the like of which we haven't seen since before the invention of the ZTT drive. It will take decades for the human race to return to the kind of stability we enjoy today. We will be richer and stronger because of it; but the transition years, ah . . . I would not like to be a citizen in an asteroid settlement that has just blackmailed the founding company into premature independence. Who is going to loan an asteroid such as that the funds to re-equip our industrial stations, eh?»
«I . . . I hadn't thought of that.»
«Neither has the crew. Except for Calvert. Look at his face next time you talk to him, Antonio. He knows, he has reasoned it out, and he's seen the end of his captaincy and freedom. The rest of them are lost amid their dreams of exorbitant wealth.»
«So what do we do?»
Jorge clamped a hand on Antonio's shoulder. «Fate has smiled on us, Antonio. This was registered as a joint venture flight. No matter we were looking for something different. By law, we are entitled to an equal share of the xenoc technology. We are already trillionaires, my friend. When we get home we can buy Sonora asteroid; Holy Mother, we can buy the entire Lagrange cluster.»
Antonio managed a smile, which didn't quite correspond with the dew of sweat on his forehead. «OK, Jorge. Hell, you're right. We don't have to worry about anything any more. But . . .»
«Now what?»
«I know we can pay off the loan on the satellites, but what about the Crusade council? They won't like this. They might—«
«There's no cause for alarm. The council will never trouble us again. I maintain that I am right about the disaster which destroyed the xenoc ship. It didn't have an accident. That is a warship, Antonio. And you know what that means, don't you? Somewhere on board there will be weapons just as advanced and as powerful as the rest of its technology.»
It was Wai's third trip over to the xenoc ship. None of them spent more than two hours at a time inside. The gravity field made every muscle ache, walking round was like being put on a crash exercise regimen.
Schutz and Karl were still busy by the airlock, probing the circuitry of the cybermice, and decrypting more of their programming. It was probably the most promising line of research; once they could use the xenoc program language they should be able to extract any answer they wanted from the ship's controlling network. Assuming there was one. Wai was convinced there would be. The number of systems operating—life-support, power, gravity—had to mean some basic management integration system was functional.
In the meantime there was the rest of the structure to explore. She had a layout file stored in her neural nanonics, updated by the others every time they came back from an excursion. At the blunt end of the wedge there could be anything up to forty decks, if the spacing was standard. Nobody had gone down to the bottom yet. There were some areas which had no obvious entrance; presumably engineering compartments, or storage tanks. Marcus had the teams tracing the main power lines with magnetic sensors, trying to locate the generator.
Wai plodded after Roman as he followed a cable running down the centre of a corridor on the eighth deck.
«It's got so many secondary feeds it looks like a fish-bone,» he complained. They paused at a junction with five branches and he swept the block round. «This way.» He started off down one of the new corridors.
«We're heading towards stairwell five,» she told him, as the layout file scrolled through her skull.
There were more cybermice than usual on deck eight; over thirty were currently pursuing her and Roman, creating strong ripples in the composite floor and walls. Wai had noticed that the deeper she went into the ship the more of them there seemed to be. Although after her second trip she'd completely ignored them. She wasn't paying a lot of attention to the compartments leading off from the corridors, either. It wasn't that they were all the same, rather that they were all similarly empty.
They reached the stairwell, and Roman stepped inside. «It's going down,» he datavised.
«Great, that means we've got another level to climb up when we're finished.»
Not that going down these stairs was easy, she acknowledged charily. If only they could find some kind of variable gravity chute. Perhaps they'd all been positioned in the part of the ship that was destroyed.
«You know, I think Marcus might have been right about the dish being an emergency beacon,» she datavised. «I can't think of any other reason for it being built. Believe me, I've tried.»
«He always is right. It's bloody annoying, but that's why I fly with him.»
«I was against it because of the faith gap.»
«Say what?»
«The amount of faith these xenocs must have had in themselves. It's awesome. So different from humans. Think about it. Even if their homeworld is only two thousand light-years away, that's how long the message is going to take to reach there. Yet they sent it believing someone would still be around to receive it, and more, act on it. Suppose that was us; suppose the Lady Mac had an accident a thousand light-years away. Would you think there was any point in sending a lightspeed message to the Confederation, then going into zero-tau to wait for a rescue ship?»
«If their technology can last that long, then I guess their civilization can, too.»
«No, our hardware can last for a long time. It's our culture that's fragile, at least compared to theirs. I don't think the Confederation will last a thousand years.»
«The Edenists will be here, I expect. So will all the planets, physically if nothing else. Some of their societies will advance, possibly even to a state similar to the Kiint; some will revert to barbarism. But there will be somebody left to hear the message and help.»
«You're a terrible optimist.»
They arrived at the ninth deck, only to find the doorway was sealed over with composite.
«Odd,» Roman datavised. «If there's no corridor or compartment beyond, why put a doorway here at all?»
«Because this was a change made after the accident.»
«Could be. But why would they block off an interior section?»
«I've no idea. You want to keep going down?»
«Sure. I'm optimistic enough not to believe in ghosts lurking in the basement.»
«I really wish you hadn't said that.»
The tenth deck had been sealed off as well.
«My legs can take one more level,» Wai datavised. «Then I'm going back.»
There was a door on deck eleven. It was the first one in the ship to be closed.
Wai stuck her fingers in the dimple, and the door dilated. She edged over cautiously, and swept the focus of her collar sensors round. «Holy shit. We'd better fetch Marcus.»
Decks nine and ten had simply been removed to make the chamber. Standing on the floor and looking up, Marcus could actually see the outline of the stairwell doorways in the wall above him. By xenoc standards it was a cathedral. There was only one altar, right in the centre. A doughnut of some dull metallic substance, eight metres in diameter with a central aperture five metres across; the air around it was emitting a faint violet glow. It stood on five sable-black arching buttresses, four metres tall.
«The positioning must be significant,» Wai datavised. «They built it almost at the centre of the wreck. They wanted to give it as much protection as possible.»
«Agreed,» Katherine replied. «They obviously considered it important. After a ship has suffered this much damage, you don't expend resources on anything other than critical survival requirements.»
«Whatever it is,» Schutz reported, «it's using up an awful lot of power.» He was walking round it, keeping a respectful distance, wiping a sensor block over the floor as he went. «There's a power cable feeding each of those legs.»
«Is it radiating in any spectrum?» Marcus asked.
«Only that light you can see, which spills over into ultraviolet, too. Apart from that, it's inert. But the energy must be going somewhere.»
«OK.» Marcus walked up to a buttress, and switched his collar focus to scan the aperture. It was veiled by a grey haze, as if a sheet of fog had solidified across it. When he took another tentative step forward the fluid in his semicircular canals was suddenly affected by a very strange tidal force. His foot began to slip forwards and upwards. He threw himself backwards, and almost stumbled. Jorge and Karl just caught him in time.
«There's no artificial gravity underneath it,» he datavised. «But there's some kind of gravity field wrapped around it.» He paused. «No, that's not right. It pushed me.»
«Pushed?» Katherine hurried to his side. «Are you sure?»
«Yes.»
«My God.»
«What? Do you know what it is?»
«Possibly. Schutz, hang on to my arm, please.»
The cosmonik came forward and took her left arm. Katherine edged forward until she was almost under the lambent doughnut. She stretched up her right arm, holding out a sensor block, and tried to press it against the doughnut. It was as if she was trying to make two identical magnetic poles touch. The block couldn't get to within twenty centimetres of the surface, it kept slithering and sliding through the air. She held it as steady as she could, and datavised it to run an analysis of the doughnut's molecular structure.
The results made her back away.
«So?» Marcus asked.
«I'm not entirely sure it's even solid in any reference frame we understand. That surface could just be a boundary effect. There's no spectroscopic data at all, the sensor couldn't even detect an atomic structure in there, let alone valency bonds.»
«You mean it's a ring of energy?»
«Don't hold me to it, but I think that thing could be some kind of exotic matter.»
«Exotic in what sense, exactly?» Jorge asked.
«It has a negative energy density. And before you ask, that doesn't mean anti-gravity. Exotic matter only has one known use, to keep a wormhole open.»
«Jesus, that's a wormhole portal?» Marcus asked.
«It must be.»
«Any way of telling where it leads?»
«I can't give you an exact stellar coordinate; but I know where the other end has to emerge. The xenocs never called for a rescue ship, Marcus. They threaded a wormhole with exotic matter to stop it collapsing, and escaped down it. That is the entrance to a tunnel which leads right back to their homeworld.»
Schutz found Marcus in the passenger lounge in capsule C. He was floating centimetres above one of the flatchairs, with the lights down low.
The cosmonik touched his heels to a stikpad on the decking beside the lower hatch. «You really don't like being wrong, do you?»
«No, but I'm not sulking about it, either.» Marcus moulded a jaded grin. «I still think I'm right about the dish, but I don't know how the hell to prove it.»
«The wormhole portal is rather conclusive evidence.»
«Very tactful. It doesn't solve anything, actually. If they could open a wormhole straight back home, why did they build the dish? Like Katherine said, if you have an accident of that magnitude then you devote yourself completely to survival. Either they called for help, or they went home through the wormhole. They wouldn't do both.»
«Possibly it wasn't their dish, they were just here to investigate it.»
«Two ancient unknown xenoc races with FTL starship technology is pushing credibility. It also takes us back to the original problem: if the dish isn't a distress beacon, then what the hell was it built for?»
«I'm sure there will be an answer at some time.»
«I know, we're only a commercial trader's crew, with a very limited research capability. But we can still ask fundamental questions, like why have they kept the wormhole open for thirteen thousand years?»
«Because that's the way their technology works. They probably wouldn't consider it odd.»
«I'm not saying it shouldn't work for that long, I'm asking why their homeworld would bother maintaining a link to a chunk of derelict wreckage?»
«That is harder for logic to explain. The answer must lie in their psychology.»
«That's too much like a cop-out; you can't cry alien at everything you don't understand. But it does bring us to my final query. If you can open a wormhole with such accuracy across God knows how many light-years, why would you need a starship in the first place? What sort of psychology accounts for that?»
«All right, Marcus, you got me. Why?»
«I haven't got a clue. I've been reviewing all the file texts we have on wormholes, trying to find a solution which pulls all this together. And I can't do it. It's a complete paradox.»
«There's only one thing left, then, isn't there?»
Marcus turned to look at the hulking figure of the cosmonik. «What?»
«Go down the wormhole and ask them.»
«Yeah, maybe I will. Somebody has to go eventually. What does our dear Katherine have to say on that subject? Can we go inside it in our SII suits?»
«She's rigging up some sensors that she can shove through the interface. That grey sheet isn't a physical barrier. She's already pushed a length of conduit tubing through. It's some kind of pressure membrane, apparently, stops the ship's atmosphere from flooding into the wormhole.»
«Another billion-fuseodollar gadget. Jesus, this is getting too big for us, we're going to have to prioritize.» He datavised the flight computer, and issued a general order for everyone to assemble in capsule A's main lounge.
Karl was the last to arrive. The young systems engineer looked exhausted. He frowned when he caught sight of Marcus.
«I thought you were over in the xenoc ship.»
«No.»
«But you . . .» He rubbed his fingers against his temples. «Skip it.»
«Any progress?» Marcus asked.
«A little. From what I can make out, the molecular synthesizer and its governing circuitry are combined within the same crystal lattice. To give you a biological analogy, it's as though a muscle is also a brain.»
«Don't follow that one through too far,» Roman called.
Karl didn't even smile. He took a chocolate sac from the dispenser, and sucked on the nipple.
«Katherine?» Marcus said.
«I've managed to place a visual-spectrum sensor in the wormhole. There's not much light in there, only what soaks through the pressure membrane. From what we can see it's a straight tunnel. I assume the xenocs cut off the artificial gravity under the portal so they could egress it easily. What I'd like to do next is dismount a laser radar from the MSV and use that.»
«If the wormhole's threaded with exotic matter, will you get a return from it?»
«Probably not. But we should get a return from whatever is at the other end.»
«What's the point?»
Three of them began to talk at once, Katherine loudest of all. Marcus held his hand up for silence. «Listen, everybody, according to Confederation law if the appointed commander or designated controlling mechanism of a spaceship or free-flying space structure discontinues that control for one year and a day then any ownership title becomes null and void. Legally, this xenoc ship is an abandoned structure which we are entitled to file a salvage claim on.»
«There is a controlling network,» Karl said.
«It's a sub-system,» Marcus said. «The law is very clear on that point. If a starship's flight computer fails, but, say, the fusion generators keep working, their governing processors do not constitute the designated controlling mechanism. Nobody will be able to challenge our claim.»
«The xenocs might,» Wai said.
«Let's not make extra problems for ourselves. As the situation stands right now, we have title. We can't not claim the ship because the xenocs may or may not return at some time.»
Katherine rocked her head in understanding. «If we start examining the wormhole they might come back, sooner rather than later. Is that what you're worried about?»
«It's a consideration, yes. Personally, I'd rather like to meet them. But, Katherine, are you really going to learn how to build exotic matter and open a wormhole with the kind of sensor blocks we've got?»
«You know I'm not, Marcus.»
«Right. Nor are we going to find the principle behind the artificial-gravity generator, or any of the other miracles on board. What we have to do is catalogue as much as we can, and identify the areas that need researching. Once we've done that we can bring back the appropriate specialists, pay them a huge salary, and let them get on with it. Don't any of you understand yet? When we found this ship, we stopped being starship crew, and turned into the highest-flying corporate executives in the galaxy. We don't pioneer any more, we designate. So, we map out the last remaining decks. We track the power cables and note what they power. Then we leave.»
«I know I can crack their program language, Marcus,» Karl said. «I can get us into the command network.»
Marcus smiled at the weary pride in his voice. «Nobody is going to be more pleased about that than me, Karl. One thing I do intend to take with us is a cybermouse, preferably more than one. That molecular synthesizer is the hard evidence we need to convince the banks of what we've got.»
Karl blushed. «Uh, Marcus, I don't know what'll happen if we try and cut one out of the composite. So far we've been left alone; but if the network thinks we're endangering the ship, well . . .»
«I'd like to think we're capable of something more sophisticated than ripping a cybermouse out of the composite. Hopefully, you'll be able to access the network, and we can simply ask it to replicate a molecular synthesizer unit for us. They have to be manufactured somewhere on board.»
«Yeah, I suppose they do. Unless the cybermice duplicate themselves.»
«Now that'd be a sight,» Roman said happily. «One of them humping away on top of the other.»
His neural nanonics time function told Karl he'd slept for nine hours. After he wriggled out of his sleep pouch he air-swam into the crew lounge and helped himself to a pile of food sachets from the galley. There wasn't much activity in the ship, so he didn't even bother to access the flight computer until he'd almost finished eating.
Katherine was on watch when he dived into the bridge through the floor hatch.
«Who's here?» he asked breathlessly. «Who else is on board right now?»
«Just Roman. The rest of them are all over on the wreck. Why?»
«Shit.»
«Why, what's the matter?»
«Have you accessed the flight computer?»
«I'm on watch, of course I'm accessing.»
«No, not the ship's functions. The satellite analysis network Victoria set up.»
Her flat features twisted into a surprised grin. «You mean they've found some gold?»
«No, no fucking way. The network was reporting that satellite three had located a target deposit three hours ago. When I accessed the network direct to follow it up I found out what the search parameters really are. They're not looking for gold, those bastards are here to get pitchblende.»
«Pitchblende?» Katherine had to run a search program through her neural nanonics encyclopedia to find out what it was. «Oh Christ, uranium. They want uranium.»
«Exactly. You could never mine it from a planet without the local government knowing; that kind of operation would be easily spotted by the observation satellites. Asteroids don't have deposits of pitchblende. But planetoids do, and out here nobody is going to know that they're scooping it up.»
«I knew it! I bloody knew that fable about gold mountains was a load of balls.»
«They must be terrorists, or Sonoran independence freaks, or black syndicate members. We have to warn the others, we can't let them back on board Lady Mac .»
«Wait a minute, Karl. Yes, they're shits, but if we leave them over on the wreck they'll die. Even if you're prepared to do that, it's the Captain's decision.»
«No it isn't, not any more. If they come back then neither you, me, nor the Captain is going to be in any position to make decisions about anything. They knew we'd find out about the pitchblende eventually when Lady Mac rendezvoused with the ore particle. They knew we wouldn't take it on board voluntarily. That means they came fully prepared to force us. They've got guns, or weapons implants. Jorge is exactly what I said he was, a mercenary killer. We can't let them back on the ship, Katherine. We can't.»
«Oh, Christ.» She was gripping the side of her acceleration couch in reflex. Command decision. And it was all hers.
«Can we datavise the Captain?» he asked.
«I don't know. We've got relay blocks in the stairwells now the cybermice have been deactivated, but they're not very reliable; the structure plays hell with our signals.»
«Who's he with?»
«He was partnering Victoria. Wai and Schutz are together; Antonio and Jorge made up the last team.»
«Datavise Wai and Schutz, get them out first. Then try for the Captain.»
«OK. Get Roman, and go down to the airlock chamber; I'll authorize the weapons cabinet to release some maser carbines . . . Shit!»
«What?»
«I can't. Marcus has the flight computer command codes. We can't even fire the thrusters without him.»
Deck fourteen appeared no different from any other as Marcus and Victoria wandered through it. The corridors were broad, and there were few doorways. None they did find were closed.
«About sixty per cent is sealed off,» Marcus datavised. «This must be a major engineering level.»
«Yeah. There's so many cables around here I'm having trouble cataloguing the grid.» She was wiping a magnetic sensor block slowly from side to side as they walked.
His communication block reported it was receiving an encrypted signal from the Lady Mac . Sheer surprise made him halt. He retrieved the appropriate code file from a neural nanonics memory cell.
«Captain?»
«What's the problem, Katherine?»
«You've got to get back to the ship. Now, Captain, and make sure Victoria doesn't come with you.»
«Why?»
«Captain, this is Karl. I accessed the analysis network; the satellites are looking for pitchblende, not gold or platinum. Antonio's people are terrorists, they want to build fission bombs.»
Marcus focused his collar sensors on Victoria, who was waiting a couple of metres down the corridor. «Where's Schutz and Wai?»
«On their way back,» Katherine datavised. «They should be here in another five minutes.»
«OK, it's going to take me at least half an hour to get back.» He didn't like to think about climbing fourteen flights of stairs fast, not in this gravity. «Start prepping the ship.»
«Captain, Karl thinks they're probably armed.»
Marcus's communication block reported another signal coming on-line.
«Karl is quite right,» Jorge datavised. «We are indeed armed; and we also have excellent processor blocks and decryption programs. Really, Captain, this code of yours is at least three years out of date.»
Marcus saw Victoria turn to face him. «Care to comment on the pitchblende?» he asked.
«I admit, the material would have been of some considerable use to us,» Jorge replied. «But of course, this wreck has changed the Confederation beyond recognition, has it not, Captain?»
«Possibly.»
«Definitely. And so we no longer require the pitchblende.»
«That's a very drastic switch of allegiance.»
«Please, Captain, do not be facetious. The satellites were left on purely for your benefit; we didn't wish to alarm you.»
«Thank you for your consideration.»
«Captain,» Katherine datavised. «Schutz and Wai are in the airlock.»
«I do hope you're not proposing to leave without us,» Jorge datavised. «That would be most unwise.»
«You were going to kill us,» Karl datavised.
«That is a hysterical claim. You would not have been hurt.»
«As long as we obeyed, and helped you slaughter thousands of people.»
Marcus wished Karl would stop being quite so blunt. He had few enough options as it was.
«Come now, Captain,» Jorge said. «The Lady Macbeth is combat-capable; are you telling me you have never killed people in political disputes?»
«We've fought. But only against other ships.»
«Don't try and claim the moral high ground, Captain. War is war, no matter how it is fought.»
«Only when it's between soldiers; anything else is terrorism.»
«I assure you, we have put our old allegiance behind us. I ask you to do the same. This quarrel is foolish in the extreme. We both have so much to gain.»
And you're armed, Marcus filled in silently. Jorge and Antonio were supposed to be inspecting decks twelve and thirteen. It would be tough if not impossible getting back to the airlock before them. But I can't trust them on Lady Mac .
«Captain, they're moving,» Katherine datavised. «The communication block in stairwell three has acquired them, strength one. They must be coming up.»
«Victoria,» Jorge datavised. «Restrain the Captain and bring him to the airlock. I advise all of you on the ship to remain calm, we can still find a peaceful solution to this situation.»
Unarmed combat programs went primary in Marcus's neural nanonics. The black, featureless figure opposite him didn't move.
«Your call,» he datavised. According to his tactical analysis program she had few choices. Jorge's order implied she was armed, though a scan of her utility belt didn't reveal anything obvious other than a standard fission blade. If she went for a gun he would have an attack window. If she didn't, then he could probably stay ahead of her. She was a lot younger, but his geneered physique should be able to match her in this gravity field.
Victoria dropped the sensor block she was carrying, and moved her hand to her belt. She grabbed the multipurpose power tool and started to bring it up.
Marcus slammed into her, using his greater mass to throw her off balance. She was hampered by trying to keep her grip on the tool. His impact made her sway sideways, then the fierce xenoc gravity took over. She toppled helplessly, falling fast. The power tool was swinging round to point at him. Marcus kicked her hand, and the unit skittered away. It didn't slide far, the gravity saw to that.
Victoria landed with a terrible thud. Her neural nanonics medical monitor program flashed up an alert that the impact had broken her collarbone. Axon blocks came on-line, muting all but the briefest pulse of pain. It was her programs again which made her twist round to avoid any follow-on blow, her conscious mind was almost unaware of the fact she was still moving. A hand scrabbled for the power tool. She snatched it and sat up. Marcus was disappearing down a side corridor. She fired at him before the targeting program even gave her an overlay grid.
«Jorge,» she datavised. «I've lost him.»
«Then get after him.»
Marcus's collar sensors showed him a spray of incendiary droplets fizzing out of the wall barely a metre behind him. The multipurpose tool must be some kind of laser pistol. «Katherine,» he datavised. «Retract Lady Mac 's airlock tube. Now. Close the outer hatch and codelock it. They are not to come on board.»
«Acknowledged. How do we get you back?»
«Yes, Captain,» Jorge datavised. «Do tell.»
Marcus dodged down a junction. «Have Wai stand by. When I need her, I'll need her fast.»
«You think you can cut your way out of the shell, Captain? You have a fission blade, and that shell is held together by a molecular bonding generator.»
«You touch him, shithead, and we'll fry that fucking wreck,» Karl datavised. «Lady Mac 's got maser cannons.»
«But do you have the command codes, I wonder. Captain?»
«Communication silence,» Marcus ordered. «When I want you, I'll call.»
Jorge's boosted muscles allowed him to ascend stairwell three at a speed which Antonio could never match. He was soon left struggling along behind. The airlock was the tactical high ground, once he had secured that, Jorge knew he'd won. As he climbed his hands moved automatically, assembling the weapon from various innocuous-looking pieces of equipment he was carrying on his utility belt.
«Victoria?» he datavised. «Have you got him?»
«No. He broke my shoulder, the bastard. I've lost him.»
«Go to the nearest stairwell, I expect that's what he's done. Antonio, go back and meet her. Then start searching for him.»
«Is that a joke?» Antonio asked. «He could be anywhere.»
«No, he's not. He has to come up. Up is where the airlock is.»
«Yes, but—«
«Don't argue. And when you find him, don't kill him. We have to have him alive. He's our ticket out. Our only ticket, understand?»
«Yes, Jorge.»
When he reached the airlock, Jorge closed the inner hatch and cycled the chamber. The outer hatch dilated to show him the Lady Macbeth 's fuselage fifteen metres away. Her airlock tube had retracted, and the fuselage shield was in place.
«This is a no-win stand-off,» he datavised. «Captain, please come up to the airlock. You have to deal with me, you have no choice. The three of us will leave our weapons over here, and then we can all go back on board together. And when we return to a port none of us will mention this unfortunate incident again. That is reasonable, surely?»
Schutz had just reached the bridge when they received Jorge's datavise.
«Damn! He's disconnected our cable from the communication block,» Karl said. «We can't call the Captain now even if we wanted to.»
Schutz rolled in midair above his acceleration couch and landed gently on the cushioning. Restraint webbing slithered over him.
«What the hell do we do now?» Roman asked. «Without the command codes we're bloody helpless.»
«It wouldn't take that long for us to break open the weapons cabinet,» Schutz said. «They haven't got the Captain. We can go over there and hunt them down with the carbines.»
«I can't sanction that,» Katherine said. «God knows what sort of weapons they have.»
«Sanction it? We put it to the vote.»
«It's my duty watch. Nobody votes on anything. The last order the Captain gave us was to wait. We wait.» She datavised the flight computer for a channel to the MSV. «Wai, status, please?»
«Powering up. I'll be ready for a flight in two minutes.»
«Thank you.»
«We have to do something!» Karl said.
«For a start you can calm down,» Katherine told him. «We're not going to help Marcus by doing anything rash. He obviously had something in mind when he told Wai to get ready.»
The hatchway to the Captain's cabin slid open. Marcus air-swam out and grinned round at their stupefied expressions. «Actually, I didn't have any idea what to do when I said that. I was stalling.»
«How the fuck did you get back on board?» Roman yelped.
Marcus looked at Katherine and gave her a lopsided smile. «By being right, I'm afraid. The dish is a distress beacon.»
«So what?» she whispered numbly.
He drifted over to his acceleration couch and activated the webbing. «It means the wormhole doesn't go back to the xenoc homeworld.»
«You found out how to use it!» Karl exclaimed. «You opened its other end inside the Lady Mac .»
«No. There is no other end. Yes, they built it as part of their survival operation. It was their escape route, you were right about that. But it doesn't go somewhere; it goes somewhen .»
Instinct had brought Marcus to the portal chamber. It was as good as any other part of the ship. Besides, the xenocs had escaped their predicament from here. In a remote part of his mind he assumed that winding up on their homeworld was preferable to capture here by Jorge. It wasn't the kind of choice he wanted to make.
He walked slowly round the portal. The pale violet emanation in the air around it remained constant, hazing the dull surface from perfect observation. That and a faint hum were the only evidence of the massive quantity of power it consumed. Its eternal stability a mocking enigma.
Despite all the logic of argument he knew Katherine was wrong. Why build the dish if you had this ability? And why keep it operational?
That factor must have been important to them. It had been built in the centre of the ship, and built to last. They'd even reconfigured the wreck to ensure it lasted. Fine, they needed reliability, and they were masters of material science. But a one-off piece of emergency equipment lasting thirteen thousand years? There must be a reason, and the only logical one was that they knew they would need it to remain functional so they could come back one day.
The SII suit prevented him from smiling as realization dawned. But it did reveal a shiver ripple along his limbs as the cold wonder of the knowledge struck home.
On the Lady Mac 's bridge, Marcus said: «We originally assumed that the xenocs would just go into zero-tau and wait for a rescue ship; because that's what we would do. But their technology allows them to take a much different approach to engineering problems.»
«The wormhole leads into the future,» Roman said in astonishment.
«Almost. It doesn't lead anywhere but back to itself, so the length inside it represents time not space. As long as the portal exists you can travel through it. The xenocs went in just after they built the dish and came out again when their rescue ship arrived. That's why they built the portal to survive so long, it had to carry them through a great deal of time.»
«How does that help you get here?» Katherine asked. «You're trapped over in the xenoc wreckage right now, not in the past.»
«The wormhole exists as long as the portal does. It's an open tube to every second of that entire period of existence, you're not restricted which way you travel through it.»
In the portal chamber Marcus approached one of the curving black buttress legs. The artificial gravity was off directly underneath the doughnut so the xenocs could rise into it. But they had been intent on travelling into the future.
He started to climb the buttress. The first section was the steepest; he had to clamp his hands behind it, and haul himself up. Not easy in that gravity field. It gradually curved over, flattening out at the top, leaving him standing above the doughnut. He balanced there precariously, very aware of the potentially lethal fall down onto the floor.