by Thomas Stone
“What about log files for the doors, do you have those?”
“Yes, and I’ve just checked them. No record of a lockoff state or hatch opening. All data indicates Harry was inside during the time of the attack.”
Kathleen looked at Fagen. “I know what I saw.” Fagen said nothing. Kathleen faced Bobbi. “You believe me, don’t you?”
Bobbi took in a breath and shrugged.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Fagen, “it was my responsibility. I should have left him aboard Minerva with Bart.”
Bobbi shook her head. “I don’t know. Can you picture Bart wrestling him to the ground? We have to protect Minerva as well. I’d rather have him where we can keep an eye on him.”
Silence fell over the group before Kathleen repeated herself, “I know what I saw.
*
The infection had a firm hold. Although Minerva’s higher knowledge of human body chemistry had allowed her to create more and more effective counter-medicines, she had arrived at the conclusion even before leaving Earth orbit that the only chance to reverse the effects of the illness was to synthesize an antidote from living kitzloc DNA. A formidable task in that the essence was dramatically different from anything anyone, including Minerva, had ever seen.
Harry was awake and sat on the edge of his bunk.
“Do you hear me?” Fagen asked.
“Clear as crystal,” Harry replied.
“Minerva says you’re doing well, that the infection is under control.”
“Hmm,” Harry intoned thoughtfully.
Fagen exchanged a glance with Kathleen, who sat next to Harry holding his hand.
“Kathleen says she saw you outside the truck this evening. Do you have any recollection of leaving?”
Harry looked at Kathleen. “What did you see?”
“I saw someone in the shadows. It was you except…”
“What?” Fagen prompted.
“Except you walked oddly, not a walk, more like leaping from foot to foot.”
“Hmm,” Harry hummed again.
“What does that mean?” said Fagen sharply. “That you did leave the truck or not?”
Harry faced Fagen. His red, almost glowing eyes were unnerving. “Did Minerva confirm that I exited the vehicle?”
“To the contrary, she confirmed you did not.”
“Then there’s nothing more to add.” Still holding Kathleen’s hand, Harry turned away and reclined on the bunk.
*
Blane frowned for a moment, and then gazed at Fagen’s visage displayed on the monitor. “It’s not a problem. There are no GPS satellites but Minerva can calculate a grid and keep track of everything -- that is, everything outfitted with a transmitter. She can track visually if she knows what general area to watch. We have picked up some low level interference but nothing to be concerned about. We’ve already calculated the position Jennings wants you to move to and we’ll get you there via the best route. You know, Edward, contacting the locals might have been a bad idea.”
“We discussed this beforehand, Bart. It was your idea, if I remember correctly.”
“If I remember correctly, you thought it was a good idea.”
“Yes, well, we’ve got problems with Harry.”
“Minerva’s working on it but she can’t perform miracles. Harry’s getting the maximum sedative dosage but his abilities keep growing. His blood work shows an abatement of new cellular growth but now it seems the structures are organizing themselves differently, becoming more efficient at whatever it is they do. We don’t know what’s going to happen to Harry, but whatever it is, Minerva and I feel like we’re running out of time to stop it. She needs that living tissue.”
Fagen scratched his head. “I want you to meet us at our camp.”
“You mean bring Minerva down again?”
“Yes.”
“But why?
“I’m thinking about confining Harry to quarters.”
“Aboard Minerva? With just me to watch him?”
“Minerva’s there too.”
Blane shook his head. “I don’t know about that, Edward.”
“We’ll talk about it when I see you.”
“It’s too dangerous to have him aboard. The things he can do… even Minerva doesn’t understand. Have you seen that fire trick of his? Fingers spontaneously light up with flame. He puts it out and presto miraculoso, no burns.”
“Well, looks as though he’s got some new tricks now, but like I said, we’ll talk more when I see you. What’s our ETA at the site?”
Blane sighed. “Oh, all right. Give me the coordinates and I’ll get a travel time for you.”
*
They moved out before dawn as Jennings watched them go. The truck rumbled through the deserted streets quickly but had to wait at the front gate as it was lifted out of the way. The guards were the only people they saw, however they didn’t show the same friendly behavior they had when Fagen and his crew had arrived. Apparently, suspicion traveled fast in Jennings Bank.
All but Harry were weary from the night before but Fagen insisted someone remain awake at all times to assist Minerva in keeping an eye on Harry. As they moved out of the settlement, Harry joined Kathleen in the cab.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Hi. Are you hungry?”
“No.”
Harry sat in the passenger’s seat and both remained silent for a time as the truck drove itself down the same route they’d traveled the day before. After a few kilometers, they slowed and Minerva announced they’d arrived at the spot where they had to leave the road. Amazingly, the ride was only slightly bumpier than the road although Minerva was forced to reduce speed.
Kathleen continued to look out the front windshield but spoke to Harry without looking at him.
“I know it was you,” she said.
“What does it matter?” Harry responded.
“What matters is that someone is dead.”
“No Kath’,” said Harry looking at the only woman he’d ever loved, “what matters is that you’re safe.”
“I don’t know you anymore,” she replied simply. “And I can take care of myself.”
“Really?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she asked Minerva how long until they arrived at the designated camping spot.
“At our current rate, one hour, thirteen minutes, and forty-two seconds.”
The truck went over a rise giving them a magnificent view of a long stretch of yellowed sand and rock. In the distance the desert colors changed to red and farther still a mountain range rose with snow-capped tips. Here and there, alien plants spotted the landscape but they grew scarcer the further the expedition ventured into the desert. It was a forbidding environment, a natural barrier to both manned and unmanned exploration. Nothing moved except whatever the breeze happened to pick up and push along. At the moment, there appeared to be no breeze at all so the only motion that could be detected was the dust raised by the passing of the vehicle. It was an ultra-dry environment with no indication of either running or standing water.
Kathleen asked about the external temperature and Minerva immediately replied, “Currently, desert floor temperature is thirty-seven degrees Celsius but that’s rising. We can expect a high this afternoon of at least forty-six. Be sure you keep yourselves hydrated.”
Harry thought about water and in his mind’s eye envisioned an underground lake, cool and still beneath the sands. When he looked at his reflection in its undisturbed surface, it wasn’t himself he saw. Rather, it was an alien face.
Minerva interrupted his reverie with an announcement. “I’m beginning to pick up broad scale interference. No problem with it just yet. I’ve adjusted my electronic filtering but may have to move communications bands. It’s probably just wave propagation, night to day temperature variations causing changes in atmospheric conditions, but I’ll keep an eye on it and make the necessary adjustments. Can you see me yet?”
At the moment, the truck was between dune
s and line of sight was limited.
“I’ll look for you at the top of the next rise,” said Kathleen. She glanced at the monitor that held a view of the sleeping compartment and saw Fagen and Bobbi wrapped around one another in one of the berths, both sound asleep. It made her smile but it also made her long for the days when she and Harry shared such moments.
The truck went up the side of a dune and as it made the crest, Kathleen saw Minerva hovering over a spot some two kilometers directly in their path. “There you are,” she said. “Be there in minutes.”
Harry leaned forward and grasped the joystick with his left hand while his right moved to the accelerator controls. “Minerva, remove the truck from autopilot and let me have it.”
“As you wish.” The change was abrupt. The vehicle accelerated and the ride became bumpier.
“This is not a good idea, Harry,” said Kathleen, clinging to handholds.
“Just trying to get a feel for it. She drives like a boat.” To illustrate the point, he made a sharp left hand turn and another right hand turn.
“See how it banks on the turns? That’s the magnetic dampeners. Makes us feel like we’re floating.” Harry took the crest of the next hill with twice the speed as the last and the vehicle came down with a jar. “Just like a boat,” Harry said, “going over waves.”
Fagen entered the cockpit. The lurching vehicle threw him to one side but he managed to snag a grip before he fell. “Harry, why are you driving?”
“Just testing the equipment. So far, Minerva’s been the only one to drive this thing and she drives like somebody’s grandmother. We’ve got half a click to go, so hang on.”
Fagen had no choice as Harry continued to push the vehicle. Anything that wasn’t attached flew around the cab. In another minute, they pulled to a stop under Minerva’s hull. Harry leaned back with a smile. “Now that was fun.” He unbuckled himself from the driver’s console and stood.
Kathleen watched Harry exit past Fagen. Fagen didn’t know what to say. He was just grateful the vehicle wasn’t wrecked although Harry did make a good point. None of them had ever driven the truck; they depended on Minerva much. If something went wrong, they’d better know how to drive for themselves. He looked at Kathleen.
“He was acting like himself again.”
“Yeh, reckless.”
*
Blane was less than enthusiastic about seeing the others so soon but Tringl and Yoni were overwhelmed except for an awkward moment when Kathleen called Arai by his given name, Yoni. He paused and visibly shrugged. Running to Harry, he leapt into Harry’s arms and hugged him with long, simian arms encircling Harry’s neck, then the same for Kathleen; Bobbi got a hug around the thighs as well as a kiss on the hand, and when Arai turned to Fagen, he extended his hand for a human shake. Respecting rank, the normally reserved Tringl went to Fagen first, placed a furry hand on Edward’s shoulder and bowed his head. He did the same thing to everyone but when he got to Harry, he placed not one hand on Harry’s shoulder, but both hands on both shoulders. When he bowed his head, his forehead met Harry’s and the greeting ceremony lasted longer than it had with the others. Looking Harry directly in the eyes, Tringl finally backed away. Harry looked more relaxed. “Thank you,” he said. Tringl grunted and moved away.
Blane asked Harry how he was doing. Harry seemed distracted for a moment but turned to face him. “Good. Really much better. Just then, with Tringl. He did something to me.”
Fagen’s attention was drawn to their conversation.
“What did he do?”
“I don’t know. I feel… good. That’s all.”
“Curative parapsychology of the Malaaz. Might be good for you to hang around with Tringl a few days, eh, what do you think?”
Harry nodded thoughtfully. Lowering his voice, he said, “I can help you, Edward. And I can help myself.”
Fagen leaned close. “What about last night, Harry? Want to come clean on that?”
Harry paused. A ripple of anger passed through his expression. “We’ve been through this already.”
“You’re not telling me everything and until you do you’re confined to the ship. To your quarters again, if necessary.”
“Listen to what you’re saying, Edward. You know if I wanted to, I could walk out of here any time I choose. I’m rational, lucid, admittedly distracted at times, but I’m here.” He tapped his chest with both hands.
Fagen said, “Okay Harry, we’ll see. Under the circumstances, that’s the best I can do. Stay the night aboard Minerva and let her take care of you. I want her to give you another once-over.”
Harry moaned.
Minerva’s voice floated from the rounded walls. “I’m here for you Harry.”
Edward held up a finger. “And one more thing: stick close to Tringl.”
At the mention of his name, Tringl came forward. Using clicks and guttural grunts from his own language as well as sign language, he indicated he knew they were talking about him. He casually put his arm around Harry’s shoulders. The visual effect was comic. Harry was a large, lean man with a serious demeanor. Tringl wasn’t a man at all; taller, much more round, with a fine orange fur growing over his entire body. A crop of bright orange bushy hair sprouted from his head. A loin cloth below barely concealed anatomy similar to a human’s as well as an abundance of curly, bright orange hair. Farther below, his feet were impossibly large and bare.
Fagen looked at Bobbi. “You know, just when you think Tringl has dozed off, he goes and does something like that.”
It was almost the middle of the day; the air was still and hot with an occasional light breeze if you happened to be standing at the top of a sand dune. There was little else to see besides sand and the occasional rock formation. In the distance, a mountain range formed a boundary as well as a constant source of water that fed underground rivers and aquifers. These facts had been known for some time through the initial mining surveys but details were sorely lacking.
Residents of Mirabel called the desert the Great Wahabi. Larger than Earth’s Sahara, it covered an area approaching 11,000,000 square kilometers stretching 5,000 kilometers east to west and 2,100 kilometers north to south. Rainfall was all but nonexistent but flash floods from melting glaciers sometimes created powerful, if short-lived, rivers that cut deeply through sand and rock resulting in a number of canyons and valleys. Nighttime temperatures often dropped below freezing while daytime temperatures sometimes rocketed above 57ºC. A sea of great sand dunes ran from the base of the mountains far into the desert with some appendages nearly traversing the entire distance across. It was within one these appendages that the truck and spacecraft presently rested. The remainder of the desert held great fields of stone plateaus and gravel surfaces.
Bobbi sat at the navigator’s position pouring over the sparsely detailed desert maps. The rest of the team gathered around her. She circled a small area on the map.
“This is where we are. It’s advisable to travel along these more flattened surfaces – we’ll be able to cover more ground.” She circled another area nine hundred kilometers to the northeast. “This is where Harry and Kathleen found their kitzloc lair. We have no idea about how many locations such as this might exist or even how many kitzloc there might be. Minerva says, given the lack of sightings and the unforgiving terrain, that there may be just a handful.” She looked at Harry. “Could be it’s a dying species.”
Harry shook his head in the negative. “The kitzloc is a thriving species but their numbers are small. They’ve managed to survive in this area for millions of years, long before primitive man began fashioning stone tools.”
Kathleen looked over Bobbi’s shoulder. “The question is, how are we going to find another lair?”
“I can do it,” said Harry.
“How?”
“I can smell them in the wind.”
No one said anything but the doubt among Fagen and the others was palpable. Finally Fagen spoke. “Can you show us a spot on the map where one of these pla
ces might be?”
“No,” Harry admitted, “not yet, but in time I will.”
Bobbi tapped the table thoughtfully. “What about Jennings? He’s supposed to be a guide of sorts, isn’t he?”
“After last night, I wonder if he’ll even show up at all,” said Kathleen.
“Oh, he’ll show all right. He’s all about profit. As far as how much he knows about the location of these things, well, it remains to be seen.”
“We don’t need his help,” Harry intoned.
“I beg to differ,” Fagen said flatly.
Harry fell silent.
“So how did you locate the lair before?” Bobbi asked.
Kathleen shrugged. “We set up automated viewing positions from low orbit and watched until we spotted tracks. Essentially, we followed it home. It took weeks of careful observation and planning and I wouldn’t want to have to do it again.”
Fagen ran a hand through the shock of grey hair on his head. “As soon as the air starts to cool, I want to unload the simulcons and field test each unit. If Jennings shows up as promised, maybe we’ll get some answers about where to find one or two of these things.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“We’ll manage.”
*
Minerva piped a simulcon remote feed into a console especially for Harry and that’s where he sat with Tringl dozing at his side. Blane and Minerva fitted Harry with a beanie containing electrodes designed to pick up brain wave activity. The outputs were beamed via wireless network from the spacecraft to the truck, specifically into one of the simulcon control consoles. As a result, Harry had his own simulcon to play with.
His monitor displayed whatever the simulcon saw. The simulcon had multiple cameras pointing in separate directions, in effect giving Harry a 360º view, with zoom options and accompanying audio. Such a view would have been strenuous even for the most ardent video game fan but Harry took to it as if he’d been controlling simulcons all his life. Presently, the robot stood in the space created by opened double doors in the side of the truck. At its feet was a ramp extending to the ground. Effortlessly, Harry willed the simulcon to move forward. The seven and half-foot tall drone stepped upon the ramp with a clang of metal upon metal. Another two steps and it stood on sandy ground. Harry looked at the sun balanced on the horizon. Minutes of daylight remained. He stepped to the gathered group of four simulcons.
