by Scott Rhine
****
During their time “building shelves” in the shed, Yuki put her left hand into a bag of synthetic power stones wrapped in foil to disrupt the Magi listening devices in her fingernails. Then she told her husband everything she and the doctor suspected. True to form, he didn’t bat an eye. Her final evidence of wrongdoing was, “During the last surge, when we were shuttered, a large quantity of water vanished from our reservoir. Only the Magi could have done it. I know they’ve broken the treaty, and if I could see inside the mountain, I could prove it.”
“I’m in.” With those two words, Park became her pillar of strength.
Yuki wrapped her arms around him. “No debate, just forward with the revolution?”
“Do it quickly, and I’ll cover with lots of sawing noise.”
She kissed him warmly. “More later.” She needed both hands for the work, so there was no speaking.
As he fiddled loudly, she ran power lines directly to the sensor array. Peeking through the slats in the shed, she aimed the device directly at the painting of Persephone. She couldn’t make out any void smaller than three meters wide, but what she did see on the screen made her jaw drop.
A huge, liquid-filled, conical chamber in the center of the mountain dominated the image. The barn access tunnel ran into a saucer shape atop the top of the reservoir. Another passage went straight up from there like a stovepipe, ending in the landing pad atop the Counterweight Mountain. Re-shielding her hand, she whispered, “There are kilotons of water hidden in there.”
“Makes sense,” Park said. “A waterfall comes out the top.”
She turned off the sensor before robots came to investigate. “But with that much, why steal more?”
Park scratched his head.
Yuki said, “Damn, I wish I had the COIL down here. We’d blow this wide open. I bet the Magi are hiding in that secondary command saucer, pulling the strings.”
“We don’t have a weapon, but we do have a torch custom-made to cut through slabs of shimmer armor. Risa built it and left it in the workroom,” Park said casually.
“You are so getting lucky tonight,” Yuki said with a gleam in her eye. “Wait. If I ever find something important, I can’t tell you about it on the air.”
“Use a code word, and I’ll know. I’ll bring witnesses right away. The Magi won’t cover up what you know again. Pick a word you don’t normally use,” Park said, panting.
Placing a hand down the front of his pants, she said, “Swell.”
****
Oleander found it difficult to act stealthy in front of a slow, heavy-lifting dune buggy. The huge, balloon tires and box-like suspension held a week’s worth of homemade bricks. Invisible, she placed the detectors at the edge of the canyon, high above the Gray village. The suns had just gone down, and they had all night, plus the dark of umbra the next day, to complete their task. “You have eyes on the target?” she asked Mercy.
“Roger,” Mercy replied. “Satellite and rover are both clear. No heat signatures. You may proceed.”
With the touch of a button, Oleander shut down the sneak suit to conserve battery power. She signaled ‘all clear’ to Nadia, who stood behind the sand crawler with the sniper rifle. “I feel like Santa,” Oleander said.
“It is mid-December,” Mercy noted. “I already have the saucer decorated.” Her friend was like the drummer for a rock band, keeping the entire crew centered on the Earth calendar.
“Old Nick is not so well armed,” Nadia joked. “There is a good, flat place on the rock over there. Sweep it off, and I will lay the foundation.”
“I’m not your maid,” Oleander complained. “Sweep it your damn self. I’ll unload the first layer.” Being this slob’s roommate was bad enough. There was no way she’d be her lackey as well.
“Place them in order!” snapped Nadia.
“She has the instruction manual printed on the back of the oven in Pandanese,” Oleander said, rolling the dune buggy closer. Picking up the first few bricks, she arranged them carefully on the ground. They had twenty-four hours to build the example kiln, but not many extra bricks.
“How precious,” Mercy said.
“Happy second wedding anniversary,” Oleander said. “Risa and Rachael wanted to wish you the same, but everyone here is working full-time on kilns, copper mines, or replanting.” Nadia wasn’t mentioned in the well-wishing, for she hated any talk of relationships. The connection crackled with static.
“We keep busy here, too,” Mercy said. “Lou spends half his waking hours on linguistics while Stu and I cook, feed the birds, or take care of the garden.”
“That last page Lou translated for us was pretty deep,” Nadia said, arranging the bricks. Soon they had a rhythm where Oleander removed the next brick and handed it to the layer. “Fertilizing crops with three different methods: poop, rotten leftovers, and dead things.”
“Translating complex concepts into Pandanese is harder than you think. We write at the level of our audience. We used Everybody Poops as a model,” Mercy admitted.
Laughing, Nadia said, “I know. I’m just giving you nitrogen. Each of these test farms is critical to our success. If the crops don’t do well, our gift won’t propagate.”
The women worked in silence for a while, Mercy keeping watch. When the satellite crossed to the other hemisphere, Oleander would scout Out-of-body. Until then, they needed to unload as fast as possible.
“Wait, Oleander, what did you mean earlier by replanting?” Mercy asked.
Huffing, she and Nadia unloaded one of the two large stones delimiting the opening for the wood box on the bottom. Once the second heavy stone was in place, Oleander said, “The crops from Earth didn’t do as well as we expected. Things that weren’t in a greenhouse tended to die off in the extreme environment. We’re going to risk planting native wild rice by the riverbed this season. The root vegetables did okay, but those tend to soak up abnormal amounts of native minerals.”
“Are you going to have enough to eat?” Mercy asked like a worried mother. “We just had our harvest, and we’re willing to share.”
“We have plenty, plus fresh meat and cheese. Johnny’s finding ways to filter the excess minerals while Toby crafts some hybrid crops.”
“I thought Toby was crafting genetically modified yeast for better wine,” Mercy said.
“Cancelled in favor of the rules of strength,” Oleander explained. “Don’t worry, though, he’ll get it done before we need it for bread. Somehow having Yvette nearby makes him work faster. Meanwhile, Nadia and I are building prototype kilns, one for each major tribe.”
Mercy said, “I thought we could only give an idea to one person.”
Oleander replied, “But each page has three paragraphs. This one is designed to fire bricks. Kind of like the chicken and the egg, right? We’re building the brick kiln out of the bricks it makes. I’d like to be here when they puzzle that one out. We have a smaller camp-stove model and a pottery version for the other tribes.”
“Nadia’s good at this bricklaying stuff,” Mercy said as the woman applied a level to the foundation.
“Yeah, we noticed that when we were constructing the base. She says the knack runs in her family—her mom was a building contractor who specialized in ceramic tile. If only Nadia were this anal about our room,” Oleander said pointedly as she handed her roommate another brick.
“Nag, nag, nag,” the Russian engineer spat.
Mercy said, “We have another surge shutdown planned for Sanctuary in three days, so I won’t be here to referee.”
After another period of silence, the kiln took shape to the top on the firebox. “This is hard part. Together,” Nadia said, dragging one end of a thick, rectangular stone.
Soon, the dune buggy was empty.
“Let me see the back side,” Mercy asked, so Oleander pointed her helmet camera that direction. “Um . . . the stones are in reverse order.”
Nadia cursed until Mercy said, “Just joking.”
Oleand
er pointed and laughed. “Good one. You should see her face.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to find out now instead of after it’s done?” Mercy asked.
“Nyet,” said Nadia. “We have no time for mistakes. Let us return to brick pile for the remainder. The people in the copper mine already want this transport. They blame me for their falling behind.”
“Next time the crew wakes up, I’ll let Z know you guys need more bodies. What’s Yvette doing now? I’m not allowed to talk to her.”
Oleander said, “She’s the evil one’s minion.”
“What?” Mercy asked.
“Toby is testing out animal tranquilizers, types and dosages, on our native friends. He spikes their food and then she analyzes their urine afterward,” Oleander said. “A variant of ketamine seems to be the winner so far.”
“How does she get them to volunteer for that, let alone pee in a cup?”
“When they don’t have the skills we want and aren’t sent from Pacino—”
“He prefers Godspeaker Shuulagar,” Mercy corrected.
“Yeah, whatever. We remotely open a box and give them as much apple cider as they want. The urine comes out when Herk Über-Tasers them. We had to supersize the human version to knock them out. It takes four of us to haul one of those heavy moochers past the perimeter. We shave and tattoo their asses to mark them as troublemakers. Repeat offenders have their face cheeks shaved—very embarrassing for a male. We haven’t had a third strike yet.”
“I still say we should do the anal probes or the plastic cones around their necks like we do to shame the dogs,” Nadia volunteered.
“I can’t take you out in public,” Oleander moaned.
“Can we do that to them?” Mercy asked. “We’re supposed to be helping the pandas.”
Oleander sighed. “Yeah. Shuulagar is the one who suggested the punishments. Yvette has raised other ethical issues, claiming we’re creating a bunch of alcoholics. I told her I didn’t decide on the gifts.”
“Maybe . . . Zeiss . . . Radiation . . . breaking up . . .” Mercy said between hisses and digital squeaks. The last words they heard that shift were, “Play nice.”
Chapter 37 – Death Spiral
During flares, not much work could be accomplished in Olympus, so Yuki played with Stu over lunch while Mercy and Lou celebrated their second wedding anniversary. At fifteen months, the child’s favorite pastime was stacking wooden blocks and teething on the long orange ones. The little boy was a flirt and a joy, making Yuki sad she had opted for sterilization. While the toddler was down for his nap, Yuki paid a visit to the shed. Using the key from Mercy’s lab coat, she powered up the high-resolution gravity sensors again, trying to get more details on access to the command cave.
The water levels were lower. Hours before the ship had shuttered for the radiation surge, the water reserves had been steady. The flares of Daedalus were linked to the depletion somehow. She had to tell the others.
Turning off the sensors, Yuki drew a map and wrote a note on a nearby crate by dipping her untagged forefinger in a can of leftover blue paint.
Use shimmer cutter from shop on Persephone in barn to find caves where Magi hide.
Plato
Wiping her finger clean on a diaper, Yuki slapped the all-hands broadcast button. “Sorry to interrupt date night, but we have a small emergency. Someone stuffed a lima bean up his nose, and it’s swelling. I couldn’t find the right tools in the shed, so I’m bringing Stu to Olympus.” She emphasized the variation of her code word. Hopefully, the Magi wouldn’t just kick her off the ship as they had Yvette.
As she reached to turn off the lights in the shed, Yuki noticed a folded stack of fabric—the memistor weave that Elias Fortune had sent on the mission. It contained more than the Library of Congress—the closest the billionaire could get to the sum total of human knowledge, including the double-naught files. Lou had been using it for linguistics research. If Yuki were exiled to the copper mines, the memory cloth would come in handy. She casually picked it up and used the exotic fabric to wrap the sleeping Stu.
When Yuki arrived at the patio outside the saucer, she paused. The airlock was wide open, but she didn’t want to step inside because Snowflake could freeze anyone in the command area at will.
Zeiss, Red, Park and Sojiro sat outdoors in patio chairs, gathered around the round table. Yuki took care to stand behind Red’s chair so the command crew didn’t recognize the fabric wrapped around the child.
“Stu doesn’t seem too traumatized,” Zeiss noted.
“He fell asleep on the way,” Yuki said. “What’s the big meeting about?”
Park explained, “The copper mine is behind schedule, and we’re considering a replacement gift to stay on track.”
“I think copper may rely on numbers,” Zeiss said.
Red read from her slate. “This is the lesson of pure water. Water is the cornerstone of life. But the river is wild and can cause sickness. You can tame the river by boiling.”
Sojiro interrupted. “I like this page because the panda word for boil is an onomatopoeia—bloop-baloop.”
Red continued. “Boil water whenever people use it. Always make pure first: when you drink, when you wash your hands before you eat, and must-must when you clean your wounds.”
Zeiss said, “No. To boil water, they need a copper or tin container.”
“We could make the same argument about some wine recipes,” Sojiro said. “Yvette wants to cut wine, too.”
“What’s next on the list?”
Sighing, Red said, “For the coming year, we’ve planned parchment, plows, tin, charcoal, and ceramics.”
Shaking his head, Zeiss said, “Push tin till the end of the year. If copper took this long, that’s going to need more lead time as well. We could pull in crop rotation.”
“No, the mindset for fertilization hasn’t cemented in the panda consciousness yet,” Red countered. “Someone taught them slash and burn, and we have to get rid of that evil first. Risa wants ceramics mainly for shingles and pipes—both plumbing and glassblowing.”
Passionately, Sojiro said, “They need more concepts, not conveniences. What about abolition, no more infanticide, or rules against rape?”
Yuki said, “Why not all three? They could each be a paragraph example, combined under an umbrella that couches the concept in a masculine way.”
“It is the responsibility of the strong to protect the weak,” Zeiss said.
Sojiro nodded. “I like that. We’ll work up a first draft and present it once we’re back in contact with Labyrinth.”
Hearing Yuki’s voice, Auckland ventured out into the late afternoon air. “I see my little patient has arrived.” Holding up a pair of forceps, he clacked them to demonstrate his readiness to remove the mythical bean from Stu’s nostril.
Yuki looked straight at Park. “It’s gone further than we thought. The swelling is worse.”
“When did that happen?” Auckland asked, confused by the emphasis. The others stopped their conference around the table to stare at the odd drama.
“As soon as the flare began again,” Yuki replied.
Auckland came to examine the child, only to realize that there was nothing wrong with the sleeping toddler. He took possession of the boy, and Yuki kept the fabric.
Park blinked as something occurred to him. “According to stardrive theory, synchrotron radiation could weaken the gravity-containment fields around the habitat. The same field would take more energy to maintain during surges.”
Only Zeiss seemed to follow this babble. “That’s where all the water has been going. Each flare, the generators have to work harder.”
Red wrinkled her brow. “That can only continue for so long. Eventually, the habitat will be unable to maintain and collapse inward. Once begun, that sequence is a death spiral. We’d be dead in a couple years.” Zeiss shared a look with her that said he’d come to the same conclusion. Everyone grew quiet.
Park said timidly, “What if we str
etch the orbit wider so we’re in the radiation zone less?”
“We’d have to make the loop at least twenty times longer to have a prayer of finishing the test and escaping,” Red said.
Zeiss sighed. “We wouldn’t be able to communicate with Elysium very well. Our part in the gifts would be reduced to an advisory role once a year.”
“Other than Lou, none of us are contributing much now,” Red admitted. “At the same time, it takes more and more eavesdropping to get each new word.”
“We could still help with the harvests,” Sojiro offered.
“Actually, with the reduced irrigation and our current surplus stored in the caves, the Llewellyns will really only need us once a year for the rice crop,” Zeiss said.
Red looked from person to person. “As nonessential personnel, we could all be frozen for the other fifty-one weeks a year.”
“Creepy,” Sojiro said.
Decided on this course of action, Zeiss began filling in details. “Personal allotments on the fabricators will no longer accrue, but you can put in departmental requisitions.”
Yuki felt terror boil up in her gut. The Magi might not wake them after a year. As irrelevant crew, Snowflake might keep them frozen until the ship crashed. After a moment of panic, her natural survival skills kicked in. Looking at the memory fabric in her hands, Yuki realized she had been plotting escape for the past hour. She had to get herself and her husband out of this hostage situation. First, she needed an excuse to fly to the surface without triggering Magi suspicions. “We’re not all useless. I think Pratibha’s management skill can break the logjam Labyrinth is having with copper.”
“I’d get lonely without her,” Auckland admitted.
“You’ll be frozen,” Zeiss said.
Red nodded. “Then they can build a launcher on Elysium and send us frozen water whenever we’re close.”
