Children of the Divide
Page 30
“Combative with you? How unprecedented, my friend.”
“Fine, even more combative than the baseline average. We expect it out of hormone-poisoned human teenagers–”
“Still sitting in the cabin,” Sakiko said.
“–but we’re kinda in uncharted territory with Benexx,” Benson continued, ignoring her.
Kexx chuckled. It wasn’t even a human affectation ze’d picked up. From the very beginning, laughter was the one thing the two races hadn’t needed translated for each other, a fact that had probably saved an awful lot of misunderstandings and violence over the ensuing years. “Cuut endowed our adolescents with all the tools they would need to break the bonds of family and get thrown out of the hut, too. They just do it a couple of years earlier. When the community finds their behavior completely intolerable, they’re put through the Rite of Hulukam.”
“What’s that?”
“We kick them out of the village and don’t let them back in until it looks like they’re about to starve. Usually takes a Var or so. The elders say it’s to help the youth find their spiritual center, but really it’s to get them to stop being such self-centered little dux’ah shits. Bearers like Benexx aren’t usually as bad as the rest, but they’re hardly immune.”
“That’s certainly one solution,” Benson said. “Not sure I can sell Theresa on it, though. Right now, all I want it to get zer back.”
“We will,” Kexx said. “If we have to shake down Xis zerself for clues, we will.”
Benson turned his attention forward. The mining site was coming up on the horizon. While it wasn’t the environmentally destructive open-pit or stripmining operation so popular among consortiums on old Earth, its footprint was still significant enough to spot from several klicks out. Benson opened his plant to get a feel for the site. Mostly automated, like the rest. A little over two dozen people on scene to play shepherd to the mining equipment. Most of them human techs, but a handful of Atlantian laborers and an elder to consecrate everything and make sure Xis was properly attended to under their traditions. It was zer body they were plundering, after all.
There wasn’t anything particularly interesting about the mine itself. Of those operating on the continent, it was mid-sized, extracting necessary but unsexy ores of iron, copper, and aluminum, with only traces of tungsten for variety. The most prestigious mining assignments were all in Atlantis, where a fluke of geology and the Atlantians’ peculiarly sensible social priorities meant they’d only recently turned to excavation after running out of gold nuggets in dry riverbeds to pick up by hand.
“We should probably give them a ring. Let them know we’re incoming in fifteen minutes or so.”
“Roger that,” Korolev said, then closed his eyes to bring up his plant’s com directory. “Hmm. That’s weird.”
“What is?” Benson asked.
“Well, the camp’s nav beacon is showing up strong enough, but I can’t get anybody on coms.”
“They’re not answering?”
“No, there’s no connection at all, like their local network is down.”
Benson opened his own directory and tried to connect with identical results. “That is weird. Down for maintenance or updates?”
“I suppose it could be…”
“You been out here yet, Pavel?”
“Yeah, couple years ago. Not long after the site got up and running.”
“What was the call for?”
“Some domestic bullshit between two of the workers. Took me and another constable to physically separate them.”
“Who was at fault?”
Korolev snorted. “No telling. They were both nuts, fed off each other. Just a really ill-advised pairing, you know?”
Benson nodded. “Been in a couple of those. Sex was usually amazing. Never worth it in the end, though.”
“Ew,” Sakiko wrinkled her nose. “Child onboard, remember?”
“Child? You’re eighteen in what, three months?”
“Four. And I won’t want to hear about your sexual history then, either.”
Benson smiled and returned to Korolev. “What was your impression of the site foreman?”
“Ms Lind? Hardnose. No nonsense. She was one of the first wildcats out this far. Built a house all by herself at night while surveying the area for the mine during the day. Good lady, doesn’t have a lot of patience for stupidity. She had those two I mentioned earlier transferred out of her mine to opposite sides of the planet by the end of the week.”
“So not somebody you’d expect to let a terrorist cell operate with impunity under her supervision?”
“Yeah, no.”
“Roger that.”
The quadcopter slowed to a hover over the mining site’s modest landing field, then spooled down its electric motors to come in for a silky smooth landing. Benson was still not a fan of flying, and he’d been intensely apprehensive about being taxied around in the little autonomous eggs for quite a few years after landing. But the autopilot had never failed, and had even seen him safely through a couple of the nasty seasonal squalls that Gaia’s coasts kicked up without warning.
Still, his stomach thanked him as soon as the soles of his feet settled into dirt again. Korolev hopped out on the other side and grabbed his gear off one of the rear seats. A quick weapon check later and he was squared away.
“The operations shack is on the far side of the compound, over there.” Korolev pointed to the northeast, but all Benson could see were lavender trees. “Lind will either be in there or down in the mine itself.”
“I don’t see it.”
“It’s up on the ridge overlooking the mine, just behind the treeline for shade. Follow me.”
They walked up a well-worn dirt path in silence. Benson noticed Korolev’s rifle had migrated from his shoulder and down into a low-ready position. Not out of fear of any of the mine’s workers, but out of caution for the half dozen different critters out here who still regarded humans and Atlantians alike as a viable source of protein. This far from Shambhala, true wilderness was never more than a football field away, and fifteen years of experience hadn’t been enough to fundamentally rewire millions of years of instinct among the local carnivores.
They weren’t the only troublesome creatures that called the forest home. “Ow!” Benson called out as he slapped something on the back of his neck. It went crunch, then fell away. Benson wiped the greenish goo onto his pants. “What the hell was that?”
Kexx nudged the dead bug with a toe. “Don’t know, never seen one before. Nasty piece of work, though. Oh, and you’re bleeding.”
Benson touched a finger to the burning spot on his neck. Sure enough, it came back with a dot of crimson. “Dammit! Why do they always find me?”
“It’s not because you’re made of sugar and spice, that’s for sure,” Korolev said. “The operations shed is just around the bend up here.”
The shed was a modest prefabricated affair. It was a standard, four-room administrative design, probably airlifted by shuttle and dropped in place already fully assembled and ready to go to work. The small com array on the roof looked intact enough, leaving the mystery of their radio silence open for the moment. But it wasn’t the only kind of silence that caught Benson’s attention.
“Pavel,” Benson said.
“Yeah, coach?”
“This is a mine, yes?”
“Last time I was here, yes.”
“Then why isn’t there any noise?”
Korolev stopped dead and swiveled his head around, as if taking in the scene for the first time. “Holy shit, you’re right. It’s dead quiet. There should be drills, mine carts, skid loaders.”
“Maybe everyone’s on break?” Sakiko said, her hand suddenly gripping the handle of her dagger instead of resting on top of it.
Korolev shook his head. “This place is almost entirely automated. The machines work around the clock unless one of them breaks something important. The people are just here to troubleshoot.”
Benson grabbed his sidearm and double-checked to make sure a round was chambered. Its little stun rounds wouldn’t do much against a determined carnivore, but they had just dropped a notch on his threat spectrum.
“The first one of you wise asses to say, ‘It’s quiet. Too quiet,’ is getting a stunner in the neck.”
“That’s fair,” Korolev answered.
They reached the door of the ops shack. Benson stepped forward and gave it a big knock to announce their arrival, but as soon as he did the door swung inward from the contact. Benson jumped back half a step, first thinking someone had pulled the door open from the inside. Korolev’s rifle went from low ready to shouldered in an instant.
“Hello? I’m Bryan Benson. I’m here with Constable Korolev and representatives from Atlantis.”
Silence.
“We’re looking for Foreman Lind. We just have a few questions for her. Hello?” Benson looked back at Korolev and Kexx and made a palms up shrug. “Stack up?”
“Roger,” Korolev answered. “I’ve got the big broom, I’ll go first.”
“Broom?” Kexx asked.
Korolev patted his rifle. “Yeah, it can really clean out a room.”
“I see.” Kexx turned to zer young apprentice. “Sakiko, you will go behind Benson. I will be our tail.”
Sakiko, uncharacteristically, nodded and obeyed without comment. The four of them took places along the outside wall of the ops shack. Once everyone was in position, Korolev held up three fingers for their countdown. Two. One. His arm dropped back down to his rifle as Korolev surged for the door and kicked it the rest of the way open enough to swing it back into the wall, proving no one hid behind it and sweeping his half of the room. Benson hadn’t run any room-clearing exercises in more than fifteen years, and they’d never featured firearms back then, only stun sticks. But as soon as he started moving, it all came flooding back. He entered the building right on Korolev’s heels, sidearm out and his eyes sighted in along the front post, looking for anything in his half of the room that scanned as dangerous.
“Clear left,” Korolev called.
“Clear right,” Benson answered.
They repeated the process twice more for the small breakroom/kitchen, and the conference room. The final room was a small unisex bathroom that required only a cursory peek from the door to prove it was unoccupied.
“Is it just the two doors in and out of here?” Benson asked.
“Yeah,” Korolev said.
“Will you go watch the front door for me? Sakiko, can you watch the back?”
“I guess.”
“Thanks. If anyone, or anything tries to come in, do not engage them. Just shout your head off and fall back here.”
Sakiko made her way to the back door without complaint.
Benson looked at Kexx. “She’s awfully quiet. What’s wrong with her?”
“Ze’s nervous. Ze doesn’t like to show it, but I can tell. This place has zer spooked.”
“She’s got plenty of company, there.” Benson looked around the office/reception area. “Do a walkthrough with me, will you?”
“This is a human building, what am I looking for?”
“Same thing as always, old friend. Whatever I’m not looking for.”
The building had power, so it wasn’t a disruption in the solar grid or batteries that had brought down the network. Benson went to the desk and tried to access the computer terminal, but it was locked out.
A few seconds later, the login page disappeared, replaced by the system’s interface.
“Well that’s ominous as hell…” The mine’s machinery had apparently gone into automatic shutdown two days ago when one of the ore haulers had a breakdown along the main tunnel, blocking traffic and preventing operations from going forward. That explained the silence.
Benson opened the network interface and ran a diagnostic to try and find the connectivity issue, but it threw an error code he’d never seen before. Changing directions, he dug back into the archived data and read a few of the most recent entries from Foreman Lind. It all seemed pretty normal. A tech calling in sick, griping up the logistical chain about delays in repair parts for one of her mining drone rigs. Exactly the sort of day-to-day minutiae one would expect to crop up running an industrial operation. On a hunch, Benson copied the last two months’ worth of entries and saved them to his plant to review later anyway.
Out of habit, Benson flicked open Lind’s calendar, just for a peek. It was much the same as her messages and log entries. Work rotations, preventative maintenance schedules, production quota projections. Lind had an eye for detail and obviously ran a tight ship. So then where the hell was she? Benson’s stomach churned with the same slightly nauseous feeling he had during the Laraby investigation, after he’d gone missing but before Benson had recovered the body floating a few klicks away from the Ark. His fear was this mystery wasn’t going to end any happier.
But at the same time, he was certain now that he was on the right track to finding Benexx. And there wasn’t a damned thing in Heaven or Gaia that was going to shake him loose of the scent now.
An item on the calendar jumped out at him. He’d overlooked it scrolling past, but an unfamiliar word leapt out at him a moment later. He scrolled back to read the day’s notes. It was dated two weeks before the parade.
* * *
Wednesday, 14th: Atlantians have asked off for Chumincha holiday (sp?). Push back breaking ground on Tunnel 3a until 16th when the elder returns to perform necessary blessings for Xis.
* * *
Benson scratched his chin. He’d been working with and living around Atlantians for fifteen years now. He was lucky to call several of their number close friends. In all that time, he’d never heard of any holiday called Chumincha, Chimichanga, or any close approximation of it. And he didn’t remember so much as a peep coming from any of his players two weeks ago, or from anyone in the Native Quarter, for that matter.
“Hey, Kexx,” Benson called out. “C’mere a minute.”
Kexx’s oblong head appeared through the doorway from the breakroom. “Yes? Did you find something?”
“Not sure if I did. Is there an Atlantian holiday called…” Benson referred back to the calendar, “Chumincha? Chumin’cha? Anything like that?”
“Er…” Kexx stumbled. “I don’t think so. What time of year?”
“Two weeks ago.”
Kexx shook zer head in the exaggerated way ze always did when imitating human gestures. “No, definitely not.”
“Not even a Dweller thing?”
“No,” Kexx said with finality. “I can’t speak for the customs of the nomadic clans, but I’ve spent enough time among the Dwellers by now to know their sacred days.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. The nomads still haven’t sent any of their elders, have they?”
Kexx’s skinglow fluttered the Atlantian equivalent of a shrug. “Not officially. Some have probably filtered through as refugees, of course. But nothing openly. They still don’t even have an ambassador in G’tel, much less Shambhala. Messages are passed through traders, runners when the need is urgent.”
“Yeah, figured that’s what you were going to say.” Benson sighed and laced his fingers under his chin.
“What are you thinking, old friend?” Kexx asked.
“I’m thinking that someone made up a fake holiday and tricked Foreman Lind into giving them a little convenient time off to build bombs and organize an attack. I don’t suppose you know the eld
er who’s stationed here to consecrate the dig, do you?”
“Sadly, no. I can tell you who’s been posted at the active mines in Atlantis, but there’s too much going on over here to keep track of.”
“That’s OK, we can look zer up later. Right now, I really think we need to get down to the mine and have a look around.”
Kexx swept an arm towards the door. “After you, partner.”
Benson pulled everyone out of the shed and grabbed his hand torch out of his pack. He turned to Korolev. “How do we get down to the mine entrance?”
His friend pointed towards the other trail leading away from the shed and their quadcopter. “Down that way. It’s not far.”
Around the back of the hill, the main mine tunnel came into view. Several yellow-painted, dirt-streaked pieces of equipment sat idly just outside the mouth of the tunnel, waiting for the blockage to be cleared so they could resume their pre-programmed work. One of the loaders overflowed with blasted rock that had yet to be dumped into the processor. The ore in this mine was so rich that Benson could see coppery flecks with his naked eye. Compared to Earth, Gaia’s crust was light in heavy metals. The Tau Ceti system was more than a billion years older than Sol had been, and came from an earlier generation of stars that were metal poor by comparison.
But unlike Earth after millennia of mining, Gaia’s crust was virgin, and even the lower quality ore was drastically richer than the rocks with traces of one percent or less by weight that remained on Earth after nearly its entire surface had been picked over.
At this early stage, the mines were still following rich veins of ore concentrated over millions of years of geologic activity. The ugly, destructive open-pit mines of the past weren’t necessary. At least not yet.
The tunnel was a good four meters wide, more than enough for all of them to walk abreast, but still just barely enough clearance for the machines. It was also black as charcoal. The machines all used lidar and GPS to get around, and people were seldom in the mine, so there had been no sense in lighting the tunnels. Benson really wished they had anyway. The cone of light from his hand torch was adequate, however. And it was accompanied by the light on Korolev’s rifle, as well as Kexx’s skinglow, on the front of zer body, at least.