As it became necessary to visit the other capitals, I would have to sneak in the work crews and equipment in advance. I was determined not to chop another cord of wood, or take another cold sponge bath, or worst of all, use another "outhouse"!
To the women, of course, the most important reason for our return to Adventurer was to get measured and supplied with bras. Well, I had to admit that Haven's version of the garments looked more like harnesses or medieval torture devices than clothing, especially in the larger sizes. We also picked up samples of the material, and an assortment of various styles and sizes of Jane’s selection, as well as a printed copy of the details of production of the synthetic and its products; another printing job for Heidi's printer.
I also wanted to talk to Ollie. It was time to decide whether to trust him completely, or not. With Toray becoming more and more hostile, I was going to have to depend on Ollie, and I very much wanted to make certain that I could depend upon him in an emergency. So, while the women were busy huddling with Jane over underwear, I sought out Ollie and, after both Jane and Lisa checked for listening devices, I began telling him what I was doing and why.
He wasn't surprised, of course; he simply nodded. "Good. I'm glad to hear you're taking action. Please don't give me details; I don't want to possess information valuable enough to justify torture." He grinned. "I now have a full set of teeth, and excellent hearing and vision; I don't want to endanger them.
"But I might as well tell you that I've also been making preparations. I'm afraid the Chancellor has become little more than an agent of King David, at least in any matter not directly related to the daily operations of the University or the twisting of arms for donations. I would not put it past him to suggest that I might have knowledge of you."
I nodded. "I understand. But I need to tell you that I think you're right; eventually, King David will find a way to get armed men into orbit. I've been making plans for that eventuality, and I need to brief you on your part in those plans.
"You're spending most of your time up here, now, so chances are you will be up here when we learn that they're coming. The most important thing you will need to do is to evacuate Adventurer, and to do it as quickly as possible. I plan to do everything possible to prevent or delay King David's access to the ship. It will take about two hours for a lander to reach Adventurer. By that time we need to have everyone off her, so I can secure all her exterior doors and begin shutting down life support."
Ollie nodded soberly. "I understand. " He paused, and then grinned. "Since we are bringing more and more people aboard a 500-year-old ship, I think it would be irresponsible not to prepare for possible emergencies."
He was lost in thought for a moment, and then jerked a nod. "Yes. I think we need to maintain a constant record of everyone aboard. After all, we never know when this old ship will spring a leak or something, and we must have an up-to-date list of the people aboard.
"I also think we must begin holding evacuation drills. Oh, yes. I can see we have been careless, risking the lives of everyone aboard. I'll issue instructions immediately. Of course, I'll have to run them through Chancellor Toray, but with his small understanding of space matters, I doubt that will be a problem."
I nodded. "And I'll try to make certain that enough landers are available in the hangar deck to evacuate everyone aboard. at least for now. Later, when you have a thousand or so students, that may not be possible; but for now, it's not a problem. You'll simply have to keep Lisa informed of arrivals and departures.
"Actually, my main concern is the New Home agents aboard. If they are alerted, and they will be, they will do all they can to delay or prevent the evacuation. I don't know whether they're aware of it or not, but Jane — uh, 'Erna' — will not shut down life support if there is even one unprotected human aboard."
Ollie nodded. "So it will be my job to make certain that no one hides out to avoid evacuation."
I nodded. "Erna can locate any human aboard, and flood the area he's in with sleep gas; but you'll need people you can trust to get them and bring them to the hangar deck for evacuation.
"Please understand, Ollie, these are all delaying tactics to give the governments on the planet time to interfere. Eventually, they will get aboard, but it will take them time to learn how to gain access and how to reactivate life support. It will take over 48 hours for life support to completely shut down, and even longer for them to bring the ship back up to a breathable atmosphere and livable temperature.
"But it's vital that we give the governments as much time as possible to react. If you can get everyone off in, say, an hour, Erna will have time to secure all external hatches and begin shutting down life support before the invaders get here."
I frowned. "I also need to warn you that it might be wise to find yourself a way out of the International Zone as quickly as possible after you ground. If they don't get me, they may decide you might know my whereabouts." I frowned as a thought occurred to me. "In fact, suppose instead of landing in the Zone, in case of evacuation we have the landers ground in one of the capital cities? Especially if we don't use Firstlanding, you'll almost certainly have time to slip away before the nosies get there."
Ollie smiled. "Thank you, Jerd. I've made a few tentative arrangements myself, but that sounds like a marvelous idea. Even if the, uh. 'nosies' get there quickly, we won't be in New Home’s hands."
I felt much better having warned Ollie, and having arranged for evacuation drills. By the time we left Adventurer with our full workboat, the women were chattering happily over their hoard of bras, and we were ready to begin our foray into the world of business.
Ollie shook his head. "You must be certain you can be back in a few days. We'll be ready to institute full life support in five days, and there is much that must be done to prepare for it. You must be prominent in those preparations, or people will begin asking questions."
I nodded. "I understand. I should be back in no more than four days. But I have some very important business meetings to attend; important to me, and more importantly, important to Haven!"
Firstlanding had a very different feel than Cellia City; stiffer, more hurried, less polite. Beneath their coat of grime, the buildings showed little of the style reflected in Cellia City's architecture. In Firstlanding, the attitude was grimly all business.
By the time we got to the city from the lighthouse, I was wondering if I stopped Heidi too soon. The train ride was long and smoky, the rail line older and rougher-riding. I wondered aloud whether there was a way to station a blimp at the lighthouse.
Ellie shook her head , and snorted. "Oh, yeah, that would be inconspicuous: a hangar big enough to blow away in the first real storm, and a nice, colorful explosion when lightning hits your hydrogen storage tank!" I spent the rest of the trip in a sulky silence.
Kel Sarbo didn't look like Haven's richest man. Actually, he looked like a retired bookkeeper, skinny, bespectacled, and bent. A few strands of white hair trailed across his otherwise bald pate. He was also gruff and impatient and turned a vicious glare on Ellie before turning to me expectantly. He obviously had strong opinions about women and business, but he was too smart to voice them. He caressed the sample as though it were a pet, and leafed through the sample book with an eagerness he tried to conceal. But he waved away my explanation of the bidding procedure. "Bah! Nonsense! Just set your price, young man. I've no time for foolishness!"
I shook my head. "I'm sorry, Messer Sarbo, but Messer Carver's instructions were most explicit and firm. You may participate or not, as you choose, but the winner of the auction will be the one who receives the advantages I just mentioned."
The old man glared at me over the tops of his eyeglasses. I was getting used to seeing the things now, but they still irritated me. Sarbo shook his head. "Stuff and nonsense. I'll not be a party to such goings-on. I'm a businessman, not a gambler. Tell that to your precious spaceman!"
I bowed in my seat. "As you wish, sire. Please keep the sample and the materials in
case you change your mind. We, or someone else, will return in 30 days for your decision."
"You already have my decision. Take your toys and get out!"
I shrugged. "As you wish, sire." I gathered up the sample and printed materials silently, my temper under tight control.
At lunch, Ellie tried to cheer me up. "Ten crowns the old man changes his mind and wants back in," she offered.
I shook my head with a weak grin. "Actually, I rather hope not. He has enough money to win, and I would hate to have to deal with him again."
But actually, I was getting rather concerned. Two out of three of our prospects had rejected us. All I could hope was that the President of Dr. Aram's Teas and Juices would be more hospitable; or at least more polite in his rejection.
But our appointment wasn't until the next morning, which left us the afternoon for sightseeing.
Firstlanding Park was well-maintained, with a large carefully-barbered lawn surrounding an obelisk marking the site of the first lander's touchdown on Haven over 500 years before, and the remains of a partially-built landing cradle. The attached museum was a large octagonal structure. It was only when you entered that you realized that it housed the original colony's entire Administration dome. It was likewise lovingly tended, its artifacts carefully labeled with neat, hand-printed sheets accompanying each piece. I wondered if the old Administrator's terminal and the few dozen tablets in the collection would still work if Adventurer began once more broadcasting power.
The trouble was that it made me feel guilty. Adventurer was full of what these people were calling "treasures". A cracked, chipped caf cup became an object of veneration, though the ship carried thousands of them. Nearly every item in their museum was easily available aboard Adventurer. Well, okay, that cup belonged to Captain Gold, but compared with the personal effects we'd boxed up and stowed from Gold's cabin, this cup was nothing. Finally I could take it no longer, and asked to speak with the curator.
"I'm afraid I'm a bit confused," I began. "I've been aboard Adventurer on a work crew. A lot of the things you treasure here are common there. Have you spoken with the University's Chancellor about gaining some new exhibits for your museum?"
The man, a tall, portly version of Ollie, sighed and shook his head. "The Chancellor won't take my calls. I'm afraid I made some rather regrettable remarks when I was on his staff at New Home University …"
I nodded. "I see. Perhaps I can help." I wrote an address on the back of one of the exhibit cards. The curator frowned, but didn't complain. I was sure that in a few moments he wouldn't mind. "Send a radio message to this address. It's Doctor Ollar Canva, the Vice Chancellor of the University. He is spending most of his time aboard Adventurer, getting her ready for students, while the Chancellor is occupied with matters of finance and administration. That means it may take a few days for Dr. Canva to reply, but be sure to include your own contact information. I'm certain that Doctor Canva will be much more receptive."
The man's gratitude was almost embarrassing. "Tell Dr. Canva that Tre Lordan asked you to call. Dr. Canva is an educated man, one who knows the value of history. I'm certain he will be willing to help. He may even be able to arrange for you to actually board Adventurer."
It took us a while to extricate ourselves from the effusively grateful curator. As soon as we could find some privacy, I pulled out my tablet and called Ollie. I explained that he would be hearing from the curator.
Ollie grinned. His image showed that his gray hair was growing out, replaced by a mousy brown. And his face was firming and tightening. The nano were hard at work. "Wonderful! I've actually been thinking that we need an experienced historian to go through all this stuff and sort the important treasures from the common objects. This man sounds like just what we need!"
I shook my head. "Maybe, Ollie. But don't forget that there are museums in the other nations, too. All of them will dying to get artifacts. You might even be able to get them into a bidding war on the best pieces."
"I'm afraid that's more Chancellor Toray's style than mine," Ollie replied,. "But you've lectured me enough about making sure everyone gets a fair share to convince me. I promise I'll put out the word fairly."
"Thanks, Ollie. I'm sorry to have bothered you, but I wanted to make sure you wouldn't say 'who?' when he told you Tre Lordan referred him to you."
Ollie nodded. "I'll watch for his message. We've been working on a way to get our radio to connect to New Home’s largest telephone system. We haven't been completely successful, but we keep trying."
I paused. Our visit to the museum had rekindled my interest in learning what had happened when the ship arrived, and why she was still in orbit. Oh, there was a lot of narrative in the labels of the artifacts, but it all assumed a knowledge that was taught in Haven's schools. And Jane contained thousands of hours of surveillance and log vids, but she wasn't an AI; she wasn't capable of assembling them into a coherent summary.
"Ollie," I asked, "Can you tell me what happened when Adventurer arrived? Why the landing cradle wasn't completed, and why she is still in orbit?"
Ollie chuckled. "It's a story every child on Haven learns in school, in every nation." He paused, then continued, "Robet Barton, the first Colony Administrator wrote a memoir about it. You might want to pick up a copy while you're down there. It's a tragic tale, and Barton doesn't spare himself." He paused for a moment before continuing in a pedantic tone.
"At first, all went according to plan. Captain Young carried all the authority of the ship's Captain, and Barton and the Colony Council, elected by the colonists, accepted that their role was advisory only until they reached a planet.
"But in less than a year, cracks began to appear in the relationship between the colonists and the crew. It began with an epidemic aboard, and disagreement between colonist doctors and the crew med techs. Over 300 people died, and many blamed the med techs.
"It was all downhill from there. Irritations became resentments, and resentments eventually turned to hatred. Captain Young actually locked all access hatches between the crew and colonist decks. It came to a head in year 6, when some of the colonists rioted over Captain Young's refusal to increase the beer ration. A mob collected at the main hatch leading to the crew decks. Captain Young went to talk to them, and was killed by a thrown tablet. The mob tried to invade the crew decks, and several were killed before order was restored.
"The Council refused to surrender any of the members of the mob, and Captain Gold, the new Captain, announced that from then on, the colonists would be considered only cargo. They would not be consulted on anything, nor would he accept complaints or suggestions from murderers and their accessories.
"The arrival at Haven temporarily overcame the divide, and Captain Gold began attending Council meetings, though he wore a blaster and was accompanied by armed troops.
"By this time nearly all the crew was on-planet, though they located their quarters on the opposite side of the landing cradle from the rest of the colonists, in a separate cluster called 'Crew Town', and the Council demanded that he relinquish his command authority immediately instead of waiting until Adventurer grounded.
"Gold refused, and a gathering to demand he surrender authority turned into a riot. The rioters swept through Crew Town, beating and even killing any crewman unlucky enough to encounter them. They descended on Gold’s home, murdered him and his family, and burned the house to the ground. True or not, Barton was ultimately blamed for inciting the riot. He certainly insisted that he had nothing to with it.
“Unfortunately,” Ollie continued, “they didn't get Gold to divulge the command codes, or how to assume command in the event of the Captain's death. Suddenly Barton found that he had only general access to the comp, except for a few authorities specifically given to the Colony Administrator. The comp refused to comply with any request or order requiring Command authority. He could not access any information requiring security clearance, and could not order Adventurer’s remaining cargo delivered to the colony, nor
could he order her grounding.
"Surviving crewmembers tried to bring Adventurer down, but they didn’t possess command authority either. They were also unable to access cargo information or activate cargo handling equipment. After a few days they returned to the colony.”
Ollie sighed. “For the first 32 years they still had contact, and all unclassified information and training was still available to them. But the colonists no longer regarded Adventurer as a friendly teacher, but as an enemy. Comp lessons dropped off sharply, and some colonists even destroyed the small comps, the – tablets."
Ollie's face lit up again. "Of course!" he exclaimed. "I just realized what that term really means. They all had contact all along with Adventurer's comp! I cannot believe they didn't realize what a magnificent resource Erna is!"
He shook his head. "Anyway," he continued, "In year 32, several crew-descended terrorists hijacked the colony's lander, and lifted to Adventurer. They used manual controls to shut off all broadcast power and communications contact with the colony. We don't know whether they were just unskilled pilots or suicidal fanatics, but on their return to Haven, they crashed into a mountain in what is now Cellia. The remains +of the wreck were finally discovered about fifty years ago.
"That crash cut our final link to Adventurer. Over the centuries, she has come to be regarded as a miracle machine, containing all the mysteries of the universe, if only we could unlock them. So," he concluded, "I'm afraid the peoples' expectations are very high. I hope we can meet them!”
Chapter 13
Our appointment the next day was with the President of Doctor Aram's Juices and Teas, the largest tea company in New Home, and the second-highest-selling brand on Haven. The tea and juice industry was much larger than the metals industry, and I planned to use a totally different approach.
The President of Doctor Aram's was not Dr. Aram. There was not now, and had never been, a "Dr. Aram". The tanned, muscular middle-aged man who greeted us introduced himself as Ralf Jemson. "Not what you expected, eh?" he grinned. "Most people seem to expect a little rabbity guy with a stethoscope. But I spend as much time in the field as I do in the office; maybe more."
Stranded on Haven Page 26
