“Routine maintenance over three months ago, sir. The lasing chamber had developed a leak and we had to replace the tube. Nothing else detected then.”
“Someone’s been inside. Bright scratches on the inner casing where a board has been replaced recently.” Kinsolving knew that the robominer’s normal operation would have oxidized those scratches in less than a week. Someone had tampered with the warning circuits — within the past day or two.
He pulled the suspect board, leaving new scratches on the robot’s casing. Kinsolving plugged it into a portable tester and watched the readings. One after another blinked green until he came to one of a dozen circuits that weren’t operational in this model robominer.
“Someone’s added a false warning,” he told McClanahan. He got no immediate response. “Mac? You still there? Mac!”
“Sir, get the hell out of there. I’m getting bad readings all over level eighteen. Vibration. The strain gauges show the roof is collapsing!”
Kinsolving didn’t need the remote warning. The walls trembled and dust began to fall, obscuring vision for more than a few meters. Kinsolving started to crawl back to the larger part of the stoop, then stopped. His flash beam hit the wall of billowing dust and cut him off from seeing more than an arm’s length now. The rumbles told the real story, however.
Kinsolving flopped over onto his back, got to the robominer and activated it. Red lights flared inside, indicating that he hadn’t reinstalled the warning circuits. He didn’t care. The robot would work without those boards. He manually programmed it to reverse the direction of its cutting laser, then started it to work.
The coherent beam snapped into existence just centimeters above his head. Kinsolving pressed close to the metallic side of the robominer and worked around it as the machine began to trace its way back toward the elevator shaft. The laser drilled a hole through dust and debris and afforded a better view than he could have hoped for without it.
Less than ten meters from the shaft and the elevator that would get him to the surface, the roof collapsed. Kinsolving choked, as the shockwave of dust and stony fragments momentarily forced away all the air from the mouth of his respirator filter.
He shone his flash against the solid wall. To dig through it with his bare hands would be impossible. Kinsolving started the robominer cutting. He hoped it would break through before another tremor brought down all those tons of rock on his head.
He sat and watched and waited, unable to do anything more except worry.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Barton Kinsolving longed to reach over to the working robominer and turn up the cutting laser’s power. He held back. The trapped air in the stoop had turned stale quickly. To increase the robo-miner’s cutting speed would reduce the oxygen in the air even more. Kinsolving sat and wheezed and wondered what had gone wrong this time.
After all, Ala Markken was in the Lorr prison. She couldn’t be responsible for a second attempt on his life.
Kinsolving came to the gloomy conclusion that mining, in spite of the almost total automation, was still a dangerous business.
“Sir?” The com-link crackled with static. “You there, Mr. Kinsolving?”
“Still here, Mac,” he said, not wanting to use any more oxygen than necessary. “What happened?”
“Lost you for a minute. Getting a spotty signal.”
Kinsolving didn’t answer. McClanahan would get to the point in his own time. Kinsolving hoped he’d be around to hear it.
“You there, Mr. Kinsolving? I got readings of severe vibration. The computer analysis is that some damn fool was blasting in a stoop running parallel to the one you’re in. Too much explosive and weakened supports from the flooding caused the roof collapse.” A long pause with almost deafening static, then, “You there, Mr. Kinsolving?”
“I’m here,” Kinsolving said. He sat with his arms locked around his knees, thinking hard. Another attempt on his life. Blasting on this level hadn’t been approved for almost eight months. The laser cutters worked faster and better once the first tunnel had been opened. Why weaken the stoops with dangerous explosives when the robominer’s operation cut through the heart of the ore vein and left a fused tunnel stronger than the uncut rock?
If it wasn’t Ala who tried to kill him this time, who could it be?
The only answer possible made Kinsolving furious. When he got out, he’d find Kenneth Humbolt and snap his neck.
Kinsolving looked up to see the robominer’s readouts showing a decreasing power level. He started to take the chance and increase cutting power when he noticed the reason for the slowing. Sonic probes measured the distance to the far side of the rock fall. The robot was within centimeters of breakthrough.
“This can’t be right,” Kinsolving said aloud. His breath momentarily fogged the inner lenses of the respirator. He waited for a clearing, then checked the robominer. It had bored through only six meters of rock. By his estimate another four meters remained.
A sudden rush of air caused dust to swirl around him. He squinted as he looked into a powerful hand flash.
“You all right, Kinsolving?” came a voice he knew too well.
“I’m fine,” he answered. Kinsolving turned off the robominer and gingerly picked his way over the still-hot, lasered rock. He tumbled out to find himself sitting at Humbolt’s feet. The man helped Kinsolving to his feet and started brushing him off.
“That’s all right, Humbolt,” he said brusquely. “I’ll get cleaned up after we’re out of the mine.”
“I thought we’d lost you,” said Humbolt, slapping Kinsolving on the back. “Glad to see you’re still alive.”
“Why are you here?”
Humbolt tipped his head and peered at Kinsolving. “You sound suspicious. Hell, Barton, I just rescued you. Oh, you’d have cut your way out in a while, but you’re out in less than half the time it’d have taken your unit.”
“Thanks. But what are you doing here?” Kinsolving refused to be mollified.
“I returned to the compound just as the quake hit. I heard your McClanahan and figured you needed help. Been a long time since I’ve been in a mine. I got my start in the field and, well, I decided to give you a hand.”
‘You ran a robominer from this side?”
“They haven’t changed much,” Humbolt said with some pride.
“It wasn’t a quake,” said Kinsolving.
Kinsolving watched Humbolt’s expression. If he hadn’t been studying the IM director carefully he would have missed the quickly passing cloud of anger. Humbolt knew it wasn’t a natural quake; he knew this was no accident. But if Humbolt had orchestrated the new disaster, why bother rescuing the victim?
‘You saved me another hour trapped back there,” said Kinsolving. “Again, thank you.” He didn’t offer his hand, nor did Humbolt seem to expect the gratitude to extend that far.
“Let’s get back to the surface. Your Mr. McClanahan can keep these robots busy from the control center. How long before they can be producing ore again?”
“Cleanup for this level will be minimal,” said Kinsolving, the engineer in him rising to the surface and hiding the suspicious, paranoid part of his nature. “If we keep at it — no letup on the night shifts — the stoop will be producing again within a day or two. Might need to shore up the roof. One robominer is adequate for that. The other can burrow back and find the vein.”
“A day?” said Humbolt. “Good. I’ll expect a report at the end of the week.”
The elevator came to a smooth halt at the surface. Kinsolving ran from the cage and fell to the ground in appreciation for being free of a mine shaft that had for a second time almost been his grave. He sheepishly looked at Humbolt, embarrassed at this display of relief. But the director had already left the compound, walking briskly to a waiting vehicle. Even before Kinsolving could call out, the repulsor field of the vehicle hummed to life and it surged into the distance.
Kenneth Humbolt was in a hurry to get somewhere.
But where? Kinsolving wanted to
know this as much as he wanted to know who had been responsible for the explosion in the mine. If it had been Humbolt, he saw no reason for the director to abruptly change his mind and rescue his victim.
“Mac, what’s the status below?” he asked as he entered the control center. The young man bent over the console, working furiously.
“Got things programmed. Might be able to get ore production to nominal by this time tomorrow. Not much damage to the shaft or stoops.” McClanahan’s expression turned grim. “It was almost as if the explosion was meant to trap only you, Mr. Kinsolving.”
He didn’t bother telling McClanahan about the circuit board that had been tampered with. The spurious reading had been a lure. When he had descended the explosives had been detonated.
“Can you handle it, Mac? I’ve got to find Humbolt.”
“Haven’t seen him. You might try in town at the agent-general’s office. Think I heard someone say he was there this afternoon for another hearing. But you’d know that, wouldn’t you?”
“Right, Mac. I’d know all about that.”
With grim determination, Barton Kinsolving went to his quarters, washed and changed his clothing, then went hunting for Humbolt. If the director had been scheduled to meet with the Lorr agent-general, what had brought him to the mine so unexpectedly — and at such an opportune time to save Kinsolving?
*
By the time he reached the suite of rooms he’d taken as an office while on Deepdig, Kenneth Humbolt was in a rage. He stormed into the room and bellowed to a robutler, “Get me Cameron! Get him now!”
“There’s no need to be so upset, Director Humbolt,” came the silky smooth voice from across the room. Humbolt spun and faced Cameron. The assassin sat in a chair, one lavender-colored linen-encased leg dangling indolently over the low arm. He smoothed back a vagrant strand of his sandy hair and patted it into place. All Humbolt saw were the heavy gold rings on the hand.
“Do you like this?” Cameron asked. “I had thought the Lorr lacking in even the basics of fashion, but I found this interesting cloth and had a rather good tailor make it into this for me.” He held out his arms and displayed a forest green shirt with gold and silver highlights glinting in it. Large silver buttons with an eagle stamped in the metal paraded up the front to add contrast to the shirt.
“Why did you try to kill Kinsolving?” demanded Humbolt. “I don’t care about your damned clothing. Why did you try to kill my mine supervisor?”
“I thought the matter had been settled, Director.” Cameron swung his leg off the chair arm and lounged back, strong fingers tented just under his chin. “Do you think I would look more dashing with a beard? Nothing ostentatious, mind you. Just a small goatee?”
“Damn your facial hair!” shrieked Humbolt. Fists clenched, Humbolt forced control on himself. Only when he had regained control did he continue. “Answer me. Why did you try to kill Kinsolving?”
“Director, you had been told that Fremont instructed me to handle matters as I saw fit. It was obvious that Kinsolving’s removal facilitated much.” Cameron’s expression changed from mocking amusement to something harder. “Why did I try to kill him?”
“You failed. He’s still alive,” Humbolt said, reveling in the assassin’s surprise and chagrin. “You failed. Villalobos’ pet killer failed. How will that look to Fremont?”
“What happened? I had planned this carefully. The computer results showed a ninety-five percent confidence level of success.” Cameron eyed Humbolt coldly. “You intervened. You did something to thwart my plan to carry out Chairman Fremont’s wishes.”
“I arrived just as your explosives went off.” Humbolt heaved a deep breath. “It’s been quite a few years since I’ve been down in a mine, but I haven’t forgotten how to run a robominer.”
“You dug him out.”
“He would have been free within another hour, even without my aid. If I had never appeared, Kinsolving would still be alive.”
“Impossible. The explosive would have collapsed the entire stoop.”
“It didn’t. And he had repaired the robominer in the stoop and aimed it at the rock fall.”
“The air. It wouldn’t have been sufficient.”
“It was. Kinsolving is used to the conditions in a mine. He had a respirator with him. What else would you expect of a man going to investigate on anomalous radon leak?”
“The respirator shouldn’t have been enough. It doesn’t supply oxygen, does it?” Cameron rubbed a forefinger along the line of his jaw as he worried over the problem. “He can be removed in other ways that appear to be accidental.”
“You are not listening, Cameron. Kinsolving will not be removed under any circumstance. When I arrived and heard of his … misfortune … I retrieved him.”
Cameron eyed the director coldly.
“You work for Interstellar Materials,” Humbolt said, now in control. “I need Kinsolving alive. I order you not to harm him. If you don’t like it, take my orders to the chairman.”
“Chairman Fremont has given me orders contrary to yours,” Cameron said lightly. “Are you recommending that I ignore him?”
“I’m recommending that you allow me to do my job. A clumsy attempt to remove Kinsolving almost ruined my plans for him. The chairman won’t have any complaints when I am finished on Deepdig. No one loyal to IM and adhering to the Plan will be dissatisfied.”
“What is it you want from me, Director Humbolt?”
Humbolt felt a rush of excitement. Cameron would never be his pawn, not with players the caliber of Maria Villalobos in the game, but it would be possible to use Cameron to his benefit.
This time.
Humbolt smiled and went to his desk. Sitting down, he lounged back and stared up at the skylight, considering how best to phrase his orders. “Your talents will be required in less than a day, I am sure. It would be nice if you had a few of your tracking robots ready. I foresee extreme problems brewing at Deepdig number two.” Humbolt smiled even more. “It might even be a new disaster for us.”
“Supervisor Kinsolving dies?”
“Not at all. The Bizzies might have the wrong people jailed for tax evasion and the other tedious crimes against Lorr law. Wouldn’t that be a shame?”
“Chairman Fremont, shall we say, requested that Barton Kinsolving be removed permanently. Our chairman feels that the man is a danger to the Plan.”
“The Plan will prevail. And Barton Kinsolving will be in no position to harm either IM or the Plan. In fact, he will aid the Plan.”
“What more can we ask, eh?” said Cameron. “Nothing more. Prepare your equipment, Mr. Cameron. When everything comes together — soon — it will be needed in a hurry.”
“It will be a true pleasure, Director, to demonstrate my expertise once again for the good of IM and the Plan.”
Humbolt said nothing, his eyes flashing from the assassin to the door, giving Cameron a silent dismissal. He watched as the particolored fop strode across the room and vanished. Humbolt kept from laughing in relief, the nervous strain removed.
When he succeeded on Deepdig, perhaps he could find a way of using Cameron against Villalobos to permanently remove her as a director. Perhaps, perhaps. Humbolt turned to finish last-minute preparations. Kinsolving was due at the prison soon, or so said the computer projections based on the man’s personality. Kenneth Humbolt wanted everything to be ready when the mine supervisor arrived.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Barton Kinsolving needed to know. Nothing of the past few weeks made any sense to him. Life had been easy — good — before the mine accident, before Ala Markken had tried to kill him, before everything had fallen into ruin.
Kinsolving’s anger rose and faded as he guided the car across the countryside. Being out of control wouldn’t help. He had to keep his emotions in check and learn. Learn, he thought with some bitterness. He knew enough now to be upset and hurt. Finding out all the details might hurt even more. But not to know the truth would haunt him the rest of his life.<
br />
Ala loved him. He was sure of that. And he still loved her. It hadn’t been easy for him to fall in love initially, and he now refused to stop in spite of all that had happened.
“Must be an explanation. Must be,” he muttered over and over. With automatic skill, he drove until he saw the small city looming from the grassy prairie. The Lorr presence on Deepdig had never been great, and the size of the city proved this. Hardly more than ten thousand lived here, their duties primarily that of an overseer.
What else they did on Deepdig Kinsolving couldn’t say. He had never been curious enough to ask before. Ten thousand aliens weren’t needed to enforce mining regulations and tariffs. The rest must do something. Support? What support did the Lorr require? A small shuttle field stood seven kilometers off to the east, but the repair facilities there were minimal. IM’s workers outnumbered the Lorr two to one.
Kinsolving had driven past the prison building many times in his tenure on Deepdig but had never been inside. Now he idled the car and went up the steep steps not made for human legs. Kinsolving puffed and panted before he finished scaling them.
To the guard just inside the door he said, “I want to talk to a prisoner. Ala Markken.”
“No visitors, human,” the guard snapped.
Kinsolving had spent a lifetime dealing with petty functionaries. Alien or human didn’t matter. They all thought in the same patterns, had the same concerns. Protecting their private power domains ranked highest in their universe and anyone challenging their authority was not only suspect but was the enemy.
“I need to speak with her. Can you help me with the proper procedure?” This got him noticed. Any appeal to superior ability — allowing the bureaucrat to function — got noticed.
“Down the corridor, to the left, to the left again. See the watch commander.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Kinsolving said. He had no idea what the Lorr’s rank might be, but he knew that an officer wouldn’t be standing guard duty. The inflated rank inflated the guard’s ego. He gruffly motioned Kinsolving into the depths of the prison.
The Stellar Death Plan (Masters of Space Book 1) Page 6
