They considered it and, from their expressions, they did not think very much of the idea. They had taken sides, united against a common enemy in their thoughts, and Jason hurried on while he had them in agreement.
“I’m talking about a planet named ‘Felicity,’ apparently called this to sucker in the settlers, or for the same reason that big men are called Tiny.” I read about it some months back in a newsfax, just a small item about an entire mining settlement being wiped out. This is a hard thing to do. Mining, operation teams are tough and ready for trouble — and the John & John Minerals Company’s are the toughest. Also, and equally important, John Company does not play for small stakes. So I got in touch with some friends and sent them some money to spread around, and they managed to contact one of the survivors. It cost me a good deal more to get accurate information from him, but it was well worth it. Here it is.” He paused for dramatic effect and held up a sheet of paper.
“Well, read it. Don’t just wave it at us,” Brucco said, tapping the table irritably.
“Have patience,” Jason told him. “This is an engineer’s report, and it is very enthusiastic in a restrained engineering way. Apparently Felicity has a wealth of heavy elements, near the surface and confined to a relatively restricted area. Opencut mining should be possible and, from the way this engineer talks, the uranium ore soi,inds like it is rich enough to run a reactor without any refining.”
“That’s impossible,” Meta broke in. “Uranium ore in a free state could not be so radioactive that—”
“Please,” Jason said, holding both hands in the air. “I was just making a small exaggeration to emphasize a point. The ore is rich, let it go at that. The important thing now is that, in spite of the quality of the ore, John Company is not returning to Felicity. They had their fingers burned once, badly, and there are plenty of other planets they can mine with a lot less effort. Without having to face dragon-riding barbarians who appear suddenly out of the ground and attack in endless waves, destroying everything they come near.”
“What is all that last bit supposed to mean?” Kerk asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine. This is the way the survivors described the massacre. The only thing we can be sure about it is that they were attacked by mounted men, and that they were licked.”
“And this is the planet you wish us to go to,” Kerk said. “It does not sound attractive. We can stay here and work our own mines.”
“You’ve been working your mines for centuries, until some of the shafts axe five kilometers deep and producing only second-rate ore — but that’s not the point. I’m thinking about the people here and what is going to happen to them. Life on this planet has been irreversibly changed. The Pyrrans who were capable of making an adjustment to the new conditions have done so. Now, what about the others?”
Their only answer was a protracted silence.
“It’s a good question, isn’t it? And a pertinent one. I’ll tell you what’s going to happen to the people left in this city. And when I tell you, try not to shoot me. I think you have all outgrown that kind of instant reflex to a difference of opinion. At least I hope that everyone in this room has. I wouldn’t tell this to the people out there in the city. They would probably kill me rather than hear the truth. They don’t want to find out that they are all condemned to certain death by this planet.”
There was the thin whine of an electric motor as Mets’s gun sprang halfway out of its power holster, then slipped back. Jason smiled at her and waggled his finger; she turned away coldly. The others controlled their trigger reflexes better.
“That is not true,” Kerk said. “People are still leaving the city—”
“And returning in about the same numbers. Argument invalid. The ones who were able to leave have done so; only the hard core is left.”
“There are other possible solutions,” Brucco said. “Another city could be constructed—”
The rumble of an earthquake interrupted him. They had been feeling tremors for some time, so commonplace on Pyrrus that they were scarcely aware of them, but this one was much stronger. The building moved under them and a jagged crack appeared in the wall, showering cement dust. The crack intersected the window frame and, although the single pane was made of armorglass, it fractured under the strain and crashed out in jagged fragments. As though on cue, a stingwing dived at the opening, ripping through the protective netting inside. It dissolved in a burst of flame as their guns surged from their power holsters and four shots fired as one.
“I’ll watch the window,” Kerk said, shifting his chaii so he could face the opening. “Go on.”
The interruption, the reminder of what life in this city was really like, had thrown Brucco off his pace. He hesitated a moment, then continued.
“Yes… well, what I was saying, other solutions are possible. A second city, quite distant from here, could be constructed, perhaps at one of the mine sites. Only around this city are the life forms so deadly. This city could be abandoned and—”
“And the new city would recapitulate all the sins of the old. The hatred of the remaining Pyrrans would recreate the same situation. You know them better than I do, Brucco, isn’t that what would happen?”
Jason waited until Brucco had nodded a reluctant yes.
“We’ve been over this ground before and there is only one possible solution. Get those people off Pyrrus and to a world where they can survive without a constant, decimating war. Any place would be an improvement over Pyrrus. You people are so close to it that you seem to have forgotten what a hell this planet really is. I know that it’s all that you have and that you’re adjusted to it, but it is really not very much. I’ve proved to you that all of the life forms here are telepathic to a degree and that your hatred of them keeps them warring upon you. Mutating and changing and constantly getting more vicious and deadly. You have admitted that. But it doesn’t change the situation. There are still enough of you Pyrrans hating away to keep the wax going. Sanity save me but you are a pigheaded people! If I had any brains, I would be well away from here and leave you to your deadly destiny. But I’m involved, like it or not. I’ve kept you alive and you’ve kept me alive and our futures run on the same track. Besides that, I like your girls.”
Meta’s sniff was loud in the listening silence.
“So jokes and arguments aside, we have a problem. If your people stay here, they eventually die. All of them. To save them, you are going to have to get them away from here, to a more friendly world. Habitable planets with good natural resources are not always easy to find, but I’ve found one. There may be some differences of opinion with the natives, the original settlers, but I think that should make the idea more interesting to Pyrrans rather than the other way around. Transportation and equipment are on the way. Now who is in with me? Kerk? They look to you for leadership. Now, lead!”
Kerk squinted his eyes dangerously at Jason and tightened his lips with distaste. “You always seem to be talking me into doing things I do not really want to do.”
“A measure of maturity,” Jason said blandly. “The ego rising triurnphant over the id. Does that mean that you will help?”
“It does. I do not want to go to another planet and I do not enjoy the thought. Yet I can see no other way to save the people in the city from certain extinction.”
“Good. And you, Brucco? We’ll need a surgeon.”
“Find another one. My assistant, Teca, will do. My studies of the Pyrran life forms are far from complete. I am staying in the city as long as it is here.”
“It could mean your life.”
“It probably will. However, my records and observations axe indestructible.”
No one doubted that he meant it, or attempted to argue with him. Jason turned to Meta.
“We’ll need you to pilot the ship after the ferry crew has been returned.”
“I’m needed here to operate our Pyrran ship.”
“There are other pilots. You’ve trained them yourself. And if yo
u stay here, I’ll have to get myself another woman.”
“I’ll kill her if you do. I’ll pilot the ship.”
Jason smiled and blew her a kiss that she pretended to ignore. “That does it then,” he said. “Brucco will stay here, and I guess RIses will also stay to supervise the settling of the city Pyrrans with his people.”
“You have guessed wrong,” Rhes told him. “The settlements are now handled by a committee and going as smoothly as can be expected. I have no desire to remain, what is the word? — a backwoods rube for the rest of my life. This new planet sounds very interesting and I am looking forward to the experience.”
“That is the best news I have heard today. Now let’s get down to facts. The ship will be here in about two weeks, so if we organize things now, we should be able to get the supplies and people aboard and lift soon after she arrives. I’ll write up an announcement that loads the dice as much as possible in favor of this operation, and we can spring it on the populace. Get volunteers. There are about 20,000 people left in the city, but we can’t get more than about 2,000 into the ship it’s a demothballed armored troop carrier called the Pugnacious, left over from one of the Rim Wars, so we can pick and choose the best. Establish the settlement and come back for the others. We’re on our way.”
Jason was stunned, but no one else seemed surprised.
“One hundred and sixty-eight volunteers, including Grif, a nineyear-old boy, out of how many thousand? It just isn’t possible.”
“It is possible on Pyrrus,” Kerk said.
“Yes, it’s possible on Pyrrus, but only on Pyrrus.” Jason paced the room, with a frustrating, dragging step in the doubled gravity, smacking his fist into his open palm. “When it comes to unthinking reflex and sheer bullheadedness, this planet really wins the plutonium-plated prize. ‘Me born here. Me stay here. Me die here. Ugh.’ Ugh is right!” He spun about to stab his finger at Kerk, then grabbed at his calf to rub away the cramp brought on by overexertion in the heightened gravity.
“Well, we’re not going to worry about them,” he said. ‘We’ll save them in spite of themselves. We’ll take the one hundred and sixty-eight volunteers and we’ll go to Felicity, and we’ll lick the planet and open the mine, and come back for the others. That’s what we’re going to do!”
He slumped in the chair, massaging his leg, as Kerk went out.
“I hope…” he mumbled under his breath.
3
Muffled clanking sounded in the airlock as the transfer-station mechanics fastened the flexible tubeway to the spacer’s hull. The intercom buzzed as someone plugged into the hull jack outside.
“Transfer Station 70 Ophiuchi to Pugnacious. You are sealed to tubeway, which is now pressurized to ship standard. You may open your outer port.”
“Stand by for opening,” Jason said, and turned the key in the override switch that permitted the outer port to be open at the same time as the inner one.
“Good to be back on dry land,” one of the ferry crewmen said as they came into the lock, and the others laughed uproariously, as though he had said something exceedingly funny. All of them, that is, except the pilot, who scowled at the opening port, his broken arm sticking out stiffly before him in its cast. None of them mentioned the arm or looked in his direction, but he knew why they were laughing.
Jason did not feel sorry for the pilot. Meta always gave fair warning to the men who made passes at her. Perhaps, in the romantically dim light of the bridge, he had not believed her. So she had broken his arm. Tough. Jason kept his face impassive as the man passed by him and out into the tubeway. This was constructed of transparent plastic, an undulating umbilical cord that connected the spacer to the transfer station, the massive, light-sprinkled bulk that loomed above them. Two other tubeways were visible, like theirs, connecting ships to this way station in space, balanced in a null-g orbit between the suns that made up the two star system. The smaller companion, 70 Ophiuchi B, was just rising behind the station, a tiny disk over a billion miles distant.
“We’ve got a parcel here for the Pugnacious,” a clerk said, floating out of the mouth 0f the tubeway. “A transhipment waiting your arrival.” He extended a receipt book. ‘Want to sign for it?”
Jason scrawled his name, then moved aside as two freight handlers maneuvered the bulky case down the tube and through the lock. He was trying to work a pinch bar under the metal sealing straps when Meta came up.
“What is that?” she asked, twisting the bar from his hands with an easy motion and jamming it deep under the strap. She heaved once and there was the sharp twang of fractured metal.
“You’ll make some man a fine husband,” Jason told her, dusting off his fingers. “I bet you can’t do the other two that easily.” She bent to the task. ‘This is a tool, something that we are going to need very much if we are going into the planet-busting business. I wish I had had one when I first came to Pyrrus, it might have saved a good number of lives.”
Meta threw back the cover and looked at the wheeled ovoid form. “What is it a bomb?” she asked.
“Not on your life. This is something much more important.” He tilted up the crate so that the object rolled out onto the floor.
It was an almost featureless, shiny metal egg that stood a good meter
high with its small end up. Six rubber-tired wheels, three to a side, held it clear of the floor, and the top was crowned by a transparent-lidded control panel. Jason reached down and flipped up the lid, then punched a button marked on and the panel lights glowed.
“What are you?” he said.
“This is a library,” a hollow, metallic voice answered.
“Of what possible use is that?” Meta said, turning to leave.
“I’ll tell you,” Jason said, putting out his hand to stop her, ready to move back quickly if she tried any arm-busting tricks. “This device is our intelligence, in the military sense, not the IQ. Have you forgotten what we had to go through to find out anything at all about your planet’s history? We needed facts to work from and we had none at all. Well, we have some now.” He patted the library’s sleek side.
“What could this little toy possibly know that could help us?”
“This little toy, as you so quaintly put it, costs over 982 thousand credits, plus shipping charges.”
She was shocked. “Why you could outfit an army for that much. Weapons, ammunition…”
“I thought that would impress you. And will you please get it through your exceedingly lovely blond head that armies aren’t the solution to every problem. We are going to bang up against a new culture soon, on a new planet, and we want to open a mine in the right place. Your army will tell us nothing about mineralogy or anthropology or ecology or exobiology—”
“You are making those words up.”
“Don’t you just wish I were! I don’t think you quite realize how much of a library is stuffed into this creature’s metal carcass. Library,” he said, pointing to it dramatically, “tell us about yourself.”
“This is a model 427-1587, Mark IX, improved, with photodigital laser-based recorder memory and integrated circuit technology—”
“Stop!” Jason ordered. “Library, you will have to do better than that. Can’t you describe yourself in simple newsfax language?”
“Well, hello there,” the library chortled. “I’ll bet you never saw a Mark IX before, the ultimate in library luxury—”
“We’ve hit the sales talk button, but at least we can understand it.”
“And the very newest example of what the guys who built this machine like to call ‘integrated circuit technology.’ Well, friends, you don’t need a galactic degree to understand that the Mark IX is something new in the universe. That ‘integrated so-and-so’ double-talk just means that this is a thinking machine that can’t be beat. But everyone needs something to think about as well as to think with, and just like the memory in your head, the Mark IX has a memory all its own. A memory that
contains the entire library at the
University of Haribay, holding more books than you could count in a lifetime. These books have been broken down into words and the words have been broken down into bits, and the bits have been recorded on little chips of silicon inside the Mark IX’s brain. That memory part of the brain is no bigger than a man’s clenched fist a small man’s fist because there are over 545 million bits to every ten square millimeters. You don’t even have to know what a bit is to know that that is impressive. All of history, science and philosophy are in this brain. Linguistics, too. If you want to know the word for ‘cheese’ in the basic galactic languages, in the order of the number of speakers, it is this…”
As the high-speed roar of syllables poured out Jason turned to Meta and found she was gone.
“It can do other things besides translate ‘cheese,” he said, pressing the off button. “Just wait and see.”
The Pyrrans were happy enough to vegetate, to doze and yawn, like tigers with full stomachs, during the trip to Felicity. Only Jason felt the urge to use the time efficiently. He searched all the cross-references in the library for information about the planet and the solar system it belonged to, and was drawn from his studies only by Meta’s passionate, yet implacable, grasp. She felt that there were far more interesting ways to pass the long hours, and Jason, once he had been severed from his labors, enthusiastically agreed with her.
One ship-day before they were scheduled to drop from jump-space into the Felicity system. Jason called a general meeting in the dining room.
“This is where we are going,” he said, tapping a large diagram hung on the wall. There was absolute silence and ioo percent attention, for a military-style briefing was meat and drink to the Pyrrans.
“The planet is called ‘Felicity,’ the fifth planet of a nameless class-F star. This is a white star with about twice the luminosity of Pyrrus’s own Ga sun and it puts out a lot more ultraviolet. You can look forward to getting nice suntans. The planet has nine-tenths of its surface covered by water, with a few chains of volcanic islands and only one land mass big enough to be called a continent. This one. As you can see, it looks like a flattened-out dagger, point downward, divided roughly in the middle by the guard. The line here, represented by the guard, is an immense geological fault that cuts across the continent from one side to the other, an unbroken cliff that is three to ten kilometers high across the entire land mass. This cliff and the range of mountains behind it have had a drastic effect on the continental weather. The planet is far hotter than most other habitable ones, the temperature at the equator is dose to the boiling point of water, and only this continent’s location right up near the northern pole makes life bearable. Moist, warm air sweeps north and hits the escarpment and the mountains, where it condenses as rain on the southern slopes. A number of large rivers run south from the mountains and signs of agriculture and settlements were seen here, but were of no interest to the John Company men. The magnetometers and gravitometers didn’t twitch a needle. But up here” — he tapped the northern half of the continent, the “handle” of the dagger — “up here the detectors went wild. The mountain building that pushed the northern half up so high, causing this continent-splitting range in the middle, stirred up the heavy metal deposits. Here is where the mines will have to be, in the middle of the most desolate piece of landscape I have ever heard about. There is little or no water, the mountain range stops most of it, and what does get past the mountains usually falls as snow on this giant plateau. It is frigid, high, dry, and deadly, and it never changes. Felicity has almost no axial tilt to speak of, so the seasonal changes are so slight they can scarcely be noticed. The weather in any spot remains the same all of the time. To finish off this highly attractive picture of the ideal settlement site, there are men who live up here who are as deadly, or deadlier, than any life forms you ever faced on Pyrrus. Our job will be to sit right down in the middle of them, build a settlement and open a mine. Do I hear any suggestions as to how this can be done?”
The Horse Barbarians tds-3 Page 2
