Twilight brought them into yet another high valley where the alpine grass was still struggling to establish itself. Trees and bushes were confined to thickets along the side of the fast-flowing stream that cut along the bottom. Kieran was spelling Rosamund behind the wheel. As they started to climb again, he turned the headlights on. Long beams of blue-tinged light exposed the shelf that was now their road. There was no compacted stone here; the soil was a hard grit bound together with tough short grass and ragged moss. Occasional rockfall mounds had been carved away by machines decades ago, but apart from that the track appeared to be natural. Adam wondered if it had originally been formed by the local equivalent of mountain goats in the millennia before the flare. It was a little too convenient to be completely geological. He was also slightly discomforted by how narrow it was in sections. The width fluctuated constantly. There were no crash barriers; and the slope below was steep getting on for vertical. Thankfully, it was getting harder to see the valley floor as the light shrank away out of the sky. Stars began to appear overhead.
Adam went to check on Paula again. The cab’s air-conditioning unit was now blowing warm air through the vents, compensating for the chill of altitude. She moaned when he slid the composite door open, instinctively turning away from the pink twilight that shone in through the windshield.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
A skeletal face peered up at him from a nest of blankets.
Adam sniffed the air, and tried not to grimace in disgust. Paula had been sick; sticky brown fluid stained the blankets she was clutching. He thought there might be specks of blood in it.
“Here.” He handed her a bottle of water. “You’ve got to drink more.”
Just looking at it made her shudder. “Can’t.”
“You’re dehydrating, that just makes this worse.” He began to tug his dark red sweater off over his head. “Give me the top blanket and put this on.”
She said nothing, but released her grip on the blanket. He bundled it away in a polythene bag, then adjusted the vent controls for a quick blast of clear air to rid the little compartment of the rancid smell. Paula took a long time to pull the sweater on. The one time he tried to help, she pushed his hands away, determined to do it herself. He didn’t offer again; if she still had pride there was hope for her personality yet.
“I’ve got some sedatives left,” he said when she fell back down onto the cot, completely exhausted.
“No.” She beckoned at the bottle he was holding. “I’ll try and drink.”
“You need more than that.”
“I’ll try and remember.”
“The Guardians will have a doctor.”
“We’ll stick to the diagnostic array, thank you. I trust that more than any doctor on this world.”
“That’s prejudice.”
“It’s my life.”
“Look, we both know—”
“We’ve got company,” Rosamund sang out. “Trucks up ahead, coming our way.”
Adam gave Paula a long look. “We’ll talk about this later.”
“It’s hard for me to avoid you.”
He went back into the cab, glancing at the radar display. “What have you got?”
Kieran pointed out through the windshield. Several points of light were moving along the side of the mountain ahead of them, shining bright in the deep shadow.
“See if you can contact them,” Adam told Rosamund. He wasn’t particularly worried. If the Institute had by some miracle tracked them down, they wouldn’t be so blatant.
“Answering signal,” Rosamund said. “It’s Samantha all right, she says they need to get started with the equipment straightaway.”
They drove on for another kilometer before finding a broad section of the road shelf where they could all park. Samantha’s vehicles roared in ten minutes later as the sapphire sky finally faded to black, and the stars shone with an intensity Adam rarely got to see on any Commonwealth world. Seven medium-sized trucks and five old Vauxhall jeeps parked around the Volvos, all with tough primitive-looking AS suspension; their engines thundered in the thin air, exhaust pipes blowing out mucky vapor. Twenty Guardians climbed out, giving the new Volvos an inquisitive examination.
Samantha was younger than Adam was expecting, certainly still in her twenties, with an enormous cloud of dark red hair that was wound back into a boisterous tail which hung a long way down her broad back. A face that was eighty percent freckles smiled curiously at him when they met in front of the Volvos, illuminated by the bright blue-tinted headlight.
Adam took out the crystal holding the Martian data and handed it over to her with a flourish.
“Adam Elvin.” She shook his hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’ve heard your name a lot from people who come back.”
There was something in the way she said that, almost like an accusation. “Thanks. We weren’t expecting to see you for a while yet.”
“Yeah, I know. Change of plan. Have you been following the Highway One reports?”
“Yes.”
“The Starflyer’s making better progress than we expected. We really need to get those last manipulator stations up and running. I figured it would be quicker to offload the equipment to my people now, and they’ll disperse from here.”
“Sure, hey this is your field. We’re just the delivery team.”
“You’ve done a good job. With this.”
Again, there was that tone. “Anything the matter?”
“Hey, sorry, pal.” She gripped his arm tightly. “No offense, but I’m Lennox’s mother. I was good friends with Kazimir, too. Real good friends.”
Adam didn’t understand the Lennox reference. “Oh, I didn’t know. I’m sorry. Kazimir was a good man, one of the best.”
Rosamund gave a discreet cough behind him. “Bruce was Lennox’s father.”
Adam looked from Rosamund to Samantha, completely flummoxed. “Christ. Uh, did you know he’s dead, too?”
“Been dead a long time, pal. Just his body been walking around out there.” Another firm squeeze on Adam’s arm. “After this, if you’ve got time, I’d like to hear about it. Be good coming from the horse’s mouth.”
“Of course.”
“For now we need to shift our asses into gear, and sharpish. How much did you bring?”
“Just about everything we said we would. There’s twenty-five tons in each truck. Some got damaged en route, not much.”
“Yeah, heard you had some trouble.” Samantha eyed the navy people. “How’s that going?”
“It’s under control.”
Samantha mulled that over for a while. “You’re our top man in the Commonwealth; Bradley Johansson trusts you, so I will, too. But I don’t need any surprises, pal. Out here we have a very easy solution for Starflyer agents.”
“Understood. You won’t get any surprises.”
Samantha produced a handheld array that was old enough to have been on Far Away right from the start. “I’ll need the inventory, but that kind of tonnage! Dreaming heavens, sounds like we’ve got more than enough. Thanks again; this planet might just get its revenge after all. That must have been some ride to get here.”
“It had its moments.”
“Let’s hope it wasn’t for nothing. Time really is being a bitch to us right now. Can we start unloading?”
“Sure.” He got Rosamund and Jamas to open the trailers while he handed Samantha a spare handheld array and showed her how to use it. She whistled appreciatively at its adaptive-logic voice recognition, and started searching the inventory list. A minute later she was bellowing instructions to her people. Guardians and trolleybots were soon beavering away unloading the crates.
“Just how time-critical are things?” Adam asked. He was beginning to feel redundant, standing with the navy people in a little cluster while Jamas and the others were smiling away as they greeted friends they hadn’t seen in years.
Samantha sucked on her lower lip and lowered her voice. “My teams should pull through. T
he drivers will dose up on beezees and run the mountains like a bat out of hell tonight, each of the stations will get their load tomorrow; Zuggenhim Ridge is the farthest away, and that should be done by midday, which is cutting it fine for assembly, but I’ll take that one myself. We’re going to start the planet’s revenge the day after tomorrow no matter how many stations are ready. No choice, pal.”
Adam did some quick mental arithmetic. “That is going to be tight.” He reckoned the Starflyer would reach the Institute sometime after midday.
“Very,” she said. “But that’s not the real problem.”
“What is?”
“Our observation team is badly behind schedule. As soon as we heard the Starflyer was through the gateway we tried to tell them to start. They were camped in the Nalosyle Vales, and there was a bad weather front around there. We didn’t get through until early this morning, bastard short wave is good for crap all. If they have nothing but good luck, it’ll take them three days to get up to Aphrodite’s Seat.”
“What does the observation team do?” Wilson asked.
“We have to know the topology of the weather patterns,” Samantha said. “We need to plot the morning stormfronts exactly as they come around Mount Herculaneum, then we need to see what effect our manipulators are having so we can direct the damn thing properly. It’s going to be tricky enough for the control group without working half blind.”
“Satellite imagery?” Anna said.
“No satellites here,” Wilson said. “I remember talking to the Institute director a while back. Got a personal update on infrastructure.” He grinned distantly.
Samantha gave him a very interested look. “Right. Which is why we need someone on Aphrodite’s Seat. From there you can see right to the eastern end of the Dessault range. It’s also a perfect com relay point; no more crapping short wave.”
“But they’re not going to get there in time,” Adam said. That arithmetic wasn’t difficult at all.
“Trust me, we’re kicking their asses as much as we can over the radio. Not that we can say much without drawing too much attention. If anyone can do it, they will.”
“Isn’t there any other way up there?” Wilson asked. “What about flying? There must be some aircraft on Far Away.”
“Aphrodite’s Seat is above the atmosphere. In any case, nobody goes flying planes around the Grand Triad, not with the winds that hit them from the ocean.”
“I thought tourists flew over it,” Oscar said.
“Sure do,” Samantha said. “Rich morons try and catch the winds so they can glide over it. The lucky ones make it to the far side. Not onto the peak.”
“The right parabola could get you there,” Wilson said thoughtfully.
“And you know how to do that?” Samantha asked scornfully.
Wilson leaned forward with a menacing smile that shut down her attitude. Adam could see what an unfair contest it was: a young Samantha who cheerfully bossed around a team of freedom fighters and the Admiral, an exfighter pilot who had captained the Second Chance, then went on to command the navy.
“I’m the only human being ever to have flown on Mars,” he told her equitably. “I aerobraked a spaceplane from a two-hundred-kilometer orbit and landed on a designated site the size of a tennis court. How about you?”
“Shit! You’re dicking with me, pal.”
“Wilson.” Oscar was tugging at his arm. “Come on, man, that was over three hundred years ago. And that plane had rocket engines to help you steer, these gliders don’t.”
“That kind of flying is not something you forget or erase,” Wilson said. “Besides, the tour companies here must have skill memory implants.”
“Well, yeah,” an astounded Samantha said. “But, come on! Landing on the summit of Mount Herculaneum? Are you serious?”
“Yes, are you?” Adam asked. As soon as Wilson suggested it, Adam had begun sketching out consequences and opportunities. Even if there was only the slightest chance of success they had to make the effort. It wasn’t going well on Highway One, and the superstorm wouldn’t happen unless the control group was fully functional. After everything they’d gone through, the sacrifices they’d endured to get the Martian data here, he couldn’t bear the idea of it not having its chance.
“You’ll need a lot of electrical gear,” Samantha said. “We need high resolution panoramic vision and clear relay channels. I haven’t got anything like that here.”
Wilson tapped her ancient array. “The electronics we’re carrying are a lot better than anything of yours I’ve seen so far, no offense.”
“First things first,” Adam said. “Can we reach the gliders which the tourists use in time to get up there before the Starflyer arrives at the Institute?”
Samantha sucked in a long breath. “It’ll be tight, pal. You’ll need to get the hyperglider tethered down in Stakeout Canyon tomorrow night to catch the morning storm. The travel companies hangar them at Stonewave, that’s on the wet desert west of the Aldrin Plains. You’ll have to burn some gas to get there in time, tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”
Adam pulled the map out of his virtual vision grid, tracing the northern edge of the Dessault range to the west until he found the town. She was right, it was a long way, much farther than Wolfstail. “Can it be done?” he asked.
“Yeah, maybe. There’s a track wedged in between the foothills and the top of the grasslands. You use that and you don’t have to drive through the crapping Anguilla grass. It’ll take you around Herculaneum and out on the north side of Mount Zeus. Stonewave is a straight line north from there.”
Adam turned his attention back to the trucks. “We’ll unhitch the trailers from the cabs. We’ll make much better time without them.”
“You’ll need to, pal. Believe me when I say you do not want to be caught anywhere near Herculaneum tomorrow morning after the storm comes in from the ocean. If you’re going to live, never mind fly, you have to get into the lee of Zeus before sunrise.”
“Thanks.”
She gazed at Wilson. “You really going to do this?”
“We’re really going to do this,” Oscar said.
“Huh?” Wilson gave him a startled look.
“You heard,” Anna said. “We all know how to fly; that’s one up on most of the tourists crazy enough to try this. And with three of us, there’ll be a better chance that someone will survive to smash down on the top of the mountain.”
“You mean glide gently to a soft halt,” Oscar said.
“I know what I mean.”
Wilson put his arm around her. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” She stroked his cheek tenderly. “You still owe me a honeymoon.”
“This trip isn’t good enough?”
She kissed him, her eyes shining. “Not yet.”
“Dreaming heavens,” Samantha said. “I don’t doubt you could do this, but…the sabotage. I can’t risk it.”
“Yes, you can,” Wilson said. “Assume the worst, if the saboteur is the only one of us who makes it to the top and doesn’t relay the observation data you need, how will that make it worse than it is right now?”
Samantha gave him a desperate look; her gaze slipped over to Adam. It was obvious she didn’t want the decision. “All right,” she said grudgingly. “I guess there’s not much to lose.”
Wilson gave her a curt nod, still in command. “We’ll need your exact observation requirements, and the communications specs so we can modify our equipment. Do Rosamund and the rest know the route to Stonewave?”
“Pretty much. The tourist companies use the route along the side of the foothills to chase after their hypergliders, so it’s pretty well marked out.”
Adam caught up with Oscar as the trailers were being unhitched from the Volvo cabs. Almost all of the crates had been unloaded. The truck to Zuggenhim Ridge had already left. Samantha was going to take a jeep and follow it, once she and another Guardian called Valentine had finished briefing Wilson and Jamas on the technical details
of the observation. They were going to spend the trip to Stonewave modifying their arrays to duplicate the performance of the equipment that the original observation team carried.
“I’m glad you volunteered,” Adam said.
“I wasn’t about to let Wilson go and—” His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”
“Because I’m only going to allow you to fly.”
“What!” Oscar hunched down instinctively, checking to see if anyone was looking. “What are you talking about?” he asked in a low voice.
“You think Wilson and Anna are suddenly in the clear because they offered to do this?”
“Well…” Oscar rubbed a hand hard across his forehead. “Oh, Christ.”
“Assume one of them is the traitor, and they make it to the top. The whole planet’s revenge project is dependent on that observation.” Adam slapped his hands together vigorously. “They’ve fucked us. Bang, it’s over. Starflyer makes it back to the Marie Celeste and leaves.”
“When are you going to tell them?”
“After we’ve got to Stonewave and prepared the hypergliders. That’s the other thing, this trip will keep all of us away from these manipulator stations Samantha is building; I don’t want any sudden freak accidents to happen to them, either. Once we’ve found a working hyperglider and set it up ready to fly, I’ll tell them they’re grounded. My Guardian team will back me up.”
“Adam, please, I’m not that good a pilot. Hell, the only time I’ve actually flown in the last ten years is on the Carbon Goose.”
“The insert memories will help. You’ll make it, Oscar, you always do.”
Four Land Rover Cruisers were parked across Highway One. Ion shots raked the sky above them, punching into buildings where Institute troopers were shooting at the approaching line of Guardians’ vehicles. The kinetic rapid-fire gun mounted on the bonnet of the Cruiser blocking the nearside lane began firing at the cab of the big eighteen-wheel Loko truck that was bearing down on it at a hundred kilometers an hour. An answering hyper-rifle shot from the truck’s cab struck the Cruiser head-on, slicing clean through its force field. It exploded violently, lifting its broken-backed chassis off the ground to somersault in midair.