After an hour they came to the tarn. The sand had given way to naked rock kilometers earlier. All around them were the steep rolling slopes of the interlocking mountaintops. There were no streambeds, or erosion gullies; the planet hadn’t had an atmosphere long enough to begin features like that, although rain was busy washing regolith sand down into the lowlands. From there it was creeping steadily into the shallow oceans. Up here, water trickled over the undulations in unbroken sheets until it found basins and nooks to collect in. The tarn was a long oval shape, with water up to its brim. When the rains came it overflowed into a sharp cleft of black granite at the eastern end.
“It’s so clear,” Barry exclaimed as they stood at the edge. Apart from small ripples reflecting the velvet sky there was no movement. They could see the rough rock bottom sloping away toward the center. “Just like the Trine’ba,” he said with a smile.
“Almost,” Liz agreed. “Come on, let’s go get changed.”
The four of them waded in, gasping at how cold the tarn was. Their voices echoed cleanly through the mountain air, bouncing off the high rumpled inclines around them.
“I miss the fish,” Sandy confessed as she swam cautiously farther out from the shore. Mark had insisted she wear inflatable wings on the back of her suit. For once she didn’t argue.
“No fish, no algae,” he said to Liz. It was strange; he normally associated water with life, while this was the complete opposite.
“It’ll come,” she said. “Every time someone comes swimming up here they leave bacteria behind. In a hundred years this tarn will be a proper little vat, the planet’s biggest natural petri dish, leaking its new bugs out across the landscape every time it rains.”
“We always leave our mark, don’t we?”
“Just about. I guess it’s evolution on a galactic scale. A planet that produces life smart enough to figure out star travel will spread its DNA across the stars. And evolution is one tough battleground.”
“That sounds like the Gaia hypothesis.”
“Taken to the extreme, I suppose it is. I wonder if the Primes recognize it at an instinctive level. They were certainly keen to alienform Elan. Remember those images Morton recorded of the biorefinery they built on the edge of Randtown?”
“So whoever built the barriers knew that, too?”
“Yeah. A stellar-sized rabbit-proof fence, like the one they built in Australia once the immigration started. And along we came with the bolt cutters. Damn, we’re dumb. Maybe this is evolution’s way of telling us we’re obsolete.”
Mark stood on the slippery rock, and started to wade out. “We’re not dumb, we’re principled. I’m proud of that, of what we are collectively.”
“Hope you’re right, baby.” Liz waded out beside him, and hurriedly wrapped a big towel around herself. “Five minutes, you two,” she called out to the children. They were several meters offshore now, splashing about with Panda. Barry waved back.
“Here.” Mark twisted the tabs on a couple of hot chocolate cans, and handed her one as it began to steam.
“Thanks.” She gave him a quick kiss.
“They’re moving me,” he said tersely.
“Moving you where?”
“To a different part of the project.” He looked up. One of the spaceflower moons was gliding up over the horizon. Even now, the massive gigalife gave him a thrill. To think that there was a society out there that could afford to produce such things just for the sheer fun of it. That was inspiring. The kind of endeavor that a new human civilization should strive for, rather than the constant commercial rat race the Commonwealth pursued and worshiped.
“What do you mean?” There was a hint of steel in her voice.
“It’s not just lifeboats the Dynasty is building up there. A fleet that big traveling through space we know nothing about…it needs protection, Liz.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Liz spat in contempt. “I might have known: they’re building warships.”
“Frigates, yeah. It’s a new design, smaller and faster than the Moscow-class. There’s something different about the drive, as well. I don’t know what. And nobody will talk about the weapons it carries.”
“No kidding. So what did you tell them?”
Mark took a long drink of the hot chocolate, marshaling his thoughts. He always hated it when they had an argument. For a start she was so much better at it than he was. “This isn’t the kind of job you get to choose assignments. We both knew that.”
“All right,” she said. “I guess not. I just don’t like the idea of you working on weapons.”
“I’m not. It’s the assembly system they want to get up and running. They’re using a different method than on the lifeboats, with their preassembled sections. The frigate assembly bays are combined with the station dockyard. Individual components are shipped in directly and integrated up in orbit.”
“Whoopee, another great technological step forward.”
“Liz,” he said accusingly. “We’re at war. From what I hear, we might not win. We really might not.”
She sat on a big boulder, and looked forlornly at the can in her hands. “I know. I’m sorry I’m being a bitch. I just…I feel so helpless.”
“Hey.” He went over and put his arm around her shoulder. “I’m the one who needs you to support me, remember, that was the deal.”
She grinned weakly up at him, squeezing his hand. “That was never the deal, baby.”
“So, are you cool with this?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Thanks, that means everything, you know that.”
Liz pulled him closer. “I’m so glad I’ve got you. I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else right now.”
“Well, I couldn’t face this without you.” He gestured at the kids. “And them. But the frigates are as far as we can go. We’ve been running ever since we got back from Elan. No farther. There won’t be any more surprises for us.”
“I hope you’re right, baby. I really do.”
***
The shower nozzles pumped water out at a velocity that pummeled Mellanie’s skin almost to the point of being painful. She didn’t even have to turn around; the water came at her from all sides, the nozzles sweeping up and down. Foam ran down her body as scented soap was mixed in by the management array. Cooler water flushed it away, its temperature invigorating her after the luxuriant heat. The water turned off, and warm dry air gushed out of vents all around the big marbled cubical, snatching the moisture away from her skin and blowing her hair about.
She wrapped a huge purple and cream towel around herself and went back out into the office suite’s bedroom. Michelangelo was still lying on the big bed. He watched her lazily as she began getting dressed.
“Damn, I’m glad you defected from Baron,” he said. “You’d be wasted on her, she’s a cold bitch.”
Mellanie flashed him a naughty grin. “Whereas we have a deep and meaningful relationship.”
“You’re good in bed. We both know that. A real turn-on.”
“You’re a good teacher.”
“Yeah?”
It was almost as if he were the bashful one, seeking reassurance. “I keep coming back, don’t I?” she said. “And we both know I’m doing well enough for the show that I don’t actually have to anymore. But I like it, I like it a lot.”
There was a growling sound from the bed. He rolled off the mattress and pushed his long highlighted hair back. Mellanie couldn’t help the way her eyes lingered on his body. It was like a youthful Apollo had returned to walk among the mortals once more.
“Hell…I don’t understand you,” he complained. “What is it you really want?”
She grinned as she struggled into her asymmetric top. “Your job.”
“You know ordinarily if some intern your age said that I’d just laugh it off as pitifully naïve. But with you it’s truly not funny.”
“Be careful whose face you tread on today, because it could be the one you’re fetching coffee for tomorrow.”
/>
“Duly noted.”
“Admit it, I did good on the lifeboat story, didn’t I?”
“I’ve never seen a senior Halgarth so defensive. Congratulations.”
“Black, one sugar.”
“You’re not that good,” he said with a scowl. “Not yet.”
“I know. I want to get the Sheldon lifeboats. Now that would be a real break while we all wait for the starships to come back from Hell’s Gateway.”
He gave her a pensive look. “How’s the other big story coming on?”
“The New York finance scandal?” she said with a sigh. “Not so hot. The leads are all dead and cold. Besides, the authorities are showing an interest. Where’s the impact of breaking something the rest of the pack all know about? Exclusivity is our goal and god, as you so rightly told me when I started here. See, I haven’t forgotten.”
“Yeah.” He nodded slowly.
“What?” She knew that reluctance; he hated giving away any advantage.
“Please?”
“All right, quick tutorial, you’re not thinking this problem through properly. You’re trying to track down three fairly successful lawyers who’ve been involved in some dodgy finance deals, right?”
“Yes.” She wasn’t telling anyone on the show about the Starflyer. Not yet. That would land her a show of her own, probably a studio of her own.
“You’re trying to chase after them. Wrong. That’s what the police will be doing; but they’re fugitives, they’ll be ready for that and take care to cover their tracks. Any decent hunter will come at their prey from the direction they least expect. So what you should have done is ask where would they go.” He gave her an expectant look.
“A crime syndicate that can protect them?”
“Close. You need a place where you can change your identity completely. And I don’t just mean some decent data registry alterations, a memory erasure, and a new face. If they’ve ripped off as much as you say they have, the Financial Regulation Directorate will chase them right across the Commonwealth for the next ten centuries. They need to be free to fritter away their new wealth in perfect safety without spending the rest of their lives looking over their shoulder. For that you need a lot more than a bit of cellular reprofiling. Their DNA will be on record, the FRD will always be able to identify them. So the thing they need above all else is a baseline DNA modification.”
“What’s that?”
“Damn, I never know if you’re taking the piss or not. That is a treatment similar to rejuvenation, when the clinic alters your DNA in every cell. Permanently. The person who comes out of the tank is literally not the same person who went in. Once you’ve had that done, along with your new birth certification, a decent back history, and all your desourced money, you’re home free. You can live where you want, even next door to your old family, and they’ll never know.”
“Where would they go for that?”
“Unless you own your own biogenetic medical facility, there’s only one place: Illuminatus. There’s a lot of very specialized, ultra-discreet clinics there which offer such a service.”
“I need to go there.”
“I just knew you’d say that. Even if you did, you haven’t got a clue where the clinics are. They don’t exactly advertise on the unisphere.”
“I’ll find them.”
Michelangelo gave an extravagant sigh. “One week ago, three people checked in to the Saffron Clinic on Allwyn Street, two men, one woman. I don’t know their names, but the time frame fits.” He gave a diffident moue. “I have contacts. I am still numero uno here, please remember.”
“Thank you,” she said sincerely.
“Mellanie, take care, Illuminatus isn’t the safest place in the Commonwealth.”
***
Ozzie woke up as slim beams of bright sunlight slid across his face. He grunted in dismay at the awakening. Yesterday’s disappointment was still churning through his mind, making him listless. It was snug inside the sleeping bag, and he could feel cool air on his face. Getting up was an effort.
“Damnit.”
Lying there moping wasn’t an option. That was too much like defeat, which he wasn’t going to admit. Not yet.
He unzipped his sleeping bag, and stretched lazily before shivering. All he was wearing were shorts and his last decent T-shirt. His hand felt around on the floor for his cord pants that he shoved his legs into. When he pulled on his check shirt there was a tearing sound as stitches popped along the sleeve.
“Not again!” When he examined the sleeve the split didn’t seem too bad.
He slipped into his old dark gray woolen fleece to keep the chill out while he put his boots on. Toes stuck out through the holes in the end of his socks. Today really was going to have to be sewing day. He gave his toes a closer look. The bruising had gone down. In fact, it had disappeared altogether. He couldn’t remember putting any salve on after giving the serial number pillar that very satisfactory kicking.
Outside the little shelter, Orion had already rekindled the fire from yesterday’s embers. Two metal mugs were balanced on a slatelike shard of polyp above the flames, heating some water.
Orion looked up and gave Ozzie a welcome smile. “Five teacubes left. Two chocolate. Which do you want?”
“Oh, what the hell, let’s live—What?”
“Tea or chocolate?”
“I thought we finished the chocolate yesterday.”
Orion rummaged through the various packets he’d spread out around him and held up the cubes in a palm. They were all foil-wrapped: five silver, two gold with green stripes. “No. Bourneville Rich, with double cream. Your favorite.”
“Right. Sorry. Yeah, man, chocolate is good.” Ozzie sat on the polyp bump. He winced as he straightened his leg.
“How’s the knee?” Orion asked.
No fucking way! “Still stiff,” he said slowly. “Where’s Tochee?”
“Gone to get some water. It was scouting around last night, seeing if it could find any sign of the machinery that works this place.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean? You said we should try and track down the gravity generator.”
“But we know there’s no electrical activity on the reef. Not that we can detect.”
“We haven’t looked that hard. Besides, you told Tochee to use its sensor gadget while it was in the jungle.”
“Yeah. Two days ago. But there’s not a whole lot of point now, is there? I mean, if there wasn’t anything at the serial number, then there certainly isn’t going to be anything in the middle of the trees.”
Orion stopped unwrapping the second chocolate cube. “Serial number?”
“Yeah,” Ozzie said sarcastically. “Big black pillar in the clearing. Me in a bad mood. Coming back to you now?”
“Ozzie, what are you talking about?”
“Yesterday. The pillar.”
“Ozzie, we walked to the spire at the end of the reef yesterday.”
“No no, man, that was the day before. We found the serial number yesterday.”
“On the spire? You didn’t say.”
“No, goddamnit. Yesterday. The pillar in the clearing. What’s the matter with you?”
Orion gave him a sulky look, pouting his lips. “I went to the spire yesterday. I don’t know where you went.”
Ozzie took a moment; the boy didn’t normally fool around like this, and he certainly sounded sincere enough.
Tochee emerged from the jungle, its manipulator flesh coiled around various containers it had filled with water. “Good morning to you, friend Ozzie,” it said through the handheld array.
“You didn’t find anything, did you?” Ozzie said. “Your equipment didn’t find any electrical activity. And you’ve traveled about five kilometers in that direction.” Ozzie pointed.
“That is correct, friend Ozzie. How did you know?”
“Good guess.” Ozzie told his e-butler to pull up yesterday’s files. The list that came up in his virtual vision were t
he visual and sensor recordings of their trip out to the reef’s end spire. “Show all files recorded in the last five days,” he told the e-butler. There was nothing relating to the serial number pillar. “Goddamn.” He unlaced his boot and pulled it off, then began squeezing his toes where the bruise ought to be. There wasn’t even a twinge. “Let me get this straight,” he said carefully. “Neither of you two remember walking to the middle of the reef?”
“No,” Tochee said. “I have not been there, though I believe that if we go, we might have some success in finding an access tunnel to the machinery that lies at the core of this reef. It would be the shortest distance.”
“Dead right, man. So let’s go, shall we?” He shoved his boot back on and stood up.
Orion held out his battered metal mug. “Don’t you want your chocolate?”
“Sure. Hey, have you been having any unusual dreams since we arrived here?”
“Nah. Just the usual dreams.” Orion pulled a morose expression. “Girls and such.”
Ozzie led the way at a fast pace. He followed the route that his handheld array’s navigation function produced, guiding him to the middle of the reef. As before, the trees were taller as they approached the area his virtual vision displayed. Today there were no beams of sunlight sliding horizontally past the thick ancient trunks. “It’s got to be here somewhere,” he said out loud as they began their third sweep of the central area.
“What has?” Orion asked. The boy had been watching him with some concern ever since they set out.
“There’s a clearing right in the middle.”
“How do you know?”
Because I was here yesterday, and so were you. “I saw it on the approach.” He stopped and told his e-butler to display all the visual files from the last couple of hours before the Pathfinder landed on the reef. When he checked through them, the jungle at the middle of the reef was unbroken. There was no central glade.