Massul was picking at one paw. “What are we to do with you humans?”
“I would think that our friends would have some suggestions,” Corfu said.
“Yes, yes, of course. Well, see to it. I have had a long day and I am wearied. Take them up to Shiva and let him decide.”
September and Ethan didn’t react to the name, but Williams and most of the scientists certainly did. As they were marched out of the court chamber the teacher fell back with his friends.
“That’s not a Tran name,” he informed them.
“Didn’t think it was,” said September. “Didn’t sound right.”
“It’s human, from one of the ancient babel-tongues. Pre-Terranglo. It’s from a dialect that was known as Sanskrit. In the Hindu religion Shiva was the god of death and destruction.”
“What’s in a name?” September muttered. “I was born in July.”
“Are you saying,” Ethan said, “that on top of the beamers and skimmers and lights we’re supposed to believe that there are ancient human gods wandering around here?”
“As Skua says, it’s just a name. I just thought you should know.”
Their escort marched them out of the castle, but instead of turning back toward the harbor they headed west and out of town. Corfu chatted with his own people, unsuccessfully tried to engage Hunnar in casual conversation. He had better luck with Grurwelk Seesfar, much to everyone’s surprise.
They turned up a well-worn path that led between a pair of ruined buildings and found themselves climbing a trail that switchbacked up the steep slope on the far side of Yingyapin harbor. Ethan tilted his head and regarded the ascent ahead uncertainly. The slope was climbable for about three-quarters of its height. Above that the broken talus and boulders gave way to sheer cliff. None of their guards carried ropes, grappling hooks, or any other kind of mountaineering apparatus. Surely they weren’t going to be expected to climb that. For one thing, humans were much better climbers than Tran.
At the base of the cliff Corfu turned to the left. A much narrower trail wound its way northward along the base of the sheer rock wall. Whether poorly cleared or intentionally camouflaged Ethan couldn’t decide. It was an excruciatingly difficult hike for the Tran. They were used to having the wind propel them effortlessly across the ice. Here, on rough ground, their huge clawlike chiv tended to be more of a hindrance than a help. Obviously used to the climb, Corfu bore the strain uncomplainingly. Hunnar, Elfa, and the rest of the Tran in the visitors’ party grimaced and tried to ignore the pain in their feet. It must have been, Ethan reflected, like walking in too-tight boots balanced on six centimeter-high spikes. You had to move slowly and carefully or you’d twist an ankle or worse.
As a result even Milliken Williams, who was not the most athletic of men, managed to keep up easily with their escort.
Ethan was only mildly surprised when Corfu finally halted outside what looked like a bare rock wall, touched a hidden switch, and caused a large slab of gray schist to swing aside to reveal a well-lit tunnel beyond. They’d endured so many surprises in the past twenty-four hours he was sure he was beyond being surprised anymore.
He was wrong.
The tunnel they entered had not been chipped from the solid rock with picks and hand shovels. The walls were smooth and straight, the ceiling gently curved. Before they’d walked very far the rock gave way to metal, the metal to plastic as the passageway opened into an endless, hangar-sized cavern full of machinery. The air was alive with humming and whistling, electronic Muzak. It stank of lubricants, steam, and electricity.
Sight and smell alike were foreign to Tran-ky-ky. Pipes and conduits snaked off into the distance. Suddenly the presence among the Tran of Yingyapin of a few beamers and skimmers seemed but a trifling breach of regulations. If whoever had provided them, to Massul’s minions was a candidate for mindwipe, here was interference on a scale sufficient to qualify the perpetrators for physical dissolution.
Whatever the installation’s purpose, it was clear it hadn’t been put in place overnight. Design and scale suggested years of preparation and actual construction. It still wouldn’t be difficult to keep the whole business a secret, as September pointed out.
“We’re a helluva long ways from Brass Monkey and what with the weather on this world being like it is, why, you could build a whole city a few kilometers from the outpost.”
A city this was not, though it employed a small army of human technicians. They looked up curiously from their work as the parade passed them by. None tried to engage the visitors in conversation. Ethan found that odd. The presence of strangers within the complex ought to have provoked more than curiosity. Surely even the most ingenuous among them knew they were participating in an illegal operation. That might have something to do with their reticence.
“I don’t recognize any of this.” Cheela Hwang was studying the complex machinery intently. “I wish some of the people from our engineering department were here.”
“Be glad they’re not,” Ethan told her.
“Some kind of mining operation?”
“Possible.” September was as puzzled as any of them as to the complex’s purpose. “Maybe they found a big ore body here and they’re digging it out on the sly. You’d have to do it that way, since you wouldn’t be able to get permission from the authorities. On a Class IVB world any minerals would be left untouched, kept in trust as it were for the locals. Maybe whoever’s responsible—and they’ve sunk a lot of credit into this operation—is paying off Massul and Corfu and the others with beamers and skimmers and such.”
The deeper they marched into the complex, the easier it became to sense the vastness of the installation. The temperature here had risen to just below human optimum. Corfu and his troops seemed halfway acclimated, but Elfa and the other Tran from the icerigger were suffering, their long tongues hanging out as they panted incessantly, their bodies fighting to rid their systems of excess heat. Ethan and his companions had switched off their survival suits.
Corfu directed them into a large service elevator. It barely held all of them and would have been a good place to try overpowering their captors. Once again September vetoed dal-Jagger’s suggestion. At close quarters even a badly aimed beamer could do horrible damage to mere flesh and bone.
The lift ascended slowly, eventually depositing them in a deserted hallway. Corfu led them to a pair of doors which parted to reveal a spacious circular room. Free-form windows spotting the far wall looked out over sandstone monoliths completely enshrouded in fog. When the mist parted Ethan could see gentle slopes lining a smoking valley. Taller plumes of fog or smoke streaked the otherwise cloudless sky.
Here then was the proof of the volcanism which Hwang and her associates had been so sure existed. Yet there was something about the massive plumes that didn’t look right. They did not vary in thickness or intensity and showed no signs of fluctuating in strength. Ethan had visited a few hot springs in his life and their output was never this consistent.
“Perhaps the installation we walked through utilizes the subsurface volcanic heat for power.” He nodded toward the windows. “This vented steam could be a by-product of energy generation.”
“Probably is,” September agreed, “but I don’t think volcanism has anything to do with it.”
Any chance of pursuing September’s thoughts further was eliminated as they were pushed into the room, which on closer inspection most resembled a conference chamber combined with an office. Their beamer-wielding guards split up to flank the entrance. Corfu strode toward the windows and bent over a high-backed chair, whispering.
A small, dark-skinned man (though not as dark as Williams) rose from the chair. His back was to them and he was staring out at the smoking valley. Ethan wondered what this room would look like from the outside. Unless you stumbled into it, he was sure it would blend perfectly into its rocky surroundings. Even the free-form windows would be difficult to identify from a distance. He didn’t have to debate whether this was the resu
lt of camouflage or aesthetics.
As the man turned to face them he continued listening to Corfu. Ethan saw no evidence of a translator in the man’s ear. It followed that he was as fluent in Tran as any of them. His manner was preoccupied, nervous, and intense. He was smaller than Williams and his structure was delicate without in any way being effeminate. When he spoke he sounded preoccupied and almost apologetic.
“Please, all of you, sit down. I am sorry for the manner in which you were brought here, but as you will learn it was necessary. Until I have determined how your purpose and intent in being here will affect our functions, I must be cautious.”
“We’re more interested in your purposes and intent,” said Williams.
The man turned to him, tight-lipped. “Already I don’t like you. Please keep your mouth closed until you are spoken to.”
Not very apologetic, Ethan mused. Not all the fires here burned beneath the smoking vale beyond the windows.
Williams bristled but kept quiet. Their interests would not be served by provoking a confrontation before they’d learned anything. September stepped forward and performed introductions for human and Tran alike. The man listened politely while Corfu smirked in the background. When Hunnar and Elfa were introduced and what they represented described, the man began shaking his head slowly while gazing at the floor, giving the appearance of one who’s just lost a paper clip and whose sole desire was to find it immediately.
“I’ve never heard of your union,” he said when he finally looked up at them. “Unfortunately, cut off as we are here in the southern part of your world it is impossible for us to keep up with native affairs elsewhere. I am going to believe you because I’d like to. Your union suits our purpose here.”
Ethan pointed to Corfu. “That’s what he said.”
“Yes.” The man smiled thinly at the merchant. “Corfu has been a great help to me.” Ethan noted that there was no mention made of Massul fel-Stuovic, emperor of all Tran-ky-ky.
“You must forgive my forgetfulness. I have been very busy and it has been some time since I was required to practice anything resembling the social amenities. I am Dr. Shiva Bamaputra. I am in charge of the installation here at Yingyapin.”
“Quite a setup,” September commented.
“It is fairly impressive, isn’t it?”
“Enough to impress even a Commonwealth inspectorate. Why don’t you apply for a permit for whatever it is you’re doing here? It would make things a lot easier for you.”
“You choose to affect the air of an uneducated bumpkin, Mr. September, but I think I know better. I think you know as well as I why I cannot do that. Why do you think we built underground here if not to escape detection from those who would disagree with our intentions? We would have had to do this in any event in order to preserve heat. Heat is very important to what we are doing, you see, and even fusion stations are not unlimited in what they can achieve.”
Then volcanism wasn’t involved, Ethan reflected. “Just what is it you are doing here?”
Bamaputra looked past him, past all of them. “Something the Commonwealth would not approve of, I think. The reaction of the Councilors of the United Church would be stronger still. They’re all so stiff and formal, so tradition-bound and conservative that even if they saw the chance to help those in need, they wouldn’t do so if it didn’t fit their precious regulations. They would shut us down in an instant despite the benefits that are accruing to the people of this world.” He turned back to face the windows that overlooked the valley.
“We are Tranforming.”
“That’s a contradiction in terms,” Hwang said. “This world is already ‘Tranformed.’ ”
He glanced back at her. “How familiar are you with the physiology and history of the Tran?”
“We’ve made a few interesting discoveries,” Ethan told him.
Bamaputra eyed him a moment, then nodded. “Yes, I’ve noticed that several of you seem very comfortable with these people as well as with their language. I will presume you are cognizant of the basics, then. If I go too fast for you or mention something you are not familiar with, please interrupt and I will elucidate.
“There is nothing complex about what we are doing here. Three fusion plants have been installed deep within this part of the continental plateau. We are using the production of these plants not only to power our installation but to melt the ice sheet from the underside up. You will be interested to know that where it clings to the continental shelf in this area the oceanic ice sheet is in places less than twenty meters thick. That is one reason why we chose this peninsula as our base of operations. The warming of the atmosphere in this vicinity and the concurrent melting of surface ice is the by-product and not the principal intent of our operation.”
“Why?” asked Blanchard.
“Because this atmosphere needs more of two things: water vapor and carbon dioxide. In addition to melting the ice sheet we are pumping water vapor back into the air. To produce the carbon dioxide that accompanies it we extract oxygen from the air and add carbon from large coal deposits directly beneath this station. There are substantial archaic seams of anthracite in the area. It seems strange to burn a fossil fuel for no other reason than to intentionally pump it into the atmosphere.”
No scientist, Ethan was struggling to follow the conversation, which was why Bamaputra was making everything as simple as possible.
“The greenhouse effect on Tran-ky-ky is weak. We intend to artificially increase it to the point where enough of its sun’s heat is retained to raise the surface temperature as much as eighteen degrees.”
“What is all this talk?” Hunnar finally asked his friend.
Ethan replied without taking his eyes off Bamaputra. “He is talking about raising the temperature of your planet considerably, to well above the point where ice becomes a corpse.”
“You’re talking a long time,” September was telling their host. “You won’t live long enough to see it to fruition.”
“Ah, but that is where you are wrong, my large friend. Because the climatological balance on Tran-ky-ky is so delicate, it is in fact possible to effect substantial shifts in temperature over a surprisingly short period of time.”
“What I don’t understand,” Ethan told him, “is why you’re bothering. All that’s going to happen naturally.”
“Yes, but the change will take ten to twenty thousand years. The planet will enjoy its briefer warm cycle before swinging back out in its perturbed orbit and freezing again. Then the down cycle of life will resume. The oceans will refreeze, the temperature will drop permanently back below freezing, and the Tran will once more be forced to cower in their caves and feudal castles, reduced to devoting their racial energies just to surviving. No, you are wrong about the time we require to change this. You forget your elementary physics.” Several of the scientists grimaced. If this reaction pleased Bamaputra, he gave no sign of it.
“Once the ice sheet has melted through, the defrosting effect will accelerate even in the absence of above-freezing temperatures since the exposed dark water will absorb and distribute the sunlight which the ice has previously reflected. The result will be accelerated shrinkage of the ice sheet and the expansion of open ocean into the northern and southern temperate zones. The level of the seas will rise fifty meters and more. Those Tran inhabiting low-lying areas will be forced, as would be the case in fifteen thousand years or so, to abandon them and move to higher ground. There will be a mass migration from the low islands to the higher land of the continents. As the air warms, these will become inhabitable, as they historically have been before when the climate moderates. In point of fact, they will come here.
“Our initial research suggested that this, the southern continent, was the area of highest population density in warmer times. There will be a corresponding migration and physiological change in the animal population as well. There will be some deaths among the Tran because their necessary physical change from a cold state to a warm one will also
be accelerated.” He shrugged. “This is unavoidable.”
“How many deaths?” September’s voice was very low.
“Impossible to predict with accuracy. They are certainly to be regretted, but you might reflect that in earlier times such deaths occurred naturally as a consequence of the long, arduous journeys from the islands to the continents. These deaths will be prevented.”
How?” Blanchard asked him.
“When the Commonwealth learns what is happening here by means of relay from the outpost, regulations will have to be put aside in favor of rescuing as much of the native population as possible. Their arcane restrictions do not apply in the face of a ‘natural’ catastrophe affecting large numbers of sentients. The Tran of Yingyapin, quietly aided and abetted by us, will do likewise. It is not in our interest to have anyone die unnecessarily.”
“Nonetheless, you’re willing to accept those deaths as an inevitable consequence of what you’re doing as opposed to modifying your goals,” Jacalan said.
“You must consider what the final result of our work here will be,” Bamaputra said emphatically. “As the temperature rises the Tran will begin to change physically. They will lose their dan and chiv and long fur and adopt the golden-furred Saia state millennia earlier than otherwise. A much more natural state of affairs. They will become land dwellers instead of ice dwellers.
“Don’t you see what this will mean for them? They will be given a boost no other generation of Tran has ever had. In a congenial climate they will be able to develop properly, to achieve the advanced civilization they are capable of but which was always aborted by the onset of this brutally cold climate. For the first time in their history they will be able to reach a level of civilization high enough to enable them to retain it through any future onsets of frigid weather. As a result they will be ready to enter into not associate but full membership in the Commonwealth thousands of years earlier than would otherwise be possible.