"Colonel, you're going to want to see this immediately," Lieutenant Commander Le said, bursting through the door into his office. Knoedler barely had time to turn around in his chair before she was tapping codes into his keyboard and bringing in the latest (encrypted) information from one of the deep space listening posts.
Knoedler watched in rapt attention. "They're finally back," he said. "And sending an SOS, too. Try to get Dykstra for me, Commander." She returned to her desk. Then he looked at the coordinates of the Hyperlight. The ship was in the same direction as the Phinon hyperspace breakout point. He didn't have any time to wonder about that before the visuals of the Phinon fleet came through.
Shit! Shit! Shit! "Nikki!" he shouted, forgetting to call her by her rank and not even noticing.
"I have Dykstra," she said. "Now what?"
"There should be"
"Wait!" she cried. "We're getting a data dump from deeptracking. That's what you want, right?"
"Yes. And tell Dykstra to meet us here immediately."
A few minutes later the situation had become clear to the colonel and the commander. "Those are the traces of the alien reaction drives that the distress call talks about," Knoedler said, more to himself than to Nikki since she could see them herself. "So far we've found six hundred thirty-four thousand individual signatures."
"This is scary," Nikki said. "How do you fight that many ships?"
"I don't know," Knoedler said. "I just don't know. But we're going to have to go out there and get the Hyperlight ourselves. My ship is the fastest available."
"And I don't suppose you want the Belt getting there first," Nikki added.
"Nope. Have you noticed we haven't heard anything from them yet about the distress call? At any rate, it's going to be another late night for us. Better have food sent in, enough for us and Dykstra."
"Your usual, Colonel?" Nikki asked.
"Yes," he said. Then: "Y'know, I'm sorry you haven't had much of a life outside of work lately, Commander."
"Have I complained? Sir."
"You don't need to add the `sir,' " Knoedler said. "I told you that."
"And I have a name besides `Commander,' " Nikki replied. "You used it just a few minutes ago."
"I did?" Knoedler honestly didn't recall. "I've been trying to remain professional," he said.
"What would happen if you stopped trying?"
Those words set off a train of erotic images that Knoedler had been incorporating into some very recent fantasies, but he was too controlled to show it. "Do you want me to tell you, Nikki?"
The door chime sounded and the autoannouncer intoned, "Dr. Dykstra is waiting." Knoedler frowned.
"I want you to show me, Tommy . . . sir," Nikki said, and with a sly smile went to answer the door.
"Wow. Less than two-and-a-half hours. That was fast," Bob said when Rick informed him that their distress call had already been answered. The lieutenant had been taking a much needed nap. "Yeah. Some Belt ship called the Queen Lucy. They say they're on a scientific mission to some rocks out near the Kuiper Belt. You buy that?"
"Hell no."
"They didn't say much else," Rick continued. "They gave their position and an ETA, but didn't mention anything about the Phinon fleet."
"Maybe they think we're space happy," Bob said, not seriously. "We didn't exactly come clean on everything either. What do you suppose they'll say once they find the Phinons in the stateroom?"
Five days went by. Bob and Rick continued to exchange brief messages with the Queen Lucy, but the lightspeed delay was annoying and made regular conversation impossible, and besides that, their rescuers seemed to be playing their cards close to the vest. The Phinons were still sleeping, but with each day the PMDP dosage had to be administered fifteen minutes earlier, so by now the aliens were getting shots less than eleven hours apart. Bob and Rick took turns feeding nutrient solution to their captives. The solution had been concocted based on an examination of the stomach contents of Phinons killed at Slingshot. They just inserted a tube into the mouth orifice on the "head" and poured in a liter each time. The aliens didn't seem to be losing weight.
Strangely, the Hyperlight had yet to receive a transmission from the System Patrol. This was something that Bob could not understand since there had been plenty of time for their signal to reach the inner system and for a reply to have come back, even if their superiors had wanted to think about what to say for a few days.
Finally Rick saw the drive flame of the Queen Lucy as it was slowing down to match velocities with them. "Our rescuer is a luxury liner," Rick said. "But it has a battleship's engine. This ship belongs to the Belt Defense Force. I'm sure of it."
"Okay, so it has the legs of a warship. Does it have the arms?"
"No way to tell, Bob. Sorry."
"No wonder they didn't want to talk about themselves," Bob said. " 'Course, I'm kind of stuck now. We committed treason when we took the ship out into the Oort cloud. We'll be doing it again if we let the Belt have this ship instead of blowing it up. This is becoming a habit."
"We could defect," Rick said. "I hear the weather is nice on Ceres."
The other ship matched velocities. Bob was impressed by the skill of the ship's pilot. He brought the Queen Lucy right alongside the Hyperlight on the first pass and into the groove so tight that relative drift velocities could be measured in centimeters per minute.
"They're hailing us," Rick said, and he put the voice on the loudspeaker.
"This is Captain Brinn of the Queen Lucy. Please roll your ship fourteen degrees so we may extend our docking tube to lock onto your door."
"Not so fast, Captain," Bob said "We know you're BDF. We want to talk a minute."
"Okay, this is Captain Brinn of the BDF. Do you guys freaking want to be rescued or not?"
I like this man, Bob thought. "We're not breathing our last wisps of air yet, Captain. We're just out of reaction mass. But this little ship can still blow your ass out of the sky and I'm willing to wait for a more polite BDF officer to come along," the lieutenant said.
There was a pause; then the reply came back: "I suppose the proper response to that is `Oh yeah!' or `Sez you!' but I think I'd rather just talk. What do you want to know?"
"What were you really doing way the hell out here?" Bob asked.
"As you no doubt know, Glacierville was hit by an alien raid. We were coming out here to see what else we could discover. Our mission isor rather, wasas secret as yours."
"I doubt that," Rick said softly enough so that the comm pickup would miss it.
Bob and Brinn continued to sound each other out, and finally Bob, as a form of confession, asked the most important question: "Do you have a supply of PMDP on board, and how long would it take you to get us back to the inner system? And if you don't have any PMDP, do you have a really strong room with a good lock on the door?"
There was a long pause, then Brinn said: "You have alien POWs along, don't you, Lieutenant?"
"You're quick, Captain. I like that," Bob said. "That's what we went out there for."
Bob felt a tug on his sleeve. Rick was trying to get his attentionwas pointing to the scanner display. Bob looked more closely, frowned, then looked at Rick who just shrugged. "Who?" Bob whispered.
"Don't know," Rick whispered back. "But they have Dykstra-Hague impellers and they're slowing down at a hundred gees. They'll be here in less than an hour. I'll listen for a hail."
"Where were we, Captain Brinn?" Bob said, but he was met with silence.
"They stopped transmitting," Rick said. "Guess they've seen that incoming boat, too."
Bob and Rick did not have to wait long before the approaching ship called. "Welcome back, gentlemen. This is Colonel Knoedler of System Patrol Intelligence. We've been expecting you . . . for quite some time. Dr. Dykstra has a question he wanted me to ask. `Did you get the present you were shopping for?' "
Rick and Bob looked at each other, then almost sadly, which was even a surprise to him, Bob replied, "I guess it's time we passed the fate of the Universe on to you. Yes, Colonel, we found it, and now it's Christmas morning."
Bob had to admit that the guys from the Belt had picked a comfortable means of travel. A luxury liner filled with scientific gear. What a great idea. The opulent meeting room that he, Rick, and the others were now gathered in was not only gorgeous, but comfortable. He leaned back in the nicely cushioned chair and continued to listen to Colonel Knoedler.
Knoedler had been telling them about the current state of affairs between the Belt and the Solar Union. The discovery of the Phinon fleet heading inside the Hague Limit had turned the cease-fire into peace, and now scientists from the Phinon Project and the Capitol Products docks were already on the way to the Belt to explain the new technology.
Of course, it hadn't hurt to have people like Knoedler behind the scenes pulling strings.
Rick was seated to Bob's immediate right, and then around beyond him sat Captain Brinn, the colonel, the colonel's (beautiful) assistant Lieutenant Commander Le, and a Belt general whose name Bob had failed to catch immediately to his left. It had been clear from the outset, despite having a Belt general along, that this meeting out here in deep space was Colonel Knoedler's show.
"Okay, that's the background," Knoedler continued. "We took an extra day outfitting my boat to hold the captured aliens, assuming there were any, and then it ate up some time when Commander Le and I had to stop on Ceres to pick up General Adams," ah, Adams, Bob thought, "but we couldn't avoid that since the Queen Lucy is a Belt ship.
"Which brings us to now. Lieutenant Nachtegall and Dr. Vander Kam will be returning on my ship to the Moon, as will our captives."
"But what about the Hyperlight, Colonel?" Bob asked. "We can't just leave her out here."
"And why not, Lieutenant? Let me be blunt about this. We need those Phinons on Luna. Everything else I could leave out here, myself included, just as long as we get the Phinons back to the High Command. Maybe some day someone will come out here and salvage the Hyperlight for a museum, but her race is run.
"As for the Queen Lucy, General Adams will be remaining on her with you, Captain Brinn. Given the equipment aboard her, she's needed out here to monitor the Phinon fleet.
"We leave immediately after the Phinons are transferred. By your leave, General?" Adams nodded. "Dismissed."
And that's that, Bob thought as he returned to the Hyperlight with Rick. Rick didn't have anything to say, so with a minimum of verbal exchanges they put the Phinons in rescue bags again for transport and carried them to the main lock. Others from the Queen Lucy took the aliens from there, and Bob and Rick went to gather up the boxes containing the dead Phinons and the implements they'd collected on their trip. Once those were transferred, they both stood for a moment at the lock.
"I can't find any appropriate words," Rick finally said. "The most important months of my life were spent with this ship."
"Mine too," Bob said. "I promise, once the war is over, you and I will come out here and bring her back home. We can plot her trajectory for the next million years, so I don't think we'll have trouble finding her."
With that, they left, and a few minutes later Bob watched from the window of Knoedler's boat as the Queen Lucy severed her connection to the Hyperlight. Then it was their turn, and Nikki Le separated her craft from the luxury liner, rotated, then threw the drive to full.
At over 100 gees, the Queen Lucy and the Hyperlight disappeared in their wake in a frustratingly short instant.
Even for someone who doesn't like long good-byes, Bob thought.
I don't think I've run like this in the last thirty years, Dykstra thought as he hurried down the corridor to Sammi's lab. The message from Colonel Knoedler that he was on the way back with the crew of the Hyperlight had come only minutes before, and he was anxious to tell Sammi right away. He had agreed to the colonel's request (not order) to not tell the woman about the reception of the distress call when it had come days before, and now he was eager to make up for keeping her in the dark about the fate of her friends.
And he couldn't just call, not when he'd have to tell her that one of the men hadn't returned.
Dykstra turned a corner, almost tripped, had to catch himself with a hand to the wall. How could I have forgotten my cane? He caught his breath a moment, winced as he set off again. Extra aches and pains for at least a week, he thought.
Finally he was at her lab, but he was almost out of breath. I won't even be able to talk to her until I catch my breath. He found himself staggering through the door, saw her hair as she turned in his direction, but she seemed to be seated in a fog. "Sammi . . ." he said, but then thrust his palm against the wall in a desperate attempt to hold himself up, and still found himself sinking to the floor. Out of the fog he saw Sammi rushing to him, her chair toppled over in her haste to reach him.
"Chris! Chris! Medical team, stat!" he heard, but it came from a far distant place.
And then all was crystal clear, and James Christian Dykstra found himself in a tunnel, with a bright light at the end, and he was moving toward it.
A near death experience. At least I hope it's just "near." His mind felt incredibly sharp, and he couldn't help but examine the walls of the tunnel and attempt to discern their composition, but he was moving too fast. So he examined the nature of his motion, duly noted the absence of inertial effects and the lack of wind, then patiently awaited his arrival at the light source.
Presently he found himself standing on some sort of open plain, and there were human figures in front of him, but they were backlit and the white light was too intense for him to be able to make out any of their faces.
Except for one, and she came forward to greet him.
"Hello, Jenny," he said.
Oh, the beauty she had at twenty, yet the nobility she'd acquired by sixty, he thought.
"Welcome, Chris. But you are not staying. There is still a little bit for you to accomplish," she said.
There was so much he wanted to say to her, even if this was only some kind of dream or his brain discharging chemicals in death. But what he did finally say was: "Why can't I see the others behind you?"
Jenny sighed. People sigh in heaven? "Always the scientist, aren't you? Do you think He doesn't understand your abilities? You have just come, but now it is already time for you to go." This time he did feel a wind, but it was blowing him back.
"Then why did I have to come at all?"
"You will know," Jenny said, and she smiled, a smile much like Sunshine's.
"Is Jamie here?" he called out even as he found himself falling away.
She just smiled at him as if amused by the question, and her smile faded into the distance as he found himself back in the tunnel, tumbling, and his chest hurt.
Dykstra awoke with a start, felt the tubes in his chest jerk, and realized he was in the High Command hospital. Almost immediately a doctor entered. "I'm Dr. Claire. How are you feeling, Dr. Dykstra?" she asked.
"Like I'm a hundred and twenty-six years old," he rasped out. "But then, I am."
"Well your heart isn't. Not anymore. We had to put in a mechanical unit. That was on orders from the top. They want the available medical telemetry. You're just too valuable to lose. Besides, at your age, regenerating your old one wouldn't have been a good idea anyway." She looked over the readouts on his med scanner. "You're looking good. But I want to keep you here for a few days, maybe even a week"
"I don't have a week"
"You most certainly do," she shot back sternly, and that was the end of his protest. "You also have a visitor. No more than a half hour, though. After that you're going to sleep again for a while." At that Dr. Claire left, passing Sammi who was on her way in.
"Chris! Thank God you're going to be all right. I was so terrified we had lost you."
For a moment Chris thought he saw the heavenly image of Jenny superimposed over Sammi, and he smiled. He decided not to mention his "trip" to her. Still, it had been nice to see Jenny again. "I can't leave until my work is done. Maybe when I'm two hundred or so."
"You were coming to tell me that the guys are on their way back, weren't you? You've been out for twenty-four hours. I know about that now. Why didn't you just call?" she asked.
"Did you find out that Pops isn't with them?" Dykstra had told Sammi the identity of the third crew member as soon as the Hyperlight was safely on her way. He could tell from her response that she had not heard the news. "That's why," he said.
Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn't start to cry. Finally she said, "He's with Steve now. I'm sure they have a lot to talk about."
"There are two Phinons coming back, too," Dykstra told her. "I'm sure you didn't hear about that, either. But the men were successful. Now it's up to you."
"You mean `us,' " Sammi said automatically.
"No. You."
"I don't understand."
"There's a Phinon fleet coming in, Samantha. They've converted their ships to reaction drives so they can get around inside the Hague Limit. But there are hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, of ships on their way. Right now they're all heading towards Jupiter, but it would be stupid to assume that they won't get to the rest of the Solar System in due time."
"Millions of ships? My God," she said. "You're not kidding."
"We can't fight that many ships, Sammi. To his credit, Colonel Knoedler apologized profusely for doubting me, and then thanked me for committing treason, because we needed those Phinons. Genano infection is the only idea we have right now that might ultimately be able to defeat them."
"But . . . um . . . I don't know what to say."
"You're allowed to feel overwhelmed," Dykstra said. "I do myself. And there's more. In the last few days, every human outpost, Union or Belt, out beyond the Hague Limit has been attacked by the Phinons. At least by now most of ours have been on the lookout, so it hasn't been the kind of rout that we took at Slingshot. The Phinons have only been attacking with a few ships at a time. Still, the High Command has ordered a full-scale fall back into the Hague volume, and every single pilot in the Solar System who has ever flown a military ship is on his way to either the Moon or Ceres. For what it's worth, we're putting together an armada of our own to see what they can do against that fleet. Since the Phinons are limited to reaction drives now at least we're not totally outclassed."
Dykstra wasn't sure about how much Sammi was actually listening to him. In fact, he wouldn't have been surprised if she'd missed most of what he was saying, and instead had only thoughts of "It's all up to me" running though her brain.
"At any rate, Rick and Bob should be back the day after tomorrow. I guess you'd better get whatever series of experiments that you need to perform in line. We're not going to want to wait any longer than we have to for the results."
"I'll, um, get right on it," Sammi said, then drifted away, not even remembering to utter the customary "get well soon" remarks one makes when leaving a sick friend.
Dykstra didn't notice the omission anyway.
Alone now, he glanced around his room, noted the monitoring instrumentation, watched the line on the screen that told him how optimally his new heart was operating. But these were just peripheral images to occupy his eyes while his mind continued to work.
He was somewhat ashamed of the minimal amount of work he'd been able to accomplish since returning to the Moon after the Hyperlight's departure, but there'd been all that political rigmarole to deal with, what with the situation with the Belt. At least that was over for now. In an ironic way, it was fortunate for the human family that they'd once again been fighting with each othertheir industries were already on a war footingwhen the Phinons had come.
We'll have ships rolling off the lines continuously, he thought. And these will have the new drive. Come to think of it, by now we could have lots of ships equipped with it, and should have. I'd better ask Knoedler about that. Apart from the Hyperlight and his boat, I can think of only nine others that are out there. We should have more. Ergo, we do. The Colonel has something up his sleeve. He would have had to keep it hidden from the Belt to keep his own superiors happy. And secret from me, too.
Dykstra thought about the Phinon ships. Reaction drives using partial mass conversion. And out of the million or so in the fleet, only two kinds of ships had been foundthe "big" ones, the kind that hit Slingshot and seemed to hold a crew of eight, and the "little" ones like the one that Michaels met up with on OEV 1. He envisioned his penultimate worst scenario (the worst was simple annihilation of humanity). The Phinons would hit the environs around Jupiter, then come through again and hit each of the planets and concentrations of civilization in turn. Humans would be forced to hide out: among the rocks of the Belt, buried deep under the surfaces of the planets, perhaps at the bottoms of the oceans. The Phinons have been out in cometary space so long, they might not even remember what an ocean is. Then again, I don't think remembering has anything to do with it. But as long as some technical part of society could hold out, eventually we'd get them through genano diseases attacking their bodies or nanotech killbots attacking their machines. To date, there was no evidence whatsoever that the Phinons had nanoscale technology. For of one thing I am certain. The Phinons cannot match us in innovation. Their intelligence is not like ours. Their use of reaction drives for this fleet is all the proof I need of that.
But it would be a shame if it went that far. Much better it would be to defeat the Phinons early. And that thought led the preeminent genius of the 21st century to unlock those doors in his mind behind which he had hidden the ideas for the most potentially frightening weaponry conceived by anyone. Ever. James Christian Dykstra had given the human race technological miracles that had unlocked the Solar System. Along the way he had deliberately not delved into every possible aspect of those technologies, had deliberately not proven to himself that some of the weapons of which he could conceive he could ultimately build. Let the blood be on someone else's hands.
But now was the time to reconsider.
He hadn't had much time to think about it when the doctor had him put under again, and shortly after he awoke the next morning he was told that he had visitors and asked if he wanted to see them.
"Of course I want to see them!" he said, annoyed at the nursebot for even thinking it was an open question.
Within minutes Sammi, Hague, and three squirrels entered.
The squirrels were not roaming free. At least, not on the floor. On Hague, now that was a different matter. The little man was wearing what looked like a heavy leather work coat, and around this, as if they were playing on the trunk of a tree, scampered the squirrels.
"Hello, Chris," Sammi said. "Dr. Hague wanted to come and bring his . . . friends. He was quite adamant about it, too."
"Oh, yes, Dr. Dykstra. Yes. My friends wanted to come, too. Oh yes. Yes. You are feeling well, yes?"
"I'm improving, Arie. Thank you. I'll be out in another few days and I'll be able to visit you and the squirrels in the lab again." It had essentially been a daily thing for Dykstra in the past few weeks to pay Arie and his pets a visit. The diminutive scientist had a way of cheering him up, and the chatter of the squirrels reminded him of his home in the mountainsin the days before the war, that is.
"Good. Oh good. They missed you, yes, yes, Dr. Dykstra. They missed you. Sarobi the most, oh yes, oh yes. But also the others. Yes." One squirrel suddenly perched on Hague's shoulder and started to chatter. It was, in fact, Sarobi, which Dykstra could tell now that she'd stopped racing around. Hague seemed to wait until the squirrel was finished then said, "She is expressing delight. Oh yes. Yes. She is happy to see you. Poor squirrels. Small brains, oh yes. No storage space for words. No."
"Tell her I'm happy to see her, too," Dykstra said, and Hague commenced to chatter and squeal, as if a fourth squirrel had joined the other three.
Sammi was smiling at all this. "I have a hard copy of Arie's paper on squirrel communications," she said. She handed Dykstra a sheaf of pages. "He wrote it himself, then the computer edited it. This is actually a download of the published version from the Journal of Mammalian Science. The editor was quite impressed." In just a few months Hague had learned more about squirrel "society" than had ever even been suspected.
Hague seemed to be involved in a "conversation" with Sarobi. Dykstra said, "Here we are worrying about the future of humanity, and Arie finds time to see what the squirrels are up to. Maybe that will ultimately prove to be more important."
Bob will be back in a few minutes, Sammi was thinking. Then what? She was down at the High Command docks, waiting near the berth where Knoedler's ship would soon be. The ship was only a few minutes out. There were plenty of other people around, technicians she'd never met, a few other scientists from the biology section that she did recognize, assorted brass. The technicians were all clustered around a high-tech cage, the temporary future home of the two Phinon prisoners. Nospecimens, Sammi thought with satisfaction.
Dykstra was also there, waiting nearby, this time with his cane firmly in hand as he leaned against the wall. They'd brought a chair for him, but he was stubbornly refusing to use it. He looked drawn and tired. At least he was out of the hospital. For now. That's the problem. Chris has been scared. We need him so badly, and he knows it, too. He doesn't want to die on us. But I bet he isn't afraid of deathhe's just afraid of letting us all down.
Present also was Hague, although the squirrels didn't make the trip. Sammi was unsure of what Hague had been told about Knoedler's return. He was clearly excited that Rick would soon be back, but she didn't know if he'd been told about the Phinons. Hague would go absolutely berserk when in the presence of Phinon technologythere was a wrongness to it that the savant just couldn't handle. What would he do when he saw a member of the species that created that technology? That was a question that also concerned the System PatrolHague was enveloped by two escorts, no doubt with sedatives at the ready.
And how would she feel when she saw a living member of the species that killed her husband? Specimens, dammit! Specimens.
A klaxon sounded and Sammi turned to look out through the airdam into the sky beyond. Knoedler's ship was in view now, coming in smoothly, and then with silent grace it slipped through the dam and settled gently into its slot. Within moments the side door opened, but first the techs entered, emerging a minute later carrying out the still comatose aliens.
They look like lizards made out of pipes, Sammi thought, but her view of them was so short that she didn't even have time to examine her feelings. She glanced over at Hague, but he seemed simply curious. "Ah, the Phinons, the Phinons, the alien breed, oh yes, yes," he was saying.
Then she did have a chance to examine her feelings, though not about the aliens. Bob walked out of the ship accompanied by Lieutenant Commander Nikki Le.
She'd met Nikki once before, but hadn't actually talked to her. She was just the new aide to Colonel Knoedler, and though Sammi noticed the woman's physical attractiveness, she hadn't thought about it much.
But she was thinking about it now.
Why is he walking with her? What were they doing out there? Who does she think she is, anyway? The questions came unbidden and the more rational part of Sammi's mind recognized how silly they were. But there was a hollow developing in her stomach that she couldn't get rid of, and a slow sinking feeling, different in magnitude, but not in kind, from that which she felt when she was notified of Steve's death.
Dammit, pull yourself together! After the send-off you gave him, what did you expect? You don't have any claims on him. Be careful nowhere he comes. Bob had spotted her, and with Nikki, was walking over. Give him a hug . . . She embraced him. Good, one second, two, let go.
"We're all so glad you're back, Bob. But it was sad to hear about Pops," she said as she let the embrace lapse.
"We were successful, Sammi. Wouldn't have been without him, though," Bob said. "Have you met Lieutenant Commander Le?"
"Once before. Hi," Sammi said.
"Hello again," Nikki replied.
"I'm going to go get cleaned up before the debriefing," Bob said. "I'll look you up later, Sammi." And then he was gone. But Sammi was satisfied to note that he went to the right, and Nikki to the left, when they hit the corridor outside the docking bay.
By the time Sammi turned back around, she saw that the others had also left the ship. Knoedler had gone straight to Dykstra, and Rick had gone straight to Hague, and though she could hear only snatches of that conversation, it was clear that Hague was animatedly filling Rick in on the latest research with the squirrels. He would have had to start from the beginning since the squirrels weren't on the Moon when Rick had departed. Then she heard a call of "Rick! Rick!" coming from behind her and she turned to see a gorgeous young woman running in. And who is this . . . bouncy-wouncy person?
"Paula?" Rick said. "What are you doing here?"
"The station was evacuated. All the pilots were brought here." She caught up to him then and gave him a decidedly affectionate embrace, then kissed him full on the lips. Well, I guess I can write him off, too. What the hell was going on out there? "Oh, I'm so glad to see you." The girl looked around. "But where is Pops?"
Before Rick could tell Paula, Sammi left. That would be reliving too painful a memory for her, seeing someone else being given that kind of bad news. She wondered, however, what Rick would say. But she was certain he would be gentleshe had caught that look in his eye when he'd recognized that it was Paula calling to him. Whatever romantic interest the brilliant EE had ever had in her had since gone on to an obviously more fertile field.
Fortunately for her feelings, the next few days were so filled with work for Sammi that she had little time to think about them. Instead of burying herself in her work, this time she was in danger of having her work bury her.
The Phinons were being held in a cage on the very lowest level of the High Command. It was a special sort of cage, designed with gravity control, the atmosphere "mix" that the men had found in the Phinon comet, and internal ultra-high-fidelity holograms so that it would look to the aliens like they were inside one of their own spaceships. No one expected them to be fooled by thisafter all, the food would still be the same all-purpose goop. But at least they would be unable to plot a course of action.
There was a viewing area for people who wanted to watch the aliens. The first day this was occupied at one time or another by everyone working on the Phinon Project. Sammi had gone to look, briefly. The viewing screen was oriented so that it looked like one whole wall of the Phinon cage was missing. But there were too many others there, and the fact was that she had too much work to do. After a couple of days the theater would often stand empty, but Sammi had yet to find time to get down there.
Bob and Rick had returned with riches beyond compare for the biology team of the Project. Just sampling all of the video data from the trip to get an idea of what was in the cache had taken her a full day. The views of the Phinons mating had been the most popular; you could bet those places on their shoulders would get extra attention once
Once we kill them, Sammi thought.
One of the other things that Sammi had found especially interesting was that some of the Phinons had fired guns with their "feet." An opinion was emerging that perhaps the Phinons' "head reversal" was equivalent to human right- or left-handedness. Andy held this view. Since both of the Phinon prisoners were "top-headed," further examination of the physiological difference between the two types would have to wait.
Of more importance to her was the nature of the Phinon regenerative capabilities. With a nasty grin she had been working on understanding how that system must perform. She was certain that she could turn it to the advantage of her genanites.
She'd had no chance to talk with Bob since his return other than as they passed once in a corridor. He was as busy as she. It was right after Dykstra had notified her of the time of the funeral service for Pops. She had neutrally greeted Bob when she saw him and asked, "Will I see you at the funeral?"
"No," he'd said. "I'll be out of here again by then. Commander Le and I are being sent to Jupiter with a big ferry boat to try to get out most of the VIPs before the Phinon wave breaks."
Her again, Sammi had thought, but then it was back to work for both of them.
Late at night two days after that Sammi looked up from her screen with bloodshot eyes and decided to take a break. She couldn't go to sleepnot yet, not with so much work to do. It occurred to her that now might be a good time to go down and look at the Phinons in their cage. In fact, it was her last chance to see both together since one was scheduled to be carved up tomorrow. Specimens. That's all they are. She was interested in hearing how the Phinons talked since they did communicate vocally, though perhaps not exclusively that way. She'd been told that it was a "clicky-clacky" sort of language, whatever that meant. She hadn't had time to listen to any of the recordings that had been made.
Sammi took the elevator down then walked slowly along the rough corridor. At this level, the walls were just bare rock. If Chris's bad scenario comes about, I might be seeing a lot more of these kinds of hallways. It's just a cave really. Be a helluva way to live.
Just before she entered the viewing room, she heard voices, and strange, well, clicky-clacky sounds. She walked in to find no one there except for Hague. "Hi, Arie," she said.
"Yes, oh yes," he said, then: "Clickety-click, click, clack clack clack, kickle-kick, t'ch, t'ch, t'ch." He was staring at the two Phinons. It was clear he wasn't responding to her, had never even noticed her enter.
Sammi stayed for ten minutes, tried to search her feelings, but found nothing inside her right now except for a stone coldness. Or is it numbness? She didn't know what she'd expected to find. Some kind of epiphany? Specimens. Just specimens, was all she could say about the Phinons. She left with that thought on her mind.
Hague, intent on the Phinons in a way only he could be, never even knew she'd been there.