Spinneret

"You keep saying the metal is 'gone,'" Perez said. "Gone where? The center of the planet? And more importantly, how? I don't know much chemistry, but I do know yanking iron atoms out of a solid hammer ought to be impossible."

"Agreed," Hafner shrugged. "So should getting those atoms to slide through the soil. I don't know how it was done, either; but I might know where to look for the answers."

Meredith straightened up in his seat, belatedly touching his terminal's audio record button. "The Rooshrike base?"

"No, I'm pretty sure they aren't involved in any of this. The source of the effect is on Astra … and I think it's a localized source, as well." He hesitated. "I suppose I should explain my reasoning on that one. Basically, I'm assuming this leeching effect singles out metals because of their electrical conductivity, which probably implies the mechanism is electromagnetic in origin. Anyway, it occurred to me that ions dissolved in water also act somewhat like conductors, and that whatever force draws the metal atoms might draw those ions, too."

Meredith had a sudden flash of insight. "The offshore mineral deposits. Right?"

Hafner blinked in obvious surprise. "That's exactly right, Colonel. When the ions reach shore and come out of solution, their conductivity disappears and they don't go any farther into the ground."

Meredith tapped some computer keys, and seconds later had a map of the offshore deposits. "So the reason only this continent is bordered by the desposits is that the metal is being drawn and deposited here!"

Perez snorted. "A great theory. With twenty-five million square kilometers to search for this alleged El Dorado, it would be years before you could be proved wrong. Except that we already know the metals aren't here."

"Not necessarily," Meredith countered. "All we really know is that they have to be deeper than the Rooshrike's half-kilometer range. And as for finding them, that much metal should be a gigantic mascon. A properly positioned geosat could pinpoint it in days—" He broke off at Hafner's look of strained patience. "Or do you have an easier way, Doctor?"

"I think so." Hafner leaned over the desk, touched the coastline on both sides of Splayfoot Bay. "The deposits are closest to the surface along here, which indicates to me that the El Dorado, as Mr. Perez calls it, is somewhere to the east and relatively close to us here. However"—he shifted his finger— "when Carmen and I flew over the Dead Sea last month, we found very similar deposits—but on the northwest shoreline."

There was only one logical conclusion, and Meredith reached it without trouble.

"Mt. Olympus. The volcano."

Hafner nodded solemnly. "Mt. Olympus—except that it's not a volcano. The rocks don't show the characteristics of lava flow, and the overall shape doesn't fit with the viscosity of the samples I took." He hesitated, but only for a second. "Colonel, I realize all this sounds pretty unbelievable, and I'm painfully aware there are a lot of questions I haven't got even half-baked answers for yet. But what happened today can't be explained by any science I know of—"

"You want to take an expedition to Olympus for a closer look?" Meredith interjected mildly.

"Yes, sir. And the sooner the better."

The colonel shifted his attention to Carmen. "I take it you've already checked out the logistics?"

She reddened a bit. "Almost everything Dr. Hafner would need seems to be available, sir," she said. "I haven't logged any orders yet, of course, but all it would really involve would be pulling one of the flyers off survey work and three or four mountain-trained soldiers from routine duty."

"A pilot?"

"I thought I'd do that myself. All the pilots are technically due for downtime, anyway."

"Um. Actually, Doctor, your theory sounds a lot more believable than anything else I've heard this afternoon. When do you want to leave?"

"Just a minute, Colonel," Perez cut in before Hafner could speak. "I don't know whether you two cooked up this bafflegab smokescreen together or whether it was a solo effort, but it is not going to get you out of answering my charges of mismanagement."

Behind Perez, Hafner took a half step forward. "Unless you have a couple of advanced degrees I don't know about, I'd suggest you keep blanket assessments to yourself," he told the Hispanic shortly. "I know what I'm talking about, and I doubt very much that you do."

"And as to your ridiculous charges—" Meredith began.

"Why don't you come with us tomorrow, Cris?" Carmen interrupted suddenly.

All three men looked at her. "To Olympus?" Perez frowned. His eyes flicked to each of the others, as if looking for a trap. "Why?"

"Why not? It would give you the chance to see Peter test his theories. You could be sort of an unofficial observer for the Council."

"The Council doesn't need any observers there—unofficial or not," Meredith growled.

Perez sent a tight smile in the colonel's direction. "Your point is well taken, Miss Olivero," he said, bowing his head briefly. "I accept. With the doctor's permission, naturally."

Carmen shifted her eyes to Hafner. "Peter?"

Hafner's expression was that of a man facing a tax audit, but he shrugged fractionally. "As long as he stays out of the way," he said. "We're leaving before sunrise, though—I want to be ready to start climbing as soon as it's light enough."

Perez's smile this time had a trace of bitterness to it. "Those of us who work the fields are used to rising early."

"Um." Hafner's irritation seemed to soften a bit. "Well, be at Martello by four o'clock. Colonel, thank you for your time and permission on this. I hope we'll have some answers for you when we get back." He took Carmen's arm and together they left the office.

"You're invited out, too," Meredith told Perez.

"Of course." The Hispanic walked to the door, paused with his hand on the knob.

"But this matter is not settled, Colonel. Miss Olivero's efforts to sidetrack me have merely postponed the inevitable." Turning, he wrenched open the door and strode through it.

Deliver me from demagogues. With a sigh, Meredith let himself sag from the straight-backed military posture he'd adopted for Perez's benefit. Once, he'd thought this command would be the sure way to that long-awaited general's star; later, as the survey reports came in, his optimism had waned, replaced by grim determination. After today—

After today, he'd be lucky to keep his eagles. Or his butt.

But until the scapegoat-hunters in Congress got to him, he was still in charge; and neither hell, high water, Perez, nor Astra itself was going to change that.

Picking up the missing-items printout again, he began making a list for the Aurora to take back to Earth.

Chapter 9

The early morning air was relatively cool, but nothing, Perez decided, compared to the chill in the flyer's cockpit as the expedition burned through the sky toward Olympus. Carmen's scientist friend—Hafner—clearly still considered Perez an u

The view was lousy, and as his presence seemed to put a damper on Hafner's talkativeness he didn't learn anything useful. But he'd long since learned that distinction was a vital ingredient of power, and for that reason alone he would willingly have put up with the jumpseat. Actually, he found the situation rather amusing as well.

Still, it was probably a good thing the trip was short.

The eastern sky was glowing but the sun not yet up when they landed south of Olympus's cone. The climbing equipment, Perez noted with secret relief, was the kind suited to straightforward trips up easy slopes—apparently the more advanced rock-climbing skills weren't going to be needed here. Whatever else Hafner might be, he was a decent organizer: ten minutes after landing, their route pointed out to them on map and terrain and the equipment distributed, they began to climb.