Omega

The bridge co

It was wide. There were some draft animals on it, and they had no trouble finding room to pass everything without any undue bumping. “Not bad engineering,” said Whit. Digger hadn’t been impressed until Whit pointed out that the bridge’s supports were embedded in ooze, and had to withstand tides generated by two moons. “Must require constant maintenance,” he added. He got down on his knees and peeked underneath.

They got across and planted another projector in a tree at the end of the bridge, aiming it up so the apparition would appear in the branches, visible from all directions.

Whit had become a kid in a toy store, stopping to look at everything and everyone. “They’re beautiful,” he said, referring to the inhabitants. “So i

“You need to watch one of the orgies,” Digger said.

“That’s my point. If they weren’t i

Digger didn’t even ask him to explain that one.

THEY FINISHED UP shortly after sundown. Digger had expected Whit to be exhausted, but he seemed disappointed that the day was ending. “Marvelous,” he said. “Experience of a lifetime.”

The lander met them outside town, on the south side, where the isthmus road began. They stood at the edge of the Goompah world. Beyond lay impossibly rough country, a mountain range that looked impassable, dense forest, and, ultimately, the southern ice cap.

Julie was supposed to get back to the Jenkins, pick up Marge, and start installing the rainmakers. She was ru

“I’ll manage,” she said.

“You’re going to work all night?”

“I expect so.”

“And tomorrow you’re going to be taking us to Savakol.”

“Yes.”

“All day.”

“More or less.”

“And then another round with Marge. When are you going to sleep?”

She had trouble restraining a smile. “I’ve already slept.”

“When?”

They were rising through billowing cumulus. “Today. All day.”

“Today? How’d that happen? I was on the circuit with you every fifteen minutes.”

“No, you weren’t,” she said. “You were on with Bill.”

“Bill?”

“I guess he used my voice.” She smiled. “Don’t worry about me, Dig. I have the easiest job in the operation.”

Avery Whitlock’s Notebooks

. What I find particularly striking, after this first day of walking the streets of a civilization erected by another species, is how few young there are. This is a society that seems to glory in parks, in throwing balls around and splashing through fountains. And yet there seemed as many mothers and fathers as children. Primitive societies at home always produce large families. It does not seem to be the case here. I saw only a few parents with two offspring. If there were any with three, I missed them.

I wonder why that is.

— December 4

chapter 35

On board the Jenkins.

Thursday, December 4.

“ARE WE READY to go?”

In fact, Marge had been ready for hours. She’d sat by the comm board listening to the conversations from below, going over her checklists, and trying unsuccessfully to sleep.

“Yes,” she said. “Armed and ready.”

And at last she and Julie strapped on e-suits and air tanks and went out the cargo airlock.

Marge didn’t show it much, but she was delighted to be there. There’d been, God knew, a lot of time to think on the way out, especially after Collingdale came aboard. And she’d spent much of it reviewing her life. Loads of talent, her father had told her. You’ll be whatever you want to be.

In fact she’d found everything too easy. She’d become an M.D., had gotten bored, and taken a second doctorate in climatology. She’d been more interested in power than research. She hadn’t realized it before making this voyage, but it was the truth. Whenever there had been a choice between administration and pure science she’d gone for administration. Take over. Move up. Get the corner office. She had a natural talent for it. It had paid well, felt good, and yet it had left her eminently dissatisfied.

Probably as a direct result, she’d used a wrecking ball on each of her three marriages. Well, that was overstating it, but she’d attributed her disappointment with her various careers to each of her spouses in turn, and when the extension time came, the relationships had been discontinued. More or less by mutual agreement. Good luck. No hard feelings. Been good to know you.

Her dancing career, which had arced between the end of her college days and the begi

She’d even taken a fling at martial arts. She was good at it, and knew she could have picked up a black belt had she been willing to invest the time.

The problem with her life, she’d decided shortly after Collingdale had come aboard, was that there had never been a serious challenge. No use for a black belt in the great game of life because she could find nobody she wanted to clobber.

And now here came the cloud.

Collingdale thought of it as a kind of personal antagonist. It was his great white whale, the thing that had crushed the crystal cities of Moonlight. When this was over, when he got back, he was going to lead a crusade to find a way to destroy the things. He thought the experience at Lookout, which had generated worldwide sympathy for the Goompahs, would make this the right time.

It was an effort she would probably join. In any case, she was finally in a fight she wasn’t sure she could win. And it was an exhilarating feeling.

The AV3 was waiting. Like the Hawksbill, it wasn’t compatible with the Moorhead, so Julie had parked it a hundred meters away. The chimney packages floated in the night like so many barrels of beer. Marge had been in hostile environments before in the e-suit, but always on a planetary surface. Floating in the void, tethered to Julie, was a bit different, but not as disorienting as she’d been led to expect.

The hauler’s airlock opened as they approached, and Julie took them in. Lights went on, more hatches opened and closed, and they were in the cabin.

Green lamps glowed as the hauler came out of sleep mode. Julie got coffee for them, and Marge settled into the right-hand seat and got out her notebook.

“Anybody ever try this before?” Julie asked.

“Cloud-making?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, sure. The technique’s been used to modify droughts.”

“How come I never heard of it?”

“I don’t know. How much time do you spend at home?”

THEY TOOK TWO landers on the first flight. And a Benson Brothers water pump. “Got a big, dry lawn? Depend on Benson.” They could have saved time by having Bill simply take over the controls on all four landers and pilot them down, but AIs were notoriously deficient if it became necessary to respond to a surprise, like a sudden storm. Especially if they were trying to do too many things at once. It was the price paid for artificial intelligence. Like biological intelligence, its higher functions produced a single consciousness. Or at least, they seemed to. Multiple tasks requiring simultaneous judgment could lead to trouble. They were too far from home to risk losing a vehicle. If one went down, the operation would be over.

Marge had spent much of the voyage to Lookout reviewing weather and topographical maps she’d constructed from information forwarded by the Jenkins and deciding where to place the rainmakers. The target area for the first one was on the eastern side of the upper continent, midway between Roka and Hopgop. (How, she wondered, could you take anyone seriously who named a city Hopgop?)

It was dark, and the omega was just rising when they descended toward the edge of a heavy forest. Beyond, scattered trees and hills ran unbroken to the sea. A small stream, its source somewhere in the high country, wound through the area. There was no sign of nearby habitation.

“Enough water?” Julie asked.

“It’ll do,” said Marge. “Take her down.”

Julie put them as close to the trees as she could, shearing off a few in the process. The forest was loud with insects. “Anything here that bites?” asked Marge.

“Not that we’ve been told about.”

They switched on their night-vision lenses. The trees were of several types, but all were tall, spindly, not much to look at. Marge would have preferred something with a bit more trunk.

“What do you think?” asked Julie.

The wood seemed solid enough. “They’ll have to do,” she said. She headed directly for a section she’d spotted from the air, a cluster of trees forming an irregular circle, roughly forty meters in diameter. There were a few other growths within the perimeter, which they dropped with laser cutters.

“Got a question for you,” said Julie.

“Go ahead.”

“Why do we need the landers? If the hauler has enough lift to bring the rainmaker packages down, why isn’t it enough to support one of them when it’s extended? It won’t weigh any more.”

“When it’s extended,” she said, “the chimney will encounter resistance from air currents. It would take more than the hauler to keep it stable.”

They got back inside the AV3, and Julie touched a press-pad. The cargo door in the rear opened. “Bill,” she said, “put the landers under cover of the trees.”

“Yes, Julie. I’ll take care of it.”

The AI used a dolly to move the landers outside, then activated them and flew them into the shadow of the forest. Meantime, the dolly unloaded the pump.

Marge saw lightning in the west. “Maybe you won’t need the chimneys,” said Julie.

“Unlikely,” she said.

THEY PICKED UP the second pair of landers and delivered them to the same site. They still needed a chimney package and the helicopter. They’d run simulations on what would happen if they tried moving both on the same flight. It was tempting to try it, and save time. But the simulations weren’t encouraging. The chimney was heavy, and the load didn’t balance right. Given almost any kind of aerial disturbance, they would go down in flames.