Engines Of God

"— Priscilla Hutchins. Ship's captain."

"Good to meet you, Priscilla." The older woman's tone was casual. "Do you have any objection if I record the conversation?"

That meant this was going to be CYA. Get on the record in case there are court proceedings later. "No," she said. "That's fine."

"Thank you. We've been expecting you. Do you need assistance getting your people off?"

"Thanks. There are only a handful, and we have two shuttles."

"Very good. You should be aware that the initial phase of Project Hope involves nuking the icecaps." She looked pointedly at Hutch. "The Academy team still seems to have most of their equipment at the site."

"That could be. I haven't been down there yet."

"Yes." Her voice took on a confidential tone. As if there were foolishness abroad that required immediate attention by the two of them. "I've spoken with Dr. Jacobi. He is aware that destruction at the Temple site will be total." She paused. "The Yakata is open water all the way to the cap. That entire coastline will be rearranged. You understand what I'm saying?"

"I understand." Hutch did not need to inject concern into her voice. But she let the woman see she was doubtful. "What you need to be aware of is that they are close to a major discovery down there. There's a possibility I may not be able to get them all off in time."

Truscott's eyes momentarily lost their focus. "Priscilla, they are always close to a major discovery. Always. You know how long they've been there?"

"Almost thirty years," said Hutch.

"They've had plenty of time."

"Not really." Hutch tried to keep it light. Avoid being confrontational. "Not when you're trying to excavate an entire world. The Quraquat have three hundred centuries of history behind them. That's a lot of digging."

"Whatever." Truscott dismissed the discussion with a wave. "It doesn't matter. What is important is that I have no authority to postpone the start of the project. The Academy has agreed to evacuate; we've given them appropriate advance notification of operations. I am offering assistance, if you wish. And I will expect you to have your people safely away."

"Dr. Truscott, they may have a key to the Monument-Makers."

The director looked a

Ship's Log Joho

Monday, June 7

Melanie Truscott is overbearing, and takes herself quite seriously. She shows no flexibility about the timing of the evacuation. Nevertheless, I am hopeful that she will build an emergency delay into the operation—if she has not already done so. I have described our conversation to Dr. Wold, warning him that it is my opinion that the Friday deadline should be treated with the utmost respect.

PH

Kosmik Station. Monday, June 7; 1050 hours. Melanie Truscott would have liked to walk on real ground under a real sky. Leave the cramped spaces and gleaming walls and synth meals behind and stride off the station into the night. For God's sake, she was sympathetic, but where did the Academy get these people who thought the entire world should stand aside while they dug up pots and idols?

She stared at the blank screen. When Harvey broke in to inform her that he was talking to the pilot of the Academy ship, she had been paging through the most recent queries and demands for access to the New Earth: Islamic militants, white supremacists, Chinese nationalists, black separatists, One-Worlders, New Hellenes, a vast assortment of ethnic groups, tribes, oppressed peoples. Corporate interests. People with ideas for social experiments. Norman Caseway, who had forwarded the material, had his own plans. She was less opti-mistic than he. Actual settlement was far in the future. She would be long gone before it happened, as would Norman, and most of the others who had crusaded for the Project. Who knew how it would turn out?

She wondered whether the world's problems might be solved by access to the stars. Or simply exported.

"What do you think, Melanie?"

Harvey Sill stood in the doorway. He was the station chief, the beefy man with whom Hutch had spoken. Truscott had worked with Harvey on and off for years. She liked him; he was an able administrator, and he was a good judge of people. And he was that most valuable of all subordinates: a competent man who was not afraid to express his opinion.

Melanie rocked back in her chair. "I'm not comfortable."

Harvey sat on the table. "They're going to be a problem right to the end."

"There's something you should see, Harv." She called up a two-week-old transmission.

Norman Case way's congenial features appeared. He was seated at his desk in front of the organizational ba

"He can't do that," said Harvey.

"If so," continued the recording, "we'll have to be prepared to respond.

"This is not an easy call. If such an a

"Could be worse," said Harvey, sliding into a chair. "He might have told you to pull the switch no matter what."

"I'm not sure I wouldn't have preferred that." She had been here three years, and the archeologists had used one delaying tactic after another. "It's the right decision," she admitted. "But the sons of bitches are going to put it to us again." She got up, walked toward the viewport. "I just can't believe this keeps happening to us."

Melanie Truscott, Diary

The whole history of «negotiations» between the Academy and Kosmik has been a chain of demands, lies, threats, and finally the lawsuit that forced the Academy off Quraqua before they were ready to go.

Nevertheless, if I could, I would grant their request and give them another month or two—it really wouldn't create insurmountable problems for us—but the legal decisions have come in, and I would be, in effect, setting the court's decision aside and opening the door for more litigation.

So I will follow my orders to the letter.

How does it happen that the most intractable types always rise to the top? No give at all.

The young woman I spoke with today, on the Academy evacuation vessel, seemed reasonable enough. She and I could easily have worked out an agreement—I believe—avoided a lot of rancor, and saved a lot of money. And maybe even found the way to the Monument-Makers. But it won't happen.

June 7, 2202