Engines Of God

Truscott drifted in, and filled a wineglass. "The Ashley Tee is alongside," she told Carson. "They can take your team off when you're ready. But you're welcome to stay with us, if you like. Your survey ship won't have much in the way of medical assistance should you require it."

"Thanks," said Carson. "I'm sorry about all the trouble."

"I'll survive." She managed a smile. "Frank, has John spoken to you?"

"Not in any substantive way. I know he's unhappy."

"He means well. But he's frustrated. He's lost people, and he's worried about his reputation. This isn't a good time for him."

"I know. But considering what others have lost, I have a hard time sympathizing." Truscott, for one, would be in even more trouble. "What will you do now?" he asked.

"Don't know. Write a book, maybe. There's a commission forming to see whether we can adapt terraforming techniques to improving things at home. I'd be interested in joining that."

Carson grimaced. "Can you do much without kicking up tidal waves and earthquakes?"

Her smile illuminated the table. "Yes, we can. We can do quite a lot, as a matter of fact. The problem is that too often the only people who can act don't want change. Power doesn't so much corrupt as it breeds conservatism. Keep the status quo." She shrugged. "Caseway thinks the only solution is to move a small, well-educated, well-trained group to a place like Quraqua, and start over. I'm inclined to agree with him that the home world is a lost cause. But I don't think human nature will change just because we send out a contingent with sheepskins."

"You don't believe the Quraqua experiment will work?"

"No." She sipped her drink. "I'm not a pessimist by nature. At least, I don't think I am. But no: I think the nature of the beast is intrinsically selfish. Quraqua is to be the new Earth. And I suspect it will be. But education makes a difference in the short run, at best. Train a jerk all you want; in the end, you've still got a jerk."

Carson leaned forward. "You think we're that bad?"

"Homo jerkus," she said. "Just read your history." She looked at her watch. "Listen, I have to go. When they write about this, make sure they spell my name right. By the way, I have some messages for you." She fished three envelopes out of a pocket, and handed them to him. Then she turned and walked toward the exit.

The envelopes were standard dispatch holders from the Perth communication center. Two were from Ed Horner. The first said: SORRY TO HEAR ABOUT COLLISION. HOPE ALL IS WELL. FIRST PRIORITY IS CREW SAFETY. TAKE ANY ACTION TO PROTECT YOUR PEOPLE.

The second was dated two days later. It authorized Carson to use the Ashley Tee as he saw fit. "Within reason."

Hutch came up behind him. He showed her the messages. "What do you think?" he asked.

"About what we do now?"

"Yes."

"Restrict ourselves to aerial survey. And then go home."

Carson agreed. He had no heart left for the world of the Monument-Makers. "Tell me what you know about the Ashley Tee"

She sat down. "It will have a two-man crew. Their specialty is broad-based survey. They look for terrestrial worlds, and they do some general research on the side. They are not designed for ground work."

"Will they have a shuttle?"

"Yes," she said. "But why would you want a shuttle if we're going to stay off the surface?"

"Hutch, there are whole cities down there. We'll want to do some flybys. Find out what we can."

"Okay. The Ashley Tee is a Ranger-class EP. It's small, and its shuttle is small. The shuttle is not designed for atmospheric flight, by the way. It's a flying box."

"Not good for atmospheric flight, you say? Can it be done? Can you do it?"

"I can do it. It'll be clumsy. And slow. But sure I can do it."

Hutch had never looked better. Candlelight glittered in her dark eyes and off her black onyx earrings. He sensed a depth, a dimension, that had not been there before. He recalled his first meeting with her, among the monoliths at Oz, when she had seemed a trifle frivolous.

Janet joined them. She'd had a little too much to drink, and she looked disheartened. The shimmering rim of the world rolled across the observation port. They were over the night side, but the ocean and the cloud cover glittered.

Hutch was trying to get a look at the third envelope. "What's the other one say?"

"It's from Nok." He tore it open.

FRANK. HAVE COMMANDEERED PACKET. ON MY WAY. HANG ON. DAVID EMORY.

"Well," smiled Janet, "we're getting plenty of help. It would've all been a trifle late. But you have to give them credit for trying."

Carson laughed. "David's figured out that we've got something here. He's interested."

Hutch reassured everyone she was fine, and stayed in the forward lounge long after Carson and Janet had gone. She could not bear the thought of being alone that night.

Alcohol had no effect. Occasionally someone drifted over, sat down, tried to start a conversation. But she could not follow any of it. She almost believed she could will George to come through the door. That he was still at the other end of the commlink.

She forced herself to think about other things. About Carson's idea that the space station was relatively recent. That there had been a dark age.

She cleared the table and took out her lightpad.

Eight-thousand-year cycles.

She drew a line across the top of the field. Void here. Beta Pac III there. On the edge of the arm. Land's end. And Quraqua? Well back. Fifty-five light-years. Toward Earth. She sketched in Nok, ninety-eight light-years from Quraqua, a hundred fifteen from Beta Pac.

She wrote in the dates of the known events: 21,000 and 5000 B.C. at Beta Pac; 9000 and 1000 B.C. at Quraqua; 16,000 B.C. and A.D. 400 at Nok. Round the 400 date off to zero. Fill out the eight-thousand-year cycle. Assume events on Beta Pac at 13,000 B.C., on Nok at 8000 B.C., and on Quraqua, when? 17,000 B.C.

She looked at the result a long time. Looked out the window at the world of the Monument-Makers. Strings of islands. A jade ocean. The continent around the other side.

They had known something. They had built Oz, and cube moons, and a greater Oz here.

Why?

When she looked back at the lightpad, she saw it. And it was so obvious, she wondered how they could have missed it for so long.

She went back to her quarters, generated a map, and checked the numbers. Everything fit.

TO: COMMISSIONER, WORLD ACADEMY OF SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY SMTTHSONIAN SQUARE, WASHINGTON, D.C.

FROM: DIRECTOR, BETA PAC TEAM

SUBJECT: MISSION STATUS

WE'VE LOST MAGGIE AND GEORGE DURING ATTACK BY LOCAL LIFE FORMS. PLEASE MAKE APPROPRIATE NOTIFICATIONS. BOTH DIED ATTEMPTING TO PROTECT THEIR COLLEAGUES. MAJOR DISCOVERIES AWAIT ARRIVAL OF FULL-SCALE EXPEDITION. REPORT FOLLOWS. WE WILL REMAIN, AS RESOURCES PERMIT, WITH THE ASHLEY TEE.

CARSON