按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
to hold up even when you're only along for the ride。〃
〃Um。 Aside from little things like snakele venom in the nucleic acid analyzer…〃
〃Fixed；〃 she said。 〃We got it working again about ten minutes ago。 Which was why I'd been released from my desk and could e out to drag you kicking and screaming back inside。〃 He shook his head in mock exasperation。 〃I swear； Chrys； you do a poorer imitation of a loafing passenger than / do。〃
〃And you're delighted。 Go on； admit it。〃
〃Why？ You're going to send me to my room anyway； aren't you？〃 he said； putting a well…remembered five…year…old's whine into his voice。 〃You always want me to play outside on nice days。〃
She poked him in the ribs。 〃Stop that…I had my fill of tantrums years ago。〃
He captured her attacking hand and wrapped the arm around his waist； and for a moment they walked like that in silence。 〃It would be an ideal planet for colonization； wouldn't it；〃 she said quietly。 〃And that's going to make it all the harder to say no。〃
〃No to the Trofts？〃
She nodded。 〃The Council's going to want this world； and probably the others as well。 And to get them they'll take on the Qasamans 。。。 whether that's the smart thing to do or not。〃
Jonny grimaced。 The same thought had been lurking in the back of his own mind for at least two planets now。 〃We'll just have to hope the Dewdrop's report is solid enough that it relegates ours to footnote status as far as that decision is concerned。〃
〃With Lizabet Telek in charge of writing it？〃 Chrys snorted。 〃She wants these worlds so badly she can taste it。 She'll make sure the Qasamans sound like crippled porongs as far as fighting ability is concerned。〃
〃I don't know if she's that underhanded；〃 Jonny demurred cautiously。 〃And with Almo； Justin； and Joshua aboard she'd have a hard time slanting things too far。〃
Still； he thought as they passed the Cobra guard at the Menssana's airlock and stepped through to the cool shock of the ship's climate control； it might not hurt to tone down our report a shade or two。 Emphasize Chata's flatfoot herds； perhaps； and Fuson's spit…
ting snakeles。 Every world's got its drawbacks…all we have to do is find them and make them visible。
And hope the Council doesn't take them too seriously。 Already the ship's cooler air was affecting his arthritic joints； reminding him with each twinge that he'd been a bit lax with his medication schedule。 He would hate to see a world like Kubha slip through mankind's fingers for no real reason。
Whether it was worth a war 。。。 well； that decision didn't yet need to be made。
Chapter 12
The plete tour of Sollas and its environs took six days； and for Cerenkov the most amazing part was how the Qasamans could keep them so busy while showing them so little。
So little of real importance； anyway。 They spent a great many hours touring art galleries； cultural museums； and parks； while evenings were usually filled with dance and musical performances at their guest house and long discussions with Mayor Kimmeron or other high…ranking officials。 At no time； despite Cerenkov's carefully phrased requests； was the contact team taken to anything resembling a munications or puting center； nor were they shown any of the city's industrial or manufacturing capability。
And yet such capability obviously existed。 The glimpses they got of intercity roads and the relatively sparse traffic on them showed Sollas's goods weren't simply being shipped in from somewhere else。
〃It's got to be underground；〃 Rynstadt mented that evening as the four men relaxed in the lounge that connected their two sleeping rooms。 〃All of it： refining； manufacturing； waste processing…maybe there's even a tunnel network for product distribution。〃
〃Except for smaller operations like the boron plant
we saw the first day？〃 Cerenkov shrugged。 〃Possibly。 Probably； even。 Sure seems to be the hard way to do
it； though。〃
〃Depends on what they were after；〃 Joshua put in。 〃Aesthetically； this is a clean； beautiful city； a good place to spend your leisure time even if you have to work underground all day。〃
〃Or else；〃 York said quietly； 〃they were simply worried about having everything out in the open。〃
Cerenkov felt his jaw tense up； forced it to relax。 The unspoken assumption was that the Qasamans were eavesdropping on these conversations； and to go anywhere near military concepts made him nervous。 But on the other hand； ignoring such a normal aspect of human societies was likely to look even more suspicious。 As long as York didn't let his professional interests run away with him… 〃What do you mean？ They built underground to protect their manufacturing base from attack？〃
〃Or from detection；〃 York replied。 〃Remember our assumed starting point： emigres…or exiles…from perceived repression； having gone way farther than they intended and now stuck on Qasama with a useless
stardrive。〃
〃Do you suppose they ran into some Troft ships on the way here？〃 Joshua suggested。 〃The Dominion probably hadn't met either them or the Minthisti when the Qasamans left。 If I'd just seen a Troft for the first time； I think I'd probably have kept going until my tanks ran dry。〃
Nodding； York said； 〃I suspect that's exactly what they did。 The distance seems right for a colony ship's full dry…tank range。〃 He looked back at Cerenkov。 〃I'd guess they had their whole city underground to begin with； moving up only as they started to outgrow the space and no one showed up to stomp
them。〃
〃And they came up smack in the middle of the bololin migration pattern；〃 Cerenkov sighed； shaking
his head。 〃Definitely poor planning on someone's part。〃
〃That doesn't explain where the villages came from Rynstadt mused。 〃Though maybe we can get some of their history tomorrow。 Assuming the trip is still on。〃
Cerenkov shrugged。 〃As far as I know Moff and pany are driving us out there first thing tomorrow morning。〃 He broke off as a familiar hooting sounded faintly in the distance。
York grimaced。 〃More bololins。 I think I'd have stayed underground until I found a way to keep the damn things out。〃
At least； Cerenkov thought； the streets ought to be pretty empty by now。 I wonder how many people those things kill every year？ 〃I assume they had their reason。 Maybe Moff will loosen up some day and talk about it。〃
First time in a week I'm close enough to make a grab； Pyre groused silently to himself； and the damn herd decides to be nocturnal。
From Pyre's end； of course； it wasn't all that bad。 Locking in the light amplification capability of his optical enhancers gave him as good a view as he would have had on an overcast afternoon； and with magnification also on he'd be able to target any likely tarbines as soon as they emerged from the obscuring buildings。 And once he had targeting lock established he could follow his chosen bird into the woods； where he could shoot it without anyone seeing the flash。
The problem was that with most good Qasamans tucked away in their beds there weren't likely to be many bololins running into bullets out there； and correspondingly few impregnated tarbines for him to hunt。 Muttering under his breath； he mentally crossed his fingers and waited for the herd to appear。
It did； and his pleadings were answered from an entirely unexpected direction。 Across the landing
area…about half a kilometer away and somewhat northeast of his current position…a door suddenly opened in a tall building the Dewdrop's crew had tentatively labeled the control tower； spilling light and people out onto the pavement。 Flickers of fire erupted from outstretched hands； and even as their mojos took to the air the sound of gunfire reached Pyre's ears。 Shifting his attention back to the herd； he waited。 Within seconds the tarbines began to
appear。
The multitarget capability hadn't been a part of Cobra optical enhancers since Jonny Moreau's war； but Pyre's team had trained with them prior to the Qasama mission and he'd developed a healthy respect for both their advantages and their dangers。 Once he target…locked one or more tarbines； his nanoputer and servos would make sure his next laser shots would be in that direction…whether or not he suddenly found a predator he needed to deal with first。 He'd run into at least twenty such creatures since leaving the Dewdrop…dog… or monkey…sized； most of them； but none he'd care to give a free shot at his back regardless。 But it was a chance he'd have to take。 Keeping an ear cocked for suspicious sounds； he activated his multitarget lock and waited。 The wait wasn't long。 As before； the mojos attacked swiftly； swooping in through the tarbines〃 attempts at evasion。 With the larger birds〃 head start； though； most made it into the cover of the nearest trees before their mojos could disengage。 Pyre targeted two of the tarbines just before they entered the forest and； on slightly reckless impulse； locked onto one of the riding mojos as well。 The birds swept through the branches； disengaged 。。。 and； raising his hands； Pyre squeezed off three fingertip laser shots。
The birds dropped with a crunch of dead leaves into the undergrowth。 Pyre sprinted over； scooped them up； and hastily got out of the way as the main herd caught up。 Keeping well to the side； he paced them another hundred meters into the woods。 Then； spinning on his right foot； he swung his left leg up and fired his antiarmor laser。
The trees flashed with reflected light as the targeted bololin crumpled to the ground。 Its tarbine took off for the sky； it got maybe ten meters before Pyre's fingertip laser brought it down。
And as the rest of the herd continued on their way； silence returned。 Retrieving his last tarbine。 Pyre took his prizes to the bush where he'd cached his freeze boxes and stuffed them inside。 Then； crouching with his back to a large tree within sight of the dead bololin； he settled down to wait。
It was an hour before the sounds of the Qasaman collection team faded from the area between forest and city。 During that time Pyre had also heard someone else poking around the edges of the wood； whistling occasionally as he apparently searched for the mojo Pyre had killed。 But he and the others clearly knew better than to go too deep into the forest at night； and no one came anywhere near Pyre's position。
Finally they were gone； and Pyre could address the task of moving the bololin carcass closer to the Dew…drop。 With his servos the creature's weight wasn't a significant problem； but it took him four tries to find a grip that was reasonably balanced。 Finding a wide enough path through the trees and bushes was another problem； and more than once he found himself wondering how in hell the beasts managed it on their own。
Eventually； though； he made it。 Dumping the carcass beside his camouflaged laser m； he activated the latter and slipped on the headphone。 〃Pyre to Dewdrop；〃 he muttered。 〃Anyone home？〃
〃Lieutenant Collins；〃 a voice came back promptly。 〃I believe Governor Telek and her people are still in uthe lounge； sir； let me switch you。〃
〃Fine；〃 Pyre said。 A moment later Telek came on the circuit。
〃Everything all right； Almo？〃 she said。
〃Far as I can tell。 Listen； I've got a bololin carcass for you and two freeze boxes〃 worth of tarbines and mojos。 You want to warm up your equipment or wait until I can deliver them in person？〃
〃You got a tarbine？ Wonderful！ Impregnated or
not？〃
〃Both types…which is why I've got a spare bololin。〃
〃Uh…huh。 I understand。 Well 。。。 I suppose I ought to do the bololin first； before any scavengers get to it。 Can you hook up the field analyzer to the laser m for me？〃
〃Sure。〃
It took only a few minutes to set up the field analyzer and plug its control line into the laser m's telemetry port； and by the time he'd finished Telek had the necessary control/display console hooked up at her end。 〃Okay；〃 she said。 〃Now stand clear。〃
The analyzer remote； looking for all the world like a large double starfish with gripper treads； crawled up the bololin's flank to where the heart would be on most earthstock animals。 A scalpel extended from one arm to slice a neat incision in the dark hide。 Pyre paused long enough to make sure the analyzer's camera units were firmly mounted to nearby trees and then headed out to walk a sentry circle a