“Josten Ram?”
“Here,” the man who’d commented on her looks answered. “What is this all about?”
“You’ll be told soon, sir,” the sergeant answered. “Linda Donohue?”
“Here,” Linda snarled. “There is going to be hell to pay about this.”
“As you say, ma’am. Geo Keating?”
“Here,” the day laborer said.
“You’re Geo Keating?” Linda gasped. “You wrote Sixth Order Mechanics.”
“That was a long time ago, young lady,” the man said, his face breaking into a smile. “Thank you for remembering.”
“What the hell are you doing looking like…” She paused and gestured embarrassedly.
“Ah, well,” the man said, shrugging his shoulders with a slight smile. “Not much work for quantum engineers these days, is there? Take life a day at a time.”
“Could the four of you come with me, please?” the sergeant said, walking out of the shed and towards the inner camp.
“I love how polite they are,” Linda said, sarcastically, shrugging her satchel up and following. “As if we have a choice.”
“Well, it’s better than what I’d be doing today,” Keating said. “Could I help you with your bag, miss?”
“I can carry it,” Linda said, noticing for the first time that he didn’t have a bag of his own. “Where’s your stuff?”
“This is my stuff, miss,” the man said, looking around the camp. “Lovely use of space, very efficient.”
“I’d think that some of your background would have transferred to the new tech,” Linda said, puzzled. “Couldn’t you get work as, I dunno, an engineer.”
“The requirements for modern engineering are a bit far from my area of expertise, miss,” Keating said, frowning. “I actually tried at one point but… I’m really not a good day-to-day engineer. I tend to… wander mentally. And there’s not much room for impracticality these days. Digging gives me plenty of chance to think. It’s not all that bad of a life. I never was much into material possessions; I donated almost all of my credits to the Wolf project before the Fall. So I live life one day at a time, find some work that keeps me in food and… think. It’s not the worst life possible. And I’ve done good work these days, helping to build Raven’s Mill. In a way, creating a well-built wall is as satisfying as publishing a well-thought thesis. Perhaps more so; I don’t have to defend my wall. It is there for everyone to see and admire. It keeps the wind out and with a roof it keeps the rain off. When I build a foundation, you know that the wall will stand. And when I build a wall, you know that the roof will stand.”
“And when you build a roof?” Linda asked, smiling. “And please call me Linda, Mr. Keating.”
“Ah, I don’t do roofing, miss,” the man said, shrugging. “Afraid of heights. Don’t even do high walls if I can avoid it.”
They had reached the gates to the inner camp and were passed through. The camp on the far side was centered around a lake and more substantial, with two-story wooden buildings filling most of the space. She also noticed that the few people in view were all wearing badges on lanyards. A secure area, then, something like the inner areas of the War Department.
They were led to one of the closest buildings and to another waiting room, this one fitted with comfortable chairs and a wall clock; it appeared to be some sort of a rec room. There were a few books and magazines scattered around. Although from the looks of the books and magazines it was a rec room for mostly males, probably the Blood Lord guards.
There was a pleasant-faced older woman waiting in the room and she nodded as they entered.
“Welcome to Icarus Camp, I’m June Lasker,” the woman said. “In a moment I’ll be interviewing each of you and explaining what’s going on. I know you’re all upset and I’ll ask you to try not to take it out on me. I’m just as stuck in this as you are,” she added with a smile. “So, what did the net bring in this time? Names, in other words.”
“Josten Ram,” Josten said. “So, what is this all about?”
“I’ll be informing each of you individually,” June said, referring to her clipboard. “Ah, one of the pilots. Mr. Ram, if you’ll accompany me?”
“Icarus,” Keating said, settling in one of the chairs. “How fascinating.”
“Icarus?” Linda said, sitting down next to him as the Blood Lords filed out of the room.
“A Greek myth,” Keating replied, musingly. “The inventor Daedalus and his son Icarus built the Labyrinth for King Minos of Crete. Thereafter, Minos imprisoned them in a tower so that Daedalus couldn’t tell the secrets of the Labyrinth to anyone else. But Daedalus constructed wings of wood and wax and the feathers of the seabirds that flew around the tower. Then he and Icarus flew out of the tower. Daedalus had warned Icarus not to fly too high, lest he get too close to the Chariot of Apollo, the sun. But Icarus, drunk with the glory of flight, flew too high and the wax melted from his wings, casting him into the sea and to his death.”
“And that means… what?” Linda asked.
“Oh, many hypotheses exist,” Keating said with a twinkle in his eye. “They could be planning on seeing if we can survive a high drop into the sea. A low-order hypothesis, I’ll admit,” he added with a chuckle.
“Or they could use an inventor to build a labyrinth,” Linda said, getting into the game. “All you’d have to do is rewrite your particle theory equations then run walls from one set to another. That would be labyrinthine enough!”
“Do you really think they were too complex?” Keating asked, worriedly. “I found them elegantly simple, myself.”
“Some of us, sir, are mortals.” Linda sighed. “I think I stayed with it up to the second theta transform and then I went out to a party and tried very very hard to forget. I’d thought I was pretty good at transform equations until I tried to keep up with you.”
“Well, such things take time to fully explore,” Keating replied unhappily. “But we can take a look at it here,” he added, pulling out a scrap of charcoal and picking up one of the books. Turning to the back page he found a clean area and started inscribing equations. “The second theta is a quaternary transform—”
“Linda Donohue?” June said, from the door.
“Later, Professor,” Linda said, tapping him on the arm. “I’d be fascinated to try to figure it out.”
“Do you know who is sitting in there?” Linda snapped as the door closed.
“Manuel Sukiama and Geo Keating?” June said, leading Linda down the corridor.
“And do you know who Geo Keating is?” Linda said, angrily.
“It says he’s a particle field theorist,” June answered, pausing to consult her clipboard.
“He’s not just a particle field theorist,” Linda snarled. “He’s one of the finest minds in history. And he’s been working as a day laborer in Raven’s Mill! The man is a legend in his field and he’s sitting in there sketching equations that not two people on Earth can understand! If we still had things like Nobel Prizes he’d take the Nobel in physics every year!”
“I’m…” June said then paused. “I’m sorry, I’ve never heard of him. But I’ll be very polite when I interview him. And I’ll try to explain his importance to Commander Herrick.”
“Herzer Herrick is here?” Linda said, her eyes widening in horror.
“Yes, he’s… well, we need to have our in-briefing,” June said, tilting her head. “Is… do you and Commander Herrick have a… background? I know that he has had… a number of lady friends.”