“You mean by shooting at them.”
“That, too. I suppose the real loss is the lack of imagination. If I were an extraterrestrial, I think I’d find us pretty dumb.”
“What kind of person was he, Jerry?”
“He was exactly the man you’d want to have at your back if you got in trouble. You could count on him to do what he said. And he didn’t discourage easily.”
“Obviously not.”
“Do you know where the name of his ship came from?”
“The Callisto? It’s one of the moons of Jupiter, isn’t it?”
“One of the Galilean moons, Chase. One of the four moons that Galileo discovered. When that happened, it shook the medieval worldview. Society was never the same.”
We set Jacob to do an online hunt for the two men who’d collected the tablet. We couldn’t do that with the woman because she’d kept her back to the imagers.
The big one turned out to be Brian Lewis, a police officer. The other one was Doug Bannister, who was a medical technician. The bios indicated they both played airball on an amateur team, the Conneltown Dragons. Conneltown was located about fifty kilometers outside Andiquar, on the Melony. We were in the middle of the season, and the Dragons’ next game was the following evening. “Let’s not make an issue of this,” said Alex. “No point going to their homes if we don’t have to. You an airball fan, by any chance?”
“I guess I am now.”
The Dragons were at home, playing the Tylerville Hawks. I told Alex I could barely wait, and he said he’d treat for a steak dinner after the game and would that be okay? I told him yes, provided he didn’t sit there during the game explaining the rules to me.
Several hundred people showed up on a chilly evening. The game would be played on an open field, under lights. The patrons watched from rickety stands. We spotted our two guys right away. The crowd applauded enthusiastically as the hometown players were introduced. The captains met at the center of the field, a coin was tossed, and the teams lined up on opposing sides. Lewis was a starter; Bannister was on the bench.
For those who don’t pay attention to trivia, it’s enough to say that the game is played with six on a team. The object is to move the ball into the other team’s territory and, using a paddle, whack it into a moving net. The net squeals when a goal is scored, invariably setting off a loud crowd reaction. The game gets its name, and its charm, from the fact that the teams move through shifting gravity fields.
At no time are players permitted to hold the ball. The gravity gradients in the various fields change constantly, but not abruptly, giving the players time to adjust. But the shifts are unpredictable. It’s one minute up and the next minute down. Maximum gravity permissible is 1.6, which would put me at about 185 pounds. Minimum gravity is zero. I’d always thought of airball as an idiot’s game, and I still do, but that evening I enjoyed myself. And I was impressed with the flexibility and skill of the players.
The action begins when the referee, with the gravity set at .1, flips the ball high in the air, and the players go up after it.
The Conneltown team wore gold uniforms, which were embroidered with the team name in blazing script and a shoulder patch depicting a fire-spouting dragon.
The crowd roared when, during the opening minute, Brian Lewis took advantage of .2 gravity to leap high over a defender and, as they say in the sport, nail the target as it was passing.
A sizable contingent from Tylerville was apparently present. So both teams had substantial crowd support. It was a close game, and, to the dismay of the locals, the Hawks scored the deciding goal as time ran out.
Everybody looked exhausted when it ended. We waited in the parking area and spotted Bannister as he came out of the crowd. “Doug,” said Alex, “do you have a minute?”
He stood trying to figure out if he knew Alex. Then he looked at me and smiled. “Sure,” he said. “What can I do for you?” He had a thin voice, and you had to listen closely to hear what he was saying.
Alex did the introductions. Then: “Doug, you and Mr. Lewis picked up a rock tablet two days ago in Rindenwood.”
“Yes. That’s right. Is there a problem?” He seemed a bit nervous. But maybe he was always nervous in the presence of strangers. Or maybe of strange women. He had cinnamon-colored hair, which was already growing thin, and his eyes never quite got clear of the ground.
“No. No problem. We’re interested in buying the tablet. Do you still have it?”
“No.”
“Can you tell me who does?”
A woman who had the right dimensions and hair to be the one who’d helped make the pickup appeared from somewhere. I hadn’t seen her in the stands. “This is my wife, Ara,” Doug said.
“I couldn’t help overhearing,” Ara said. She was still in her flighty years. But she looked good. Inquisitive dark eyes, black hair cut short, and the body of a dancer. I realized right away she was in charge of the marriage. She simply took over from Doug. “Mr. Benedict,” she said, “we were bringing it back for our aunt. But while we were en route, she decided she didn’t want it.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, when we showed it to her, from the skimmer, she said that wasn’t the same one that she’d seen in the ad.”
“It wasn’t the same one?”
“She meant it was more worn than she’d expected.”
“Oh.”
She shrugged. “So she said she didn’t want it.”
“What did you do with it?”
“We dropped it in the river.”
“In the river?” Alex couldn’t conceal his horror.
“Yes. She thought it was an artifact, but after she saw it, she said it was worthless.”
“Oh.”
“And she’d know. She collects stuff like that.”
We had caught Brian Lewis’s attention. He came over, and we did the introductions again. “Sorry,” he said in a deep, rumbling voice when he heard what we were after. “Yeah. That’s what happened to it. It’s in the river.”
“Can you tell us where in the river?” asked Alex.
“Near the Trafalgar Bridge,” said Ara.
“Right.” Doug made a face, trying to recall details. “We were about a kilometer from the bridge when we ditched it.”
“Which side?”
“The east side,” said Ara. “I thought it was more than a kilometer, though. More like three or four.”
Brian thought about it. “Yeah,” he said. “That might be right.”
Alex gave them business cards. “Call me if you remember anything else, okay?”
They assured him they would. Brian walked away while Ara and Doug climbed into a white-and-gold Sentinel. It was the same one they’d used to collect the tablet.
Alex called Audree Hitchcock, a longtime friend who did oceanic surveys for the Geologic Service. “We’re looking for a rock,” he said.
“Beg pardon, Alex?” At the beginning of her career, Audree had worked for Gabe, Alex’s uncle. She and Alex saw each other socially on occasion, but it seemed to be more friendship than romance. Audree was a bright, energetic blonde with intense blue eyes and a passion for the theater. She belonged to the Seaside Players, a local amateur group.