She stepped to her left just as Whit tried to get past her for the third time.
Now he stood there, saying, “Do you need something from me?”
Since he had initiated conversation, she felt empowered: “I have information to share.”
Whit flinched, a reaction Carbon-143 recognized as surprise. “What? And why me?”
“About the nature of the Ring and its possible side effects on the environment when triggered.”
Whit’s eyebrows rose, a reaction recognizable as curiosity combined with interest. “What are they?”
As precisely as she could, Carbon-143 referenced the radiation levels that would result from both a test pulse—the so-called First Light—and the operational firing known as Fire Light. “Won’t that be bad for all that stuff out there?” he said, jerking his thumb in what he obviously thought was the direction of the tank field. He was mistaken, by at least sixty degrees, but Carbon-143 elected not to offer a correction.
“Extremely.”
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“Not unless the goal is to leave nothing of use behind following the transfer.”
Whit opened his mouth to speak, then, strangely, closed it without uttering a word. And Carbon-143 received the formation-wide signal to return to her station.
As she turned toward it, Whit scurried around in front of her. “You can’t drop a bomb like that and just walk off.”
“I’ve been ordered back to my station.” She could see Eleven and Ten already plugging in. In seconds, her absence would be noted and cause for review.
She kept moving; Whit moved with her. “I’ve got it. I need to get back, too.” He lowered his voice. “We need to talk more. When does your shift end?”
“My shift never ends.”
“Oh,” he said, “right.” He followed Carbon-143 right up to her station. “Can you, uh, send me the material?” He obviously realized, belatedly, that their conversation might be unapproved or troublesome. He actually smiled at Eleven and Ten as he said, with a noticeable increase in volume, “I think we can help the Project.”
“I will locate you,” Carbon-143 said, suddenly and strangely unsure of her actions.
ANALYSIS: She had returned to her station and resumed her work with no detectable loss of performance. (She had received no queries about delays from higher on the information tree.)
Yet she spent the next twenty minutes in a state of agitation pondering two questions: Had she betrayed the Project by obtaining and now revealing certain information?
Had she betrayed Dehm by speaking with Whit?
She was uncomfortable with the realization that she had insufficient data to answer either question.
INDIAN SPACE HERO WOUNDED IN ROBBERY
Retired general Taj Radhakrishnan, 66, was severely wounded in an apparent attempted robbery in North Bangalore yesterday. He has been taken to Sagar Hospital, where his status is critical.
Reporting is still incomplete, but the incident occurred in the business district of Hebbal near 5th Main Road around 9 A.M. A shopkeeper found the astronaut shot and lying in an alley. His wallet had been taken.
An Air Force pilot by training, Radhakrishnan became the second citizen of India to fly in space in 2014, and again in 2019, when he commanded the ill-fated Brahma mission to Near-Earth Object Keanu.
More recently he has been involved in the return of inhabitants of Keanu, one of them his son, Pav.
Dr. Melani Remilla of the Indian Space Research Organization disputed the suggestion that the attack on General Radhakrishnan was related to this activity.
BANGALOREMIRROR.COM (CITY SECTION),
THURSDAY, APRIL 19, 2040
DALE
The trip by railcar from the vesicle factory to the human habitat took half an hour and was so noisy and rattling that conversation was impossible. Crammed into a single car with Makali, Dale found that the only thing the two of them could do was stare at each other awkwardly.
In any case, Dale had little to offer. Word that the Beehive had come to life had driven Zhao, Makali, and the others toward the railcars. Having just made the hike from the human habitat, Dale had been happy to be taken along for the ride, his first since the weird trek of 2019. He heard no invitation, but he heard no warning to get lost or stay out of this.
So far he was serene about his decision to reengage with his fellow humans, though he was disappointed that his communion with Keanu had not proved to be more useful—that is, that he was still having to prove himself.
That might change. In a major improvement over the previous seventy of his seventy-one years, Dale’s timing seemed to be good. Of course, his decision to visit the habitat had been spurred by the worrisome messages from the Keanu system about troubles for Rachel and crew on Earth. Nevertheless, he had followed up, and thus learned of the existence of the vesicle and the plans for its use . . . and now the Beehive had come back to life.
He was certain these were all related somehow, though cause and effect were still elusive. But if anyone could discover that linkage, it was Keanu-linked Dale Scott. He just needed more input, as they used to say at NASA.
The trip was not only an improvement over a second long walk through the tunnels, it showed Dale that the rail line was old, battered, and from the discolorations and wear had seen heavy use. Which suggested that the HBs were desperate for Substance K.
Desperate people did risky things . . . like put five humans, including a teenaged girl, and an alien aboard a thousand-year-old vehicle and fire them toward a planet that did not want them.
Such as come up with a cockamamie backup plan involving some kind of secret bioweapon they hoped to sneak into Earth’s atmosphere. Unless the Reivers had somehow managed to not only dominate Earth, but to make humanity forget whatever it had learned in the past hundred and fifty years, radar and missile defenses would still be in existence. It seemed to Dale that this vesicle gambit had little chance of success.
And what then? His concern for the outcome was not just academic—his fate was tied to Keanu. How would the Reivers respond to an invasion and/or an attack? Would they be content to let Keanu remain in orbit . . . indefinitely, untouched?
Or would they fire their own weapons? Worse yet, would they invade? They might feel that they had a right to retake the NEO, since it had been their home for a few millennia.
Dale had a sudden, unwanted image of Reiver microbes spreading up the walls of this very tunnel . . . and anteater model aliens marching toward him.
He couldn’t allow that. If—be polite and don’t think “when”—Harley Drake and Jaidev and Zhao’s big plans went to shit, Dale should be ready with his option.
Move Keanu.
And who better to pilot the NEO to a new destination, a new destiny, than former astronaut and test pilot, Keanu-linked Dale Scott?
The cars arrived at the loading complex outside the human habitat with a screeching bump. Everyone but Dale exited automatically and wordlessly, even though it appeared there was a turn in the rail that would allow the cargo car to move directly into the habitat.
But Dale chose to follow Makali and Zhao, who walked swiftly, their team members forming up behind them, not only creating a security barrier—deliberate? Or just habit?—but keeping Dale from hearing their words. It was obvious they were talking about the Beehive, and that all were agitated, even steady, unexcitable Zhao.
From the entrance, the whole of the habitat spread out like a landscape painting, neat little buildings clustered among fields and forests, the Temple dominating it all. It was a more pleasing view than Dale’s last, over his shoulder during the half-light of “night.” He was amused to realize that he had spent sixteen years away from the human habitat, and was now making his second entrance in the same day.