They weren't falling very fast, luckily. They'd only dropped four or five kilometers and so far, the sub shrugged the pressure off. If they were five kilometers down, there were still fifteen kilometers of empty water to fall through before they hit bottom. Michael had no illusions that the sub would survive those depths. Thousands of atmospheres of pressure awaited them at the bottom of the abyss.
After yet one more run-through of their checklist of possible fixes, Barendts sat back with a frustrated sigh. "I should have acted earlier," he said.
Michael looked at him appraisingly. "You're the saboteur," he said. He didn't mean it as an accusation, just a statement of fact.
The marine shrugged. "Card-carrying member of the rebels, that's me."
Michael seized on the distraction. "Tell me about that."
"I had been ordered into deep cover two years ago. Told to get close to Crisler, which I did." Barendts seemed relieved to be talking. "When the Envy showed up, it seemed like a pointless distraction. I didn't pay much attention until Crisler moved us all to Chandaka and hired Linda Ophir. He needed some Chicxulub inscriptions translated. She agreed to that and then the whole matter was dropped. That's the way it looked, anyway.
"One night my contact at Chandaka called me. Ophir had been trying to get out, he said. She had some kind of information about the Envy— something that had scared the hell out of her. That was two days before you and Herat showed up.
"I didn't get a chance to find out what she'd discovered. She was murdered— well, you know about that. Crisler went into overdrive. I guess he looked calm in public, but boy he was on the edge the last day or so. Wanted us to get the hell off Chandaka in a hurry.
"And that's why the rebels attacked the city," said Michael. "But not the Redoubt. Why?"
Barendts grinned mirthlessly. "They did. You didn't see that attack, and you weren't told, on Crisler's orders. The attack failed. Crisler put a lockdown on all news about the war after we left. Well, he got those orders from higher up, I guess. The fact is, the R.E.'s losing."
Michael put his head back and stared out at the dark water. "Unbelievable," he muttered. He was remembering the riot he'd been caught in during the attack. Years ago, he had helped instigate such chaos. Was Kimpurusha still part of the R.E.? Or had it been liberated while he was away? The thought filled him with a pang of something— regret, loss, he wasn't sure. He scowled at the dumb metal of the sub's controls. Maybe if he'd stayed there, he might have been able to help…
"What do you think that is?" Barendts was pointing through the window.
Something long and threadlike rose past the sub. It couldn't have been more than a few millimeters thick and when the floodlights hit it, it shone pale white. But outside the lights, it glowed pale green against the darkness.
"Is there supposed to be indigenous life here?" asked Barendts.
"I have no idea. We never got to that part of the tour." They watched as more of the threadlike things passed. They seemed benign enough.
"Anyway," said Barendts, "The R.E.'s taking a beating. They can't exempt their own ships from the economy, after alclass="underline" even the Banshee has to keep up her micropayments for all the shipboard systems. They're living on credit right now, but if the ship stays here in slow space too long, they'll run out of credit… and the whole ship'll just shut down."
Michael stared at him. "You're joking."
"If a ship can operate without oversight from the Economy, it can be used to set up an independent colony," said Barendts with a shrug. "Lots of military ships would join us in a second, if they weren't utterly dependent on the Economy."
Michael laughed without humor. It made sense, in a sick sort of way. "They used to say, back home, that the R.E. only survives by continuing to expand. The core worlds are utterly dependent on revenue from the colonies to function."
"Yeah. An ecologically sustainable economy can't require surpluses. The R.E. does. So it has to keep growing to exist. If places like Chandaka join us, the core worlds stop dead just like the Banshee would. The Rights Owners would either have to give up their franchises, which they won't do, or else… no money, no transactions, no operating machinery."
"Billions would die," said Michael.
"If we don't get to them in time, yes." Barendts didn't look too concerned. "They made their bed, they'll have to lie in it. But you see, that's what Crisler's trying to prevent. If we win, everything unravels. The R.E. will collapse more completely than Rome.
"But Crisler seems to think he's discovered a secret weapon to beat us with."
"He has," said Michael. "Or he may have, anyway." He told Barendts about the von Neumann machines of the Chicxulub. The marine's eyes widened as the implications sank in.
"But how are the things supposed to recognize rebel worlds? We all use alien technology, we have to until we set up our own industries…"
Michael nodded. This was the conclusion he had come to on the way back to the city; it had fuelled his urgent need to collect Rue and the others and go straight to the authorities. "It all depends on how the Chicxulub systems identify ships and worlds. Herat thinks they would have to be sneaky, nosing around the outskirts of a system and sniffing out enemy action. Because they can't get in close, they have to rely on fairly crude detection methods to tell who's who. Basically, anything that's not broadcasting R.E. integration codes would be suspect. Presumably the rebels encrypt all their transmissions, so the von Neumann's couldn't even tell if those were of human origin or not.
"So because you use alien technology, the von Neumann machines would have to treat all alien worlds as possible rebel worlds. The only worlds that would pass muster would be those using nanotags and Rights payments— those inside the Economy. Everyone else— everyone— would be suspicious."
"So," said Barendts, "in order to guarantee wiping out the rebels, Crisler's machines would have to wipe out every alien world."
Michael nodded. "We just found this out. We were on our way to tell the Compact when the ambush happened."
For once, Barendts looked abashed. "I'm really sorry I didn't get to you guys sooner. I wasn't sure whether you were sympathizers or what. I was basically on my own when we were at the Envy," he said disconsolately. "I wanted to force the Banshee to turn around, so I blew the life-support stacks. Of course, Captain Cassels turned out to be a lot more resourceful than I'd counted on." He grimaced.
"When we got here to Oculus, it took us totally by surprise when it turned out there were autotrophs here. And then you and the professor lit out for autotroph territory… Crisler went ballistic. I gather you went to get the Chicxulub stuff translated?"
Michael nodded.
"We got our orders an hour ago," Barendts went on. "It was all I could do to set up a hack on the inscape spoofers, so that the other guys' aim would be off for a few minutes. That's why you're still alive: I ghosted you, threw their aim off."
"Except for Max."
"Yeah… a lucky shot, I guess."
They were silent for a while.
Michael frowned out at the dark water. "We seem to be slowing down." The giant wall of ice was passing at a slower rate now. It was also sloping away from them, an uneven inverted landscape.
"You're not telling me everything," said Michael. "There's something else going on: Crisler didn't just come along on this trip to chaperone Rue, did he? He had people to meet at Colossus. For instance, why weren't all of you at the ball the other night?"
"Oh, that. There's a local politician, Mallory, who wants to bring the halo worlds into the R.E. It'll never work, but that's why Crisler had us ride the beam down here; some big political maneuvering's going on here between his supporters and the Compact. Mallory wanted the Envy's ring changed to pass by his home world…" Barendts glanced over his shoulder. "You think she refused? And Mallory got Crisler to order the hit?"