Part 31 (2/2)

”No, my mind hasn't snapped, McKell,” he a.s.sured me as he lifted an arm and pointed off to my right. ”Look over there.”

I followed the direction of his finger and found myself looking at one of the alien displays, this one marked with yellow-and-black squares. ”All right.

What is it?”

”It's the destination setting,” he said. ”Destination being defined as the particular stargate you'll be traveling to if you slide down the centering arm and hit the trigger. Now; do you see the display to its left?”

”Such as it is,” I said. The second display was an identical array of squares, except that all of them were black.

”That one gives the identification code for the stargate you just left,” he said. ”Unfortunately, whether by design or malfunction, it only stays lit for a few minutes after transport before going blank again. That's why I couldn't get back by myself; by the time I realized the significance of that particular display, it had long since gone black. However-”

”Wait a minute,” I said, frowning. ”How do you know all this? Tera told me the Meima archaeologists didn't get very far in their a.n.a.lysis of the thing.”

He shrugged. ”Well, I have been here eleven days, you know,” he reminded me.

”I.

couldn't just sit around and do nothing. And though you probably didn't know it, I was once a Trem'sky Scholar in Alien Studies. I did quite a fair bit of archaeology and alien translation back in my youth.”

It was a speech clearly and carefully designed to impress and lull the gullible.

But I wasn't in the mood to be impressed, and lulling was completely out of the question. ”That's baloney, and you know it,” I said bluntly. ”You had one course in archaeology and three in alien language, all of which focused on known species and didn't have a thing to do with interpreting unknown scripts. And that Trem'sky Scholars.h.i.+p was an honorary t.i.tle Kaplanin University gave you after you donated fifty million commarks to them for a new archaeological research center.”

His face had gone rigid. ”You're very well informed,” he said softly. ”One might wonder how. And why.”

”The how is that I have friends with good memories,” I said. ”The why is just as simple: I like to know who it is I'm working for. I certainly won't find that out by taking what you say at face value.”

He eyed me speculatively. ”You can see for yourself why I've been secretive about myself and my agenda,” he said, waving a hand around him. ”What's your excuse?”

”I like my life,” I told him. ”Not my current circ.u.mstances, necessarily, b.u.t.the basic idea of continued existence.”

”And what are your current circ.u.mstances?”

”Somewhat messy,” I said. ”But we're getting away from the point. How do you know so much about the stargate?”

We locked gazes for another few seconds. Then his eyes drifted away from mine, as if he was too tired to keep up his end of the nonverbal battle. ”Elaina doesn't know this,” he said, ”but the archaeologists had already cracked much of the alien script before my people and I arrived on Meima to build the Icarus.

With that hurdle crossed, we were able to gain considerable knowledge of the inner workings of the artifact.”

His lips puckered. ”Though we still thought that what we had was a new stardrive, with the destination and incoming displays having to do with navigation.”

”So where is all this knowledge?” I asked. ”I presume you're not going to try to tell me you memorized it.”

His expression had gone all speculative again. ”Why do you need to know?”

”In case something happens to you,” I explained patiently. ”I don't know whether you know it, but you're the very last of the Mohicans now-the rest of your group has been rounded up and are in Ihmisit hands. Possibly Patth hands by now, actually; I haven't kept up-to-date on developments. If they get you, too, that'll be it as far as the good guys are concerned.”

”And if you know where the data is, you might be tempted to trade it for that life you want so much to keep,” he pointed out. ”I think it might be safer if I.

kept that little secret to myself for the time being.”

I snorted. ”Standing tall and stalwart against the invading hordes might be good melodrama, but it makes lousy real-world policy,” I told him flatly. ”Face it, Cameron, you're in a dangerous and completely untenable position here, and you're going to have to bite the bullet and trust someone. At the moment, that's me.”

Again his eyes drifted away. ”I suppose you're right,” he said with a sigh.

”All right. The data is stored in code in a file on my notepad here. If something happens to me, either Elaina or my executive a.s.sistant Stann Avery will be able to locate and decode it.”

”Got it,” I said. It wasn't the entire truth, I knew-he'd given in much too easily for that. But it was probably at least a partial truth, and for the moment I could live with that. ”All right, then. I'll send you in some more food and water when I get back to the Icarus. Is your little toilet system working okay?”

”Wait a minute,” he said, his face suddenly gone taut. ”What do you mean, when you get back? We can both go-no one has to stay here to operate the device.”

I shook my head. ”Sorry, but I'm afraid you can't show your face yet. I didn't tell you: We've disa.s.sembled most of the s.h.i.+p's interior. Makes it a lot safer for the return trip, but it also means there's no place left where you could have been hiding. You suddenly pop up now and someone's going to start putting the pieces together.”

”What about the smaller sphere?” he asked, his voice taking on an edge of panicked insistence. ”I could have been hiding in the smaller sphere.””Besides which, you're the one who holds the key to this bombsh.e.l.l,” I continued, gesturing at his notepad. ”Don't forget, we've got a murderer aboard the Icarus. The farther you and your notepad stay away from him, the better.”

He wasn't happy about it-that much was evident from the play of emotions across his face. But he could see the logic in what I was saying, and a few extra days of isolation didn't stack up all that badly against the possibility of being knifed in the back. Slowly, reluctantly, he gathered control of himself and nodded. ”You're right,” he said with a sigh. ”All right, I'll stay. Any idea how long I'll have to be here?”

”Until we find a safe place to put down,” I said. ”Don't worry, I'll let you know.”

”You'd better,” he warned with a game attempt at a smile. ”The view in here doesn't really have all that much to recommend it.”

”You can start naming the constellations,” I suggested, getting to my feet.

”So.

How do I work this thing?”

He gestured to the articulated arm angling its way toward the center of the sphere twenty meters above us. ”Once I've set the destination panel, I expect all you'll need to do is work your way along the arm to the trigger section at the end,” he said. ”Basically the same as you did on the Icarus.”

Except that on the Icarus the gravitational field had been pointing the other way. It looked like I was in for a long climb. ”Right,” I said. ”Don't worry if it takes me a couple of hours to get the supplies to you. There isn't a lot of privacy in the s.h.i.+p right now, and I don't want anyone to catch me putting a survival pack together. Someone might jump to the wrong conclusion.”

”Or even the right one?” he suggested.

I nodded. ”Especially the right one.”

A ghost of something flicked across his face. ”You'll let my daughter know I'm all right, won't you? We've hardly spoken since the trip began-there just haven't been any safe opportunities-but I know she's worried about me.”

”And vice versa?” I suggested.

His lips compressed. ”Very much vice versa,” he agreed quietly. ”I'd appreciate it if you'd watch over her for me.”

”I will,” I promised. ”You can count on it.”

For a moment he studied my face, as if trying one last time to see if I was indeed someone in whom he could place this kind of trust. I met his eyes stolidly, not flinching away from the probe, exuding all the sincerity I could muster. And after a couple of heartbeats he nodded. ”All right,” he said with a sigh. ”You'd best be on your way, then.”

I nodded and gave a whistle. Pax emerged from a ma.s.s of wiring he'd been nosing through and bounded enthusiastically over to me. I managed to catch him before he could start with equal enthusiasm up my leg and settled him into a cradling carry in the crook of my elbow. ”I'll let you know when you can come out,” I told him, crossing the sphere to where the arm was anch.o.r.ed. ”I'll either come myself or send in one of the ferrets.”

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