Part 17 (1/2)

Viktor could not help feeling that there had to be some some kind of point, or at least purpose, to it. After all, he had come close enough to losing his life often enough. He counted up: Three times frozen, three times successfully thawed without harm. He had taken three good cuts at those 180-to-1 odds; in fact, as far as the third time was concerned, you couldn't really figure any realistic odds at all. They might have floated in s.p.a.ce forever without being found, if it hadn't been for someone coveting the old interstellar s.h.i.+p enough to spend prodigally of scarce resources to get it-and for Mirian succ.u.mbing to one of the few generous impulses in an ungenerous world when he revived them. kind of point, or at least purpose, to it. After all, he had come close enough to losing his life often enough. He counted up: Three times frozen, three times successfully thawed without harm. He had taken three good cuts at those 180-to-1 odds; in fact, as far as the third time was concerned, you couldn't really figure any realistic odds at all. They might have floated in s.p.a.ce forever without being found, if it hadn't been for someone coveting the old interstellar s.h.i.+p enough to spend prodigally of scarce resources to get it-and for Mirian succ.u.mbing to one of the few generous impulses in an ungenerous world when he revived them.

For what purpose? When you survived so much for so long, shouldn't there be a reason? reason?

It couldn't be just to shovel excrement, or, as Reesa had been doing, breeding c.o.c.kroaches in offal to feed fish. Could it be to help Tortee in her plan? Because if that was it, Viktor told himself skeptically, whoever arranged purposes had picked a loser this time: there was no way way old old Ark Ark could be turned into the kind of s.p.a.ce battles.h.i.+p that could win a firefight with whatever it was on the planet of Nebo that killed people. could be turned into the kind of s.p.a.ce battles.h.i.+p that could win a firefight with whatever it was on the planet of Nebo that killed people.

On the other hand- On the other hand, Tortee was gone, and Tortee's computers were right there in the room with him.

There might be a purpose to his life, after all! Galvanized at the thought, Viktor leaped out of bed.

When, minutes, later, Reesa came s.h.i.+vering back into the bedroom skimpily wrapped in a towel, he hardly looked up.

She stopped abruptly, astonished. ”Viktor! What are you doing with those machines?”

He glanced at her blankly. ”What do you think I'm doing? That woman's got a data linkage-all the data banks from Ark Ark and and Mayflower, Mayflower, the copies are still intact! Now I'm looking for later stuff, trying to find out what kind of research anyone's done on that fireball they call the universe.” the copies are still intact! Now I'm looking for later stuff, trying to find out what kind of research anyone's done on that fireball they call the universe.”

”Are you out of your mind?” she demanded. ”We can't push Tortee too hard, Viktor. If you use her things without permission . . .”

He focused on her, his expression suddenly wrathful. Then, slowly, he relaxed. ”Oh, h.e.l.l,” he said. ”You're right, of course. But, my G.o.d, Reesa, this is the most important thing that ever happened! Just from the little bit I've been able to dig up so far, I'm pretty sure my first guess was right. Somehow or other, we've been picking up speed. Lots Lots of speed; nearly the velocity of light! And that fireball is the universe, all right, but we're traveling so fast that all the light from it is concentrated in front of us!” of speed; nearly the velocity of light! And that fireball is the universe, all right, but we're traveling so fast that all the light from it is concentrated in front of us!”

”Yes, Viktor. I see how important that is to you. But the most important thing is to stay on Tortee's good side,” Reesa said firmly.

”Oh, Christ,” Viktor said in disgust. ”She's loopy, you know. She isn't even doing what the council ordered-they think they're going to get power out of Ark, Ark, and she wants to send it out to fight a war!” and she wants to send it out to fight a war!”

Reesa was practicing patience. ”Dear Viktor, that's their business, not ours. They told us to work for her, so we'll do what she tells us to do.”

”Even if she's out of her mind? And-” He suddenly noticed that Reesa was s.h.i.+vering. ”Hey,” he said. ”don't catch pneumonia on me!”

She pulled the towel tighter around her, looking demure. ”Shall I get dressed?” she asked, but the mere fact that she had asked determined the answer; and, besides, he was suddenly aware that he was even barer than she, and equally cold.

”Well, not right away,” he said. ”Why don't you-we, I mean-why don't we get back under the covers for a while?”

”Let's just remember we have to leave time to change the sheets,” Reesa said practically; but then, when they were under the covers, spooned back to front with his arm over her, she waited for him to move or to speak. He didn't.

”You're thinking about that fireball,” she said into the pillow.

”I can't help it, Reesa. I-I wish I'd paid more attention to my father when I had the chance. He would have known more about it. This would have been the most interesting thing in the world to him.”

”I never doubted it was interesting, Viktor,” Reesa said gently, ”and I understand how you feel about solving it.”

”It's not just like solving a puzzle! It's important to everybody. It has something to do with what's going on on Nebo, too, I'm sure of it!”

”That's possible, Viktor. I don't see how, but I'm willing to believe it. All the same, Vik, I wouldn't try to convince Tortee, if I were you. All Tortee wants is to get Ark Ark flying again, with guns blazing. And she's got troubles of her own. She's the one who wants to colonize Nebo, and she's got the Great Catholics behind her-but whether they'll stay that way depends on how fast she can show some kind of results. And the others-well, the Peeps are the ones who talked the council into trying to use the fuel for microwave power, and there's talk in Allahabad that colonizing another planet's a good enough idea, but it shouldn't be Nebo.” flying again, with guns blazing. And she's got troubles of her own. She's the one who wants to colonize Nebo, and she's got the Great Catholics behind her-but whether they'll stay that way depends on how fast she can show some kind of results. And the others-well, the Peeps are the ones who talked the council into trying to use the fuel for microwave power, and there's talk in Allahabad that colonizing another planet's a good enough idea, but it shouldn't be Nebo.”

”Where then?” Viktor asked, startled.

”They're not very clear on that. Some of them think that since Ark's Ark's an interstellar s.h.i.+p basically they should try another star. Others have ideas about the moons of Nergal-they claim there ought to be enough heat from the brown dwarf to make something possible.” an interstellar s.h.i.+p basically they should try another star. Others have ideas about the moons of Nergal-they claim there ought to be enough heat from the brown dwarf to make something possible.”

”Shades of Tiss Khadek,” Viktor said, thinking. ”Well, maybe that ought to be investigated, too. But that fireball-”

”Viktor, Viktor,” his wife said gently. ”If you play your cards right you'll have plenty of chances to see what you can find out about the fireball. In your spare time. When Tortee isn't looking. But don't push it, because she doesn't want to hear.”

”I know, but-”

”Viktor. Did you know that both the Reforms and Allahabad are on overload, and the Peeps would be, too, if they hadn't been lucky enough to lose six or seven people last week? That means the whole colony has more people than they're allowed. So last week in Allahabad they froze three people for profaning shrines, and they're still eleven over their proper number.”

”Profaning shrines! My G.o.d, Reesa, what kind of people are we living with?”

”We're living with people on the edge of starvation, Viktor. That's what you have to remember. All the time.” She hesitated. ”Do you know what else I heard? Some of the Peeps don't think even the freezers should be kept going. They're revolutionary idealists-they think they are, anyway-and they've got some pretty nasty ideas. They think they might as well thaw out some of the freezers without reviving them.” She paused.

Viktor blinked at the back of her neck. ”Why would they do that?” he demanded.

”Fodder,” she said briefly. ”Protein sources. To feed to the chickens and the gerbils, to turn the corpses into useful food.”

”My G.o.d!” G.o.d!” Viktor repeated, appalled. Viktor repeated, appalled.

”So go slow, my darling, please.” She was silent for a moment, reaching up to put her hand over his as it cupped her breast. Then she said, ”Viktor? Now that I'm all sweet and clean, do you think you'd like to get me all sweated up one more time while we still have the use of the bed?”

And of course that was the best idea she'd had yet . . . only at the end of it, when she was shuddering and moaning, there was a timbre to the sounds his wife made that reached through to Viktor, even at the peak of his own o.r.g.a.s.m.

He had heard sounds like those before.

Not from Reesa. He had heard them from Marie-Claude in their one coupling, when her husband had died. Like Marie-Claude, Reesa was weeping even as they made love.

She didn't say anything in words. Neither did he. Only, when they were dressed again and making up the old woman's bed afresh, she stopped and looked at him. ”We have to make the best of things, Viktor,” she said harshly.

”Yes,” Viktor agreed; and that was the end of it. Neither of them needed to mention the names of lost Shan and Yan and Tanya, and little Quinn.

Making the best of things wasn't easy. In this starved world there was hardly a ”best” to aim for.

The project they were on promised more problems than rewards. Viktor had known all along that Tortee's plans were going to be exceedingly difficult. He hadn't known just how close they were going to be to outright impossible.

To begin with, there was the task of repairing Ark Ark from what was left of from what was left of Mayflower. Mayflower. How were they going to manage that? They didn't have an orbiting s.h.i.+pyard to do it in; they didn't have the big tools to do the job; they didn't have the shuttles to launch the tools they did have into orbit. They didn't even have the plans of the s.h.i.+ps to work from. Those records might still be in the files somewhere, the stored data fiches that no one had looked at for a hundred years; but it would take a hundred years more, Viktor estimated, to find them again. How were they going to manage that? They didn't have an orbiting s.h.i.+pyard to do it in; they didn't have the big tools to do the job; they didn't have the shuttles to launch the tools they did have into orbit. They didn't even have the plans of the s.h.i.+ps to work from. Those records might still be in the files somewhere, the stored data fiches that no one had looked at for a hundred years; but it would take a hundred years more, Viktor estimated, to find them again.

What he did have was a vast collection of pictures of the old interstellar s.h.i.+ps, which Tortee had had taken from orbit, scaled, and computerized so that at least you could take some rough dimensions from them and hope the parts would fit where you wanted them to. Of course, no one expected a neat job. In s.p.a.ce a few wrinkles or b.u.mps made no difference-you didn't have to streamline a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p. All it had to do was hold its air and stay together under acceleration.

a.s.suming somehow they could deal with that, the harder job was still ahead of them: Invading hostile Nebo itself.

Tortee's promise was good there. She had provided them with a detailed mosaic of Nebo's surface, with fine-scale blowups of all the areas where the lasers (were they really lasers? The things that jolted foreign s.p.a.ces.h.i.+ps, anyway) were based.

Reesa was the one who converted all of Tortee's photos into three-dimensional plans for the computer to display. Tortee had good programs, painfully salvaged and restored from the ancient vaults. Viktor had seen most of the pictures before: the great, tulip-shaped horn antennae, the spiral things that had to be some other kind of antenna (or perhaps a sort of waveguide for some sort of discharge?). He even saw, with a shock, a familiar shape near one of the cl.u.s.ters that magnification revealed to be the wreck of Ark's lander.

There was no sign of bodies anywhere near the lander. There was no sign of anything alive there, either, or anywhere else on Nebo.

After a week of hard work Viktor began to believe that targeting those conspicuous artifacts might indeed be possible after all. But after you targeted them, what were you going to hit them with?

That was when Tortee delivered on another promise. She had undertaken to find someone who knew something about rocket weaponry, and when she produced him Viktor was astonished to see that it was Mirian.

Viktor met Reesa as she came in from the Peeps' chambers, and the two of them went hand in hand to the workroom next to Tortee's. Mirian was waiting for them, nervously stroking his pale beard. ”Listen, Viktor,” he said at once, ”I didn't give you any breaks before, you know? I'm sorry about that. Things were tough for me. I hope you won't hold it against me.”

”Yeah?” Viktor said, not committing himself.