Part 9 (1/2)

”Would it take rocks out of me?” David asked.

”Of course,” Jon cut in. ”The rocks in your head.”

David screwed up his face in surprisingly deep thought at that cut. ”I wouldn't mind, if it would take my headaches with it.” Caught off guard, even Jon agreed with David.

”If only it was that easy,” Annie whispered.

For the first time that day, Ray thought about the doctor's report of last night. If it was just something in their heads, maybe they could come up with a solution that easy. After all, Ray had all that industrial capability waiting to go to work. Maybe they could build a full medical center.

After that, watching the nanos' work was about as interesting as watching paint dry. Mary ran a quick a.n.a.lysis; she already had a trend curve of time vs. expected recovered nanos. Her results were a tad below her optimum, but every planet was a bit different, she told all.

”Can we go swimming now?” David pleaded.

Mary shrugged. ”All the work is done. It's just a matter of waiting. Why not?”

Jeff shook his head in disbelief. ”No shoveling. No backbreaking work. No moving mountains to stripped soil, leave mud holes all over. That's not work!”

”I'll take it any day,” Annie said. ”So will me ma.”

”Well, sonny boy,” Mary winked at the two, ”try that without my gear and know-how. It's easy to lose nanos, and they are not cheap to replace. People who know what they're doing and have the right gear can make the hardest jobs look easy.”

Jeff was properly chastised. ”How expensive is your gear? No. Can you make that stuff in your factory?”

Ray shook his head. ”Nanos are built up one atom at a time. We didn't bring that technology. Probably would take us a couple of years to make the tools that made the stuff to make the gizmos to make them.” Ray paused to see if Jeff had followed him.

”I see. We lost some of the Landers' tech, like fusion plants and radios. We had to concentrate on growing crops to feed us. Prioritize or die.”

”You got it. We could make these things in our own lifetime if we had to. Our factory is mult.i.tasking.”

”But should we?” Annie asked.

”We'll have to wait and see,” Ray said as Ca.s.sie brought up a mule to give him a lift to the swimming hole. The pond was a good kilometer across and two or three long. On the right side-the side against the hill Mary was mining-the trees were undisturbed, a tall and multicolored stand of ancient growth, species of many different origins sharing the s.p.a.ce in peace. Their long shadows threw cooling shade over the pond. The left side was a different story. A yellow gash showed where earth and plants had lost their battle against gravity, probably aided and abetted by rain and wind. Thick trunks had been washed into the water flow, helping to build the dam that created the pond. Other downed logs, surrounded by brush, were pus.h.i.+ng up new life. Ray tried to estimate which of the four potential evolutionary tracts was winning, but he wasn't sure which plants represented which of the three animals he'd been shown. Overall it looked like an even mix, with Earth green taking about a quarter.

Ray's head began to throb, probably the glare of the sun on the lake. He looked for a place in the shade. Work clothes were coming off, tops, bottoms. The miners and street kids had no regard for nudity. Annie started backpedaling.

”What's the matter, you never been skinny-dipping?” Jeff asked, s.h.i.+rt off, shoes coming off.

”Yes, with girls.” Annie was still backing.

”And the boys never came around?” Jeff asked slyly.

”No, but if they did, we made it clear to 'em they were not welcome.”

”And they listened!”

”Young women have ways of making it very clear to even very dumb boys what they want, Jeff. I don't want this. I'm going back to the wagon.”

”Annie, there's no one here,” Jeff pleaded.

”No one?”

”Well, from Hazel Dell.”

”Father Joseph is here.”

”He's off talking to one of the marines.”

”He'll be back. I won't be.” She headed back to camp.

Jeff tried to follow. One shoe off, he stepped on a rock, ended up hopping for a few steps, then fell. ”Annie, help!”

Ray suspected he'd get no quiet on the shady side of the lake. As a senior officer, he also didn't want to be a witness to anything he couldn't look the other way fast enough to avoid. The d.a.m.n canes made that difficult. He limped for the other side. Shouts and laughter came from the lake; someone was being dunked. Ray wished Rita was here and they had the lake to themselves. He could wish for a lot of things. What he had was what he had.

His headache was worse. Ahead, he could hear the chatter of young voices. Right, the kids had found a cave, or overhang, or something. Ray chuckled; they'd headed for it before a swim. He'd never understand people half his size, no matter how many kids he and Rita had. There was a trail leading up the side of the erosion. Broken twigs and bent back limbs showed where the kids had pa.s.sed.

At one point he almost stopped. It was crazy for a grown man on canes to chase after kids, especially with a headache coming on. However, on second review, his headache was receding, and even his backache was less than he'd expect after a day like today. And someone had to check on the kids. The swimming party was fully engaged at the moment; it looked like he was delegated the children. It might be good practice.

He found the overhang. Childish voices came from its deep shadows. There was a turn in there; it was a cave. ”David, Jon, Rose!” Ray called out. The children suddenly got quiet. ”Come out, kids. Are you sure there's not a bear in there?” Ray had no idea what might live in a cave on a planet with multiple evolutionary tracks. The kids didn't make a peep.

Ray was tired. He'd walked more in the past few minutes than Rita usually made him do on the exercise machine back home. He ought to sit down and rest. Movement drew his eye to the cave. Probably just a reflection of the sun off the water below. The swimmers were creating quite a few waves. Ray wondered what in there was keeping the kids so quiet. Probably was cooler; it sure was hot out here. He started in, careful to get his canes in place before risking each step.

The cave turned ninety, degrees just past the overhang. The walls looked smooth. Ray studied the ceiling; it was four meters up and even. Considering how Mary had knocked around the next hill over, anything that wanted to fall was down already. There weren't any loose rocks around his canes. If both hands hadn't been busy with sticks, Ray might have scratched his chin in thought. The pa.s.sage made another ninety-degree change in direction, turning deeper into the ravaged hill. Ray doubted there would be enough light for him to hobble safely. ”Kids, I really can't go much farther. You're going to have to come out.”

He reached the turn. The children huddled around a column reaching from floor to ceiling, each facing a side. Touching it with both hands, they leaned forward, forehead resting against the stone. The side facing Ray pulsed in an inviting, blue luminosity. Without thought, canes and feet covered the distance to the shaft. Even as part of him was drawn, moth-like, part of him stood back. Is this safe? What's drawing me? Are the kids in danger? What's happening?

Ray didn't know. Reaching out, he touched the column. It was surprisingly warm, like Rita's body as she lay in the sun. Good memories flooded Ray, leaving him awash in happiness. Comfortable reflections washed through his mind's eye, relaxing him as he rested his forehead upon the column.

Then the memories changed. Recollections of the Academy and early schools spun through his mind, followed by images of structures shooting gracefully into the sky. Waterfalls and giant purple trees marked off the s.p.a.ces between high-reaching spires. Ray knew, without doubt, that this was a place of knowledge, a center of learning. The view changed. The buildings still reached for the sky, but the towers were smaller, more sized to the individual. Trees still grew, and water burbled over and down a fountain. Older heads lived here, people who found time to reflect, to grow wise. This was a home for grandparents.

And the picture in Ray's mind changed again. The towers this time were more subdued, chunky. There were places to climb, to reach out, to tumble down without being hurt more than young bodies needed for their learning. Small pools of water collected here and there where little hands might splash and play without risk. The house enclosed the gra.s.s, water, trees, not so much in walls as in a protective womb. A home to raise children in.

Now the pictures flashed before Ray faster and faster, but leaving behind a clear feeling of understanding. That was where the people gathered to rule themselves. Here was where they went to celebrate birth, death, hope.

The architecture changed. Now it was more grounded in the earth. Where one reached for the sky, this cherished stone and soil, luxuriating in the darkness of the cave. Again, Ray saw the place for learning, for the wise and for the young, for joy and sorrow and expectation.

And again change came over what Ray saw. The dispa.s.sionate part of him wondered which of these architectures went with which evolutionary line Kat had shown him, for surely he was seeing the flowering of those species, the best they had grown into. The column was their testament. The relic that proclaimed they had pa.s.sed this way. Was it a welcome to those who came after them, or a declaration to humanity to stay away? While the soldier in Ray couldn't help asking those questions, that part of him who felt more than saw what they presented knew the answer even as he asked it. This was their h.e.l.lo. We're here. We are like you. Come and join us. Be one with us.

Ray remembered the dream. ”We are all one, under the skin of our differences,” the Gardener said. Now he stood before Ray, smiling, even as more and more scenes from different worlds played through Ray's mind. He saw worlds with one sun, two suns, three. Worlds where gravity was low and whirligigs flew with gentle grace. Worlds where everything was heavy and life inched its way more carefully than he did on canes.

The Gardener nodded. ”They've all been here. Come to smell my flowers, to rest beneath my trees. Here they took a moment's respite from their cares and struggles. Those of the Three came here, and I showed them what nature could be, left to herself.” The Gardener smiled, but there was a gash over his eye. The arm that had swept possessively to take in all that Ray had seen, now ended above the elbow. The Gardener didn't seem to notice.

”This is a place where grown-ups played, where they came to discover again how to be small, and open and ready to learn. I'm only here to take care of the grounds. But they are beautiful, untouched grounds.” As Ray listened, the voice sputtered. The Gardener was missing a leg. Splotches appeared on his skin.

He glanced down. ”Never had this happen, not in all these years. Don't know why.” He looked up, captured Ray's eyes with his own. ”I've taken care of what I can. There's nothing more I can do. Seems there's less every moment. Remember my lesson.”

”Yes,” Ray said...to an empty cave. The column was cool to the touch now. The children whimpered softly.