Delta Pavonis (18 page)

"Still getting us into trouble, eh, Dee?" Forrest said. He smiled to soften the remark, but it hurt. Dierdre wondered if she was growing too sensitive.

"Why was it so close? It hasn't been all that long. Giving it time to start, build up to near-luminal speed, then turn over and decelerate and reach orbit within a year from now, it didn't start from all that far away."

"Maybe they have a base nearby," Pflug said. "Or maybe it's a patrol ship. When they get here, you can ask them."

TEN

"Pack up," Sieglinde ordered. "We're moving operations."

Dierdre's head jerked up. "Are you serious? We're in the middle of a dozen experiments and there are three expeditions out in the bush."

"Not them, just the two of us. Delegate the experiments in progress to your subordinates. Neither of us have looked in on the bush expeditions in weeks. That operation can take care of itself."

"But Steve comes in in less than a week. We were going to take some vacation time—"

"The aliens may be here before then," Sieglinde cut in. "This takes precedence."

Deirdre's stomach went queasy. "Where are we going?"

"The polar transporter complex. I'm fairly certain that was their base of operations when they built this place. That's where they're most likely to check in when they get back."

Dierdre sighed, resigned. "I was afraid that's what it was. I'll call Sims, tell him we're coming in and arrange for quarters and lab facilities."

"Do it. Call the orbitals, have them standing by to send down instruments and equipment as I order them. Actually, we may not need much. It would be like tribal witch doctors trying to figure out a space ship." She stood for a moment, staring at nothing. "But then, we owe it to the species to see that the best witch doctor around is on hand."

The next few hours were hectic ones for Dierdre; not that it was a new experience. Sieglinde frequently launched into new projects with little or no warning and expected all preparations to be attended to without fuss or complaint, and at maximum speed. Dierdre arranged for flight clearance, told the choleric Sims to boot some VIPs from their quarters if he had to—he knew damn well that Sieglinde always had highest priority—and browbeat Survey logistics into keeping all possible equipment free for emergency standby. This last was difficult, because with exploration of the planet now in full swing, nearly everything was allocated on tight schedules. By the end of it all, Dierdre was wishing she were out in the bush getting chewed by bugs and nursemaiding a bunch of criminally incompetent researchers.

Last of all she made a tearful call to Forrest and told him to join her as soon as he got in from the bush. She hadn't cleared it with Sieglinde, but she figured that the boss wouldn't fuss. Four hours after getting notification of the move, the two were settling into Sieglinde's personal shuttlecraft. As the craft lifted, Sieglinde looked over the list of preparations Dierdre handed her.

"Not bad. You know, you're the best assistant I ever had. Would you like to make it permanent?"

Dierdre thought a moment. "I don't know. I've never been proposed to before. Do I get a ring or anything?"

Sieglinde actually laughed, a genuine rarity. "Ten thousand professional scientists and management specialists would cut each other's throats for that offer, and you have to smart off."

"It's my nature. Seriously, Doc, I'll have to think about it. It's not as if I didn't appreciate the opportunity, not to mention the honor. And I like working for you. It's just that for years I had my heart set on exploring and I only got a little taste of it. There's still a lot of exploring to be done. And there's Steve. Absolutely no way is he going to give up bush-busting, not even to live blissfully with me in whatever lab you've set up as headquarters."

"Men are that way, aren't they? Take your time. Depending on how our first encounter works out, the question may not be worth worrying about."

First encounter
, Dierdre thought. It was an old expression, one much used in the early days of space exploration. It might even have dated from before that time. It meant mankind's first meeting with alien intelligence. So far, there had been none. In defiance of all expectation, all the intelligent creatures contacted thus far had been human, with a yet-unexplained common origin. Evidence of the aliens was abundant, but the creatures themselves remained enigmatic. And now it was going to happen. So many firsts since they had established orbit around this planet, and Dierdre had been present at more than her share. It was enough to make a person believe in destiny.

The polar base was a sprawling facility as large as the one on Dinosaur Island. Its landing port seemed unusually active, with craft from various agencies and corporations in evidence. As they settled, Sieglinde's gaze swept the field, then sharpened on a line of three shuttles with profiles that were low, angular and, Dierdre could think of no better way to put it, menacing. They were matte black, with red insignia depicting a stylized Greek helmet, its graceful, curving crest offset by sinister, slanting eyeslits.

"What are
they
doing here?" The vessels belonged to the military Sálamids. The nucleus of the old Island Worlds fighting force, detachments of them had accompanied most of the interstellar expeditions.

Over the years, with little fighting to do, they had developed into veritable warrior-mystics. Their Spartan lifestyle had become an end in itself.

"Maybe they're just giving the troops some arctic training." Dierdre said, hopefully. A couple of years before, the Sals had requested permission to rotate their companies down to Dinosaur Island for tropical maneuvers. Sieglinde threatened to shoot down their shuttlecraft if they came in range. Dierdre wasn't looking forward to this meeting.

Sims greeted them as they descended the shuttle's ramp. "Good evening, Dr. Kornfeld." He shook Sieglinde's hand, then seized Dierdre in a bearish hug. "You too, Dee. Haven't seen you in too long." Sims had put on weight, and in his neat Survey uniform he looked much more the ranking administrator he was now than the hell-raising young explorer he had been such a short time before. Sieglinde's magic touch and the celebrity of their discovery had jumped many of them into positions they might not have reached in decades.

"What are the Sálamids doing here?" Sieglinde demanded as Sims escorted them toward the main facility. In their thermal suits and gloves, they felt the cold only on their faces. Even so, coming directly from the tropics, it was a shock.

"They came in yesterday," Sims said, grimly. "Claimed that there's something in their charter and the Articles that gives them the right to demand quartering and observation facilities when they have reason to believe military action may be called for. I told them to stay the hell away from my base and keep to their ships and I'd have them arrested if they tried to come into the main facility."

He grinned bitterly. "All bluff, of course. I always thought I was as tough as any other working stiff, but the Sals scare the hell out of me. They're like those sickleclaw dinos we used to see on the island—not much for brains, but the claws and teeth work fine."

"I'll pull their teeth," Sieglinde promised.

There was a knot of officials standing in the glassed-in reception area just off the landing pad. It was connected to the main facility by an umbilicus along which wheeled vehicles moved freight and personnel. Heads turned as Sieglinde approached. Dierdre noted that the prospect of battle banished Sieglinde's weariness. She walked with spine erect, all but bouncing on the balls of her feet. If she had been a cat, Dierdre thought, the fur would have been standing up along her spine.

"Ah, Dr. Kornfeld, how good to see you." It was an Althing functionary, a smoothie Dierdre remembered from previous encounters, named Wyeth.

"Why are they here?" Sieglinde demanded, jerking her head toward the orderly group in military uniforms. There were a dozen of them. Ten were heavily-armed enlisted personnel, the other two were officers in coveralls, armed only with pistols. They all wore chameleon camouflage that blended with any background.

One of the officers came forward. "Dr. Kornfeld, it's an honor—"

"Kornfeld-Taggart," she corrected. It wouldn't hurt to remind them that her late husband's grandfather had founded Sálamis, and that one of her sons, a Sálamid officer, had elected to stay behind with the original Sálamis, to help defend the Island Worlds that had remained in Sol orbit.

"Dr. Kornfeld-Taggart, of course. I am Colonel Singh, CO of the 25th Ala, Sálamid Rangers. We are here in accordance with Article Thirty-Two, which states that, should the general staff agree that a possible military situation exists, they may petition the
Althing
for a position of observation and counsel, with the option to assume command should hostilities become imminent. The staff have so petitioned and the
Althing
had acceded.'' He held out a document bearing the
Althing
seal. "This man," he nodded at Sims, "is being difficult."

"You just think he's difficult," Sieglinde said. "Now I'm here."

"Dr. Kornfeld-Taggart—"

"Sieglinde is OK, as long as you get the point."

The officer made a strangling sound. "Sieglinde, there is no cause for friction. For the time being, we are only here to observe. No action will be taken without consultation between the general staff and the
Althing
."

"Don't try to bullshit me. I know what you'll do. You'll wait until you think the situation warrants it, then you'll jump in without consulting anybody and justify yourself later, if there is a later, on grounds of 'military necessity.' I've played a key role in two major wars, Colonel, don't think you're dealing with an amateur. My husband was the premier diplomat in the formation of the Confederacy. My sons and daughters all served in important commands in the last war, and I operated at the highest levels of command in both wars."

"Goddammit, Sieglinde! Nobody's talking about fighting! All we have here are myself, my adjutant, and a light squad of Rangers. Even you can't be paranoid enough to think this represents some sort of military coup!"

"It has to start somewhere, doesn't it?" While this was going on, Dierdre was studying the Rangers. She had little contact with the military, and she found them interesting. The one closest to her was a young woman, no older than herself. She wore the usual camouflage and armor plates. Her face was almost pretty, framed by a helmet that swept down to outline her cheekbones. Blonde hair showed beneath its neckguard. As Dierdre studied her the woman looked back, alert but utterly uninterested, her blue eyes like ice chips. She was draped with armament and carried an awesomely powerful beam rifle.

Instinctively, Dierdre rested a hand on her own pistol, which with explorer's habit she wore whenever she was away from base, along with her comm set and medkit. Even as she did it, she realized how idiotic the gesture was. She had only fired her pistol in practice. What chance would she have against this professional killing machine? Not to mention the other nine. Plus, of course, the officers, who were probably just as deadly.

"Sieglinde," the colonel persisted, "I don't propose to argue with you. We have our orders, not only from staff but from the
Althing
. Argue with them. We are being approached by an alien power of unknown intentions, and it is our duty to be prepared."

Sieglinde looked at him wonderingly. "Prepared? These creatures build planets! Do you think they can't disassemble any fleet we can throw against them? You must be joking!"

"Guarantee of victory has never been a prerequisite for defense," the colonel insisted. "If attacked, we must do whatever we can, however futile it might be."

"Dr. Kornfeld," said the colonel's adjutant, "if I may interject a comment?"

Sieglinde eyed him coolly. "Go ahead."

"Major Quivera, at your service. What, Doctor, makes you so certain that the approaching vessel holds the same aliens who built this planet? It could be another race entirely, and one more nearly our equal in military capability."

"And they just happened to stumble across the same planet that we did, out of all the billions that must exist in this galaxy? Do you play poker, Major? If you bet like you think, I'd like to play a game with you. I'd clean you out within five hands."

The major flushed, and Dierdre decided it was time to step in and smooth things over. It was not her usual capacity, but she had done it before, with some success. "Excuse me, but we seem to be at something of an impasse here. I don't think it's to be resolved by a lot of teeth-baring and chest-thumping. As I see it, Colonel Singh has the authority of the Althing and the Articles. Dr. Kornfeld-Taggart's authority on the transporter bases is absolute. Why don't we dismiss the troops, retire to a bar someplace and work this out like sensible people?"

Wyeth spoke up again. "Miss Jamail, isn't it?" As if he didn't know perfectly well. "I believe Dr. Kornfeld's authority is more assumed than genuine, but you make an excellent point. Adjournment to a suitable refuge to sort matters out is a hallowed tradition and I propose we do just that."

Singh cocked a graying eyebrow toward Dierdre. "Jamail? You're the one who tried out the transporter without authority?"

"I'm afraid so," she admitted. The old celebrity status. It always worked like a charm.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance. If you'd been under my command, you'd still be in the brig."

She shook his proffered hand. "I guess my service still appreciates initiative."

"We do too. But," he jerked his head toward the file of his soldiers, "considering the capabilities of our troops, we can't afford to allow such latitude."

Dierdre pretended to study the soldiers closely. "I see you have a point. I wouldn't want them making any rash decisions in my vicinity." She turned to Sims. "Bobby, this is your base. What's convivial but not too noisy?"

"The Icebreaker is the first stop on the shuttle bus. It's fairly quiet at this hour."

The troops were given liberty and the officials climbed into the seats of a bus. It seemed to work pretty well, just as Sieglinde had taught her: first show your teeth, then turn on the charm. Of course, Sieglinde wasn't always so good in the charm department, and Dierdre had to work at it. But, by the time they reached the Icebreaker and ordered their drinks, the initial hostility had dissipated without either side yielding any points. Soon Sieglinde and Singh were trading stories of relatives in the last war. Family connections were always important among the Island Worlders. Quivera wanted to know all about the famous Team Red expedition. For the thousandth time, Dierdre obliged. Some of the Rangers drifted in and took a table, including the icy blonde Dierdre had eyed earlier. With their rifles propped against a wall and helmets on the floor beside their chairs, they behaved like any other group of raucous young people, except for a certain air of deadliness. For sure, nobody was going to start a fight in this place tonight.