Serpent's Gift (26 page)

Lost in his musings, the trip seemed to take only a few minutes. As he circled the scooter over the flat plain that led up to the cliff face leading into the caverns, Serge groaned aloud, though there was no one to hear him. He'd had a faint hope that they'd beaten the Horizons Unlimited crew to the site ...

after all, it had been less than thirty-six hours since the radonium-2 alarm had first sounded. But Morrow's crew had been busy.

Five bubbletents of varying sizes had been erected on the glassy rock plain leading up to the mountains, and brilliant floodlights

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illuminated the entire camp. In their harsh, knifelike glare, the slag gleamed, black streaked with red, brown, and greenish-gray.

Serge landed the scooter fifty meters from the cliff face, then he and the old Mizari dismounted and started toward the airlock. When they reached it, Serge quickly keyed in his ID code, signaling the lock to open.

It didn't.

Biting his lip with frustration, Serge keyed in the code again. He was angry--

but not particularly surprised--to discover that the code had been changed.

Suddenly a voice spoke over his radio, almost deafening after the long silence. "May I help you?" The words were polite, but the tone was surly.

Turning to look for the newcomer's whereabouts, Serge started violently to find a tall figure wearing a heavy-duty suit standing behind him--so close they were almost touching. Peering into a face shadowed by the helmet and the floodlights, he glimpsed enough of the features to realize that the newcomer was black, but could tell little else. "Uh, hello," he stammered. "I am Serge LaRoche, one of the Academy instructors, and this is Esteemed Ssoriszs--"

"I know who he is," the newcomer interrupted. "I was in a meeting with him for about an hour today." Serge could still not guess the sex of the speaker.

Wishing that he could talk to the Mizari, Serge glanced uneasily at the alien.

"I am one of the archaeologists who has been working here at the Lamont Cliffs dig," he tried again. "May I ask who you are?"

"Andrea Lynch, crew boss," she identified herself brusquely. "Can't he"--she jerked her helmet at the Mizari--"talk to us?"

"Not unless we step into the airlock," Serge said. "The Esteemed One is not wearing a voder at the moment."

"Come on then," she said shortly, then keyed them into the airlock. Serge was careful to keep his helmet pointed toward her face, but his peripheral vision was excellent--he saw and memorized the code Lynch used.

Once in the airlock, the two humans removed their helmets and Ssoriszs turned off his field. Quickly Serge explained that they wished to attach the portable neutralizer to the star-shrine, then collect the other artifacts and their equipment before everything was contaminated. Lynch began shaking her head before he was halfway through his plea, and she continued to shake it even after he was silent again.

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"No," she said, biting the word off as though she had a bad taste in her mouth. "I can't allow that. It's too dangerous."

"But I am wearing a heavy-duty suit of the same type as you are, and Ssoriszs has on a field that provides maximum radiation protection," Serge pointed out, his heart sinking. "We will only be here for perhaps thirty minutes. Even with regular pressure gear, our exposure in that time would be negligible."

Lynch shook her cropped head. "No," she said flatly, then, as though remembering that she was actually employed by StarBridge Academy, she amended her refusal to, "I'm sorry, but that is impossible."

"But--"

The crew boss's mouth tightened. "I'm very busy, and must get back to work now. We'll let you know when the site is safe again."

"Ms. Lynch," Ssoriszs said, "only today I heard Mr. Morrow say that there was no danger in Cavern One. May we not at least remove the artifacts in their stasis fields and the archaeological equipment? Some of it is extremely delicate, and we fear that it will be in the way of your workers and become damaged."

"I'm sorry, uh, Esteemed Liaison"--she'd obviously had to think to recall Ssoriszs' title--"but I have my orders. Our insurance carrier will not permit anyone but a Horizons Unlimited employee access to a contaminated worksite."

"We would be entirely willing to sign any type of waiver that you wish,"

Serge said hastily. "I'm sure Mr. Morrow would allow us on the site--he's supported our project since the beginning. May we speak to him?"

"He's up at the station."

"Well, can you call him?"

"Mr. Morrow is asleep," Lynch said curtly, "and I'm not going to disturb him over something like this. I will tell him that you were here when he checks in."

Serge stood his ground. "We'll wait, if we may, until we may speak with Mr.

Morrow. I saw an empty bubbletent as we landed ... we can stay there."

Lynch's skin was too dark to betray an angry flush, but her eyes flashed and she took a slow, deep breath. "Listen, Mr. LaRoche, I don't have time to argue about this. I have to oversee my crew."

"You
listen--" Serge began, then he broke off, aware that if he said any more, he'd say too much. He kept his temper in control only by clenching his teeth until his jaw ached. Silently, he and Lynch eyed each other.

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Finally, after what had to be more than a full minute of silence, Lynch glanced away, and Serge heard her mutter an obscenity under her breath.

"Look," she snarled. "I can't let you into the caverns, and that's that. But since you insist, I'll bring the damned artifacts in the stasis fields and all the equipment out to you, and you can take 'em back to the Academy. That's the best I can do." She fell silent, but Serge could almost hear her unspoken final thought.
Take it or leave it.

He glanced at Ssoriszs, saw the Mizari's tentacles dip downward in unison, then up again. Serge's mouth twitched.
Not quite a nod, but I get the
message, Esteemed One.
He nodded at Andrea Lynch. "Thank you," he said coldly. "And when you are moving the stasis containers, please, I implore you, be careful."

"Wait out by your scooter and we'll bring them out," Lynch said impatiently, helmet raised, poised to go.

"We will need plas-steel cord to tie the items safely in place," Serge reminded her.

"Right." The helmet was already past her nose. Serge quickly donned his own, locking it into place.

Back at the scooter, Serge stood looking at the little vehicle, trying to figure out how in the universe he was going to cram all the equipment and artifacts onto it. Motioning Ssoriszs up into the cargo compartment, he waited impatiently for Lynch.

Scant minutes later she appeared, arms full, with another space- suited figure behind her. Serge piled the artifacts around Ssoriszs, wedging the stasis containers securely into place. Then he began trying the instruments onto the scooter, using every projection available. Lynch stood by silently as he worked.

Serge finished, then put a hand on the back of the pilot's seat, preparatory to climbing aboard. But before he did, the young man turned back again, knowing that although the crew boss could not see his expression, she would be able to hear the tone of his voice. "Thank you so very much for your gracious assistance, Ms. Lynch," he said, letting the sarcasm drip. "And be assured ... we will be contacting Mr. Morrow about the star-shrine."

"You do that," Lynch retorted, turning to leave. As she did, her foot struck a small forked object that Serge had overlooked because it was lying in the absolute blackness of the scooter's shadow. "Shit!" she muttered, catching herself, then scooping it up. "Here, Mr. LaRoche. You almost forgot your damned dowser."

My what?
Serge wanted to demand, but she had already thrust the moisture finder into his hands and was skip-bouncing away,

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knees bent and flexed, moving with the grace and assurance of one who has spent hours in a pressure suit in extremely low gravity.

His fingers hampered by his space suit gloves, Serge managed to fasten the small Y-shaped device to his belt.
Good thing I didn't lose this,
he thought.

The moisture finder was designed to analyze rock and soil and indicate where water had once run or stood. Archaeologists used it to trace the paths of vanished rivers, or to find the locations of wells that had been dry for centuries or millennia.

Finally, after a considerable struggle, Serge managed to squeeze himself into the pilot's seat without snagging his suit on any of the equipment tied behind it. As he fastened his seat restraints, he felt fatigue wash over him like an ocean.

Moving like an automaton, he powered up the scooter and took off, fighting the fog of exhaustion that threatened to engulf him.
To the victor, the spoils,
he thought grimly.
And Andrea Lynch was certainly victorious today. She
remains in possession of the star-shrine. . . the real treasure. I fear that it is
lost to us, lost forever. . .

Sick with despair, Serge wondered how he'd ever face Professor Greyshine again.

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Four days after their first meeting, Rob, Ssoriszs, Kkintha ch'aait, and Janet Rodriguez gathered to meet with Jeff Morrow and his crew boss at Horizons Unlimited's office at StarBridge Station. Rob arrived late; he'd been delayed by an incident between a Vardi senior and a Heeyoon freshman. After helping to defuse the potentially explosive confrontation, and soothing ruffled fur and fronds, he'd left the two safely in the care of the guidance counselors for their respective species.

The meeting was under way when he walked in. Muttering a quick apology, Rob took his seat. Jeff nodded, continuing with what he'd been saying. "...

unsure of what could have triggered it, but it's a disturbing finding. I wanted to let you know as soon as possible."

Rob was sitting next to Janet Rodriguez. He leaned over and breathed,

"What's up?"

"The radonium-2 is breeding in more than one location under the Lamont Cliffs," the engineer whispered back. "It's now in several veins, instead of just one."

Damn!
Rob thought. I
should have figured--nothing is ever simple around
here!

Kkintha ch'aait was the first to speak after Morrow's announcement. "How do you propose to remedy this, Jeffrey?" she asked in her high-pitched, cluttering voice.

"Expediently, I hope," Morrow said. "The first thing on the 154

docket is a thorough survey of
all
the radonium veins running through the asteroid. If they are as they should be, then we'll concentrate on sealing off the contaminated deposits beneath the mountains, isolating them. Then we'll remove the R-2 by the vaporization technique I described to you during our initial meeting."

"Sounds like a big job," Janet said, looking at Andrea Lynch.

The crew boss nodded. "Yes. I'm going to need a larger crew, and I've already taken steps to hire more people."

"When wil your survey be complete?" Kkintha asked.

"Five days ... six at the outside," Andrea Lynch replied. The woman seemed greatly subdued this meeting--much of her smug condescension had

evaporated. Maybe Jeff had spoken to her about her attitude, Rob thought, or--he took a closer look at her--maybe Lynch was too tired to cause trouble.

Today it was the crew boss's turn to look as though she hadn't been sleeping. Her features were pinched, as though she'd lost weight these last couple of days.

Jeff looked slightly better--at least the shadows beneath his eyes had faded.

But the normally impeccably groomed engineer was a mess. His clothes appeared slept-in, and his hair was tousled, as though it hadn't been combed since he first got up. The distort cuff he still wore (as did Lynch) was slightly askew. Knowing that the younger man had been working 'round the clock to try and save the Academy touched Rob.

Jeff's busting his ass,
he thought.
I just hope his best will be good enough . ..

"We'll be sending a team over to do extensive testing here in the school,"

Morrow was saying. "There are a couple of veins that run right below it--one big one in particular that we'll have to keep an eye on."

"I've been running checks myself every twelve hours," Janet said. "No indication of any change."

"Your equipment isn't as powerful as ours," Lynch said. "We've got a new radiation sensing device that's state-of-the-art."

"I believe we should plan for an evacuation," Kkintha said quietly. The little Chhhh-kk-tu's formerly luxuriant chest ruff looked thin and patchy as she absently groomed herself. "As soon as I leave here, I shall begin drawing up a comprehensive strategy for removing our students to a safe location--most likely, here on StarBridge Station, at least as a temporary refuge."

"Evacuate?" Rob stared at her. "Don't you think that's a bit premature, Kkintha?"

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"I agree with Rob, Administrator," Jeff said earnestly. "Hold on until we finish our survey, and then you'll know for sure whether there's genuine cause for alarm."

"I would rather have something active to do, rather than simply wait and worry," the little alien said, puffing out her cheeks, whiskers quivering. "If no evacuation is necessary, that will be wonderful, and I will gladly discard my plan." She glanced around the table, her round blue eyes anxious in her dark face. "But in the event one is needed, I will be prepared to implement my plan as soon as you give me the word. Frankly, from what I have heard today, I am beginning to fear the worst."

No one spoke for nearly a minute following the Administrator's speech. Rob swallowed and glanced around at the other faces, seeing his own

apprehension mirrored there. It was as though Kkintha ch'aait had put into words all their worst fears--and by doing so had made them concrete, real.

"Administrator ch'aait," Jeff finally said, "I can't argue that forewarned is forearmed. That's why I asked you to meet with me today. But you've got to remember that we have teams working around the clock to deal with this crisis. The initial outbreak is now contained and sealed off. Even as we speak, our engineers and technicians are vaporizing the radonium-2