Thunderbird (12 page)

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Authors: Jack McDevitt

BOOK: Thunderbird
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The temperature was rising. They'd gone about two miles when April called a halt. “Okay, everybody,” she said. “It looks as if it's going to get warmer than it was last time we were here. Let's get out of the sun.” They left the beach and went into the forest. That forced them to climb through shrubbery, but the cooler air was welcome.

•   •   •

T
HE
C
UPOLA
WAS
the only structure in the area. Other than that, Brad could see nothing but forest and ocean. The shoreline was a long collection of gently rolling hills. At home, given the summer weather, the area would have been filled with villas and châteaus, and the ocean would have been covered with boats.

The ground was uneven, and the grass was thick, so they were moving more slowly than they had been on the sand. Eden had insects,
including some that resembled spiders. But none seemed interested in biting. Fruit in a wide variety of colors hung from the trees. The red ones especially looked juicy.

They came to a stream and decided to take a break. “I wonder,” said Chris, “if they had dinosaurs here? It would be interesting to get a history of this place.”

“Or maybe have them
now
?” said Brad. “There's an uncomfortable thought.”

“I'm not suggesting we do anything that would cause any damage. But having a second living world to study? It opens up all kinds of opportunities.”

Brad watched another turtle stroll past. “Just like home,” Chris said.

Jennie nodded. “It wouldn't surprise me to find a lot of animals with similarities to Earth life. This place has the same kind of environment.”

“The big question for me,” said Abe, “is the Cupola. Who put it there? And the Roundhouse?”

Cornelius didn't like the occasional sunlight, so he covered his eyes. The sunglasses weren't quite enough. “Little green men did it,” he said. Then, changing tone: “Hang on. We should get an answer soon.” He looked out through the trees at the ocean. “I keep expecting to see a ship or maybe a plane coming in from somewhere.”

It got warmer as the sun moved across the sky.

They passed a large, fallen tree. A broken branch had been laid across it. “This is as far as we got last time,” said April. “From here on, we're in unknown territory.”

•   •   •

T
HE
SUN
WAS
sinking into the hills as they arrived at the edge of another stream. “Why don't we stop for the night?” said John. “This would be a good spot.”

April looked around. “That okay with everybody?”

“I'll be glad to get off my feet for a while,” said Jeff, leaning back against a tree.

“How much farther will we go tomorrow?” asked Chris.

“Probably another four hours. Then, if we don't see anything, we'll go back. But by a different route.”

They unrolled their sleeping bags and made themselves comfortable. Except John. “I'm going to take a quick look around,” he said, “before we settle in. Anybody want to come along?”

Abe was sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees. He looked tired, but he surprised Brad. “Yeah. I'm with you.”

“Good. Let's go.”

It was time for Brad to play his role and show some energy. “I'll go along, too, if it's okay.” John would make a perfect guest for
Grand Forks Live
. So far he'd only been thinking in terms of the scientists. But a security guy, if he was asked the right questions, could be a pretty interesting interview.

John told April they'd be back in about twenty minutes. Then they set off along the stream, following it inland and gradually uphill until their way forward appeared blocked by some heavy shrubbery. But John pushed through the bushes, finding a narrow strip of rock to walk on. Brad followed and was just getting back into the clear when Abe stopped. “Look!” he said.

A fish. It could easily have been a trout. They watched it swim past, headed downstream. It was quickly followed by several more. Abe, trying simultaneously to get hold of his camera and balance himself, dropped it into the water. “Damn!” he said.

Abe would have fallen in himself while trying to retrieve the camera had Brad not gotten hold of him. But he wavered on the edge of the rock. “I want to get the camera back. It's got some great pictures.”

“Is it waterproof?” Brad asked.

“I don't know. I doubt it.”

“Maybe you can save the memory card,” said John.

Abe indicated Brad should let him go. He jumped in, got the camera, waded upstream a few steps, and climbed out. “Not very good planning, I guess,” he said.

•   •   •

T
HEY
FOLLOWED
THE
stream around a bend and arrived at a waterfall. If you could call it that. It was only about six feet high. “I don't think we're going to see much here,” said John. The trees were getting thicker and moving through the shrubbery was becoming a serious challenge.

There was no trail or path of any kind. The stream narrowed down to a few feet. And they came out onto a trail. Directly ahead, they saw a wooden bridge.

FOURTEEN

Curiosity is one of the permanent and certain characteristics of a vigorous intellect.

—Samuel Johnson,
The Rambler
, March 12, 1751

P
AULA
F
RANCISCO
HAD
been blown away when the tribe originally accepted her application to join the Johnson's Ridge security force. She had a passion for science, especially for astronomy, and she'd wasted no time taking advantage of the opportunity to get involved in the force that would be protecting the Roundhouse. She was a natural for the assignment. She'd spent two years with the county police after having been forced to leave college as a sophomore because of the overwhelming cost of tuition.

She would have preferred to go exploring with John and the others, but somebody had to stay at the Cupola. It took a lot of the joy out of the assignment. At least, she thought, she could get out and walk around a little. She checked to make sure she was wearing her specialized gloves. Didn't want to get locked out. Then she went out to look around. She strolled through the forest, wandered onto the beach, took a call from John informing her everything was okay. Finally she returned to the Cupola, took one of the Sioux chairs outside, and made herself comfortable.

The forest was different from anything she'd seen before. Enormous blossoms hung from trees that looked half-human, like people who had defied the gods and taken root. Occasional wind gusts moved the branches.

She'd expected more. If she closed her eyes, she could easily have been back on Earth. The rumbling tide, the squawking birds, the dead shells scattered near the surf line. The only thing that was missing was a Pizza Hut. And that probably wouldn't be long delayed, once the tribe began selling tickets to tourists.

She wasn't used to so much sunlight. Eventually, she went back inside, where a cooling system controlled the temperature. Somebody had left a couple of books on one of the tables, but they were spy thrillers. When they got home, she'd recommend a TV be installed in the place.

John checked in with her again. Still nothing going on. They'd abandoned the beach and sought protection from the sun in the trees.

She'd become bored. And she was having a problem. Paula could not get out of her mind the look on the faces of Boots Coleman and April when they'd returned from the Strike mission. Now it was pretty obvious that the tribe would not be going back. At least not anytime soon. Though that decision hadn't been formally announced, she had no doubt it had been made. Chairman Walker had been unable to hide his shock at the time. She would have given anything to have been with April and Boots when they opened that door and looked out on the alien city. Now, she would never get the chance. The order had come down from the chairman's office: Nobody was to use the parallel-lines link under any circumstances. Or the other link, the octagon, whose destination remained a mystery. Or any other link not formally approved. Her responsibility as a security escort was to enforce the directive.

She had less than an hour left before her relief would arrive. That would be George.

She went inside the Cupola and stared at the icons. She went over to the post that contained them and waved her hand in front of the parallel lines, the way one does with a movement detector in a washroom. It lit up,
and she shivered. But the luminous cloud that actually seemed to do the transporting didn't appear. That was probably because she hadn't
pressed
the icon.

She wanted to see the city.

The icon blinked off.

Her radio sounded. “Hi, Paula. How's it going?”

“Okay, John. Just trying to stay awake.”

“I have some news.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yes. But be alert. We found a
bridge
.”

“A bridge? Really? What kind of bridge?”

“It's pretty primitive. It's built across a stream. So there's
somebody
here. Don't go to sleep.”

“I won't.”

“And don't forget to pass it on to George when he gets there.” That would be George Freewater.

“Okay.”

“Tell him I'll keep him informed. We're all going over now to take a look. Before it gets too dark.”

•   •   •

P
AULA
HAD
ALWAYS
played by the rules. She'd never been in trouble during her school years. Had received only one traffic ticket in her entire life. Had performed her policing duties by the book. But she really wanted to see the city by the river. She could go take a look, probably without any real chance of anyone's ever finding out about it.

The downside was that if she found something especially exciting, she might not be able to keep quiet about it. But if she had to compromise herself, so be it. And if she didn't make the effort, it would be something she'd regret the rest of her life.

She stared at the three parallel lines.

Okay. She'd take her rifle. Just in case.

She stood for a minute, giving herself a chance to back away. But she wasn't going to do that. So: Take a deep breath. She climbed onto the grid, checked that her flashlight was still on her belt, and touched the three lines. They lit up.

She fought down a sudden inclination to jump off.

Stay. Don't move. The first glimmers of light appeared around her. They grew more luminous. Her heart was pounding. And the Cupola interior began to fade.

The light dimmed to a gentle luminescence, faded out, and the world went dark. She was on another grid, but she was inside a large chamber filled with shadowy objects. She turned on her lamp. Her immediate surroundings had a luxurious ambience. A wall stopped well below the ceiling. And enclosed her on only three sides. The fourth side opened onto a vast space whose darkness was interrupted by occasional dim lights. Framed landscapes hung on the wall. Three armchairs and a couch that could have been leather were placed around the grid. And two tables held lamps with purple shades. They were turned off.

She took a moment to find the icon that would take her back to Eden. The arrow. Then she examined the eleven other images done in a style similar to those in the Cupola.

Good so far.

The chairs and tables were too small to accommodate her. She walked over to the couch, reached down, and touched the seat. It was firm and inviting.

The landscapes included a view of a dark ocean from an escarpment. And a surprise: a depiction apparently of Saturn with its rings rising out of an ocean. And another surprise: a desert with a pyramid in the background.

They were beautiful. She thought about taking one back with her. But how would she explain it? If the chairman found out what she'd done, she'd be fired. Disgraced.

The lights outside her immediate area were distributed among glass
cases and tables. She could see a small aircraft, a boat, a circular structure that might have been a satellite of some sort except that it had a comfortable-looking interior that resembled someone's living room. There was also something that might have been the interior of a car. The place looked like a museum.

The building was silent. She wandered through it. The artifacts, if that's what they were, were mostly unlike anything she'd seen before. The plane had jets, but the wings didn't look big enough to support it in flight. The boat had a cabin, but there was neither a mast nor a propeller. An array of what appeared to be electronic devices occupied display cases.

A window looked out across a river. And she also had a view of the city, which occupied both banks. The sky was full of stars and a multitude of lights. Some were moving. Some were connected to buildings. For a few moments, she had trouble catching her breath. The museum was located near the edge of the river, immediately off a walkway. Two benches stood near the water for anyone who just wanted to relax and enjoy the view.

A large moon floated on the horizon, but of course it wasn't Earth's moon.

Where was she?

Something passed overhead. It was drifting slowly and, as she watched, it dipped down close to the water. It was getting smaller, crossed the river, and disappeared among the myriad of lights on the other side.

Domes, towers, complex structures all rose high into the sky. Bridges connected many of them. And aircraft, like the one that had just passed, moved between and above them. But the aircraft were moving too slowly to stay aloft.

She found a door to the outside, but it wouldn't open. The museum had several enclosures as large as the one in which she'd arrived, and a lot of windows. Clustered among the skyscrapers were a few small structures that might have been private dwellings. One was especially close, an A-frame variation, two stories high. Its windows were lit, but curtains were drawn.

Overhead, a quarter moon floated among the stars. The museum looked out across a park, where a fountain sparkled in the light. It was surrounded by more benches. Most of them were occupied. But not by
people
. They were bipeds, with moderately dark skin, but too small to be human. And there was something different about their features, about the way they moved. She wished she'd brought binoculars.

She looked at her watch. Better get back to Eden. She was supposed to be on duty, and hanging out here was putting people at risk. She wondered if the museum housed a security system. Was anyone watching her at that moment?

She hurried back, hoping she hadn't forgotten where the grid was located. But she heard voices outside the building and stopped by a window. They sounded like children, approaching on the walkway. After a minute they came into view, and she saw they
were
children. Except, of course, not human. Their eyes were too large. And they seemed too muscular for kids. Despite the alien appearance, they looked extraordinarily good. Two handsome boys, two beautiful girls.

They were watching the traffic on the river. One was pointing at a boat. It didn't have sails, and Paula couldn't hear an engine, but something was driving it. They all started laughing though she had no idea why. She stayed back in the dark, not moving, watching them pass.

Music was coming from the boat. A stringed instrument. It could have been a violin. And someone was singing. The voice sounded almost normal. She watched as it went past. Silver hull, blue cabin. Somebody, some
thing
, at the wheel. Except for the music, it proceeded silently, leaving a widening wake. Three occupants were seated in the after section. None of them seemed to be providing the voice or the music.

The children on the walkway passed, as did the boat, going in opposite directions. Then she heard more voices. Adults this time. It sounded as if they were all talking and laughing. From a distance, they almost looked like ordinary people, dressed in pants and pullovers. She counted nine of them, of both sexes. It was unlikely any were as tall as she was.
Her first thought was that there was a medical issue of some sort, but they moved smoothly and gracefully.

Their heads seemed oddly shaped, narrower and longer than human heads. Their throats were longer, noses sharper. She watched them pass, impressed again by their almost classic features despite the alien quality. They were
almost
human. Somehow, the design had just missed. When they were gone, she hurried back to the transport station. She got on the grid and was about to activate the arrow when the other icons caught her attention. Not that she considered trying another one, but she wondered how large this transport network was? How many destinations were available?

Okay. Time to go home. She put her fingertips atop the arrow and pressed. After a half minute, it lit up. Within a few seconds, the luminous cloud appeared and wrapped her in its embrace.

Moments later, she was back on Eden.

•   •   •

S
HE
WAS
FEELING
lucky. The only other working icon at the Cupola was supposed to be the octagon. It looked inviting, and she was on a roll. It had been a few scary moments in the world with the river, wherever it was.
Riverwalk,
she thought. Scary, yes. But she had never felt more ecstatic. There was no way she could resist this other one. This time, though, she'd be more careful. No walking around and inviting trouble. Just take a quick look, see where she was, and come back. Paula got up on the grid, adjusted her rifle strap, put her fingertips on the post, and pressed the octagon image. It lit up. She waited, counting the seconds until the glowing cloud began to form. Then she said a prayer and took a deep breath.

The interior of the Cupola lost definition, and suddenly she was underwater. The reflexive action of holding her breath probably saved her life. At least for the moment. Where was the arrow?

Don't panic. It was dark, but she was still standing on the grid. Or actually she was holding on to something and trying to keep her feet planted on it. She reached directly ahead with her free hand and touched the wall. But
she couldn't see any icons. Not enough light. She pushed off and made for the surface. And collided with a ceiling.

My God. She let go of her rifle and slammed her hands against the overhead, and then moved across it, feeling desperately for an opening.

There had to be one somewhere.

She fumbled at her belt, got her flashlight, and pressed the button.
It worked.
But she saw no break above her, brought the light down, and aimed it at the murky walls. Her heart was pounding. The light moved across a door on the other side of the room. She swam to it, found a pad and pushed it. The door opened, revealing a corridor, but it, too, was submerged.

She was running out of air.

Her instincts screamed at her:
Get the hell out of there. Swim for it. Down the passageway. It's your only chance.
But do that and if she got out, she might not be able to get back to the grid. And it wouldn't take long for the water to get into the flashlight. Without that, she wouldn't even be able to find the arrow icon.

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