Destiny's Road Part 46

"Clever. Jeremy, anyone could find out I served time in the Windfarm, but I don't call attention to it."

"Sounds good to me."

She was still studying him. "That's right, you're a Crab shy! How on Earth did you get here at all? Fake records. What's with the knee?"

He told her. She nodded, nodded, used her keyboard. "Okay, it says you're real, and your credit is midlevel. You can buy dinner but not a restaurant."

"Can I go to the library?"

"The computers see you as a surgery patient. You can use the library while you wait for a doctor. I'll take you away from Brendan, and I can't fit you in for. . . is six hours enough? Then I'll look you over and we can talk."

Lisa Schiavo was on duty in Reception and Recovery. Jeremy watched her for a bit. "Got your computer back?"

"Winslow. How's, ah, Karen?"

"Dr. Nogales won't make any promises."

"She's good that way. I mean, I'm sorry it's bad news, but Nogales won't lie. How's the knee?"

"Dr. Nogaies wants to look it over later today. Doctor, is everyone here a doctor? Aren't there any nurses or aides or-?"

"Doctor means you're doing something to run a hospital. It's courtesy. Like in a restaurant, saying Herr'ober gets you someone who can bring you food or clean your table? It used to mean headwaiter. But patients get put on diets, so even the commissary chefs are doctors-Winslow, I've got to work."

"I'd like to wait in the library if you're not using it."

"Log on with your credit ident. Doctors get priority."

Up three floors. Lines of office doors along a corridor, all labeled, all closed. At the end of the hall, an open door.

LIBRARY.

He found a dozen comfortable chairs and five screens. One wasn't working. Four were in use. One user looked wasted: his eyes had a gla.s.sy look. Patient. Three looked healthy and busy: doctors.

Jeremy sat down and waited placidly. He'd waited twenty-seven years.

The patient nodded off; rapped his forehead on the keyboard, jerked up to see gibberish. Staggered upright and went away.

Jeremy took his place. As his fingertips touched the keyboard, Jeremy's eyes stung with tears, abruptly, unexpectedly. The home he'd lost again and again was his at last. He was back in Spiral Town, eight years old again, and it was time for school.

All right. There were things he'd always wondered about. The teaching programs never had enough to satisfy him.

CRAB.

There were hundreds of Earthlife varieties. Jeremy could pick one or two that resembled the Crab Peninsula.

OTTER.

Earthlife: a mammal, streamlined, with bristly hair. It looked nothing at all like Otterfolk.

OTTE RFOLK.

Kismet tegumentum lutrahomines, the first intelligent species ever found off Earth.

Otterfolk were curious about humans.

Cavorite's crew loved that. They ran their Road well above Otterfolk beaches for fear that those who came after would meddle. Jeremy found references to species gone extinct because they attracted human attention. But they'd done some meddling themselves.

They'd taught the Otterfolk how to cultivate Earthlife fish and crustacea, and traded them simple tools for fish. That was a success.

They'd set up a cooperative exploring team.

Reference: OTTERFOLK*EXPLORE*CLIFF SIDE.

OTTERFOLK*EXPLORE*BEACHE S.

The Otterfolle enjoy boat rides. We want to try a mixed crew.

Arundez has designed a suitable boat, a catamaran with nets we can drop to b10~k off the central well so that otterfolk can swim during a voyage.

They'd gone exploring together, along the coast and off the back side of the Crab, above and beneath the sea.

Destiny sunlight, reddened and deficient in ultraviolet, still caused skin cancers and blindness in Otterfolk.

Sea life outside Haunted Bay poisoned them. Or attacked them: there were predators worse than lungsharks.

In unfamiliar currents they followed the wrong smells and got lost.

Lower salinity hurt their skins and made them vulnerable to parasites.

To avoid bringing back a nasty skin parasite, the contact crew had euthanized ten Otterfolk and burned the boat.

EUTHANIZE.

Kill.

It bothered Jeremy, but the Biology crew had been horrified. Not just the guilt, not just the deaths. An intelligent species that couldn't explore!

To men and women who had conquered s.p.a.ce- And seen s.p.a.ce ripped from their grasp- That was obscene.

He flinched from the next entry- KAREN WINSLOW Patient records are restricted. Access code?

-relaxed, and tried- ARGOS Familiar stuff.

Half a thousand colonists had left Sol system in cold sleep, with twenty crew.

Cold-sleep techniques were two hundred years advanced beyond Avalon's time, but the major advances were diagnostic. Colonists damaged by cranial ice crystals would be, ah, euthanized. A crew member wakened during the voyage must remain thawed.

Far too many were damaged. Three hundred and sixty-six sleepers arrived, and seventy crew. Fifty sleepers chosen for skills learned in deep s.p.a.ce had been revived to deal with an emergency.

Most of the fifty had lived their lives off Earth. They'd grown up using the resources of an entire solar system. They had flown Argos across light-years to a system yet untouched. Asteroid and gas-giant mining techniques were centuries old. Their faith was in Argos and their own skills.

They'd expected the colony on Destiny to fail. Destiny's ecology, after all, would have its own agenda.

On arrival, they mutinied.

ARGO S*MUTINY*TRIAL.

The facts weren't in dispute. A trial hadn't struck him as silly when he was a boy. Base One's tribunal had found them guilty, and so what? By then the mutineers were elsewhere in the solar system. Their judges were marooned, owning two landers and whatever gear had been judged useless by an exoplanetaiy community. They were barely able to reach orbit.

ARGOS*DEBRIEF.

He'd been through these too: memoirs by crew who chose to remain with the Destiny colony. Wait, these files had more bulk than Base One's memoirs. It must include material written after Cavorite's departure. Try ARGOS*MEMOIR5: TWERDAHL.

Restricted material. Access code? No birdf.u.c.king allowed.

ARGOS*SIGHTINGS.

Ye G.o.ds! Destiny Town had an orbiting telescope!

The Cyclops telescope had gone up a hundred and ninety-one years ago. First sighting of Argos came ten years later; first verified sighting, eleven years. Argos's drive flame was not bright; Argos without it was invisible. But the Argos drive flame impacting an asteroid was brilliant and unmistakable. . . for whatever that was worth. Destiny Town could only watch. Cavorite could reach geosynchronous...o...b..t, but not the moons, not the planets, not the stars.

Cyclops telescope watched Argos establishing a base on the dumbbell-shaped asteroid called Blake, and verified that Argos had kept faith by this much: they had seeded Quicksilver with a photocollector factory.

QUICKSILVER*SUNPOWER.

In 2689, approaching two centuries after its emplacement, that first little self-reproducing factory had multiplied enough to be noticed. A bright patch was visible on the innermost planet, and a trickle of power was flowing to Destiny.

Power was also being directed toward Argos.

Today-2739-Quicksilver's sunward face was covered in silver. Along the Crab they never knew it had been different. But power flow toward Argos could no longer be detected.

Jeremy kept returning to the blueprints for the self-reproducing factory. Shape of a turtle, ma.s.s of a man, size of a small boy. There was a name for such things: what was it? A factory that could be directed to make more of itself.

Von Neumann device.

Argos's mutineers had no faith in the planetary colony. Time might have justified that to their descendants. The colony on Destiny had done little in a quarter of a millennium. Wait, hadn't he seen a file-ARGOS*SIGHTINGS Yes. The last sighting of Argos in flight was in 2680, fifty-nine years ago. And the flow of power from Quicksilver had stopped.

Did Argos's crew still have descendants?

SPECKLES (FATUM VENTUSI HERBAAE).

The list of entries ran on and on. What on Earth was SPECKLES, see also Fatum mortem parnelli FATUM MORTEM PARNELLI Destiny krill is a multicelled microscopic life-form that uses photosynthesis, but swims free.

E~en on Earth there were organisms that crossed the line between plant and animal.

F. mortem parnelli lives in every part 0f the ocean thus far explored. It is clearly 0f the speckles family (Fatum ventusi herbaae), though speckles is entirely a plant.

May one speculate? Future archeologists will find the f055~l record of a krill eater-one pictures a Destiny blue whale with sh.e.l.l and sh.e.l.lcap-.__that plowed th~5 world's seas until M. parnelli learned to secrete deadly metals. The krill poisoned them to extinction. Later a Mortem variation evolved on land.

The crucial point here is that Destiny lzrill secretes pota.s.sium.

When it dies it sinks to the bottom 0f the sea. There the pota.s.sium remains. After billions 0f years 0f that, we find no pota.s.sium in Destiny sea salt, and that is ~ we will die.

-Wayne Parnelli, Marine Biology Fatum mortem, he'd called it. Destiny's death. Scared the h.e.l.l of out him, did it?

Jeremy had wondered. . . every child wondered. . . why A rgos came to Destiny without the means to keep settlers alive. How could the ancient wizards of Sol system have been so stupid? But if oceans on Earth had all the pota.s.sium they needed...

Jeremy almost laughed. That must have been a nasty shock.

Look up speckles, but there were so many files. Be selective.

Search: SPECKLE S*FARM.

A line of sporadic volcanoes four hundred klicks long. Tornadoes.

Metals. . . pota.s.sium refining.. . speckles. . . thorn trees and thorn weeds, ground-hugging animals and windbirds, a varied and intricate ecology evolved within the Winds, each new species needing cla.s.sification and further study.

And: If speckles can be farmed elsewhere, we must ~t~l1 extract pota.s.sium to feed it. Why bother? We'll grow it here.

Cavorite's course matched his guesses, but what had Brenda meant?

They did more than that. More than refine pota.s.sium, then discover and cultivate speckles, in an endless howling storm full of thorn birds? Then race home. . .

SPECKLES*TWERDAHL*BASE ONE.

He read on, while afternoon darkened to evening.

Base One had delayed Cavorite's departure, had afflicted them with a long list of projects, had repeatedly tried to cancel the expedition. The first settlers had not perceived any need for haste.

A nasty shock, as Jeremy had guessed, following the nasty shock of Argos's betrayal. Base One was in denial.

But, though sea salt would not sustain Base One, Earthlife animals made nerves too. They were good at secreting pota.s.sium. Ancient kings had learned to confiscate manure piles at the first sign of war, for nuggets of saltpeter to grind up for gunpowder. But saltpeter-pota.s.sium nitrate-could also be ground into food.

So Cavorite drifted down the coast at a snail's pace, leaving a snail's trail of molten rock. They would fulfill all of their mission: seed Earthlife wherever they went, pause to sample local life, look for places a village might thrive, investigate signs of what might be intelligence. Let the ungrateful b.a.s.t.a.r.ds wait and wonder. Cavorite's crew could take their time.

In due time Cavorite returned to Base One emptied of Earthlife seeds and infant animals, and loaded with samples of rock and Destiny life, maps, refined pota.s.sium and speckles.

What had gone wrong at Base One?

They found plumbing redirected to sterilize sewage with heat, then vent it above croplands. That would have done the job, if the job had been more than ten percent finished! Maybe they were stopped by the stench.

Livestock implied manure. Manure had even been raked into heaps, but the heaps lay untouched. n.o.body had picked through them for saltpeter. Then again, there wasn't much. Pota.s.sium must first be put into fertilizer to feed the gra.s.s! Gra.s.s didn't make nerves.

As their intelligence dropped, had they forgotten what was at stake? Cavorite's crew might speculate, but there was n.o.body to ask.