“Well, I guess indirectly, yeah, there must have been. He always used to brag about it, and I guess he was right.”
“Tell me if this affected your decision to accompany him,” said Gishora.
The human was silent for a moment. “Maybe a little,” he said. “I mean, that’s how Henri got the suit and that’s how come we both figured we wouldn’t get into any big trouble. But it wasn’t like he tried to bribe me or anything.” The human looked around the room, then back at Gishora. “I went along because I thought it was a cool project. Nobody made me go.”
“You said everyone could have access to your findings. Tell me if that includes military planners and government leaders.”
“Well, yeah, I guess. They can go to Henri’s site or watch his videos like everyone else. And all our data is technically property of UNICA or whoever, so I guess the Pentagon or the PLA could see whatever they want. Henri was French, so he was plugged into the whole Euro bureaucratic-corporate-intellectual network.”
It surprised Tizhos when Gishora asked about military planners. The question seemed obviously pointless. She spoke quickly to get in a question before Gishora could continue. “Tell me what you did to prevent contact with the native beings.”
“Well, like I said, we had the stealth suit and the camouflaged drones. I just had a regular suit, so I stayed way back with the impellers and watched Henri on video through a laser link. It would have worked, too—he got right up to them without being noticed. I guess he just got cocky and waded right into a group.”
Tizhos wanted to ask about the behavior of the Ilmatarans, but Gishora cut her off. “This suit,” he asked. “I would like you to tell us more about it.”
“I don’t know a whole lot. It was Russian navy surplus, I think. Henri said his pals back in Paris got it for him and shipped it out with the last supply payload. I don’t know if they bought it right from the Russians or whether it fell off the back of a truck.”
“Confirm for me that the word ‘navy’ means a military organization,”saidGishora.
“Yeah. They sail around in ships and stuff. You know, on the ocean.”
“I do not understand why you ask these things,” Tizhos said to Gishora in their own language.
“Irona would ask them. A military force specialized for ocean warfare gave them this device, and major economic organizations stood to profit. We should not ignore this.”
“I lack your certainty. You may see connections where none exist.”
“If I fail to ask about such things, Irona’s faction will demand to know why not.”
“It sucked. Big time.” Rob flopped down on his bed. Alicia began to massage his shoulders. “You are very tense.”
“That’s no surprise. I just spent four hours getting grilled by those two, and we’re not even finished yet. They want me back tomorrow. When am I supposed to sleep?”
“The Sholen don’t sleep, why should you?”
“They don’t? Bastards.” He tugged off his shirt so that she could get at the stiff muscles better.
“What did they ask you?”
“Jesus. Everything. I told them all about what happened with me and Henri, and then they started in like a couple of six-legged lawyers drinking espresso. One of them—the boss guy—was getting totally paranoid. All kinds of insinuating little questions, like the whole thing was part of some huge conspiracy.”
“Perhaps it is just the language barrier. They don’t know how to say things politely.”
“Maybe. But I swear it sounded like they were trying to pin something on me. Like they had an agenda.”
“Robert”—she stopped kneading his neck—“I just had a horrible thought. What if you are right?”
“First time for everything.”
“No, I mean what if they have a—a mission to discredit the work we are doing here? The Sholen have always opposed our presence on Ilmatar.”
“Do a little media hit job on us? I can believe it. Dr. Sen’s been afraid of that all along, I think. Hey, you’re naked! I hadn’t noticed.”
“Stop it, not now. This is serious: if they do wish to discredit us, what can we do to stop them?”
“When my dad was doing some work for a timber company, I remember him saying the golden rule for talking to media was always have your own camera going. That way if they try any funny editing you can show the original.”
“Did that happen very often?”
“I don’t know, but they sure worried about it. Anyway, you put up your raw video on a public site right away. Even if you did something really embarrassing.”
“You should be photographing yourself when you meet with them. Did you do anything embarrassing?”
“Not really. That’s a good idea, though. In fact, let’s pass it on to Dr. Sen—put a camera on them every goddamned minute, except when they’re in the bathroom or fucking or something. Which reminds me…”
“Not yet. I don’t want to forget about it.” She used her terminal to send a note to Dr. Sen. Rob made it very difficult, but she managed.
Broadtail attacks the task of planning the expedition with enthusiasm that surprises even himself. Part of it may simply be the pleasure of having Longpincer’s vast library to consult. He skims through accounts of other scientific expeditions, taking special note of the equipment and supplies they describe. He carefully reads every bestiary and compendium of animals for mention of anything resembling the creature he is seeking.
Longpincer’s kitchen is also a luxury. Broadtail doesn’t even have to go and ask for meals. They simply appear beside him as he studies, brought by inconspicuous servants. The steady supply of food means he needs little rest, so Broadtail makes good progress, filling a whole reel with notes and lists of items to take along.
The first setback comes when Longpincer runs the reel through his feelers and stiffens with shock at the expense. “My dear fellow, I know I have a large establishment, but even I can’t arrange this many towfins. It’s more than my entire herd.”
“But cutting down the amount of supplies reduces the distance we can cover! Each member of the expedition needs one jar of food for every twenty dozen cables we travel.”
“That’s something else—the number of staff. I can understand taking along a scout and someone to tend the towfins. But six guards? A cook? Two assistants for yourself?”
“Very well,” says Broadtail. “How about just one assistant?”
“How about just going alone? I recall Narrowhead 99 Farswimmer charting the entire Deep Rifts vent system all by himself.”
“His own account refers to Narrowhead almost starving and nearly being killed by bandits and hostile landowners.”
“I think that is just his attempt to make the narrative more exciting.”
“Perhaps, but I am certain that I cannot manage alone. How many adults are you willing to send?”
Longpincer considers this. “Three. Yourself, to handle scientific matters and command the party; a skilled coldwater hunter as your guide; and a menial to tend the beast and prepare food. One towfin for supplies. That would let you travel some six thousand cables. A considerable range.”
Broadtail decides he can make do with the reduced expedition. “My plan is to search along the old rift stretching from here toward the cold shallows. I remember those strange creatures approaching from that direction, and it seems reasonable that they might follow the line of old vents along the rift.”
“Six thousand cables along the rift takes you very nearly to the cold shallows. An excellent plan. Of course, the ancient rift settlements may have old inscriptions for you to examine.”
“I recall thinking of that,” says Broadtail blandly.
“Try not to forget the purpose of the trip.” Longpincer pushes up from the floor of his study. “Very well, I approve. Now I propose we celebrate with a good meal.”