They flew over rooftops and past illuminated buildings. The architecture had a more liquid flow than cities at home. Maybe it was because she was passing overhead at night, but everything seemed rounded, curved, peeling away into the dark. She picked out the broadest, busiest street she could find and led them there. They moved in just above the traffic, drawing the startled attention of pedestrians.
The creatures resembled hobgoblins. They were small, barely half her height, with slick gray skin, enormous eyes set back where a human’s temples would have been, and thick limbs. There was a lack of definition about them, no jawline, no clearly defined throat, no ears. She tried to persuade herself they were not really repulsive, but her instincts responded differently.
She came to a full stop in front of a transit vehicle, a bus, just starting a turn. The bus jammed on its brakes, and the creatures inside lurched toward the front.
Matt pulled in behind her, back about twenty meters, and the landers simply floated in midair, defying gravity.
A truck banged into a car.
Something jangled. How about that? They even had horns.
Everything was coming to a dead stop.
“Okay, Matt,” she said, “let’s move on.”
They cruised around the city, creating mayhem. “What would your Academy people have said about this?” asked Matt, as they floated over a broad avenue.
“They wouldn’t have approved.”
“It’s in a good cause.”
“I know. It wouldn’t have mattered.”
“Who would have denied permission?”
“I would.”
Phyl broke in: “You’ve made the newscasts.”
“What are they saying?”
“‘Unknown objects create havoc in Baltimore.’ ‘Airborne objects float over Baker Street.’ ‘Apparitions cause traffic jam.’”
“You’re making up the proper nouns.”
“I have to.”
“At least you could have picked a West Coast city.”
“I’ll try to get it right next time, Ms. Hutchins.”
“You think that’ll do it?” asked Matt.
“That should be sufficient. Let’s go home.”
Mr. Smith picked up on the first ring. “Was that you in Seattle last night?”
Phyl had apparently taken the hint. “Yes. That was us.”
“All right. You made your point. I’ll talk to you.”
“How do we find you?”
“I live on the outskirts of Denver.”
“Describe the place. We have no familiarity with your world other than what we can see.”
“It’s on the same continent as Seattle. Proceed—” Here the translation garbled.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Smith. We don’t understand your directional terms.”
“Proceed toward the sunrise. Two-thirds of the distance across the continent. And a little bit down—”
“Pardon me. Which way is down?”
Pause. “Toward the (something)—”
“Are you referring to the line around the center of the planet? Probably the hottest area?”
“Yes.”
And so it went. It took a while, but they figured it out. Look for a wide river. Follow the river in the direction of the equator. Pass a city in which the tallest building is shaped, at the top, like a needle. Beyond, east of the city, the river forks. Follow the side that angles back in the direction of Seattle. Find a smaller city nearby. On the far side of the city—
Here, Hutch interrupted him: “Is it remote? Do you have neighbors?”
“Yes.”
“Can you suggest a place where we could have some privacy?”
“Not anyplace that might have a runway.”
“We don’t need a runway.”
“Oh, yes. I forgot.”
“Well?”
“I think I can arrange something.”
Matt wanted to go down with the mission. “It’s my turn,” he persisted.
This was a big moment, and he intended to be there when it happened. He didn’t say that, but she knew that was the point. And he also probably thought that if trouble developed—after all, who knew what would really be waiting for them?—it would be better for all if he were there. Hutch, after all, wasn’t young, and she was also a woman.
“Okay, Matt. It’s all yours. You’ll be taking both Antonio and Rudy with you. How about Jon?”
“Of course,” Jon said. “I wouldn’t miss this.”
“Be careful,” she told Matt. “Keep the circuits open. And use Mac’s lander.”
“Sure. But what difference does it make?”
“If I have to come after you, I won’t want to spend time chasing down a lander.”
“I don’t think you’re going to have to come bail us out.”
“Neither do I. But we should consider the possibility that this might not turn out the way we want it to.”
“Okay. I can’t argue with that.”
“You’ll have weapons with you?”
“Of course.”
“There’s something else we might set up. As a precaution.”
“What’s that?”
“Your lander doesn’t have a mounted projector, does it?”
“No.”
“Neither does ours. Okay, Matt, I want you to pull a projector from storage. If you don’t have one, use the one from the VR tank.”
“To do what?”
“Put it on the hull. And there’s a sequence from Battle Cry that I want you to have available.”
“From what?”
“From Battle Cry. It’s probably in your library. Doesn’t matter, though. I’ll send it over. Just in case.”
“You worry too much, Hutch.”
Biggest day of my life…
Chapter 26
Mr. Smith had access to a lodge in an isolated area. It was located on a lakefront amid dense forest and low, rolling hills. Matt descended until the glare from a distant city had disappeared below the horizon, and the world grew dark. There were few artificial lights in evidence, a couple off to the west, another on a hilltop below him, and a campfire a kilometer or two to the north.
They’d been directed to watch for the lake, a long narrow curving body of water, of which the northern tip arced east, and the southern, west. It had surprised Matt how difficult it was to describe the shape when the two speakers had no common images. No letter ‘S.’ No way to determine what serpentine meant. And no way to measure distance. How long was a kilometer? It was the distance Matt could walk in about twelve minutes, but how long would Mr. Smith need?
It would have helped if visual communication had been possible. The satellites that had been placed around the Orion Arm by Mr. Smith’s ancestors transmitted both audio and visual signals. But, unless there was more going on here than Smith knew, the visual component was lost.