“Yes, but that’s only part of it. Right now, all the products that require fossil fuels must be made on Earth. That means that all those products also entail immense shipping costs: the further out they must go, the worse it gets. So-”
“So you plan on building all those industries here on Dee Pee Three.”
“Exactly. Plastics manufacturing, pharmaceuticals, lubricant refineries-”
Over her shoulder, Caine saw a collage of the fuchsia and indigo blooms. She’s foretelling your extinction. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” commented the robber-baroness as she burned the flowers to ashes and soot…
“Now do you see?”
“Sure: Dee Pee Three becomes a new industrial hub. Perfectly placed, too: most of our colonies would be within three shifts of your products.”
“Precisely. Call it corporate greed if you like, Mr. Riordan, but the more quickly we can develop the oil reserves here, the faster and further humanity can expand into interstellar space.”
Oh, so this is your selfless contribution to the glorious future of homo sapiens? I mustn’t laugh…so change topic: “Look, I also need to ask about these reports of a possibly intelligent species. Navy thermal imaging detected nocturnal activity, which is highly suggestive of coherent group movement. Significantly, the movement also suggests bipedal physiology. There are also reports that dressed stone has been found.”
“And what does that have to do with anything?”
“There are those who feel that CoDevCo replaced the Navy survey with one of their own in an attempt to cover up possible environmental obstacles to just this kind of resource exploitation.”
“Oh, so even on other planets, the energy companies are still suspected of ruining habitats, exterminating indigenous species-even intelligent ones?”
“Well, why else would you ignore the Navy survey? That was pretty much a slap in the face to both the Commonwealth and the original EU policy-makers, who assessed the thoroughness of the survey, and voted to accept it. Personally, I’m guessing that the stakes here on Dee Pee Three must be pretty high if CoDevCo is willing to risk that kind of political friction and insult.”
“Well, the stakes certainly are high. However, our operations here haven’t involved any environmental abuse-but you won’t believe me until you’ve seen the evidence with your own eyes.” She crooked a finger. “Follow me.”
And watching her from behind, Caine locked his teeth gently, acknowledging that, despite whom and what she was, a large and libidinal part of him was quite willing to follow her anywhere.
She stopped where the valley floor began its transition into a steep-sided mountain. As Caine approached, she pointed along the leeward base of a granite outcropping. A five-meter line of regular stones-almost invisible in the mossy ground-paralleled the stony tendril of the mountain at a distance of one meter. She smiled. “There’s what we were hiding.”
He looked. “That?”
She smiled more widely. “That, and about three or four others we’ve found like it. Is it an artifact of intelligent life? Unquestionably. But that’s all we’ve got. We haven’t seen any current evidence of a sapient species that could build this. In fact, these are the only such signs we’ve found whatsoever.”
“Have you dated the stones?”
“Not exactly the kind of equipment we carry, and if we had asked for it, there was always the chance that someone would ask why we wanted it. I understand it’s a find of some significance-”
Some significance? Could balance sheets really blind her-or anyone-to the immense implications of it?
“-but we’re being careful not to disturb the sites, and it’s not as though they’re going to disappear. I realize the research they will stimulate is important, but how urgent can it be?” She smiled. “Judging from ruins I saw when I was growing up, I’d say we’re at least ten thousand years too late for the matter to be ‘urgent’ in any practical sense.”
He knew she was watching him carefully behind her vaguely coquettish stare. So Caine made sure that he appeared to be trying to keep his face expressionless-as if he were attempting to suppress disappointment. After a moment, she looked away, evidently satisfied with what she thought she had seen. “Ready to go?”
He nodded, turned without a word, heard her fall in behind him.
As they got near the Rover, he swayed forward slightly, stretched out an arm, caught and steadied himself against the hood.
She was at his side-surprisingly swift-and did not miss the opportunity to put a solicitous hand on his left bicep. “Are you quite well?”
“Yeah. I just feel-a bit faint. The heat-I think.”
“Well, we can always do this another time.”
“No-no, I’ll be okay.”
She looked at him closely. “Very well, but I think we should end early today. Finish up with a visit to the executive pool. It’s wonderfully cool. Soothing.”
Caine looked at her. “That sounds-appealing.”
She nodded slowly, her eyes constantly on his. “It’s a great way to relax, to release the stress.”
“I suppose it is.” He straightened up. “But that’s for later: what’s next on our agenda?”
“Our own downport-and thanks for reminding me.” She reached into the Rover for the radio, sharply informed whoever answered that she’d be there with the V.I.P. in about twenty minutes, and signed off without a goodbye. She turned a sweeter-than-candy smile on Caine and resumed her review of their schedule: “After the downport, we’ll see the workers’ compound, including the fee-free clinic; our survey command center; and one of our weather-monitoring stations. And then, a quick dip. Before drinks and dinner.”
Caine smiled, nodded, thought: that agenda is one item short of what Helger promised-and one item short of what I really want to see. “Great, but what happened to my visit with the EU’s Deputy Administrator, Ms. Fireau?” Who might not be very happy with the current state of affairs here. Fireau had been in charge before Helger-and the consequent deluge of CoDevCo money, personnel, and influence.
Consuela leaned her arms on the Rover’s hood, adopting a posture that provided a half-obstructed view of her cleavage. She pouted and smiled at the same time: “I’m sorry, I thought Louis sent you word: Ms. Fireau had to fly back to Little Leyden today. Business emergency, I’m afraid.”
Naturally. “When did she leave?”
“Just a few minutes ago. That must have been her vertibird that went over us earlier: we don’t send out a lot of VTOL traffic.”
Okay, so there it was: Helger’s ploy of using Consuela as a subtly salacious species of flypaper had already impeded him and his investigation. It was a shame to miss Fireau, but Caine hadn’t expected Helger to permit a meeting with her. He elected to look surprised, then sound annoyed: “When will Ms. Fireau return?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Riordan. I don’t know.”
Shall I tell you? Just as soon as I’m airborne back for Downport, Ms. Fireau will be on a plane back here. That way, I can’t interview her back in Little Leyden, either.
“And that’s it? That’s our day-trip?”
“That’s it. Why? Was there something else you wanted to see?”
He didn’t hear a probe, but he was sure it was there. She called ahead right before we came here, and she just called ahead to our next stop. She’s calling ahead with a warning everyplace we go. I’ll never get an honest look at anything, particularly what I want to see the most: that big dig to the north. That doesn’t look like oil wells to me. But I can’t let her take me there, can’t even let her know I’m interested in it, or that I noticed. So here’s a bone for you to chase later on, Consuela: “I was hoping to see the river, further downstream: I hear you’ve got some aquaculture experiments going on there?”