“What does the observation team do?” Wilson asked.
“We have to know the topology of the weather patterns,” Samantha said. “We need to plot the morning stormfronts exactly as they come around Mount Herculaneum, then we need to see what effect our manipulators are having so we can direct the damn thing properly. It’s going to be tricky enough for the control group without working half blind.”
“Satellite imagery?” Anna said.
“No satellites here,” Wilson said. “I remember talking to the Institute director a while back. Got a personal update on infrastructure.” He grinned distantly.
Samantha gave him a very interested look. “Right. Which is why we need someone on Aphrodite’s Seat. From there you can see right to the eastern end of the Dessault range. It’s also a perfect com relay point; no more crapping short wave.”
“But they’re not going to get there in time,” Adam said. That arithmetic wasn’t difficult at all.
“Trust me, we’re kicking their asses as much as we can over the radio. Not that we can say much without drawing too much attention. If anyone can do it, they will.”
“Isn’t there any other way up there?” Wilson asked. “What about flying? There must be some aircraft on Far Away.”
“Aphrodite’s Seat is above the atmosphere. In any case, nobody goes flying planes around the Grand Triad, not with the winds that hit them from the ocean.”
“I thought tourists flew over it,” Oscar said.
“Sure do,” Samantha said. “Rich morons try and catch the winds so they can glide over it. The lucky ones make it to the far side. Not onto the peak.”
“The right parabola could get you there,” Wilson said thoughtfully.
“And you know how to do that?” Samantha asked scornfully.
Wilson leaned forward with a menacing smile that shut down her attitude. Adam could see what an unfair contest it was: a young Samantha who cheerfully bossed around a team of freedom fighters and the Admiral, an exfighter pilot who had captained the Second Chance, then went on to command the navy.
“I’m the only human being ever to have flown on Mars,” he told her equitably. “I aerobraked a spaceplane from a two-hundred-kilometer orbit and landed on a designated site the size of a tennis court. How about you?”
“Shit! You’re dicking with me, pal.”
“Wilson.” Oscar was tugging at his arm. “Come on, man, that was over three hundred years ago. And that plane had rocket engines to help you steer, these gliders don’t.”
“That kind of flying is not something you forget or erase,” Wilson said. “Besides, the tour companies here must have skill memory implants.”
“Well, yeah,” an astounded Samantha said. “But, come on! Landing on the summit of Mount Herculaneum? Are you serious?”
“Yes, are you?” Adam asked. As soon as Wilson suggested it, Adam had begun sketching out consequences and opportunities. Even if there was only the slightest chance of success they had to make the effort. It wasn’t going well on Highway One, and the superstorm wouldn’t happen unless the control group was fully functional. After everything they’d gone through, the sacrifices they’d endured to get the Martian data here, he couldn’t bear the idea of it not having its chance.
“You’ll need a lot of electrical gear,” Samantha said. “We need high resolution panoramic vision and clear relay channels. I haven’t got anything like that here.”
Wilson tapped her ancient array. “The electronics we’re carrying are a lot better than anything of yours I’ve seen so far, no offense.”
“First things first,” Adam said. “Can we reach the gliders which the tourists use in time to get up there before the Starflyer arrives at the Institute?”
Samantha sucked in a long breath. “It’ll be tight, pal. You’ll need to get the hyperglider tethered down in Stakeout Canyon tomorrow night to catch the morning storm. The travel companies hangar them at Stonewave, that’s on the wet desert west of the Aldrin Plains. You’ll have to burn some gas to get there in time, tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”
Adam pulled the map out of his virtual vision grid, tracing the northern edge of the Dessault range to the west until he found the town. She was right, it was a long way, much farther than Wolfstail. “Can it be done?” he asked.
“Yeah, maybe. There’s a track wedged in between the foothills and the top of the grasslands. You use that and you don’t have to drive through the crapping Anguilla grass. It’ll take you around Herculaneum and out on the north side of Mount Zeus. Stonewave is a straight line north from there.”
Adam turned his attention back to the trucks. “We’ll unhitch the trailers from the cabs. We’ll make much better time without them.”
“You’ll need to, pal. Believe me when I say you do not want to be caught anywhere near Herculaneum tomorrow morning after the storm comes in from the ocean. If you’re going to live, never mind fly, you have to get into the lee of Zeus before sunrise.”
“Thanks.”
She gazed at Wilson. “You really going to do this?”
“We’re really going to do this,” Oscar said.
“Huh?” Wilson gave him a startled look.
“You heard,” Anna said. “We all know how to fly; that’s one up on most of the tourists crazy enough to try this. And with three of us, there’ll be a better chance that someone will survive to smash down on the top of the mountain.”
“You mean glide gently to a soft halt,” Oscar said.
“I know what I mean.”
Wilson put his arm around her. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” She stroked his cheek tenderly. “You still owe me a honeymoon.”
“This trip isn’t good enough?”
She kissed him, her eyes shining. “Not yet.”
“Dreaming heavens,” Samantha said. “I don’t doubt you could do this, but…the sabotage. I can’t risk it.”
“Yes, you can,” Wilson said. “Assume the worst, if the saboteur is the only one of us who makes it to the top and doesn’t relay the observation data you need, how will that make it worse than it is right now?”
Samantha gave him a desperate look; her gaze slipped over to Adam. It was obvious she didn’t want the decision. “All right,” she said grudgingly. “I guess there’s not much to lose.”
Wilson gave her a curt nod, still in command. “We’ll need your exact observation requirements, and the communications specs so we can modify our equipment. Do Rosamund and the rest know the route to Stonewave?”
“Pretty much. The tourist companies use the route along the side of the foothills to chase after their hypergliders, so it’s pretty well marked out.”
Adam caught up with Oscar as the trailers were being unhitched from the Volvo cabs. Almost all of the crates had been unloaded. The truck to Zuggenhim Ridge had already left. Samantha was going to take a jeep and follow it, once she and another Guardian called Valentine had finished briefing Wilson and Jamas on the technical details of the observation. They were going to spend the trip to Stonewave modifying their arrays to duplicate the performance of the equipment that the original observation team carried.
“I’m glad you volunteered,” Adam said.
“I wasn’t about to let Wilson go and—” His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”
“Because I’m only going to allow you to fly.”
“What!” Oscar hunched down instinctively, checking to see if anyone was looking. “What are you talking about?” he asked in a low voice.
“You think Wilson and Anna are suddenly in the clear because they offered to do this?”
“Well…” Oscar rubbed a hand hard across his forehead. “Oh, Christ.”
“Assume one of them is the traitor, and they make it to the top. The whole planet’s revenge project is dependent on that observation.” Adam slapped his hands together vigorously. “They’ve fucked us. Bang, it’s over. Starflyer makes it back to the Marie Celeste and leaves.”