He broke into a storage building, found an office, and planted one of Kellie’s pickups. He got it up on a shelf, between vases, where it seemed relatively safe. The truth was that none of these devices could really be hidden. Later, when the shipment they’d been promised from Broadside showed up, they’d be working with units not much bigger than coins.
He hid the third pickup in a tree near a meat shop. And the fourth in a park, aimed at a couple of benches.
Two blocks away, there were buildings whose architecture had been taken seriously and which were therefore probably either public or religious. Or both.
Several of them had signs outside. The signs contained some hand-drawn pictures, of Goompahs, and of a boat, and, on another, of a torch. There was writing on all of them, delicate, slender characters that reminded him of Arabic.
He took pictures, then tried a door. It opened, and he stepped into a long, high-ceilinged hallway. No lights anywhere. No sounds.
The floor might have been made of marble. The walls were dark-stained wood, and suggested that the authorities were not without resources. Several sets of large doors lined the corridor. He opened one and looked in.
It might have been a theater-in-the-round. Or possibly an auditorium. A platform stood in the center of a large room, surrounded by several hundred oversize seats.
Perfect. Digger found a column, climbed atop a seat, and attached the last pickup, the remaining notebook, as high as he could, aiming it at the platform.
They tested it on the lander, and Jack pronounced it satisfactory.
Time to go back.
THE RAIN HAD finally stopped, and Digger was within a block of the waterfront, moving through the shadows, when a pair of doors directly across the street banged open, light spilled into the night, and a crowd began to pile out. It was too late to duck, so he tried to squeeze down, to minimize his height, and kept going. But several were looking at him already. And the voices died off completely. “I’ve attracted attention, Jack.”
“You need help?”
Sure. A lot of help Jack would be. “No. Stay put. I think they they’re wondering about my size.”
“Yeah. It’s probably not de rigueur in that neighborhood.”
Digger wished he had a bigger collar to pull up. He stared at the street and kept walking, but he could feel their eyes on him until he got past them. He wanted to break into a run. He heard nothing behind him. No movement, no sound. It was eerie.
A Goompah appeared in front, coming in his direction. On the same side of the street. There was no way to get around him, no way to avoid being seen. The Goompah’s eyes reacted, in a reflex that was becoming painfully familiar. It squealed, turned, and fled. The shriek triggered the crowd, which joined in the screaming, but they were coming after him. Something sailed past his head.
That put Digger in the impossible position of seeming to chase the fleeing Goompah, whose cries must have been audible all over the waterfront.
They reached the end of the street, the Goompah barreling along in abject terror, Digger right on its heels. It turned right, the direction Dig needed to go to get to the pier where the rendezvous was to take place. But the creature, out of its mind with fear, fell down and rolled out of the way.
Digger was distancing the crowd. “Jack,” he said, “pier in three minutes.”
ALL FIVE PICKUPS passed their field tests, and they were recording that night. Digger watched and listened with satisfaction as the day’s customers haggled and pleaded, criticized and pressed their hands to the tops of their skulls in dismay. They watched a supervisor behind a desk working with subordinates and occasionally reporting to others to whom he was responsible. They watched young Goompahs romp in a park while older ones sat on benches and carried on animated conversations. And they watched a seminar of some sort conducted from the stage in the public building. Digger was surprised how easy it became to interpret substantial passages of the conversation.
Meantime a fresh transmission came in from Hutch. When Jack saw it, he ran it for all of them.
“Help is coming. The al-Jahani will have left by the time you receive this. Dave Collingdale is heading up the operation, and he needs as much information as you can get him. Particularly anything that will allow him to gain access to the language.
“Also, we’re dispatching the Cumberland from Broadside to take supplies and equipment to you. It’ll take off anybody who wants to go home. But it won’t be able to leave for a few days yet. It looks as if it’ll be about seven weeks before you’ll see it. I hate to ask this of you, but it’s essential that we keep somebody at the scene to learn whatever we can. So I need you to hang on there until it arrives. I know that’s not exactly the mission plan, and it’s an inconvenience to you. But you’ll understand this is a special circumstance.
“Also, I need to know what you want to do. We have to maintain an Academy presence until the al-Jahani gets there. But that won’t be until December. Do you want to stay on? Or do you want me to organize a relief mission? Jack, I’d prefer to have you stay, but I understand if you feel enough is enough. Let me know.
“The Cumberland will be carrying shipments of lightbenders and pickups. Plant as many of the devices as you can. It’s essential that we get the language down.
“All data relating to the Goompahs should be designated for relay by Broadside directly to the al-Jahani, and I’d appreciate it if you included me as an information addee.
“Thanks, guys. I know this doesn’t make you happy, but if it means anything, I’m grateful.”
There was a long silence when the Academy logo appeared on-screen. They looked at one another, and Kellie grinned. “The aliens are lunatics,” she said. “And the cloud is coming. Is there anyone who wants to go home?”
It wasn’t exactly what Digger had hoped to hear.
IN FACT, THERE was one. “I don’t plan to spend the next year or so of my life out here,” Winnie told Jack. “It’d be different if there were something constructive I could do. But I’m not needed. I’m ready to head out.”
So was Digger. But Kellie wouldn’t be leaving, so he wasn’t about to go anyplace. Digger let her see that he wanted to stay on, wanted to be part of a major achievement, and all that. The truth was, he wanted Kellie, and everything else was a sideshow. But with Kellie watching, he had no choice but to play the selfless hero. He knew her too well and understood clearly what would happen to her respect for him if he didn’t stand up and do his duty.
He wished, as a compromise, he could think of a way to persuade Jack to go back to Broadside while he stayed here with Kellie. Don’t worry about the details, big fella. We’ll take care of anything that comes up. You go ahead and take some time off.
LIBRARY ENTRY
“You should never talk to strangers, Shalla.”
“Why not, Boomer? Some of the nicest people I know are strangers.”
“But if you know them, they’re not strangers.”
“Oh.”
“Do you see what I mean?”
“Not really, Boomer. I mean, you were a stranger once. Should I not have spoken to you?”
“Well, that’s different.”
“How?”
“I’m a nice person.”
“But how can I find out if I don’t talk to you?”
“I’m not sure, Shalla. But I know it’s not a good idea.”
— The Goompah Show
All-Kids Network
March 19
chapter 12
On board the Jenkins, in orbit around Lookout.
Wednesday, March 19.
BILL DID AN overnight analysis of the food samples and told Digger he probably wouldn’t like any of the local cuisine. They forwarded the results to Broadside and the al-Jahani.