Finally, the evening came when Topaz, standing at Josh’s side putting plates into the disposal, muttered: “Tomorrow. Don’t look for the two of us after midday.”
Before midday, however, other events intruded.
Early in the morning, when everyone was waiting in the dining area to be assigned their daily duties, Sol Brewster threw them another curveball.
“You’ve all adjusted to Solferino.” He was standing at the wall display, and grinning as though something was giving him special pleasure. “That’s good. What’s not so good is that you haven’t done a stroke of work since you came here.”
He watched closely for signs of protest. Everyone stoically waited, and finally he went on: “I mean real work. Something that will repay Foodlines for the expense of shipping your carcasses out here and training you. Well, the holiday ends today. You begin to earn your keep. Take a look.”
The wall behind him came to life. It provided a view of Solferino, taken from space. As they watched, the picture zoomed in on one area of the upper hemisphere.
“We are here.” Brewster placed his finger on a point near the center of the display. “To give you an idea of scale, these are the Barbican Hills, near the bottom. But the area that the company is more interested in is this one.” He tapped the wall, where a long, dark gash showed in the surface of Solferino. “That is the Avernus Fissure. It’s a low-lying area, some of it well below sea level, and it’s volcanically active. It was chosen by a space survey as a place which may have new and valuable biological products. However, there has never so far been a systematic ground survey. I, with your assistance, will be performing the first. We’ll be taking the cargo aircar there later this morning. Each of you will be issued a test kit, designed to detect the presence of certain substances valuable to Foodlines, in the native plant life. I will assign you your territories and monitor your results. All clear? Good. I want you back here and ready to leave in”—he paused, as usual when he was giving out schedules—“five minutes. A personal pack is not to exceed six kilos. Don’t try to bring your usual rubbish. Carlson!”
Everyone stared at Winnie. She had been standing with her mouth open and her eyes closed, and she came to attention only when Brewster shouted her name.
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you hear what I said, Carlson? You certainly didn’t look like you were listening.”
“I was, sir. Sir, do you wish me to go with the group?”
“Why, yes, I think that would be nice.” Brewster’s voice dripped sarcasm. “I certainly had it in mind. Surely you do not imagine that we could get along without your valuable presence? What other plans do you have? To spend the period of our absence loafing in bed?”
“No, sir.”
“Then let’s get moving.” His voice rose to a roar. “Any questions?”
“How long will we be gone, sir?” Josh was breaking the golden rule: With Sol Brewster, you never drew attention to yourself in any way. But he had to ask for Topaz’s benefit.
The question didn’t receive Brewster’s usual dismissal of the questioner as a total moron. It rather seemed to surprise him. “Three days,” he said after a moment of frowning uncertainty. “Yes, that’s right. You should plan to be away for three days. Any other questions? No? Then go to it.”
Topaz walked with Josh to the door. As they went out she muttered from the side of her mouth, “Think he guessed, and did it on purpose? We’re screwed. I daren’t take the cache on the flier, and by the time we get back most of the food will spoil.”
The test kit was so simple, even Ruby would have no trouble using it. Brewster demonstrated it as the flier’s automatic pilot took them east.
“Here’s the feeder.” He pointed to an aperture in the top of the unit, which was a squat upright cylinder about six inches tall and three across. “All you have to do is put in a sample of the plant you’ve picked. Leaves, stem, or root—but don’t assume that because you’ve tested one part, there’s no need to test another. Some plants concentrate materials in one particular place.”
“Like hydrogen cyanide in peach kernels, sir? Or vanadium in tunicates.”
It was Amethyst again, determined to show off even if it guaranteed a roasting. The comment didn’t get praise from Brewster—nothing seemed to—but this time all it led to was a startled glare and a mild, “When I want your inputs I will ask for them.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You put the sample in here.” Brewster took a piece of umbrella plant leaf. For a change, he sounded enthusiastic about what he was doing. “There’s only one thing to remember: You put the plant into the unit where you collect it. Don’t go wandering off with a sample, then decide it’s time you processed it. There’s a good reason for that. Each kit has its own inertial navigation system, good enough to determine your position on the surface of Solferino to within a meter. But the unit doesn’t know where you pick the sample, only where you are when you process it.
“Once the sample is inside, you press this.” He touched a button on the side of the cylinder. “Then you wait for five to ten seconds. If there is nothing in the sample to merit more detailed analysis, this light on the side will flash yellow. That will happen most of the time. Any substances that we already know about, but find interesting, will be identified here. The light will flash red. Real anomalies—substances that the test kit has never seen before, and can’t explain chemically—make the light on the side flash bright blue. Before you get excited, I’ll tell you that an anomaly is a one-in-ten-thousand chance. It’s so rare that you shouldn’t expect to see it at all in your whole five days of testing.”
“Three days,” Ruby said promptly. “You said three days.”
The others winced in anticipation, but Brewster only frowned and said mildly, “Three days. Yes. That is what I meant. Three days of testing before we return to the compound.”
The little light was flashing yellow. The kit had finished its work with the umbrella plant leaf. And the dark scar of the Avernus Fissure was coming into view on the far horizon.
Josh had given up on the idea of the search for ruperts. Topaz hadn’t.
After the flier had landed, and while they were watching again the miracle of the self-erecting buildings, she edged over to Josh. “Tonight. Outside, by the fissure. Wait until you’re sure everyone else is asleep.”
The message seemed clear as could be, but after everyone else was in bed, and Josh was wishing that he was, he found himself alone in the darkness. It was a crescent moon, on a chilly, cloudless night. The camp was on his left. The Avernus Fissure, smoking and ominous, was a red glow and sulfurous smell off to the right. The stars were bright overhead. But of Topaz, there was no sign at all.
It was more than chilly. It was cold. Josh shivered, crossed his arms over his chest, and cursed. He was ready to give up and head off to bed when he glimpsed a dark shadow moving away from the camp.
He almost called out, until he realized that the almost-invisible figure was not heading toward him, but angling away to the left. He peered into the darkness, suspecting that maybe he was making up the whole thing from half-seen patterns of light and dark.
Before he could convince himself of that, a second spectral figure appeared from the camp. It flitted across his line of sight, heading the same way as the first one.
Josh had suffered all that he could stand. He stole toward the camp, determined to follow what he had seen and find out for sure what was going on. Halfway there he saw yet another dark shape, creeping along uncertainly toward the edge of the fissure.
By now his eyes were as adjusted to the darkness as they would ever be. He reached out and took Topaz by the arm. It was her turn to jump and utter a near-inaudible squeak.