The yellow cream was thick on her lips. She licked it off, and allowed him to tug her down beside him. They ate the marsala together, mouth to mouth, lips twining, passing it back and forth. By the time it was gone the work-smock was up to her shoulders. He panted as he swallowed the last of the sweet.
“Wait a sec,” she said. She jumped up, took a pace and waved her hand. The light over the vidcamera blinked on.
“Something more for your library,” she grinned as she rejoined him.
Northrop didn’t say anything. Where his mouth was, he couldn’t say anything.
Castaneda, the leader of the Geological Team, entered the conference room accompanied by Runkfoh, his assistant. He carried a sheaf of papers under his arm. His florid features looked troubled.
Krabbe turned, pleased by his early arrival. “Good work, Castaneda. What’s the news?”
For answer Castaneda laid out a large map on the table in the centre of the room. Krabbe and Bouche both came to look at it. It was a geological surveyor’s map of the planet, done on a Mercator projection.
“Much what we expected, Partner Krabbe, sir. The planet below us—”
“Tenacity,” Krabbe interrupted.
“Sir?”
“Tenacity. That’s what we decided to call it.”
“Yes, sir. Well, uh, Tenacity is, in its own small way, a freak planet. A small enough planet—smaller than Mars. It has an unusually thin crust, and beneath that, the mantle is in layers. The top layer is also unusuaclass="underline" made up of a porous rock of a structure I confess I haven’t come across before. On any other world it would have got compressed by now and would have lost its porosity. It also contains fracture zones, similar to the tectonic plates found in the crust of many larger planets.”
He waved his hand over the-map. “As you know already, Tenacity had surface water once. It was a one-continent world: this one big continent here, and one big ocean, just like Earth used to have long ago, before our mother continent broke up. The ocean on the side of the planet opposite the continent was very deep. It had worn away the crust and lay on the mantle. However, there was enough pressure on the mantle to stop it absorbing any water, though there must have been enough heat convection to make for a pretty warm, balmy ocean.
“Then the catastrophe happened. A stability that had existed for millions, maybe billions of years was disturbed. I think it was probably due to tidal influence from the inward planet, which is bigger than Tenacity and approaches within fifteen million miles. The fracture plates slipped. Some of the pressure on the mantle zone under the deep ocean was eased. The rock became like an expanding sponge. The seawater drained into like it was going down a plughole.”
He shook his head wonderingly. “It must have been really sudden. All in a few years, tens of years at the most. The drainage region lies under a mile of sand now.
“Whatever small amounts of water were left will have taken longer to disappear. First it will have evaporated, and then gradually been disassociated by solar radiation, the hydrogen rising to the top of the atmosphere.”
“So you were right,” Krabbe breathed. “It’s still there!”
“Right under their feet, though they don’t know it.”
Bouche spoke, glancing ferally at Castaneda. “The point is, can we get it back again?”
Castaneda nodded. He stabbed his finger at another part of the survey map. “This faultline here is what it’s all about. It kept the water up top once and it can do it again. If we put down a few strategically placed shock tubes we can lever the plates back into opposition again. The pressure will come back on. The rock won’t be able to hold all that water. It will come squirting up to fill the old ocean bed. It will rain again, there’ll be rivers, lakes, inland seas. Plenty of shoreline for the lobster people.”
“Shoreline. That’s what they must like.”
“Yes. Of course, the water will be rather warm to begin with. Up to a hundred degrees. Most of it’s steam right now.”
Bouche stared at the map. “Why don’t I see your shock tubes placed?”
“We shall need to survey the area in detail, do some drilling. I suggest Runkfoh takes charge of that, sir. Northrop’s experience will also be valuable.”
“Runkfoh?” Krabbe said suspiciously. “What’s wrong with you doing it, Castaneda?”
Castaneda became diffident. “As you may recall, sir, I am prone to cancers. There’s a lot of radium down there. It’s very carcinogenic. May I request that I be excused from going down on the surface?”
“Is that all? Don’t be a sissy, Castaneda. Use radpaint, that’ll take care of it.” Krabbe looked aggravated.
“Radpaint isn’t completely effective, sir,” Castaneda pleaded.
“Then you can get cured. You’ve been cured before, haven’t you?” Krabbe waved his hand dismissively. “Get on with the job. If we make a deal, I want to be able to move fast. And you can take Northrop from the brig.”
The picture of defeat, the geological engineer took up his map and folded it among his papers. He nodded to Runkfoh. The two men left.
Krabbe went back to the viewplate. “You know, Boris,” he said, “those lobsters must have a terrible hunger. They must feel a terrible frustration. They were clever enough to survive the dehydration, so it’s obvious they have a lot of experience and a healthy urge to dominate. If Tenacity should get its water back they’ll be in their element again. They’ll be able to proliferate, restore their former grandeur. We can give them heaven! What won’t they pay for it?”
“As to that,” Bouche said with a scowl, “I suspect we’ll find they’re pretty smart traders.”
“We’ll stick them with a contract, don’t worry about that. Equal partners in a whole world! Why, the radium alone—what was the quote on radium, last you heard? Our own empire! After all, it’s an offer they practically can’t refuse.”
There was a cough from Spencer. Nervously, he spoke. “What about the dehydrate species, sir? Giving Tenacity its water back will hardly do them much good. It will almost certainly kill most of them, if not all.”
“Oh, they’re just savages, Spencer, the sort that die out on thousands of planets once there’s any progress. Why, take a look here—”
He twisted knobs. A tall, thin, green desert warrior came into view. “See that weapon he carries? With a stock like a rifle, only instead of a barrel it fires that funny curved blade? It’s a flenching blade, and it spins as it flies through the air. Its purpose is to carve as much flesh from the bone as possible.” He shook his head with a show of moral disapproval. “Weapons as horrific as that are outlawed on every civilised world.”
Spencer was relatively new to the staff and this was his first time on a gogetter ship—his first experience as a bondman, in fact. Krabbe spoke to him affably, condescendingly. It pleased him to be avuncular.
“Of course,” Bouche commented, “it’s probably the best way to be sure of killing someone who doesn’t bleed.”
Bravely Spencer said, “What I question is the legality of it, sir, not the morality. Interfering with the geography and climate of an alien planet, not to say the culture, to the extent of species extermination…”
“The desert dwellers are a biological sport,” Krabbe said shortly. “They resulted from a natural catastrophe. The lobsters are the authentic owners of Tenacity, and we’ll have their approval.”
“I only hope the Stellar Commission sees it that way, sir. I don’t need to remind you of the penalties.”
“That’s nothing for you to worry your head about, Spencer,” Krabbe told him firmly. “Only Partner Bouche and myself are legally liable for the orders we give.”
“Yes sir.” Spencer sat biting his lip.