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“We’re a helluva long ways from Brass Monkey and what with the weather on this world being like it is, why, you could build a whole city a few kilometers from the outpost.”

A city this was not, though it employed a small army of human technicians. They looked up curiously from their work as the parade passed them by. None tried to engage the visitors in conversation. Ethan found that odd. The presence of strangers within the complex ought to have provoked more than curiosity. Surely even the most ingenuous among them knew they were participating in an illegal operation. That might have something to do with their reticence.

“I don’t recognize any of this.” Cheela Hwang was studying the complex machinery intently. “I wish some of the people from our engineering department were here.”

“Be glad they’re not,” Ethan told her.

“Some kind of mining operation?”

“Possible.” September was as puzzled as any of them as to the complex’s purpose. “Maybe they found a big ore body here and they’re digging it out on the sly. You’d have to do it that way, since you wouldn’t be able to get permission from the authorities. On a Class IVB world any minerals would be left untouched, kept in trust as it were for the locals. Maybe whoever’s responsible—and they’ve sunk a lot of credit into this operation—is paying off Massul and Corfu and the others with beamers and skimmers and such.”

The deeper they marched into the complex, the easier it became to sense the vastness of the installation. The temperature here had risen to just below human optimum. Corfu and his troops seemed halfway acclimated, but Elfa and the other Tran from the icerigger were suffering, their long tongues hanging out as they panted incessantly, their bodies fighting to rid their systems of excess heat. Ethan and his companions had switched off their survival suits.

Corfu directed them into a large service elevator. It barely held all of them and would have been a good place to try overpowering their captors. Once again September vetoed dal-Jagger’s suggestion. At close quarters even a badly aimed beamer could do horrible damage to mere flesh and bone.

The lift ascended slowly, eventually depositing them in a deserted hallway. Corfu led them to a pair of doors which parted to reveal a spacious circular room. Free-form windows spotting the far wall looked out over sandstone monoliths completely enshrouded in fog. When the mist parted Ethan could see gentle slopes lining a smoking valley. Taller plumes of fog or smoke streaked the otherwise cloudless sky.

Here then was the proof of the volcanism which Hwang and her associates had been so sure existed. Yet there was something about the massive plumes that didn’t look right. They did not vary in thickness or intensity and showed no signs of fluctuating in strength. Ethan had visited a few hot springs in his life and their output was never this consistent.

“Perhaps the installation we walked through utilizes the subsurface volcanic heat for power.” He nodded toward the windows. “This vented steam could be a by-product of energy generation.”

“Probably is,” September agreed, “but I don’t think volcanism has anything to do with it.”

Any chance of pursuing September’s thoughts further was eliminated as they were pushed into the room, which on closer inspection most resembled a conference chamber combined with an office. Their beamer-wielding guards split up to flank the entrance. Corfu strode toward the windows and bent over a high-backed chair, whispering.

A small, dark-skinned man (though not as dark as Williams) rose from the chair. His back was to them and he was staring out at the smoking valley. Ethan wondered what this room would look like from the outside. Unless you stumbled into it, he was sure it would blend perfectly into its rocky surroundings. Even the free-form windows would be difficult to identify from a distance. He didn’t have to debate whether this was the result of camouflage or aesthetics.

As the man turned to face them he continued listening to Corfu. Ethan saw no evidence of a translator in the man’s ear. It followed that he was as fluent in Tran as any of them. His manner was preoccupied, nervous, and intense. He was smaller than Williams and his structure was delicate without in any way being effeminate. When he spoke he sounded preoccupied and almost apologetic.

“Please, all of you, sit down. I am sorry for the manner in which you were brought here, but as you will learn it was necessary. Until I have determined how your purpose and intent in being here will affect our functions, I must be cautious.”

“We’re more interested in your purposes and intent,” said Williams.

The man turned to him, tight-lipped. “Already I don’t like you. Please keep your mouth closed until you are spoken to.”

Not very apologetic, Ethan mused. Not all the fires here burned beneath the smoking vale beyond the windows.

Williams bristled but kept quiet. Their interests would not be served by provoking a confrontation before they’d learned anything. September stepped forward and performed introductions for human and Tran alike. The man listened politely while Corfu smirked in the background. When Hunnar and Elfa were introduced and what they represented described, the man began shaking his head slowly while gazing at the floor, giving the appearance of one who’s just lost a paper clip and whose sole desire was to find it immediately.

“I’ve never heard of your union,” he said when he finally looked up at them. “Unfortunately, cut off as we are here in the southern part of your world it is impossible for us to keep up with native affairs elsewhere. I am going to believe you because I’d like to. Your union suits our purpose here.”

Ethan pointed to Corfu. “That’s what he said.”

“Yes.” The man smiled thinly at the merchant. “Corfu has been a great help to me.” Ethan noted that there was no mention made of Massul fel-Stuovic, emperor of all Tran-ky-ky.

“You must forgive my forgetfulness. I have been very busy and it has been some time since I was required to practice anything resembling the social amenities. I am Dr. Shiva Bamaputra. I am in charge of the installation here at Yingyapin.”

“Quite a setup,” September commented.

“It is fairly impressive, isn’t it?”

“Enough to impress even a Commonwealth inspectorate. Why don’t you apply for a permit for whatever it is you’re doing here? It would make things a lot easier for you.”

“You choose to affect the air of an uneducated bumpkin, Mr. September, but I think I know better. I think you know as well as I why I cannot do that. Why do you think we built underground here if not to escape detection from those who would disagree with our intentions? We would have had to do this in any event in order to preserve heat. Heat is very important to what we are doing, you see, and even fusion stations are not unlimited in what they can achieve.”

Then volcanism wasn’t involved, Ethan reflected. “Just what is it you are doing here?”

Bamaputra looked past him, past all of them. “Something the Commonwealth would not approve of, I think. The reaction of the Councilors of the United Church would be stronger still. They’re all so stiff and formal, so tradition-bound and conservative that even if they saw the chance to help those in need, they wouldn’t do so if it didn’t fit their precious regulations. They would shut us down in an instant despite the benefits that are accruing to the people of this world.” He turned back to face the windows that overlooked the valley.

“We are Tranforming.”

“That’s a contradiction in terms,” Hwang said. “This world is already ‘Tranformed.’ ”