“Well, we’re not. What do you want me to do with them?”
“The Tran we will sit on and try to bring over to our camp. As for these other meddlers, I would much prefer to dump them into a hole in the ice and then allow it to freeze over. While that is an appealing scenario, I fear it is impractical. If they do not return, they will be missed. Not that those bureaucrats at Brass Monkey can do anything without skimmers, but in the event of a mass disappearance they might be able to secure a waiver of regulations. That would mean more of the same types snooping around here. We can do without that kind of attention. Therefore we cannot kill them—yet. Nor can we let them leave.
“Those Tran who remain obstinate can of course be disposed of.”
“What about this trio of outsiders, this guy Fortune, the schoolteacher, and September, the big guy? I don’t imagine they’d be missed.”
Bamaputra shook his head. “Killing them would only make the rest that much more obstinate.”
“Are you thinking of persuading some of them to work for us?”
“The thought had occurred to me. I don’t know any of them yet. Money is available for such purposes. That might swing one or two of them over to us, but not all, I’m afraid. I fear several are idealists.” He sniffed. “There is no place in science for idealism.”
“What if we kept the women here as hostages?”
“Too risky. It would only take one to give us away. The ones we allowed to return to the outpost might harbor hidden dislikes for those we held here. We absolutely cannot allow any of them out of the installation.”
“So what do we do?” Antal put his feet up on the couch. Bamaputra eyed him distastefully, but said nothing.
“If we cannot persuade them to join us and we cannot dispose of them, we will simply have to keep them alive and quiet. There is no hurry. They will not be expected to return for some while and so we will have time to think. In time we will come up with an appropriate solution. Or they may. For now let us do this: We can have them make a recording. Let’s say our studious guests have encountered an unexpectedly advanced Tran community boasting a unique social order which they wish to study while they pursue their investigations of local meteorological anomalies. The Tran in question have agreed to put them up until they have completed their studies. All of this can be put on a recording chip and sent back with some of our own Tran in a small ice ship. These people did bring recording equipment with them, I trust?”
“Yeah. We’ve been through all their stuff. Gauges and samplers and so forth. What you’d expect. No weapons.” He grinned. “Can’t break regulations, you know. They had a good field recorder.”
Bamaputra nodded approvingly. “Everyone on the recording will be all smiles and contentment. Its arrival should allay any worries on the part of both the outpost scientific and government administration. And I understand the new Resident Commissioner has arrived. She will be too busy settling in to concern herself with a group of explorers who by their own admission are in no danger. What do you think? Will they cooperate and make the necessary recording?”
“I don’t think there’ll be any problem with that. I’ll stick a beamer in somebody’s ear and threaten to pull the trigger. That ought to eliminate any hesitation. This doesn’t strike me as an unusually brave or foolhardy bunch.”
“Fine. Meanwhile we will continue operations normally. When the next supply vessel arrives we will relay news of this awkward development back to headquarters. Let them chew on the problem and come up with a final determination. That way it will be out of our hands. I don’t want the responsibility. Our task is to see that our work here continues uninterrupted.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“What kind of watch do you have on them?”
“Watch?” Antal sucked in smoke, exhaled a small cloud. “They’re well secured. Standard camera surveillance. You want me to put guards on their rooms? They’re not going anywhere, and I’d rather not spare the personnel.”
“If you’re sure…”
“The Tran are sealed in an empty perishables storeroom and the others in a safe dorm. Now and then I have somebody check on them and they’ll be fed three times a day. The Tran don’t know enough to start looking for a way out and that dormitory has magnetic seals on the door. No locks to pick. The cameras make thirty-second room sweeps. They’re unbreakable, regular security equipment. Why take somebody away from his job so he can go to sleep in front of a door with a beamer in his hand? These are machinists, programmers, and fusion engineers, not peaceforcers.
“If anyone in either room tries to fiddle with the door, the cameras will show it to security central. We’d just tell the fiddlers to knock it off or else. They’re as aware of their predicament as we are. I doubt they’ll try anything.”
Bamaputra hesitated, then nodded. “This isn’t my area of expertise. You know best.”
“It’s not my specialty either, but I wouldn’t worry. They can’t go to the bathroom without being seen. There’s no camera in the Tran dorm but they wouldn’t know how to break a magnetic seal even if they were told what it was.” He pulled a fresh narcostick from his vest pocket and extended it toward the administrator. “Sure you won’t try one of these: Helps you forget where you are.”
“I prefer to know where I am.” He sniffed disdainfully. “What is the point in distorting your perceptions when there is so much of interest to observe while they are functioning properly?”
Antal sat up. “Maybe mine aren’t functioning right, then, because it beats the hell out of me how anyone could find anything of interest to observe on this spherical ice cube. All I’m interested in observing are my quarterly credit transfers. I’ve gotta check Number Three. Been having some overheating problems. Minor stuff, but I want to look into it. You know how temperamental those magnetic containment fields can be.” He rose, started toward the exit.
“You going to stay here and stare at the steam?” he asked curiously.
Bamaputra had turned to face the windows. “For a while.”
“Suit yourself.” Antal left the administrator to his contemplation. What a weirdo. He’d long since given up trying to understand the smaller man. For a while, Antal thought he might even have been an extremely well-built, cleverly programmed robot. The theory was quickly disproves He’d encountered a few pure humanoid machines and without exception every one of them was friendlier and warmer than Bamaputra. He was too distant, too cold to be a robot.
September lay on two bunks placed end to end and put his hands behind his head. “Well, young feller-me-lad, how do we get out of this?”
“I don’t know,” Ethan told him as he stared at the single door, “but they daren’t kill us.”
“Daren’t say daren’t. Anyone willing to sacrifice a few tens of thousands of intelligent locals to further a commercial end is more than capable of bumping off a few members of his own species.”
“I don’t doubt they’d do it in a minute if they thought they could get away with it, but they must know we’d be missed back at Brass Monkey.”
“I’m sure they do or we’d probably be sucking ice by now. The longer we sit here and don’t report back, the more curious Hwang’s colleagues back at the outpost will become. So whatever this Bamaputra fellow decides, he’s going to have to do it pretty quick. You’re right about one thing, though. I don’t think our imminent demise is one of their primary options. There’s plenty to dislike about our captors, but they don’t strike me as rash. I wouldn’t be surprised to see them try to co-opt Hwang and her people.”
“Surely not.” Ethan was shocked by the suggestion.
“If you work on somebody long enough, it’s been proven you can alter their attitudes no matter how dedicated they are. This Bamaputra’s sharp. And he’s a scientist himself. He can talk to folks like Blanchard and Semkin in their own language. He might eventually be able to convince some of our friends that what he’s doing really is in the best interests of the Tran, his backers’ ulterior motives notwithstanding.”