Exiled to the Stars (72 page)

Susan nodded soberly. "Okay, Ken. I want it."

Ken roused, looked up. "Want what?"

"Vlad's project. I want to take it over and run it."

Ken frowned. "But, Susan, you don't know anything about computers."

She nodded. "Not yet. But I
do
know about running projects, and recruiting, training and handling people. And I
will
know everything the ship's computer knows about computers within a few years."

Ken looked unconvinced, and she continued, "Ken, you and I are realists. Our feet are firmly anchored on the ground, and we know how to get things done. We see things as they are, and deal with them pragmatically. But Vlad was
not
a realist. He saw things not as they are, but as they
could
be
. His imagination and vision made him Earth's foremost roboticist, and provided ideas and support for Cesar and you here. That was the reason we were so happy together. He
completed
me. He provided the dreams that I could pursue. And that's what…" She paused. "I will
not
cry. I will
not
!" Ken watched admiringly as Susan quickly imposed a rigid control.

Finally she resumed. "All I have left now, Ken, are the dreams Vlad left with me. And I
will
pursue them with all the realistic pragmatism in me. You know that I can learn any computer skills I need, all the way to the PhD level. Give me the program. Michiko is well qualified to take over at the lab and crèche, and she deserves the promotion. Make me Director of Computer Research, or some such title. Let me train or recruit a team. It'll take a couple of years to get it off the ground, but I
will
pursue Vlad's dreams to reality."

Abruptly, Ken smiled. "No, Susan. Not Director of Computer Research, but Director of Alien Technology Research. I mentioned that Angel seems to be just marking time. You're just the one to light a fire under him, and all the other scientists, too."

A slow smile spread over Susan's lips. "Funny you should mention that. Vlad was planning to light a fire under Wen Ho Jackson about the power question. He was determined to find a school or a lab, and he wasn't convinced there was one in 'our' city. He wanted to get the tube system running. Ken, that system might cover the whole
planet
.

Ken frowned. "I hadn't thought of that. But what if the spider people aren't really gone? What if there are still a few left? I've been worried about what might come
out
of those tunnels since we found them."

Susan shook her head. "I discussed that once with Vlad. He said I shouldn't worry. We've found a working installation and a working city. He said that something catastrophic happened. If the society had simply degenerated, things like 'our' city would have been looted, and we would have found evidence of spider people living increasingly primitive lives. He thinks it was a plague or something, something that hit hard and fast. That's why everything looks like they just closed up and went home.

"And, Ken," she continued, "I had to be careful in my reports, of course, but those bodies were
old
. Thousands of years old. It was like autopsying an Egyptian mummy. Nothing's 100%, of course, but I'd put the chances of meeting a living spider creature at less than 1%. A lot less.

"What Vlad thought he would find would be a network of cities and installations. Some may be huge, warrens of caverns and tunnels, and others may be small, just a single factory or something. But it's pretty obvious the spider people were subterranean, which means that the tubes were probably their main transportation system.

"But what he told me on our last night together wasn't really a dream, but reality as a dreamer saw it. 'They're gone,' he told me, 'but look what they've left us! Technology untouched for thousands of years, power systems that still operate, and maybe even computers we can learn to talk to. They left us an entire beautiful, unspoiled
world
, Susan, and we're becoming better adapted to it every day. The twins' kids may even be able to live on just Crashlanding's resources. But not only that. They've left us an entire new culture to study, to learn from. We'll learn new concepts, new science, and most of all, new ways of seeing things.'

"I guess you could say he was a believer, Ken. And now, he's made one of me. Here's another one of Vlad's thoughts: If Wen Ho's theory is right, and the spiders used some kind of matter transmission for their power, they might not have been tapping the planet's core. Maybe they were tapping the
sun
!"

Ken's eyes widened. "The sun? Really?"

His tone was skeptical, but Susan smiled and nodded. "Why not? Certainly it's improbable,
to our way of thought
. But who knows what looked like a worthy goal to a carnivorous spider?" She grinned. "See what living with a dreamer will do to a virtuous, clear-thinking realist? Maybe he was wrong. He almost certainly was. But he made me want to find out. On Crashlanding, even a realist can reach for the sun!"

True to his word, Ken got the Council to appoint her "Director of Alien Technology Studies," and place her in charge of all of the colony's efforts to learn about the natives and their technology.

She spent her first several weeks studying the records of the people who would be working for her. Then she began calling them in, getting to know them. She decided she was really looking forward to the first interview.

Andre Benton was the young man Ken had called "A brilliant mind, but a near hermit." Andre was in his late twenties, and his school records and papers bore out his brilliance. But to Susan, it was easy to locate the problem with him: sheer laziness.

For a "near-hermit," Andre looked remarkably like a cheerful playboy. Like nearly all the younger colonists, he was short and swarthy; but his hair was carefully trimmed in the currently fashionable style, his clothing just the 'right' shade, and the 'right' style, with just the 'right' accessories. His shoes were even shined, a style that had only recently arisen. It was an open secret that to those in the 'right' chatrooms on the 'net, the shined shoes were a symbol. They indicated that their owner need not dirty his shoes with manual labor. The large majority of the colonists simply considered it a pretentious affectation. He breezed into Susan's office with airy confidence, and didn't wait for an invitation to take a seat.

Susan restrained a smile. Before being shipped, she had been on the faculty of one of the most prestigious, and most pretentious universities on Earth. She easily recognized the type. It was one she enjoyed deflating.

Andre turned a wide, gleaming smile on her. "You sent for me, Doctor Renko?" he asked almost carelessly, as though conferring a favor.

Susan put on an annoyed, slightly baffled look. "Let's see," she began, "You are…?"

It was Andre's turn to look annoyed.
Everyone
was supposed to know who he was. "Andre Benton, Mistress." He supplied with a frown.

Susan, ignoring him, punched at her tablet. "Ah, here we are. You do something with computers, is that correct?"

His smile was back, but this time it was slightly condescending. "Something, Doctor," he replied. "I might claim to be the colony's foremost expert on the ship's computer."

Susan was staring at her tablet's screen. "Oh, yes. You're that young man that claims to be trying to restore the Virtual Reality function of the ship's computer."

He preened. "Exactly, Doctor, it is my life's work!"

Susan finally raised her eyes, and locked them onto his. "It's your bullshit," she said crudely. She had to suppress a smile. She hadn't used that word in fifty years. But if there was ever an appropriate moment, this was it.

His eyes widened in shock, and she continued. "You completed your PhD in computer science three years ago. Since then you have done nothing but use that story to defraud the colony into paying you a scientist's wage, while successfully avoiding any real work."

His expression had turned angry. "Mistress! I don't have to sit here and be insulted like this!" He started to rise.

"No," she said, "You don't. You can leave, and I'll call and notify the administrator that you have been discharged, and are no longer to be employed in a scientific capacity. But I doubt you'll be able to afford your current residence, or the upkeep on that fancy Tepes car of yours on the minimum subsistence allowance."

He dropped back into his chair. "Doctor!" he wailed in an outraged tone, "My work is important! If we can restore the VR function…"

Susan's face was still stony. "…and if the ship were still in orbit we could fly it home," she finished for him. "You're not talking to some farmer on the Council now,
Messer
Benton. I'll agree that your work is important when you can refer me to your research notes on nanotechnology and semiliquid circuits. Robert Franks was the only
real
expert on the ship's computer to survive the crash.
He
estimated that it would take at least a century for the colony to progress to nanotech, and probably two to produce semiliquid circuits. He died in the plague, but I have no reason to doubt that estimate."

She reversed her tablet, pushed it toward him. "Would you like to call up a few of your more important papers on nanotech?"

He was looking trapped, now, but made no move to pick up the tablet.

"Yes," Susan continued, "I rather thought not." Her tone turned cold and angry. "You have two possible futures,
Messer
Benton, and only two. First, you can fly off in a huff, and find yourself trying to support your current lifestyle on the minimum allowance.

"Or," she continued in a formal tone, "You can come to work for me, doing work that I assign you, on projects that I assign, under my close supervision. This will require regular progress reports. And if I do not find them satisfactory, well, there's always minimum allowance."

There was despair in his face now, but also anger. "But Doctor Renko! You're not a computer scientist! You're not qualified to judge my work!"

Susan nodded, unmoved. "That is true, at the moment. However, I
am
a scientist, and I have a pretty good bullshit detector. I'm also enrolled in classes on the ship's computer. And I learn fast, Messer Benton. If I find you've been sending
me
gobbledygook like you've been giving the Council, you'll be on the dole and marked 'unemployable' so fast you'll leave a hole in the air. Face it, Messer Benton, your gravy train has reached the end of its track."

Andre had no idea what a "gravy train" was, but the meaning was clear from the context. After a moment, his shoulders slumped. His superior air disappeared. "It's not
fair
, Mistress," he wailed.

Susan shrugged pitilessly. "Fair is a word with meaning only in games with defined rules. It wasn't 'fair' for you to defraud the colony out of a scientist's wage for three years." She shrugged again. "So, are you going to work for a living, or go join the no-hopers standing on the street corners?"

Andre sighed. She had him. It had been a brilliant plan, though. Start a research project with no hope of success, one he could drag out for years. Well, actually, he
had
dragged it out for years. But this was Susan Renko. She was powerful, she was tough, and she was
very
smart. Andre did not intend to tangle with her. "What do you want me to do, Mistress?" he asked dully.

Susan nodded. "Do you actually have a workspace in that seduction den of yours?"

Andre suppressed a smile at her term for his home. Now that she mentioned it…He nodded. "Yes, Mistress, and actually, it's pretty complete and up to date. I, uh, I kept it up in case, uh…"

Susan nodded. "In case some Councilman got curious," she finished. He flushed and nodded, and she continued, "All right. Now, while you've been prancing around in your fancy clothes and your fancy car, the Administrator has been trying to deal with a real problem that may eventually become a real crisis for the colony.

"We have about twenty years to learn to understand and use the spider peoples' power system. After that, we will run out of some of the elements necessary for nuclear fusion. We'll be back to solar and wind power, and alcohol fuels, or, God help us, nuclear fission. Solar and wind power will not be sufficient to sustain an advanced culture. And the key to that power system is learning to use their computer systems. Now, we have found no written documents, no papers. But we've found hundreds of those tablet things. We're operating under the assumption that like us, the spider people used them to access the computer network.

"We have identified eight different variations on the spider peoples' tablet things so far. Examples of each have been cut open, but they haven't taught us much. Luckily, we have a large supply of the things. I'm going to have a dozen of each type sent to your home. You've heard about the big one in the city?"

Andre had straightened and his eyes brightened. This was
real
research! "Yes, Mistress," he replied with growing excitement. "Doctor Renko, uh, I mean, Doctor Vlad, found a way to open it, and got a lot of great images, but he just closed it up again."

Susan nodded. "That's right. He felt we weren't ready to confront that level of complexity. The next time that thing is opened, I'm hoping it will be
you
that opens it."

Andre's eyes widened. Yes! He could
really
become the colony's foremost computer expert. He'd have to hurry, though. Doctor Susan was
very
smart, and it was obvious that she was planning to invade the computer realm. Suddenly he was impatient to get to work. This wasn't just tech work repairing peoples' tablets, or writing programs that the ship's computer could write more quickly and with ridiculous ease. And who cared if your shoes were shined, if everyone in the colony knew you by name and by sight? This was real. This was
important
!

He nodded, his face now serious, his expression determined. "It will be, Mistress." He said sincerely. "Doctor Vlad was right to close the big one back up. We're not ready for it, yet. How soon can you get me the tablet things, Mistress?"