Serpent's Gift (27 page)

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Authors: A. C. Crispin,Deborah A. Marshall

BOOK: Serpent's Gift
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beneath the floor of Cavern Two, and will be collecting it for disposal."

"How do you get rid of it?" Janet asked curiously.

"It's so volatile that we suction the vapor into self-propelled tanks. Each tank is equipped with a rudimentary guidance system that we'll program to soft-land on a worthless hunk of rock several million kilometers away from here on the edge of StarBridge Sector--well out of the space lanes."

"But suppose someone finds the tanks?"

"They're equipped with a warning beacon, so no one finding one before it reaches its destination will be tempted to mess with it. Then, after all the tanks are collected, we detonate the whole thing by remote control. You ought to be able to see the flash from here," Morrow replied.

Boom,
thought Rob, glancing over at Andrea Lynch. When his eyes met hers, she looked down at her holotank.

"While you investigate the logistics of moving our students," Ssoriszs said to Kkintha, "I will contact the CLS Council about funding for such an endeavor.

Our budget will not stretch to cover such an expense--we must have emergency funds allocated to us."

"Do you think the Council will okay that?" Rob asked

156

doubtfully. StarBridge was an expensive proposition as it was. The CLS was no different from any human bureaucracy in its distaste for bailing out agencies that had run over budget.

"That remains to be seen," Ssoriszs said. "We have our detractors on the Council. One of the new representatives from Hurrreeah is extremely conservative, and reportedly, her clan owes honor-debts to the Harkk'ett clan."

Rob nearly groaned aloud. The Mizari was referring to the Simiu clan that had, nearly sixteen years ago, pledged themselves to an undying honor-debt against all the human worlds. The Harkk'etts were a relatively small minority on their planet, but they were also among the most vocal. They regarded StarBridge Academy as a human-tainted institution, and seldom missed a chance to criticize--or, on occasion, denounce--the way the school was run.

"Great," Janet said bitterly. "She ought to find plenty of support from the Heeyoon centrists and the Drnian anti-expansionists. We'd better start filling out grant applications--it looks like we may need them!"

Frustrated, Morrow waved for their attention. "Let's not forget, there's a very good chance that none of this will be necessary!"

"It never hurts to be prepared, Jeff," Lynch said unexpectedly. She glanced at her watch, then stood. "I've got to get back to assign the second shift."

With a halfhearted wave, she hurried out.

Morrow nodded. "I'd better go, too. Try not to worry, everyone. I promise I'll keep in touch, and you'll know the instant we have news, either positive or negative."

Amid subdued farewells from the StarBridge contingent, Jeff departed.

Rob took a deep breath. "I keep hoping that if I just pinch myself hard enough, I'll wake up," he said slowly. "This doesn't look good, my friends."

"No, it doesn't," Janet said. "I can hardly wait for Andreiovitch to get here so we can get a second opinion. I don't like that Lynch woman, and I don't trust her, either."

"Just because she has all the charisma and personal charm of a Drnian spike-roach doesn't make her incompetent," Rob pointed out. "She's obviously intelligent, and Jeff sets great store by her opinions. Says she's

'the best' at her job."

"I'm not saying she's dumb or incompetent," Janet replied tartly. "I'm saying I don't trust her. I'm going to want to examine H.U.'s findings for myself."

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"Under the terms of our contact with them, you have every right to do so,"

Kkintha said.

"What do you think might be wrong?" Rob asked curiously. Personally, he'd speculated that Lynch might be trying to cover up errors her team had made during H.U.'s last radonium check. "Insofar as Lynch is concerned?"

The engineer sighed with frustration. "I don't know! There's nothing concrete!

I don't have a single shred of hard evidence . .. just my gut feeling that she's covering something up."

"I've thought the same thing," Rob admitted, and then continued, in response to Janet's surprised glance, "I've wondered whether she or her crew screwed up during the last monitoring session, and she's trying to cover it up--hide her mistake from Jeff, as well as from the Academy."

"That could be it," Janet said slowly. "People will go to great length to protect their jobs. Of course, it's entirely possible that she's just naturally defensive and surly, and we're jumping to conclusions because we don't like her."

"Serge believes that she may be plotting to steal the star- shrine," Ssoriszs spoke up, taking all of them aback. "After all, if it indeed came from my people's Lost Colony, it would be a priceless treasure."

"A good point," Kkintha said. "There is a thriving trade in uncoded, unregistered antiquities, is there not?"

"The humans call it 'the black market,' " the elderly Liaison told her.

"A good name for it," Kkintha said. "And I must say, I share your dislike for Ms. Lynch."

After a long moment of silence, Rob straightened. "We can't condemn someone just because she's rude," he said finally. "But we
can
keep a close eye on her. There's nothing to prevent us from doing that."

A silent glance of agreement flashed around the conference room, then they all rose to leave.

"Excuse me, Mr. Morrow .. ." Serge said, stepping away from the wall where he'd been leaning. He'd been here, loitering outside the conference room in Horizons Unlimited's suite of offices, ever since Janet Rodriguez had tipped him off about the meeting. He'd stayed out of sight until Andrea Lynch had gone into her cubicle because he didn't want to speak to Jeffrey Morrow with her present.

"Yes?" Morrow said, slowing but not halting.

158

"May I speak to you for a moment? My name is Serge} LaRoche."

Morrow stopped. "The archaeologist, right?" He glanced at his watch. "I'm really busy . .."

"Please, it is important," Serge said. "I was out at the site several days ago and spoke to Ms. Lynch there. She told me she'd tell you that I was there, but when I didn't hear from you, I wondered whether she might have forgotten. I have been waiting to hear from you . .."

"Andrea didn't mention having spoken to you," Morrow said. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."

Serge wasn't surprised to discover that Lynch had said nothing--he hadn't expected her to keep her word. "That is quite all right," he told the older man.

"Is there somewhere we could talk for just a moment? There is something I must ask you, Mr Morrow."

"Please, make it Jeff," Morrow said. " 'Mr. Morrow' is my father."

Serge extended his hand, something he rarely did upon meeting someone for the first time, but he wanted to gauge Jeff's reaction to his artificial hand . .. find out what kind of man the Horizons Unlimited engineer was.

"Serge, please," he said.

As Morrow's fingers gripped Serge's, his eyes widened slightly, but he showed no repugnance and his grasp was firm. The instructor's opinion of the engineer rose considerably. He was certain that Lynch would have had a very different--and unpleasant--reaction.

"Listen, it's lunchtime," Jeff said. "How about if you join me?" *

"Thank you, I would appreciate that," Serge said.

After a short walk through the station, Morrow waved the younger man through the open door into a small Mexican restaurant. As soon as they had ordered--fajitas and tequila for Serge, chicken enchiladas and a beer for Jeff--Morrow sat back, stretching, then folded his arms on the table and regarded Serge] expectantly. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm concerned about the star-shrine at the dig," Serge said. "I promised Professor Greyshine that I'd keep it safe for him, but Ms. Lynch told me I wouldn't be permitted on the worksite| because of insurance regulations."

"She's right about that," Morrow said. "Our carrier would drop] us if we allowed non-H.U. personnel onto a contaminated site."

"How much longer will Cavern Two be contaminated?" Serge 159

asked. "I know from Janet Rodriguez that your crew is removing the radonium-2 very quickly."

"They are," Jeff said. "But I'd say it will be at least another week--maybe two."

"What if I signed a waiver for your insurance company?"

The older man shook his head. "If you signed over your firstborn
child,
they wouldn't agree to anyone but one of our employees coming onsite."

Drinks arrived at that moment, and Serge stalled, thinking fast, while he busied himself with the lime, salt, and tequila. The liquor burned his throat and a warm glow spread through him. With it came an idea.

"Your insurance company will not permit anyone except a Horizons Unlimited employee access to a contaminated site, correct?" he asked.

Eyeing him curiously, Morrow nodded as he sipped his beer.

"Then hire me," Serge said. "As a temporary--I don't know-- consultant on the archaeology site. I could come and go for as long as necessary to permit me to set up the neutralizer, then remove the shrine and place it in a stasis container." He took a deep breath, his eyes holding the engineer's. "Hire me, issue me a check if you need to, to make it official. It will become lost off my credit balance, I assure you. I shall never touch it, I swear. If we did it that way, your insurance carrier would be satisfied, and the star-shrine would be safe."

Morrow smiled slowly as he took a bite of his enchiladas. "That's quick thinking, Serge," he said. "And it might work. But tell me, what makes you think the star-shrine isn't safe right where it is? Contamination by radonium-2

may make it radioactive, but it won't harm the appearance or the structure of the object. And the radonium-2 can be neutralized, you already know that."

Careful now,
Serge cautioned himself, spearing a piece of pepper.
Rob told
you that Morrow considers Lynch one of his most trusted employees . ..
"The radonium-2 contamination could conceivably alter some of our instrument readings," he began, choosing his words as though he were treading on glass shards. Morrow was watching him intently, and he knew the man must be perceptive. So he didn't lie ... quite. "Which could make it even more difficult to determine the origin of the star-shrine. The longer the shrine rests in a contaminated area, the worse the potential for that damage becomes."

"I see," Jeff said. "And I appreciate your diplomacy in not pointing out that the star-shrine is covered with semiprecious

160

gems and potentially extremely valuable--that is, it's eminently worth stealing!" He smiled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Trust a StarBridge graduate to exercise the greatest of tact."

"I'm not a StarBridge graduate," Serge said, staring fixedly at his food as he pushed it around his plate. Any appetite he'd developed from relief at Morrow's quick understanding was quenched in a rush of shame at having to admit his failure. Morrow had been honest with him--he owed honesty in return.

"I studied to be an interrelator, but I never graduated," Serge said stiffly. "Rob Gable and the others let me stay on because I was useful--a good

Orientation Guide, and I teach Intro to Archaeology, but. . ." He took a deep breath. "Please don't confuse me with someone who has--what is the English expression?--made the grade at the Academy."

Jeff was staring at him, and Serge saw him swallow. "I never graduated either," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't even learn Mizari."

Serge was surprised, then touched, by the older man's admission. Morrow's words forged a bond between them. "Yes, but weren't you nearly my age when you came to the Academy?" he asked.

"Depends," Jeff said with a rueful smile. "How old are you?" He glanced at the empty glass of tequila. "Or do I want to know? Corrupting minors isn't my usual custom."

The archaeologist grinned. "I am twenty-two," he said. "And any corruption took place long ago. But, Jeff"--Serge leaned forward earnestly--"do not reproach yourself for not being able to master an alien tongue, having started so late. It is a well-known fact that languages are best learned by the young, and the older one grows, the less chance that a language will become, as it must be for diplomatic work, second nature."

Morrow nodded. "I know that," he said. "Rob warned me before he ever let me come here that I was, in all likelihood, too old to succeed. But I had to try," he finished, his voice roughening. Quickly he polished off the last of his beer.

"I have a feeling you and I have a great deal in common, Serge," he said, flashing the younger man a lopsided grin. "How about another round?"

"Okay," the archaeologist said, "but before we do--what about my proposition? Will you hire me so I can retrieve the star-shrine and keep my promise to Greyshine?"

Jeff thought for a moment, then said, "How about if we do it this way: let me finish the radonium survey of the Academy's

161

asteroid. That'll require my full attention, believe me. By the time that's completed, the radonium-2 level in Cavern Two ought to be negligible anyway.
Then
I'll put you on the payroll and you can get the star-shrine. But while you're waiting for it to be neutralized, you can help out my crew and earn that paycheck. What do you say? Do we have a deal?"

Serge still chafed at the delay, but he recognized that Morrow was bending over backward to accommodate him. What could he say? "Thank you, Jeff,"

he said, putting out his hand. "We have a deal."

"Good!" the engineer said, and beckoned to the hovering waiter. "Another round, please!"

"Your call is going through now, Esteemed One," Ssoriszs' Chhhh-kk-tu assistant's voice came over the intercom. Alone in his quarters, the old Mizari quickly straightened himself to his full height. Hundreds of years of experience had taught him that the ability to project a positive attitude and complete self- confidence were among the most formidable weapons in a diplomat's arsenal.

Expressing his thoughts through the use of such a warlike metaphor brought him up short. Ssoriszs' appendages twitched in the Mizari equivalent of a shudder. I
am beginning to sound like the humans,
he thought.
It comes from
spending so much time with them, speaking their language, I suppose.

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