noticed.”
“Stop it, not now. This is serious: if they do wish to discredit us, what can we do to stop them?”
“When my dad was doing some work for a timber company, I remember him saying the golden rule for talking to media was always have your own camera going. That way if they try any funny editing you can show the original.”
“Did that happen very often?”
“I don’t know, but they sure worried about it. Anyway, you put up your raw video on a public site right away. Even if you did something really embarrassing.”
“You should be photographing yourself when you meet with them. Did you do anything embarrassing?”
“Not really. That’s a good idea, though. In fact, let’s pass it on to Dr. Sen—put a camera on them every goddamned minute, except when they’re in the bathroom or fucking or something. Which reminds me . . .”
“Not yet. I don’t want to forget about it.” She used her terminal to send a note to Dr. Sen. Rob made it very difficult, but she managed.
BROADTAIL attacks the task of planning the expedition with enthusiasm that surprises even himself. Part of it may simply be the pleasure of having Longpincer’s vast library to consult. He skims through accounts of other scientific expeditions, taking special note of the equipment and supplies they describe. He carefully reads every bestiary and compendium of animals for mention of anything resembling the creature he is seeking.
Longpincer’s kitchen is also a luxury. Broadtail doesn’t even have to go and ask for meals. They simply appear beside him as he studies, brought by inconspicuous servants. The steady supply of food means he needs little rest, so Broadtail makes good progress, filling a whole reel with notes and lists of items to take along.
The first setback comes when Longpincer runs the reel through his feelers and stiffens with shock at the expense. “My dear fellow, I know I have a large establishment, but even I can’t arrange this many towfins. It’s more than my entire herd.”
“But cutting down the amount of supplies reduces the distance we can cover! Each member of the expedition needs one jar of food for every twenty dozen cables we travel.”
“That’s something else—the number of staff. I can understand taking along a scout and someone to tend the towfins. But six guards? A cook? Two assistants for yourself?”
“Very well,” says Broadtail. “How about just one assistant?”
“How about just going alone? I recall Narrowhead 99 Farswimmer charting the entire Deep Rifts vent system all by himself.”
“His own account refers to Narrowhead almost starving and nearly being killed by bandits and hostile landowners.”
“I think that is just his attempt to make the narrative more exciting.”
“Perhaps, but I am certain that I cannot manage alone. How many adults are you willing to send?”
Longpincer considers this. “Three. Yourself, to handle scientific matters and command the party; a skilled coldwater hunter as your guide; and a menial to tend the beast and prepare food. One towfin for supplies. That would let you travel some six thousand cables. A considerable range.”
Broadtail decides he can make do with the reduced expedition. “My plan is to search along the old rift stretching from here toward the cold shallows. I remember those strange creatures approaching from that direction, and it seems reasonable that they might follow the line of old vents along the rift.”
“Six thousand cables along the rift takes you very nearly to the cold shallows. An excellent plan. Of course, the ancient rift settlements may have old inscriptions for you to examine.”
“I recall thinking of that,” says Broadtail blandly.
“Try not to forget the purpose of the trip.” Longpincer pushes up from the floor of his study. “Very well, I approve. Now I propose we celebrate with a good meal.”
“As you are my sponsor, I cannot oppose you,” says Broadtail, and the two of them head for
“Stop it, not now. This is serious: if they do wish to discredit us, what can we do to stop them?”
“When my dad was doing some work for a timber company, I remember him saying the golden rule for talking to media was always have your own camera going. That way if they try any funny editing you can show the original.”
“Did that happen very often?”
“I don’t know, but they sure worried about it. Anyway, you put up your raw video on a public site right away. Even if you did something really embarrassing.”
“You should be photographing yourself when you meet with them. Did you do anything embarrassing?”
“Not really. That’s a good idea, though. In fact, let’s pass it on to Dr. Sen—put a camera on them every goddamned minute, except when they’re in the bathroom or fucking or something. Which reminds me . . .”
“Not yet. I don’t want to forget about it.” She used her terminal to send a note to Dr. Sen. Rob made it very difficult, but she managed.
BROADTAIL attacks the task of planning the expedition with enthusiasm that surprises even himself. Part of it may simply be the pleasure of having Longpincer’s vast library to consult. He skims through accounts of other scientific expeditions, taking special note of the equipment and supplies they describe. He carefully reads every bestiary and compendium of animals for mention of anything resembling the creature he is seeking.
Longpincer’s kitchen is also a luxury. Broadtail doesn’t even have to go and ask for meals. They simply appear beside him as he studies, brought by inconspicuous servants. The steady supply of food means he needs little rest, so Broadtail makes good progress, filling a whole reel with notes and lists of items to take along.
The first setback comes when Longpincer runs the reel through his feelers and stiffens with shock at the expense. “My dear fellow, I know I have a large establishment, but even I can’t arrange this many towfins. It’s more than my entire herd.”
“But cutting down the amount of supplies reduces the distance we can cover! Each member of the expedition needs one jar of food for every twenty dozen cables we travel.”
“That’s something else—the number of staff. I can understand taking along a scout and someone to tend the towfins. But six guards? A cook? Two assistants for yourself?”
“Very well,” says Broadtail. “How about just one assistant?”
“How about just going alone? I recall Narrowhead 99 Farswimmer charting the entire Deep Rifts vent system all by himself.”
“His own account refers to Narrowhead almost starving and nearly being killed by bandits and hostile landowners.”
“I think that is just his attempt to make the narrative more exciting.”
“Perhaps, but I am certain that I cannot manage alone. How many adults are you willing to send?”
Longpincer considers this. “Three. Yourself, to handle scientific matters and command the party; a skilled coldwater hunter as your guide; and a menial to tend the beast and prepare food. One towfin for supplies. That would let you travel some six thousand cables. A considerable range.”
Broadtail decides he can make do with the reduced expedition. “My plan is to search along the old rift stretching from here toward the cold shallows. I remember those strange creatures approaching from that direction, and it seems reasonable that they might follow the line of old vents along the rift.”
“Six thousand cables along the rift takes you very nearly to the cold shallows. An excellent plan. Of course, the ancient rift settlements may have old inscriptions for you to examine.”
“I recall thinking of that,” says Broadtail blandly.
“Try not to forget the purpose of the trip.” Longpincer pushes up from the floor of his study. “Very well, I approve. Now I propose we celebrate with a good meal.”
“As you are my sponsor, I cannot oppose you,” says Broadtail, and the two of them head for
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