blocks of dirt-plus-boulders neatly together and securely fastened to the grapplers. The hole would not cave in, and the blocks would not crumble and rain back into the hole. But forty meters across pretty much defined the entire valley. The blocks had to be individually, slowly, lifted over the surrounding mountains and set down wherever there was room.
“This will take longer than we thought,” Kaufman said, watching.
“Ja,” Gruber replied, without regret, “but we will get there. We can work through the night, easy. Look, Lyle, at that striation. Ten thousand years of geologic history on the side of a cube of dirt!”
Kaufman couldn’t find the rock strata as compelling as Gruber did. “How long do you think it will be before the natives notice that we’re dicing and rearranging their planet?”
But Gruber seemed as little interested in native reaction as Kaufman was in hole digging. Kaufman sighed. Maybe, since the excavation was all occurring within the Neury Mountains where natives never went, they wouldn’t ever know about the strip mining.
Another concern presented itself. He would have to walk back through the tunnels. Crewmen had begun widening the narrowest of these and draining the wettest, using nano and lasers under the supervision of an experienced mining tech. But the work was far from finished.
To Kaufman’s surprise, Capelo walked with him.
“I’d have thought you would have slept right next to the hole,” Kaufman said lightly. He wasn’t driven into a rage by Capelo’s abrasive remarks as Albemarle always was, but he couldn’t say he liked the young physicist, either.
“My kids came down on the second shuttle run,” Capelo said. “I can’t supervise here without having dinner with them and saying good night.”
“Of course,” said Kaufman, who didn’t have and didn’t want children.
“By the way,” Capelo said abruptly as they turned the corner of a smooth round lava tunnel, “where’s Marbet Grant been lately?”
“Marbet?”
“Yes, you know—our diminutive, red-headed, over-engineered Sensitive. It’s not like we have scads of them on board. Isn’t she supposed to help Ann Sikorski play liaison with the natives?”
“She was,” Kaufman said easily, “and she was scheduled to come down with Ann. But I got a comlink from the Shepard a few hours ago. Marbet’s caught some sort of virus, and ship’s doctor has quarantined her in orbit until he knows exactly what it is.”
Capelo glanced at him. “That’s funny. I should think any virus any of us had picked up on Mars would have shown up before now. Like Gruber’s did.”
“There are a lot of mutated viruses whose replicating behavior we don’t understand yet,” Kaufman said, hoping this was true. Biology was not his forte. “Why do you ask?”
“My girls asked. She played with them, and Sudie especially misses her.”
“Well, there will be a lot of new things for them to see down here,” Kaufman said.
“Yes. But I’m glad we have that electronic perimeter. These natives are the same ones that killed two human kids in the previous expedition, you know. Cut their throats. Bastards decided the kids weren’t ‘real.’”
“Yes,” Kaufman said neutrally. He thought quickly. Would it be better to encounter Capelo’s rage, or lose his trust through implied lies?
“Actually, Tom, we’ve had to turn off the perimeter. But we’ve doubled guard patrols and—”
Capelo stopped walking and turned to face Kaufman. In the tunnel shadows thrown by the powertorch his face looked eerily distorted. “Turned off the perimeter?”
“The Worlders have changed their minds and decided humans are real, after all. One of the aliens got badly shocked on the fence. It violates their shared perceptions of reality, which we can’t afford, Tom.”
Capelo said flatly, “Because it’s their planet.”
“Yes, it’s their planet,” Kaufman said, and waited for the explosion.
It didn’t come. Capelo
“This will take longer than we thought,” Kaufman said, watching.
“Ja,” Gruber replied, without regret, “but we will get there. We can work through the night, easy. Look, Lyle, at that striation. Ten thousand years of geologic history on the side of a cube of dirt!”
Kaufman couldn’t find the rock strata as compelling as Gruber did. “How long do you think it will be before the natives notice that we’re dicing and rearranging their planet?”
But Gruber seemed as little interested in native reaction as Kaufman was in hole digging. Kaufman sighed. Maybe, since the excavation was all occurring within the Neury Mountains where natives never went, they wouldn’t ever know about the strip mining.
Another concern presented itself. He would have to walk back through the tunnels. Crewmen had begun widening the narrowest of these and draining the wettest, using nano and lasers under the supervision of an experienced mining tech. But the work was far from finished.
To Kaufman’s surprise, Capelo walked with him.
“I’d have thought you would have slept right next to the hole,” Kaufman said lightly. He wasn’t driven into a rage by Capelo’s abrasive remarks as Albemarle always was, but he couldn’t say he liked the young physicist, either.
“My kids came down on the second shuttle run,” Capelo said. “I can’t supervise here without having dinner with them and saying good night.”
“Of course,” said Kaufman, who didn’t have and didn’t want children.
“By the way,” Capelo said abruptly as they turned the corner of a smooth round lava tunnel, “where’s Marbet Grant been lately?”
“Marbet?”
“Yes, you know—our diminutive, red-headed, over-engineered Sensitive. It’s not like we have scads of them on board. Isn’t she supposed to help Ann Sikorski play liaison with the natives?”
“She was,” Kaufman said easily, “and she was scheduled to come down with Ann. But I got a comlink from the Shepard a few hours ago. Marbet’s caught some sort of virus, and ship’s doctor has quarantined her in orbit until he knows exactly what it is.”
Capelo glanced at him. “That’s funny. I should think any virus any of us had picked up on Mars would have shown up before now. Like Gruber’s did.”
“There are a lot of mutated viruses whose replicating behavior we don’t understand yet,” Kaufman said, hoping this was true. Biology was not his forte. “Why do you ask?”
“My girls asked. She played with them, and Sudie especially misses her.”
“Well, there will be a lot of new things for them to see down here,” Kaufman said.
“Yes. But I’m glad we have that electronic perimeter. These natives are the same ones that killed two human kids in the previous expedition, you know. Cut their throats. Bastards decided the kids weren’t ‘real.’”
“Yes,” Kaufman said neutrally. He thought quickly. Would it be better to encounter Capelo’s rage, or lose his trust through implied lies?
“Actually, Tom, we’ve had to turn off the perimeter. But we’ve doubled guard patrols and—”
Capelo stopped walking and turned to face Kaufman. In the tunnel shadows thrown by the powertorch his face looked eerily distorted. “Turned off the perimeter?”
“The Worlders have changed their minds and decided humans are real, after all. One of the aliens got badly shocked on the fence. It violates their shared perceptions of reality, which we can’t afford, Tom.”
Capelo said flatly, “Because it’s their planet.”
“Yes, it’s their planet,” Kaufman said, and waited for the explosion.
It didn’t come. Capelo
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