their home world. We don't need it. Polyphemes gossip and gabble like nobody's business. You can bet your ass and hat that if the whole species is in trouble, any Polypheme you run into is likely to know about it. I don't want all the Chism Polyphemes. I just want one, and a chance to pull information out of it."
"How would you do that?"
"Don't you worry your head. I got my methods."
"I would be concerned by that statement, but for one thing: you have no Polypheme."
"Not yet. But I think I know a way to snag me one. Only thing is, it's going to take a few more hours of work before we know what we got."
"Indeed? Then a few more hours is what you will have. Not, I should add, for your benefit but for my own." Julian Graves surveyed the group. "I am sure it is hardly necessary to point out that we have gone from a paucity of ideas as to where we are or what we should do next, to a superabundance of theories. It is perhaps also unnecessary to remark that when three suggestions appear equally plausible, there is a better than fifty-fifty chance that any given one of them is wrong. I will inform you tomorrow of the result of my deliberations."
Julian Graves stood up and left the chamber. It was obvious that he was in no mood for further discussion, but Hans Rebka hurried out after him.
"Councilor, I know you have not yet made a decision but I want to point something out to you. It would be absolutely criminal to permit Darya Lang to head down to the surface of Iceworld unless someone who knows what he is doing goes with her."
"It certainly would, Captain Rebka." Graves turned in the doorway. "Your concerns are noted. They are, however, premature. I request that you, like everyone else, wait until tomorrow before you jump to conclusions. Please do not pursue me further."
A wave of his arm, and the door closed.
Hans Rebka was left alone in the corridor with another mystery to ponder: How could somebody with so little idea of danger be placed in charge of an expedition so far beyond the boundaries of known space?
CHAPTER NINE
The parting of the ways.
Louis Nenda was out of the meeting chamber almost as quickly as Hans Rebka. He, however, had no thought of pursuing Julian Graves. His interest was in returning to the Have-It-All as fast as possible.
He left Atvar H'sial to make her way back at her own speed, and as soon as he was in the corridor leading to the ship's computer center, he was calling, "Hey, how are you doing?"
His question was intended for Kallik and J'merlia. The doorway, however, was blocked by the massive body of Archimedes. Rebka was presented with a view of the Zardalu's midnight-blue hind end.
He kicked at one of the thick tentacles and tried to squeeze past. "Kallik? J'merlia? What the hell's going on here? I didn't tell you to let Archie push his way in."
"With respect, Master Nenda, Archimedes did not enter unsanctioned." J'merlia's voice came from beyond the mass of leathery flesh. "Kallik and I invited his presence."
"Why'd you do a thing like that?" Louis pushed, and the Zardalu wriggled a little to one side. "Archie doesn't know a damn thing about Bose nodes."
"That is true." J'merlia, in the absence of his dominatrix Atvar H'sial, tended to speak too much rather than too little. "Archimedes knows nothing of such things, nor does he need to. Kallik and I completed that phase of the analysis more than an hour ago. As you instructed, we began with the data bank from the ship of the dead Polypheme. It contained many thousands of Bose point references within the Sag Arm, many of which doubtless follow the Polypheme custom of providing spurious data to confuse other would-be users. We sought to eliminate those from consideration by correlating them with star positions. We argued that although Bose transition points in empty space certainly exist—such points led us across the Gulf—the ones in a navigation catalog are likely to lie at reasonable sub-lightspeed travel distance from habitable
"How would you do that?"
"Don't you worry your head. I got my methods."
"I would be concerned by that statement, but for one thing: you have no Polypheme."
"Not yet. But I think I know a way to snag me one. Only thing is, it's going to take a few more hours of work before we know what we got."
"Indeed? Then a few more hours is what you will have. Not, I should add, for your benefit but for my own." Julian Graves surveyed the group. "I am sure it is hardly necessary to point out that we have gone from a paucity of ideas as to where we are or what we should do next, to a superabundance of theories. It is perhaps also unnecessary to remark that when three suggestions appear equally plausible, there is a better than fifty-fifty chance that any given one of them is wrong. I will inform you tomorrow of the result of my deliberations."
Julian Graves stood up and left the chamber. It was obvious that he was in no mood for further discussion, but Hans Rebka hurried out after him.
"Councilor, I know you have not yet made a decision but I want to point something out to you. It would be absolutely criminal to permit Darya Lang to head down to the surface of Iceworld unless someone who knows what he is doing goes with her."
"It certainly would, Captain Rebka." Graves turned in the doorway. "Your concerns are noted. They are, however, premature. I request that you, like everyone else, wait until tomorrow before you jump to conclusions. Please do not pursue me further."
A wave of his arm, and the door closed.
Hans Rebka was left alone in the corridor with another mystery to ponder: How could somebody with so little idea of danger be placed in charge of an expedition so far beyond the boundaries of known space?
CHAPTER NINE
The parting of the ways.
Louis Nenda was out of the meeting chamber almost as quickly as Hans Rebka. He, however, had no thought of pursuing Julian Graves. His interest was in returning to the Have-It-All as fast as possible.
He left Atvar H'sial to make her way back at her own speed, and as soon as he was in the corridor leading to the ship's computer center, he was calling, "Hey, how are you doing?"
His question was intended for Kallik and J'merlia. The doorway, however, was blocked by the massive body of Archimedes. Rebka was presented with a view of the Zardalu's midnight-blue hind end.
He kicked at one of the thick tentacles and tried to squeeze past. "Kallik? J'merlia? What the hell's going on here? I didn't tell you to let Archie push his way in."
"With respect, Master Nenda, Archimedes did not enter unsanctioned." J'merlia's voice came from beyond the mass of leathery flesh. "Kallik and I invited his presence."
"Why'd you do a thing like that?" Louis pushed, and the Zardalu wriggled a little to one side. "Archie doesn't know a damn thing about Bose nodes."
"That is true." J'merlia, in the absence of his dominatrix Atvar H'sial, tended to speak too much rather than too little. "Archimedes knows nothing of such things, nor does he need to. Kallik and I completed that phase of the analysis more than an hour ago. As you instructed, we began with the data bank from the ship of the dead Polypheme. It contained many thousands of Bose point references within the Sag Arm, many of which doubtless follow the Polypheme custom of providing spurious data to confuse other would-be users. We sought to eliminate those from consideration by correlating them with star positions. We argued that although Bose transition points in empty space certainly exist—such points led us across the Gulf—the ones in a navigation catalog are likely to lie at reasonable sub-lightspeed travel distance from habitable
Similar Books
