Cold Fusion - Lance Parkin [95]
As Whitfield examined the panel again, the switches and levers began to make a little more sense. Unsure why, she slotted across one of the toggle controls. A string of numerals clacked into place on a digital readout.
‘What are these?’ She moved aside so that Adric could study the numbers.
The young mathematician tried to point out different areas of the equation, although the handcuffs restricted his movements. ‘These look like space-time co-ordinates. I think that they represent the Machine’s last journey. Those are the co-ordinates of this planet, I recognize them from when we landed. I... don’t recognize the others.’ He was lying.
‘We don’t have starcharts here. I’ll have to access the archive at the Scientifica.’ She pinched the control on her wrist communicator. There was no response. She asked the computer to explain the fault.
‘Planetary weather conditions are affecting communication signals. Please try later.’
Whitfield dialled up a weather report.
Technician Kalraymia rubbed her eyes and looked up at the monitor again. It was the time of day when the foredroids rang in their reports. Although robot workmen did all the heavy labour these days, the roles were that a human had to supervise their work. This one was a battered Class G maintenance ’bot that had been in service for four decades. Somehow, over the years, it had avoided all the routine personality overhauls. It had eccentricities that the Scientifica would not tolerate in a human being.
‘Morning, love. Foredroid VKU474Y. Works Number: Twelve Alpha X. Location Pryanishnikov Waystation. Job: Clearance to Scientifica Works Standard Three Kappa Pi Alpha Zed.
‘Go ahead with your report.’
‘Ta, petal. Work to bring the Waystation back online is proceeding to schedule. We’ve dug the mass grave, and half filled it. One hundred percent of the designated trees have been felled, eighty-seven per cent of the brickwork has been repaired. The skitrain station and line are open, and we’ve restored power, water and information supplies.
Work to the main waystation building has been hampered by the materialization of the manifestations, but I confidently predict that we’ll reach target and the station will be operational again in three hours’
‘The weather looks pretty rough out there,’ she said, trying to make conversation. Behind the robot’s triangular head there were stormclouds. Living in the Strip, Kalraymia never saw the raw weather they got out in the frostlands, the weather control system on Icarus Skybase saw to that. Kalraymia shook herself awake. ‘Wait a second: what do you mean “manifestation”?’
The robot paused for exactly a second before responding, it took Kalraymia slightly longer to work out why.
‘Didn’t you hear me, love? We’re online for a bonus this financium.’ Maintenance droids only ever had one thing on their mind.
‘I heard you. Answer the question.’
The droid folded three of its arms. ‘It’s in the main building. Could you at least try to be a bit friendly-user?’
This was going to take a long time. ‘What is in the main building?’
‘Don’t panic. Mind your suit, you don’t want to rip it, believe me.’ ‘
Nyssa edged a little further down the rim of the crater.
It was uneven ground, with lots of sharp, flat stones. ‘Chris, I’ve just lost enough explosives to obliterate a galaxy.’ He had insisted that she looked for the bombs before returning to the freighter for the medical supplies. The snow around his wound was pink with blood.
‘The box was sealed up pretty tight. A magnetic clamp doesn’t just slip off.’
Nyssa looked back She had retraced their footsteps, but as Nyssa had speculated she must have dropped the box during the robot’s attack. It had fallen down with it, and it could be under a mountain of rubble. Above them, the sky was seething, oily black cloud blanketed the sky as far as she could see in all directions. The cloud hadn’t been like that when the freighter was in flight.
‘The radiation detectors on our suits aren’t picking up a leak. The box is