Expendable - James Alan Gardner [113]
“Which is how we usually transport things along Sperm tails,” I told Oar. “When we go from one ship to another, we drop the pressure at the receiving end so things shoot through from the sender. When we go from the ship to a planet, we increase the pressure in the Transport Bay so that it blows us down…”
“This is very boring,” Oar interrupted.
“Also irrelevant,” Ullis said. “If Jelca wants to use a Sperm tail at all, he has to anchor down the far end. Otherwise the tail whips around at random.”
“We all carry anchors,” I reminded her. Landing parties needed anchors to attract the tail when they wanted to leave the planet. Anchors were small enough to fit in the palm of your hand; I had one in my belt pouch, and no doubt Ullis did too.
“So Jelca has an anchor,” Ullis conceded. “What’s he going to do with it?”
“He brought the Sperm generator to this city with a remote-controlled probe drone. If the probe still has fuel, he could load an anchor on board, and fly the probe anywhere on Melaquin.”
“So what?” Ullis asked. “Yes, he can set up a transport tunnel anywhere on planet, but what’s the point? Why would he want to go somewhere else when he’ll be going home anytime now?”
“Unless he’s not going home.” The words were out of my mouth before I gave them a second thought.
“Don’t be crazy, Festina. We all want off this rock. Jelca may be a turd but there’s no reason he wouldn’t—”
“Shit,” I blurted out. The light had dawned at last. “Shit, shit, shit!”
“What?” Ullis asked.
“She is worshiping,” Oar told Ullis in a low voice.
“Oar,” I said, “stay here with Ullis. Ullis, I have to find Jelca for a chat. If I don’t come back in a reasonable time, tell the others everything I’ve told you. And whatever you do, don’t let Jelca onto the spaceship!”
“What’s wrong?” Ullis asked bewildered.
I threw a tense glance at Oar, then grabbed a scrap of paper from Ullis’s work area and scribbled a message.
Ullis gaped when she read it. “What does it say?” Oar demanded.
I didn’t answer; I was already running out the door.
Out of the City
No one working on the starship knew where Jelca was. Someone suggested he might have gone to help with the lark-plane.
I jogged down the boulevard toward the elevator, each footfall echoing off nearby buildings. As I passed Jelca’s quarters—the place where Oar had been crying—I stopped to see if he was there. He wasn’t…but his room contained more clothes of the silvery fabric used in his radiation suit: shirts, pants, even socks and gloves. I wondered if he’d tried piece-by-piece radiation clothing before he made the full suit; or perhaps he wore these as a second layer of protection under the main suit. If nothing else, having “street clothes” made of the same material would help reduce the radiation he soaked up while putting on the full suit inside the tower.
The temptation to search Jelca’s quarters was strong—a thorough search, ripping the place apart if necessary—but I doubted I’d find anything. Besides, I felt an urgent need to confront him. And give him one last chance, said a voice in my head…as if there was still hope he could explain away all his actions. I hadn’t figured out everything yet; the purpose of the second Sperm generator was still a mystery to me. However, I thought I had many of the answers I needed. I just hoped I was wrong.
Athelrod and Walton met me as I approached the elevator to the outside world. They carried glass holdalls containing parts they must have removed from the lark-plane. “Too late!” Walton called cheerfully as he approached. “We’re all done.”
“Not much there that we needed,” Athelrod said. “Still, we got a few design ideas….”
“Have you seen Jelca?” I asked.
“He came by the plane outside, maybe two hours ago,” Athelrod answered. “Didn’t stay long.”
“So he came back down here?”
“No,” Walton said. “I asked him to see if he could fix the glitches in my weather equipment. He’s very good at that sort of thing.”
“So he’s up at your weather station now?” I asked.
Walton nodded.