Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [231]
By now his lead engineer, Tabitha Huck, had already launched her unmanned explorer drone; since it would take almost an hour to descend to the appropriate depth, he should have enough time to talk to the reticent Hroa’x.
Sullivan wandered around inside the huge skyfactory complex. Apparently Ildirans weren’t overly concerned with external security; none of them paid him much attention, until he stopped one to ask for directions. It was a woman, bulky and broad-shouldered, her features just a bit too alien to be attractive to him. “Please tell me how to find your chief skyminer Hroa’x. We’re old friends.” She looked at Sullivan as if assessing whether to answer his question, then pointed up a steep metal stairway.
Inside a humid and noisy chamber, Hroa’x was inspecting the pumps and compressors that throbbed like the slow heartbeat of a sleeping giant. The skyminer looked at his human counterpart. His eyes were heavy-lidded with lack of interest. “I do not have time to give you a tour today, Sullivan Gold. Your business here will have to wait.”
Sullivan conjured up his most winning smile, which had never failed to tip negotiations in his favor. Though the chief skyminer had not raised his voice, Sullivan needed to shout above the din. “Oh? Even if it’s an emergency?”
“Is it?”
Sullivan shuffled his feet. “Not really, but I’m sure it’s something you’ll want to see. Trust me!”
The small communicator at his hip chimed. “We’re in position, Sullivan,” Tabitha Huck said. “Shouldn’t be long until we close in on those anomalies.”
Sullivan gestured to his Ildiran counterpart. “That’s even faster than I expected. Come on, Hroa’x. I’ll explain on the way up to your control center.”
The Ildiran miner grudgingly led the way to a high tower nexus where dozens of Ildiran technicians and crewmembers operated monitors and the long, trailing sensor-whiskers of the big facility.
“After looking at the logs, we estimated the depth at which your Adar Kori’nh encountered the hydrogues. Considering that forty-nine warliners sacrificed themselves, we assumed there might still be some wreckage that had descended to an equilibrium depth in the vicinity. Our first wave of tiny scanners found several floating density anomalies, and so today my lead engineer sent down an unmanned explorer drone capable of providing real-time imagery.” His eyes sparkled. “We might even be able to see the wrecked warglobes. Wouldn’t that be something?”
Hroa’x turned to him. “Why would you wish to do that? You are a skyminer, not a military officer or a rememberer.”
Sullivan worked with one of the Ildiran technicians to adjust their screens to the appropriate band. When they began to receive the explorer drone’s signals, the screen showed only swirls of clouds and vapors, barely distinguishable from random static. “Your military commander sacrificed himself and a lot of battleships to drive the hydrogues from Qronha 3. It was…a historically significant event. We can witness part of it here.”
“I am not a rememberer. It is not my task.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met anybody as single-minded as you.” Sullivan tried a different approach. “On Earth, about five centuries ago, we built a fabulous luxury ship called the Titanic, which was considered the greatest passenger vessel of all time. But it sank in a supposedly unreachable portion of our oceans. Because the Titanic was such an intriguing icon, lots of explorers made risky descents into the depths just so they could see the wreck. The ship grew into a cultural fascination, and finally it became a memorial.”
The skyminer’s expression did not change. “I fail to see any relevance to our situation.