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much of a chance depended on circumstances. I didn't like that prospect.
Sounds cruel, but it wasn't. With really good divers scarce, the
Guard couldn't afford to have them whittled down on rescue attempt after
attempt. And we weren't organized for massive assaults. All in all, a second
attempt was worth it, but not a third.
If necessary, the Tribunes would regretfully order a planet-busting.
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They had done so before. Be less messy if I recovered Patrice and
Derron.
"Briefing?" I asked, mentally trying to catalogue what I might need to take
along.
Heimdall tapped several studs on the console, got up, and pointed to the
display.
"Restricted," he explained. I didn't question that, although I
probably should have.
I sat down in his stool, on edge about his standing behind me, and watched the
script and holo shots unfold in front of me. Patrice had blown it. Obvious
even to a dunderhead like me. You take it easy with planetary cultures that
build lots of structures which can be seen from space.
Toltek was too regular. The forests, rivers, coastlines fit into a definite
pattern. Any culture which shaped a planet for aesthetic purposes had one Hell
of a lot of power to spare.
"Stinks," I commented to Heimdall, more to get his reaction than to state the
obvious.
"Forego your rescue and recommend immediate destruction?" he asked in a level
tone.
Common sense said yes, but I wasn't about to be the one who decided to destroy
an entire planet. "No. I'll see what I can do."
According to the data Patrice had recorded, the air was breathable, if high in
water vapor and oxygen. The temperature was a touch high, and gravity heavy,
but not enough to bother me. I needed a small
Locator pack to trace Derron's and Patrice's shoulder tags, plus demolition
cubes to cover our tracks if I succeeded.
"When are you leaving?" Heimdall interrupted my planning with his
question.
"As soon as I gather what I need," I replied, slipping off his stool and
heading out the archway toward the ramps.
I stopped by Maintenance to pick up a small laser cutter and some spare power
cells in case Derron and Patrice needed them. I sent
Brendan over to Locator to pick up the portable locator packs and told him to
meet me at the Travel Hall with them.
I reached the Travel Hall before Brendan and began to assemble what
I needed. Compromise was the order of the day. I started with the black
bodymesh armor I'd worn to Sinopol and put it on under a standard jumpsuit. I
added the laser to the equipment belt, plus a stunner, some additional
ration-packs, and a knife.
By the time I finished, Brendan arrived with the locator packs.
"Ferrin says good luck."
I had to grin. "If you see him

don't make a special trip

tell him that luck is a luxury too chancy for me."
Brendan just nodded. Seldom could anything I said surprise him.
I ambled out into the Travel Hall from the equipment room, taking my time.
Finally, I dived, smashing through the time-chill and arrowing out and
back-time toward Toltek.
I took a flash-look at the planet from altitude. Patrice's holo hadn't
conveyed the greenness of the place, from the green atmosphere, to the long
green grassy stuff that covered the regular fields, to the persistent green
cliff walls that outlined the symmetrical green sand beaches.
After three, four, five flash-throughs around the edges of the daylight
cities, I had not gotten a glimpse of a native, although the evidence of
continuing planetary maintenance was everywhere evident.
Nocturnal
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that was my next thought. I flashed through the undertime, nightside, and was
rewarded when I passed over a beach on the nightside, I came back for another
look.
Several figures were standing on the glowing green sand under the stars. I
stood on the sand, silently, for several units trying to make out the shapes

definitely not humanoid.
Abruptly, I was seized and shaken. That's what it felt like, but there was
nothing around. Just as suddenly I was tossed head over heels onto the sand.
My whole body vibrated. The shaking and the high-pitched whine that
accompanied it made concentrating hard as Hell, but I knew if I didn't slide
quickly, I wasn't going to be sliding or diving anywhere. I
managed to blot out the distractions and stagger undertime. As soon as
I did, the shaking and the whine disappeared.
Too close

way too close.
As usual, dumb old Loki had slid right in and announced, "Here I
am." I hung in the undertime for a subjective unit or two to try and get an
impression of the Toltekians.
Not humanoid, that seemed certain. Through the time-tension barrier, I could
make out a solid "trunk" with pseudopods, I thought, propelling it, and with a
fringe of tentacles at the top. The "trunk" glistened like the cliff walls
around the beach, which made me think it was solid.
I plunked myself over to an isolated spot on Faffnir, settling on a
knoll above the lifeless black sea. I sat down on a raised and smoothed chunk
of ironglass which probably dated back to the fall of High
Sinopol.
In the atmosphere of quiet antiquity, in the afternoon light of
Faffnir, I began to put together what little I'd picked up.
Item:
Toltekians were nocturnal non-humanoid.
Item:
I was assuming the beings I'd run into were Toltekians.
Item:
They had picked up my appearance within unit-fractions and shaken Hell out of
me.
Item:
I had barely managed to think my way undertime with the scrambling my thoughts
had taken.
Item:
Most divers wouldn't have gotten clear.
My first guess was energy projection, but I hadn't felt the power, and with my
sensitivity to high-energy concentrations, I should have.
Second guess was directed sonics. If the Toltekians were a sonic-
based culture, that would explain a number of things. They could have picked
up my arrival, my breathing, and reacted. I postponed further thought while I [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]