Iris

'If we—or rather if Bren can decipher the thing's mode of transmission, then it is. Otherwise the USEC people will snatch everything away as soon as they get here.'

'That's assuming that what we find out is something valuable. If only there were a loophole in the laws that we could make use of, either to get ownership of the Artifacts or to cordon off Aello sufficiently to hide the shuttlecraft.'

'Well—Aello's pretty much of a mess right now—it's still in the process of reaccreting the mass it lost when we dug out the ship. Anyway, the minute they get here they will be able to deduce that something mighty strange has been going on there. And since we haven't claimed homestead there, we will probably get into trouble for Aello's disruption.'

'You're just making that up. I certainly don't remember any laws concerning the blowing up of satellites.'

'The pollution laws might apply, if they feel like stretching them.'

'You know, perhaps we should start working on a weapon ...'

'John, you're turning into a regular Attila. Whatever happened to your principles? You want to have a revolution?'

Cornwell smiled to himself. 'There are parallels. But, no, as far as fighting for our finds goes, I would as soon not risk killing anyone. There are other ways of using a weapon than killing. As far as my principles go—well, I don't feel nearly as much of the reverent fear for other people as I did. Maybe I'm beginning to grow up. People aren't fragile . . . maybe I was overemphasizing my own feelings, I don't know. Yet. Anyway, if I've changed, well, fuck it. That's the way it is.' As the MPT performed a propelled hover forty meters over the Ocypetan surface, something rather peculiar was happening below. The ice seemed to be getting whiter, less dim anyway. The complex shadow which moved ever forward about halfway to the horizon now was hiding the small craters and surface irregularities which it engulfed. Though their eyes adapted well and disguised the slow change that was taking place, there could be no mistake for the infrared instrument they were watching.

'Hey,' said Ariane, astonishment showing, 'it's getting warmer!' John pulled himself around in his harness and stole a look at the eclipse. 'Look at that thing! Why the fuck didn't somebody predict this? The atmosphere's acting like a huge lens— sunlight is being focused on Ocypete!'

Ariane formed a link with Shipnet through the Clarke and spent a few moments analyzing the preliminary results of Jana's depth probes of the Iridean atmosphere. 'Jesus Christ!' she said. 'This is just the beginning of the effect!'

And indeed the blotch-sun was very bright inside the almost washed-out blue planet. As the eclipse had progressed, and the light from the sun passed through denser and denser layers of the Iridean atmosphere, the combination of increasing indices of refraction and changing angles of incidence were producing an effect unheard of in asterology, though it was true that an occasional sun dog had been reported from Triton, light making an erratic course through the middle reaches of the Neptunian atmosphere and emerging through a hole in the splotchy upper atmosphere haze to produce a pearl of light in the otherwise Stygian eclipse. But nothing like this. The implications were not a little frightening. Ariane and John were spellbound by the scene: they slowed the MPT and stared at the skyward conjunction.

'What . . . what about the neon?' asked John finally, his thoughts tinged with apprehension. 'It's close to its melting point right now. A few degrees and . . .'

'Exactly. In some places it's going to be pretty messy. There shouldn't be any problems near the center of the ocellus, though.'

'Do you think Jana ...'

Abruptly the thought-voice of Demogorgon was with them. 'Ariane. John. You've already figured out what's happening? We've got an emergency here. The 'net is reporting that some of the equipment, most especially the large superconductor array and the microwave transmitter, will not tolerate exposure to a much dirtier vacuum than we've got now. If the pressure even doubles we're going to have real trouble. Ariane, would you like to get back here to erect a static barrier, or shall I?' The woman cursed. 'I hadn't thought of that. Tem can do it, can't he?'

'He's working with Brendan and they've cut all contact with Shipnet, locked themselves in. You're the only one left. Of course we're dealing with low odds here, but if something goes wrong, well, that would be it.'

'All right, I'm coming back. God damn it. I don't have much experience with this stuff—Brendan could handle that section of Shipnet and have it done in a minute. I guess Jana will have to wait. . . .'

It wasn't cold anymore. The rays of the magnified sun were streaming in through the 60vet's windshield, and Jana felt that she was finally starting to warm up. Just like in the huge window of the old lamasery upon which the Tibetan Observatory had been grafted. After a night of observing through the archaic four-meter reflector, she would go down, frozen to the bone because of some stoic bureaucrats who had decreed that more work could be done in cold temperatures. The sun would eventually break through the mists across the Himalayas and she would bask there until breakfast period was over. She had worn black habitually during those years just to catch the radiation more effectively. It had been good, despite everything.

They should have been here by now, she thought. I'm way past the point where they'll be convinced. A minute passed; another. Somewhere in the pit of her stomach a panic grew. Unless they came very soon she would die.