She was calculating storage space on Alpha. 'Listen, we may have to cut down the size of this next shipment a little.'
'What?' He sounded wounded. 'Why?' he asked again.
'Because I'm going to take two barrels of poly-6 with me.'
Eddie was horrified. 'There isn't room.'
'We'll make room.'
'What on earth for?'
'I'm going to use it to say hello to Melanie Truscott.'
An hour later, Alpha climbed toward orbit, carrying Hutch, Janet, Maggie, Karl, and Maggie's number one analyst, Phil Marcotti. Also on board were twenty-nine containers filled with artifacts, and two barrels of poly-6 components.
Maggie Tufu turned out to be younger than Hutch had expected. She'd heard so much about the woman's accomplishments, that she was startled to discover Maggie was probably still in her twenties. She was tall, taller in fact than either of the men. Her black hair was full and luxuriant, worn in a twist that was probably designed to make her look older. Her eyes were also black, and her features retained much of the Micronesian cast of her forebears. If she'd been able to loosen up, to smile occasionally, she would have been lovely.
She tended to set herself apart from the others. Hutch did not sense arrogance, but rather simply a preoccupation with work. Maggie found people, and maybe everything except mathematics and philological theory and practice, boring.
Her colleague, Phil Marcotti, was a beefy, easygoing extrovert. About forty, he enjoyed his work, and was among those who would have preferred to stay until they'd recovered what everyone was now referring to as 'George's printing press.' He confided to Hutch that, if he'd had his way, nothing short of armed force would have moved the Academy team. Curiously, this amiable, happy man was the most militant among Henry's true believers.
Maggie took Hutch's right-hand seat. During the ascent she tied into the auxiliary computer and busied herself with rows of alphanumerics. 'In one way, we're very lucky,' she told Hutch. 'We don't get as many Linear C samples as we'd like to. Of course, you never have enough samples of anything. The language is just too old. But a fair amount of what we do get comes with illustrations. We have the beginning of a vocabulary.'
'Really,' said Hutch, interested. 'Can you show me some examples?'
'Sure. This' — a cluster of characters appeared on the screen—'is 'sun. They were letters, not ideograms. And that' — another group—'is 'moon. ' She smiled, not at Hutch, but at the display. 'This is 'hoe. »
'Hoe' said Hutch. 'How did you arrive at that?'
'The group was used to illustrate an epigram about reaping what you plant. I think.'
Karl stared moodily out at the clouds. His eyes were distant, and Hutch wondered whether he was thinking about his future.
Janet fell asleep within minutes after their departure. She was still out when the shuttle nosed into its bay on Wink.
Hutch calibrated the B ring spin to point one gee. They unloaded the artifacts, now only a tenth of their planetary weight, and carried them through double doors into Main Cargo. Here, Hutch passed out footwear that would grip the Teflon deck. The storage area was wide and high, spacious enough to play basketball. They crossed to the far bulkhead, and secured the containers beside the two earlier shipments.
Main Cargo had been designed to stow heavy excavation equipment, large quantities of supplies, and whatever the Academy teams deemed worth bringing back. Except for the shuttle bay, it occupied the entire ring. It was compart-mented into four sections, each equipped with outside loading doors.
When they'd finished, Hutch conducted a brief tour. She took her passengers to A Deck, pointed out their cabins, showed them the lounge and rec facilities, demonstrated how the food dispensers worked, and joined them for dinner. They drank to their new home. And they seemed to brighten somewhat.
After they'd finished, she took Janet aside. 'Are you interested in a little payback?' she asked.
Janet looked at her curiously. 'What are we talking about?' Then she smiled. 'You mean Truscott?'
'I mean Truscott.'
She nodded. 'I'm willing to listen.'
'There'll be a risk.'
'Tell me what you have in mind. I'd love to see her get hers.'
'I think we can arrange it.'
She led the way back to B ring. Full ship's gravity, which was a modicum over point five, had been restored. The outside loading doors were located in the deck. In each of the four cargo sections, they were of different dimensions. She'd picked the No. 2 hold, where they were biggest, large enough, in fact, to accommodate an object twice the diameter of the shuttle.
Hutch inspected the doors, satisfied herself they were adequate to the task, and explained her idea. Janet listened skeptically at first, and then with mounting enthusiasm. By the time Hutch had finished, she was grinning broadly. 'I don't think I'd want you mad at me,' she said.
'If we get caught at it, we'll both wind up out on Massachusetts Avenue with tin cups.'
'Will they be able to figure out who did it?'
'Maybe. Listen, I owe you. And I wouldn't want to be responsible for your getting into trouble. I'll understand if you want to keep clear.'
'But you can't do this alone.'
'No. I can't.'
'I wouldn't miss it. The only real problem I can see is that we won't be able to brag about it afterward.'
Hutch was feeling pretty good. 'It's a small price to send Melanie Truscott a message from the downtrodden.'
'Can we really do it?'
'Let's find out.'
She cut gravity, and they went to the shuttle and retrieved the two barrels of poly-6. They hauled them back to No. 2 hold and put them in the middle of the deck, which is to say,
centered over the cargo doors. Next Hutch went back for the connector hose and gun.
Now that she was committed, Janet showed no hesitation, had no second thoughts. Good woman to have at your back, Hutch thought.
'We have to have something to start with,' Janet said.
Hutch had the ideal answer. 'Sit tight,' she said. She went up to A ring, to the rec locker, and got one of the medicine balls.
Janet broke into a wide smile when she saw it. 'The very thing,' she said. She had connected the hose to each of the barrels and to the gun.
Hutch put the ball down and stepped back. She eyed the dispenser. 'Would you like to do the honors?'
'Delighted.' Janet pointed the instrument at the medicine ball. 'Just what the doctor ordered,' she said wickedly, and pulled the trigger.
White foam spurted out, coating the deck and the ball. The ball rolled away. 'This might take a while,' she said.
'Not once we get started.'
The ball lost its roundness quickly, and became an uneven, white chunk of hissing foam.
The object expanded as a natural result of mixing the polymer content in one barrel with a water-activated isocyanate in the other. It was designed, once it had set, to resist extreme temperature changes.
They took turns, and learned to back off occasionally to let the chemical dry.
It got bigger. Even when they weren't drenching it with fresh spray, it grew.
It grew to the size of a small car. And then to the size of a garage. And they kept pouring it on.
It got so big they could not reach the top, and they brought over a container to stand on. The thing had gone lopsided, long and wide rather than high. Bloated at one end. 'It looks like a dead whale,' said Janet.
Hutch fired again. 'Born to the poly gun,' she said, laughing.
'The thing's a monster!'
