righteous.
'Okay. Contact somebody over there. Explain our situation, and tell them we stand by to assist any way we can. I'll turn Hutch around and send her back up if it'll help.'
Janet hesitated. 'Okay. But I doubt they'll want any help from us.'
'Offer, anyway.'
She took a long breath. 'I'll get right on it.'
Moments later, he had audio contact with Hutch. 'What can I do?' she asked innocently.
'Stand by. We might have a rescue mission for you.' And, to the tunnelers: 'It's closing fast. Just seconds now.'
Henry watched it race across those last few kilometers, a shining white bullet. It blasted into the space station, and both vanished in an eruption of white spray. 'Impact,' he said.
Sandy let out her breath.
The picture slowly cleared, while excited voices asked for details. Incredibly, the orbiter was still intact. It had developed a wobble, but it was still turning at the same unhurried pace.
Ten minutes later, Janet reported back. 'They said thanks. But they're doing fine.'
Below the sea floor, George and Carson worked with a particle beam to extend their tunnel. They were beneath the outer wall of the military chapel, attempting to chart the best route to the printing press. George was nothing if not conservative, and no amount of urging by Henry or anyone else could persuade him to embrace unnecessary risks. Consequently, they installed braces and proceeded with all possible caution. 'I'd like to get back down there as much as anybody,' he told Henry. 'But common sense is the first priority.'
George knew the general direction of the printing press. He employed the particle beam with increasing impatience, and he was tired. Shortly they would go back, George to rest, and Carson to relieve Henry at the monitor. Sandy and Richard would take over the digging, and Henry would man the pumps. In fact, he could already see the flash of lights in the tunnel.
And something else. A reflection, on the silt. Carson picked it up. It was a piece of smooth rock, a tablet, about eight centimeters across, flat on both sides. 'It's got writing on it,' he said. He brushed it, examined it in the lamplight. 'Something on the back. An image of some kind. A spear, maybe.'
He held it up for the camera, and they transmitted pictures back to Seapoint.
'Hell.' Henry got excited. 'Look at it. It's Linear C.'
'Bingo,' said George. 'Jackpot.' He turned it over and squinted. 'What is it?'
The reverse pictured what appeared to be a long, tapered rod, spade-shaped at one end, heavy and thick at the other. 'It's a sex organ,' said Sandy, with an oblique laugh. 'Fully distended and ready for battle.'
Maggie's voice came from the ship: 'Funny how some things seem to be universals.'
'Damndest chapel decorations I've ever seen,' said Carson. Maybe there was a brothel in the area. 'Did the Quraquat have brothels?'
'Yes,' said Sandy. 'And the Noks as well. Seems to be a fixture of the advanced male, regardless of species.'
The important consideration was that they had another sample of Linear C. And there might be more. While Richard and Sandy took over the tunneling, Carson and George began a search. George had little enthusiasm for the hunt, but Carson seemed tireless. Within an hour, they had recovered a small trove of tablets, and other, mostly undefinable, objects.
Five of the tablets, including the original, were sexually explicit. Others contained arboreal and sea images, and one depicted a sailing vessel. Several lines of text were engraved on each. They were too worn to make out, but restoration might be possible. One by one, George displayed them to the camera.
He was about halfway through when Maggie's voice came on-line. 'These are superb, Henry.'
'Yes,' said Henry. 'They are quite good.'
'Can we go back to that last one?' she asked. The tablet depicted a disembodied, fully erect male member protruding through a wreath. There was also a line of symbols curved around the perimeter. 'We know some of these,' she said. 'Marvelous.' Nobody made a joke of it.
George showed them another one. 'Good,' breathed Maggie.
And another.
'Let's see that again,' Maggie said. Another sexual theme, straightforward this time: a simple coupling. 'We didn't get a very good picture of the text. Both sides, George. Give us more light.'
There was a single term atop the amorous pair.
'What are these things?' asked Carson.
'Probably decorations,' said Maggie. 'Doesn't matter, for now.' Then she started. 'Henry, can you see that? The title term?'
The word at the top of the tablet was from the inscription atOz.
'Damn!' Henry was ecstatic. 'Richard, are you there?'
'I'm a little tied up at the moment.' He was on the beam projector.
'George, show that one to Dr. Wald.'
'No question about it.' Maggie bubbled with excitement. 'It's not identical, though. The Oz inscription has an additional character, and the letters are differently formed. But that's purely stylistic. I'll be more certain when we can get it cleaned up. Six of the symbols match perfectly. If we don't have the same word, we should have the same root.'
'You're right,' said Richard. 'It's lovely.'
'I think,' said Sandy, 'this building is distinct from the chapel. Frank's probably right about the brothel. Sex may have been part of the rituals.'
'Okay.' Richard was speaking to Maggie, and examining the tablet. 'What does the word mean?'
'Sex,' said Maggie. 'Or ecstasy.'
'Where does that leave us?' asked Henry. 'This way to a hot time? Is that what the Oz inscription says?'
Richard shook his head. 'It need not have a sexual connotation,' he said.
'I agree,'.said Sandy. 'The word could mean love. Or fulfillment. Or release.'
'Or,' suggested George, 'ships that pass in the night.'
Kosmik Station. Friday; 0030 hours.
Truscott looked up at the sound. 'Come.'
Sill entered. His eyes were fierce, his lips drawn into a scowl.
She pushed back from her desk, and swung round to face him. 'What have you got?'
'It wasn't a snowball.'
'We already know that.'
'We've retrieved some of it. It was a polymer.'
She nodded. 'It was manufactured,' she said.
'I don't see what other conclusion we can draw. And since there's no one here except the Academy people—'
Truscott laughed. Not her usual measured chuckle. Her heart was in this one. And, when he only looked on in surprise, she reproached him. 'Come on, Sill,' she said, 'where's your sense of humor?'
He reddened. 'I don't see what's funny, Melanie. They've created a lot of trouble. People could have been killed.'
'Yes.' Her eyes fell away from him. 'They've paid us in our own coin, haven't they?'
Temple of the Winds. Friday; 0200 hours.
The tunnel resisted their best efforts. The mud was tougher to deal with than the rock. However much they sucked out, it kept coming back in. Carson, on Richard's private channel, confessed that it was useless.
Detonation was eight hours away.
Too close.
The base was quiet. Eddie was gone now, banished to Wink, ostensibly because his services were no longer needed, but really because he kept asking Henry to give it up, and to reassign Carson to help move artifacts. Hutch was off again and would rendezvous with the starship in another hour. When she returned, they were all to be
