Bill nodded and took up the story. “On the other hand, an investigative strategy might net is good results in less than a decade, at least according to Hugh.”
“Based on what?” Bridget frowned at Bill. “You can't possibly have any statistics to work from.”
“He kind of does. Population of Heaven’s River. Number of people we can contact per year. Number of people who will hear about us per year. It's a networking-theory thing. Eventually there is more than a 50-50 chance that we will either contact someone or be contacted by someone. Hugh says less than a decade.”
“Hmph.” Bridget shook her head. “Okay, fine. I'm not thrilled with the alternative timeline anyway.”
“And hey, if anyone wants a break, I’m available,” Will said grinning. “That downstream thing looked like just too much fun.”
I stood, signaling the end of the meeting. “We have six hours until we’re scheduled to wake our Mannies. Take care of whatever you need to.”
18. Not Part of the Plan
Will
June 2334
Quinn
I pulled myself off the rack, staggering slightly. The proportions of the Quinlan Manny would take some getting used to. I was examining the not-insubstantial claws on my hand, when the other Manny opened its eyes.
“Hey Howard.” I held up a hand. “Check out these crazy nails.”
He gave me a frown. “You gone hippie on me, Riker?”
I grinned at him, and he smiled back. “Thanks for inviting me, Will. I admit I'm curious about Bridget's project, and her description of the swimming was more enthusiastic than she generally gets about things.”
I signaled the drone to open the cargo door. “No prob, I’m curious too. Although I also have a responsibility to practice, in case I’m called up. That's my story anyway.” I gestured to the door and we walked out together.
I'd parked the drone in a different city, somewhat larger than the one Bob and Bridget had visited. And a good deal more messed up. We’d have to avoid areas with too much radiation - even the Mannies were immune to the damaging effects, but just about anything else could be ignored.
I wanted to get a cross-section of the types of warfare that the Quinlans had waged on each other. This city had been pounded by explosives, maybe missiles, maybe dropped bombs. Not kinetic, though - those wouldn't have left much to examine.
The city had likely been a capital, or at least a major hub of some kind. It had that all-roads-lead-to-Rome feel about it, at least from the air. The Quinlans had used rail for overland transport, and there were a lot of rail lines leading here. The city also larger blocks, with more widely-spaced waterways. I wondered if that was an efficiency thing, or if they just needed the bigger blocks for some other reason. According to Bob and Bill, the Quinlan psychology seem to be very human-like, but I was reluctant to over-extrapolate.
We walked up to the nearest canal and inspected the contents. It didn't seem too bad. Certainly not as oily and turgid as Bob had described on their excursion. If anything, the canal seemed to have a surprisingly robust current.
“Looks nice,” Howard said.
“Real estate is less damaged than what you'd expect,” I replied.
“Bridget took a tissue sample and had it scanned. Huge viral load, and the Skippies modeling indicates it was likely an engineered virus.”
“So, biological warfare on top of everything else?”
“Mmhmm. It looks like the entire population had a tantrum and started throwing everything they had at everyone they could. I'm surprised they managed to get to this stage, technologically.”
“Maybe it's a population density thing?” I grunted and change the subject. “I searched for a good undamaged canal. With the pounding this city received, some have been filled with debris or even had their waterflow blocked entirely. I figure we shouldn't get too adventurous.”
“Sounds good. Shall we?”
Without waiting for an answer, Howard dove in. I followed immediately and spotted him, already disappearing into the distance. I pursued, tail and arm flaps working in concert.
Howard glanced back without turning his head. “This is definitely worth doing, I could sell this. See the ruined world of the Quinlans, quake at the site of blasted cities, gaze in awe at the-”
“I dare you to try and get that past Bridget.”
Howard laughed. “You’ve got me there - she'd flay me alive. Okay, so maybe not tours of the Quinn ruins, but even if we just copied the Mannies and put them on Vulcan… hmm, maybe not.”
“What?”
I could hear the smile in Howard's voice. “Vulcan has that dinosaur theme, and it carries in the marine life. Lots of big hungry native critters.”
“In the rivers, maybe?”
“Maybe. Have to look into it.”
We swam in a companionable silence for a few more minutes, stopping to examine a couple of submerged wrecks. I imagined the experience would be a lot like scuba diving, except every video I'd ever seen of humans underwater show them as slow and ungainly, struggling to push themselves to the water at a snail's pace. The Quinlan forms moved more like otters, or maybe penguins, since the Quinlans didn't quite have the sinuous flexibility of otters.
“Curious, the current is surprisingly strong here,” Howard said. “The city didn't seem to have that much of a grade.”
“Um, I'm not an expert but that seems like more of a concern than a curiosity.” I sounded like a wet blanket, even my own ears, but I’d developed an attitude from terraforming Valhalla that ‘unusual’ equaled ‘bad’. Exceptions had been rare.
“Sure, okay. It's stronger over here, I'll just have a - yipe!”
Aaaand this would not be one of those exceptions.
“Howard, what happened?”
“I'm - oof - being sucked down - ow! - a tunnel of some kind. Wait, there's light up - oh, shit.”
I sent
