Still, I was getting rained on. Which wouldn't bother a Quinlan, but irked my human-raised brain. And I wouldn't be able to smell a stream in this mess. Sulking loudly, I marched off toward the town and the near distance.
It was interesting that all the transit stations were outside of towns. And it wasn’t like the towns or the stations had been moved. The towns were on the best possible spots on the river, so it was doubtless where they were supposed to be. The stations… well, how would you move them? Perhaps this was a Quinlan psychological thing. They couldn’t be like humans in every thing. Maybe they didn't like transit stations up in their face or something. It was just one of many many questions that we were accumulating, and might or might not get answers to someday.
It was very late in the day and was beginning to get dark. I probably wasn't in danger from the local wildlife, but I would have to stop moving if I wanted to avoid their attentions. A bed in town sounded best. I dropped to all fours and put on some speed.
Renting a room was an experience. I was beginning to get a hint of why Bridget had decided on a sabbat as our cover - sabbats were common, and there was a whole section of the economy dedicated to servicing that particular market segment. Single travelers though, not so much. I had to try three hotels before I found a vacancy. I'd tweaked my features slightly, preferring to mix it up rather than constantly walk around with the same face. I was up early the next morning, not bothering with breakfast or the accompanying breakfast beer? Yech.
I headed straight for the river. The mountains were only a few miles away, and swimming would get me there much faster than a land approach. I decided to deliberately overshoot the estimated location of the entrance, preferring to approach it from behind in case there were surveillance cameras. Again, I have to assume that the habitat had been set up with normal levels of civilian security in mind, rather than a military defensive strategy. Cameras would probably be limited to surveilling the road up to the gate.
Assuming it wasn't all wet with my deductions than the habitat would have been originally designed not to hide the entrance from the populace, but to hide it from view, to maintain the illusion. Also, the entrance wouldn't be too hard to get to for staff. That would put it as close as possible to the river, consistent with the rising land providing space for an underground maintenance complex. Because Quinlans. It would also almost certainly have at least some kind of basic security, so I wouldn’t be able to just walk up and turn the handle. But that's what roamers were for, right?
I swim upstream until I was at the point where arable land ended and pseudo-rock started. Up close, I could tell the material of the mountains was clearly not natural rock. In fact, it had somewhat the consistency of volcanic pumice. Probably an engineered version, and probably light-weight, since that would matter in the rotating shell. The coloration was artificial and designed to resemble random terrain from a distance.
Then I floated slowly downstream, hugging the shore, examining the rock, looking for… something. And lo and behold I found… something. Pumice is hard, but it's light because is mostly air bubbles. And wears. I don’t know how many generations of Quinlans had been using this particular path to the water, but it was enough to have worn it smooth.
I grinned to myself and climbed out of the water. Success. Well, probably success. One additional concern would be whether or not the Resistance had set up surveillance of the entrance. They might or might not allocate someone to the task. They might or might not use electronic means. Of course, too much of that might tip off the Administrator, so they might stay as low-tech as possible.
I was going around in circles again. I could have spent all day speculating and not determine the truth of it. So, at some point, you just had to pick. I decided on boldness. I spit out all my spiders and directed them to examine the area around and in front of me as I advanced. Within a minute, the trail terminated at a blank wall. No cameras and evidence. I thought of the Mines of Moria and muttered ‘Friend’ with a grin. No effective, of course - Tolkien had no power here.
Roamers did, though. I ordered the spiders to do a close-in survey and released my fleas as well. My devices would find everything there was to be found, and meanwhile, I would get some sun.
It was late afternoon and the sun was disappearing behind the mountains, creating a premature local dusk, when one of my fleas reported a find. A small design glitch had caused a stress fracture where the pumice layer was only an inch or so deep over the underlying structure. The flea had found a ventilation tube, and was asking permission to cut into it. I granted permission and sent the other fleas and to help.
The thing about security doors is that no matter how much electronics you add, in the end, there's a latch, connected to a mechanical linkage, actuated by a magnet or motor, powered by electricity, which is controlled by a switch. And the roamer design included the capability to act as a conductor, if necessary, without frying the unit. Very handy for circuit testing and repair. And for espionage, as it turns out.
My devices also found a sensor that would report the opening and closing of
