David Brin - The Heart of the Comet

“Told who ?”

“Bastards in Geneva.”

Virginia hesitated, feeling suddenly cold.

“What’s happened on Earth?”

“If you had more than time of day for your own kin, you would have by now known,” Sergeov taunted her. “We have no one to talk to but each other now… now that Orthos blame us for the diseases.”

“They do not …” Virginia closed her eyes and resolved not to be sidetracked. “Tell me what happened on Earth, Otis. Or this time I really will break your arm.”

The Russian spacer nodded. His voice was suddenly subdued.

“There was coup, Virginia. Hawaii is now under Arc of the Sun.”

“What?” She stared. “But… But that’s impossible! How?”

“Mercenaries from Philippines. Governor Ikeda dead. There is martial law.”

“But the Thirty-second Amendment… the United States has to defend—”

Sergeov shrugged. “Supreme Court of United States met in emergency session, Virginia… ruled that Hawaii, since 2026, is been semisovereign … I think that is proper phrase Means a de facto Arcist government is hokay—so long as it pays federal taxes on time, and keeps external-affairs-nose clean.

“They have already the Percell School closed down. Shut down uplift-research institute and that big tidal-energy project. More is to come, for sure.”

Sergeov came forward, one hand on a rail, breathing intensely. His voice was thick with sarcasm “ Now you see? See why we could have yesterday used your eloquence back on Earth? The case was only six to three, decided. Surely if you had there been, you would have been able to convince them. Or at least could have told them fuck you right into their Ortho…”

He stopped then, because Virginia had already stumbled out into the hallway, pat the hulking decontamination robot, ignoring its monotone request that she submit to its worthless sound-and-light treatment. She moved without destination. blinded by sudden tears, navigating purely by rote.

Things were getting bad.

Carl drifted on a tether, waiting for Saul Lintz to show up. He was glad for the break.

In the last few days he’d learned to take his rest where lie found it—in little cat naps and food breaks, using every slack moment to let his muscles forget about what he was putting them through. There wasn’t time to get mechs into place for most jobs, and a lot of it they couldn’t do anyway.

Good old grunt work , Carl thought. Only it’s different if your life depends on it.

In a way, he was glad he wasn’t running things. Major Lopez, who barely concealed his distrust of Percells, had all the headaches. Fine. Let him sweat .

There weren’t enough hands to control the green gunk algae, much less the big forms. Bethany Oakes was busily unslotting people to help out, but that took time. He had heard things weren’t running well down there, either. Some unslotted ones were angry at being reawakened early, and then scared of catching the whatsits diseases running around.

Not that he could blame them. He had a new guy on his crew, a husky Norwegian named Veerlan, and already the sniffles and coughing were starting. The man had been out only thirty-five hours, hardly even fit for heavy work yet.

“Is the team ready?” Saul’s voice came to Carl out of a foggy blur. Saul landed stiffly on fiberthread nearby and hooked a line to a stay.

“Ah… yeah. Not much of a team, though.”

“How many?” Saul seemed alert and ready, even though long fatigue lines rutted his face. He carried a bulky machine strapped to his back.

“Four.”

“Including you?”

“Yeah.”

“Um…I don’t know…it’s going to be pretty cumbersome.”

“I’ll call mechs.”

“I’ve already had Sergeov tell Virginia. She’ll send some as soon as possible.”

Carl felt a hot spurt of irritation. “ I’m in charge of mechs in this quadrant.”

Saul’s mouth tightened. “Look, this is an emergency—”

“I’ll call Virginia. This isn’t your lab, Lintz. I call the shots down here.”

“All right, be my guest. Call.”

“Well… yeah… I’ll patch through while we’re on the way.” Carl shook his head slightly, as if to clear it. “You’ve got the spec frequencies?”

Saul tapped his vest pocket. “Right here. Took all night.”

“This better work.”

“I hope it will.”

“Hope isn’t near good enough.”

“I can’t guarantee—”

“Listen, we’re down to a dozen, maybe fifteen able-bodied. They’re dropping faster than we can unslot ’em, I hear. I’m using men who’re groggy from work—like me—and women with noses running in their suits, coughing into tissues they’ve wadded under their chins. I mean…” He sucked in air, his eyes squeezed tight, expelled a tired breath. “It better work.”

Saul nodded sympathetically. “Ley’s go then.”

They met Jeffers and Sergeov and Lani in Shaft 3, where it had all started. The shaft was well lit so they could see to work, the phosphors glowing like regularly spaced advertisements along a dark highway that dwindled away into the yawning distance.

The party hung like dots of color, each suit a different primary, against the pink fiberthread background. From a lateral tunnel came a large, asymmetric bulk, towed by mechs. Three extras trailed.

—Virginia freed ’em up,—Jeffers said happily. —Makes it a whole lot easier for us now.—

“Yeah,” Carl said. He felt irked that Saul had gotten mechs quickly, without Virginia even asking for approval. And he hadn’t had any mech backup this whole damned shift, until brilliant Saul Lintz and his miracle cure came on the scene. “About time.”

I don’t suppose I’ll cry any if this doesn’t work , Carl thought, and then immediately rebuked himself. No, that’s stupid. You’re really getting worn down.

Jeffers must have been just as tired, but he grinned and wisecracked as he wrestled gear toward the target area. His angular face gave no hint of how he felt about being awakened into hell.

Both Jeffers and Sergeov still had shadowy slot eyes. Carl said to them, “Don’t bust your butts, guys. Easy does it.”

They checked the mechs’ securing cables and pivoted the array to move up the center of the shaft. Telerobots had towed the microwave-digger assembly, minus its tripod mount, all the way down from the surface. Without its legs it lost its former spidery grace and became merely another lumpy machine, pipes and struts sticking out at odd angles.

Ahead, the smooth surface of the tunnel was broken by purple strands jutting into the vacuum.

—They’re not moving,—Lani said. Beneath her high, melodious voice there was an undercurrent of fatigue.

—How long has the air been gone from this shaft?—Saul asked.

—Days,—Jeffers answered.

—And the temperature is down? Then the purples may be dormant.—

—What’s ’at?—Jeffers asked fuzzily.

Saul glanced at Carl questioningly, as if to ask, Is he groggy?

Carl shook his head. We’re all tired, so what? We haven’t been sitting on our asses in a lab all this time.

—The larger forms apparently were stimulated by leaking heat at the intersections,—Saul sent, —where the collar makes contact with the ice. But once they broke through, looking for more heat, they hit a bonanza. The air warmed them as it rushed out, and the forms kept growing—for a while. Now it’s almost as cold in here as the ice, so they’re dormant again. Mostly.

—Uh-huh.—Jeffers stared straight ahead, somewhat blearily chewing at his lip, and Carl couldn’t be sure the man had understood any of it.