Timothy Zahn - Angelmass

Qhahenlo nodded. "Two things. First of all, the data you got from the Gazelle are perfectly correct: there have indeed been fourteen instances of unusual radiation pulses recorded over the past eighteen months. None of them anywhere near this strong, but definitely there."

"How strong are we talking about?" Gyasi asked.

"Extremely," Qhahenlo told him grimly. "The one Mr. Kosta recorded was strong enough to kill a huntership crew right through a sandwich-metal hull."

Gyasi gave a low whistle, turning to look at Kosta. "Not your crew, I hope."

"No," Kosta said, shivering with the memory. "But we were close enough that it could have been."

"Which brings me to the second point," Qhahenlo said, tapping keys. "We're still analyzing your data; but at the moment it looks as if that conical low-radiation zone is an artificial construct. Here's the picture we've come up with." She swiveled the display around for him to see.

Kosta frowned at it. The central fuzzy line of the main radiation pulse was still there, but the outer cone had been replaced by a strange, almost random-looking mottling. "That doesn't make sense," he objected. "The radiation data came out symmetric despite the fact that the Gazelles path curved all through that region."

"Which is obviously why your computer fitted a cone shape to it," Qhahenlo nodded. "This more sophisticated analysis was able to take into account the fact that your sampling was very limited in both space and time. It was also able to fit it closer to known black hole theory."

Kosta looked at her sharply. "What do you mean, fit it closer? Shouldn't you be taking the data on its own merits and seeing where it leads?"

"We did," she said. "But you have to understand that there wasn't all that much there, by the nature of your experiment's design and the incident itself. If we run it parallel to the theory, on the other hand, we can get a more likely explanation."

Kosta pursed his lips. It was, he had to admit, a fairly standard technique. Not much more, really, than a sophisticated version of curve-fitting. And under normal circumstances he would have seen nothing wrong with it.

But here, for some reason, he did. And didn't know why. "So what did the theory-fitting tell you?" he asked, fighting hard to stay open-minded.

Qhahenlo shrugged. "About as I expected," she said, tapping keys to bring up some numbers. "Best guess is that what we're seeing is a radiation self-focusing effect, probably triggered by a sudden influx of gravitational energy."

Kosta leaned over the desk, studying the figures. It did, indeed, seem straightforward enough: a significant mass, falling in toward Angelmass, would release gravitational potential energy as it fell, pushing some of the radiation streaming from the black hole over the threshold for self-focusing.

And yet... "Where are we assuming this triggering mass came from?" he asked. "Angelmass isn't big enough to get all that much gravitational energy from."

"True," Qhahenlo agreed. "And the self-focusing effect won't last all that long, either, so it gets a little tricky. We're assuming that the trigger is coming from the affected hunterships themselves—something dropped, or maybe something coming from the drive. We're looking into it."

"Mm." Kosta rubbed at his lower lip. "I don't know. That surge lasted an awfully long time."

"Oh, there's no doubt it pushes the edges of the theory," Qhahenlo nodded. "But I don't think it's going to take too much to fit it in. The tricky part will be to figure out what the trigger mechanism is and how to keep it from happening again."

"Is there enough data for that?" Gyasi asked.

"I don't know," Qhahenlo said. "Ideally, we'd like to have the exact configurations and operating procedures from each of the ships this has happened to. Try to find some common factor in the incidents. Whether we can get that or not I don't know, particularly with those that occurred more than a month or two ago. I presume we'll be studying the wreckage of the Hova's Skyarcher, too, once EmDef retrieves it. That should tell us something."

"And what happens until then?" Kosta demanded.

Both of them looked at him. "I'm not sure what you mean," Qhahenlo said.

And here's where it hits the blades, Kosta thought, bracing himself. "I mean I'd like to go ahead and publish this," he told her. "At least as a preliminary report. I think it's important that the huntership crews know what's happening out there."

A slight smile twitched at Qhahenlo's lip. "And you're worried the Gabriel Corporation may take exception to you stirring up trouble?"

"Why would they?" Gyasi put in before Kosta could answer. "You've found a problem no one else has noticed. They're more likely to thank you for pointing it out."

"Oh, of course," Kosta snorted. "Corporations always appreciate someone showing them up as incompetent or negligent."

Gyasi shook his head. "You're missing the point, Jereko. This is Gabriel we're talking about here.

They can't act that way."

"Why not?" Kosta demanded. "Because they provide a vital service?"

"No," Qhahenlo said. "Because they deal with angels."

Kosta looked at her, feeling his arguments catch somewhere halfway down his throat. "But the corporate heads don't actually handle the angels themselves."

She nodded. "Yes, they do. Every single one of them, every single day. That was one of the first conditions the High Senate set up when Gabriel was created, precisely to make sure that the standard corporate fixation with bottom-line profits didn't take hold there. And it worked. Gabriel genuinely cares about the health and safety of its employees, including the huntership crews."

"Translation: go ahead and write it up," Gyasi murmured.

Kosta took a careful breath. "All right. I will. In fact, if you'll both excuse me, I'll get started right now. Thank you, Dr. Qhahenlo, for running the data for me."

"You're welcome," Qhahenlo said, nodding gravely. "We'll keep you up to date on what's happening."

"Thank you," Kosta said again, rounding the desk toward the door. "Hopefully, I'll have my credit line back in a couple of days and be able to keep track of it myself."

"I'm sure you will," Qhahenlo assured him.

I was sure, too, yesterday, Kosta reminded himself as he headed down the quiet corridor toward his office. But that was yesterday, and yesterday he didn't have information the Gabriel Corporation might not want people to hear. It would, he decided, be very interesting to see their reaction when they saw his paper.

And to see what, if anything, they did about it. To the hunterships, or to him.

The wrench slipped and clanged against the edge of the access flange, narrowly missing Chandris's knuckles in the process. "Nurk," she gritted, lowering the tool and flexing her fingers. "It keeps coming off."

"That's because you're not setting the line-lock solidly enough against the connector," Hanan told her, his voice calm and soothing. "If it's tight enough, it won't slip."

"Well, I can't do it," Chandris growled, offering him the wrench. "If you can, you're a genius."

"Hardly," Hanan huffed. But it was a pleased sort of huff. "Let me show you."

Chandris stepped aside, maintaining her frustrated scowl as Hanan busied himself with the wrench.

His hands, she could see, were still not a hundred percent steady; but she could also see that her modified little-miss-helpless routine was doing wonders for his morale. With any luck, he wouldn't catch on to what she was doing until his nervous system had gotten back in synch with the exobraces' electronics.

And when that happened, it would be time for her to leave.

"There," Hanan grunted, stepping back and gesturing with a slightly shaky hand at the wrench handle protruding from the access hatch. "Try it now."