He Without Sin (9 page)

I don’t feel well. Carol says it’s nerves. Mark says I
need a cocktail. Grigor says it’s too much work and
pressure. Dylan says to see the doc, who says it’s a
minor reaction to the treatments we’ve all
received, those of us who are part of the first
ground crew. He says rest, read, write, sleep;
whatever relaxes and calms you. Porter says, in his
unique way, to get to work. He’s right.

Doing inventory helps. All my gear is in order. Really there’s not that much to carry on my person;
a little more to set up my ground quarters work
area. But even so, what’s forgotten can be ordered
for the next trip down. We are told that Mark’s ‘fab
lab’ equipment will be set up as soon as possible. And then needed items can be made right there on
the surface.

One last sweep of the ship’s systems; current states
and codes all logged and archived. I can monitor
these from the surface too.

Sleep helped. A nap can be a wonderful thing. I had
an odd vivid dream about drowning. I was in
shallow water near a shore. There were waves but
not large ones. I was doubled over, face down; I
could touch bottom easily, and if I tried I could
stand up and breathe. But the strange part was
that I was OK not breathing. I had no desire to
stand nor was I in distress. Not OK with drowning mind you, but OK with the current state—like I
said, odd. Then the second strange thing: Someone
waded into the water, grabbed my arms and / or
shirt and hoisted me up and onto my feet. I turned
to see who it was and saw…me. Told you—weird
dream.

Part II

Surface

Another deep breath; the air is thick and rich. The red-orange glow of bright daylight through eyelids is glorious. The heat of the sun on my face—it’s been a long time. The occasional gust of wind has a bite to it but no matter. After the monotony of the uniform and unchanging shipboard climate the heat and cold both bring the pleasure of sensation, of being part of a real world again. It’s exhilarating.

“Snap out of it and give me a hand, will you?” Mark is smiling as he asks, and tilting his head upward takes a deep breath as well, and another. The contrast in environments between the sterile confines of the ship and this fresh organic world cannot be larger. “I smell flowers somewhere.”

“It’s probably me,” I joke. Looking around at his chosen base site, I see barren rock. A jagged and rough location with little to no sign of vegetation. There are no flowers and not likely to be any nearby. “This is the spot, eh? It’s isolated all right and no flowers.”

“There’s something for sure on the wind, coming from the lower elevations no doubt, but it’s there. I need to get around and see what’s what but not until all this is up and running.” Mark is referring to his fabrication and processing facility. Using the natural formations in several cases, he has created a number of closely situated enclosures, one of which is my tiny home on this world.

“They seem pretty flimsy for any kind of longevity,” I say already knowing that they will suffice for whatever work needs to be done. I don’t mean to insult. I just want to keep the conversation going.

Mark gives me a look but doesn’t speak right away, as if asking himself, “Is he kidding?”

“Although, our quarters are sturdy enough for our purposes,” I add as a palliative. “How in the world did we get all of this equipment and material in the ship?” I ask, now more serious.

“We didn’t,” he answers as we walk toward what he earlier called his command cave. “You’d be surprised how complex a structure can be built from just a few simple components, if you have enough of them. We carry with us a couple of small fabricators for the purpose of making what we need on-site out of local materials with local energy sources.”

Now in his work area, he says, “Look here at these four little items: I can make these now at will. They are what all this is made of,” he says, pointing around and overhead and then hands me the pieces. I look. They are light structural components, simple in design.

I look back at Mark, “All this? Where are these pieces used?”

“Look around again, they are everywhere. They can be made in to a door, a wall, a table. What do you want?” He walks to the door, takes back the handful, and shows how pieces of the same design are part of the frame construction. “See? They are the same pieces. It’s just a matter of adjusting the dimensions to suit. Longer, shorter, different connections. You add this sheeting component to span the large areas and there you have it. Boom—that’s a door. There’s a door. The sheeting is really the same material, but thin and plain with no edge treatment, and can be lapped over itself to make any size panel. Cool huh?”

Oh, he’s in his element now. “Yes, cool. Doors, walls and…everything?”

“Look, we carry digital models for every component we can foresee needing, and can modify existing design for those we can’t. One fab unit can make repair parts for another unit should one fail, or it can make parts for the runabouts or lander; it’s really a tight system. While I can make inorganic parts to suit, Doc has a similar but different gizmo to put you or me back together as well if need be.”

“Speaking of that, did you receive the want list from the Hobbe? David wants to know.”

“Yes, priority one. As soon as we are completely set up, the needs of the ship are first on the schedule. We have to make sure we can get out of here and get home. Although…” Mark leaves an opening that I don’t follow and choose to ignore, for now, while we step outside to see the source of an overhead sound.

The thrill of being out of doors, the expanse of it all, dominates my attention. It’s still there but I hardly notice Mark’s limp anymore. It sure doesn’t slow him down any.

We walk toward a sheer rock face and sit on a boulder seemingly conveniently located for that purpose as the vehicle arrives. I see it’s the larger of the two models, the transport, and David’s not in it. “Wait, David took the small one? What’s up with that?”

“He had to; I need the carrying capacity to bring in resources on the transport. Priority one—I told you. He is off somewhere with the other unit scoping out the bio camp parameters and location. I’ll be able to divert some, but not many, of my resources to his work to keep him happy. In any case, we are going to be here a long, long time, by my reckoning, even if there are no glitches. Plenty of time.”

“Perfect. I mean the progress so far, not the long stay,” as I get up. Why did I say that? I don’t care about the length of the stay, within reason. As long as we make it out someday, I’m good. I check my genie for the runabout, the one that David has and get a quick status from it; all systems good. I have no reason to contact David directly at this time although I am curious as to what he is finding out about the natives. It might be too soon. “These guys been reporting any interesting native contacts yet?” I ask, referring with a nod to the transporter crew.

“All kinds,” says Mark and adds, “mostly plants and simpler life—the place is teeming with it. Until David’s OK we are under a strict hands-off policy.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Oh, you mean the other…” Mark pauses for effect and then adds, “Oh, they’re out there all right.”

Pre-landing analysis showed a safe environment in general, but there is still reason for caution. The areas we’ll be working in need to be checked carefully. We need to know what ‘unexpected problems to expect’ as most of us heard during a short speech from Master Brachus before we landed. Brilliant.

I am startled to hear, “Hey, where are the portable assay units?” from off to the side and behind us a bit, which I thought was solid rock wall. Mark doesn’t blink and silently indicates his work shop.

“Relax, why so jumpy? We are safe here,” he says to me. “I‘ve made sure that there are no easy ways into this area. He’s one of us!”

“Yes, but why sneak up on us like that? And where the hell did he come from?” I answer, annoyed. I’ve taken a look around our site and see that the raw rocky site has more than a few spots where a person on foot could come or go. And there are nooks, crannies and crevices galore, including one just off to our left.

“Craig’s probably still checking nearby for any useful outcroppings.”

We see him, Craig Brown, now looking back towards us with his palms open and a questioning expression on his boyish face. He has to be older than he looks, because otherwise he wouldn’t be eligible to enlist. The freckles and mop top only accentuate the impression.

“I told him they were there but didn’t tell him I have the only access. Hee. The fun never ends. Later.”

“Wait, didn’t you need help with something?”

“Nah, I’m good. Forget it.”

Mark gets up and casually walks toward Craig, who shakes his head when he no doubt senses Mark’s amusement at his expense.

My official data logging and archiving functions are
primarily automatic. If there are any flags, I have to
manually resolve the issue, but that’s that. What
I’ve found through experience is that there are a
large number of possible problems with a complex
system, not restricted to networked data systems
like ours, but any complex system. The distribution
of problem types is such that they lend themselves
very well to analysis. Once you understand the high
frequency problems, know how to address them
and, hopefully, prevent them, you are left to deal
with lower and lower frequency problems. End
result: manual intervention is required rarely. Once problems start to repeat and you recognize them,
things start getting easier right away.

The field reports are coming in, formats are good,
and nothing more needs to be done by me. I’ve
looked at a few. The freeform parts of the resource
team’s submissions are pretty bland. Not much
there. Realistically, most of their data comes
through from their instruments, so what’s there for
them to add? Dylan is the exception; he notices
things and likes to comment. Wes’ comments seem
like so much gibberish to me, but I may be biased. It’s hard to believe he has any standing at all, but
there he is. Mark’s reports are professional, to the
point, and regular. He’s a good writer.

I do follow David’s reports—these reports I am
mentioning are all public record by the way. His
reports are interesting. He likes to comment too. He’s called me down at next light to see what he’s
set up for his bio work. He’s made contact.

Bio Camp

“I’m going to ask Mark to put together another flyer. You Ok?” David asks.

“Whew! Yes. Man, the air is really thick and sweet down here!” This is my first trip to the lower elevations. We’re at roughly 3 East and 27 North. It’s not far from base— which we are using as zero longitude—but what a change! The higher density of the atmosphere coupled with the humidity make for a marked difference from base camp conditions.

After a quick orientation inside we have made our way out of the concealed landing and camp area and stand now in the midst of an alien and yet somehow familiar world. It’s overwhelming and I am disoriented at first.

“You’ve checked this all out?” I ask, gesturing vaguely at the greenery all around us and probably betraying some anxiety.

David looks at me, and then looks around with me as if he perhaps remembers when he saw it all for the first time.

“Yes and no. This area has been explored and cleared for our use by me personally, along with help from Groth and Seaborn. But, it’s a foreign world; don’t go sticking your hand into the underbrush or random holes.” He looks at me again as if silently evaluating my potential for getting into trouble.

“Where is your test area?”

“We are standing in the middle of it. You saw the central camp and lab where we landed. But out here, this is the main part.”

I take my time and do another visual scan of our surroundings. “I’ll be careful.” I see now that the landing spot and small work area are indeed well-hidden. As a start, we circumnavigate the entire hidden central area and then I follow David’s lead as we move out and into the wild.

“When here, or at any field site really, take care. I haven’t run into a large predator, but we’ve seen evidence enough to know they exist. This test area has been isolated and a reasonably secure perimeter is established but it’s a large expanse; we may have missed something or some creature may find its way in without our knowing. Don’t wander around out here without protection. Speaking of that, you are using the spray on any exposed skin I hope?”

I nod. The occasional breeze signals its approach via the rustling of leaves and branches long before we feel the effect, if any, here at ground level. The temperature is warm but not unpleasant. We can hear the sounds of myriad creatures, some near, some far. Some fly and flit from branch to branch, others leap. I haven’t yet seen any ground dwellers, nothing larger than a bird, but David assures me I will. Some of the plants are incredibly like home, and catch my eye. Others are unlike anything I’ve seen before.

“We are evaluating the possibility that at least some of the fruit is edible,” says David as we emerge into a more open area. He stops and turns to me. “What I meant before is that your protection is the number one priority. Do not hesitate to disable or kill if you get attacked. Having said that, our primary bio mission here on the surface centers around the hominids.” I raise my eyebrows in question, but nod to show that I heard. “Yes, we’ve made contact. More than that—I’ve done some preliminary testing.”