Blood of the Cosmos (42 page)

Around them, Arita saw sparks of light, like random meteors darting through the thick branches. “I've always loved to watch the fireflies,” Arita said with a sigh. During certain seasons, it was a ritual. She and Reyn would go out to see the light show, counting insects like stars in the forest.

“This might not be what you expect,” Sarein said. “Keep watching.”

More streams of fireflies emerged from nests in the trees. Arita watched them with a smile. Even more insects swirled out until the air was filled with sparks, a shower that kept building. And still more.

Arita gasped. “I've never seen so many.”

“Oh, they're just getting started.”

Indeed, the fireflies soared out of their hidden nests, more and more—thousands and then tens of thousands. The luminous insects flitted around like raindrops in a downpour until the night was filled with sparkles. Arita had never seen anything like this firefly storm. “What causes it?”

“You're the one who likes to study nature.” Sarein just stared, looking uneasy. “It started when the Gardeners moved out here. Things are changing in the worldforest.” She frowned more deeply. “Theroc is disturbed.”

 

CHAPTER

68

KOTTO OKIAH

The ideas no longer came to him as they'd always done before, and that knowledge jabbed like a constant knife in Kotto Okiah's heart. Fortunately, no one else had realized it yet.

Thanks to his legendary reputation, Kotto was allowed to do whatever he wanted; the Roamer clans assumed he must be working on some miraculous discovery that would change their lives forever. The Roamers put him on a pedestal, gave him a blanket approval to do whatever projects he wished. But he knew he hadn't made any memorable breakthroughs in a decade or more … and every day he feared that somebody would notice.

He wasn't trying to deceive the clans, but his fellow Roamers were blinded by their own faith in him, and he couldn't live up to their expectations. Not anymore.

He joined Shareen and Howard in the laboratory station, surprised by how much the two had accomplished. He remembered when the ideas had flowed like that, when everything had seemed so straightforward and simple! Both young lab assistants were ambitious and eager to learn, but Kotto was no longer sure he knew how to teach them.

“We just cleaned up and fleshed out the mathematics you set forth, sir,” Howard said as Kotto skimmed their summaries. “We followed through on some of the partial derivations and finished them for you. I hope that's what you wanted?”

Kotto gave him a quick nod, trying not to show his embarrassment. “Yes, exactly so. Many of those concepts were in development, but I set them aside when other priorities pulled me away. I could have brought them to fruition myself, but it seemed like good training for you two.”

“We saw a lot of false starts and dead ends,” Shareen pointed out. “Were you testing us to see if we'd pick up on the missteps?”

Though Kotto's mind was spinning, he hid his confusion. “I've never had real lab assistants before. I didn't know what to expect from you two, and those notes were a way for me to measure your abilities and assess how well you could solve problems—because that's what Roamers do.”

“I'm not a Roamer,” Howard said.

“Nobody's perfect,” Kotto said, “but I'm glad you've done so well despite that handicap.” He skimmed to the conclusions, felt his pulse speed up. “I can't wait to look these over in more detail.” He cleared his throat, not wanting them to ask him any detailed questions. “I'm awfully busy with the Big Ring, dozens of meetings and inspection flights. Forty new space workers arrived from Newstation in the past week.” He made a vague gesture with his hand. “But I need to occupy you with something. Go through the rest of my project notes and choose whichever project you think might be the most useful. Something you can bring to fruition. I'll even share credit if you can make a functional prototype.”

Shareen sounded astonished. “That would be excellent!”

“Thank you, sir,” Howard added.

Shareen turned to her friend. “It may be a challenge to decide on something important. I can't imagine any practical use for most of them.”

Kotto frowned. “Each is a proof of concept to be expanded to more significant uses.” He hoped they didn't ask for more of an explanation.

Anxious to recapture his old genius, Kotto made a habit of writing down any stray thought in hopes that it might amount to something. Every fragment of an idea, every flash of potential genius might connect with something else and become a truly significant breakthrough. But it had been a very long time.…

He wasn't sure how long he could continue to ride on past successes. Kotto was growing desperate, afraid that any day someone would accuse him of being a fraud. A has-been.

“We'll choose one concept and finish it,” Howard said. “Maybe several, if that's all right with you, sir?”

Kotto brightened. “Of course.”

Shareen gathered her courage and spoke up. “But isn't the Big Ring project more important? It's the last month before the test run. Howard and I could go over your calculations, recheck the designs, just in case?”

“No, I don't think so,” Kotto said, a little too quickly. “It's a very large plan and much of it is in my head. I don't have time to explain the big picture.” He worried that these two might indeed find some missed step or inaccurate calculation if they looked too closely. “Just be patient.”

Outside the lab's large windowport, the gigantic torus was abuzz with activity, constructors and survey pods and supply docks at either end of the nearly completed ring.

The Roamers had poured a vast expenditure into the gigantic physics project, simply on his say-so, believing that it might be the foundation of a new wormhole transportation system, or even just a landmark pure-science experiment that would reveal the fabric of the universe. The Big Ring was Kotto's last chance, perhaps a remarkable encore for the greatest Roamer scientist who had ever lived. He certainly hoped it wasn't a debacle.

Although Kotto wasn't entirely sure what to expect, he reminded himself that was what science was all about, conducting experiments and analyzing the data. After all, if the results were known beforehand, why conduct an experiment in the first place?

Anxious to be out of the lab, he took the transcribed notes, mumbled a “goodbye and good work,” and went back to his private quarters. There, feeling some trepidation, he sat at his desk and reviewed what Shareen and Howard had done. He tried to follow how they had gone through his sketchy and incomplete concepts, yet so easily found solutions to derivations that had stumped him for years.

He flipped through the neatly organized proposals. To his embarrassment, some of the concepts were too ridiculous or esoteric for the lab assistants to do anything with; Shareen or Howard had marked them with question marks and apologies. As he scanned them, even he couldn't imagine what he might have been thinking at the time. Tears burned his eyes and he wiped them away in frustration. He had kept such careful notes over the years, and now that his mind was devoid of inspiration, now that he was losing touch with that scientifically creative muse who had blessed him so many times in his life, Kotto had no recourse but to mine his old unfinished work, hoping that others wouldn't recognize how stale it was.

The most important possibility in the notes, he felt, was a logarithmic relay-charging system for the energy films used in power blocks. He had banged his head against the bulkhead for years, trying to make that idea work. He knew the solution was there, right in front of him, but he was blind to it. He would struggle with the mathematics, start again and again, but he remained stymied.

But now, in only a matter of days, Shareen and Howard had found his misstep and completed the entire design. It seemed so easy for them! He heaved a deep breath and tried to calm himself.

In his youth the ideas had come like a firestorm, so many that he hadn't even bothered to write them down, sure that more ideas would always come, that he would never have enough time to complete all the inventions already in his mind. How he cursed himself for that hubris, and how he wished he had just a few of those ideas now!

He looked back at the notes Shareen and Howard had fixed, as if the two were taunting him. Tears continued to flow even after he wiped them away. Kotto felt so empty, so sad, as he stared at the cleverly organized calculations. He tried to recapture that spark, but he felt nothing.

So many others lived their lives without ever having a single flash of inspiration, without ever experiencing a brilliant thought or creating any kind of innovation. Who was he to complain, when he had already done more than most other Roamers?

And yet, now it seemed a much greater a torment to
lose
the genius he once had, than never to have had it at all.

 

CHAPTER

69

GARRISON REEVES

After responding to the request for experienced space workers, Garrison took a few days to make certain Seth was happily ensconced in school, then he flew the
Prodigal Son
out to the Fireheart nebula, where he offered his services as part of the Big Ring project. With his copious skills in space construction, engineering, life-support systems, suit maintenance, the project chiefs accepted him without reservation.

He had worked in Iswander's Sheol lava-processing facility, he had shepherded dangerous lunar fragments around Earth, and he had served at the CDF shipyards to repair the numerous vessels damaged in battle against the Shana Rei at Plumas. With his r
é
sum
é
, he was in great demand.

Hundreds more new workers had arrived for the final stages of the giant construction project. When he docked the
Prodigal Son
and checked in, he was immediately approached by Station Chief Beren Alu. “Everybody wants to work on the Big Ring, Mr. Reeves, but we have extensive work opportunities at Fireheart—some of our projects desperately need help. Would you consider a different assignment, at least temporarily? You're certainly qualified.”

“The Big Ring is what brought me out here,” Garrison said.

Alu's face fell, and he stroked his long mustaches. “That's what everyone says, but we've got to be practical. Fireheart is a business operation. The isotope sifters bring in a lot of outside money, but they're mostly automated. I've got crews working overtime just to keep up with packaging the power blocks. At the moment, our biggest need is mounting then retrieving the absorptive films in the collecting farms. For months now, all new power blocks have gone straight to Kotto's project, and I've got outside customers clamoring! The profit margin on those things is how Fireheart keeps running. We need your help.”

Garrison doubted Fireheart Station was on the verge of bankruptcy—in fact, it was one of the wealthiest of all Roamer installations—but he could see the stress on the station manager's face. “We have to fill the orders and pay the bills. Would you consider working on the power-film farm for, say, double the pay?”

Garrison could tell the beginning of negotiations. “I really wanted to put the Big Ring project on my r
é
sum
é
.”

Alu snorted. “Why do you need a r
é
sum
é
?”

“To get jobs like this.”

The station chief sighed. “All right. Work on the power farm for a week, put in overtime, help me fill four large outstanding orders. After that, maybe we can split your time.”

“After that, I want to be assigned to the Ring construction teams.”

Alu looked defeated. “A week, and then we'll talk.”

Even with the inferno of ionized nebula gases around him, Garrison felt quite at home at Fireheart Station. It had been a long time since he'd felt so engaged in his work. Important work, and something he would remember for a long time … even if he wasn't here with Orli and Seth.

Drifting in open space surrounded by ionized gases, Garrison felt dizzy not to have any anchor point. He had checked his environment suit himself, measured the rain of radiation from the nebula's hot keystone stars, and knew he would be safe for three hours at least.

“Heads up, Reeves!” said his coworker Bowman Ruskin.

The two of them moved steadily along, unreeling sheets of gossamer fabric that was kilometers on a side, but only a few molecules thick. When bathed in stellar radiation, the sheets charged with energy, and once saturated they were packaged into dense wafers incorporated into power blocks. The delicate sheets required skilled labor to be stretched and mounted, where they would hang inside the storm of radiation for days.

Dismantling crews detached the charged films and folded them, again, again, and again, more than a hundred times until they were packed into a container less than half a meter on a side. One primary power block could power a colony town for half a year. More commonly, though, the energy-dense sheets were cut into pieces and sealed in much smaller packages to run households, ships, and other personal needs.

Garrison said, “I usually don't let my thoughts wander, Ruskin, but with a view like this…”

Ruskin laughed in the suit comm. “You never get used to it—but you do have to get your work done. A tear in the fabric would ruin the whole power block. Even a wrinkle creates a hundred headaches—and the worst part is that you'd have to listen to Beren Alu complain about the lost revenue.”

“I hear you,” Garrison said, and Ruskin let it drop at that, much to his relief. Olaf Reeves would have lectured him for an hour about the same thing.

Around them, numerous suited workers mounted power-absorbent films to soak in the cosmic wind. Roamer trading ships came and went through the nebula's dust barrier, carrying Fireheart's specialized materials and products off to numerous markets.