Hex (12 page)

“The thought has occurred to me.” Andromeda favored Kyra with an encouraging smile as she turned her chair toward her. “You have a theory, I take it?”

“Umm...” Kyra glanced at D'Anguilo. Her former teacher nodded, and she went on. “I've lately reread Dyson's original paper... the one he wrote back in the mid twentieth century, on searching for infrared sources in the galaxy as a way of detecting extraterrestrial civilizations. He said that an alien race might go to the effort of building something like this in order to solve two problems: overpopulation and diminishing energy resources. Such a habitat would not only meet all the population needs of the ones who built it, but they'd also be able to capture all the energy emitted from its sun.” A rueful smile. “Dr. Dyson later insisted that he was only joking, and he was rather embarrassed that these things were eventually called Dyson spheres. I would love to see the look on his face if he could only see this.”

D'Anguilo raised a finger, politely interrupting her. “Another scientist of the same period, Nikolai Kardashev, devised a classification system for advanced alien races. According to the Kardashev scale, the
danui
appear to be a Type II civilization... one capable of harnessing the entire energy output of its native star.”

“Uh-huh.” Kyra nodded in agreement. “By comparison, humankind rates as a Type I civilization... but just barely... because we've learned how to harness the entire energy resources of our own planet. And a Type III civilization would exploit the energy of an entire galaxy...”

“I understand.” Andromeda tried not to sound impatient. “So what are you getting at?”

Another nervous glance at D'Anguilo, then Kyra rose from her seat and walked across the bridge until she stood in front of the wallscreen. “Let's assume Dyson was right,” she continued, pointing to the image of Hex behind her, “and the
danui
built this place in order to deal with overpopulation and the subsequent rise in energy demands. If our estimates are correct, there are six trillion hexes here, with thirty-six trillion biopods among them, and each biopod is a thousand miles long.” She shook her head. “Even if the
danui
bred like crazy, it's doubtful that they'd need all this space just for themselves.”

“It's certainly scary to think that they would,” Andromeda murmured, and both Melpomene and Anne chuckled at her dry comment. “I'm following you. Go on.”

“So...” Kyra shrugged. “Why not call the neighbors and invite them over? Throw open the doors and let them in?” Again, she gestured toward Hex. “Like I said, there's more than enough room... and they'd have the entire energy output of a star, too.”

Andromeda blinked, trying to absorb what Kyra had just said. It was utterly mind-blowing to think that a civilization would go to the effort of building something like Hex, only to practically give it away to any other race capable of getting there. It would be like humans placing an enormous sign above Coyote: INVADE US, PLEASE! As harebrained as Kyra's theory seemed, though, it appeared to fit what they'd already observed: six starbridges in orbit around the Dyson sphere, with alien vessels freely coming and going.

“I'll take your theory into consideration.” Andromeda shifted uncomfortably in her seat, then stood up to stretch out a kink in her lower back. “In the meantime, we should get ready to make a flyby and send out the recon mission.”

“Do you still think that's wise?” D'Anguilo asked. “With all due respect, Captain, if the
danui
haven't contacted us...”

“We didn't come all this way just to take pictures.” Andromeda looked over at Melpomene. “Time to set course for final approach. I want to get in as close as we can to one of those hexes and look for a place where we can land, or dock, or whatever.”

“Which one?” The helmsman cast an uncertain glance at the screen. “They all look the same.”

“You can narrow down your choices a little.” Although still reluctant, D'Anguilo was apparently resigned to the inevitable. He walked over to the nav table, where Hex's holo image continued to revolve on its axis. “If there's 2 g at the equator, I think it's safe to assume that we'll find 1 g at the hexes about halfway up the northern hemisphere and halfway down the southern hemisphere.”

“Good call.” Joining him at the table, Andromeda took a moment to study the projection. Hex didn't have an axial tilt, so they wouldn't have to worry about seasonal differences between the two hemispheres. “Let's try the northern hemisphere,” she said at last, pointing to the holo. “About halfway to the north pole. Think you can do that?”

“Think you're being a little too picky, skipper?” Melpomene managed to keep a straight face, and Andromeda didn't know she was joking until she saw the amused glint in her eyes. The captain said nothing but simply stared at Mel until the helmsman cracked a smile. “Yes, ma'am... northern hemisphere it is.”

Andromeda went over to the helm and watched over Melpomene's shoulder as the helmsman used the trackball to move a cursor across a comp-generated image of Hex. Careful to account for Hex's rotation, the pilot selected a series of hexes in the northern hemisphere that would move into range of the
Montero
once it closed in on the sphere. Behind her, she heard D'Anguilo and Kyra quietly murmuring to each other as they stood near the nav table. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but it didn't sound as if either of them was very happy with the captain's decision.

This is the way mutinies get started,
she thought. Like everyone else in the Federation Navy and merchant marine, Andromeda was familiar with the details of the Spindrift affair, and how a breakdown in the chain of command aboard the
Galileo
had had grave consequences when the ship made contact with the
hjadd
.

She couldn't risk letting that happen again. Leaving Mel to finish laying in the course correction, Andromeda walked over to the table. As she'd expected, D'Anguilo and Kyra went silent as she came near. “Do you have a problem you want to talk about?” Andromeda asked, fixing them with a frank and unwavering gaze.

Kyra's face became pale, and D'Anguilo shook his head and started to turn away, but Andromeda wasn't about to let them cop out like that. “No, really,” she said. “If you have something to say, speak up. You're supposed to be the experts. I want to hear your opinions.”

D'Anguilo slowly let out his breath. “Captain, I... we... have some misgivings about sending down a survey team without further communication with the
danui
. I realize that we've come a long way, but I'd rather go back home empty-handed than risk offending a civilization capable of”—he cocked a thumb at the wallscreen—“well, building
that
.”

“I see.” Andromeda nodded. “And you, Ms. Wright? What's your take on this?”

Kyra hesitated even longer than D'Anguilo. “I agree with Tom... Dr. D'Anguilo, I mean,” she said at last. “There must be a reason for the
danui
to remain silent, and same for all the ships we've seen. Humans belong to the Talus. They know we're not hostile. And the
danui
invited us here. So there must be some custom or protocol that we've overlooked, and I'm afraid that if we take some action out of ignorance...”

“It could come back to bite us on the ass,” Andromeda finished. D'Anguilo nodded gravely, and although Kyra's face colored, she managed a wan smile. The captain sighed as she turned to gaze at the screen. Again, she remembered the
Galileo
mission. The first contact between humans and
hjadd
had met with disaster because
Galileo
's captain had made a rash and unwise decision. The last thing Andromeda wanted was to have history repeat itself.

“Y'know,” she said after a moment, “you may have a point. So here's what I'm thinking. We'll continue our approach, and on the way we'll keep sending radio messages. When we're a little closer, we'll send out a recon sortie, just as we planned.”

D'Anguilo started to say something, but Andromeda quickly held up a hand. “Let me finish. If we still haven't heard anything from the
danui
by the time we complete our flyby, I'll take it that the continued silence is their way of saying, ‘Go away, don't bother us.' I'll recall the lander, tell Mel to turn us around and head for the nearest starbridge, and we'll go home.”

“You'd do that?” D'Anguilo was obviously surprised.

Andromeda nodded. “I was told that this mission might be hazardous, but I'm not going to risk a major incident with an advanced race just because we can't talk to them. I'll report everything that happened, and let the diplomats hash it out with the
danui
.” She paused. “Fair enough?”

“Yes, it is.” D'Anguilo slowly nodded. “Thank you, Captain.”

“You're welcome.” Andromeda looked at Kyra. “Perhaps you'd better go below and let your team know what we're planning. If Lieutenant Cayce has any questions, tell him he can come up here and talk to me. Otherwise, I'll expect your people to be ready to go by”—she checked her watch—“1800 tomorrow.”

Kyra nodded, then turned to leave. She'd almost reached the access shaft when Andromeda decided, on a spontaneous whim, not to let her off the hook so easily.

“Oh, and Ms. Wright?” she called out, and Kyra stopped to look back at her. “When you see Sean, give him my best, will you?”

Again, the corporal's face went pale. “Yes, ma'am,” she murmured, then she fled down the manhole.

T
HREE BELLS RANG FROM THE AIRLOCK LOUDSPEAKER, AND Sean reached up to grasp a ceiling handrail. The vibration of the ship's engines ceased a few seconds later, and he felt his feet leave the deck. The
Montero
had ended its braking maneuvers; once again, the vessel was in zero g.

Kyra jostled him from behind, nudging his life-support pack. “Sorry,” she said, gently pushing herself away. “Wasn't ready for that.”

With all five members of the Corps team crammed into the airlock, the narrow compartment was uncommonly crowded. Their cramped conditions weren't made any better by the Navy-issue skinsuits they were wearing. The outfits were lightweight and flexible, but their life-support packs and chest units made them cumbersome in tight quarters. Cayce and Mark were just in front of him, and Mark was so close that Sean could see the scuff marks on the back of his helmet.

“S'okay,” Sean said. “Just relax and try to—”

A double beep in his headset, then First Officer Ressler's voice came over the comlink.
“All right, we're at zero thrust and preparing to commence rollover maneuver. You can board the
Reese
when you're ready.”

“Copy that.” Cayce stared up at the ceiling as if he could actually see the bridge from three decks below. “Survey team proceeding to lander. Over.” He then glanced back at the others. “All right, everyone... follow me.”

Mark turned his head to look at Sean through his helmet's open faceplate, and the two of them simultaneously rolled their eyes; from behind Kyra, Sean heard Sandy quietly sigh. Lieutenant Amerigo Cayce, hero of the Corps of Exploration. For the past seven days, the rest of the team had been largely spared his presence; they'd been too busy making preparations for the mission to pay much attention to him. And Kyra had been in the command center most of the time, helping Tom D'Anguilo study Hex.

Sean hadn't seen very much of her, but at least he hadn't seen much of Cayce either. Now that the time had come for the team to start earning their pay, he'd decided to put on his lieutenant's bars again. Despite his curiosity about what lay down there, Sean found himself hoping that this would be a short trip. The less he had to deal with Cayce, the better.

Probably just as well,
he thought.
He's nervous about this sortie, and he's compensating by making an ass of himself.

Cayce bent forward to unseal the hatch to
Montero
's hangar bay. A faint hiss, then it swung open, exposing the darkness that lay on the other side. As the team commander pushed himself through the hatch, sensors detected his presence; light panels flickered to life, revealing the spacecraft berthed within.

The CFS
Gilbert Reese
was nestled inside its launch cradle, its wings folded against the fuselage. Except for a couple of electrical umbilicals still attached to the hull, the lander was fueled and ready for launch. Sean and Mark had gone down there several times already to inspect the spacecraft and make sure that all the equipment packed aboard it was in good shape. The port hatch was already open, with a tether line stretched from the airlock to the lander. Pulling himself along hand over hand, Cayce led the way to the
Reese
; as team leader, he was the first to board the spacecraft, with Mark Dupree close behind.

Although not quite as cramped as the airlock, the lander's cabin was just large enough for five passengers and their equipment. Cayce and Mark sat up front in the cockpit, with Mark taking the left-hand pilot's seat; Sean settled in behind Cayce, while Kyra found her place behind Mark. That left Sandy in the rearmost seat, tucked in beside the equipment cases and backpacks strapped to the aft bulkhead. She'd groused about the seating arrangements earlier, but it was necessary for Kyra and Sean to sit close to the cockpit in order for them to assist Mark and Cayce.

Sean would be little more than a camera operator, but Kyra had an important role in the mission. She was the first to admit that, even after having studied Hex for the last several days, her knowledge of the place was only slightly less than zero. Nevertheless, over the last few days, she'd become the team's astrobiology expert. Sean suspected that she wanted him nearby as moral support.