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flashed by marking the limits of a baked and cracked field. First one, then
another came into view, the outlying farms. There was cheering down the
lengths of all the trains.
"That's a relief," Otakar said. "Here at last. I was beginning to get tired."
Jan was not cheering, or even smiling. "You are going to be a lot more tired
before this is all over. We have to unload the corn and turn the trains
around."
"Don't remind me. You're going to hear a lot of grumbling."
"Let them. If this planet is to have any future at all it will be because we
have the corn here when the ships arrive."
"If," Alzbeta said.
"Yes, there's always the if. But we have to act as though it will happen.
Because it will be the end of everything if the ships don't come at all. But
we can worry about that later. I don't mean to be the skeleton at the feast.
Let's stop these trains on the Central Way, set the brakes and see if we can't
have a party tonight. I think everyone is in the mood for one. We can begin
unloading the corn after a good night's sleep."
The party was very much in the order of things, there were no complaints about
that. With the air temperature now down in the 80s it could be held outside,
with elbow room and freedom for everyone. When the trains halted for the last
time between the rows of barren
behind him and looked around at the familiar scene. This water Central Control
was identical with the one he had shut down in the North town before leaving
on the trek. These two control rooms were the only buildings that were
permanently air conditioned and climate controlled.
They made human life on the planet possible.
Before starting the program Jan satin the seat before the console and
activated the scanners one by one at the water station, over 1500 kilometers
away in the mountains above the coast. The first was mounted in thick steel
and concrete on top of the station, and when it turned it gave a panoramic
view. Everything was as it should be, he knew that from the printout which
would have informed him, long before this if there had been any kind of
trouble.
But he always felt he could not be sure until he looked for himself.
Irrational of course, but all good mechanics have a touch of irrationality.
You have to like machines to work well with them.
Solid and powerful, a fortress of technology. A featureless blank exterior of
weathered concrete, over three meters thick. Some flying lizardoids were on a
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ledge of the building; they flapped slowly away when the eye of the camera
moved toward them. Far below was the sea where waves battered against the
solid rock. As the point of view changed the bins came into view, half filled
with wealth extracted from the sea, a by-product of the desalination process.
There was at least a tonne of gold in one of them. Worth a fortune on Earth,
but valuable on
Halvmork only for its untarnishing qualities, for plating on the engines and
field machines. The last thing in the slow circuit was the deep canal,
stretching down the mountain to the black mouth of the first tunnel, two
kilometers below.
to initiate startup.
There would be nothing visible for some time, since internal checks of all
components were the first step in the series. When the machine was satisfied
that all was in order it would slowly raise the output of the fusion
generator. Then the force pumps, buried in the solid rock beneath sea level,
would go into operation. Silent, with no moving parts, they would begin
lifting the sea water up the large pipes to the station on the crest above.
They used a variation of the same magnetic bottle that contained the fusion
reaction, modified to seize the water and push it away. Higher and higher the
water would be pumped until it spilled over into the flash distillation
section. Here it was vaporized instantly, with most of the water vapor drawn
off to the condenser. Gravity took over then.
Jan had seen enough people, talked to enough people, and he relished the
privacy now.
He sat and watched the screens and readouts for hours, until the first
splashes of water fell from the outlets, turning into a roaring river just
seconds later. Down it rushed, carrying sand and airborne debris before it,
until it vanished into the tunnel. It would be days before the first dirty
trickle worked through the tunnels and canals to reach the city.
A separate stream of thick brine splashed down a channel cut away in the side
of the mountain to fall back into the sea below. He would wait at least a week
before starting up the extractors that took all the elements and chemicals
from the sea water. In the beginning all that was needed was volume flow to
fill and scour clean the channels. All was as it should be and he was tired.
The party, he had forgotten about it. It should be well under way by now.
Good,
"Couldn't they wait until we have all had some sleep?"
"Apparently urgent. They pulled me away from a very cold pitcher of beer which
I am going back to. They ve put up the dome and are meeting there. See you in
the morning."
"Good night."
Jan could not walk slowly enough, and the dome wasn't far away. Now that they
had finished this first journey they would be back at their complaints and
bickering again. He had to talk to them, like it or not. Let them get it out
of their systems so in the morning they could all get to work unloading the
corn. A Proctor at the door, complete with sidearm, knocked when he came up,
then let him in.
They were all there, the Family Heads and the technical officers. Waiting in
silence until he sat down. It was The Hradil who spoke. It would have to be
her.
"There have been grave charges, Jan Kulozik."
"Who's in trouble now? And couldn't it have waited for the morning?"
"No. This is an emergency. There must be justice. You are accused of
assaulting Proctor
Captain Hem Ritterspach and of causing the deaths of three children.
These are grave charges. You will be held in confinement until your trial."
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He jumped to his feet, fatigue gone. "'You can..."
Strong hands seized him, and pulled him about. Two Proctors held him and there
was.
Hein grinning, gun pointed.
"No tricks, Kulozik, or I shoot. You're a dangerous criminal and you'll be
locked up."
The Hradil had planned it this way from the very beginning. The thought was
bitter as bile and Jan could taste the hatred that welled up inside of him
when he thought about it. Planned and carried through by the brain behind
those serpent eyes. Had she been a man he might have killed her, there before
the others, even if they killed him in return.
Underneath him the stone floor was hot, still burning with the heat of summer.
He had his shirt off and under his head as a pillow, yet he still dripped with
sweat. It must be a 100 or over in the small storeroom. They must have
prepared this even before holding the meeting to accuse him; he could see the
marks where the stored parts had rested before being dragged away. There was
no window. The light, high above, burned continually. The metal door locked
from the outside. There was a gap between the door and the stone and a flow of
cooler air came through it. He lay with his face pressed close to it and
wondered how long he had been here and if they could ever bring him some
water.
Someone had to care about him -- but no one had appeared. It seemed incredible
that he could be Trainmaster one day, in charge of all the people and all of
the resources of the planet, and a forgotten prisoner the next. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
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