Once more, Maertyn read over the dispatch that had come with the canal-runner that morning.
From:
Minister of Science
Unity of Caelaarn
To:
Maertyn S?Eidolon
Deputy Assistant Minister
Subject:
Pending Research on Climatic Impact of MCC
I am looking forward to your presentation on the twenty-first of Ninemonth.
You will be addressing the internal Ministry council. Your project has taken on a particular import, as you may have learned from the by-elections in Aracha, especially in Saenblaed. Difficult as it may be for some in the government to accept, there is growing popular pressure to resort to physical geo-engineering to deal with the situation. In this light, any insight you can offer on how the ancients may have employed the canal to avoid such extremes would be especially valuable, particularly in light of your request for additional equipment.
Saenblaed, reflected Maertyn as he lowered the dispatch for a moment, was where the bulk of the refugees from Edelburg had settled. They always voted for the Returnist party and any scheme, no matter how improbable, that offered hope of reclaiming their lands. What the short dispatch had not said, but clearly implied, was that the strictly biologically based projects and research, always the strength of the Unity, were not turning out as planned, because of either star-high costs or technical problems, if not both.
He couldn?t say that he was surprised. Biological means of providing the concentrated energy required by technological societies tended to be inefficient or to require significant additional processing and/or infrastructure to increase that energy concentration, effectively diluting the end-use efficiency. Also, efficiency declined in extremes of heat or cold, and the earth was definitely cooling.
His thesis had been relatively simple. After scanning of the records of temperature observations taken at the east and west end of the canal and at selected points in between and cross-matching them, as best he could, to comparable observations within a kay or more away from the canal, but still within the same climatic area, there seemed to be a definite indication that the canal moderated temperatures more than could be accounted by all the known factors. In the year and a half since he and Maarlyna had been at the station, his own measurements had made that clear. He had yet to figure out why. The impervious blue-gray stone-although he doubted it was stone in any chemical or compositional sense-never changed temperature, regardless of how much sunlight fell or how chill the winters were. Did it somehow regulate its temperature instantly, or did its very composition insulate it from temperature changes?
He?d originally hoped that determining the basis for that definite temperature differential might lead to developing possible means for pushing the ice back from the northern side of the canal. The more he studied that aspect of the problem, the more he doubted that he could develop even a viable theoretical approach. While he was not about to tell the Ministry that, not yet, there were other aspects of the canal that offered better prospects, including his growing awareness of what might almost be called "messages," such as the understanding of when a berg might calve or when a tsunami might reach the station-although that had happened but a handful of times. He couldn?t very well put those into a research paper or presentation. Even Maarlyna, who loved and trusted him, had hardly given him any indication that she believed what he sensed. Yet…he had the feeling she sensed something as well, although he had not pressed her on that, not when she was neurally so vulnerable.
Now he had to give a convincing presentation on a thesis in which he no longer fully believed in order to retain Ministry support to allow him to pursue a research alternative he couldn?t logically justify or quantify. And Minister Hlaansk?s dispatch had made it more than clear that he had best be very convincing.
There was also the question of whether that was even the real purpose of Hlaansk?s politely worded demand. Was it as simple as what he had stated, or was Maertyn?s presentation designed to provide political cover for the minister against the appointees who were loyal to other political figures, or was it to make an example of Maertyn by showing that even lords were accountable…especially if they requested more equipment? Or was it something else entirely?
Finally, he pushed the chair back and stood, turning from the pale green screens that held meaningful but irrelevant data. He stretched, then, after several moments, walked from his workroom into the main study. He did not see Maarlyna, and he turned toward the ramp that began just inside the main entrance on the canal side of the station building and headed down to the kitchen, located in the chamber below his work space.
Maarlyna was not there, but Shaenya was standing before the cook-top.
"Might I ask what?s for dinner?"
"Carplet stew, but with a pinenut glaze, and spiced potatoes in yogurt with some greens I gathered from the sheltered garden."
"The panels have kept it from freezing?"
"Them and the water walls. For now. In another two weeks…who could say?"
"If there?s time next week in Daelmar before I catch the maglev to Caelaarn, I?ll see if I can stop and have a side of lamb sent over from there on Haarlan?s freightrunner."
"You?d not have to do that, Lord Maertyn."
"I want you, Svorak, and Maarlyna well-fed in my absence." He grinned. "If I do, don?t you dare save it for my return."
"Not if you?d be telling me not to, no, sir."
"You haven?t seen Maarlyna, have you?"
"Lady S?Eidolon?" The cook shook her head. "She came down an hour ago, but not since then."
"Thank you." Maertyn turned and walked back up the ramp and then outside onto the narrow space between the station and the canal wall. He glanced around before catching sight of Maarlyna. For a moment, he just looked, taking in the glint of light off her amber hair and the way she appeared so much a part of the canal and the light house.
She stood in the weak late-afternoon sunlight to the left of the light house, looking out at the cold gray waters of the ocean. She did not turn as he joined her.
"It?s peaceful here." Her voice was quiet, so low he could barely make out her words above the hum of the wind turbines, the rush of the wind, and the intermittent muffled crash of the waves below hitting the enduring blue-gray stone.
He understood. "Not that many people around."
"They didn?t used to grate on me so much."
"Times change."
"So do people. I?ve changed, Maertyn."
"We all change as we grow."
"You?re humoring me."
"Perhaps a little. Isn?t that the husbandly thing to do?"
She finally turned to face him. "You never used to do that. You never were so solicitous before…before…"
"No. I should have been, but almost losing you made me realize how much you meant to me." His eyes looked into hers, a shade of amber that matched her hair almost perfectly.
"I know. I don?t pretend to understand, but I know."
He leaned toward her and brushed her cheek with his lips. "I?m glad you do."
"The longer we?re here," she mused, "the stranger the station seems, and yet the more like home. I have the feeling that I won?t want to leave."
Maertyn nodded. He wasn?t certain he felt quite that way, but then, he?d never felt as though any place had ever been home. In those moments as he stood beside her under the high gray clouds, his thoughts returned to the station itself. As Maarlyna had said, there were so many prosaically strange aspects to the station. There were no vermin, no pests, and, according to the records, domesticated animals howled and moaned if they were kept inside. Yet the old records showed that the former light house-keepers had had fewer accidents and lived seemingly healthier and longer lives than their contemporaries. Had some of them sensed what Maertyn did? At least subconsciously?
The functionality of the doors bothered him. They had from the beginning. According to the older records, they didn?t respond to animals, only to people, and that included children, and generally only to bare skin. Did the "windows," doors, and ducts respond as much to mental intent as to human touch? Did the windows admit light if no people were present? How could he easily test the effect of presence or intent?
"You have the oddest look on your face, Maertyn…"
"I was just thinking…"
"About what?"
"The station." He paused. "Would you do me a favor, dearest?"
"If I can." Her voice was puzzled.
"I?d like you to touch parts of the station wall as we walk back, but I want you to close your eyes after the first touch, take several steps, and touch the station wall again. You remember when I was doing that? I didn?t think about doing it with my eyes closed when I couldn?t see the wall."
"Would that make a difference?"
He laughed softly. "I don?t know. I just never thought of it."
"If you think it will help," she offered, smiling.
"One way or the other, it will," he promised.
As they walked back toward the station, she grasped his arm with her left hand a trace more firmly than usual.
"Where do you want me to start?"
"Right at the corner, here. Then you close your eyes and take several steps. I?ll tell you when to touch the wall again. Keep your eyes closed, but reach out and touch the stone. Then, we?ll do it once more…several times more."
Maarlyna reached out and touched the rounded square corner of the stone, then closed her eyes. "How many steps?"
"Try three."
Maertyn let her lead him.
"Here?" she asked.
"That?s good."
At the third stop, where, on the inside, Maertyn thought there was a window, there was no change in the opacity of the stone. Maertyn hadn?t expected there would be, but the confirmation was slightly satisfying.
After the fourth stop, he said, "Just two steps this time."
Maarlyna took the two steps, then stretched her arm and touched the smooth gray stone.
Maertyn watched intently. For a long moment, nothing happened. He counted silently. One, two, three.
Then the door opened, the stone sliding/folding into itself as it always did.
He almost nodded. "You can open your eyes."
"We?re back. What did you find out?"
He gestured for her to enter the study, following her inside, before replying. "The door opened more slowly when you weren?t thinking of it as a door."
Behind them, the door re-formed into the smooth stone wall.
She nodded. "I can?t say that surprises me. I couldn?t tell you why, though." She smiled.
"I wonder if it would refuse to open if someone hostile tried."
"I?d rather not have to try that experiment." He returned the smile. "I need to think about some things before dinner."
"I?ll just read in here, if it won?t disturb you."
"You never do." Maertyn returned to his workroom through the open archway and settled into the swivel, thinking.
Had that long hesitation meant what he thought? Exactly what else could he do? He nodded. He should have thought about it earlier. He could certainly measure the light levels in the main rooms just by leaving a recording photometer behind. That would tell him about the windows. He leaned forward and began to list the equipment he needed. He?d have to modify some of it to get the accuracy he desired, but it wouldn?t take that much work.
When he finished, some time later, he straightened and considered the situation.
The first and most obvious question was why had others not discovered what he had. The first thought that came to mind was that they might well have, but how would he know, given the fragmentary nature of the records remaining? If they had discovered only what he had observed so far, then the results would only have been a curiosity. To discover more would have required higher-level technology, and human records tended to become more and more impermanent with such technology, not to mention that humans seemed to have great difficulty hanging on to civilization-and records-once technology reached a high level.
Maarlyna?s question raised another line of thought. Determining hostile intent suggested more than mere mechanical response. Could the stone hold an entire intelligence of some sort?
Yet, if it did, why had it remained detached, or at least passive, over all the years? Was there some sort of test involved? Or was the test simply to discover what the canal truly was and how to best use it?
He frowned. Then again…could anything as enigmatic as the canal truly be "used" by anyone?
As always, what he discovered was raising more questions than answers, and he needed some sort of answers to keep the Ministry off his back…and to keep Maarlyna away from Caelaarn-indeed anywhere near Unity spies and functionaries-for as long as possible.