Code of the Lifemaker By James P. Hogan

hide his dismay as he listened, and mumbled about needing time to rethink the

whole situation. Then, roaring with laughter after Lang was off the line, he had

told the team jubilantly, “This has to mean we’re over the last hurdle! Thanks

to Massey we’ve bluffed the bluffers with their own bluff. Lang and the rest of

them will just be sitting up there in the Orion, waiting for us to call back

while we’re going in over the city. They won’t expect a thing!”

Zambendorf’s enthusiasm had infected the lander’s NASO crew, who were gradually

being won over by a combination of his magnetism and his explanations about the

Orion mission and its real purpose. The team had effectively acquired another

four members and was all set to launch the final phase of the operation that

would make its task complete. The situation could hardly have been more

favorable. In fact it was too favorable. Everything was going too well, Abaquaan

felt. Buried somewhere deep down in the whole intricate pattern was something

that didn’t quite fit—something still too subtle for him to raise to the level

of conscious awareness, but his instincts had detected it. Twenty years earlier

Abaquaan had learned the dangers ofoverconfidence; a premonition kept telling

him that at long last Zambendorf’s turn had arrived to learn the same lesson.

An annunciator on the instrument panel bleeped suddenly, and a symbol on a

display screen began to flash on and off. In the seat next to him, Clarissa

glanced down, flipped a switch to reset the audio warning, punched commands into

the pilot’s touchpanel, and took in the data that appeared on another display.

“We’ve just triggered the outer approach marker,” she murmured as she throttled

back on power and banked the flyer round to line up for landing. “Open up a

channel to ground, and let’s have a profile check.”

Abaquaan selected an infrared view of the terrain ahead and used another screen

to conjure up images of a series of flight instruments. “Steepen to

one-eight-zero, rate five-four, reduce speed to four-twenty, and come round onto

two-five-nine,” he instructed. “Autoland lock-on programed at ten seconds into

phase three of glidepath.”

“Descent monitor and systems?” Clarissa queried.

“Green one, green two, and ah … all positive function.”

The flyer came round an invisible mountaintop and straightened out onto its

final approach and descent into the narrow, sheer-sided valley where the surface

lander was hidden. The valley floor was a sprawling mess of alien industrial

constructions, tangled machinery, and derelict plants, and would blur any radar

echos to overflying reconnaissance satellites sufficiently to conceal the

outline of the lander, which as an extra precaution had been copiously draped

with aluminum foil and metalized plastic. The site was showing no lights, and

electronic transmissions were being restricted to low-power local communications

and ground beams aimed at satlink relays. Abaquaan pressed a button and spoke

into the microphone projecting from his headset. “Hornet to Big Bird. Do you

read? Over.”

The voice of Hank Frazer, the lander’s Communications Officer, replied a few

seconds later: “Reading you okay, Hornet. The landing area is clear here. How’d

it all go?”

“Hi, Hank. Mission accomplished,” Abaquaan replied. “Moses is on his way. No

hitches. How have things been back there?”

The flyer slowed to hover in the darkness, and Clarissa quickly scanned graphics

displays presented by the flight computers. Moments later the vehicle began

sinking vertically. “I think we may have problems,” Frazer’s voice answered.

“Dave Crookes called down from the ship. It seems like he overheard a couple of

army officers up there talking about infantry missiles being issued to the

Paduans specifically for use against the lander if Zambendorf tried any more

tricks with it. Crookes didn’t know what to make of the conversation, but it

sounded serious and he figured we ought to know. In other words it looks as if

Henry may really have those weapons after all.”

In the semidarkness of the flyer’s cockpit, Clarissa and Abaquaan exchanged

ominous glances. “Have they talked to Massey about it?” Clarissa murmured,

tight-lipped. Outside, the tops of fractionating towers and steel pylons,

indistinct and ghostly in Titan’s feeble light, were drifting slowly into view

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