“We’re happy about letting the vehicle go?” Kelm queried.
“It was only used for scientific work. That’s low on the list. And it will be a dozen less for us to watch for now. Let them go.” Zeigler thought for a moment longer, then added, “And in any case, why reveal that we have our information sources out there to no useful purpose?”
* * *
Keene learned about it from Shayle later that evening, when they were having supper in the dorm blocks cafeteria. “He went out himself to see them off? And Jorff went with them?”
“Plus two troopers and the girl who’s been their translator. A couple of welders who were working on the annex roof watched them go. They left in a GP personnel flyer.”
Keene chewed on his food and frowned as he tried to divine some meaning from it. Supper was Kronian chicken-flavored soy compound and reconstituted vegetables with a salad from the Varuna’s hydroponics unit. Although he should have been used to such fare by now, he hoped it wouldn’t be long before Serengeti got some tilling and stock-rearing of its own under way. “What do you make of it?” he asked when he’d swallowed finally.
“It seems like the flattery and camaraderie line. The only thing I can think of is that he has plans on recruiting them.”
“For what?”
“Presumably, to add to his troops.”
“Rakki’s Tribe? But there aren’t enough of them to make a difference that would be worthwhile.”
“What about the others to the east, where Rakki and his band came from? Weren’t there supposed to be a lot more there?” But even as Shayle said it, she was shaking her head. “No, that couldn’t work, could it? Rakki and their chief are sworn-to-the-death enemies.”
“It seems that way, doesn’t—” Keene halted in midsentence. “Unless . . .”
“What?”
“The idea is to remove the other guy and put Rakki in charge of the whole roost. That would be an old enough trick. You couldn’t get a more devoted follower than that. And that would add significantly to the number of soldiers Zeigler could expect.” Keene stared distantly at the wall as further implications opened up. “More soldiers not just for now, but for later too, maybe . . .” His voice trailed away.
Was Zeigler playing a longer and more complex gamble—to strengthen his hand for when potential rivals arrived, perhaps? But what quality of recruit could he expect to produce in the time he had available? Keene thought back to the first contact with the Tribe at Joburg, their total unfamiliarity with even the rudiments of an advanced technology, the near panic that merely a low pass of the probe over their heads had caused. . . .
And then, suddenly, a completely different light came into Keene’s eyes as everything he had been thinking about a moment ago was forgotten. He turned his face back and stared at Shayle with the expression of someone who had just received a beatific vision.
She stopped eating and waited. Finally, she invited, “Lan, what is it?”
“The probe,” Keene answered distantly. “That probe that sucked in an arrow and was grounded the first time we went to Joburg. It’s still there, somewhere up over that ridge up above the place. Owen Erskine was supposed to be arranging for its retrieval, but he’s been having other problems lately. . . . It’s still up there, Shayle, up on that ridge. And it has its own independent emergency channel to Survey Mission Control up in the Varuna!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Sariena found Charlie Hu in one of the cubicles in the Lab block, contemplating a screen showing analyses of atmospheric samples that the probes had collected from various places. He seemed to have detached himself from recent events by turning inward and immersing himself in his work. “This is interesting,” he said, inclining his head. “Athena has changed the isotope mixes of carbon, argon, nitrogen . . . all of the elements we’ve studied. If the same thing happened with the earlier Venus and Mars encounters, it would invalidate the assumptions that most conventional dating was based on. . . .” He turned his head finally and registered the look on Sariena’s face, saying that other matters were preoccupying her just at the moment. “What?”