Lisa asked, her internal sensors at full gain and suddenly suspicious. “What new job?”
“I believe you saw it on the way in.”
She frowned, puzzled. Then recognition dawned.
“The stargate!”
He nodded. “The stargate. Bill Lonegon and the Lancer group snagged it away from the Broa as slick as any bank heist in history. Better yet, they don’t know it’s gone and may not for decades. The system we purloined it from has been dead for a century.”
“What shape is the gate in?”
“Surprisingly good. It appears fully functional. It passes all of the diagnostics we’ve figured out how to run. Now all we need do is learn everything we can about its operation and get that information back to Earth.”
“Can we do that, Admiral?”
“There are practical problems, of course. However, I am hopeful. The gate has a full set of technical specifications stored in an onboard database. Hardly surprising. We do the same with our starships. No sense having all of the repair manuals back at base if you break down a thousand light-years from home, is there? More importantly, this is the sort of stuff you don’t find in planetary databases; at least, not in the databases of slave species.”
“So why are you talking to us?” Lisa asked.
“Because we’ve run into a problem. The data isn’t written in the trade language Sar-Say taught you. It is written in what you might call ‘technical Broan.’ We’re having difficulty translating it. The computers just aren’t picking up the nuances.”
Lisa frowned. “I’m not technical, Admiral. I minored in Romance Languages in school.”
“You are still the best linguist we have. When we brought Sar-Say back from New Eden, I thought he was mute. Yet, he began to speak to you from practically the first moment you laid eyes on him. Everything we know about the enemy lingua franca is based on your initial work. It isn’t a matter of knowing the science. It’s a matter of being able to grasp the meaning of words from context and interpolation.
“What about Mark? I don’t want to leave him.”
“I would never think of breaking up either your team or your marriage. It’s lonely enough out here without making it more so. In fact, I believe ours is the first navy in history that has made it a priority to accommodate married couples.
“And in that vein, I have a new assignment for Mark, as well — if he wants it.”
“I’m not a linguist, Admiral. I doubt I’d be much use helping my wife read a Broan blueprint.”
“No one is asking you to be, Mark. Once Lisa and her compatriots get the data translated, the project will pass into a new phase. I want to get what we learn to Earth as fast as possible. And for that, we are going to need the stargate.”
“Sir?”
“Since it is functional, I want to use the gate to send a ship back to Earth in a one-way jump. The ship I have chosen has an open billet for an Executive Officer. The responsibility is commensurate with that shiny new half-stripe on your uniform. Do you want it?”
#
Chapter Six
The airlock door opened and Lisa Rykand stepped awkwardly out onto Sutton’s airless, dusty surface. She could feel the packed talcum-powder-fine dust crunching beneath her boots, but of course, no accompanying sound. The only sounds she heard were those of her own breathing and the whirr of the ventilation fan that was blowing air onto the nape of her neck. The air was cold, but smelled of dirty socks… as did the air inside every vacuum suit.
As she exited the airlock, she stepped into the full glare of Hideout, which was shining directly into her face. Her faceplate automatically darkened, but not before she felt a brief stabbing pain in her retinas from the sudden radiance.
“Bright, ain’t it?” Chief Vacuum Construction Specialist Tom Blanchard commented as he exited the airlock. Blanchard was the grizzled spacer who had been assigned to guide her. His vacsuit was canary yellow; hers, lime