We left our heroes returning home, after a short trip to CoDominion
Hellene and Mars, looking for more background data on the Missing
Martians. The expedition took a few hours for them, while a day and a
half elapsed back at the ranch, thanks to the erratics of Tom's novice
pantope piloting. It was early morning when we set out; it is late
evening when we return.
We have undertaken to research the Missing Martians because this is
likely to throw light on (1) the mysterious doings of Ms. Yanov and the
Rainbow Contract people, and (2) the plight of the nephilim, who are
likewise subject to lost colonies and mysterious disappearances.
Braeta tells us nothing special has happened in our absence, except that
our visitor, the Avatar, seemed to be fascinated with something in the
library. That was probably the pantope window, which we parked there
while we fast-forwarded past our last point of contact with the ranch.
While we were gone, Tom realized that the pantope windows were,
unfortunately, detectable from the outside, so he seeks out the Avatar
to find out what shows. He finds it in the computer closet.
The Avatar tells Tom that it could notice three clues to the window's
presence:
First, it was visible as a very faint circular shadow, presumably caused
by the window removing a sample of the light for presentation to the
people in the pantope. It's a very faint shadow; normal human vision
could not see it, but delicate instrumentation or sensors such as the
Avatar's can.
Second, there is a higher incidence of virtual particles around the
window, presumably a side-effect of the photon bleed-off.
Finally, there is a slight alteration of natural constants around the
window, like a very much reduced version of the alteration the Avatar
detects when the omniport is a door, not a window. Such a thing is not
explicable in current (psionic) physics, but it is detectable if you
know what to look for and have the equipment.
So the windows are undetectable to ordinary human senses, but not to
sufficiently exotic and refined technology or ESP.
Tom offers to show the Avatar what the pantope and its omniports look
like from the inside; it had only a brief chance to see them on its way
over. It agrees, looks at the omniport in window mode, and remarks that
it admits fifty percent of the light actually in the library. This
indicates that it amplifies the light it captures by a good bit. Tom
hadn't noticed the change in light level, but then human brightness
perception is logarithmic, not linear.
Robbie urges that we use the pantope to check out the Missing Martians
themselves, and their act of vanishment. Tom agrees, but wants to do a
little more background research first. There are some museums about the
Missing Martians in modern-day Percy, the town they vanished from, and
he'd like to check them out.
Accordingly, the interested parties pile into the Emerald Metaphor, Tom
disconnects from the ranch on United-Earth-line Hellene, and connects to
the Percy tube-train station on CoDominion-line Mars. We park in a
little side-corridor, but are still in range of some security cameras.
Can't be helped. It is even more annoying that Percy, like most Terran
cities of the CoDominion, is blanketed in psilence. Using a psi-opener
would probably be conspicuous, maybe even illegal without a local
license. So we'll have to forego the telepathy net. The Gargoyle
freezes up in psilence and so won't go out at all.
That's all right; it can stay here and operate the ectoplastic door that
Tom whips up, along with some glamour, so no one will notice the pantope
door hanging about. (We could turn it into a window, but this entails
getting the Gargoyle to work the laptop computer.)
The Avatar sighs -- we can see the whole sphere expand and contact --
then adopts a much more conventionally metallic and mechanical
appearance, so as to blend in on this timeline. (Tom itches to ask it
about its constitution. Not now.)
We slip out into the corridor in ones and twos, so as not to look too
weird on the security cameras. Tom goes to an ATM and, after a
considerable wait, gets a funds transfer from his accounts on CoDominion
Hellene (at 40 Ophiuchi A, several light-years away). We then buy some
local jackets at a shop in the station, to help cover up our foreign
clothing. (But an interstellar society is not easily shocked by funny
clothes.) We also buy a lead for Brunalf, and warn the neo-cat to stay
quiet, since talking cats aren't part of this timeline.
Then it's off to the Lost Colony Museum. There, we learn that the
Missing Martians were even taller than the modern ones, apparently
gene-tooled for it, instead of letting nature and gravity take their
course. Also, their early Percy was very pastoral -- lots of trees and
room for relatively few people, not many more than a thousand. Tom
wonders if these folk could have been fay; their life-style suggests it,
but it's just a suggestion.
Now on to the Lost Colony Site, a much more scholarly rival to the
Museum, where the posters outside are more realistically drawn and the
books in the gift shop are more ponderous. This is under a largish
dome, with a careful reconstruction of part of Ancient Percy, the rest
of it left untouched for future archeologists. The most interesting
thing here is the Great Tree, now over 600 years old, a gigantic
transgenic oak, the last of its artificial species, the Percy Oak.
In the gift shop, we are interested to find a history that mentions the
"Calvary Effect." This is a time-travel phenomenon, a dilute form of
timelock, also known as the Limelight Effect and the Publicity Factor.
It means that it is difficult for time-travelers to reach famous
historical events, for the simple reason that if lots of time-tourists
showed up, they would disrupt the event. ("Dr. Livingston, I presume.
And who are all your friends?") The author, Whitaker Walters, Ph.D.,
theorizes that Calvary Effect is what keeps the Missing Martians a
mystery, even in an era when time-travel is possible.
Well. We've been warned. That sometimes even changes our behavior.
But not this time. We stop for a fast-food lunch, then locate a book
store, and look up Whitaker Walters in Books In Print. Ph.D. he may be,
but his titles suggest a slightly disreputable taste for the
speculative. Lots of them have the word "mystery" or "mysterious" in
them. Not that we are in any position to criticize.
He appears to be somewhat reclusive, lives on Earth, and publishes
through Arkham House Press. Uh-huh...
Back at the train station, it's rush hour, which means it's hard to get
privacy wherewith to slip through the wall and into the pantope
unnoticed. Eventually, we are all aboard. Now to rewind to the time of
the disappearance. Unfortunately, Tom can't simply set the date; his
navigation is too crude. We must sit here and count back about 150,000
Martian days, watching the sun rise in the west and set in the east.
Fortunately, we have three cybernetic types among us; Robbie, Gannar,
and the Avatar are all good at high-speed counting. It's in their
metaphorical blood.
But, as Dr. Walters warned us, we are bucking Limelight Effect. Tom
keeps losing his lock on the planet's surface. We drift about in the
air and once nearly "collide" with Phobos. This results in Robbie and
Gannar differing by 30 days on their counts; Robbie and the Avatar
differ by 12 days. Eventually, we "land" in Percy at what ought to be a
few days before the vanishment. Robbie takes Tom's universal watch and
proposes to go outside and determine the local date exactly.
Problem: The ancient Percy citizens kept their dome at a very low air
pressure; the pantope is at Hellene sea-level air pressure; opening the
door will cause a very stiff breeze. Robbie solves this by rezzing up a
globe of clear ectoplasm around himself and the omniport. Tom opens the
omniport and the globe squeezes down some in size, but there's no
breeze.
Robbie determines we are 95 days from the vanishment. We stalk up on it
with a fast-forward much slower than our recent rewind. But Limelight
Effect gets worse, the closer we get. We get window-drift again, and
once lose connection entirely. Fortunately, the omniport keeps the help
laptop appraised of current coordinates, so we can reattach.
Ultimately, we land in a city park, around midnight before The Day.
There's a sandstorm going on, darkly visible through the dome above.
Robbie, the Avatar, Markel, and the cat all go out to reconnoiter. The
latter two are wearing diffusion belts against the low air pressure, and
everyone is wearing glamours for invisibility.
Robbie launches his flying eye (which is not invisible, but very
small), and soon picks up a couple on a park bench. They turn out to be
talking about exactly what you'd expect. Robbie moves the eye on, after
a bit.
The cat tries some witch-watching, to see if there's anything funny
about witchpaths here. Good idea, but he instantly falls off the net.
And he was invisible. And now Robbie can't find him in infrared
either... We worry that he got sucked into a local "on" ramp.
Markel tries tracking the cat by its footprints in the park grass. They
just end at the spot where it vanished. Tom steps out and tries to
dowse for the cat. Nothing. Robbie asks that Tom, our only pantope
pilot, step back aboard; he complies.
Robbie, meanwhile, goes on looking about. And listening. The local
radio channels aren't very informative, though, being encoded, or
constantly packet-switching, or some such. His eye, however, picks up
some conversation from a pedestrian couple: "Really, we have to hurry.
Only six more hours and so much to pack."
So the Missing Martians vanished deliberately. Robbie has his eye
follow them. Markel does, too.
This couple, it turns out, are not just hurrying home to pack. They
proceed to break into a local shop, using a hand comm to trigger the
lock. Inside, it's a tool store of some sort, selling stuff for shaping
wood and metal. They couple begin looting it very selectively and
deftly. In the dark. Good eyes...
Robbie, meanwhile, finally finds a continuous voice. A very continuous
voice. One of those people who appear to talk without inhaling, and so
never give the packet switcher time to break in and change to an open
channel. Quoth the lady: "I just couldn't convince her. Sylvia's going
out with Flora and not with us."
The couple finish their deeds in the dark and leave the store, invisibly
tailed by Markel and Robbie's eye.
An air-car goes by, very low and very fast. Which is very odd.
"It's just like Syliva to go all flighty on you and change plans at the
last minute on something big...."
The air-car zooms by again.
At this point, Markel notices that there are no signs on all these
park-side stores. We then recall that the reconstructions in the
museums did show shop signs, but none of the actual photos from the
period did. And no one noticed. Very odd.
Zoom again, with the air-car. What's this guy up to? He has attracted
the noticed of a cop on an air-cycle.
"She apparently has no sense of priority, no sense of history, and no
sense of the Big Picture whatsoever!" Possibly we should recruit
Sylvia. She sounds like our sort.
Meanwhile, Robbie has picked up another couple, this time two young
men. "Constable's out. He's going to spot you!" "Who cares tonight?"
They're squatting in the shrubbery, watching the air-car go by at 150
m.p.h., three meters above the ground, the air-cycle flashing blue in
hot pursuit.
Robbie asks Tom if he'd like one of these folk for a memory audit. No
thanks.
Instead, we watch as they break into another of the sign-free shops.
They go from cabinet to cabinet, check and occasionally replacing
contents. When there are any contents. Most of the cabinets are
empty. And most are opaque, with solid wood doors like kitchen
cabinets. Real stores usually have windows in the cabinet doors, to
display stuff. Again, very odd.
These two fellows have the tall, slender, barrel-chested build and ruddy
skins typical of the Missing Martians. They are better dressed than
criminals usually are. Their eyes maybe a little over-large; another
transgenic adaptation?
Tom takes a quick clairviewing through the cabinets. Most are empty.
He notices several have pegs, and realizes that these are often for
things like greatswords and axes. Odder and odder.
"Ah ha! I told you!" One of the gentleman burglars has found a box
containing a pair of daggers in leather sheaths and a pair of guns.
They are not space-age zap guns. Instead, they are more typical of the
18th century, or of the Jack when its technology was declining. Dafnord
notes there are not hammers on them. They have nice jade handles,
though. "This is worth the whole trip!" one of the burglars exults.
Outside: Zoom. Siren. Crash! The cop has hit a tree. The air-car
vanishes as fast as may be, as do the lads with the old-fashioned
pistols. Tom tags one with a tracer.
Then we turn our attention to the crashed cop. He's alive, and the
other burglarious couple, the man-and-woman team of tool collectors,
are running up to him. The man pauses to hit a button on his pocket
phone, and soon there are more sirens in the distance -- he called an
ambulance.
The woman starts checking the cop over. He starts to rise and thinks
better of it, since his leg is clearly broken. Then the woman puts her
hand on him and does something psychic. Tom can feel it. It's
something like the diagnostic psi he's seen Lorelei do. Psi,
centuries before it became reliable and widely known.
A couple of air-vans arrive and issue cops. One looks at the woman and
speaks three syllables to her. She replies. Odd again.
They start emergency first aid. We learn the couple is named
"Forester," and things seem normal again until one of the cops lays
hands on his injured fellow and a glow issues from beneath them. More
psi.
An ambulance shows up. The medics haul out a stretcher which pulls the
cop aboard with mechanical TK. Tres anachronistic technology. One of
the cops remarks to his radio that "Doc" will "have to unpack."
Tom states what is now obvious: "This is a whole village of
time-travellers or other outworlders, and they're getting ready to
leave."
The ambulance zooms away in a daredevil manner suggesting anachronistic
inertial damping, and the Foresters pick up their ill-gotten goods and
leave. Then three cop cars show up in the air, form a triangle, and
start circling and scanning for clues. About the crash, but they'll
also pick up us, the Avatar informs us.
(The Avatar also remarks that the psi used by these folk is "subtle and
richly textured." This may mean they're fay. It almost certainly means
they're very good at it. As in maybe better than us.)
Robbie and the Avatar retreat through the door. But Markel is too far
away. He'll have to run around the park to reach the pantope door and
stay out from under the circling cop cars. And the cat is still
missing, of course.
Someone leaps gracefully out of one of the circles cars. A long leap.
Maybe it's the low Martian gravity; maybe he had a TK assist. He looks
around, finds something interesting, and is soon clearly tracking
Markel. He talks into a comm unit.
Markel was still tailing the Foresters, but now he starts working on
getting back to the pantope. Tom puts a tracer on the Foresters as
Markel leaves ... and the cop stares straight at the pantope door. A
cop car descends and another cop gets out. They both look our way and
sigh. They start to approach. The second cop pulls out a little
pendant ending in a gem. He also pulls out a pistol, which glues
conveniently to his pants, no holster required. They poke about, still
headed our way.
One homes in on the spot where the cat vanished. Tom, who has been
relying on low lighting to hide the door until now, casts a glamour over
it. When he does that, the other cop does a duck and roll and
vanishes. Tom's not the only glamourist in town. The other cop freezes
in place.
Tom now tries to cast a clairvoyant cloak over the door. Just as he
tries to move the door, to meet Markel -- thump -- the cop who
vanished drops boots-first out of the air, in front of the door.
Snap. Tom loses the connection to Mars.
Updated: 7-Oct-06
©1984, 1994, 2005 Earl Wajenberg. All Rights Reserved.
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