Redline the Stars

19

A frown darkened the Cargo-Master's features, but Jellico silenced him with a sharp shake of his head. A cold dread chilled his own heart. It was not the Medic's words but the deadly, calm certainty with which she had spoken them that drove the spear through him. That tone compelled attention, the more powerfully from those who knew this woman at all.

Adroo Macgregory was not pleased, but he, too, was gripped by his guest's manner. Groundlessly or not, she was afraid for his city. "It's an old, stable compound, Doctor. You can jostle it, drop containers of it, run a transport over it without any effect whatsoever."

"Aye, but give it a sudden, extreme increase in temperature, and you've got an atmobomb on your hands. — I'm not exaggerating, Mr. Macgregory. Ammonium nitrate sounded familiar to me, not because I'd heard of it in connection with Trade but because of my own studies.

History tells loud and clear what it can do. That stuff has caused galactic-class chaos before now, and given everything else stored and made around here, there's enough of it down there right now to literally annihilate everything and everyone between these slopes if absolutely everything went wrong, and maybe a good part of the city beyond as well."

"You're sure?" the SoJar Queen's Captain asked quietly.

"Aye. The incidents I'd studied took place in the far past. As Mr. Van Rycke says, ammonium nitrate hasn't been big business, or real business at all, for a very long time, but it has caused trouble before, and it'll do it again. Canuche Town's primed for it."

"She's right if that blasted stuff's as bad as she claims," the Canuchean cut in sharply. "The Cup's the worst conceivable place for an accident involving a volatile substance. — I'll look into this. Doctor Cofort. If your claims prove out, before you lift with your last charter from me, you'll find ammonium nitrate being handled on the red docks, with shipments so scheduled as not to bring it into contact with too much else that might exacerbate an accident." "Will you be able to get the dock space for it?" Jan asked doubtfully. "Everything looks pretty locked up down there."

"Out at the very tip, yes, which is where it belongs anyway by the sound of it. Those piers're too far away from everything to be considered convenient, so there are always a number of them available. We don't ship that much sensitive material at a given moment nowadays to tie them all up. Or we didn't."

"You'll have to delve far back for confirmation," Rael warned, "to the first Martian settlement and pre-space Terra."

"I have the people to do the digging, Doctor. Don't you worry about that. I also have the means to collect evidence more directly. — I'll have to ask you to excuse me for a few minutes. They have sealed booths here. There are some calls I have to make."

Rael watched him go, then lowered her eyes to the table to avoid those of her companions. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

"He mentioned that two million people live in Canuche Town," Miceal said.

He took a sip out of his cup and scowled. "Space, woman, why couldn't you at least have waited until we'd finished our jakek?"

"The coffee's no less good," Van Rycke told him, although he glanced nervously below even as he spoke. The motion of the restaurant had already begun to put the Cup behind them. The effect would be strictly illusory in the event that the worst happened while they were up here, of course, but it was a definite psychological comfort to see it go.

He frowned again as an old memory stirred. "I think she's right, Miceal. Way back in my first year at the Pool, we had an old cracked-helmet retired Cargo-Master as an instructor. I recall his mentioning that ammonium nitrate used to be on the hazardous cargo list at one time before it was dropped for never being carried. I believe he also mentioned that it was actually used as an explosive in olden times. — Damn, I should have remembered that as soon—"

"Power down, Van," Jellico said calmly. "Even you're not a computer. — Here comes our host."

Macgregory did not reclaim his chair. "Come on, space hounds. We're about to witness an experiment."

One of the calls the Canuchean industrialist had made was to order a transport for his party, and a large four-wheel passenger vehicle was waiting for them at the entrance of the tower building when they emerged from it a few minutes later.

It made no delay in carrying them through the crowded streets and deposited them in short order before the main entrance of the giant Caledonia, Inc., plant.

Adroo nodded to the guard stationed there and led his guests inside. "Our research quarters are this way."

It was through the clerical portion of the huge facility that he conducted them rather than through those sections where Caledonia's numerous products were made or assembled. Here were no coverall-clad laborers driving their I minitrucks, lifters, or manipulators or commanding their banks of robots but, rather, fashionably dressed men and i women seated at desks or moving in an office worker's universal hurry along the seemingly endless hallways.

Once again, Rael was struck by the suitability of their i' Trade uniforms. They attracted no notice, or none beyond the inevitable interest aroused by the company in which they traveled.

She gave a wry smile. That held true only for their dress uniforms, she amended. They would not make such an appealing picture after a few hours shoving cargo around, particularly on some low-mech steam pit like Queex's Tabor or Amazoon of Indra.

"Here's the Research Center," Macgregory told them at last, echoing the sign on the big double swinging doors as he pushed his way through them.

Another maze of corridors awaited them on the other side, in general appearance much the same as those they had left behind save that the people they encountered now were wearing white. Most also had their hair confined in san-nets and their hands covered by the light, supple laboratory gloves that were standard equipment in such installations throughout the Federation.

A technician whom Rael judged to be about Dane Thor- son's age approached them. "We're all set, Mr. Macgregory."

"Lead the way."

In response, she opened a door on their left, this one a panel that silently slid to a tight close behind them.

They found themselves in a hall or walkway about five feet wide that completely encircled a sealed chamber walled off from them by a barrier of some colorless, transparent material. The ceiling above the enclosed place was a mass of lights and odd instruments as complex in appearance as the bridge of the Solar Queen. The floor was a seamless sheet of dull-finished metal.

The whole place was empty save for a single metal sphere approximately one foot in diameter resting in splendid isolation in what appeared to be its exact center.

"The control panel's over here," the technician told them.

They followed her a quarter around the perimeter of the room until they came to a two-foot-square board of dials and gauges that made a fitting complement to the bewildering ceiling inside.

"That ball is a miniature laboratory," Adroo explained.

"We put the substance to be tested in the bottom half, seal on the top, and introduce whatever forces or elements we want while the sensors fixed on the interior monitor the results. Despite being easily handled, it's a sturdy little device and is equipped with escape valves to release gases before they can build up dangerous pressure levels."

Jellico tapped the crystal wall separating them from the ball. "Shatterproof?"

"Of course. We don't take chances when dealing with potentially hazardous materials. Those balls are strong, but they're not invincible, and neither are my staff members who have to deal with them."

"What now?"

"We're more or less simulating the hold of a freighter.

We packed a proportionally equivalent volume of ammonium nitrate in the lab, and now we're going to subject it to some abuse."

"Electricity first, sir?" the white-garbed woman asked.

"Or a spark?"

"I believe Doctor Cofort mentioned a sudden, sharp rise in temperature. Try direct contact with fire."

"Very good, sir."

She bent over her console. Her fingers deftly touched one button, then moved to a finely calibrated dial. Immediately, a slender wire descended from the ceiling. It hovered over the sphere an instant before finding and entering a small hole at its top. "We'll start out with a relatively cool flame, like that of a normal fire," she said, "and increase the temperature every few milliseconds until there's a reaction ..."

A sudden, searing flash lit the sealed chamber followed

almost in the same instant by a sharp clap of sound clearly audible through the screening walls confining it. Rael stifled a scream as she threw her hands before her face in an instinctive effort to ward off the glowing objects hurtling toward them from the shattered ball.

It was over seemingly in the moment it began. When the observers collected themselves once more, they stared in awe at the place where the miniature laboratory had been.

All that remained of it now was a blackened patch on the floor and some twisted fragments scattered throughout the chamber.

"Lord of Light and Dark," whispered the Canuchean woman. "The valves were operational . . ."

"They just couldn't handle this," Jellico responded briskly. His fingers followed the line of the scratch a piece of shrapnel had gouged in the shielding material in front of him. If the barrier had not held, it would have sliced through his throat. "Your little lab wasn't designed to endure old-fashioned brute force," he told her. "It was meant to conduct sane experiments, not contain a bomb blast."

"A what?" Macgregofy demanded sharply.

Van Rycke shrugged. "What else would you call it? It even fitted the stereotype image—a round, explosive-filled metal ball with a fuse sticking out of it, or sticking into it

in this case."

"It behaved like one at any rate," Adroo agreed. He turned to his employee. "You recorded the whole thing, of course?"

"Naturally." There was no diffidence in that answer.

This was her job; she knew how to do it. "There were some returns from the lab as well. I won't know how much we got until I go over the recordings."

"Get on it, then see if you can replicate the results under a variety of circumstances. Use less expensive bomb cases.

We can recoup our costs later as part of a civic service claim, but we're not likely to collect in a hurry."

She smiled. "Yes, sir."

"And for the Lord of Light's sake, don't get yourself or anyone else killed. That may be a safe room, but it's not going to hold a baby planetbuster."

"I'll be careful. — What're we going to do, Mr. Macgregory? If a cargo goes up, the blast'll be almost literally infinitely worse than this little pop we just made. It won't be confined to a sterile, empty, shielded chamber, and more than one hold will almost certainly be involved even at the outset. Once the inevitable happens and the chain reaction starts, all the Federation's hells will be on us for a fact."

"We don't panic. — First, we've got to charge our blasters, get all our evidence together, then I hit the City Council with it. Luckily, everyone on it has some interest in the harbor. That should help jab a needle in their tails. — Doctor Cofort, I'll need your historical information for a backup."

"I've just got a temporary berth on the Queen and have nothing with me. However, I can tell you where to set your researchers looking."

"Good enough. Fasmit the details to me as soon as you get back to your ship. Mr. Van Rycke has the code."

The industrialist gave his head a sharp shake. "I've been remiss. It's past time for another evacuation drill."

"Evacuation?" Jan inquired.

"Canuche was spared during the Crater War. A lot of other worlds weren't. I've seen the tapes, both of those struck by the combatants and those hit even more viciously by jacks taking advantage of the general chaos. I've also seen evidence of what can happen when people don't respond correctly or in time to natural upheavals—storms, earthquakes, and the like.

"All my employees are required to keep on hand a week's supply of concentrates, water, first aid supplies, any necessary specific medications, and blankets for every human and animal member of their household plus a tent or other portable shelter for them all and a surplanetary transceiver to keep abreast of news. Periodically, I order them to carefully shut down the plant and feeder lines, take their emergency gear, and leave the city for the hardpan beyond. The only concession I make is to exclude ailing or handicapped persons and a caregiver if one is needed. I'm out to save lives, not take or endanger them."

"They put up with that?" Rael asked.

Macgregory smiled. All spacers had to accept discipline, but such blind obedience would be an alien concept to the mind of a Free Trader. "There's always something extra to sweeten the paychecks of those who comply. The odd one who doesn't finds a dismissal notice. Besides, one of the very few times in its history that Canuche Town suffered real injury from the ocean occurred only a few years back.

Our weather forecasters told us to expect trouble, and, because my people were concentrated in the most immediately threatened neighborhoods, I forced a full evacuation early. They spent one hell of a miserable night, but when

the waters came, nobody was hurt, and those whose property was damaged received financial help to repair or replace it.

"The rest of the populace wasn't told to leave until much later. There was haste» some confusion, and a little panic at the end. A handful of injuries occurred as a result and a few deaths, all of those among the fools who refused to go at all.

"My policy proved itself in the time of testing, and since then, I haven't gotten much static when I've demanded a refresher course on the procedures."

His lips tightened. "Now I see how much more important it is than even I'd realized. Danger's a lot closer to us than a chance attack from the stars or a freak, fairly readily predicted combination of foul weather or geophysical events."

Adroo squared his shoulders. "That's my business and Canuche Town's. Thank you, all three of you, for your help thus far. I may also want a deposition from you, just a description of our conversation today and what you observed here plus any knowledge you have about ammonium nitrate."

"That shouldn't be a problem," Miceal answered for his party. "I can't help with background detail, unfortunately, but I'll apply to Trade records and see if we can't uncover more for you. Van and Rael will, of course, do what they can as well."

"Again, my thanks. — In the meantime, I have a living to make. To get back to our original reason for meeting, Captain, how soon can you begin to accept deliveries?"

"Right away."

"We'll start tomorrow morning, then." He turned to Rael. "Here's my card, Doctor. It lists my private code. I haven't forgotten my offer. Hell, after all this, you needn't take a sales job. Name what you want, and if it isn't on the books now, I'll create a post to your specifications."

She nodded gravely. "I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Macgregory, and if I turn it down, it won't be for want of gratitude."