The ship accommodations were minimal on Kotto’s journey to Osquivel, but he didn’t notice one bit. His attention was elsewhere. He had already forgotten about the work on Theroc and delved into other problems and mysteries.
Cesca Peroni had arranged a spare bunk for him on an outbound cargo escort to the Osquivel shipyards. He had food, water, and air. That was all he needed. The captain of the cargo escort was a solitary person who didn’t particularly welcome passengers, but since the eccentric engineer kept to himself and his calculations, the two men got along well.
En route, Kotto remained preoccupied with the idea of investigating a genuine hydrogue ship—intact! His mind crackled with possibilities. Unfortunately, so little was known about drogue vessels that he couldn’t even extrapolate or develop theories until he saw it. So he turned his restless mind to other challenges.
First it had been impossible heat on Isperos, where several people had lost their lives. So he resolved to do better on ultracold Jonah 12, where lakes of liquid methane surrounded by icebergs of frozen ammonia gave the planetoid a fairyland appearance. Because the atmospheric gases were in solid form, Roamer workers in durable tractors had been able to go out with shovel apparatus and scoop the hydrogen right off the ground.
But most man-made mechanical systems could not function for long in such a cold environment. Now, on his bunk, Kotto did a complete revamp of the crawlers and extractors, then designed a more compact kind of vacuum-baffle insulation for the engines.
He had never considered himself a particularly adventurous man, but he remembered Cesca Peroni’s challenge to all Roamers on the day she’d become Speaker, taking over the job from Kotto’s mother. The young woman had looked so intent, so beautiful, and so dedicated that Kotto had made up his mind not to disappoint her. . . .
In his free time, he also studied all published documents about Klikiss transportals and even some of the papers about the Klikiss Torch. The insectoid civilization had developed completely alien forms of mathematics and engineering, but it was all intriguing, and Kotto liked to put ideas together in different ways. His thoughts were like a projectile ricocheting at random in zero gravity.
But when the cargo escort reached its destination, Kotto put everything in the back of his mind. Barrel-chested Del Kellum met him when the ship docked. Kellum stood with his hands on his hips and his bushy beard protruding. “By damn, Kotto, your mother always told us we should listen to your harebrained ideas. Now you get a chance to be as harebrained as you like.”
Kotto took no insult from the clan leader’s bluster. “I appreciate the opportunity.” He glanced around inside the docking room. “So where is the derelict? I’m anxious to get started.”
“We wouldn’t keep a thing like that near our populated facilities—the drogues might come looking for it.” He clapped a hand on Kotto’s shoulder and led him deeper inside. “No, some of my workers took it to the other side of the rings, where it sits all alone, just waiting for you.”
On a wall screen, Kellum projected an orbital diagram with a marker blip indicating where the small hydrogue sphere had been placed in a stable orbit at the outer fringe of the ring. “I’ve assigned five of our Listener and Friendly compies to be your assistants, but you’ll be the only human out there. Unless you need somebody else?” He raised his eyebrows, hoping Kotto wouldn’t disagree.
The engineer shook his head. “No, I’d prefer to be by myself.”
“Good. I’ve got a full stash of supplies, diagnostics, and lab equipment ready for you to go.” When Kellum called up a photographic image of the alien sphere, Kotto stared at it, mesmerized. “Now you figure the thing out.”