Chapter 38: A Time to Observe
"Captain? I am detecting a signal from the Endeavour. Would you like me to put it through to your office?"
"Thank you, Gideon, just wait a moment, tiny, er, situation here," mumbled Rip, extricating himself from his current situation and moving it to one side. The situation in question ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it back into place, and giggled. Rip pulled a face at her, one eyebrow raised in a decidedly non-verbal reminder about pots and kettles. That only brought on another fit of giggling. He nodded at the floor below the monitor and Sara hopped down from the desk to hide. Only then did he turn and face the screen, and try to ignore the serious and deadly assassin sitting on his floor, trying not to laugh. "Okay, Gideon. Put him through."
"Captain Hunter!" The voice was definitely not masculine.
"Captain Baxter?" Rip frowned, edging a little closer to the screen, his brows knotting. "I thought you were on board the Electra. Is everything okay?"
"Amelia and I had a... a minor disagreement and I, we, thought it best to let the air clear a while," replied the first of Rip's converts. "It appears I am... out of practise sharing command of a vessel."
"Right," mused Rip dubiously. "So now you're sharing command of another vessel?"
"Captain Johnson has offered me the role of first officer whilst work on the vanishing point proceeds. He is busy overseeing the work. He needed someone to help him on the ship."
"Right," Rip repeated, still in the same doubtful tones. "And you're calling us because?"
"We require your assistance retrieving materials for the continuation of building work," she reported, her voice regaining some of its previous iron with the return to business. "An alloy we believe your Doctor Palmer is familiar with."
"Ah, Rip!" Luke called, striding into view behind Eve. He hung over the screen and peered down at Rip. "Looking rather rumpled, little brother. Hope we didn't wake you."
"No, no," Rip shook his head and folded his arms around himself. "Just seeing to, er, checking out, um, dealing with a bit of desk work that's been distracting me."
The snort of suppressed laughter was audible to Rip. He set his jaw and smiled, hoping the sound wouldn't have carried across the communication. The sight of Eve Baxter's puzzled frown told him it had. The sight of Luke Johnson's raised eyebrow told him at least one person on the other end of the call had worked out what it was. He glared at his foster brother. Luke grinned.
"Well, when you've quite finished being distracted," replied Johnson in gleeful tones, "perhaps you and your... crew?... could make your way back here with some of Doctor Palmer's infamous dwarf star alloy. It seems our systems find it difficult enough to analyse and impossible to synthesise, so..."
"What are you planning on using it for?" Rip blinked, ignoring the way his brother's eyes darted around the room behind him, looking for clues.
"We'll send Gideon the specifics," muttered an increasingly side-tracked Luke Johnson. "It's part of the power supply for the new, tamperproof Oculus. Do make sure you bring the lovely Miss Lance. It would be so nice to see her again. Are you quite well?"
The last comment had accompanied a sudden refocusing of Luke's gaze on Rip when the latter seemed to stumble. Rip leant back against the desk, out of reach of Sara's feet. "Yes, yes, fine. Just a little... A cramp in my leg, that's all. I'm fine."
Luke smiled sweetly. "Well, I'm sure Miss Lance will be able to help you with that. She did seem to be so good with her hands. Or feet. See you soon."
The monitor flickered into darkness. Rip sank to the floor and stretched out his legs. They tangled with Sara's. "Two weeks and we're busted already! Thank you, madam! We were nearly through undetected until you decided..."
"Oh, we were not 'undetected', Captain, don't you believe it!" Sara chortled, sliding her bare toes up his calf in an manoeuvre similar to the one she had employed during the transmission. "Baxter might not have spotted it, but Luke? He knew you had somebody here from the outset. He even called me out before I went anywhere near your knee."
Rip caught her ankle and dragged her towards him. "Is that a fact?"
Sara squealed with laughter as she landed on her back, Rip leaning over her. "I thought we had a mission to be getting on with. Don't you want to get the crew together."
"Well," sighed Rip, running his hand up her leg to her waist and leaning down to kiss her. "Luke did say when I was finished being distracted."
"That could take a while," grinned Sara, deciding then and there if his hair wasn't at least twice as messed up as it had been before they were interrupted, she wasn't doing things right.
"It's a time ship," muttered Rip between kisses.
XXXX
Two days in and Leonard came up against the first big change in the architecture that he had seen since entering the tunnels. The ground had levelled off somewhere around about the middle of the day, and the tunnel had stopped spiralling and started going straight. In which direction, he could hardly be certain, but he guessed it was following the line of the Temple Mount, if he wasn't lower than the base of it already. The way travelled in a straight line for hours then, just as Leonard was starting to think it was maybe time for the first of his two small evening meals, it branched. He found himself staring at a wall with two seemingly identical tunnels extending off to his left and his right. Something was written on the wall, but from here he couldn't make out what it said.
"Damn," he swore softly, turning his head from one tunnel to the other. There had to be some kind of clue, he thought: something that would tell whoever came down here in years to come - at least whoever was supposed to come down here - which route to pick. Something deep down in his gut, or maybe crouched like a tiger at the back of his mind, however, was warning him that maybe there might be something for people who were not supposed to be down here too.
Dumping the remaining sacks on the floor, Leonard crouched down and examined the floor of the tunnel with his torch. The warm orange of the faintly rustling flame wasn't the most even of light sources. He propped it up against the wall and retrieved two candles from one of his sacks. With each one lit and carefully placed on either side of the junction, there was just about enough light to get a decent view of the place. Torch back in hand, he checked over the floor again. Nothing. The dust of centuries lay undisturbed.
Still wary of stepping out into the junction, Leonard held the torch out at arms length to read the words on the opposite wall. They were in the same odd script as the cuts on the ring, but whatever miracles gave his mind the power to translate Hebrew, Arabic and all the other forms of writing he had so far come across, once he had learned enough of it, had already got to work on these. Before his eyes the words transformed, becoming recognisable characters first, then translating themselves into his own tongue as he read them.
"The pious man looks to God for guidance," muttered the thief. "Hmm."
He cast his mind back to the now numerous services he had attended. Between the memories of Christian masses, prayers and offices, other memories flashed. Golden memories, of a golden land. Memories of priests, prophets and kings. In all those memories, Christian or not, the worshippers all had one thing in common. He looked up.
The ceiling above him was boringly blank. Tentative in the extreme, Leonard stepped out into the space between the tunnels. No pit opened up beneath him. No spikes fell from above. No whirring blade flashed out to chop his head off. He waited.
Nope.
Nothing.
With a sigh of relief, or perhaps disappointment, Leonard looked between the two tunnels again. This time his eyes were on the ceiling, the torch still held out before him to cast its light upwards. Now he saw the difference. Just slightly, on the edge of his vision. He stepped toward the tunnel in question and looked harder, but the angle was odd and he couldn't quite be certain. Memories flashed through his mind once more. Kneel. When the people looked to their god in supplication, they didn't just look up, they knelt.
He should know.
He dropped to his knees.
The image on the ceiling twisted into focus, like a piece of sidewalk art designed to trick the viewer into almost walking round a painted hole. He blinked. That memory was new. Old and new at the same time, anyway. He would have to try and hold on to it. New memories were resurfacing less and less, and some of the old ones were fading too. Leonard's eyes flitted back to the picture. It was a scene from the Bible. The old testament, of course, right back to the Pentateuch. Shimmering where the gilding outlined the central figure, Leonard saw the image of a golden calf surrounded by upturned faces. Exodus. The Israelites when Moses took too long coming down from the mountain. Their false god.
Leonard rose and turned the other way, kneeling by the edge of the opposite tunnel just to be certain. Another scene tilted into view. Exodus again. The parting of the red sea. When the Israelites had shown their faith and followed the leadership of Moses. This was his way. This was the path he must take.
XXXX
The crew were gathered around the holodesk, looking at a three dimensional projection Gideon had provided for them. It was the schematics for the Oculus power supply.
"I don't know who they've got working on this, but it looks all good to me," observed Doctor Palmer, transferring his gaze between the projection and the screens of circuit diagrams below it.
"I concur, Doctor," nodded Professor Stein, scrolling through lists of calculations at his monitor. "The science appears sound."
"Yeah, maybe, but they're gonna need some kind of major league coolant system in play if they ever want to actually use it," pointed out Jax.
"Dwarf star tech is the cleanest and the coolest in the galaxy!" Ray protested.
"That we know of," added Stein, raising a peremptory hand.
"That we know of," agreed Palmer.
"It's not the dwarf star tech I'm worried about," said Jax, pointing at the centre of the display. "At least not just that. It's this part here. This is designed to take in and channel all of the wellspring, right? Well, I know I wasn't in there with you guys, but from what I know of time tech and dwarf star tech, and from what Gideon's taught me about the wellspring, if you fire the entirety of the wellspring through there, past the dwarf star alloy, the temporal friction it causes would create a ton of heat energy and the galaxy's weirdest electromagnet."
"Heat?" Mick cut in, his eyes reflecting the projection. "Heat is good. I like heat."
"Not this heat, Mister Rory," murmured Rip, a frown lining his features.
"Translation?" Sara tried, looking from physicist, to engineer, to mechanic, then back to Rip. A frown formed on her own face. She didn't like seeing him so weighted down. Life didn't do 'happily ever afters', but surely they were both due a 'happily for a little while' by now. Not stolen moments hidden from everyone except the computer who, with unerring accuracy, always seemed to pick the worst times to interrupt them, but really happy. Happy deep down. But maybe that wasn't something she could have with someone who saw her as a way to blot out the pain. Someone she saw the same way.
Didn't she?
Ray tried to explain. "Jax is right. Without a coolant system the friction created will build up so much heat energy that even the alloy itself will start to dissociate..."
"Use smaller words, Haircut!" Mick cut in. "Preferably fewer of 'em too!"
"You know the coolant system on your gun, Mister Rory?" Rex tried, picking a subject he knew the arsonist at least cared about.
"Yeah," Mick returned, watching him askance. "What about it?"
"What would happen to your gun without it?"
Mick chortled. "It would go boom!" His eyes widened at the last word, picturing the dancing of the flames, then fascinated imagination darkened to anger. "And I'd burn up another family."
An uneasy silence settled on the group.
"The same would happen here," murmured Rip, his quiet, steady voice drawing the light back in to expel the darkness. "Mister Jackson, if you and Doctor Palmer would work on designing a coolant system for the Oculus, I will let Captain Johnson know of our findings."
"Actually, I could use the Professor's help in working out a way to track down more dwarf star," requested Ray. "It won't matter about a coolant system if we don't have the stuff to make the power supply module in the first place."
"Of course," nodded Rip, "Quite right. Mister Jackson, I will come and help you with the designs as soon as I am finished here."
"I could help," piped up a voice from a chair.
Rip looked round to Jesse. "Miss Wells. Is this not all still a bit new to you?"
"I'm a quick study," grinned the girl. "Besides: it's still just a coolant system, right? My Dad and I worked together designing the one for my suit. I know my way round them."
"Very well, if you follow Mister Jackson there I am sure he will put your skills to good use." Rip paused, staring at nothing for a moment while the four filed out to their allotted tasks, then turned to Rex. "Doctor Tyler, it strikes me that finding any more of this alloy may require a certain specialist skill that only yourself and Madame Jiwe possess. Please make sure you have some of your serum ready. We may also encounter various other dangers that, while not unusual for this team, would still warrant having a medic on standby and the medical bay fully stocked. Please see to it."
Rex nodded and left.
Mick watched him go. "Anyone else feeling outnumbered by nerds here?"
"There's nothing wrong with having a few nerds around," replied Sara, shooting a sly smile across the holotable at Rip while Mick's attention was still on the door. "Especially ones that are good with their hands."
Rip looked back down to the monitor and fought to keep a straight face. Sara saw his jaw tighten and she smirked. He was too easy to wind up.
"At least they are of more use than those content to sit back and do nothing," Amaya commented from behind Sara and Mick, brushing none too gently past Sara to get to the holotable. When she spoke next, there was something in the ingratiating way she said it that made her lucky she couldn't see Sara's face. "What can I do, Captain?"
"Tend to your weapons, my warriors," breathed Rip, not daring to look up. "For who knows what awaits us."
XXXX
"She does not like me," said Sara, peering down at the star chart Rip had unrolled and weighted down on his round desk. Amaya's comment earlier in the day hadn't been the first snide remark of their acquaintance, and Sara was sure it wouldn't be the last either.
"Just give her time," Rip breezed, leaning down on the desk and looking up at her. He turned onto his side and studied her face, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of golden hair behind her ear. He let his hand linger. "She barely knows you. The real you. She barely knows anyone. She barely likes anyone."
"She likes you," Sara sing-songed, tipping her head to one side to meet his hand, her eyebrows raised.
"She knows me," Rip reminded her, letting his thumb drift gently over her cheek. "She trusts me. There's a difference."
Sara looked at him with a smirk, raising one eyebrow further.
"We are an entirely different kettle of fish," he shook his head, smiling despite himself at the memory Sara had invoked.
"We're pretty much an entirely different everything compared to the world as she sees it," Sara commented.
Rip stood up and turned her face upwards to kiss her. "Doesn't matter what we are," he kissed her again. "Or who she likes," another kiss, "or doesn't like," and again. "It won't affect anything," another kiss, "that's going on between us."
Sara pulled away from a sixth gentle, lingering kiss and waved a hand at the star chart. "I thought what was going on between us right now was you teaching me how to read these things."
Rip pulled her closer and kissed her again. "Nah, I found something more interesting to do."
"This is important," she smiled, trying to ignore the lips trailing soft kisses down her neck. Not trying too hard, though.
"So is this," he murmured into her ear. This time, when their lips met again, she didn't pull away.