He ascended the pole with a few easy arm-over-arm pulls and stepped off on the third and top floor of the station. The briefing room was just past Cole Jackson’s office, near the station commander’s. He could hear Jackson’s voice, and Lonnie Stelnik’s. What fun, he thought. /Charlie, if they start grilling me, be ready with some good answers, all right?/
/// I’ll do my best. ///
“There he is!” said Stelnik, as Bandicut walked into the cramped conference room. The station commander’s administrative assistant, a thin Chinese woman named Li Chang, was there also.
“You might have let a guy know,” Bandicut said, taking a seat. “As of last night, you had me slated for the mines this morning.”
Cole Jackson pushed up his eyeglasses and smiled. “Don’t worry, John. We’ll get you right back down there. But first we’d like you to look over your report and tell us if there’s anything you’d like to add or change.” He pushed his glasses up his nose again and handed Bandicut a hard copy of his report.
Bandicut glanced at the paper. “Has Pacho found the problem yet?”
Stelnik snorted. Jackson answered, “Mr. Rawlins has not yet determined the cause of the malfunction, no. In fact, he admits to being rather puzzled.” Jackson glanced at Stelnik as though expecting a vulgar characterization. When none was forthcoming, he continued, “Therefore, John, it’s especially important that you search your memory for anything that could illuminate the cause of the incident. We’re holding up the survey for the time being, but we can’t do that forever.”
Bandicut nodded, and frowned down at his report. /For a pack of lies, it looks pretty reasonable,/ he muttered to the quarx. He swallowed, trying to maintain a normal expression. “No, I wish I could help you, but I think this really about covers it,” he said. /Give or take an alien or two./
/// Only one. ///
“Take your time, John. This is important.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Let me emphasize,” Jackson said, with a sideways glance at Chang, who would be reporting to the station commander. “We have certain quotas to fulfill—”
“You can’t put quotas on finding alien metal deposits,” Bandicut pointed out.
“Perhaps not. But we have quotas on volume and tonnage to be processed, and it is very important that we meet those quotas,” Jackson said, somewhat more sternly than was necessary. “This is not a game! We are here at enormous expense to the MINEXFO consortium, and there are important products to be developed from our findings. It is crucial that we demonstrate progress. There are consortium shareholders to satisfy, and potential competitors who might want to replace us here. I just want to make sure you understand that, John.”
“I understand it,” Bandicut said testily. “I’m ready to go back out as soon as you fix my rover.”
Jackson sat back, pressing his hands together in front of his face. After studying Bandicut for a moment, he nodded, with another glance at Chang, who had not said a word and looked as though she did not intend to. “Very well. But we cannot do so until we are certain we have established safe working conditions.” He cleared his throat noisily. “Well, then, if we might go through this report, we will try to clarify any points of confusion. Lonnie, would you like to take it from that angle?”
Stelnik’s eyes glinted as he sat forward and said, “Indeed. John, tell me—with reference to your report of lost communications and navigation—what was your first indication of trouble yesterday?”
Bandicut took a breath. /What did you tell that robot?/ he whispered silently.
/// A voltage spike,
scrambling the nav settings . . . ///
He caught himself in the act of nodding to the quarx, and let the movement continue as a nod to Stelnik. “Well, Lonnie—I was just out of visual range of marker Wendy when I saw a fluctuation in the nav. I suspected a voltage spike. But the comm dropped out before I could call in . . .”
If his listeners were forming opinions, he could not discern it on their faces as he continued spinning his tale.