“
But it is, Captain, I assure you,
”
said Kof field.
“
It is. I
’
ll be happy to explain after the fact. Please.
”
There was a heartbeat
’
s worth of silence before Marquez answered, a silence that could have meant a great many things.
“
Well, if ignorance makes a man objective, I guess I will be, because I don
’
t know a damn thing. It
’
ll take a few minutes to collect the equipment from stores. I
’
ll be there as soon as I can.
”
From the look on Marquez
’
s face when Koffield opened the cabin hatch, Koffield could see that he had come down more than a peg or two in Marquez
’
s estimation. Never mind. There were other things more important than the captain
’
s good opinion.
“
Thank you for coming, Captain,
”
said Koffield.
“
If you could bring the longwatch camera and the secured container in here, we can begin.
”
“
Whatever you say, Admiral,
”
Marquez replied as- he carried the equipment in. It was plain from his tone of voice that he was humoring Koffield.
“
I know all this seems foolish, Captain. I
’
ll bet you
’
re wondering if I
’
m all the way back from cryosleep yet.
”
Marquez shrugged as he set the container down on the deck.
“
Some people
are
a little out of it for the first day or so after. Revival jag, they call it. Makes them act a little strange.
”
“
I assure you, I
’
m not one of them. There
’
s a reason for all this, and I
’
ll explain it in just a few minutes. But for now—please activate the longwatch camera and place it where it will be able to see both of us.
”
“
All right,
”
Marquez said, still plainly far from convinced. He pulled the table open, started the camera, and set it down.
The camera was a standard unit, a rounded oblong black block, about ten by four by four centimeters. It had a lens stuck in one end, and a folding tripod and two or three kinds of built-in clamps attached to the base.
Longwatch cameras had on switches, but no off. Once they started sight-and-sound recording, they could not be stopped by any means, short of destroying the camera itself. They simply kept recording for a standard year, no matter what, and then shut themselves off. Though the camera itself could not be stopped once started, it was possible to access the stored sound and imagery from the holographic molecular memory whether or not the camera was still recording. The camera recorded infrared as well as visual light. Darkness was no shield against it. Marquez glanced at his wrist data watch.
“
Camera activated at approximately day 223, hour 4, minute 16, second mark—
ten
—in standard year 5339,
”
Marquez said, following the standard procedure for activating a longwatch.
“
Time coordinates approximate, due to equipment failure. Time as given derived from planetary positional fix. The camera is in Admiral Anton Koffield
’
s cabin aboard the
Dom Pedro IV,
Captain Felipe Henrique Marquez commanding. Captain Marquez speaking. The ship is at present approximately two-point-three billion kilometers from the planet Solace,, approaching the planet from planetary system north on a course exactly perpendicular to the planet
’
s orbital plane.
”
“
Thank you, Captain,
”
Koffield said. He faced the camera and let it get a good look at him.
“
I am Anton Koffield, inactive-duty rear admiral in the Chronologic Patrol.
”
He turned toward Marquez and thought for a moment. It was important that he phrase his questions in as neutral a fashion as possible. If this recording was used as evidence at some future date, it might well be vitally important to demonstrate that he had not led the witness. Strange to think in such terms. What sort of group, exactly, was going to see this record? he wondered. A scientific peer-review board? A commission of inquiry? A court-martial? A competency panel convened to determine if he, Koffield, were insane? All of them, perhaps. Assuming there was anyone left alive to staff any such groups in the first place.
“
Captain, you revived me from cryosleep, did you not?
”
“
Yes, I did.
”
“
When?
”
Marquez shrugged, a bit petulantly, and glanced at his datawatch again.
“
Let
’
s see. I started the procedure about six hours ago. You came fully awake about ninety minutes ago, and were strong enough to leave the revival chamber about an hour ago.
”
“
What did you do once I was strong enough?
”
“
I led you to this cabin. Mostly you were able to walk on your own, but I gave you some help.
”
“
What did I do when I got here?
”
Marquez looked at Koffield with something close to suspicion.
“
You
said
you were going to shower, dress, and eat. That
’
s what most people do, and by the look and the—ah—smell of you, that
’
s what you did. But I closed the hatch on you as soon as I delivered you and went forward to the control center. I have no way of knowing what else you did.
”
“
Perhaps you do,
”
Koffield said.
“
If this ship operates anything like a Chronologic Patrol ship, there is an automated event recorder that logs virtually every mechanical and electronic action on board, from main engine firing down to what hatches are open and shut, and air-mix and temperature readings in every compartment. The logs are quite useful in confirming maintenance, monitoring environmental systems, reconstructing accidents, and so on.
”
“
Sure, the
DP-IV
has an event recorder. But the log file was wiped clean when I came out of stasis. Nothing on it about our trip here.
”
“
But has it been operating normally since our arrival?
”
“
So far as I know.
”
“
Please consult the log now and report on hatch status and voice and data communications from this cabin for the last six hours.
”
“
Whatever you say,
”
Marquez said, his tone of voice teetering on the edge of insolence. He operated the controls on his datawatch, linking it to the ship
’
s computers and pulling up the information he wanted.
“
According to this, the hatch has only been opened twice—for thirty seconds at 0309 hours, and for forty-two seconds at 0413. No data communications via the terminal, and the voice-comm system was used just once, at 0402.
”
“
Interpret, please.
”
Marquez looked puzzled.
“
Well, I guess, in other words, I led you here, you shut the hatch on me, and it didn
’
t open again until I came back and you opened it for me. And except for calling me to come here a few minutes ago, you didn
’
t use the voice-comm system, and you didn
’
t use the data system at all.
”
“
Very well. Please give the longwatch a clear close-up of your data watch display.
”
Marquez took the datawatch off, shoved it in close to the longwatch, and then put it back on again.
“
All right,
”
he said,
“
now what?
”
“
We
’
re nearly done here,
”
Koffield said.
“
Please answer a few more questions. I have either been in your presence, or in a sealed room, since revival. Correct?
”
“
Correct. Assuming you
’
re not a magician, and the log has been working properly.
”
“
And I have had no access to any source of meaningful information, except yourself, regarding present conditions on the planet Solace, or indeed on any other subject, since my revival?
”
“
Ah, right,
”
Marquez said, clearly growing more cautious and more confused.
“
If the event recorder log is accurate, that
’
s right.
”
“
Please tell me all that you know about present conditions on Solace.
”
“
How the hell would I know?
”
Marquez asked irritably.
“
We
’
re a hundred twenty-seven years overdue. About the same as it was last time I was here, I guess. All I know is that it
’
s still there, because I got a fix on it. Comm systems are all still locked out, and I haven
’
t exactly had time to send in long-range probes. I haven
’
t even sent in a query ping yet.
”
“
You have no current information, and therefore could not possibly give me any. Is that correct?
”
“
Correct.
”
“
Thank you. With all that established, I think I can now leave my quarters. If you could please take up the longwatch and keep it pointed more or less toward me, I
’
d like us to head back to the revival chamber now. I
’
ll carry the secured container.
”
Marquez seemed past responding. He simply picked up the camera and did as Koffield asked, following him out into the corridor and back toward the revival chamber.
Koffield
’
s cryocan was still there, hanging on the service support, a meter or so above the deck. The can was a long white lozenge-shape, the coffin-type lid still open, and a slight residue of cryosleep gel still clinging to the can
’
s interior. The air in the revival chamber was redolent with the sickly sweet odor of oxidized cryosleep gel, gone bad the moment it came in contact with breathable air. The decomposing cryogel smelled exactly like rotting flesh. Memories of those nightmare times surged up into his mind, but he forced them all back down.
Besides, it was not the can
’
s main interior that concerned him at the moment. There was a smaller compartment on the bottom end of the can, a forty-centimeter-wide pullout drawer directly below where the cryosleep subject
’
s feet would be. It was, in essence, the luggage compartment for the can.
The use of cryosleep was not limited to space travel. Many medical patients used it to avoid further pain or physical degeneration during the months or years it might take to grow a replacement organ. Some overcrowded space habs might put a certain percentage of their populace on ice for a time—voluntarily or otherwise—to stretch food and air until new capacity could be built. Many military organizations trained their conscripted soldiers and froze them for the duration of their periods of service, reviving them only at the end of their conscription, or when and where a crisis developed. Ice soldiers, they called them.
There were many uses, licit and illicit, for cryosleep, but no matter what reason there might be for freezing a person, there were few potential victims of crime more helpless than cryosleep subjects—and, aside from ice soldiers, cryo subjects tended to pay for their own cryo. Only very well off people could afford the extremely expensive process. It tended to be rich people who used cryo, and that meant the personal pack of a cryo canister was a most tempting target for thieves. Personal-pack compartments, therefore, were very well protected.
Even the minimal drain of power on an electronic or photronic system could add up to a great deal of power, when multiplied over centuries of operation and the dozens or hundreds of cryocans that might be aboard a timeshaft ship. Personal-pack compartments were therefore usually sealed and locked by techniques and devices that would have been utterly familiar to any well-to-do citizen of nineteenth-century Earth. A dial-style combination lock and blobs of sealing wax might seem an incredibly old-fashioned, if not utterly antique, or even ancient, method of keeping valuables secure, but they worked.
Even if they looked antique, both lock and sealing wax were made of quite modern and sophisticated materials. Any energy pulse strong enough to break open the lock would destroy the personal pack, the cryocan, and probably the thief. The sealing
“
wax
”
was a high-strength memory polymer resin, by itself strong enough to resist any attempt to pry it off, melt it off, or chip it off. In theory, at least, the seals would dissolve in response to Koffield
’
s thumbprint. On the other hand, 127 years was a long time for a memory polymer to remember a pattern. Sometimes the seals got temperamental after too long at low temperature.