“I’m going to take a look at that engine,” Oscar told Adam. “See if I can figure out what happened.”
“Right,” Adam said distantly. He was watching the trolleybots move around. The damp rumpled road surface made it hard going for the little machines; they were designed to work on the flat floors of warehouses and loading bays. The crates rocked about at alarming angles, but the trolleybot holding clamps prevented them from sliding off.
Half of the plastic crates had been transferred when Adam suddenly shouted: “Stop.” His e-butler backed up the order, halting the trolleybot right in front of him. Adam walked over, followed by Wilson, Anna, and Jamas. The crate’s lid had a couple of recessed hand-size flip-over locks on each side. One was hanging open. Adam stared at the loose flap of dull metal, then started to pull the crate’s remaining flip locks open.
“What?” Wilson asked. “One of these can’t come loose?”
“No, it can’t,” Adam said. “They’re designed to stay shut, that’s the whole point. They don’t spring open just because they get jiggled around.” Rosamund and Kieran arrived as Adam pulled the final lock open. “Jamas, give me a hand.”
The two of them eased the lid off. Adam and Wilson shone their flashlights inside, and Adam found himself staring into a little private version of hell. “Oh, fuck it! I don’t believe this.”
The five components inside the crate had been wrapped in thick blue-green sponge plastic for travel. Somebody had used a maser on them. The sponge plastic had melted into a blackened tar, smearing the components and pooling in the bottom of the crate. All the casings that held the support electronics on the side of the components were badly tarnished where the maser beam had been applied.
There was complete silence as the group all stared down into the crate. After that, they began to glance around at each other. Adam couldn’t blame them; he was already trying to work out who was the most likely suspect himself, but he couldn’t allow the atmosphere to become too poisonous. They still had to work together. Already they were dividing back into Guardians and navy.
“Let’s stay calm until we figure this out,” he said. “I want the rest of the crates opened and inspected. Two people to each crate. We don’t need to create any extra mistrust right now.”
With the trolleybots now unloading every Volvo it took them a quarter of an hour to open every crate. Paula didn’t help. She was left sitting on the cab steps of the third truck with a blanket around her shoulders as the others took the lids off. In total, four crates had been sabotaged, all with a maser.
“They were good when we left Wessex,” Jamas insisted. “I know they were, I helped pack them.” He was glaring at Wilson and Oscar.
“Do we still have enough systems to make the planet’s revenge project work?” Wilson asked.
“I’m not sure,” Adam said. “Kieran, what do you think?”
“Dreaming heavens, I don’t know. I think it will work anyway, that’s what Bradley was saying; what we’re delivering makes it more efficient.”
“It increases the probability of success,” Wilson said.
“So this has just taken it down a notch, again,” Rosamund said.
“It’s one of us,” Kieran said fiercely. “One of you navy people.”
“Whoa there,” Adam said quickly. “It could have been anybody in our group.”
“You heard Jamas, the components were all fine when we packed them up.”
“If Jamas isn’t the one,” Anna said.
Jamas took a pace toward her. “Are you accusing me?”
“Stop it!” Adam gave them an exasperated look. “This only helps the Starflyer. We don’t know it’s one of the people here.” He gave Jamas a hard stare. “Back off. It could have been any one of us who traveled together, including you, me, and even Johansson.”
“Hey!” Jamas protested. “No fucking way is it Johansson.”
“Enough of this. We don’t know, and we’ll probably never find out until it’s all over anyway,” Adam said. “We got lucky seeing the crate was opened. From now on we just have to watch each other. That does not automatically mean that anyone here is guilty. Clear?” He stared down the Guardians, waiting until each one acknowledged his authority. It was done grudgingly, and with several sharp glances toward the navy people, but eventually they all nodded except for Jamas, who flung his hands in the air to admit defeat. “Thank you,” Adam said primly. “Wilson, from now on none of your team goes or does anything solo; that goes for us Guardians, too. Everything from this point is a joint venture, and that includes going to the can.”
“Good thinking,” Wilson said.
“I want the crates sealed back up again and back on the trucks. We will make our rendezvous, and the components we deliver will make a difference. Get to it.”
“A word,” Oscar said quietly as the others returned to the crates.
“What is it?” Adam asked. It was almost rhetorical, he could guess.
“It wasn’t entirely luck we had to unload the cases. The Volvo’s gear box was empty, the oil had all leaked out. One of the seals was loose. The whole thing overheated and seized up.”
