Dave Freer & Eric Flint - Pyramid 02 - Pyramid Power (ARC) v1.0

322 Pages·2016·1.21 MB·English

by  Freer Dave

PYRAMID
POWER
(ARC)
by
Eric Flint & Dave Freer
Copyright © 2007
A Baen Books Original
ISBN 10: 1-4165-2130-5
ISBN 13: 978-1-4165-2130-3
Cover art by Bob Eggleton
First printing, August 2007
CONTENT

DEDICATION
PART I Fools rush in
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
PART II My kingdom for a Norse
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
PART III To sleep, perchance to dream...
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
PART IV When Hel freezes over
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Appendix
DEDICATION

To the memory of Dorothy Hermine Bagnall

NOTE: Leave space for one map
PART I

Fools rush in
Chapter 1

Professor Miggy Tremelo, once a University of Chicago senior administrator
and Professor of High Energy Physics, and now the head of the National Science
Advisory Council which was charged with investigating the alien Krim artifact,
slammed the phone down. He'd always thought university bureaucracy and
politics were tough, but he'd mastered them. He was well regarded in military
research circles. His work at Nellis had him a security clearance from here to the
middle of next week. It still hadn't prepared him for the new Pyramid Security
Agency that the U.S. government had set up in the wake of the Krim Pyramid
crisis.
Alas—as had happened in times past—the administration had felt compelled
to prove to the electorate that it was Doing Something, and Congress had fallen
all over itself to comply with the President's proposals. Indeed, Congress had
added any number of silly curlicues of its own.
The worst of it, from Miggy's viewpoint, had been the creation of a brand
new Pyramid Security Agency to "oversee all national security issues involving
the alien menace." The end result had been a ramshackle, hastily slapped-
together new bureaucracy—just what the country didn't need. With, to make
things perfect, a newly-appointed director whose chief qualification for the post
seemed to be nothing more than that Helen Garnett was more ambitious than
Lucifer and had superb skills when it came to political infighting and
backstabbing within the Beltway.
Needless to say, the existing security agencies had been exceedingly
disgruntled by the situation. And, needless to say, had immediately retaliated
when Garnett demanded they provide her with the required security personnel.
No doubt some competent people had made the transfer, as well. But from what
Miggy could see, the PSA had become a classic instance of what federal
employees meant by the slang term "turkey farm." The CIA, the FBI and
everyone up to and including the Coast Guard had found a great place to transfer
every lackwit, goofball and loose screw in their ranks.
Without thinking, he turned his head and shouted: "Marie, help! I need
coffee!"
But there was no clatter, no cheerful obscenity-laden reply from the outer
office. Instead, rather timidly, a head peered around the door. Not Marie Jackson
or Marie Jackson's style. "Sir?"
Miggy bit back his response. It was not Rachel Clements' fault that Marie
wasn't in the front office. Rachel was just a temp with a great security clearance,
who'd replaced Marie after she'd gone on sick leave. With no skills in the coffee-
making department, unfortunately.
One the bright side, she was pleasant enough, unlike the troll out of Brothers
Grimm the security establishment had thrust onto him last time, before he got
Marie.
"Forget it, Rachel. Look I'll need you to place two calls for me. Colonel
Robert McNamara of the 101st, and Professor Jerry Lukacs. If you fail to get
Jerry at his own number, try Doctor De Beer's apartment." He allowed himself a
small smile. "It's just possible that he might be there."
She nodded. "Yes, Sir. Mrs. Jackson called while you were on the other line
to the PSA. She said she didn't want to waste her life on hold. She said to tell
you that she and Lamont are coming in this morning. She said she needs to talk
to you."
Miggy smiled. "Well, that's one piece of good news."
"She didn't sound too happy," said Clements doubtfully. "Not like herself at
all."
*
Liz De Beer, Marine biologist, graduate of both Cape Town and Rhodes
Universities (which had taught her a lot less than her time at sea as a Scientific
observer, especially about expletives) wondered just how she could deal with
someone who was definitely not a morning person. She tended to wake up when
it got light, and crash early. As long as she had the caffeine kick start, she was
even reasonably good tempered in the morning. The man sleeping peacefully
next to her, on the other hand, considered midday way too early and first light
not a bad time to go to sleep.
Liz had to admit that was Jerry Lukacs' most serious fault, other than a major
inability to speak anything but academese in public. Granted, he wasn't a
beefcake—although he had built some impressive wiry muscle in the
mythworlds. Still, he was as solid as a rock when you needed him, and one of
the few men she couldn't walk all over, mentally, physically, or in terms of
courage. That had to be worth some tolerance of nocturnal behavior, she figured.
She decided she'd give him until 8.30. She was due another thrilling day with
the US Immigration and Naturalization Service. "La migra," as Sergeant Anibal
Cruz called them.
The phone rang. That was possibly another call from the South African
embassy. Funny, the South African government, who had been their usual
unhelpful selves when she'd needed them, were falling over themselves to get
her home, when she didn't want to go. Jerry said that wasn't an African, but a
world-wide phenomena. She wasn't sure that that was helpful information, but la
migra were doing their best to prove him right.
Jerry hadn't even stirred, although the phone was an inch and half from his
ear. She reached over him and snagged it. "Hello. Liz de Beer speaking."
"I'm trying to reach Dr. Jerry Lukacs for Professor Tremelo," said the
American midwest accent on the other end.
"Well, he's here," admitted Liz, "but actually speaking to him before he's had
coffee is probably a lost cause. I can try, but you'd do better to call back in ten
minutes." She knew that that was a little optimistic. "Ask Miggy if I can help. "
There was a moment's silence. Then the woman said: "Please hold for
Professor Tremelo."
"You'd think that by now I'd have managed to get it into my head that he's not
an early riser," said Miggy Tremelo, apologetically. "Sorry. These Pyramid
Security Agency idiots are turning my mind to cheese, to keep theirs company.
I've already spent ten minutes getting nowhere fast this morning. The fact that
we've been working in close proximity to the pyramid for the last two weeks,
and we know what we're doing, is beyond that woman."
That woman had become Miggy Tremolo's all-purpose reference to Helen
Garnett, the head of the PSA. "And without Marie," he said, almost whining, "I
have to bull my own way to the top of the food-chain."
"And here you stop part way up it again," said Liz cheerfully. "It's all right. I
was going to wake him in the next ten minutes or so anyway. He just won't make
much sense until the coffee has time to work on his speech centers. What can I
do for you, or what can I have Jerry do for you, once I get him up?"
"I'm afraid I've got another battery of tests I need to have run on all the
'escapees'. And I wanted to see if Jerry could shed some more light on the
inconsistencies in the myths that the Krim is creating."
"Recreating is more like it," said Liz. "The mythworlds seemed to derive their
life from the myths in some way. But I'm sorry, I can't make it in to your office
today. I need a visa extension, and I've got to spend the day in the offices of the
INS. Why the Krim pyramid couldn't have landed on them instead of the
University of Chicago's perfectly nice research library, I do not know."
"Because the Krim were using the location of the original atom bomb fission
experiments as a target locator—and the INS had its meltdown sometime in the