Dangerous Evolution (15 page)

I started to ask why they’d been taken to Saveq, but stopped
myself when it all started to come together in my head. No one would look for
either one of them there, and they would have a ready supply of victims to examine
while trying to find a cure. It would have worked too—if we hadn’t been able to
locate Val.

“Where are you with the cure now?” I asked them both.

“We know exactly why the breakdown occurs,” Sa said, “thanks to
our research on Seveq. And Doctor Evans has even constructed a treatment
therapy that should destroy the virus.”

“Then why aren’t you two happy?” I asked, noticing the dour faces
on both the scientists.

“Because we need access to live tissue from the silicon child to correctly
synthesize and test the drug,” Val said. “Without it, we can’t create the
treatment. We now know what the virus is, and how to cure it, but we need
that
child.”

I saw the spark in Evan’s eyes, and I knew where this was heading.
“How do you even know this ‘Silicon Sentient’ is still a child, or even alive
for that matter. And even if it is, how would we find it?”

“I dated the tissue at a little over a year old,” Val said. “It is
definitely a child, Ben—a remarkable child that could save an entire
civilization.”

No hyperbole there. But that only answered part of the question.

After an uneasy silence, Val confessed, “I have no idea if it’s
still alive, or how to find it.”        

And there was the other part, just as I had suspected.

“Then how would you recommend we proceed?” I asked.

I looked at them each in turn, giving them both ample opportunity
to speak, but they remained silent.

“Very well,” I said. “I should let you both know that this entire mission
is…ah…let’s just say unauthorized. Sector Security didn’t want us crossing The
Verge—they feared it might start a war—so we came on our own instead. No back
up, limited intelligence sources and absolutely no chance of rescue if anything
goes wrong.” I let that sink in for a moment.

“Del tells me that it is also operating independently, and is likewise
without any resources. We are in no position to mount a search for this child.”

Val seemed to understand our predicament, but Sa reacted strongly,
“
I
will call my people, Commander, and we will have all the help we
need.”

“You’re welcome to try, Doctor, and I hope you’re right, but consult
with Del first. The ambassador has been monitoring the information channels, and
is more up to date with the state of affairs since your capture. The situation
seems pretty volatile, so find out what’s going on—and who we can trust—before
contacting anyone. Understood?”

“Of course. I will go speak with the ambassador immediately,” Sa
said, then promptly left the hangar.

“I think I’ll grab my pad and try to access the news from Sector
space as well,” Stinson said, “Unofficially of course, and with much
discretion.” He grinned then stood up to leave.

“That’s probably a good idea,” I agreed. “Things were already
getting a little tense, even before we crossed The Verge.”

Stinson’s departure left me alone with Val, and with only two of
us in the room, the hangar suddenly seemed larger, and much quieter. I could
see her relax with everyone else gone, becoming more vulnerable, sad even. The
events of the past few days seemed to be catching up with her.

“My driver…Beval. He’s dead isn’t he?” she asked.

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“I…I saw him get shot. I just hoped that somehow he made it. But they
opened the canopy...” Her eyes were misty, and I could tell that she was
choking back a lot of emotion. It had probably been building up since she was
kidnapped.

I tried to change the subject. “Your sister was very worried about
you—so was everyone else in the dome. They will be thrilled when I let them
know you’re okay.”

“Thank you for coming for me,” Val whispered. She looked down at
her clothing, dirty and smeared with Sentient blood, and started crying. “I
knew they were going to kill me…I knew. I was going to
die
. They killed
Bev, and I was…”She fought to get the words out through choked sobs; her chest
heaving as she struggled to breath.

I sat down next to her and put my arm around her shoulder. “Try to
relax, “I said. “You’re safe now. Everything is going to be okay.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I’ve just never seen someone killed like
that before. Poor Bev, and then on the planet—so many bodies…so much death. I
just want to go home.”

I tried to sound reassuring, “We are taking you there now, Miss
Evans—headed straight to The Verge as quickly as the ship can move. With any
luck, by this time tomorrow you’ll be back in the dome working on your
research.”

Her face turned angry. “My research! Without that child my
research is dead. And so are the Sentients.”

After seeing the massive armada forming at Seveq—realizing the
danger it might represent to humanity—I wasn’t able to hide my ambivalence very
well. She saw it on my face. “
Commander
,” she said sharply, pulling away
from me, “The Sentients are people too. I know history as well as you do, I
lived
it. I was around when we first encountered them.”

“So was I,” I countered. “I was in Sector Security at the time.”

That surprised her.

“How old?” she asked.

“143, give or take a few months.”

She managed a smile. “You must have been one of the first.”

“That’s what they told us. It was all experimental back then of
course. Back even before the side effects were known.”

She frowned, her face becoming serious. “Children?” she asked.

“I never got the chance, I’m afraid.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “If I had known…”

“It’s not
your
fault,” I said with finality—determined to
bring the conversation back on topic. “About the Sentients…”

“Commander…Ben,” she said, softening her tone, “I spent months
with Del. I can tell you with absolute certainty that the ambassador cares
about its family, and people. The Sentients aren’t all monsters.”

Maybe not
, I thought to myself,
but she’d
spent months with Woz as well.
What about
that
Sentient? There was
no doubt that, as a race, they were a dangerous threat to humanity. Our civilization
would be much safer if they were suddenly gone from the galaxy. Safer from them
anyway—our own reckless behavior was something else entirely.

But humanity’s concerns didn’t make genocide acceptable. Nothing did.
There were trillions of Sentients that had never done anything to deserve this
brutal death—their bodies tricked into self-destruction.

Enough,
I thought. All of this useless soul searching was rhetorical
anyway; we didn’t have the child, or any idea where it was—we weren’t even sure
if it was still alive.

Val broke the growing silence. “Forgive me, Ben, I’m not usually
this emotional, I know you are just trying to protect me and do your job.”

She leaned up against me again; her hands were still under the
jacket trying to get warm. I brushed a small piece of hair out of her eyes and
gently tucked it behind her ear. “When you attacked the ship to free us,” she
said, “that Sentient, the one you killed, struck me in the head, knocking me unconscious.
It must have thrown me under the sheet with the cadavers.”

“Is your head okay?” I asked. “Maybe I should take a look at it.
I’m no doctor, but I’m a decent field medic.”

“No, thank you. No. I’m okay—just a little tired.”

“You need to get some rest,” I told her. “The accommodations on
this ship aren’t the best, but we should be able to set up a makeshift bed for
you.”

“Thank you, Ben,” she said sincerely. I took my arm from around
her and she noticed my wedding ring.

“You’re married?” she said, surprised. “I didn’t imagine a Special
Inquisitor could be so progressive.”

“My wife died in the Diaspora War,” I replied. It
never
got
any easier to say the words out loud.

“That was over a hundred years ago—and you still wear the ring.
You must have loved her very much.”

“I did,” I said, extending my hand to help her stand. A thin arm
slid out from underneath the jacket, and her pale legs dropped to the floor. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. I gave her delicate arm a little tug,
pulling her up. As she stood, she drew her arms back into the jacket, shivering.

“It was a long time ago,” I said. “And you’re freezing. Let’s get
you settled into something warm so you can sleep and regain your strength.”

We found a small, empty room near the back of the ship, and I used
some foam salvaged from a container in the hangar—along my civilian clothing—to
make a simple bed. The finished product resembled an old style scarecrow, and I
hoped that it was as successful at scaring away insomnia as its traditional
counterpart had been at frightening birds. I needn’t have worried; Val lay down
without protest, falling asleep within minutes. I closed the door behind me, leaving
her in complete darkness and silence, then headed to the bridge for a status
report.

I could hear Sa’s yelling before I even made it through the door.

“What! That is ridiculous!” it exclaimed. The doctor was stomping
around the room, its fists clenched in anger.

“Even so,” Del replied, “it is in the report.”

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Del was tolerating the outburst with indifference, while Stinson spoke
to someone on his headset—ignoring them both.

“They think
I
created the virus,” Sa yelled, its volume
matching the level of emotion. “They are hunting for
me
.”

Del interrupted Sa to explain. “I have been monitoring what military
transmissions I can from the fleet; they are convinced that Doctor Sa’s
kidnapping was a ruse, and that Sa really disappeared because
it
was
responsible for the sickness.”

“I see.”

Someone was setting Sa up to take the fall.

“In that case, we will definitely hold off contacting anyone—just
keep heading for The Verge.”

“There is something else, Commander.” The tone of Del’s voice became
more serious—whatever it was, it was important. “They think Doctor Sa was
working with the humans to develop the virus.”

“What?” Suddenly, I felt the same outrage as Sa, “Why?”

“They say Doctor Sa is a known human sympathizer.”

“That’s not true!” Sa said forcefully. The doctor paused for a
moment, as if realizing something, then continued speaking in a more subdued
tone. “I did, however, express my opinion that humans were no threat to us…quite
publically I am afraid.”

“And someone has used that information to shift blame to you,” I
said. Sa nodded in resignation.

“Very clever,” the doctor said dejectedly.

“Commander,” Del broke in, “the messages I’ve intercepted also lead
me to believe that once the fleet has finished forming at Seveq—it will head directly
to The Verge.”

“To establish a blockade?” I asked optimistically, but as soon as
the words left my mouth, I knew that wasn’t their intention.

“To invade, Commander—they intend to wipe out humanity before we
ourselves die out.”

“But why?” Sa asked, astonished.

“Revenge,” I answered, leaning hard on the pedestal in front of
me; I grasped it tightly.
Revenge for an atrocity we didn’t commit…

“Revenge,” Del agreed, and went back to its monitors.

Stinson finished speaking to his contacts and pulled off the
headset to give me an update. Sector was aware of the danger and was marshaling
its own forces. Our long range sensor network had detected the hundreds of Sentient
ships on the move and activated the automatic warning system. Each independent Sector
realized the implications, and they were all sending ships to defend the
border. The uneasy alliance, held together by mutual fear, was working. For now
at least.

But would it do any good?

Even with our surveillance equipment constantly monitoring
Sentient territory, we had no empirical data about their ship strength or overall
numbers. What we did know was enough to cause nightmares; they could hurt us
plenty. They had enough ships and advanced technology to kick us all the way
back to Earth if they wanted to—even wipe us out of the galaxy if that really
was
their intent.

The Sentients had proven themselves very capable of destroying our
ships—Rand Sector could attest to that. They were tenacious fighters, even when
they didn’t have a reason to kill humans. Now that they did, well…

I joined Stinson sitting on the floor, our backs to the wall—literally
and figuratively. “I wonder about our chances,” I confessed.

“There is always a chance,” Stinson said. “We’ve made some decent
technological breakthroughs since the Rand debacle.”