Flinx in Flux (13 page)

“I was in a position to offer assistance,” he explained, “so I did.”

“Yeah, nice of you.” Jase’s gaze switched back to Clarity.

Flinx saw that the other man was hopelessly in love with Clarity Held. He wondered if Jase had any idea how obvious he was being. From his new height and greater maturity, Flinx was able to regard the other man with tolerance.

“Everything went crazy when you up and vanished.” Jase chose to ignore Flinx, having cataloged and filed him like one of the inhabitants of the specimen zoo.

“I figured it would. Don’t worry. I’ll be back on station by tomorrow.” She reached out, and for a moment Flinx thought she was going to take the other scientist’s hand. But she was only gesturing at the door.

“Let’s go. It’s time we check in with Vandervort. You’ll like her. Everyone likes her.”

“Then I’m sure I will, too.”

They walked instead of using the ARV system. As they did so, they passed people clad in attire that screamed Security. Most of them wore sidearms.

“Looks like someone’s taken a few precautions in the wake of your disappearance.”

“Amee isn’t dumb. Any outfit would get suspicious if one of their top people suddenly vanished without leaving behind a message of resignation or notice of intent to terminate. I didn’t go as quietly as the people who grabbed me thought I would. I’ll bet there are missing persons bulletins out across half the Commonwealth by now.”

They were walking down a corridor open to the ceiling. The floor was polished limestone and travertine. Plastic sheeting hung in several places, and he could hear the dripping of water against the impermeable Mylar.

She noticed the direction of his glance. “I think I mentioned that the majority of the cavern system explored so far is alive.”

“What do you mean, alive?”

“A cavern with water running through it is still creating and adding to formations. It’s a live cave. One that’s dried up is considered dead.”

“I see. I should’ve known that, but most of my studies have been directed outward on the worlds I’ve visited.”

She eyed him curiously. “How many worlds have you been to? I’ve only been on three. My home world of Thalia Major, Thalia Minor of course, and now Longtunnel. I guess I should call it four, counting Alaspin.”

“I’ve been to more than four.” He did not want to go into specifics. She probably would not believe him, anyway. Instead, he changed the subject, a skill he had mastered years ago. “Clearly everyone here’s on alert. Yet you look more relaxed than I’ve ever seen you.”

“They don’t know it’s over. I was anxious right up until we landed. But everything’s okay now, especially since Security’s been called out. You’ve seen what landing on Longtunnel can be like. There’s only the one port and landing strip. There are no facilities anywhere else. All they have to do is keep the port under guard and nobody can get in or out without having to run Security first. You ought to relax, yourself.”

I’d like to do that, he said to himself, but I think I forgot how about five years ago.

They turned another corner and stopped before a door set in a yellow spray-wall. Clarity didn’t buzz or identify herself. She simply walked in. No scanner bade them pause; no autosec announced their arrival.

Now that he was here, he understood why. There was no need for internal security on Longtunnel. All you had to do to prevent unauthorized entry was monitor port facilities and watch the front door because there were no back ones to sneak in through. It also explained how Clarity’s abductors had been able to slip her out. Once you were inside, you had only a single checkpoint to clear to get out again. There must be individual company security, but that was a different matter, especially if you were trying to break out and not in.

The office they entered was spacious, and why not, when it was simply a matter of subdividing another cavern to your liking? What made it interesting was the presence of dozens of ceiling growths. In this chamber they had been left undisturbed. Glistening stalactites, helectites, soda straws, and gypsum twists sparkled above the artificial lighting. Limestone and water had decorated the office far more beautifully than any professional could have.

There was no need for climate control. The temperature was the same in the office as it had been in the hall outside: cool and slightly damp. Off to the left, near the back of the chamber, cave water tumbled musically from a crack in the rock wall and was drawn away by a floor drain.

Storage files, a couch, office furniture, and cojoined desks stood out starkly against the gemlike natural formations. The woman who rose from behind one desk was much shorter than Clarity. Her long red hair had been pulled back and bound in a neat bun—knife-edged gold crystals pierced the bun in three places. Her smile of greeting was warm and inviting, her voice was deep and throaty, and a narcostick dangled precariously from one corner of her mouth. It in no way impeded her speech. Her stride and handshake were equally vigorous.

Flinx figured her to be in her midfifties and was genuinely surprised when he learned later that she was seventy. Late middle age. Instead of shaking hands with Clarity, she embraced the younger woman, patting her affectionately on the back.

“Maxim and the gang down in Development have been spinning their wheels ever since you vanished.”

That made Clarity frown. “They went into my cubicle?”

“My dear, everyone went into your cubicle. What did you expect? There was a lot of moaning and wringing of hands when Security ventured their opinion that your departure had not been voluntary. I suppose I am due some of the responsibility. I should have insisted on tighter security right from the beginning. But who imagined something like that happening? An abduction, from Longtunnel? I am correct, am I not, in assuming it was something like that?”

“That’s it.”

Vandervort nodded knowingly. “The signs were clear to the forensics people. Not to the rest of us, but to them the message was clear enough. Well, it won’t happen again, I can promise you that.”

“We saw the new Security on our way down.”

“Good.” She turned to examine Flinx, not neglecting the minidrag relaxing on his shoulder. “Interesting pet you have, young man. I notice that Clarity has acquired one for herself.”

“Pip isn’t a pet. Our relationship is mutually beneficial.”

“As you will. That’s part of what our work here is about, you know. Or are you aware of that already?” She glanced back at Clarity. “How much have you told him about us?”

“Everything that isn’t classified. He saved my life. Maybe yours as well. I couldn’t shut him out.”

“I can’t wait for the details,” the woman replied sardonically. “By the way,” she said as she extended a hand to Flinx, “I’m Alynasmolia Vandervort. Everyone calls me Amee. Or Momma. I’m Coldstripe’s supervisor-in-charge here.”

He returned the firm grip. “I assumed something of the kind.”

“It appears we all owe you a debt of gratitude for returning our Clarity to us. You’re not claustrophobic by any chance, are you? We have pills, for those who display the symptoms.”

“I’m fine,” he told her. “If anything, it’s more spacious than I would have imagined.”

Vandervort looked pleased, resumed her seat behind the desk, and directed her visitors to chairs. “Who was it?” she asked Clarity.

Flinx feigned indifference while listening closely to Clarity’s story. The supervisor sat motionless and intent. She did not touch the narcostick, but by the time Clarity had finished, it had somehow migrated from one corner of her mouth to the other. She leaned back in her chair and let out a soft grunt.

“Could be any of several dozen radical groups. There are plenty of ’em out there, but usually they confine themselves to making speeches nobody listens to, or taking up free space between entertainment programming on the newsfax.” She had a peculiar, jerky manner of speech that was matched by the ceaseless movement of her eyes from one person to the next.

“Our debt to you, young man, is real. You know that Clarity here is irreplaceable.”

“I know. She told me—several times.”

Vandervort laughed at that, a hard but in no way masculine chuckle. “Oh, she’s not shy, our Clarity. With all she’s accomplished already, she has no need for false modesty. Whoever carried out this execrable act did their research well. Clarity’s the one member of our scientific staff we can’t afford to lose. Now that you’re back among us,” she added grimly, “we won’t lose track of you again.”

“I’m not worried. It looks like you’ve shut everything down tight, Amee.”

“That we have.” She hesitated. “Would you feel more comfortable with a full-time bodyguard?”

“I already have one.” Clarity reached up to pet Scrap, secure in his place beneath her sidetail.

Vandervort issued another of her soft grunts and turned to Flinx. “Clarity’s told you what we’re doing here?”

“You’re working with malleable local lifeforms to produce commercially viable offshoots.”

She nodded. “Genetically, Longtunnel is a mine whose shafts have already been dug for us. We haven’t been set up here very long. Barely begun to classify, much less extensively select, breed, and gengineer. Even so we’ve managed to come up with several successful products.”

“Clarity mentioned your Verdidion Weave.”

“That’s been our big success thus far, but not the only one.” She reached behind her and opened a drawer in a metal cabinet. Sweet smells filled the room as she withdrew something and placed it on the desk in front of her.

The shallow pan of blue metallic glass was filled with cubes of jelly: red, yellow, and purple. They did not shimmer when she slid the pan across the desk top.

“Have a bite.” Flinx studied the jelly uncertainly. “Oh, go on, dear.” Vandervort selected a purple cube, popped it in her mouth, and chewed enthusiastically.

“Go on, Flinx.” Clarity helped herself to a pink-hued square. “They’re wonderful.”

Hardly able to sit and cower in terror while the two women munched away, Flinx chose a bright green cube and cautiously put it in his mouth. Anticipating a lime or gooseberry taste, he was startled by the explosion of flavors that shocked his taste buds. The cube’s density was another surprise. It was tougher than gelatin, closer to rubber in consistency. Yet once he broke it down, it dissolved readily in his mouth. The multiple flavors lingered powerfully long after he had swallowed the last bite.

He helped himself to another green cube, then a purple one. The flavor burst was as different and exciting the third time as it had been with the first two. It occurred to him as he was chewing the fourth cube that he might be consuming some extremely valuable products, though Vandervort hadn’t withdrawn the tray. On the contrary, she appeared to delight in his enjoyment.

“Remarkable stuff, isn’t it, young man? When people have exhausted their purchasing power on electronic gadgets and labor-saving devices and art, there isn’t much left to dally over except food. A new taste sensation is worth more than the most powerful new personal computing device. Whether intended for mind or stomach, entertainment is always more valuable than anything the gengineers can invent.”

“What is it?” a sated Flinx asked, licking his fingers.

“Almost as nutritious as it is tasty, for one thing.” Clarity was wearing her prideful smile again. “It tastes like it’s packed with sugars, but it’s a sham. In reality it’s almost solid protein.”

Vandervort took obvious delight in identifying it for him. “It’s a pseudoplasmodium slug.”

Flinx stopped licking his fingers. Vandervort’s smile grew wider. “A slime mold, young man.”

Flavors began to fade rapidly. “I don’t follow you.”

“A pseudoplasmodium is an amoebeic aggregate. Strange lifeform, slime molds. When grouped together they behave as a single entity, but if you take them apart, shake them around in water or something, they break down into individual clusters quite capable of sustaining life.” She gestured at the half-empty tray. “We don’t know what we’re going to call it yet. I don’t deal with advertising and publicity.”

“I’m sure they’ll call it something like Flavor Cubes,” Clarity said.

“Yes, dear. ‘Flavor Cubes from the taste mines of Longtunnel.’ Or some such drivel to appeal to the popular taste.” Vandervort sounded almost bitter. “They certainly will not market it as slime mold.”

“I take it the stuff is reasonable to produce,” Flinx murmured.

“More than reasonable. It’s a saprobe. It lives by decaying other organic matter. Some are parasites. These—” She indicated the tray again. “—are easily managed. The organism thrives on garbage and waste. How’s that for a practical food resource? A new food that tastes good, is visually appealing, and is good for you. And all it needs for growth is a little dampness and garbage.”

“It grows naturally here?” Flinx asked.

“No, dear, but something very like it does. We intensified the colors, the rate of growth, and greatly manipulated the natural flavors. We’ll be ready to commence production on a limited basis in a couple of months. Not right here: This will always be a research facility. A pair of large virgin caverns are being developed off to the west. It’ll be sold as a luxury item at first, like the Verdidion Weave. We’ll expand gradually into the mass market.”

What’s in a name? he mused as he gazed at the tray of slime mold. The Commonwealth was rife with foodstuffs no one would touch if he or she had an inkling of their origins. That was what advertising existed for: to make the impractical and unappetizing irresistible. If Vandervort had allowed it, he would gladly have emptied the entire tray.

“Clarity mentioned someone named Maxim. Is he a gengineer, too?”

“No. Max is our head mycologist. Not everything we’re working with down here is fungi, though. Longtunnel’s subterranean world is alive, with astonishing lifeforms. You wouldn’t think to find so much variety thriving in darkness. Plenty of mammals or close relations.”

“I’ve seen the floats and the photomorphs.”

Vandervort nodded approvingly. “There are a few creatures the taxonomists haven’t figured out how to classify. Distant relations of deep-sea dwellers on Earth and Cachalot. Their ancestors lived next to sulfurous vents. The sulfides were metabolized by bacteria that lived in the creature’s gills, or by special organs; microbes broke down the sulfide compounds and used the resultant energy to make carboyhdrates, proteins, and liquids.