Leviathans of Jupiter (23 page)

Yeager made a sour face. “First we've got to get
Faraday
back and check out how she performed.”

“Your vehicle is still in the ocean?” Dorn asked.

“Another two days,” Yeager answered.

The waiter came back with Yeager's dinner tray. Dorn did not order anything.

“I'm too tired to eat,” he said.

“You ought to keep up your strength,” Deirdre said.

He made a noise that might have been a grunt. “The scientists check my physical condition at the start of each day. If they feel I lack sufficient nutrition they pump nutrients into me through an IV tube.”

“Yuck!” said Corvus.

Yeager picked up his fork, hesitated, then looked at each one of them in turn.

“We make quite a quartet,” the engineer said sardonically. “Andy can't get his dolphins to talk to him. Dorn's being used as a guinea pig. I'm hanging around like an expectant father in a maternity ward.” He turned to Deirdre. “You're the only one without a problem, Dee.”

“I have my problem,” she said quietly.

“Anything I can do to help you?” Yeager asked, his usual smirk gone; his expression was almost fatherly.

“Or me?” Corvus said.

“Or me?” added Dorn.

Deirdre smiled at the three of them. “You're all very kind. But my problem is medical. Rabies.”

“Aren't the medics helping you?” Corvus asked.

With a slight shake of her head, Deirdre replied, “The immunization shots aren't working the way they should. The virus is still infecting my nervous system.”

“You're not showing any obvious symptoms,” said Dorn.

“Not yet,” Deirdre replied.

“Why aren't the shots working?” Corvus wondered.

Deirdre started to answer, hesitated, then decided to plunge in. If I can't trust my three friends I'm really all alone, she said to herself.

Aloud, she told them, “The virus might be genetically engineered. I think it is.”

COUNTERMOVE

“Genetically engineered?”

“By whom?”

“What do you mean?”

Deirdre raised both her hands and tried to calm them down, surprised at how angry and distressed all three of them seemed.

“Mrs. Westfall told me—”

“Katherine Westfall?” Corvus gaped at her. “What's she got to do with it?”

“She's the one who raised the possibility,” Deirdre said.

“I don't get it,” said Yeager. “Why would a member of the IAA's governing council be involved in something like this?”

Deirdre closed her eyes briefly, remembering Katherine Westfall's exact words.

“She told me, quote, ‘Back on Earth there was some rumor about a biology laboratory that developed a genetically engineered form of rabies.' ”

“She said that?” Yeager asked.

“Word for word.”

“That doesn't mean—”

Deirdre interrupted, “Then she told me that she wants me to keep her informed on what Dr. Archer is doing. She particularly wants to know what's going on with his plan to send a crewed mission into the ocean, Max.”

“Well, she would, wouldn't she?”

“She wants me to spy on Dr. Archer for her.”

Yeager's face showed clear disbelief. Andy looked doubtful, too. It was hard to read Dorn's impassive features.

Deirdre went on, “She told me, quote, ‘I want you to keep me informed on what's going on here. Fully informed. Keep me informed and I'll do everything I can to help cure your infection. Do we understand one another?' ”

The three men glanced at each other uneasily.

“That's exactly what she said to me,” Deirdre assured them. “And you should have seen the expression on her face! Like a snake!”

“This is very serious,” said Dorn.

“Why would she do it?” Yeager wondered aloud.

“What should I do about it?” Deirdre asked.

“Not ‘I,' ” said Dorn. “Us. What should
we
do about it?”

“We've got to do something,” Yeager said.

“Yes, but what?” asked Dorn.

“Use your head,” Corvus said, looking impatient. “Go to the top. Tell Archer about it. He's the only one who can help us.”

*   *   *

First thing the next morning, the four of them trooped over to Grant Archer's office. The station director looked surprised as they came in, unannounced, and asked for his attention.

Archer stroked his beard absently as he listened to Deirdre's recital. When at last she finished, he leaned back in his recliner and was silent for several moments. Deirdre, Corvus, Yeager, and Dorn sat arrayed around him, waiting for the station director to say something.

At last Archer sat up straighter and murmured, “It never ends.”

Corvus blinked at him. “What never ends?”

Leaning his hands on his thighs, Archer said softly, “When I first came here, more than twenty years ago, I was asked to spy on the station director.”

“What?”

His light brown eyes focused on the past, Archer told them, “When I came to station
Gold,
I was a grad student working toward my doctorate in astrophysics. The New Morality sent me here as part of my public service obligation.”

“The New Morality?” Deirdre asked.

“They're a religious outfit back in North America,” Yeager explained. “Fundamentalists.”

“They were a very powerful political force back then,” said Archer. “They thought that the studies of extraterrestrial life that were being conducted here on
Gold
conflicted with their views of the Bible. They sent me here to find out just what the scientists were doing and report back to them.”

“They thought that studying ET life contradicts the Bible?” Corvus said. “That's nutty.”

“Not to them,” Archer replied. “They were very powerful in those days. They practically ran the government.”

Dorn said, “When a religious group gains political power, both the religion and the political system suffer.”

Archer shook his head, as if trying to clear his mind. “That was more than twenty years ago. Things have changed. For the better, I think.”

Yeager said, “There're still lots of people back Earthside who believe all that fundamentalist bullshit.”

“But Mrs. Westfall isn't one of them,” Deirdre pointed out.

Archer agreed. “No, I don't believe she is.”

“Then why does she want Dee to spy on you?” Corvus asked.

Archer almost smiled. “Beats me. She must have her reasons. I've shown her everything we're doing here. I've been quite open with her.”

Dorn said, “Conspiracy theory.”

“What?”

“People who believe in conspiracy theories are never satisfied with the information you give them—unless that information confirms their beliefs.”

“Like the UFO believers,” Yeager said.

“Well, the solar system really has been visited by intelligent extraterrestrials,” Corvus said. “We know that.”

“Millions of years ago, most likely,” Yeager countered.

“Maybe not,” said Deirdre, turning to Dorn.

The cyborg nodded to her, then told the others, “There is an artifact that seems quite beyond human capabilities, hidden out in the Asteroid Belt. I've seen it. It changed my life.”

“But we've got no idea how long it's been there,” Yeager insisted.

“The point that I originally intended to make,” Dorn said, looking squarely at Archer, “is that no matter how much information you give to someone who believes in conspiracy theories, that person will remain convinced that you are hiding vital facts from him.”

“Or her,” Deirdre added.

Archer's face showed he understood Dorn's point. “So you think that Mrs. Westfall believes I'm hiding something from her.”

“And she's enlisted Deirdre to pry that information out of you,” Dorn said.

“But I'm not hiding anything!”

“That means that Deirdre can't tell her anything more than she's already learned directly from you.”

Yeager said, “Which means she'll think Deirdre's holding out on her.”

Corvus picked up, “Which means she won't let the medics cure the gengineered virus.”

They all turned toward Deirdre.

“I could die of rabies,” she said, in a choked whisper.

“No!” Corvus snapped. “Never!”

“We'll get her to produce the cure,” Dorn said, folding his prosthetic hand into a tight fist.

“Maybe there isn't a cure,” Yeager said. “Just because some lab manufactured an engineered virus doesn't mean they've also made a way to kill it.”

Deirdre felt her insides simmer with sudden fear.

Archer saw the expression on her face and said gently, “Don't worry. I'll send all your medical files and a sample of your blood to the nanotech lab at Selene University. They'll design a nanomachine specifically to track down that virus and tear it apart.”

“That…” Deirdre's breath caught in her throat. “That would be very expensive, wouldn't it?”

Archer smiled at her. “We've already paid for your passage here. And your scholarship. This would simply be protecting our investment in you.”

“And do you think that would work? The nanobugs could wipe out the virus?”

“Certainly. I'll send the data today. Your current therapy is maintaining you; the virus isn't spreading through your nervous system. Selene will produce the nanomachines to cure you.”

“And what do we do in the meantime?” Corvus asked. “Westfall will expect information from Dee.”

“We'll give you information to feed her,” Archer said. “For example,
Faraday
's first message capsule is due to pop out of the ocean later today. Isn't that right, Dr. Yeager?”

“Max,” Yeager corrected automatically. Then he added, “You're right. Data capsule's due in”—he glanced at his wristwatch—“two and a half hours.”

“Make a copy of the capsule's upload and give it to Deirdre,” Archer directed. “That should keep Mrs. Westfall happy for a while.”

Corvus grinned. Dorn nodded thoughtfully.

But Yeager said, “If the capsule comes up. If everything's going right down there.”

FARADAY

Sensor data: No leviathans observed.

Central computer: Extend search to maximum sensor range.

Sensor data: No leviathans observed.

Program time line: Data capsule to be launched in 60.0000 seconds.

Central computer: Query logic tree. Launch data capsule despite lack of data?

Logic tree: Command protocol dictates data capsule launch according to preprogrammed schedule, regardless of contents of data storage.

Human analog subprogram: Aphorism, “No news is good news.” Aphorism, “It is always darkest before the dawn.”

Central computer: Launch data capsule on schedule.

Mission objectives program: Data capsule launched.

Sensor report: Pressure waves indicate presence of large organisms at extreme range of sensitivity.

Time line: 17.3318 seconds elapsed since launch of data capsule.

Sensor report: Detected organisms moving at depth deeper than mission profile cruise depth.

Central computer: Mission profile cruise depth can be exceeded if necessary.

Sensor report: Detected organisms' depth estimated at 900 kilometers below ocean surface.

Central computer: Nine hundred kilometers is within nominal performance limits. Change course to dive to depth of detected organisms.

Navigation program: Course correction implemented. Diving.

Sensor report: Detected organisms not leviathans. Signature indicates organisms to be predators.

Memory bank: Sharklike predators attack and feed on leviathans. Voracious. Extremely dangerous. Have attacked research vessels from time to time.

Central computer: Query, How many predators have been detected?

Sensor report: Eighty-two.

Memory bank: No previous observation of more than fifteen predators at one sighting. Eighty-two predators an unprecedented number.

Central computer: Query decision tree: Launch additional data capsule?

Decision tree: Not enough data to determine if this is new behavior of predators or normal behavior not heretofore observed.

Logic program: Large assemblage of predators an indication that large assemblage of prey must be near enough to be attacked. Since predators prey on leviathans, conclusion is that leviathans must be within sensory range of predators.

Mission objectives priority: 1. Self-preservation. 2. Observation of leviathans. 3. Report accumulated data on schedule. 4. Report new phenomena immediately. 5. Observation of predators.

Central computer: Follow predator swarm, assuming that they will lead to leviathans.

Mission protocol program: WARNING. Predator swarm near mission profile depth limit. Leviathans may be below mission profile depth limit.

Central computer: Follow predator swarm to depth limit of mission profile.

*   *   *

“No leviathans?” Andy Corvus asked, wide-eyed with disbelief. “Not even one?”

Max Yeager shook his head. “Not even one.”

Corvus had dropped in at the control center after another disappointing swim with the dolphins. Only one of the consoles was manned; even the cute little Russian chief controller had taken off. Yeager sat at one of the consoles, looking weary and rumpled, his long hair tangled, his chin dark with several days' growth of stubble.

“Where are they?” Corvus asked.

Irritated, Yeager jabbed a finger at the console's central screen. “You see any? They're not there! Nowhere in sight!”

Corvus stared at the screen as if he could make the leviathans appear by sheer willpower.

“I've checked all the data sixteen times from Sunday,” Yeager grumbled. “
Faraday
entered the ocean smack in the middle of their usual feeding grounds. But they aren't there.” With a shake of his shaggy head he added, “They must be down lower, maybe too deep for her to reach them.”