Saturn (23 page)

TO: Dr. Professor E. Urbain, Habitat
Goddard.

FROM: H. H. Haddix Chair, IAA Executive Board.

SUBJECT: Titan Contamination Risk.

In response to your request, the Executive Board initiated a thorough assessment of policy in regard to human exploration of the Saturnian moon, Titan. After review by the astrobiology and planetary protection committees of the International Astronautical Authority, it has been unanimously decided that any human excursion upon the surface of Titan is strictly forbidden. Protection of the indigenous life-forms of Titan takes precedence over all other goals, including scientific investigation. Robotic exploration of Titan's surface is permitted, providing existing planetary protection decontamination procedures are strictly adhered to.

H. Harvey Haddix.

Chair, IAA Executive Board.

Rev. Calypso J. C. Abernathy.

Imprimatur.

Ruth Morgenthau hated these nature walks that Eberly insisted upon. He's absolutely paranoid, she thought as she trudged reluctantly along the path that led through the park from Village A toward the orchards. He worries that someone might be bugging his apartment the way we're bugging everyone else's.

It's no longer Village A, she reminded herself. It's Athens now. And the orchard is officially the St. Francis of Assisi Preserve. Morgenthau almost giggled aloud. What a name! What arguments they had had, real shouting battles between herself, Vyborg, and Kananga. Even the normally moderate and reserved Jaansen had raised his voice when it came to naming the habitat's various laboratory buildings.

The months-long campaign to produce actual names for the habitat's villages, buildings, and natural features had been little more than a farce. Every vote had a scatter factor larger almost than the number of votes.
Everyone
in the habitat had an opinion about what the names should be, and hardly two votes agreed with each other. It was a grand mess, but Eberly came through with a magnificent solution.

"Since there is no unanimity among the voters," he told his inner cadre of confidants, "we will have to make the decisions ourselves."

That set the four of them wrangling, with Kananga insisting that African names be just as numerous as European or Asian, Vyborg holding out for names that had powerful psychological connotations among the populace, and Jaansen firmly
—
sometimes stubbornly
—
proffering his own list of famous scientists' names. Eberly had stayed above the fray, listening to their squabbles with cold disdain. Morgenthau found the whole affair disgusting; she hadn't cared what names were chosen, as long as they were not blatantly secular. She had flatly refused to allow the biology facility to be named after Charles Darwin, of course.

In the end, Eberly resolved most of their disputes. When they could not agree, he made the decision. When they wrangled too long, he stepped in and told them to stop acting like children. Morgenthau watched over him carefully, though, and he knew it.

Village A got a European name: Athens. Village B went to the Asians: Bangkok. Village C became Cairo; D became Delhi and E was named Entebbe. The Americans
—
North and South
—
complained bitterly, but Eberly stared them down by solemnly proclaiming those were the names that the habitat's residents had voted for. After all, he pointed out, Americans actually were a minority in the habitat's population.

Since the votes were secret ballots, Eberly refused to allow anyone to recount them. In a great show of seeming impartiality, he erased all the votes
—
"So that no one can tamper with them, or use them to cause unrest in the future," he announced.

There were some grumbles, but the people by and large accepted the names that the voters allegedly chose. Eberly saw to it that there were plenty of American and Latino names sprinkled among the buildings and natural features, to keep everyone reasonably satisfied.

It was a strong, masterful performance, Morgenthau felt. Yet a tendril of worry troubled her. Perhaps Eberly was too strong, too determined to have his own way, too hungry for power. We are agents of God, she reminded herself. We seek power not for ourselves, but for the salvation of these ten thousand lost souls. She wondered if Eberly felt the same way. In fact, she was almost certain that he did not. Yet authorities higher than her own had chosen Eberly to lead this mission; her job was to support him
—
and keep him from straying too far from the path the New Morality and Holy Disciples had chosen for him.

So Morgenthau walked beside him along the Washington Carver Pathway, which led from Athens to the St. Francis Orchard and beyond, over the little rolling knolls that bore the incongruous name of the Andes Hills toward the farmlands of the Ohio region. She desperately hoped that Eberly would not decide to walk all the way to California, the open region up by the endcap. Her feet hurt enough already.

"You're very quiet this afternoon," Eberly said as they walked along the meandering brick path. Those were the first words he himself had spoken in many minutes.

Morgenthau could feel sweat beading on her brow. "I'm just happy that the names have been settled on," she said. "You did a masterful job, a brilliant job."

He allowed a wintry smile to curve his lips. "Just as long as the actual votes have been totally erased."

"Totally," she swore.

"And no one outside our inner circle knows about how the names were chosen."

"No one."

"Not even Holly? She's very bright, you know."

Morgenthau agreed with an nod. "She asked why the votes should be erased. Once I told her that it was your decision, though, she put up no resistance."

Eberly nodded. "I'll probably have to take her to bed, sooner or later. That will ensure her loyalty."

Morgenthau gaped at him, shocked. "She's quite loyal enough now. There's no need
—
"

He cut her short. "The next steps we take will be more and more distasteful to her. I'll have to keep her bound to me personally. Otherwise she might balk, or even rebel against us."

"But bedding her
—
that's sinful!"

"It's in a good cause. We must all be prepared to make sacrifices."

She caught his sarcastic tone. "Well, at least she's rather attractive."

"A bit dark for my liking," Eberly said, almost as casually as if he were discussing his preferences in clothing or food. "I favor blondes, with fuller figures."

Morgenthau felt her cheeks reddening. And yet... Is he toying with me? she wondered. Testing me? She had no desire to pursue this line of discussion. She had no fantasies about her own attractions, or her own preferences.

"You didn't ask me out on this walk to discuss your plans for romance, did you?"

"No," he answered, quite seriously. "Hardly that."

"Then what?"

Without changing his leisurely pace, Eberly looked up at the light poles and the miniature cameras atop them, then out to the green and flowering parkland spread about them.

"Offices can be bugged too easily. There are always prying eyes and ears to worry about."

She understood. "Out here, it simply looks as if we're taking in some exercise together."

"Precisely." He nodded.

Morgenthau considered that the fact the two of them were walking together might start some tongues wagging, although hardly anyone would suspect her of having a romantic interest in Eberly, or of being of any physical attraction to him. Or any man, for that matter. They all see me as a short, dumpy, overweight loser, Morgenthau knew. I'm no threat to any of them. How little they know!

"Sooner or later we're going to have to confront Wilmot," Eberly said, his eyes still scanning for eavesdroppers. "Vyborg is constantly nagging me about removing Berkowitz and installing himself as the chief of communications. I've decided that the way to get to Berkowitz is through Wilmot."

"Through Wilmot?"

"Berkowitz is an innocuous former network executive. He doesn't appear to have any obvious vices. He runs the Communications Department so loosely that Vyborg is actually in charge of virtually the entire operation."

"But Sammi wants the title as well as the responsibility," Morgenthau said. "I know him. He wants the respect and the power."

"Yes. And he's impatient. If what he did to that old man Romero is ever discovered..."

"It won't reflect on you," she assured him. "It can't."

"Perhaps. But still, Berkowitz should be removed."

"And to do that, you want to go through Wilmot?" Morgenthau asked.

"That's not the only reason, of course," Eberly went on. "Wilmot believes he is in charge of the habitat. The day will come when I'll have to disabuse him of that notion."

"We can't have a godless secularist ruling these people!" Morgenthau said fervently.

"I'll need some ammunition, something to hold over Wilmot."

"A carrot or a stick?" Morgenthau asked.

"Either. Both, if possible."

"We'll need someone to review all his personal files and phone conversations."

Eberly nodded. "This must be kept totally secret. I don't want even Vyborg to know that we're going through Wilmot's files."

"Then who should do the work?"

"You," said Eberly, so clearly and precisely that there was no room to argue. Morgenthau's heart sank; she saw long dreary nights of snooping into the professor's phone conversations and entertainment vids.

She lapsed into silence, thinking hard as they walked slowly along the path.

"Well?" Eberly prodded.

"It might be very boring. He's nothing more than an elderly academic. I doubt that there's much there to use."

Eberly did not hesitate a microsecond. "Then we'll have to manufacture something. I prefer to find a weakness that he actually has, though. Drumming up false accusations can be tricky."

"Let me talk to Vyborg about it."

"No," Eberly snapped. "Keep this between the two of us. No one else. Not yet, at least."

"Yes," she agreed reluctantly. "I understand."

All the time during the long walk back to their offices in Athens, Morgenthau thought about Eberly's commitment to their cause. He's seeking nothing more than his own personal aggrandizement, she thought. But he has the charisma to be the leader of these ten thousand people. I'll have to put up with him. Wilmot, she told herself, is an out-and-out secularist: an atheist or an agnostic, at best. Find something that will hang him. I've got to find something that will hang him.

"I haven't slept with him, if that's what's worrying you," said Kris Cardenas.

Holly looked into her cornflower-blue eyes and decided that Kris was telling the truth. She was spending an awful lot of time with Manny Gaeta, but it was strictly business, she insisted. On the other hand, Manny hadn't asked Holly out or dropped into her office or even phoned her since the night he had walked Kris home.

And Malcolm was as cool and distant as ever. All business, nothing but business. Some love life, Holly thought. It's all in tatters.

"I'm telling you the truth, Holly," Cardenas insisted, misinterpreting Holly's silence.

"I know, Kris," she said, feeling more confused than unhappy. "Point of fact, I wouldn't blame you if you did. He's a dynamo."

The two women were having a late lunch in the nearly empty cafeteria, well after almost everyone had cleared out of the place.

Cardenas leaned closer to Holly and confided, "He hasn't come on to me at all. If you weren't interested in him, I'd be kind of disappointed. I mean, I'm a lot older than he is in calendar years but I'm not repulsive, am I?"

Holly giggled. "Kris, if you're interested, go right ahead. I've got no claims on him."

"Yes you do."

"No, not really. In fact, I think I'm better off with him off my scanner screen."

Cardenas raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Really," Holly said, wondering inwardly if she were doing the right thing, "his only interest in me was purely physical."

"A lot of relationships have started that way."

"Well this one's over. It isn't really a relationship, anyway. It never was." Holly was surprised that it didn't hurt to admit it. Not much, anyway.

Cardenas shrugged. "It's a moot point. He's nothing but business with me."

"Prob'ly in awe of you."

Cardenas laughed. "I'll bet."

"Sure."

"Never mind," she said, waving one hand as if brushing away an annoying insect. "You said you've got a possible lab assistant for me?"

"Maybe," Holly said. "I haven't raised the idea with him, yet. But he's got some of the qualifications you're looking for. An engineering degree-"

"What kind of engineering?"

"Electromechanical."

"How recent?"

Holly pulled her handheld out of her tunic pocket. Raoul Tavalera's three-dimensional image appeared in the air above their table, together with the facts and figures of his dossier.

Cardenas scanned through the data. "Whose department is he working in?"

"Maintenance," Holly replied. "But he's just putting in time there; he doesn't officially belong to any department. He's the astronaut that Manny fished out."

"Oh." She went through the dossier again, more slowly this time. "Then he'll only be with us until Manny packs up and leaves."

"I guess. But he's available now and you said you needed help right away."

"Beggars can't be choosy," Cardenas agreed. "I'll have to talk to him. Has he agreed to work with me?"

"He doesn't know anything about it yet. I can set up a meeting for you, though."

"Good enough."

"In my office, kay?"

Cardenas thought a moment. "That's probably better than inviting him to my lab. He might be scared of having nanobugs infect him."

Tavalera looked suspicious as he sat down in front of Holly's desk. He arrived promptly on time, though; that was a good sign, she thought.

She had asked him to come to her office fifteen minutes before Cardenas.

"What's this all about?" he asked, almost sullenly.

"Job op," said Holly brightly.

"I've got a job, with the maintenance crew."

"Like it?"

He scowled. "Are you kiddin'?"

Holly made a smile for him. "I'd be worried if you said you did."

"So what've you got for me?"

"It's in a science lab. You'll be able to use your engineering education, f'sure."

"I thought all the science slots were filled. That's what you told me when I first came aboard here."

"They are. This is with Dr. Cardenas, in her nanotech lab."

His eyes widened momentarily. Holly could sense the wheels churning inside his skull.

"Nanotech," he muttered.

Holly nodded. "Some people are clanked up about nanotechnology, I know."

"Yeah."

"Are you?"

Tavalera hesitated a moment, then replied, "Yeah, kinda. Guess I am."

"You'd be foolish not to be," Holly agreed. "But working with Dr. Cardenas, you'll be working with the best there is. It'll look cosmically good on your resume, y'know."

"The hell it will. I wouldn't want anybody back on Earth to know I'd been within a zillion light-years of any nanobugs."

"Well," Holly said, "you don't have to take the job if you don't want to. We're not going to force you. You can always stay with Maintenance."

"Thanks a bunch," he groused.

He was still wary about the idea when Cardenas arrived. She seemed uncertain about him, as well.

"Mr. Tavalera, I can't work with somebody who's frightened to be around nanomachines."

"I'm not scared of 'em. I'm just scared they won't let me go back home if anybody finds out I've been workin' with you."

"You can demand a complete physical," Cardenas said. "Then they'll see you're not harboring any nanobugs in your body."

"Yeah," he reluctantly admitted. "Maybe."

Holly suggested, "We can keep your employment with Dr. Cardenas completely off the record. As far as the authorities Earthside will know, you worked in Maintenance all the time you were aboard this habitat."

"You can do that?" Even Cardenas looked incredulous.

"I can do it for special cases," Holly said, thinking about how she would have to keep Morgenthau from poking her fat face into Tavalera's official dossier.

"You'd do it for me?" Tavalera asked.

"Sure I would," said Holly.

He looked unconvinced, but he abruptly turned to Cardenas and said, "Well, I guess if you screw up and let killer bugs loose, everybody in this tin can is gonna get wiped out anyway. I might as well work with you. Beats overhauling farm tractors."

Cardenas glanced at Holly, then started laughing. "You certainly are enthusiastic, Mr. Tavalera!"

His long, horsy face broke into an awkward grin. "That's me, all right: Mr. Enthusiasm."

"Seriously," Holly said to him, "do you want to work with Dr. Cardenas or not?"

"I'll do it. Why not? What have I got to lose?"

Turning to Cardenas, Holly asked, "Are you satisfied with him?"

Still smiling at her new assistant, Cardenas said, "Not yet, but I think we can work it out."

She got to her feet and Tavalera stood up beside her, smiling shyly. Holly thought, He looks so much better when he smiles.

Cardenas put out her right hand. "Welcome to the nanolab, Mr. Tavalera."

His long-fingered hand engulfed hers. "Raoul," he said. "My name's Raoul."

"I'll see you at the nanolab at eight
a.m.
sharp," Cardenas said.

"Eight hundred. Right. I'll be there."

Cardenas left. Tavalera stood uncertainly before Holly's desk for a moment, then said, "Thanks."

"De nada,"
said Holly.

"You meant it, about keeping this out of my dossier?"

"Certainly."

He fidgeted for a few heartbeats more, then said, "Uh ... would you like to have dinner with me tonight? I mean, I 'predate what you did for me
—
"

Holly cut him off before he spoiled it. "I'd be happy to have dinner with you, Raoul."

Two weeks later, Cardenas invited Edouard Urbain to her laboratory, to show him what progress she had achieved in decontaminating Gaeta's suit. Tavalera sat at the master console, set against the wall opposite the door to the corridor.

"Remember, Raoul," Cardenas said, "we want to be completely honest with Dr. Urbain. We have nothing to hide."

He nodded, and a small grin played across his face. "I got nothing to hide because I don't know anything."

Cardenas smiled back at him. "You're learning fast, Raoul. I'm very impressed with you." To herself, Cardenas thought, He's been a lot brighter than I thought he'd be. Maybe having a couple of dates with Holly has helped him to cheer up about being stuck here.

When the chief scientist stepped through the door, more than ten minutes late, he looked as tense and guarded as a man walking into a minefield. Cardenas tried to put him at his ease by showing him through her small, immaculately neat laboratory.

"This is the assembly area," she said, pointing to a pair of stainless steel boxlike structures resting atop a lab bench. Gauges and control knobs ran across the face of each. "The nanomachine prototypes are assembled in this one," she patted one of the breadbox-sized enclosures, "and then the prototype reproduces itself in here."

Urbain kept a conspicuous arm's length from the apparatus. When Cardenas lifted the lid on one of the devices, he actually flinched.

Cardenas tried not to frown at the man. "Dr. Urbain, there is nothing here that can harm you or anyone else."

Urbain was clearly not reassured. "I understand, in my head. Still... I am nervous. I'm sorry, but I can't help it."

She smiled patiently. "I understand. Here, come over to the main console."

For more than an hour Cardenas showed Urbain how the nano
m
achines were designed and built. How they reproduced strictly according to preset instructions.

"They're machines," she stressed, over and over. "They do not mutate. They do not grow wildly. And they are deactivated by a dose of soft ultraviolet light. They're really quite fragile."

With Tavalera running the scanning microscope from the main console, Cardenas showed how the nanomachines she had designed broke up the contaminating molecules on the exterior of Gaeta's suit into harmless carbon dioxide, water vapor, and nitrogen oxides.

"The suit is perfectly clean within five minutes," she said, pointing to the image from the console. "The residues outgas and waft away."

Urbain appeared to be intrigued as he leaned over Tavalera's shoulder and peered intently at the data and imagery. "All the organics are removed?"

Nodding, Cardenas said, "Down to the molecular level there's not a trace of them remaining."

"And the nanobugs themselves?"

"We deactivate them with a shot of UV."

"But they are still on the surface of the suit? Can they reactivate themselves?"

"No," said Cardenas. "Once they're deactivated they're finished. They physically break down."

Urbain straightened up slowly.

"As you can see, we can decontaminate the suit," Cardenas said.

"Not merely the suit," Urbain said, his eyes looking past her. "This process could be used to decontaminate every piece of equipment we send to Titan's surface."

"Yes it could," Cardenas agreed.

For the first time since entering the nanotechnology laboratory, Urbain smiled.