Serpent's Gift (19 page)

Ssoriszs' tentacles, usually so graceful, kinked stiffly as he struggled to regain his composure. Baring one's fangs in the presence of a friend was considered very rude on Shassiszss, so the Mizari waited to speak until they were once more folded back against the paleness of his gums, no longer visible. "This is shocking, Rob. Thank the Spirits of the Stars and the Sands that they were able to rescue Greyshine! Where are they now?"

"Janet just called in. The shuttle will be here in just a few minutes."

"Professor Greyshine?"

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"Still unconscious. The medic said one leg was broken, and a couple of ribs.

But the head injuries are the most dangerous."

"What about Serge, Hing, and the Simiu student?"

"We won't know for sure until Dr. Mysuki and Dr. Zemez finish their examinations, but the rescue team didn't report any outward sign of radiation poisoning or burns. When I spoke to Serge, he said their suit detectors never activated, so the levels must have remained fairly low--at least while they were there, which is a major blessing." The psychologist frowned. "Physics isn't my strong suit, but I think I remember that radonium-2 reactions start slow and build until they're extremely volatile . .. right?"

Lost in thought, Ssoriszs didn't answer.
Further excavations may prove
impossible,
he was thinking.
Now I may never learn the fate of the Lost
Colony... and of my missing kin.
He felt suddenly very old, very insignificant, very alone in the vastness of this huge, indifferent universe. A moment later he realized that Rob was still staring at him, obviously waiting for a response, and the Mizari struggled to recall what his friend had been saying.

"Ssoriszs, are you al right?" Rob asked worriedly.

"Yes, of course, I am fine," the Liaison managed. "This is a shock, of course.

I am afraid that I lost the thread of what you were saying?"

"Radonium-2 reactions," the human prompted. "Fast or slow?"

"They are slow at the beginning," Ssoriszs confirmed. "However, if memory serves me accurately--and I am not a physicist either, remember--when the crystalline structure of normal radonium destabilizes to form radonium-2, the reaction builds almost exponentially. The cavern and the artifacts might then be in danger--and soon."

Rob gave the Liaison a glance that mingled surprise and-- Ssoriszs couldn't be sure--was it reproach? "Frankly, I'm more concerned about the school,"

the human said after a moment. "It's been over six years since I saw the radonium vein schematics of this asteroid, but I think the stuff crisscrosses this hunk of rock like a ball of yarn after Bast has played with it for a while. If any veins are near the school, and they destabilize into radonium-2, we're all apt to be history, right?"

Ssoriszs felt a wave of guilt.
How could I have been so self- centered?
he wondered. "I am abashed, Rob," he said quietly. "It never occurred to me that the school itself might be in danger, but you are correct. There are several veins of radonium near the school. One of them lies approximately fifty meters below us, and that one is the closest."

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Rob glanced down at his feet as though half expecting the floor to disintegrate any moment. "Oh, shit," he muttered.
"That
close?"

"Twenty-five or -six meters of solid rock constitutes a fairly substantial buffer," Ssoriszs pointed out mildly. "But still, the problem must be checked into immediately."

"Horizons Unlimited is the contractor charged with keeping tabs on the radonium," Rob said. "So I called them immediately. We're lucky that Jeff Morrow has been handling several projects out of StarBridge Station, so his secretary promised me that he'll call me as soon as he returns from his site inspection tour."

"When will that be? I do not believe we can afford to wait very long."

'Tomorrow, early. Janet wanted to go out to the Cliffs and start running tests, but I persuaded her to wait. H.U. will have state-of-the-art shielding and equipment."

"Of course," the Mizari agreed. "We are indeed fortunate that Jeffrey will be able to give this problem his personal attention. We
are
speaking of the same Jeffrey Morrow who was a student here, correct?"

"Yes. Jeff's a vice president and multisector foreman in his dad's space-construction and mining company now," Rob said. "He's very concerned for the school's welfare ... I know he'll give this his full attention. I'm sure the problem will be solved quickly." Ssoriszs, accustomed to reading human intonations and inflections after all these years, clearly heard the note of determined hope in his voice.

The alien shifted his coils restlessly as he selected his next words. "Still, I am disturbed about all of this, Rob. Horizons Unlimited performed a routine inspection here at the school and out at the Lamont Cliffs only a few of your Terran months ago. Why did they not detect signs of instability in the radonium deposits at that time?"

"Radonium can mutate into radonium-2 very rapidly," Rob pointed out.

"That's why Jeff's teams check it twice a year."

Ssoriszs thought about Jeff Morrow, remembering the youngster who had been so reserved, so stoically controlled, as he climbed aboard the ship that would take him back to Earth.
Never have I seen anyone face such a
profound failure with such courage,
he thought sadly. I
wish I could summon
some of that courage for myself. Perhaps then I would not feel so . ..

defeated.

Rob's dark eyes regarded him intently, and now they held no impatience, only sympathy. "I realize how you must feel," he said

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quietly. "I understand how important
this discovery was to your
people.

Perhaps Jeff can get this thing
cleared up with no problem, and
the team
of experts
can come out anyway."
a newly
discovered star-shrine to entice the Mizari Society, I should think they would," Ssoriszs
trying to
summon up some of Rob's optimism. "I will
certainly speak to
Rizzshor, the team leader, about this. I shall also," he went on, thinking swiftly, "contact Dr.

Andreiovitch
about
this development."

"Andreiovitch?"

"Mikhail Andreiovitch is one of the foremost experts on asteroid mining and small-body excavation in the CLS," Ssoriszs said. "He holds degrees from several Terran universities in geology, physics, and archaeology. He worked on the prototype of the first neutron emitter."

"Sounds like quite a guy," Rob murmured, suitably impressed. "And if he's a physicist, he'd know about radonium and radonium2."

"Precisely. I have known Mikhail for years, since he was nominated to the intercultural exchange program on Shassiszss. He will certainly be able to assess our situation here and offer valuable advice concerning the preservation of the site."

"As a doctor, I can certainly appreciate the merit in getting a second opinion," Rob said, leaning back with a tired sigh. "God, I'm bushed. It seems like it's just one thing after another these days. Why can't anything ever be simple?"

Now it was Ssoriszs' turn to look at his friend sympathetically. "You still have not heard from Shrys, have you?" he asked gently.

Rob ran a hand through his curls, wincing as he snagged several locks. "I've got to get a haircut," he muttered distractedly, then he sighed and shook his head. "No, I haven't heard from Shrys. And if he were coming back, I should have heard something by now. I know I shouldn't judge other cultures, traditions, or belief systems, but. .. Shrys had so much enthusiasm... so much to offer! But I'm afraid that he's already dead."

Ssoriszs gazed at his friend, noticing, for the first time, that gray hairs mingled with the dark ones on his head. The sight distressed him. "Do not give up hope," he said automatically, trying to sound encouraging--though without much success. Privately, he thought the human was probably correct.

"What is it?" Rob had noticed the alien's fixed stare. "What's wrong?"

"Robert, your hair . .." the Mizari hesitated. "I see light strands 111

mixed with the others. I never noticed them before. Is that not a sign of.. ." He stopped, trying to think of a way to phrase the question gently. "Human maturity?" he finished.

Rob began to chuckle, genuinely amused. "Always the diplomat, Esteemed Liaison," he teased. "You mean you never noticed my gray before? You need your eyes checked, old friend. Hey, at least I've still
got
hair. A lot of men my age don't have enough left to comb, if they let nature take its course--which most of them don't, they're too vain."

But after a moment the psychologist's expression sobered. "Let me tell you, Heather Farley is personally responsible for at least fifty of these silver threads--first that stunt with Khuharkk's toilet, then calling me today with her instructor, insisting that the students were in danger out at the site."

"She was correct," the Mizari said neutrally.

"She sure was." Rob shook his head. "That kid scares me, Ssoriszs. You know how far it is out to that dig! I never heard of a human receiving from that far away before! Heather is a much stronger telepath than anyone ever expected. I feel like I've got a tiger by the tail. I'm tempted to ship her back to Earth on the next ship."

"Today, we all have cause to praise her abilities," the alien reminded him.

"Yes, but what if tomorrow she decides to play jokes again . . . dangerous ones? She could be as lethal as the radonium-2," Rob finished bleakly. "I'm getting too old for this job, Ssoriszs."

"I was old before your father's father was born, Rob," the elderly Liaison said quietly. "If anyone on this asteroid has the right to complain about being too old, it is I."

"Please remove all clothing and all jewelry, placing your items in the chute to your left," the computer voice instructed.

Serge shivered convulsively as he began stripping off his one- piece garment. It wasn't that the nearly featureless cubicle was cold--like all of StarBridge, the infirmary was maintained at a constant temperature, unless otherwise dictated by the needs of the occupant. The chill came from inside him, and it had a name-- fear. He was scared, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from crying out or, worse yet, whimpering.

All the way back in the shuttle he'd been so composed, so calm--Hing had been the one shivering with reaction. She'd leaned against him, and Serge had put a comforting arm around her, reminding himself all the while not to take it for more than a

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simple
comfort-seeking response; any fellow human would have
served.

Now,
in
the
cramped safety of the decontamination cubicle,
Serge
watched gooseflesh spring out on his arms and belly, felt his genitals draw up against his groin. His heart pounded painfully, and he began to shake.
Calm
yourself,
he commanded himself sternly.
This is nothing but a delayed "fight
or flight" reaction. It will pass.

Forcing himself to take deep, slow breaths, in through his nose and out through his mouth, he fought the panic that wanted to consume him, and gradually it faded.

"Sensors indicate you have not removed all clothing or jewelry," the computer said. "Please comply with instructions. These procedures are essential for maximum safety and effectiveness."

"Tais-toi!"
he snapped. This was the second time today that a machine had given him orders, and he wished
this
one would shut up almost as much as the warning system out at the dig.

Fingering his school ring, he was tempted to disobey the command. What difference did it make if he kept it on, he wondered blackly. It wasn't as though his hands could be hurt by radiation-- unless radonium-2

contamination might overload the microsensors, the artificial neurons and ganglia, or the power pak. Staring down at the ring's yellow-orange flame gem set into a golden-red Mizari alloy, he thought of the day he'd first slid it on--and of how he had failed at the mission it symbolized. Scowling, Serge wriggled it off, dropping it on top of his clothing.

"Sensors indicate that you have not removed ..." the computer said again, and Serge realized that he'd forgotten the earring, Hing's gift. For a moment he was tempted to refuse, then he remembered that metal could become radioactive--and that his earlobe was flesh and blood. He had a sudden vision of half his ear oozing and finally falling off.
"Merde!"
he muttered, startling himself. He rarely swore--and almost never aloud.

Quickly he began tugging at the gem, wincing as he tried to twist the post free of the backing. He'd never taken the earring out since the day she'd given it to him, and the post seemed permanently welded into the back. But finally it gave, and the sapphire | came free. Gently, Serge laid it down inside the circle of the ring, wondering if he'd ever see it again.

Don't be paranoid,
he thought.
Remember, our suits never warned us. Our
exposure levels couldn't have been that high.
But he knew that the sensors in the caverns were far more sensitive than the ones built into pressure suits.

How much radonium-2 did it take

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to damage human tissue or chromosomes? He didn't know.

And Hing . .. she had ripped her suit; her exposure had to be more than his.

Fear gnawed at him again, but this time it was fear for her, not for himself.

Radiation sickness was a terrible way to die. He thought of her silky black hair falling out, and felt his stomach lurch queasily. And what about the Professor, who had received the most exposure of any of them? Would he live?

"Thank you for your compliance. Decontamination procedures will begin now. Please remain still throughout each treatment."

Taking a deep breath, Serge braced himself.

"Please close your eyes, as initial decontamination procedures begin," the computer instructed. "First step is a chemical shower. It will last ten seconds and will feel cold."