The Cage of Zeus (15 page)

In fact, hearing that some Monaurals went mad from staring at it had shocked em. Ridiculous. What could be more inspiring than the eternal swirling clouds of Jupiter?

The Rounds were headed beyond Jupiter. Beyond the eye of Zeus and even farther beyond the solar system. Fortia’s heart raced just thinking about it. The universe held limitless mysteries and perils for those thirsting to comprehend it, and tested the wills of its explorers, forcing them to confront their mortality.

Fortia worried that the second generation’s curiosity was being directed less toward space and more toward internal matters such as their relationship with the Monaurals.

The Rounds had overstayed their time on Jupiter-I.

Unlike Monaurals born on Earth and Mars, the Rounds had lived in proximity to Jupiter from the start. The law forbade them to travel to the planets.

Thus, the only home that existed for the Rounds from the very beginning was Saturn and beyond. That was where their curiosity should be directed. But because the construction of the supership was delayed, they had found a diversion in the Monaurals.

Something had to be done.

“I’m not surprised,” said Album. “The Monaurals from Earth and Mars are too much of a temptation for the Rounds. As intelligent and inquisitive as the Rounds are, they can’t help being fascinated by everything. It’s a double-edged sword. We’ll just have to make laws to restrain them. With laws of our own making.”

“You want us to do something to restrict the Rounds?”

“They’re only acting out because there’s no penalty for doing so. All we have to do is increase our numbers and toss out the bad apples.”

“And what becomes of these bad apples?”

“They can work in Monaural society,” Album said. “After their sex is surgically fixed, of course.”

Fortia pondered what Album was telling em. “The Monaurals control our procreation. We’ll have to discuss it with Kline.”

IV

1

ON THE DAY
the first cargo vessels were scheduled to arrive, Shirosaki and Harding stationed eight members of the security teams at the entrance to the special district.

The remaining thirty-two guarded the docking bay. Two cargo ships were scheduled in from Asteroid City, and one unmanned vessel carrying lab specimens from Europa was also due.

The two vessels from Asteroid City arrived first.

The automated system transported the containers into the station’s warehouse. The security teams inspected the cargo containers brought in on the lift one by one.

Next, the two fully armed squads boarded the vessels and searched inside and out. The members all wore full environmental suits to protect against biological or chemical weapons.

Shirosaki waited outside the warehouse along with the remaining members of the security teams.

Given the mundane nature of the operation, Harding had put Shirosaki in charge of the inspections. In the event of an emergency, however, Harding would assume operational command.

Having heard about the altercation in the mess, Shirosaki worried about Harding turning into a loose cannon in a combat situation.

Harding wasn’t the type to lose control on a whim. In fact, despite his fierce temperament, he was probably actually a reasonable man. Which was why he would be harder to keep in check if he lost control. Shirosaki recognized how much harder it was to rein in someone acting on conviction than someone fueled by emotion.

As much as he understood the man’s reticence, Shirosaki wished Harding would tell him what had gone on between his team and the Rounds. Harding and his team would return to Mars once this mission was over. But Shirosaki would be cooped up in this station for at least another year. He wanted as much information as humanly possible, especially about matters that had not been reported to Captain Hasukawa.

Harding silently looked on as his team continued the task at hand. He didn’t so much as crack a joke with Shirosaki. Shirosaki entertained the idea of asking Harding point blank before he was set to leave the station, but the very thought made him uneasy.

The inspection turned up nothing from the two cargo vessels. The crew aboard were seasoned regulars who’d spent years shuttling between Asteroid City and Jupiter. Once the inspection was complete, the crewmembers made their way to the recreation facilities for a drink with some friends they’d made on the station. The security staff looked on in envy as the crew exited the docking bay.

A flashing light signaled the arrival of the unmanned vessel from Europa. This would be the last vessel. After this, the next shipment from Asteroid City would not arrive until next month. If everything on this incoming vessel checked out, the teams would be idle on this station for nearly thirty days.

Shirosaki stole a look at Harding’s face. Harding was glaring in the direction of the vessel, his jaws clenched, as if he were willing the enemy onboard.

The automated system began to move. The security staff stood in front of the lift and waited.

The cargo was comprised of containers holding various microorganisms and other specimens drilled out of Europa’s icy crust—not nearly big enough for anyone to stow away in. Having been repeatedly warned by Kline to handle the temperature-controlled specimens with care, the security team opened the containers and quickly sealed them back up again.

Suddenly, the lift stopped.

“The containers are stuck in the cargo hold,” reported Arino, who’d been monitoring the activity from a computer terminal. “What should we do?”

“Something wrong with the lift?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe something got caught or one of the containers has jammed the door.”

“It may be a trap. Let’s send in some checkers.”

Shirosaki sent in a dozen or so wireless checking devices by way of the automated system. The checkers fired their thrusters to move about the ship in zero gravity and checked for any monomolecular wire traps and explosives. The data were sent back and displayed in real time on the security team’s data goggles.

Harding frowned at the temperature and humidity readings being sent back from inside the ship. “The humidity inside the cargo hold is at eighty percent. Why so high? Could it be a sensor malfunction?”

“All of the checkers are registering the same readings. Maybe the environmental controls are down. What do you want to do?” asked Shirosaki. “Send in an inspection team?”

“I’m not seeing any other abnormal readings. Let’s get them in there.”

“How many?”

“Eight.”

Eight members from the team boarded the vessel with the checkers still in the cargo hold as a precaution.

There were roughly half of the containers remaining in the cargo hold. With one hand on their weapons, the security team members checked the lift and reported back to Shirosaki.

“Nothing blocking the path of the lift. And the cargo can get through the doors just fine. It may be a problem with the lift’s controls—a bug or something.”

“Check inside the containers.”

“Roger that.”

Though the individual pieces of cargo were small, the containers holding them were massive and could easily hide a number of people inside.

The members stood around one container in semispherical formation. They dug their feet against the floor, activating the adhesive suction on the soles of their shoes to fix them in place. Lowering their stances a bit, they steadied their guns loaded with alloy bullets. Standard-issue ammunition for space deployment had been developed to reduce the damage to the walls inside spacecraft and stations. Though not as dense as the ammunition used planetside, the bullets could pierce environmental suits at close range.

One man pressed a button, and the door of the container began to open.

The eyes of the security team members grew wide.

An enormous transparent mass covered by a thin membrane appeared from behind the door. The membrane suddenly burst as if someone had popped it with a needle. The checkers instantly began to analyze the chemical plume.

“Get back! Get clear of the gas!” Shirosaki and Harding yelled at the same time.

Kicking off the ground, the members scattered away from the containers. They grew ashen upon reading the numbers displayed on their data goggles.

“It’s hydrogen sulfide. Two thousand ppm—that’s enough to induce respiratory arrest.”

“Take it easy,” Harding said. “Your masks will protect you. The humidity is what we need to worry about. It’s already exceeded ninety percent. If the sulfide mixes with the moisture in the air, it’ll turn into sulfuric acid.”

The rest of the containers slowly began to open at once, releasing the same transparent masses, which burst one after the next to disperse their toxic gas into the atmosphere.

A humidifier from somewhere inside the cargo hold appeared to be raising the humidity onboard.

Moisture began to coat the body armor of the security team and the outer shell of the checkers.

“A sulfuric acid mist is beginning to form,” said Arino, reporting back the readings lighting up the computer terminal before him. “Something is emitting ultraviolet radiation to turn the sulfur dioxide into sulfur trioxide. The containers were filled with massive quantities of sulfur compounds.”

“All right, get the hell out of there,” Harding alerted the team. “Make sure you seal the door behind you. We have to keep this gas contained.”

After the team was safely off the vessel, Miles turned to Shirosaki and Harding. “What now? If we don’t do something, that ship’s cargo hold will turn into a bottle bomb filled with sulfide. If there are any explosives aboard, the ship could blow and contaminate the docking bay.”

“We either neutralize it or tow the entire vessel away from the station and abandon it somewhere near Jupiter,” Shirosaki said.

“Sulfuric acid,” said Harding with a disgusted look. “The bastards didn’t have to look too hard for the stuff seeing how there’s plenty of it on Europa and Io.”

After making certain the evacuated team was all right, Shirosaki contacted Kline to recommend disengaging the cargo vessel from the dock.

Kline authorized the move almost immediately, adding that they would be able to control the ship by transmitting commands from the station’s system. “We’ll send the ship into Jupiter and let the internal atmospheric pressure implode it.”

The control room operator sent the ship the requisite commands.

Slowly the ship lurched away from the docking bay. The bow turned away from the station.

“Why is the ship wobbling like that?” Miles asked, as he watched it pull away on a monitor. “Has the navigation program miscalculated its flight path?”

Suddenly, the ship’s directional propulsion system seemed to falter. The ship listed to the side and crashed into the docking bay. A chill passed over the security team.

“What the hell happened?”

“I’m not sure, sir,” responded the operator behind the controls.

“Any damage to the ship?”

“Negative, all green.”

“The sulfide onboard?”

“I’m not reading any leaks.”

“Any damage to the station?”

“Some exterior damage from the collision, but the environmental systems haven’t been compromised.”

“Smooth move, kid,” said Harding, shooting a dirty look at the young operator on the monitor.

“The data I sent was correct, sir,” the operator insisted. “Someone must have tampered with the ship’s program.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Just get the damn thing pointed toward Jupiter and get it out of here!”

The operater transmitted the commands repeatedly to stop the ship’s teetering. Every time the bow crashed against the inner walls of the docking bay shivers ran down Shirosaki’s spine.

From the control room, Preda watched the ship stagger repeatedly like a drunkard. “I doubt anyone won the bet now,” he mumbled to himself. “It’s been an hour already.”

Suddenly, everyone in the control room felt the ground beneath them shake and heard an explosion that sounded like a crack of thunder in the distance.

Preda and Kline looked at each other.

“What was that?”

A piercing siren rang throughout the station.

The threat was not in the docking bay. The explosion had come from somewhere inside the station.

2

TEI WAS ROUSTED
awake from eir nap by the violent explosion that shook eir bed.

As ey leapt out of bed with a palpable disquiet, eir wearable bleeped. “Doctor, we need you in the lab right away. There’s been an explosion.”

“Did someone mishandle some volatile chemicals?”

“I don’t know. But the damage is extensive. It’s as if a bomb exploded.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Tei darted down the corridor. Upon arriving outside the infirmary to retrieve eir medical pack, Tei was stunned.

The door of the infirmary was gone. The steel door lay in a twisted pile in the middle of the corridor. The smell of inert gas from the automatic extinguishing system filled the air, and the cabinets and medical equipment had been smashed to pieces. The infirmary had been reduced to rubble.

Had the earlier communication been some kind of mistake? It was the infirmary that had exploded, not the lab.

Tei found Dr. Wagi crouched over and attending to the wounds of the blood-soaked doctor who’d been on duty. “So the explosion was here,” said Tei.

“And the lab. Everything inside the lab and the infirmary is useless. You’ll have to get whatever supplies we need from the warehouse. I’ll stay here. You get to the lab. The damage is worse over there.”

Tei ran down the corridor.

Everyone had known the terrorists were targeting the station. How did they manage to plant the explosives? The security staff had been guarding the docking bay to intercept any intruders.

Suddenly, Tei was assailed by a feeling of unease.

Ey understood why they had bombed the lab, but why the infirmary?
Was it a preemptive strike to prevent our using the medical equipment and supplies? If so, why?

Just as Wagi had warned, the damage to the lab was far worse than the infirmary. Several workers were scattered across the floor.

Tei slipped on a mask and goggles. Ey gave the injured a local anesthetic and began to treat their wounds.

“Were they after the equipment?” Tei asked the doctor nearby, as ey continued to treat the patient before em. “They must have known we would have backups of the data.”

“Probably,” he answered. “They really did a job on the hardware. It’ll be months before we can resume our bioscientific experiments.”

“Still, this isn’t the way to put a stop to the experiments,” Tei said. “We can easily resume our experiments with new equipment and continue to analyze our data by transferring the backup data elsewhere. If the terrorists were trying to paralyze us completely, they should have bombed the entire station.”

“Maybe they were just trying to scare us.”

“But that’s ridiculous. None of the staff here would think of abandoning their research over a setback like this,” Tei said.

“They’re probably sending us a message that this could happen to our families. The sick bastards.”

“How did they plant the explosives?”

“I don’t know,” said the doctor, shaking his head. “But this was done by someone who has access to the lab. Look around. Do you see how the room exploded from the interior out? Not from below or from the ceiling. The blast came from inside this room. Not to mention the way the research equipment was specifically targeted. Someone was able to bypass the docking bay and access this place without inviting suspicion.”

“You don’t think someone on the staff…?”

“As much as I hate to think about it, we can’t rule out that possibility.”

“Have you reported this to control?” Tei asked.

“Almost immediately. They’re going to do a background check on all the staff. Hopefully it isn’t too late.”

3

THE MAINTENANCE SHAFTS
were located in the outer portion of the station, or below the station from the point of view of its residents. The only route connecting the entire station, aside from using the high-velocity elevators, was a network of shafts crisscrossing the entire station like a grid.