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The habitat looked as if it had been through one hell of a storm when they arrived. Maybe the storm had not been recent, but had occurred before the attack on the habit? She’d made it a point to question the workers below about any life forms. None had caught more than a glimpse of a few, small swimming things. She’d assumed the activity must have driven the indigenous life further away, but what if it was a combination of the storm and the creatures higher on the food chain hunting their food out?

Dropping her pen to the desk, she rubbed her eyes and then massaged her temples. The headache was back, probably as much from lack of food as from the hours she’d spent pouring over the reports. She was tempted to walk up to sickbay and beg a painkiller off of Tuttle.

That thought prompted another possibility—that the information she was searching for regarding encounters, or sightings, of the creature might be in the medical reports.

Bringing up the computer, she began scanning the list of files, wondering if Raphael had broken the system security completely, allowing her access to everything, or if he’d merely unlocked the log-on.

She stopped when she reached MANAGEMENT studying it, wondering if she dared access it. Clearly, it was Johnson’s files, but she could always argue, if it came into question, that she was higher management on site. Brushing aside her sudden nerves, she opened the file and scanned the files inside. One stood out. Like the button marked ‘do not push’ its title alone was enough to draw her in.

EXTREMELY SENSITIVE MATERIAL!

She opened the file and read:

Glitch regarding geneoid construction 18945: Further tests have led us to conclude that the particular combination of traits implanted in the crew are not reversible at this time. Since this violates penal law, this is a situation that must be handled with utmost delicacy. The attempt to terminate the experiment en-route failed.

Recommendation: The crew must be kept on Kay until and unless we are able to unravel the problem. Use whatever means necessary. Geneoid’s expendable.

Further to the defect in geneoid construction: The accelerated growth hormones have failed to level out per expectations. Expected limitations regarding their ability to withstand normal human conditions are exceeded. Prolonged exposure to breathing air expected to result in serious health complications. Calculations of maximum exposure narrowing from 12 hours maximum to 10 within the first month of release. However, if the growth hormone continues to accelerate maturity, this time frame will be further limited as it progresses. It is considered a strong likelihood that the geneoids will progress beyond the point of being able to tolerate normal human conditions, which will render them useless except as miners on KAY2581.

It was her second shock of the day and by far more stunning. Victoria stared at the screen in dawning horror as the meaning began to slowly sink into her sluggish thought processes. Black specks gathered and began to swim before her eyes as she struggled to force herself to breathe.

Something, some sound or movement, drew her attention toward the door and she turned. Raphael was standing in the opening, watching her.

Moments passed while she struggled to force herself to speak. “I didn’t know,” she finally said faintly. “I swear to you I didn’t know.”

He studied her for a long moment. “In the end, does it matter?”

Victoria swallowed with an effort, unable to think clearly. One thought, or perhaps emotion, emerged, however. “It matters to me that you know that I didn’t ... wouldn’t have anything to do with this ... this....” Words failed her.

“Glitch?”

Shame and guilt brought the blood that had rushed away from her head at the discovery flooding back in a hot tide. She realized it was useless to try to explain that it was shame and guilt by association, not because of anything she’d done directly, but because she worked for a company guilty of such an atrocity. It wouldn’t matter to him. All that mattered was that he’d discovered they had been betrayed by the people who had created them and they were to be abandoned on this rock as if they were nothing but an embarrassment, to be swept under the rug.

Before she could think of anything to say, he was gone.

* * * *

Victoria stared at the door for several moments. The urge was nearly overpowering to go after him and try to explain, to try to make him understand that she would never have betrayed anyone in such a way, and him least of all. Her pride held her where she was.

He had to know how she felt. He must. If it made no difference to him, how could it make a difference if she swallowed her pride and went to him? What could she say, or do, that would make him feel differently?

What if she swallowed her pride only to have him trample it by refusing even to listen?

She thought about it for some moments and finally realized that she’d recover even if he did. She wasn’t so certain she would ever be able to forgive herself if she didn’t even try.

Rising, she left her room before she could change her mind, entered his without knocking. He looked up when she entered, his expression guarded. “Did you need something?”

She nodded. “You.”

He didn’t move, but she sensed his withdrawal. “Leave it.”

“I tried. I discovered I couldn’t. You told me something. I want to know if it was true, or just pretty words you thought would please me.”

Something flickered in his eyes, but his expression hardened. “Don’t.”

“Why?” she cried. “You have to know I knew nothing at all about that. You have to! As many times as you’ve entered my thoughts, wouldn’t you have learned it?”

He stood abruptly and moved away from her. “I never thought you did.”

“Why then? Why have you withdrawn? Why are you so cold?”

“Because nothing I believed I could have can be mine!” he said angrily. “Not you. Not the life I wanted. It’s pointless to pursue something you know you can never have!”

“You said you loved me,” Victoria said quietly.

“I will always love you, Victoria.” He said, almost tiredly as his anger subsided, then smiled wryly. “But my always will not be nearly as long as I thought.”

“You don’t know that!”

“You read it. We’ve become a glitch, not human, geneoids.”

Victoria thought for several moments that she would cry. She mastered the impulse with an effort. “You are not a glitch—none of you are. You’re just as human as the rest of us ... and I don’t give a damn what it said. They were wrong before! What makes you so certain they’re right now? I’ve seen nothing, in any of you, to lead me to believe they know what they’re talking about.”

“The whole point is, they don’t know. What if the acceleration ages us ten years for every month of life? Or twenty? And even if they’re wrong about that, what if we reach a point where we can no longer even leave the sea? I will not be human then, even if the aging stops. I can not have a life with a human woman when I must live in the sea. And if none of it is true, and they’re wrong, we will never leave this place. The company would terminate us first.” Raphael scrubbed his hands over his face, dragged in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I suppose I’m a coward, but, knowing what I know now, I thought it would be best for you if I left you alone. Before it mattered to you. Before you could be hurt.”

Victoria smiled with an effort. “Too late.”

She moved toward him, stopping only when she was toe to toe with him. He stiffened, but he didn’t pull away. “Aren’t you going to ask why?”

He shook his head. “You should have just left it alone, Victoria. You should go now.”

“If you love me as you say you do, don’t do this to me. Don’t push me away. Stay with me now.”

He stared at her a long moment. “If you cared for me, you wouldn’t want to give me more pain than I can bear.”

It was an inarguable truth. It would, ultimately, be nothing but selfishness to take all he offered, perhaps to make it that much harder for him, knowing that she would be taken away from him when and if a ship came, and that he would be left behind. And still she felt the selfish urge to insist until he gave in. It took an effort to turn and leave.

Chapter Thirteen

Slowly, inexorably, rage filtered through Victoria. She wasn’t going to let the board of directors get away with it. They’d gotten away with too much, too long. They had grown so wealthy and powerful they believed they were beyond the reach of the law.

It was no accident that Johnson had left the file. He’d hoped it would be found and used to give those who’d lost their lives justice. She knew very well that he would’ve been given standing orders to destroy any file marked EXTREMELY SENSITIVE once he’d accessed the information.

Rifling through the drawers of the desk, she found a recording chip, deleted the information from it and began reading through Johnson’s files, selecting any that contained information regarding the company’s efforts to cover up the disaster on Kay and recording them on the chip.

It was almost three AM by the time she was satisfied that she’d collected as much evidence as there was to be had. Rising, she strode from her living quarters and made her way up to Tuttle’s quarters, rousing her. “I need you to implant this for me.”

Tuttle, still fuddled with sleep, merely stared at her blankly. “What is it?”

“Something I can’t afford to loose. Can you do it?”

“Now?”

“Right now.”

Nodding, Tuttle stumbled from her bed and into the bathroom. She looked far more alert when she emerged some minutes later and the two of them went down to medical. “Mind telling me what this all about?”

Victoria stared at her a long moment. “Criminal negligence and conspiracy among the company’s board of directors.”

Tuttle looked as if she might faint for several moments. She moved closer. “If what you say is true, it’s worth more than your life to them,” she whispered, glancing nervously around as if she expected security to leap out at them at any moment.

“I know. That’s why I asked you. You’re one of the few people I know that I’d trust with my life.”

Tuttle gulped, nodded jerkily. “Where do you want it implanted?”

Victoria thought about all of the more usual places and discarded them. She removed her tunic. “Here, above my heart.”

Tuttle blinked, and then a slow smile curled her lips. “Like a heart monitor, or a neuron chip?”

“Exactly.”

Tuttle was frowning as she worked, however. “It won’t fool the company. They have your records.”

“Security won’t have access to my medical records. All I need to do is get it past them.”

“All,” Tuttle said faintly. She shook her head as she finished sealing the edges of the incision with the laser. “Is it really worth the risk?”

Victoria thought it over, but decided she couldn’t give Tuttle any more information. The mining crew was telepathic. They probably knew too much already. Otherwise, Tuttle couldn’t divulge information she didn’t have. “It’s worth it,” she said simply, climbing off the table and pulling her tunic on once more. She stopped Tuttle as she turned to go back to her quarters. “Promise me something.”

Tuttle looked terrified, but she nodded.

“If you make it and I don’t, promise me you’ll retrieve the chip if you can and hand it over to someone you trust to do the right thing.”

Tuttle swallowed with some difficulty. “Raphael?”

The name sent agony flooding through her. She shook her head. “Raphael will never leave this planet.”

* * * *

Returning to her quarters, Victoria ripped the work schedule from the board and posted a meeting the following morning. She slept little. The murmur of voices woke her a few hours later. Rising, she showered, dressed and went out to face them.

They began pelting her with questions the moment she emerged. She held up her hand for silence. “Is everyone here?”

Everyone looked around. “Pretty much,” one of the miners volunteered.

“Pretty much isn’t everyone. Round them up while I grab a half gallon of coffee.”

Tuttle, looking tired and anxious, was the last to arrive. “Roach is awake and demanding to talk to you.”

“Later,” Victoria said shortly.

“He said it was important,” Tuttle said hesitantly.

“He thinks everything that concerns him is important. I’ll talk to him later. Has he been moved to the brig?”

Tuttle nodded. “Late yesterday.”

“Good. He won’t be going anywhere until I’ve had a chance to talk to him.”

She looked out over the assembly. “I called everyone here because I’ve finally had the chance to review all of the information we gathered regarding the incident that preceded our arrival. I’ve determined that the threat is ongoing.”

“What kind of threat?”

“What is it?”

“What are we going to do?”

Victoria held up her hand. “I don’t know what it is.”

That comment stunned everyone to silence for about five seconds.

“I thought you said you’d determined there was a threat?”

“How could you know there was a threat and not know what it is?”

Victoria pounded her hand on the table. “If you’d rather just discuss this among yourselves, I’ll leave you to it! If you want to hear what I know, or think, shut up, damn it, because I’m not going to try to shout over you!”

At that, an almost deafening silence fell. Victoria studied them a long moment before she tried again. “I know it’s ongoing, because there wasn’t a living soul here when we arrived. If they’d even managed to fight whatever it is off, there would have been some survivors. I knew this from the start.

“Unfortunately, I can’t find any reference to whatever it is, nothing to identify it because it seems no one who saw it survived to talk about it.”

Tuttle raised her hand. “I don’t think I follow.”

“There’s nothing in the reports. They were picked off, one by one, while everyone decided those who went missing had just had an accident, or wandered off, which means those left had no warning.”