Jupiter (46 page)

'But the work here… the Jovians…"

'That is for you to continue. And Dr Muzorawa, when he returns.'

'He'll be returning?'

'Once he has recovered, yes. I have nominated him to be my successor. Both the IAA and the various religious factions have agreed. But he will not participate in any future missions into the ocean.'

Grant thought that over for a few seconds. Zeb's coming back. He'll be the station director. And I'm expected to continue the studies of the Jovians.

He said slowly, 'Then the New Morality hasn't totally gutted our work.'

'How could they? The entire world is watching us now, thanks to you. Some are fearful, many are curious. You have opened a new chapter in human history, Mr Archer.'

'Not me. I didn't—'

'You had the presence of mind to broadcast
Zheng He's
findings to the entire world. No one could keep our discoveries secret once those data capsules began singing their song.'

Grant's legs felt too weak to hold him up. He leaned his back against the cold metal wall and slid down to a sitting position.

'The religious fanatics are very angry with you, Mr Archer,' said Wo. 'The Zealots want to kill you.'

'What good would that do them?'

'Not much, but they are furious and frustrated. An evil combination.'

Grant suddenly remembered, 'They killed Irene Pascal, didn't they?'

Wo's expression hardened. 'Dr Pascal's death was an accident. An inadvertent suicide.'

'No,' said Grant.

'Yes,' Wo insisted. 'She took an overly large dose of amphetamines, which led to her death in the high pressure environment aboard
Zheng He
.'

'Irene didn't take the drugs knowingly,' Grant said.

'A board of inquiry has examined the incident. They have made their decision. The case is closed.'

'It wasn't an incident,' Grant snapped. 'It was a murder!'

Wo's voice took on a steely edge. 'No, Mr Archer. Let it rest.'

'But I know—'

'The case is closed!'

For a long moment the two men started at each other, eyes locked. Grant could not fathom what was going on in Wo's mind. But he knew his own thoughts. It may be over for you and your board of inquiry, he said silently, but it's not over for me. I know Irene was murdered and I know who did it.

'The IAA has appointed Dr Indra Chandrasekhar as interim director here.'

Grant stirred out of his inner turmoil. 'Chandrasekhar? I don't know her.'

'Your recognition is not a prerequisite for the position,' said Wo, smiling thinly.

Grant made no reply.

'She has been heading the studies of the Galilean moons. A very good leader. She comes from a long line of excellent scientists.'

'She'll be in charge until Zeb returns?'

'Yes, and you will direct the studies of the Jovian creatures that you found in the ocean,' Wo said, his smile widening. Then he added, 'Whether they are intelligent or not.'

'They're intelligent. I'm convinced of that.'

'Good! Now all you have to do is prove it so completely that the rest of the world will believe it.'

'Including the New Morality?'

Wo laughed. 'The New Morality, the Holy Disciples, The Light of Allah… even the Zealots.'

Grant nodded, accepting the challenge. The first thing I'll have to do is go over the data we recorded. We can slow down the visual imagery so we can see the pictures the whales are flashing to each other. We've got to repair
Zheng He
or maybe build a new vessel…

Dr Wo broke into his train of thoughts. 'It will be necessary for you to remain here.'

'Yes, I understand.'

'You have earned a release from your Public Service obligation, of course. You could go back to Earth if you wish.'

'But the work is being done here.'

'Exactly. And - frankly - you are much safer here than on Earth, where some Zealot fanatic can murder you.'

There's a Zealot fanatic here on this station, Grant thought. At least one. And I know who it is.

'Beech is keeping me incommunicado,' Grant said. 'Egon and the women, too. I can't even get a message out to my wife.'

Dr Wo nodded knowingly. 'I have seen to it that you can have the freedom of the station. You needn't be confined to the infirmary. As for messages home…' He shrugged his heavy shoulders. 'I'm afraid Mr Beech has the upper hand in the communications department.'

Grant stared at the older man. It's a struggle, he realized. A battle between Wo and Beech. Neither side has a completely free hand. And I'm caught in the middle of their power struggle.

Dr Wo intruded on his thoughts. 'Very well, then, Mr Archer. There is one last farewell for you to make.'

'Farewell?' Grant asked.

Wo gestured toward Sheena's darkened pen.

'Sheena's leaving?'

'We have no further need of her. Perhaps the dolphins can be of help in your attempts to establish meaningful contact with the Jovians, but Sheena is too much like us to be of any help in your work.'

'What's going to happen to her?'

Wo sighed heavily. 'The simplest thing to do would be to sacrifice her. Then we could dissect her brain and—'

'No!' Grant shouted.

Raising both his hands placatingly, Dr Wo said, 'I agree. It would be a criminal act. I am taking Sheena back to Earth with me, to a primate research center in Kinshasa. They are quite anxious to have her, in fact.'

'She'll be all right there?'

'She will be welcomed. They have augmented several other apes. Sheena will not be an anomaly there. If all goes well, she will be the mother of a new breed of creatures, the founder of dynasties. And another challenge to the fundamentalists.'

'She'll be protected there?'

'By force of arms, if necessary. She is an extremely valuable entity.'

Grant felt a glow of satisfaction. 'She'll be among her own.'

'I believe so,' said Wo.

'I wish…' Grant could not finish the sentence. He swallowed hard and fought back tears, feeling embarrassed to be emotional about a gorilla.

Wo touched the keypad built into his chair's armrest, and the overhead lights brightened to their daytime level.

'I can make the sun rise,' he said, wryly. 'One of the privileges of being station director.'

And Sheena wakes up with the sun, Grant remembered. He turned expectantly toward the entryway to her pen. Will she still be angry at me? he wondered.

Very gently, Wo said, 'She asked to see you.'

'She did?'

'When I told her you had been injured, she became rather upset.'

Grant didn't know what to say.

He heard her shambling out of her pen, huffing and snuffling like anyone who'd just awakened from a good night's sleep. As he scrambled to his feet he caught a trace of the thick animal scent of her. Then Sheena appeared in the entryway, massive hairy shoulders brushing both edges of the open hatch.

'Grant,' the gorilla rasped.

'Hello, Sheena.'

She turned her eyes briefly to Dr Wo, but immediately looked back at Grant.

'Grant hurt.'

'I'm all right now, Sheena. I'm fine.'

'No hurt?'

'Not any more,' said Grant. 'It's good to see you, Sheena.'

'Sheena no hurt.'

She remembers the neural net, all right, Grant realized. But maybe she's forgiven me for it.

The gorilla glanced at Dr Wo again, then took a knuckle-walking step toward Grant. Grant extended his hand to her, palm up. Sheena reached out her enormous hand and touched Grant's palm lightly.

'Grant friend,' she said.

'And Sheena is my friend,' he replied.

'Yes. Friends.'

Dr Wo broke in, 'Sheena and I are going to a new place where Sheena will make many new friends.'

The gorilla seemed to consider this for a moment, then said, 'New friends. Grant too?'

'I'm afraid not, Sheena. I've got to stay here for a while. Maybe later I'll come and see you.'

'You come. See new friends. See Sheena.'

'I will,' Grant promised, hoping that he would one day be able to keep his word.

Surprised at how difficult it was for him to bid farewell to Sheena, Grant returned to the infirmary where he and Karlstad stood patiently for a final checkup by the little martinet who headed the medical staff. Once officially released, they dressed quickly and headed for their quarters, both of them walking awkwardly, their electrode-studded legs still feeling alien, barely under their own control.

Grant went past his own door.

Karlstad, tottering along beside him, said, 'Have you forgotten where you live?'

'I have something to do,' Grant said. 'A lot of things, come to think of it.'

'The only thing I want to do is get a decent meal and get the medics to shut down these damned biochips, so I can feel like a whole human being again.'

Grant nodded absently and kept on going as Karlstad stopped in front of his own door.

'And then I'm going to look up Laynie,' Karlstad called after him. 'For real.'

Grant paid him no attention. Tamiko. All this time, Tamiko has been working for Beech.
Really
working for him, not just going through the motions the way I did. She's a Zealot. She's dangerous.

He went to Hideshi's quarters and rapped on the door. It rattled slightly. Funny, Grant thought, I never noticed how flimsy these doors are.

'Who is it?' Hideshi's voice called.

'Grant Archer.'

She slid the door back and ushered Grant into her compartment with a silent gesture. As he stepped in he saw a garment bag lying open on the bed, clothes scattered around it. The drawers of her desk hung open and empty.

'You're leaving?' he asked.

'With Beech, yes.'

'You're one of his agents, aren't you?'

'That's obvious,' Hideshi said, walking back to the bed and sitting on it, among the clothes.

'And you're a Zealot.'

Hideshi did not answer.

'You'd kill me if Beech told you to, wouldn't you?'

She made a sour face. 'He won't. It'd be pointless now. You've done your damage. No sense making a martyr out of you.'

'How could you kill a human being?' Grant asked, incredulous despite himself.

'To prepare the way for His kingdom,' she said, as if reciting from rote. 'To do His work. I'm willing to give my own life, if needed.'

'But that's not what God wants.'

'How would you know,' she sneered. 'You're on
their
side. You'll all burn in hell.'

Grant went to her desk and sank into its chair. 'Tami, this isn't about religion.'

'Oh no?'

'No,' said Grant, feeling weary, drained. 'It's politics. Don't you see? The New Morality is using religion as a cover for its political agenda. It was never about religion. It was always politics.'

'You're dead wrong, Grant. We're doing God's work. You secularists are on the side of the devil.'

'By their fruits—'

'Don't quote Scripture at me!' Hideshi snapped. 'Don't try to convert me to your atheist ways!'

'But I'm a Believer!'

'So you say.'

It was like talking to a statue, Grant thought. Then he recalled his real reason for coming to her.

'You killed Irene Pascal, didn't you?'

Hideshi looked surprised, almost shocked. 'Me? Why would I do that?'

'To wreck the deep mission.'

She laughed at him. 'Brightboy, are you ever wrong! I didn't kill anybody.'

'Then who did?'

'Kayla.'

'Kayla! She's one of you?'

With a satisfied smirk, Hideshi said, 'Go ask her.'

Grant prowled through the station, searching. Kayla, he was telling himself. She's one of the Zealots. The whole station must be infested with them. I've got to find her before she does any more damage. Before she kills someone else or tries to blow up the whole station.

The more Grant thought about it, the more he was convinced that Tamiko had told him the truth. The Panther, with her perpetual angry scowl, had been alone with Irene that last night. Kayla fed her the amphetamines that killed her.

At first he had thought it must have been Devlin. The Red Devil had access to all kinds of drugs, and he'd sold some to Irene, Grant knew. But Irene was too intelligent to take a harmful dose. She would never do that to herself. No, the overdose had to be slipped to her unknowingly, by someone she knew and trusted. Someone she loved.

Kayla Ukara. A Zealot. A fanatic. A murderer.

He searched the station for her, starting with her usual work station in the sensor lab and combing labs and maintenance shops until at last he pushed through the doors of the mission control center.

The center was silent, dimly lit, the big wallscreens blank, the consoles dead. Except for the one at which Ukara sat, staring into one small screen, hunched over, elbows on the console keyboard, head resting in her hands, eyes locked on the single glowing screen.

Grant padded softly down the ramp that had been built to accommodate Dr Wo's wheelchair. He stopped when he could see, over Ukara's shoulder, that the screen she was watching displayed a video of Irene Pascal.

'You killed her,' Grant said.

She wheeled around, shock showing clearly on her face.

'You murdered Irene.'

For an instant Grant thought she was going to leap at him, fingers curled into claws. Then she relaxed, the anger and surprise in her face faded away, and she slumped back in the little wheeled chair.

'I killed Irene,' Ukara admitted. 'It wasn't murder, but I killed her, yes.'

'You tried to wreck the deep mission,' said Grant.

Ukara shook her head. 'All I wanted to do was to save Irene. I didn't want her to go on the mission. She herself was frightened of it, terrified almost, but she was too loyal to refuse the assignment.'

'Save her?' Grant snapped. 'By feeding her enough amphetamines to kill her?'

'It wasn't a fatal dose,' Ukara replied, looking miserable now. 'I didn't know it would kill her. I just wanted her to get sick enough to be taken off the mission.'

Grant pulled up one of the other chairs and sat down next to her. 'I wish I could believe that.'