New Earth (38 page)

He couldn’t tell her about Brandon’s request; he might be overheard. Instead he asked her about her day,
and they chatted about inconsequential matters.

Until he said, “I’d really like to get back to the city as soon as I can.”

“Tomorrow?” she chirped.

With an unhappy smile, Jordan answered, “I don’t think so. I have a lot to do here.”

“I’ll come there, then.”

Jordan shook his head. “No. That would be … a problem. Let me work out what I have to do here and then I’ll call you.”

“I miss you,
Jordan.”

Almost whispering, he replied, “I miss you, too.”

They said reluctant good-byes, then Jordan clicked his phone shut. Maybe Bran has the right idea, he thought. Maybe stuffing Harmon into a cryosleep capsule is the answer to our problem.

*   *   *

He dreamt that night of Miriam: happy, laughing, in the healthy bloom of youth when he had first met her. And in his dream she morphed into
Aditi, happy, laughing, young.

He woke and sat up on the cot, thinking, How lucky you are, Jordan Kell. To find another woman who loves you. You had to travel more than eight light-years to find her, but find her you did.

For long moments he sat there and watched the dawn brightening the dome of the bubble tent. At last he told himself, Now you’ve got to do what’s necessary to keep her.

And
that means convincing Harmon to accept Adri and all he had told them.

A pang of memory assailed him as he shaved: Miriam’s last agonized days. But then he realized that the memory was his subconscious mind’s way of showing him a way to solve his problem.

Dressed in slacks and an open-necked shirt, Jordan found Meek in the dining area, his breakfast laid out on the table before him as precisely
as a military formation. Longyear was sitting beside him, the two of them leaning their heads together in intense conversation.

Jordan filled a tray with juice, buttered toast, and a steaming mug of coffee, then went to their table and sat down facing the astrobiologist.

“Good morning, all,” Jordan said cheerily. “May I join you?”

“Of course,” said Meek. Longyear nodded.

De Falla came up and
started unloading his tray opposite Jordan. “Good morning,” he said as he sat down.

Meek nodded at the geologist, said nothing as he reached for his glass of juice.

“I’m going back to the city this morning,” Jordan said as he lifted his own juice glass. “Anyone want to come along with me?”

“I’m busy with the geological mapping,” said de Falla. “Adri’s people have promised to send me a detailed
profile of the planet’s interior.”

“It must be fascinating,” Jordan said, “working out how they constructed this planet.”

De Falla nodded warily. “It’s hard to believe, constructing a whole planet. But it’s true. That’s what they did.”

“That’s what they claim they did,” Longyear objected.

“No, Paul,” said de Falla, “they did it. This planet’s been built around a hollow shell. We’re standing
on fourteen kilometers of dirt and rocks. Then there’s the metal shell, and inside it nothing but an energy generator that creates the gravitational field we feel.”

Longyear glanced at Meek, who said nothing, busily slicing the omelet on his plate.

“Thornberry’s working up the specifications of their grav generator,” de Falla went on. “He says it could make a tremendous weapon, handling all
that energy.”

“A planet wrecker,” Longyear muttered.

Jordan said, “Perhaps it would be best if we didn’t bring that level of technology back to Earth.”

Meek’s brows rose. “Will they let us return to Earth?”

“Yes, Harmon,” Jordan replied. “I’m sure they will.”

“When?”

“When we’re ready to leave, I should imagine.”

“I thought you said we were their prisoners,” Meek said.

“Adri won’t keep
us here against our will. His whole approach to dealing with us has been to answer our questions, honestly and forthrightly.”

“But not completely.”

Patiently, Jordan said, “Harmon, we’re like schoolchildren, compared to Adri’s people. We have a lot to learn, and they’re being very patient with us.”

“But you think they’ll allow us to leave?” Longyear asked.

“When we’re ready to, yes.”

“I wonder.”

“Come into the city with me and ask Adri yourself, Paul.”

Longyear seemed to think it over for a heartbeat, then he said, “All right, I’ll do that.” He hesitated, then added, “I’ve been thinking about taking them up on their offer to teach me what they know about biology.”

Meek looked up from his plate, startled, a forkful of omelet in midair.

“I mean, Mitch has learned a helluva lot about
physics from them. I’d like to learn what they know about biology.”

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” said Meek.

“It’s damned tempting,” Longyear said.

“So was the apple that Eve gave to Adam.”

“You think we’re going to damn ourselves?” Longyear challenged.

“I think we’re in over our heads,” said Meek.

Jordan smiled and said, “Harmon, if we are in over our heads, wouldn’t education be a good way
to get our heads above water?”

“Education or mind manipulation?”

“Does Mitchell seem different to you? Manipulated?”

Meek stared at Jordan for a wordless moment, then turned his attention back to the remains of his omelet.

As gently as he could, Jordan said, “Harmon, I’ve got to let Nara examine me. Would you go with me?”

“Examine you? What for? Are you ill?”

“It’s just a routine exam. I
picked up a bug before we left Earth and she wants to keep an eye on it.”

His eyes narrowing with suspicion, Meek asked, “And why do you want me to accompany you? Are you afraid she’s going to stick you with a needle?”

Longyear suppressed a laugh; de Falla grinned openly.

“Not exactly,” said Jordan. “But I’d appreciate it if you came along with me.”

Meek said nothing, clearly wondering what
was behind Jordan’s request.

“Of course,” Jordan said easily, “if you have something more important scheduled for this morning…”

“No,” Meek confessed. “My schedule is rather clear.”

“Then come along with me,” Jordan coaxed. “Please.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Meek said, “Oh very well. If it will make you happy.”

“It might make you happy, too, Harmon,” said Jordan.

BY THEIR FRUITS

Nara Yamaguchi looked surprised when Jordan and Meek entered her infirmary. It was in the same tent as the dining area and kitchen, a placement that seemed amusing to several of the team.

Tanya Verishkova joked about the efficiency of having medical help so conveniently close to the robotic cooks in the kitchen. “Potential poisoners,” she called the robots.

Yamaguchi was
sitting at her desk, studying medical records, when Jordan and Meek came in. The infirmary was small: her desk was tucked into one corner. Most of the space was taken up by the examination table and the compact array of diagnostic sensors built into an arch over the table.

Looking up from her display screen, she asked, “What can I do for you?”

“I’d like a checkup,” said Jordan.

Clearly puzzled,
Yamaguchi said, “Now?”

“Now,” Jordan answered. “And then I’d like you to show Harmon my medical record.”

Her round face took on a troubled frown. “Medical records are private, Jordan. You know that.”

“But you can allow Harmon to see my record if I request it.”

“I suppose so.” Reluctantly.

Nodding toward the examination table, Jordan said, “Let’s do a scan first.”

Meek seemed totally baffled
as Jordan removed his shoes, belt, and pocketphone, then lay back on the table for a full-body scan. The astrobiologist folded his arms across his narrow chest and watched, almost suspiciously, as the instruments arching above the table hummed and beeped.

Yamaguchi gestured toward her display screen. “Clean as a whistle, same as the last two times.”

Jordan nodded and said, “Now will you kindly
show Harmon my earlier scans?”

“Why do you want this?” Yamaguchi asked.

With a wintry smile, Jordan replied, “To show Harmon the truth.”

There was no other chair in Yamaguchi’s office, so she got up and offered Meek her own. He looked across at Jordan, then folded his lanky body into the little wheeled chair. It rolled slightly away from the desk and Meek reached out his long arms, grasped
the edge of the desk, and pulled himself back.

“What am I supposed to be looking for?” he asked Yamaguchi. “I’m an astrobiologist, not a physician.”

“Tell him,” Jordan said, as the image of his first examination, the day they all were revived from cryosleep, appeared on the screen.

Her brows knit in misgiving, Yamaguchi told Meek, “Jordan carried a genetically engineered virus in his lower
abdominal tract.” Pointing to the image on the screen, “There it is, false-colored red.”

Meek peered at the screen. “Genetically engineered?”

“I picked it up in Kashmir,” Jordan explained. “During the biowar.”

Startled, Meek exclaimed, “You mean this was one of their killer viruses?”

“A man-made plague. They killed millions with it.” Including my wife, he added silently.

“And you…”

“It was
dormant,” Jordan said. “It couldn’t be removed without chopping out half my intestines, it was so completely nestled inside me. The mission medical team decided it would remain dormant, so they cleared me for the trip. They thought that my time in cryosleep might even kill it.”

“But it didn’t,” said Yamaguchi.

“It’s still dormant?” Meek asked, clearly worried.

“It’s dead,” Jordan said. “Dead
and gone.”

“How did that happen?”

Jordan nodded to Yamaguchi. She smiled slowly, finally understanding. “The aliens killed it.”

“Adri’s people?”

“Aditi, to be specific,” said Jordan. “When I submitted to a physical exam in the city, she found the virus and destroyed it.”

“Destroyed it? How?”

Yamaguchi was beaming now. “I’ve been talking to their medical staff about that. Apparently they
have instrumentation that can detect the molecular vibrational modes of individual strands of DNA. Once they pin down the frequency, they hit the virus with a narrow ultrasound beam of the same frequency. That breaks up the virus and the body’s natural waste removal system flushes it out.”

Meek was gaping now. “An ultrasound beam of one particular frequency? Like a laser, but with sound waves?”

“Exactly,” Yamaguchi said. “This could revolutionize medical practice. It could replace surgery!”

“And it’s ordinary, everyday, routine practice for them,” Jordan added.

Meek looked from Jordan to Yamaguchi and back again, his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide. Suddenly he shot up from the little chair and bolted out of the infirmary.

Yamaguchi looked shocked. Without another word to her, Jordan
dashed out of the infirmary and raced after Meek.

The lanky astrobiologist was running past the camp’s tents, out across the open grassy glade, heading for the stately tall trees of the forest. Jordan ran after him. Meek’s long legs galloped across the grass. Jordan was puffing hard, trying to keep up with him. Nobody else seemed to be in sight; everyone else was indoors. Good thing, Jordan thought
as he ran after the fleeing Meek. We must look like a pair of buffoons. Or lunatics.

At last Meek reached the trees, slowed down, and finally stopped, gasping as he leaned against one of the tall, straight trunks.

Jordan’s lungs were burning. I haven’t sweated this much in a long time, he realized. He slowed to a trot as he approached Meek.

The astrobiologist looked awful: his face sheened
with perspiration, gasping for breath, his eyes haunted.

“Harmon,” Jordan puffed out as he came up to Meek. “What … why did you…”

Meek sank down onto the grass, his back sliding down the tree’s bark. Jordan dropped to his knees beside him, then leaned back into a sitting position.

“Are you … all right, Harmon?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“The aliens simply destroyed your virus, just like that.”
He snapped his fingers.

“That’s right.”

Meek shook his head.

“Don’t you see, Harmon? It’s like Thornberry said, by their fruits you shall know them. They’ve been nothing but helpful to us. They’re not scheming against us. They want to help us!”

“I know,” said Meek, so low that Jordan barely heard him.

“You do?”

“I’m not an idiot,” Meek said, his voice stronger. “I can see what’s going on.”

Jordan pulled out a tissue and mopped at his face. “Then you understand that they’re not a danger to us. That we—”

“They’re a danger to me. To me!”

“I don’t understand.”

Pulling up his long legs and dropping his head to his knees, Meek burst out, “Don’t you see? Don’t you understand?” He broke into racking sobs.

“Harmon, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“I’m an astrobiologist,” Meek choked out.
“I’ve traveled eight light-years to be the first astrobiologist to study an exoplanet’s biosphere.”

“Yes?”

“And what do we find? Human beings! A completely Earthlike biosphere. There’s nothing for me to do here! Longyear’s doing all the biology work. De Falla’s mapping the planet. And what do I have? Nothing! I’ve come all this way for nothing! When we get back to Earth I’ll be laughed at! Forgotten!
It’s all been for nothing.”

Great god in heaven, Jordan thought. So it comes down to this. His ego. His prissy monumental ego. But as he looked at the sobbing astrobiologist, Jordan thought, He’s disappointed. Crushed. To come all this way and find that your journey has been in vain. To sacrifice nearly two centuries over nothing. Who wouldn’t be crushed? Who wouldn’t be hurt and angered and
furious at the aliens who’ve made a mockery of your hopes?

As gently as he could, Jordan said, “Perhaps it hasn’t been for nothing, Harmon. Perhaps—”

Meek’s head snapped up. “Don’t patronize me, diplomat!”

Jordan smiled at him. “Why, yes, I’m a diplomat by training and experience. And perhaps I can see a way out of your dilemma. A way to make this mission worthwhile for you.”