The Quiet War, page 13
part #1 of The Quiet War Series
Vacuum organisms inhabited the borderland between machines and life: hives or self-organising swarms of various kinds of microscopic machines that behaved like cells in living organisms, making copies of themselves, changing their shape and metabolic repertoire according to simple rules programmed into giant self-replicating molecules analogous to DNA. They grew and multiplied in temperatures as low as –220° Celsius, forming structures that harmoniously complemented the stark moonscapes. The most common morphological types echoed the structure of lichens, from rugose or ridged scabs to filamentous tangles. A few elaborated delicate fans and fretworks, or flat fins rising in long rows from the adamantine ice, always orientated north to south to maximise the amount of light they could gather. And because insolation was low around Jupiter—just four percent of the average amount of light striking Earth's surface—every type of vacuum organism was a deep, light-absorbing black. Travelling in the rolligon along the raised road that cut through the fields of tan dust was like passing over a vast page of some ancient manuscript printed in the hieroglyphic script of a forgotten language.
Alder was fascinated by the robots that stalked along the rows of vacuum organisms, and by the fact that most of the farm workers were convicts serving rehabilitation terms. As he and Sri were shown around the laboratories where Avernus had worked in the early days of the Outer System, when creating vacuum organisms and improving the yields and varieties of the limited number of conventional food plants had made the difference between survival and failure, he asked all kinds of questions, shamelessly deploying his knack of acting much younger than he was, eager and charming and innocent as a puppy.
The laboratories were housed in low-roofed chambers with internal walls built of blocks of tan brick manufactured from compressed dust, their mortar courses blackened by age. Many of the rooms in the living quarters were empty—the convict labour force was housed in a new facility to the south—and most of the laboratories were as dark and empty as the living quarters, while the equipment in the rest was antiquated and clearly not much used. And despite the crisp linen, sparkling crystal and china, and fresh flowers on the tables, the commons where Sri and Alder and their hosts ate lunch seemed forlorn and derelict. It seemed that little research was done here these days.
Sri, who had first made her reputation by developing an artificial photosynthetic system that was almost five percent more efficient than any designed by Avernus, told her hosts about the vacuum organisms grown around the lunar city of Athena. “You could cultivate them here, if you rigged lights. Or use vacuum organisms that utilise electrochemical energy, as in the first strains. I have cut many variations on those. You can plug fields of them straight into an electricity supply and stand back and watch them grow. I'd have to splice adaptions to the much lower surface temperature, of course, but it isn't a problem. I bet I could increase productivity by an order of two magnitudes.”
One of the scientists who worked at the laboratory said that it was all very interesting, but they really had no need to increase efficiency. The population of Rainbow Bridge was stable, and conventional farms were currently overproducing foodstuffs.
Sri got blank, evasive looks when she asked what would happen if the population began to increase suddenly. If, say, there was a sudden rise in the rate of immigration.
“I don't think you can dismiss it so easily,” she said. “You have a lot of empty territory here. Millions of square kilometres. Many of the people on Earth who are squeezed into cities would jump at the chance to homestead.”
Her hosts politely expressed doubt that people from Earth would really want to come here, and pointed out that in any case it wasn't economically feasible. Sri retorted that most people had been confined to cities as the regreening of Earth progressed, and despite extensive anti-birth programmes the global population was still increasing because people were living longer. Sooner or later emigration was inevitable, and not just to the Moon, which could not support many people anyway, because of the lack of water. The new fusion motor meant that travel to the Outer System would be much easier, and in any case it wasn't very expensive, right now, to pack people into hibernation coffins and send them off in ordinary freighters.
She was trying to get a reaction from the Outers, but it was like prodding sea anemones. After the first couple of jabs they closed right up. Only Devon Pike, an ancient gene wizard who had some kind of honorary position at the laboratory, stood up to her.
He was a rail-thin but vigorous old man with a shock of white hair, a first-generation Outer who had worked in this facility with Avernus more than eighty years ago. From her homework, Sri knew that he had a small talent for patching traits from one species to another but showed little imagination. An able technician rather than a true artist.
“The fact is, madam, Rainbow Bridge is the oldest and largest settlement in the Outer System,” he said. “It was founded almost a century ago, and despite longevity treatments and the early period of forced population growth we are still a little under twenty thousand souls. We live within our means. We do not intend to repeat the mistakes of Earth, and considering that repairing the damage caused by overpopulation and the Overturn is now akin to a religion, I am surprised that you believe that we can survive what you, on Earth, very nearly did not.”
“Like it or not, the new fusion motor will change everything,” Sri said. “It will effectively shrink the distance between the systems of Jupiter and Saturn, and allow you to explore and exploit new territory. And it will also bring Earth and the Outer System together.”
“Then perhaps we'd be better off without it,” Devon Pike said.
“It exists, grandfather,” one of the young Outers said. “We can't unmake it.”
“It will put Neptune and Uranus in easy reach,” another said. “The Kuiper Belt too.”
“We have no need for expansion,” the old man said, and turned back to Sri. “You took the Moon from us. Also Mars, although you've done nothing with it since you slaughtered the Martians. Now you want to come out here and cause more mischief.”
“Mars was attacked by the Democratic Republic of China—a country that no longer exists,” Sri said. “It's ancient history. Times have changed. We acknowledge that on Earth every day, as we strive to undo the ecological crimes committed by our great-great-grandparents. And if I may be candid, I am amazed to find that there are people here who want to maintain the status quo simply because it suits them. You are against expansion. I suppose you are against the biome, too.”
“The biome is a mistake,” the old man said. “I have the greatest respect for Avernus. I do not doubt her generosity. But we don't need to be reminded of what we left behind. We have made new lives here.”
“New? When was the last time these laboratories produced a new strain of vacuum organism? Not some modification or minor improvement to an existing strain, but something entirely novel.”
“Well, I suppose you would have to ask the director…”
“I don't need to,” Sri said. “Your research programme is at best trivial. Hobbyist stuff. You had the advantage over us for a long time, sitting out here with your archives and genome libraries, but we are catching up now. We have the energy and spirit and vision that you have lost.”
Devon Pike spluttered out some reply, but Sri paid no attention to it. She felt a bright singing in her head. This wasn't propaganda. She had no time for propaganda. She really and truly believed it. At the neighbouring table, Alder was chattering away with a posse of younger scientists, handsome and slim in his red suit-liner. What a team they made, she thought fondly. Her hosts, of course, pretended to be politely amused by her forthright bluntness, and tried to steer the course of the conversation away from the reefs of controversy, but she cut through their babble.
“You achieved much, once upon a time. I admit it. You did more than survive. You created new ways of living. You kept scientific research alive. But you have lost the frontier spirit that drove you to do all those wonderful things. Societies as well as people become afraid of change as they grow older. It's human nature. The young have adventures while the old sit at home and nurture their memories. But the plain fact is that it is time to let go of the past. It is time to look ahead. This is supposed to be a democracy. Everyone has an equal say; anyone can put an issue to the vote. But for too long, Mr. Pike, your generation has had a disproportionate voice. If you don't believe me, ask your great-grandchildren.”
“They should not forget what was done to us by Earth,” Devon Pike said stubbornly. “What happened on the Moon, and Mars. Why we came here.”
Sri looked around, but apart from the old gene wizard none of the people—not even the young Outers—would meet her gaze.
“Perhaps Avernus has a better outlook on the future,” she said. “I look forward to finding out.”
Sri knew that she and Avernus had much to talk about. Her confidence was unassailable. She wasn't the most influential gene wizard on Earth, not yet, nor the most experienced, but she was certainly the best. It was only natural that Avernus would want to meet someone who might be her equal.
After the biome project had been finalised, Sri had done everything she could to reach out to Avernus. She had even sent to the gene wizard's only permanent home, in Paris, Dione, a signed hard copy, bound in her own vat-grown skin, of the research paper that had made her reputation. But so far there had been no response, no hint of contact. She'd been on Callisto for eight days now, and she still didn't know if Avernus would be present at the opening ceremony. Her hosts retreated into maddening vagueness whenever she asked them about it, which almost certainly meant that they didn't know either, but were too polite to admit it. Alder had made little progress either, and none of Sri's contacts in the Peixoto family and the Brazilian government back on Earth had any hard information about Avernus's plans or whereabouts. Even her sponsor, Oscar Finnegan Ramos, had drawn a blank.
“She has always been a shy and elusive creature,” he'd told Sri, in his last message. “Perhaps you know that I met her only once. A hundred years ago, it would be. Yes, just before the Overturn. It was a conference about metabolic pathway design in the first vacuum organisms. She led the research in that field, of course. She was years ahead of the rest of us. She'd been invited to give the speech at the plenary session, and right up to the last moment no one knew if she would turn up. I was going to take her place. And then, suddenly, a few hours before the speech was due, there she was, standing at the back of one of the open discussions. You can imagine the fuss. She was mobbed. As for her speech, well, I think it gave at least three people ideas that made their careers, and then she was gone. So don't worry, my dear. She will be there or she won't be there. You won't know until the day.”
Sri couldn't tell Oscar that there was a strong possibility that someone—Speller Twain, Loc Ifrahim, someone—might be planning to assassinate Avernus. That they might be planning to assassinate her. Not just because she didn't trust the encryption on the radio link and the Outers were almost certainly listening in, but because Euclides Peixoto was probably eavesdropping, too. Not to mention General Arvam Peixoto. She was surrounded by enemies. She could trust only Alder and her secretary, Yamil Cho.
Immediately after the visit to the vacuum organism farm she met with the construction crew for updates on their work, and then briefly talked with the young diplomat, Loc Ifrahim, who told her that he had learned something of great interest.
“Mr. Twain has been visiting the free zone in the city.”
Sri pretended that she didn't know anything about the free zone and let Loc Ifrahim describe it and its customs to her.
“There's a saying that what happens in the free zone stays in the free zone. But I have heard a rumour,” Loc Ifrahim said, “that he has been meeting with citizens who oppose the project and the whole idea of reconciliation. There are people, I am sure you know this, who would do anything to make sure that this project will fail.”
“Do you know who these citizens might be?”
“Alas, I don't. Not yet. But I do know that Ursula Freye visited the free zone several times before she was murdered. There is a connection, ma’am. I am sure of it. I will continue my inquiries, and you can rest assured that if I discover anything I will tell you without delay.”
“He wants me to think that Speller Twain is plotting against me,” Sri told Alder a little later.
“How do you know he isn't telling the truth? After all, Speller Twain definitely killed Ursula Freye.”
They were lying side by side in the blister. Alder was spooning up the curdy flesh of a custard apple.
“Do you remember the peace officers I talked to?”
“Of course.”
“The city government told them to abandon their investigation into Ursula Freye's death because it was politically sensitive. They weren't happy about that, and were very interested when I told them that Loc Ifrahim had offered me Speller Twain's head on a plate. They think as we do. That Speller Twain and Loc Ifrahim were both involved in Ms. Freye's death, and that Loc Ifrahim is using Speller Twain to divert attention so that he will be free to make his own move.”
“But how can they help us if they have been ordered to abandon the investigation?”
“Like every kind of police, they are prone to bending the law when it suits them. They have been keeping a discreet watch on both Speller Twain and Loc Ifrahim. That's why I knew that Speller Twain has been visiting the free zone before Mr. Ifrahim told me about it. I even know what he's doing there. It has nothing to do with any kind of plotting. He is visiting a club where people have old-fashioned straight sex while wearing masks and robes.”
“Perhaps the sex is a cover.”
“There is no doubt that Speller Twain killed Ursula Freye. Perhaps he was ordered to do it by Euclides Peixoto. Perhaps Loc Ifrahim persuaded him to do it. Perhaps it was his own idea. But the peace officers are convinced that it had nothing to do with any faction in the city.”
Alder popped a spoonful of seeds and pulp into his mouth and said, “I think I know why you don't want to make a preemptive strike against Mr. Twain.”
Sri smiled. “You do?”
“You want one or both of them to make an attempt on Avernus's life. You save her, and she is grateful…”
“And she teaches me everything she knows? It's a pretty fantasy. But I'm afraid that's all it is—a fantasy. Something from one of your sagas.”
Alder put on a sulky look, half-lowering his eyelids, pouting. It made him seem even more delectable. “Why don't you stop teasing me and tell me what you are planning? I know you aren't simply going to wait and see what happens.”
“As a matter of fact, that's just what I'm going to do.”
“So I don't have to worry,” Alder said. “You have made arrangements to deal with everything. You don't need my help.”
“Don't be silly. Why would I have brought you all the way out here if I didn't need your help, your special talents? Making friends, for instance. I'm good at upsetting or intimidating people, but as for being friendly…for that, I need you.”
“Well, you made me the way I am.”
“Tell me what you were talking about at lunch today. You seem to have made some friends amongst the younger scientists at the farm.”
“Oh, it wasn't much,” Alder said. “Except for one thing, perhaps. Although, compared to your plans, it won't seem very exciting.”
Sri knew that he was aching to tell her what he had discovered, but had to tickle him and kiss him before he gave in, telling her that several of the young scientists working at the research farm had invited him to visit a little grotto that had been the prototype for several of Avernus's later projects.
“What kind of grotto?”
“Just a little crevasse,” Alder said. “With vacuum organisms growing in it. It's old, though. Avernus made it when she was working on that farm, eighty years ago or more.”
“What kind of vacuum organisms?”
Alder shrugged.
“Why don't I know about this?”
“It was discovered by some of my new friends two years ago. They've kept it secret ever since.” Alder explained that fourth-generation citizens of Rainbow Bridge liked to go hiking and camping in what they called the back country. “They stay out for up to a week, travelling on foot for several hundred kilometres. They say that you can't understand the land unless you walk it. It sounds like silly mysticism, I know, but they are very serious about it.”
“They spend all this time out there in their pressure suits?”
“They hike between shelters and oases. It's something they have been doing for more than ten years now. There are different tribes with different totems, and they follow different paths. At least, I think that's how it works. Burton spent a very long time explaining it to me, but most of it sounded like gibberish.”
“Burton is one of the people who wants to take you to this grotto.”
Alder nodded. “It isn't far from the research farm. A hundred kilometres or so.”
“And Burton and his friends—”
“Her friends.”
“They want you to walk a hundred kilometres.”
“I've hiked further on the Moon.”
“With Yamil Cho, and with a caravan of rolligons following you. Perhaps Yamil should go with you.”
“I don't think my friends would like that,” Alder said. “This is one of their secret, special places. They want to share it with me now because I'm their new best friend. And really, it isn't as risky as it sounds. If they get into trouble they can call up a gig.”
His look was one of mute appeal. He'd set a treasure at her feet and wanted to be praised and rewarded. After a moment's thought, Sri decided to give in. It was time that she gave him some of the responsibility he craved. It would show him that she trusted him, and then there was the grotto itself, almost certainly one of Avernus's creations, full of who knew what secrets…
