as well as, we are told, continuing provocative allegations about cooperation—yes, I know this is hard to believe—between the Chinese and some elements of the Swarmers
He sent a query to their flat, but it answered that no one was home. He kept moving. If she was not at the meeting, then—Of course.
and since the newest information on this biological transformation of the enemy may tie into or provide a clue about their planetary origins, I think we should move immediately to review this data in the light of
He approached the medical complex quietly, carefully. He found Nikka arguing with an administrator. He waited until she looked around in exasperation, caught her eye, and signaled for silence. She said nothing until they were out of sight of the big med center archway.
“I came to get you! What took you so long? Ted has called a—”
“I know.” He explained in rapid, clipped sentences, feeling a sure anger come welling up. “And there’s no point in barging in there now. That lot won’t give me a hearing.”
“You’ve got to.”
“Ted hasn’t the power of a captain, but the consensus is clearly with him. And consensus, luv, is everything.”
“In a free discussion—”
“Right you are. But getting it free, there’s the rub. Ol’ Ted’s been quite pissed at me for some time, I gather. He’s a very smart man.”
“He is unprincipled, short—”
“Has it occurred to you that all I’m resisting is a soft ride home?”
“It’s more than that. This is, well, your life.”
“Was.”
“It still can be.”
“Hard to see how to beat him.” He took her head in his hands and kissed her on the forehead with a wan, distant affection. He felt strange energies building in him, a resolve he had thought lost.
“We can go home, refuse to let them in. Request time on the group net to discuss your case.”
“There’s plenty of evidence for Ted’s position.”
“Empty facts.”
He sagged against a bulkhead. Under pressure he had been dealing adequately with the inverted vision, but the strain was beginning to tell. Turning his head rapidly brought on nausea. Upside down, people’s expressions were alarming, grotesque, usually impossible to decipher.
“Y’know, I am rather a bastard. Surely it’s not escaped your notice.”
Nikka grinned and looked determined. “They don’t—”
“Wait,” Nigel held up a palm. “Listen. Shipcomm.”
—I’ve just been handed an emergency signal from Earthside. I’ll read it: “Nuclear weapons were used today in a military confrontation off the coast of China. The combatants are China, the USSR and USA, as well as smaller fleet forces of Japan and Brazil. Damage is unknown. Satellite recons shows the engagement is continuing and spreading, with apparently all major forces engaged. Cause is unknown. May have been triggered by attempt to inhibit Swarmer landings on sea coasts. Will advise shortly on possible implications for space communications net.” Well, I don’t know what to say—
Nigel smacked his fist against the bulkhead. “That’s it.”
“Wh-what?”
“They’ve bitten into the apple. Not much good our information’ll do ’em now.”
“This, this may be a mistake—”
“No mistake. All quite predictable, I expect. If any of us had been half swift …” He sighed.
“Well …” She blinked, confused. “Let’s, let’s go home. We can forget about our problems …”
He nodded grimly, putting his arms on her shoulders, peering into her lined, coppery face. “But don’t you see? That message is years old! We can’t influence events there. We’re on our own.”
“Well, yes, but …”
“Whatever happens, ol’ friend Ted will still carry out his precious policy. So we might as well do as we like, too. Earth’s another issue.”
“I, I don’t know … everything’s … so fast.”
“Look, it’ll be awhile before we learn more from Earth. The big satellite transmitters have got other things to do than beam to us.”
“Yes, I suppose …”
“So Ted’s going to go on with business. And so should we.”
“Let’s go home.”
“Right. For a bit. But there’s really only one place left for us now, luv.”
Nine
They crouched together in the freight elevator, hemmed in by crates.
“Are you all right? Your eyes?” Nikka asked.
“I think I’m integrating the change. Resting helped.”
“I’ve heard something about that medtech error. It’s a common one, easy to make.”
Nigel chuckled. “Gratifying to know.”
“I don’t think I can fix it.”
“Not without microsurgery tools, no.”
“I remember that the brain adjusts, though. Eventually you’ll see upright images.”
“How long?”
“A few days.”
“Um. I say, it seems that long since I went merrily off with smiling Ted. How long was I gone?”
“Half a day,” Nikka said. “They came and told me. I argued with Ted but he was busy. Carlos was there.”
“What was his reaction?”
“Sad. He went down to Pucks on the morning shuttle, just after you left. Reporting for his new job. A chance to put his training into action. I think he wants to—”
“Wash his hands of it all. Quite so. There’s still you, waiting here, after he’s done.”
“Nigel, that’s not fair.”
“Who said I was fair? Carlos is confused, but he’s not dumb.”
“Can’t we forget that? With all that’s happening—”
“No, we can’t. Might have to use it.” He slapped the portable medfilter resting between them. The elevator whine reverberated in the sheet-metal floor. It had taken over an hour for Nikka to strip Nigel’s jury-rigged device down to essentials, and then wedge it into a carrying case. Their apartment was no longer a candidate for House Beautiful.
He hoped the filter would still work. It was touch and go getting out of the apartment, too—Ted hadn’t put guards on their door, but Nigel was sure someone would lay hand on him if he showed his face in public.
“You’re going to have to keep the dockmen busy while I get this on,” he said.
She nodded. “Our chances aren’t good.”
“So what? Haven’t any choices left. Ted will nab us in hours if we stay.”
The elevator groaned to a stop in near-zero gravity. The door lurched open, revealing the aft ship’s lock. No one in view.
“I’ll nip across,” Nigel said. He slipped into the darkness of the shuttle’s hold. Nikka drew a deep breath and went in search of the crew.
Pocks was gunmetal gray. Long white filaments stretched across it, rays of debris from ancient meteors. Crusts of rock blotched the dirty purple ice fields.
Nigel could feel the chill through his servo’d suit. He moved carefully across the crumpled plain. Nikka pointed to the spherical submarine berthed at the edge of an orange-green lake. “That’s where the log says Carlos is on duty.”
Nigel picked up the pace. Between them they carried the portable medfilter.
They began to puff with the effort. Boots crunched on the purple ice. Nigel stepped up his opticals to see what the surface looked like unaugmented. It was barren, lit by an angry red dot. High up he caught the gliding gray smudge of the Watcher. The Lancer analysis net had stopped calling the moonlet by that name, but he refused to. Was there a shifting glimmer where the weak sun struck the ancient hull? He blinked. Perhaps a facet catching the light. Or more probably, he reminded himself, a trick of his eyes. He was catching, seeing better, but there were still illusions, distortions.