In answer to a soft knock on the door, Caine said. “Come in.”
Ben Hwang entered, nodding at the two of them. “Good to see you awake, Caine. How are you feeling?”
“Just a little stiff, Ben. Thanks for asking. Draw up a chair?”
“Thank you, but no; I have to get back to the lab. Just wanted to see how you were doing and pass a report on to Mr. Downing. And ask him a question.”
Richard nodded. “What’s the question, Ben?”
Hwang scratched the back of his head. “Richard, is it true that we have some new visitors in-system?”
My, news travels fast. “Yes, Ben. A Slaasriithii ship showed up about two hours ago. The Dornaani seemed to be expecting it, and have vouched for its bona fides.”
“Any guess why they decided to enter a war zone? I was under the impression that the Slaasriithii are pretty retiring. They were certainly the least communicative species at the Convocation.”
Downing shrugged. “I was just as surprised at you, but the Dornaani speculate that with the hostilities winding down, they want to be on hand for whatever happens here, possibly initiate some kind of formal contact with us.”
Hwang nodded. “Any chance we’re going to get a look at one, arrange a meeting? It would be a good opportunity to get some samples of their—”
Downing smiled. “I’ll let you know as soon as I learn anything relevant, Ben. Besides, I would think you have enough exobiology challenges on your hands already.” Richard felt his smile slip. “About which, how’s the reconstruction coming?”
Hwang avoided Downing’s eyes. “Completed. We have reverse-engineered the original Arat Kur virus that they adopted for their suicide cysts.”
“Well done. What was involved?”
“The tricky work was all up front. In order to understand the virus, we had to map the Arat Kur genetic structures. Like human smallpox, the virus mimics natural cells present in the Arat Kur body—the circulatory system, to be specific. The virus has almost exactly the same genetic template as normal Arat Kur cells, so the body’s defenses don’t recognize it as an intruder and the immune system’s hunter-killer cells don’t activate.”
“How had the Arat Kur modified the original organism?”
“To make it useful as a suicide device, the Arat Kur simply turned off its ability to produce viable airborne infectants and slowed its reproductive process.”
Downing’s voice was very quiet. “And its broader weapons potential?”
Hwang studied the floor. “The original virus was one of the most contagious and lethal of all their plague bugs. As such, it was the first they sought to eliminate, which they accomplished almost a thousand years ago. Consequently, almost no modern Arat Kur have any immunities against it, and they have long since ceased retaining any extensive ready supplies of, or production facilities for, the vaccine they developed over eight hundred years ago.”
Downing kept his voice level. “Total estimated effect on an infected population?”
“Ninety percent fatalities.” Hwang rose, looking glum. “I’ll have warhead-volume stocks of the Arat Kur virus within a day, maybe two.” Hwang opened the door, nodded. Caine nodded back.
Richard spoke soon as the door had closed after Hwang. “Actually, while we’re on the topic of the Arat Kur, I’m rather hoping you’ll help us by trying to talk to one today.”
“Darzhee Kut?”
Downing looked down. “The debriefing team feels that it has run out of options. Permissible options, that is.”
Caine was on his feet quickly. “Why? Won’t he talk to anyone else?”
“Not productively. And I think it’s important you try to communicate with him before the debriefing team convinces Visser or Sukhinin to allow them to use—well, impermissible options.”
Caine left the room in a rush.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Darzhee Kut heard the cycles of sound in his head repeat, welcomed the familiar cadences and tones, told himself he was glad there was nothing to distract his attention from the mostly random waves of submusic that washed over and through his mind.
A strange thumping rang against the room’s hatch. At first, Darzhee Kut thought the ship might be in distress, that the sound was the precursor to disabling or destruction. But no: it was just a modest, steady thumping.
And then he realized that it must be a person, requesting entrance, “knocking” on the door. Darzhee Kut roused out of his trancelike stare into the room’s far corner. For many days, he had not heard a knock on a door. When his questioners entered, they gave no warning. They determined when he slept, when he ate, when he was allowed to speak, when not. They arrived at different times, in different numbers, with different questions. And they never, ever, addressed him by name or title, although they often left one of their number behind. He was rarely allowed to be alone. Whether that was out of consideration for his species’ monophobia or to prevent him from doing harm to himself was unclear.
But a knock on the door. One would not knock unless one was intrinsically conferring the right of choice to the person on the other side of the door, whether to admit the visitor or not. And that meant it was not improbable that, at last, he was being visited by—
He chittered a permission to enter. Caine Riordan appeared through the opening hatch. “Darzhee Kut,” the human said. It sounded more like a question than a greeting.
“Caine Riordan.”
“I am glad to see that you are well.”
“What you see is that I am alive. ‘Well’ is a more relative term.”
Riordan came closer. “Did they—the debriefing team—mistreat you in any way. Any way?”
“No,” Darzhee had to admit, “they did not. But I had hoped I might be able to tell you so earlier.”
Riordan looked away. “I was not able to come before now. My injuries were—severe.”
Darzhee felt his eye-lenses constrict in concern. “But you are well now, Caine Riordan?”
The human smiled. “As you observed, ‘well’ is a relative term. I am recovering.”
“I am glad to hear it. I would be interested to hear of other things, as well. Specifically, there are questions I have pondered these long months, for which I have been unable to deduce answers.”
“Questions such as… ?”
“Such as how, only a few weeks after the Convocation, Earth already had a complex sequence of deceptions ready for us, and how it was already prepared to wage war?”
The human leaned his back—carefully—against the wall. “I can’t share all the details with you, but for quite some time, influential persons had realized that it was very likely that we would encounter exosapients and that we might quickly find ourselves at war with them. So, starting about five years ago, serious war preparation began, mostly under the cover of other activities. Antimatter production was increased to ensure extensive operating surpluses. There was a major influx of discretionary funds funneled surreptitiously into the construction of new classes of capital ships, stockpiles of nuke-pumped X-ray laser drones, a new generation of control sloops, defense ships cored out of asteroids, massive cislunar drone inventories, expansion of commando units with zero-gee training, cutting-edge vertibirds and interceptors. It was necessary to establish many of these industries outside our home system. In particular, we developed a great deal of dirtside and spaceside industry in Delta Pavonis, using the system-wide quarantine that was in place from 2118 onward as an intelligence blackout curtain behind which we could conceal these activities.”