Tau Ceti - The Phage
Page 15
Terrance cocked his head, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he eyed the pattern. “That looks like an HVAC distribution. Is that possible?” He quirked an eyebrow at Shannon and Jonesy, but it was Logan who responded.
“They will tell you that it shouldn’t be possible, since controlled nano clouds are not a thing. As improbable as it seems, however,” the profiler stated, sweeping a glance across the team, “it is the simplest and most direct explanation. I believe we should consider that someone in Tau Ceti has created such a form factor.”
Calista pointed up at the display. “Some of those infestations you showed earlier aren’t there any longer. Have they solved the problem?”
Logan shook his head. “Inconclusive and highly doubtful.”
“If we had to guess,” and here, Shannon shot a pointed look at Logan, daring him to counter her, “they’ve found a way to isolate pockets of the nano. They probably rewrote the code and then replaced it, back where the infected nano was originally harvested.”
“Here’s the hitch in their plans,” Jonesy joined in. “Each time they shut down a pocket of bad code, another one springs up, often kilometers away. And they’re beyond the local quarantine the government finally imposed on the spaceport.”
“The government’s been downplaying it on the news nets,” Landon chimed in from where he sat next to his brother. “Probably concerned about inciting panic among the general populace.” He tilted his head at the holo as he updated the display with news coverage Kodi had located. “Problem is, you can’t keep this kind of thing under wraps for very long. The program Kodi left running while you were in stasis pulled any report that triggered with the keyword ‘nanophage’. They’ve been pouring in steadily for weeks. The nets are showing protests being staged, with some blaming the outbreak on everything from government conspiracy to experimentation gone awry.”
Kodi added.
Landon snorted. “And of course, you’ve got your opportunistic entrepreneurs selling nano-resistant, whole-body filters ‘guaranteed to prevent the accidental inhalation, ingestion or absorption of nano’,” he said with a shake of his head.
“So what you’re saying is that, right now, Tau Ceti is one big shit-show, and we’re flying right into it,” Jason stated flatly, flicking the last few crystals of salt off the rim of his empty glass.
“You know,” Marta said thoughtfully, stepping from the galley where she’d gone to retrieve the platter of sopapillas and pralines, “I’m surprised Ring Galene’s Center for Disease Control hasn’t issued some sort of system-wide disease protocol.”
Shannon’s avatar turned a surprised look toward the doctor, as she sat and began to pass the platter around. “But it’s not a medical situation….”
“Why the CDC, though?” Terrance prompted, his eyes narrowing in thought as he tried to follow her reasoning.
“Well, technically, Shannon’s right,” Marta admitted from around the bite of soft fried dough she’d just eaten. “It’s not really medical per se, but medical quarantine would allow them to isolate the infected. I imagine they’ll use cryo stasis to do that.”
Shannon snorted. “They’re going to need a lot of cryo if they don’t get things under control soon.”
Terrance hmmed as he snagged two sopapillas from the plate before handing the plate over to Jason. “Something tells me that our new stasis tech might be something they’ll be eager to get their hands on.”
“So what does that mean for the Avon Vale once we arrive?” Jonesy inquired. ”Do we dock at the ring? Maintain our distance?”
“Well, we could just set up operations at one of the stations in outer Tau Ceti,” Terrance said after a moment’s consideration. “But I’d like to give this situation time to resolve itself. This information is a month old, and we’re six months away from arrival. A lot can happen in the course of seven months.” He glanced at Logan, brow raised.
The profiler nodded once. “Agreed. Too early yet to make a call.”
* * * * *
An hour later, Terrance found himself sitting in his office across from Logan, going over the summary the AI had created that recapped the information they’d reviewed earlier. The profiler shifted in his seat, glancing over his shoulder as an electronic knock sounded on the frame of the open door. Terrance looked up to see one of the Proxan AI passengers, a tailor by trade, standing in the entrance. His grandmother would have called Ray a bit of a dandy, for he was always dressed impeccably in a fine suit.
Kodi had pulled the AI’s identification for Terrance earlier that day, when he’d asked if the non-organic passengers had a representative he could speak to about the situation.
Over the course of their long journey, he’d come to appreciate the deft hand behind the AI’s unique blend of creativity. The small boutique Ray had opened along one of the promenades in the habitat ring did a fair amount of business among the ship’s passengers and crew. The suit he wore today was one of his own design; woven in a herringbone pattern, the lines appeared made of completely different materials and textures depending on which direction you looked at it from.
From one angle, it appeared made entirely of soft, glittery metals, utterly synthetic. Viewed from another, it seemed woven of all natural fibers and organic textures. The combination should have come across as garish or jarring—yet somehow, it worked, forming a pleasing juxtaposition, a harmony in discord.
“Hello, Ray,” Terrance greeted as he rose from his place behind the desk and gestured the AI toward the unoccupied chair in front of it. “Please, have a seat.”
Ray smiled at Terrance and nodded at Logan, as the profiler swiveled to regard him as he approached.
“You wanted to see me?” Ray queried as he settled into the chair's cushioned depths and twitched the seam of his jacket, then ran his hand down its front, so that it lay smooth.
“We did,” Terrance confirmed. He paused—just the briefest of hesitations, but it was enough to cause Ray to raise his head and shoot Logan a sharp, inquisitive look as he sat up a bit straighter in his seat.
“Is there a problem I should know about?” asked the tailor, his tone one of concern.
Terrance drew in a breath. “I know the documents of transfer were filed for every colonist at the beginning of the Avon Vale's journey,” he began, “and the offices of immigration on both Eione and Ring Galene accepted your applications.”
Ray nodded; this was not news.
“But the situation in the Tau Ceti system has shifted just a bit, and we wanted to give your group fair warning.” Terrance shifted his glance to Logan, cocking an eyebrow in invitation for the profiler to take the conversational lead.
“There has been an outbreak of uncontrollable nano reported on Ring Galene,” Logan stated without preamble.
Ray blinked, his gaze shifting from Logan back to Terrance as the profiler sent the tailor a copy of the synopsis.
After a moment of scanning, Ray commented somberly, “That's deeply concerning. Any more news on whether or not they’ve managed to contain it?”
Terrance lifted a hand, waggling it a bit. “Yes and no. It's contained to the ring itself. The communication bands we're monitoring have said nothing about it spreading to Eione, Eudora, or any of the habitats within the system.”
Ray nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “Are you recommending we abandon our goal to emigrate to Tau Ceti?”
Terrance was startled at the thought. “No, not at all, that’s completely up to you. You’re welcome to remain on the
Avon Vale while we wait to see how things shake out.”
Ray nodded. “Thank you for keeping us apprised, sir. I’ll let the rest know.”
* * * * *
Landon was standing watch on the bridge as XO of second shift, when the door to Terrance’s office slid open, and Ray departed. The twin could just make out his brother’s frame, sitting across the desk from the exec, before the door slid shut once more.
He knew that Terrance and Logan had called Ray up to discuss the news feeds; it was all anyone was thinking about at the moment. As far as Landon was concerned, the events unfolding in Tau Ceti had the earmarks of a situation ready to spiral out of control. His mind insisted on worrying at the problem, and he considered and discarded various ways they could use the next six months to prepare for the worst.
“Jonesy,” he murmured as he stopped next to the nav console that the engineer was manning for this shift.
As the man looked up, Landon leaned across to access an icon on the display’s holo. Pulling up the ship’s manifest, he scrolled through its list of stores in the manufactory, as well as the list of artillery in the ship’s armory.
Landon knew he could have manipulated the display without the need for his frame to tangibly interface with it, but he’d become fond of the physical interaction, and found that it often provided him with an opportunity to mull over the material one last time before referring to it.
If Jonesy found his tendencies odd, he never said so. At the moment, the human was tilting his head from the display up to Landon, the expression on his face one of puzzlement.
“Sir?” he began, letting the unspoken question dangle between them.
Landon gestured to the display, highlighting their supply of MFRs, as well as the stockpile of small-yield, tactical nuclear warheads he’d ordered delivered before they left Proxima.
“If I understand correctly, we could use our MFRs to generate a magnetic field, yes?”
“Sure,” the engineer said, and Landon could hear in Jonesy’s voice that the engineer thought he knew where Landon was headed with this line of questioning.
“If you were to take these small nuclear devices and pair them with some of our MFRs…could you come up with something that would generate a controlled, encapsulated EM pulse?”
Jonesy turned back to the holo, his gaze thoughtful. He flipped through the ship’s manifest, looking over the raw materials they had available for such a task. After a moment, he nodded.
Rearranging a few items, he highlighted a portion of the list. “I think I could create a decent-sized arsenal of small, three-megaton devices before we arrive. If we enclosed them in a small, MFR-generated magnetic field, that would work. They’ll only generate a noteworthy electromagnetic pulse in atmosphere, though,” he cautioned. “If you think we’re going to need to generate an EMP out in space, I’d need to install some in-line lasers to generate Faraday rotation and induce a stronger EM field that I can pulse.”
He shot Landon an apologetic look, and the AI realized what the engineer was implying.
“The only ones we have that would be strong enough are ship-mounted, aren’t they?” the AI asked.
Jonesy nodded. “I could pull one or two of the point defense lasers to polarize the field and give it a boost once we’re insystem….” His voice drifted off as he left the question hanging.
Landon paused, considering, and then nodded decisively. “Do it,” he said, and sent Jonesy the token to release everything he’d need from the ship’s stores on Landon’s authority. “I’d rather be over-prepared than end up being surprised by a situation we hadn’t anticipated.”
As Jonesy nodded, Landon resumed his slow circuit of the bridge’s stations, and the words he had not said reverberated in his head.
This time, I’m going to make damn sure we are prepared….
UNDER RINGLIGHT
STELLAR DATE: 05.11.3246 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Daisen Valley Region
REGION: Ring Galene, Tau Ceti
Two months later….
Khela stared down at the shadowed countryside from her position behind a nearby barn. It was dark here; at least as dark as any place on the ring could be. They were still a few hours away from second sunrise, and the planet above gave off a soft, blue-green glow, consigning nighttime on the ring to a perpetual twilight. Added to the nascent dusk was a glittering ribbon of light that curved behind the glowing orb. The double shadows it cast painted the terrain with a surreal, fantastical texture.
Khela’s fourteen-person Marine Special Operations Team viewed the disorientation the shadows cast as a tactical advantage. They were here tonight chasing a report that nano-infected humans had been sighted.
That they were here at all, a team of paired soldiers, human and AI, was testament to the fact that the government had, so far, exempted the military from the ban on human/AI pairings.
The uncontrolled assembly nano had spread—as the Surgeon General had warned Planetary Security it would—far beyond the local quarantine the government had imposed upon the spaceport. Galene’s Center for Disease Control had mandated that any infected individual be detained, placed in cryo stasis, and transported to the planet for isolation.
Khela’s superiors had told her the government was in hot debate over whether or not to consider this an act of terrorism. No one had yet claimed responsibility for the nanophage, as it was now being called. That meant that if it was terrorism, it was being waged as a silent war of attrition.
That tactic might work, Khela admitted. Especially if those in power are too busy debating to take decisive action—which, so far, has proven to be the case.
Her own father had relocated planetside to try to come up with a cure for the phage, a move he told her he was convinced was the only way to resolve the crisis. She’d been startled to learn that the AIs she and Hana had met all those years ago had been secretly working with her father to create a last bastion of protection to guard against such a calamity. Bette and Charley had assured her that they would do everything in their power to find a quick resolution to the crisis.
As team leader, it was Khela’s responsibility to ensure the successful completion of tonight’s mission. They were to apprehend a small gang of infected humans who had gone on a killing rampage in a nearby town.
she sent as she cycled her augmented vision to scan the full EM spectrum, her expression grim.
Hana’s mental voice was edged with anger.
Khela winced and sent a wordless apology. Her words had been thoughtless, insensitive. Both of the town’s victims had been AIs, individuals whose only crime had been to hide themselves away rather than submit to the mandatory evacuation of their kind—certainly not a transgression worthy of murder.
Khela sent Hana a resigned nod as she reached out over the combat net to check on the location of her team, moving to encircle the small valley where the tangoes had holed up.
This would have been much easier to do a few weeks ago, Khela thought grimly as she sent a baleful glance toward a nonfunctioning piece of equipment partially hidden under a clump of bushes, where it had been violently thrown by Anders, her communications specialist.
The man had unpacked the unit, only to fling it suddenly away with an exclamation of horror when he’d spied the crystalline nanogrowth blooming from the surface of its display. Even if the thing still functioned, it was useless now; no one would go near it. And for good reason. In the past week, Khela had sent three of her soldiers to Army Medical
when they began to show signs of infection.
People all over the ring were opting for lower-tech solutions in lieu of nano—both within their bodies and without. It was just safer that way. That meant her team was functioning with less data at their fingertips than usual. Not that they weren’t capable of operating that way…. It was just maddening to know they were denied those tools.
No one calls it a ‘system malfunction’ anymore, she realized, recalling the government’s initial attempt at information management, fearing widespread panic. Not since the outbreak became so pervasive. Plus, it keeps mutating!
She forced her wandering thoughts into some semblance of order; it had shaken everyone to see the phage so close-up this evening.
She heard nothing from Montoya.
A garbled transmission came by way of response.
The reply sounded like Montoya, so she could only assume that his Link was somehow being affected.
Every fire team in the military had taken to traveling with cryo lately—just in case.