And some were along the lines of the reply from Inspector Toyis of the Special Ganymede Bureau of Investigation. “We regret that we are unable to respond to your request at this time. Your request for action has been forwarded to our head office, where it will receive full consideration. You will be notified when our head office has reached a decision. If you are no longer in Sol Star System at that time, our head office will not attempt to forward its decision but will maintain it on file for ten standard solar years. When inquiring about the status of your request, reference Standard Application For Assistance, Forwarding And Consideration Form 15667 Revision Twenty Five, Serial 3476980-554-3651.”
Desjani stared at her display after that message ended, looking as if she didn’t know whether to laugh or be angry. “Admiral, after we finish with the kidnappers, is it all right if we destroy the head office of the Special Ganymede Bureau of Investigation?”
“I’m tempted, but no,” Geary said. “Permission to destroy their head office will probably require some sort of special form, and we can’t hang around waiting for their reply to our application to annihilate them.”
“They probably do have a form for that,” Desjani agreed, then indicated three ships weaving orbits about another moon of Jupiter. “Did you see the reply from these guys?” She tapped a control.
Geary saw a lean, hawk-faced man’s image appear before him. “This is Commander Nkosi of the Special Quarantine Enforcement Division. We are in receipt of your request but are unable to assist. Our orders require us to maintain positions enforcing the quarantine of Europa. No exceptions are authorized. If the criminal craft comes close to one of my ships, we will act if we can do so without leaving our assigned region.”
“Europa quarantine duty?” Geary asked. “I can see why they aren’t allowed to leave their posts.”
“No,” Desjani agreed. “I’ll give those guys a pass for not being able to help. Can you imagine having to spend weeks and months orbiting Europa? Looking down at those old cities and installations filled with nothing but the dead?”
“I wouldn’t enjoy it.” He gazed at the depiction of Europa on the display. “It’s so bright. Covered with ice sheets. I remember when in school they showed us the vids from Europa, I was struck by how bright the moon looked. It seemed impossible that it was contaminated by a bioengineered plague that had wiped out every human on that moon.”
“He altered course,” Desjani said, pointing to her display, where the stealth craft’s projected track had swung slightly. “Just a small adjustment. He doesn’t realize yet that we’re tracking him.”
Over the next half hour, it became apparent that enough vessels near Jupiter were moving on intercepts from enough different angles that the stealth craft was boxed in. Its only path for escape would have been back toward Sol, but Dauntless was coming on relentlessly from that direction. And, by now, whoever was on that stealth craft must have seen all those ship movements and realized what they meant.
Rione had come onto the bridge, taking the observer’s seat at the back and peering at the display there. “Am I right that it is merely a question now of which ship that stealth craft surrenders to?”
“You’re correct,” Geary said.
“I came up here to tell you that the ransom demands had been received, but those demands appear to have been overtaken by events.”
“What did they want in exchange for our officers?” Geary asked.
“Technical specs and equipment,” Rione said, intent on her display as if watching a movie play out. “All stealth-related. They want our state-of-the-art. Which they would then sell to everyone with enough to offer in exchange.”
He didn’t answer, feeling a tight sensation inside at the realization that he could not have agreed to that. If they hadn’t been able to intercept that craft, he would have been faced with a very ugly decision.
Tanya must have realized the same thing. She didn’t look toward him as she spoke in a low voice. “They would have understood that you couldn’t agree to that. We all would have understood.”
“Do you think that would allow me to ever forgive myself?” he asked.
“No. But it’s the only comfort I would have had to offer. Thank the living stars—” Her voice broke off and she sat straighter, eyes intent. “What’s he doing?”
Geary focused more closely on his own display as he saw the stealth craft, within minutes of being intercepted by some of its pursuers, suddenly veer onto a different vector and accelerate. “He’s heading for the only opening that’s left.” He wondered if his voice reflected the horror he was feeling.
“That’s not an opening!” Desjani protested. “He’s heading into Europa’s atmosphere!”
“Why was that opening left for him?” Rione demanded in shocked tones.
“Because no one in their right mind would go that way!” Geary answered. “Get the word out to all of the other ships,” he ordered the bridge crew. “Tell them what that craft’s new vector is.”
They were close enough now that it took only a few minutes for the updated information to reach all of the pursuing ships, but those critical few minutes made all the difference. The quarantine-enforcement ships had been caught flat-footed as well by the sudden maneuver and were now twisting about frantically to reach the stealth craft.
But only Dauntless had a solid track on the stealth craft, and Dauntless was still too far away. As the nearest ships fumbled for attempted intercepts, the stealth craft penetrated Europa’s atmosphere.
“He’s braking,” Desjani said. “He’s braking hard. Ancestors save us. He’s going to land.”
As they watched helplessly, the stealth craft came in to a gentle landing on the riven ice sheets that covered forbidden, dead Europa.
For one of the few times that Geary had known her, Victoria Rione had shed all pretense and feigned indifference. She was staring aghast at her own display as she called across the silence filling the bridge. “What can you do? Admiral, what can you do?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “If there is anything we can do, I’ll find it.”
• • •
DAUNTLESS had settled into orbit about Jupiter, close to and matching the motion of Europa. About a dozen other ships were matching her orbit, waiting to see what the Alliance battle cruiser would do. The stealth craft sat silently on the surface of Europa, not broadcasting any demands but able to be spotted by every ship now that it was resting on the ice.
Geary sat in his stateroom with three other people: Tanya and Victoria Rione, who had managed to take up positions as far as possible from each other, and Dr. Nasr. “Doctor, do you know anything about the bug that wiped out life on Europa?”
Dr. Nasr nodded, his mouth twitching with distaste. “I know enough. It is a bacterium, genetically modified from an original form which caused no ill effects and is indeed beneficial to the human body.”
“Is?” Rione asked. “You’re certain that it’s still there? Still viable?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t they use something lethal?” Geary asked. “As long as they were making a bioweapon, why not start with something that was already bad?”
“Because,” Nasr explained in a quiet voice, “they wanted to ensure that the bacteria did not trigger bioalert sensors. By using something originally innocuous, they hoped they would slip unnoticed past any defenses.” He closed his eyes as if trying to block the sight of visions of the past. “In this, they were extremely successful. Their own biodefenses did not spot or give an alert on the bacteria when they escaped their control.”
Desjani made an angry noise deep in her throat. “They were clever enough to make something that deadly but too stupid to program their own defenses to spot it?”
“I am guessing,” Dr. Nasr replied, “from my own experience, that the creation of the deadly bacteria was held within a highly classified program
. It was kept secret from those who could have reprogrammed the defenses because such reprogramming might have compromised the existence and characteristics of the virus. I do not know this for certain, but I feel confident that was the reasoning employed.” The bitter tone of his voice left no doubt as to the doctor’s opinion of that reasoning.
“You’re probably right,” Geary said. “Stupider things have been done in the name of secrecy. Why are you sure the bacteria are still there? They killed every human on Europa centuries ago.”
“So you think the quarantine is a matter of habit or tradition rather than need?” Nasr asked. “No, Admiral. The bacteria are still there. Certain bacteria can survive much longer than centuries even when exposed to the radiation, vacuum, and other conditions of space. From what I know, from how the bacteria spread across Europa and the countermeasures taken to enforce the quarantine, the genetically engineered bioweapon was made to go dormant under harsh conditions, then activate when in a suitable environment to infect human hosts. You would have to assume the bacteria are present anywhere you landed on Europa, even if only a few of them.”
“And one bacterium would be enough,” Geary said.
“One would be enough.”
“Why did those idiots land there?” Desjani demanded.
“Because they are idiots,” Rione said, upset enough to actually answer Desjani directly. “They were hired for a job, chased, trapped, and saw a way out. They took it. Even though it was stupid.”
“Actually,” Geary said, “they may have thought it was incredibly clever.”
“What could possibly be clever about it?” Rione demanded.
Geary pointed to the image of Europa floating above the table like a very large Ping-Pong ball with tan patches and striations all over its surface. “They knew no one could chase them down there, and for some reason the locals aren’t firing on them. They must have known they can sit on the surface without being attacked. They’re probably planning to sit there for months. We can’t wait here for months. When we leave, they can lift, go stealthy again, and escape past the blockade.”
Dr. Nasr shook his head. “No. It would not work. No one, no friends of theirs, would accept them for fear of the plague.”
“Exactly. That’s the stupid part of their clever plan. But if they can get off the surface and away from Europa, they can spread the plague.”
Rione gazed at the image of Europa. “The quarantine ships couldn’t stop them? That gives us leverage if we can come up with a plan.”
Once again, Nasr shook his head. “We cannot go down, and we cannot allow them to come up. The craft did not land near any of the dead cities, but we do not know how much the plague may have spread across the surface of Europa. It only takes one bacterium,” he repeated.
Geary looked toward Desjani. “Any ideas?”
She shook her head angrily. “No. We can’t use the Marines. Their battle armor would keep out the plague. It’s designed to do that sort of thing. But we don’t have battlefield decontamination gear with us, and can’t be sure that would be good enough against this bug. If something was on the outside of their armor when they came back aboard Dauntless . . .” Her words trailed off because they all knew what could happen, and none of them wanted to spell it out.
Several seconds passed without anyone’s saying anything, then Dr. Nasr held up his forefinger, his eyes clouded with thought. “The battle armor will keep out the plague. Do you have the details on this armor?”
“Of course,” Desjani said. “Full specs. What do you need?”
“I am wondering about sterilization,” Nasr said slowly, the words spaced out as his thoughts produced them. “Not simply decontamination. If we sterilize the battle armor before it comes aboard, if we can apply sufficient energy to the outside of the armor without harming those inside . . .”
“Outside the ship?” Geary asked. “What do we have that could do that?”
“Hell lances!” Desjani said. “Scale down the energy. We can calculate exactly how much we need and blast every square millimeter of the battle armor!”
“I need to do some research,” the doctor cautioned.
Desjani had already walked quickly to the nearest comm panel. “Gunnery Sergeant Orvis! I need you on the double in the Admiral’s stateroom. Bring every spec you’ve got on your battle armor.” She tapped another address. “Senior Chief Tarrani. Admiral’s stateroom, on the double. We need to talk hell lances from a surgical perspective.”
She paused after that and looked at Geary. “Should I call Master Chief Gioninni? Are we going to try to make a deal with these guys or just go in shooting?”
Rione frowned and also addressed Geary. “Any diplomatic matters should be handled in proper channels.”
“This isn’t a diplomatic matter,” he replied in as diplomatic a way as he could manage. “This would be making a deal with criminals.”
“Making deals with criminals is a major part of most diplomacy. Didn’t you know that? Do you believe that this Master Chief Gioninni is somehow expert at dealing with criminals?”
Geary paused, then spoke with great care, aware that Desjani was desperately trying to avoid laughing. He felt the same way, in part because of the giddiness brought on by the realization that they might, just might, be able to develop a viable rescue from what had appeared to be a hopeless situation. “Master Chief Gioninni is . . . very familiar with . . . extralegal means of . . . conducting business.”
“I see,” Rione said in a frosty voice. “Whatever he does, whatever he says, could produce extremely serious consequences for the Alliance and for your missing lieutenants. You had best keep that in mind.”
“Perhaps,” Desjani said in a slightly strangled voice brought on by her attempts not to laugh, “Master Chief Gioninni could work with our . . . diplomatic representatives.”
“That’s a good idea,” Geary hastily agreed. “Tell him to contact Envoy Rione and coordinate communications with the occupants of that stealth craft. We want to know how die-hard they are, or whether they can be convinced to give up Lieutenants Castries and Yuon without a fight.”
“I’ll see what can be done,” Rione said. “You do realize, Admiral, that the occupants of that craft have signed their own death sentences. They have nothing to lose. Any deal is going to involve lying to them about being able to save their lives.”
Nobody answered that immediately. Eventually, Geary shook his head. “We didn’t put them in that position. They did it to themselves. If I have to lie to save Lieutenants Castries and Yuon from the stupidity and criminal acts of those people, then I am willing to do so.”
“Don’t bother yourself, Admiral.” Rione smiled sardonically. “I can lie for both of us. That’s also a big part of diplomacy. It’s what I do for a living, remember?”
• • •
THE next hour involved considerable references to specifications of armor and weapons, debates about tolerances and backups, calling up medical references on the ability of bacteria to survive the most extreme conditions, and what little had ever been revealed about the bioengineered plague that had escaped a lab complex on Europa and wiped out every human on that moon with a speed and efficiency that had terrified the rest of humanity.
In one corner of the stateroom, Victoria Rione and Master Chief Gioninni stood listening to the others and talking quietly to each other. After initial coldness on Rione’s part, they seemed to be getting along famously.
Finally, Dr. Nasr looked at Geary and nodded. “Yes, Admiral. We can subject the outside of a suit of battle armor to sufficient heat and other forces to ensure that nothing survives.”
“Excuse me, Doc,” Gunnery Sergeant Orvis said, “but we should clarify that when you say nothing survives, you aren’t including the Marine inside the suit.”
Looking startled, Nasr waved his hands. “No. No. Of course not. The armor will protec
t the occupant. It will be ruined, though. External sensors burned out, joints fused, external coatings badly damaged. The occupants will be fine, but they will have to be cut out of the armor once we are done.”
Orvis scratched his head, grimacing. “By fine we mean uninjured. Mostly uninjured. Nobody’s going to be comfortable, though. It’s going to get pretty damned warm inside that armor until it’s pried open. But the closed-circuit backup life support inside the suits will keep oxygen going for the amount of time we need to worry about.”
“Your Marines can definitely handle the discomfort though?” Rione asked.
It was Gunnery Sergeant Orvis’s turn to look surprised. “Oh, sure. We’re Marines. Too much heat and discomfort and getting shot at and beat up is just run-of-the-mill for us. It’s when we’re really comfortable that we get thrown off by how unusual it all is.”
Rione paused, looking around with a bleak expression. “None of you have mentioned this yet, but what about the two officers? They will not be inside armor. They will have been exposed. A single bacterium would be enough, I heard. How do we deal with that?”
Dr. Nasr grimaced. “What we can do is bring extra armor and seal the officers inside. With any luck, if the fools on that ship have not gone outside or otherwise exposed themselves too much, there will be no contamination inside except anything our Marines might bring despite their own efforts to minimize the risk. But we must face such a possibility of contamination, so even after their armor is sterilized, the two officers will have to be placed in total medical isolation long enough to be certain that they have not been infected. It is the best we can do, and it will ensure that even if the officers are . . . as good as dead . . . the infection will not spread.”
“I understand the need for solutions that are only the least awful compared to the possible alternatives,” Rione said. “Thank you. That option offers our best chance and does not compromise our safety measures.”
“My people will be careful to get those officers into the spare armor as fast and clean as they can,” Gunnery Sergeant Orvis assured Rione.
The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Steadfast Page 7