Farside

by Ben Bova

  “But I can’t stay here!”

  “I know it’s scary,” Stavenger said, trying to sound reasonable. “My own wife is at Farside, and I’m very nervous about that, believe me.”

  “But you’ll let her die here?”

  Stavenger’s youthful face went grim. “Mrs. Halleck, let me tell you something. My father chose to let rogue nanomachines kill him rather than infect all of Moonbase, back before this community was called Selene.”

  “That’s got nothing to do with it,” she insisted.

  “It does to me,” Stavenger countered. “I’m very sorry. I know this is frightening. But no one leaves Farside until the nanobug problem is solved. That’s it.”

  Halleck’s wall screen went blank. She stared at it for long seconds, desperately rummaging in her mind for some solution to this idiotic problem, some way out, some way to save herself.

  The phone chimed again. The data bar said it was Dr. Trudy Yost calling.

  Uhlrich’s assistant, Halleck thought. What on Earth does she want? Then a new idea dawned in her mind. Of course! Halleck said to herself. This young pup might be my ticket out of here.

  COUNTERSTEPS

  “We’ve got to get Dr. Cardenas in on this,” Grant said.

  “I called her more than half an hour ago,” McClintock said from across the table. “She should be here by now. I wonder what’s keeping her?”

  Professor Uhlrich seemed frozen in his desk chair, immobilized by the enormity of what was happening to his dream.

  Grant said, “Professor, perhaps if you called Dr. Cardenas she—”

  The office door slid open and Kris Cardenas stepped in. With another woman. Grant recognized the newswoman, Edie Elgin. The two of them look almost like sisters, Grant realized: bright, youthful, blond—like a pair of former cheerleaders.

  Cardenas was not in a cheerleading mood, though. “I’ve been down in the mirror lab,” she said, without preamble. “That’s why I’m late.”

  Uhlrich roused himself from his funk enough to introduce, “Gentlemen, this is Edie Elgin, the famous video news star.”

  Edith smiled prettily for them as Grant got to his feet and pulled out a chair for her. Cardenas went around the table and settled next to McClintock.

  “You inspected the mirror lab’s airlock?” Uhlrich asked, smoothing his silver hair with an automatic gesture.

  Cardenas nodded. “What happened to the airlock looks superficially like what happened to your technician’s space suit, but I just don’t have the diagnostic tools here to be certain.”

  McClintock looked across the table at Edith. “Ms. Elgin, you understand that is all off the record, for the time being. If you can’t agree to that we’ll have to ask you to leave.”

  “It’s okay with me,” Edith answered easily. “I’ll keep my mouth shut until you’ve got things under control.”

  “Good.” McClintock turned back to Cardenas.

  “If we were in Selene I’d have the equipment for a thorough analysis,” Cardenas went on. “But here…” She left the thought unfinished.

  “What about the equipment in the maintenance center?” Grant asked. “Toshio has that laser probe.”

  Cardenas almost smiled at him. “Do you want to lug that clunker over to your mirror lab or drag the airlock hatch to the maintenance center?”

  Grant understood the problem, but he shook his head as he answered, “We know the spot in the hatch where the leak developed. We take a slice from that region of the hatch and carry it to the maintenance center. That could work.”

  “And what would it tell us?” Cardenas argued. “That there’s a pinhole leak that was caused by nanomachines. We already know that.”

  “We suspect that,” McClintock corrected.

  “With about a ninety percent accuracy,” said Cardenas.

  “So what do we do?” Grant demanded. “Just sit around here while the damned bugs nibble us to death?”

  Cardenas said, “If I knew what kind of nanos they are, what they’re designed to do, what their limits are—then I could figure out a way to stop them.”

  “How long would that take?” McClintock asked.

  Cardenas shrugged.

  “We are all doomed,” said Uhlrich, in a deathly whisper. “We are infested with nanomachines and they will kill us all. I should never have allowed nanomachines to enter Farside.”

  With some heat, Cardenas replied, “Professor, I assure you that the nanos we’ve used to build your mirrors have nothing to do with this problem.”

  “And the nanos in my body?” Grant asked.

  “Impossible,” she said firmly. “How many times do I have to tell you that?”

  “Then where did these destructive nanomachines come from?” Grant wondered.

  McClintock said, “According to Luongo, Anita Halleck was lying to us when she said she hadn’t been exposed to nanomachines.”

  “That’s pretty thin,” said Grant.

  “Do you have anything thicker?”

  “If we confront her she’ll just deny everything,” Grant said. Then he murmured, “Unless…”

  “Unless what?”

  * * *

  Feeling terribly uncertain about the entire matter, Trudy Yost tapped softly on the door to Anita Halleck’s quarters.

  “Who is it?” came Halleck’s muffled voice.

  “Trudy Yost,” she said. “Professor Uhlrich’s assistant.”

  Halleck slid the door back and stood framed in the doorway for a moment, eyeing Trudy haughtily. Halleck was several centimeters taller than Trudy; she was wearing a one-piece jumpsuit that accentuated her trim figure. Trudy was in her best coveralls, powder blue, but they were rumpled and faded from long use.

  “Professor Uhlrich asked me to see if there’s anything we can do for you.…”

  “Yes, you told me that on the phone,” said Halleck as she ushered Trudy into her room. “I presume the professor wants to make my captivity here as comfortable as possible.”

  Trudy blinked at the word captivity, but recovered enough to ask, “Is there anything you need?”

  “I need to get back to Selene,” Halleck snapped. “Actually, I need to get back to Earth, back to my work, instead of being detained in this … this … outpost.”

  “I suppose the accommodations here are kind of primitive,” Trudy admitted, “compared to what you’re used to.”

  Trudy saw that Halleck’s travelbag was on the bed, fully packed and zipped up. She’s ready to go, Trudy realized.

  “Is there anything I can get for you?” she asked. “Do you want a dinner tray, or—”

  A frown etching her fashion-model’s face, Halleck said, “Just get me out of here. I want to leave. I want to get back home.”

  “I understand how you feel,” Trudy said, as she stepped hesitantly toward the sofa. “But with the facility under lockdown, there’s nothing we can do but wait for them to figure out how to deal with the problem.”

  “Wait for how long?” Halleck demanded. “Until we’re all killed? We’ve got to get out of here!”

  “But there’s no place to go,” Trudy said, trying to sound reasonable, rational. “Selene won’t take any flights from here.”

  As if the idea had just popped into her head, Halleck said, “What about the sites you’ve built for your telescopes? They have shelters for people, don’t they? Food and water, air recyclers? Don’t they?”

  Surprised by the idea, Trudy replied, “Yes, they do. But only the Mendeleev site is completed, and there was a nanomachine incident there. One of our technicians was killed.”

  “But the other two sites,” Halleck pressed, “what about them? They haven’t been hit by nanos, have they?”

  “No,” said Trudy. “But there’s nothing there except the concrete slabs that will be the foundations for the telescopes to be built at them. And the shelters, of course.”

  “There’s been no nanomachine activity at either of them?”

  Trudy slowly shook her head. “No.
Neither at Korolev or Gagarin.”

  “And they both have shelters where we could live for a few days?”

  “A week or more.”

  “Then let’s go to one of them!” Halleck said eagerly. “We can stay there until this mess is taken care of.”

  “I don’t think Professor Uhlrich—”

  “Damn Uhlrich!” Halleck snapped. “I’ll provide you with all the authority you need. If Uhlrich fires you, I’ll bring you into my project. I promise you.”

  Almost dazed by Halleck’s insistence, Trudy said, “We’d need a hopper to get out to Korolev, it’s too far to go by tractor.”

  “So? There are hoppers sitting outside, aren’t there?”

  “Four of them,” said Trudy. “But you can’t just walk out and take one. You need permission from the flight control director and—”

  “I’ll take care of that,” Halleck answered. With a knowing smile, she added, “Money talks.”

  “Do you know how to fly a hopper?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Neither do I,” said Trudy, thinking that would put an end to Halleck’s wild scheme.

  But Halleck said, “That man Oberman can fly a hopper, I’m sure.”

  “Nate? I … I suppose so.”

  “Get him on the phone,” Halleck commanded. “Tell him to come here. Quickly!”

  PRISONER

  Josie Rivera was watching a comedy video on the main screen of her console. She was taking her assigned turn as flight control monitor, sitting alone in Farside’s cramped control center. Just two workstations, and the one next to Josie’s was unoccupied and dark.

  Nothing coming in and nothing going out, Josie thought, bored almost to tears. We should just shut down the center altogether, there’s no reason to keep it manned. The Ulcer would have a fit, though. Everybody’s going through the motions, pretending everything’s normal, pretending there’s no threat, no danger.

  The comedy she was watching was inane, a trio of grown men acting like irresponsible idiots. But she tried to concentrate on their dim-witted antics, trying to keep the fear at bay. The facility is infested with nanomachines, she knew. Somewhere, somehow, invisibly small monsters have invaded us, mindless, merciless things the size of viruses are chewing away at us and they won’t stop until we’re all dead, they’ll keep chewing away at us and kill everybody, each and every one of us, they’re going to kill me and—

  Stop it! she screamed silently, pounding both fists on the console’s desktop. Stop it. Nobody’s chewing on you. Grant and Dr. Cardenas will find out what’s wrong and fix it.

  Yeah, she told herself. You hope.

  The phone on the console buzzed, making her twitch with surprise.

  “Answer,” Josie said.

  Nate Oberman’s lantern-jawed face appeared on the phone screen, a crafty smile on his thin lips.

  Without preamble he asked, “How’d you like to make a couple thousand smackers … for doing nothing?”

  * * *

  “Unless what?” McClintock repeated.

  Grant hunched forward slightly in his chair. “Mrs. Halleck was all stewed up about getting away from Farside.”

  “Anita Halleck?” Edith asked. “She just came in here on the same flight with me.”

  “She wasn’t happy about coming back here,” Grant said, “and she sure worked up a sweat trying to get out.”

  McClintock nodded slowly. “Anita did seem unusually emotional about it. Not her normal cool self, not at all.”

  “Because she knows we’re being attacked by nanos,” Grant said.

  “We all know that,” Uhlrich snapped.

  “But she knows better than any of us,” said Grant, “because she’s the one who brought the nanos here.”

  “Anita?” McClintock said.

  “Who else?”

  Edith asked, “But why would Mrs. Halleck do such a thing?”

  “I don’t know why,” Grant said, “but she’s done it.”

  “How do you get her to admit it?” Cardenas wondered.

  With a taut smile, Grant replied, “Simple. Just keep her here. She knows what the nanos are capable of. All we have to do is keep her here with the rest of us. Make her face the same danger she’s put us in. Make her sweat it out. Wait ’til she cracks.”

  McClintock worried, “What if she doesn’t crack until it’s too late, until this place is collapsing around our ears?”

  “It’ll be a race,” Grant admitted. “A game of chicken.”

  Uhlrich shook his head. “And if you’re wrong, Mr. Simpson? What if she’s not responsible?”

  “She is,” Grant answered firmly. “She’s got to be.”

  Uhlrich looked unconvinced.

  Turning to Cardenas, Grant said, “Let’s go down to her quarters and brace her. Tell her we know she’s the one who brought in the gobblers and she’s going to be killed by them along with the rest of us unless she tells us exactly what the nanos are and how we can kill them.”

  “And what if she doesn’t care?” Cardenas argued. “What if she’s insane? Suicidal?”

  McClintock broke into a mirthless chuckle. “Anita Halleck is not suicidal, I can assure you. Homicidal, perhaps. But definitely not suicidal.”

  Grant pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “Come on, Kris. Let’s put it to her.”

  * * *

  “I’m not leaving,” Trudy said, sitting tensely on the sofa.

  Halleck eyed her coolly. “You’d rather stay here and be killed?”

  Oberman was already at the door. Halleck was standing between the desk and the bed, where her travelbag still rested. Trudy had watched, nearly stunned with amazement, as Nate had talked Josie Rivera into turning her back and allowing them to take one of the hoppers without reporting it to Professor Uhlrich or even to Carter McClintock.

  “We’d better get going before Josie loses her nerve,” Oberman said.

  “What you’re doing is wrong,” said Trudy, her fists clenched on her lap.

  “What I’m doing,” Halleck said firmly, “is saving our lives. I have no intention of sitting here and letting the nanomachines kill me.”

  “But—”

  “No buts! If you come with me you’ll be safe. If you stay here you’ll die.”

  “Along with a hundred others,” Trudy said. But she wasn’t thinking of the others. Only of Grant.

  “There’s nothing you can do to save them,” Halleck insisted. “If you stay here you’ll die with them.”

  Looking up at Halleck’s grimly determined face, Trudy asked, “How can you be so sure we’ll be killed? Dr. Cardenas is trying—”

  “By the time Cardenas figures out what she’s up against, it’ll be too late,” Halleck said. “The nanos are spreading, just as they were programmed to do.”

  “Just as…?” Trudy jumped to her feet. “You know about them!”

  “I know what they can do,” Halleck admitted.

  “You’ve got to tell Dr. Cardenas! Grant and the others. You can’t run away and leave them here to die!”

  “I can and I will,” said Halleck. “And you’re coming with me.”

  “No…”

  “Oberman,” Halleck commanded, “pick her up and carry her.”

  Looking surprised, Oberman hesitated.

  “Now!” Halleck shouted.

  Oberman crossed over to the sofa. “C’mon, Dr. Yost,” he muttered. “Don’t make this tougher than it needs to be.”

  Trudy could feel her knees trembling. “But why?” she asked Halleck. “Why have you done this? Why do I have to come with you?”

  A bleak smile curved Halleck’s lips. “As long as you’re with us you won’t be able to warn Uhlrich or Carter that we’re leaving. You won’t be able to tell them that the woman in the control center has been bribed to let us go.”

  Trudy looked from Halleck’s coldly determined face to Oberman’s flinty expression. I can’t fight them both, she thought. What good would it do to try?

 
; Her shoulders slumping, Trudy said, “All right, I’ll go with you.”

  “Wise decision,” said Halleck.

  But as she stepped out into the corridor, with Halleck in front of her and Oberman behind, Trudy wondered how she might get word to Grant. I’ve got to warn him! That one thought flashed through her mind over and over, like an old-fashioned neon sign blinking, glaring in her eyes.

  FLIGHT

  With Kris Cardenas beside him, Grant rapped on the door to Anita Halleck’s quarters. No response. He pounded harder.

  “She’s not there,” Cardenas said.

  Grant tried the door. It wasn’t locked. Sliding it back, he saw that indeed Halleck had gone.

  “Where the hell could she be?” he wondered.

  “Cafeteria, maybe,” said Cardenas.

  With a curt nod, Grant headed for the cafeteria, Cardenas half a step behind him. He flicked open his pocketphone, but a brief scan through the surveillance cameras showed no trace of Halleck.

  There were nearly a dozen people in the cafeteria, looking halfway between bored and scared. But no Anita Halleck. Grant stepped over to where Harvey Henderson was chatting with a couple of other technicians, his place at the table littered with empty dishes and crumbs.

  “Harvey, have you seen Mrs. Halleck in here?”

  Henderson shook his head. “Nope.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  With a shrug, Henderson replied, “Nearly an hour. Not much else to do … except wait for the nanobugs to eat through all the airlocks.”

  The woman on Henderson’s left grumbled, “You’re such an optimist, Harvey.”

  Turning to Cardenas, Grant asked, “Where the hell could she be?”

  Cardenas looked just as puzzled as Grant felt.

  “This place is too small for her to hide out for long,” Grant said. “Come on, let’s get over to the surveillance center. We can run through what the cameras have picked up over the past few hours.”

  Once they left the cafeteria, Grant broke into a trot, jogging along the corridor toward the surveillance center. Cardenas kept pace with him, puffing slightly.

  The surveillance center always reminded Grant of an insect’s eye. One lone technician sat in a padded chair, surrounded by screens that displayed all the public spaces in the Farside facility: labs, offices, corridors, the cafeteria, the flight control center. Grant saw Josie Rivera at flight control, idly watching a video.