[64] Marla Karuw sat at the desk in the overseer’s receiving room and drummed her fingers on the lacquered wood. “Chief, what kind of breeding do most of the constables have? Is it high?”
He looked down at his feet and put his heels together. “Hardly. Most of them are middle breed, young and fit, about equally divided between the sexes. If you want us to find higher breeds we could, but we don’t really—”
“No,” she said, brushing it off. “We’ll also need your constables to oversee the loading of the transporter booths, when the time comes. You’re right, we aren’t geared up for this, but we’re learning as we go. After we get the gel packs and the power tethers installed, we should be able to reopen the transporters for official use, so keep in contact with my staff.”
“Yes, Regent,” he said with a bow. “So we can promise salvation to our new hires?”
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” she asked testily. With a motion of her hand, Marla Karuw dismissed him, and he hurried from the receiving room, his footsteps clacking across the tiled floor.
The regent rubbed her rows of graying eyebrows, thinking that she would never get used to being a conduit for the Divine Hand—having to choose who lived and who died. Although she had always craved responsibility, this was more than any sane person would want. They all deserved to live, every single inhabitant of Aluwna, including every plant and animal. Nothing about this outcome was fair.
That reminded her of another task, to check in with the Biology Institute. At this point, she could do little but monitor the progress of others, and the flora and fauna of Aluwna were one area she had neglected. She tapped the com panel on the desk and said, “Regent Marla Karuw wishes to contact the chief administrator, Dr. Harlam Hazken, Institute of Biology.”
“Regent, I am at your service,” came a voice a moment later.
[65] “How does it go?”
He sighed wearily. “It’s difficult ... taking some and leaving the others, but we’ve narrowed it down to the target number. We have all the samples, or access to them, but this is made difficult by the transporters shutting down.”
“Temporary,” she assured him, making new policy on the spot. “We will reopen a few for official use. By the way, we will also be transporting your specimens first, in about twenty units.”
“Use them to test,” said the biologist. “I understand.”
“The time for testing is long past,” answered Karuw. “We need to get the slower ships sent off as soon as possible, with easily assembled loads. Right after your menagerie are the royalty.”
The biologist chuckled grimly. “I suppose you are having it much worse than I am.”
“No comment,” muttered Karuw. “We’re thinking about doing some terraforming when we get back. Doctor, what do you know about the process called chromasynthesis?”
“Well, it’s a way to synthesize the existence of an animal or plant down to their genetic imprinting, using standard components and cell data. A lot of raw material is required, which makes it impractical. So far it’s mostly hypothetical or on a very small scale—you could maybe reproduce a grub—but chromasynthesis has the promise of a great number of uses. You also know such research is illegal?”
Marla sighed. “I didn’t know for sure, but I suspected as much ... or else we would have taken it farther. Playing with the divine, and so on. Well, we’re already doing that, aren’t we, Doctor?”
“Yes,” he responded. “There is one man, and they say he sometimes traffics with offworlders to obtain equipment and information. He’s the leading authority who’s not in prison.”
“Vilo Garlet?” she asked.
“Yes, Vilo, but you didn’t hear that from me,” cautioned the [66] administrator. “Regent, I’d like to talk more, but I’ve got much to do. I’ve also got to plan for my passing.”
“Your passing?” said Marla with alarm.
His voice cracked as he answered, “I’m eighty-seven cycles old, and my wife isn’t well. Her other two husbands will apply for the list, but they’re young. My wife doesn’t want to be stored in a transporter buffer and resurrected on a desert, or whatever Aluwna will be. So I’ll stay behind with her.”
“You’re a hero in many ways,” said Marla hoarsely. “Thank you, old friend. I’ll let you know as soon as we reopen a few transporters for official use, but it may be a secret.”
“I understand. Harlam Hazken signing off.”
She tapped another panel on the desk and said, “Personal records.”
“Yes,” answered the computer. “Please state the name or search term.”
“Vilo Garlet,” she answered, “formerly of the Science Council. I want an address for him.”
Sunset dropped like a blazing neon curtain over the inlet of the Calm Ocean, and Farlo and Candra stopped upon a garden path to admire the brilliant orange, pink, and salmon hues, reflected in the smooth azure sea. To think that these were the final sunsets to ever be seen in the Aluwnan skies, it was almost too much for the boy and his friend to bear. They tried to talk about their good fortune, but it was clear that they had been lucky on an unlucky day.
“I can’t believe it’s all going to be gone,” said Farlo.
“Don’t think about it,” answered Candra. “Whatever happens, we’re going to get out of here all right.”
“Yeah, I know,” he muttered, thinking of all their friends, the adults who had been kind instead of cruel, and the merchants who had looked the other way when the urchins stole fruit or a roll. Most of them would be gone forever, just like this sunset and the glistening sea.
[67] “Hey!” said Candra cheerfully. “Do you remember the loot you stole in the park this morning? What did you do with it?”
“Buried it,” he said. “It was that damn loot that got us caught.”
“Yes, I know,” she answered, “and got you blood-tested and us on easy street. But when I was at the esplanade, I found out that those black things—that little tube—they’re valuable. We should go get that thing.”
He shrugged. “It was just a perfume mister. I tried it.”
“Well, it’s a valuable perfume mister,” she insisted. “Where did you hide it?”
Farlo looked at her curiously. “Why should I tell you? People are trying to save their necks—they don’t care about perfume misters.”
Candra grinned at him. “You hid it by the apothecary, didn’t you?”
“So what if I did? You can’t get there anyway—the transporters are closed, so they can get ready to grab all of our molecules and keep us in cold storage.”
“Hey, let’s go over to the transporter to make sure,” said Candra. “Come on, I’ll race you!”
She kicked off her fancy shoes and ran full speed down the path toward the red booth on the outskirts of the grounds. Farlo had no choice but to shake his head and run after his lithe companion. Even if they had left at the same time, it would have been hard to beat Candra, and he didn’t stand a chance with her head start. She reached the booth several instants before Farlo did, and she hid from him on the other side of the contraption. He chased her around the enclosure a few times and tried to catch her, but she was always too swift for him; she finally ducked into the booth itself, and he followed her.
They stood panting, their short breaths echoing in the chamber, which was big enough to hold the two of them and maybe two more travelers. The lights on the control panel were [68] blinking as if the thing worked, but they had heard from several disgruntled servants that the transporter didn’t work. According to the gossip, all of them were trapped in the Institute of Devotion for the rest of their short lives, unless they made the list.
“Computer,” said Candra playfully, “take us to the Blue Bird Apothecary in Tejmol.”
Farlo laughed at her. “You know it won’t—”
He felt the strange tingle of the transporter beam and saw his friend giggle as she began to fade away. Farlo gripped her arm and shouted, “But we can’t leave—
/> It was too late—they were gone, reconstituted on a side street in Aluwna’s capital city. Except for the tingle and mild dizziness, the only thing that seemed to have changed was the color of the booth, because the one they exited was blue. Laughing, Candra pushed him out the door, right into the brawny arms of a constable.
“Hey, you!” he growled, grabbing Farlo roughly by the shoulders. “Don’t you know that travel is restricted?”
The lad looked around at four other constables and a number of onlookers milling around the closed storefronts. He knew they had made a terrible mistake, and they would no doubt pay for it.
“It’s not restricted for us!” claimed Candra bravely. “Don’t you know who Farlo is? He’s the new seeress consort. Turn him loose!”
“Sure, and I’m the new regent!” said the constable with a laugh.
“Let him go!” seconded another voice, from an officer who had stepped inside the transporter booth and was studying the control panel. “They just came from the Institute of Devotion, and the computer does identify him as Seeress Consort Farlo. Sorry, Your Highness.”
The officer bowed, and so did the other constables, reluctantly. But a surly crowd was gathering around the booth to watch this bit of drama, and they didn’t look impressed by [69] the new consort, despite his exotic clothing and pretty companion.
“Hey, I thought they were shut down!” cried one woman angrily. “Hey, everyone! Look, this transporter is running!”
“Yeah, I saw them get out!” yelled a man, charging toward the brawny constable. “We can get home!”
The officer wrestled with the man for a moment and finally had to use his stun stick on him. That enraged a few loudmouths in the growing crowd, and they all pressed forward like a swelling tidal wave. The constables were quickly overwhelmed and knocked down by people rushing the transporter booth. Farlo grabbed Candra’s hand and tried to make it back into the box, but they were stopped by rioters trying to squeeze in ahead of them. Then Farlo felt Candra yank her hand out of his grip, and she vanished into the frenzied crowd. He had no choice but to follow her.
Farlo caught up with his friend behind the booth, where she was digging in his secret hold. She grinned happily at him as she retrieved the small black tube, the transporter pass, and the crystal timepiece he had stashed there that morning. Some of the mob took her actions to be an effort to turn over the transporter booth, and they surrounded Candra and started pushing against the machine, even as other people battled to get inside it. The struggle turned into chaos, and all Farlo could do was grab Candra and pull her out of the melee.
“Damn, we’re in for it now!” shouted the lad as he pushed his friend into the doorway of an abandoned storefront. “Look what you started!”
Triumphantly she held up the black tube and said, “I saved our lives.”
“We were safe where we were,” he insisted. “Now we’re stuck out here ... with everyone else. They’re wrecking the transporter!”
Sure enough, the mob trying to overturn the booth was [70] bigger and more determined than the rabble trying to enter it, and the blue enclosure tilted over and crashed into the street, accompanied by cries of horror and delight. When two explosions from the machine spewed sparks and smoke into the air, the revenge of the crowd was complete, and even Candra looked as if she was afraid.
“Come on!” she said, grabbing Farlo’s arm and pulling him into the shadows. As night fell over the panicked city, two finely dressed young people dashed down a deserted street, gripping each other’s hands.
Marla Karuw looked up at the flickering electric sign over the warehouse door—it read CONDEMNED BY ORDER OF PRECAUTION DEPARTMENT, and she glanced at the metal door, which was bolted and locked by an exterior device. She nodded to the cadre of constables and technicians who had accompanied her to this empty industrial park, and one of them stepped forward with a small beam emitter. Efficiently, he sliced off the lock, and it clattered to the street. Waving their stun sticks, the constables crowded around her, prepared to conduct her into the darkened building.
“No, I’ll go alone,” she told them as she pushed open the metal door. The odor of old solvents assaulted her nose, and she saw nothing but darkness and scattered trash on the floor.
“Regent, we urge you to reconsider,” said the ranking officer. “Anybody could be living here.”
“Or nobody,” she suggested. “Wait here, and I’ll call you if I need you. Have you got a light?”
The constable handed her a small torch which shot a bright beam into the gloomy corridor, and Marla cautiously entered. There were a few small offices on either side of the corridor, but they appeared to be deserted, except for trash. So she made her way to the double doors at the end of the hallway, and they opened at her approach. That gave her a start, but it meant that [71] not all the power had been cut to this building, just enough to make it appear to be empty. The building had been approved for residence and light industrial work, although it didn’t look inviting for either use.
Marla stepped into a large warehouse space that was empty, except for some huge packing crates in the far corner. The crates were big enough to make small apartments, and she walked slowly in that direction, letting her beam of light lead the way. In truth, she didn’t have time for hide-and-seek; if her quarry was here, she wanted to see him.
“Vilo Garlet!” she called. “Listen, Vilo! This is Marla Karuw, and I’m regent now. You don’t have to be afraid of me—I want to save your life. I need you to help me.”
A wheezing chuckle sounded somewhere in the darkness, and a voice came from overhead. “I’m not afraid of you, Marla. On the contrary, I’m gladdened that they had the sense to put you in charge. On the other hand, I don’t trust you any more than I trust the overseer.”
She saw a slim figure moving on a catwalk against the far wall, two stories above her head. Marla walked slowly in that direction, keeping her tone of voice conversational. “We used to be colleagues, before they chased us both out. You can trust me. Don’t you want to leave before the wave comes?”
“Oh, I’m leaving,” he answered. “Very soon, which is why I haven’t got time for you. Now if you and your friends outside will leave me alone, we can both get on with our lives ... even while our homeworld dies.”
“You have a way off?” asked Marla, still moving toward him. “I’m impressed.”
“I have friends,” he answered. “I don’t want to leave right this second, but I will, if you come another step closer.”
The regent stopped in her tracks and turned off her light. “There. I won’t force you to do anything, but I want to appeal to your reason. If you can help me use chromasynthesis, we may [72] have a way to reseed this planet much more quickly than normal. Believe me, no one will go to jail, and there will be no more forbidden knowledge or heretical research.”
“That’s reassuring,” said the figure, moving away from her. “I’ve only made one chromasynthetic device that’s worth anything, and it was built for a very specific purpose. But it’s been lost. Just when I was about to change this planet for the better, along comes this energy wave to completely wipe us out. Ironic, eh?”
“This doesn’t have to be the end of Aluwna,” insisted Karuw. “Help me, please.”
“You and your friends do your best,” said the voice from the darkness. “If I can, I’ll return to Aluwna afterward and help you, but I can’t risk discovery now. Good-bye, Marla.”
He vanished into the shadows, and she heard a door shut. “Blast it!” muttered Karuw, feeling like a failure. How was Vilo Garlet going to leave the planet, unless he had a ship? She wouldn’t put it past him, because he had often associated with offworlders.
She tapped her communications pin and said, “Regent Karuw to team leader. There’s no one here, so I’m coming out. Tell the ship to prepare to beam us up.”
“Yes, Regent,” replied the officer with obvious relief.
“And tell the captain to scan for any offworld ship
s in orbit,” she ordered. “If he finds any, I want them informed that they should help us.”
“Yes, Regent.”
“How could you lose him?” shrieked Seeress Jenoset, flapping her arms and stomping across the smooth tiles of the domed ballroom. Stars glistened in the night sky as seen through magnifying panels in the dome, but there were only two people in the hall, and neither one was enjoying the view.
Consort Padrin shrunk away from Jenoset’s wrath, knowing [73] he had erred badly, but he still had to offer an explanation. “The transporters were down,” he said slowly, “so I didn’t think it was necessary to watch Farlo every instant. How was I to know that they reopened the transporters? At least that booth at the wall they reopened—some others still appear to be closed.”
The regal monarch scowled at him in disbelief and motioned to the elegant furnishings. “Are you saying they left all this to go back to the streets? That’s hard to believe, especially with this disaster looming over us. And I don’t usually lose new husbands in the space of a few units.”
“I understand,” said Padrin, seizing on her insecurities. “Perhaps he didn’t understand exactly what we had to offer him. Plus it might have been a mistake to bring his little friend here, because she might have had some influence on him.”
“You’re right about that,” snapped Jenoset, tapping her elegantly encased toe on the marble floor. “The little wench was out to destroy our marriage, I could tell with one glance. Normally I’m more careful about these things, but I was in a hurry. We’ve got the highest breeding stock on the planet, and he slips through our fingers. I’m so distracted by everything, I can’t think!”
“Perhaps they didn’t use the transporter but went on foot,” said Padrin hopefully as he pointed toward the black hills, covered with night. “Perhaps they’ll walk back in due time.”
“Perhaps you’re brain-dead,” replied the seeress with a snarl. “They left—they’re gone. Have you checked the log in the booth to see where the last destination was?”
STAR TREK: TNG - The Genesis Wave, Book Four - Genesis Force Page 7