Leviathans of Jupiter

by Ben Bova

  “Why aren’t the shots working?” Corvus wondered.

  Deirdre started to answer, hesitated, then decided to plunge in. If I can’t trust my three friends I’m really all alone, she said to herself.

  Aloud, she told them, “The virus might be genetically engineered. I think it is.”

  COUNTERMOVE

  “Genetically engineered?”

  “By whom?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Deirdre raised both her hands and tried to calm them down, surprised at how angry and distressed all three of them seemed.

  “Mrs. Westfall told me—”

  “Katherine Westfall?” Corvus gaped at her. “What’s she got to do with it?”

  “She’s the one who raised the possibility,” Deirdre said.

  “I don’t get it,” said Yeager. “Why would a member of the IAA’s governing council be involved in something like this?”

  Deirdre closed her eyes briefly, remembering Katherine Westfall’s exact words.

  “She told me, quote, ‘Back on Earth there was some rumor about a biology laboratory that developed a genetically engineered form of rabies.’ ”

  “She said that?” Yeager asked.

  “Word for word.”

  “That doesn’t mean—”

  Deirdre interrupted, “Then she told me that she wants me to keep her informed on what Dr. Archer is doing. She particularly wants to know what’s going on with his plan to send a crewed mission into the ocean, Max.”

  “Well, she would, wouldn’t she?”

  “She wants me to spy on Dr. Archer for her.”

  Yeager’s face showed clear disbelief. Andy looked doubtful, too. It was hard to read Dorn’s impassive features.

  Deirdre went on, “She told me, quote, ‘I want you to keep me informed on what’s going on here. Fully informed. Keep me informed and I’ll do everything I can to help cure your infection. Do we understand one another?’ ”

  The three men glanced at each other uneasily.

  “That’s exactly what she said to me,” Deirdre assured them. “And you should have seen the expression on her face! Like a snake!”

  “This is very serious,” said Dorn.

  “Why would she do it?” Yeager wondered aloud.

  “What should I do about it?” Deirdre asked.

  “Not ‘I,’ ” said Dorn. “Us. What should we do about it?”

  “We’ve got to do something,” Yeager said.

  “Yes, but what?” asked Dorn.

  “Use your head,” Corvus said, looking impatient. “Go to the top. Tell Archer about it. He’s the only one who can help us.”

  * * *

  First thing the next morning, the four of them trooped over to Grant Archer’s office. The station director looked surprised as they came in, unannounced, and asked for his attention.

  Archer stroked his beard absently as he listened to Deirdre’s recital. When at last she finished, he leaned back in his recliner and was silent for several moments. Deirdre, Corvus, Yeager, and Dorn sat arrayed around him, waiting for the station director to say something.

  At last Archer sat up straighter and murmured, “It never ends.”

  Corvus blinked at him. “What never ends?”

  Leaning his hands on his thighs, Archer said softly, “When I first came here, more than twenty years ago, I was asked to spy on the station director.”

  “What?”

  His light brown eyes focused on the past, Archer told them, “When I came to station Gold, I was a grad student working toward my doctorate in astrophysics. The New Morality sent me here as part of my public service obligation.”

  “The New Morality?” Deirdre asked.

  “They’re a religious outfit back in North America,” Yeager explained. “Fundamentalists.”

  “They were a very powerful political force back then,” said Archer. “They thought that the studies of extraterrestrial life that were being conducted here on Gold conflicted with their views of the Bible. They sent me here to find out just what the scientists were doing and report back to them.”

  “They thought that studying ET life contradicts the Bible?” Corvus said. “That’s nutty.”

  “Not to them,” Archer replied. “They were very powerful in those days. They practically ran the government.”

  Dorn said, “When a religious group gains political power, both the religion and the political system suffer.”

  Archer shook his head, as if trying to clear his mind. “That was more than twenty years ago. Things have changed. For the better, I think.”

  Yeager said, “There’re still lots of people back Earthside who believe all that fundamentalist bullshit.”

  “But Mrs. Westfall isn’t one of them,” Deirdre pointed out.

  Archer agreed. “No, I don’t believe she is.”

  “Then why does she want Dee to spy on you?” Corvus asked.

  Archer almost smiled. “Beats me. She must have her reasons. I’ve shown her everything we’re doing here. I’ve been quite open with her.”

  Dorn said, “Conspiracy theory.”

  “What?”

  “People who believe in conspiracy theories are never satisfied with the information you give them—unless that information confirms their beliefs.”

  “Like the UFO believers,” Yeager said.

  “Well, the solar system really has been visited by intelligent extraterrestrials,” Corvus said. “We know that.”

  “Millions of years ago, most likely,” Yeager countered.

  “Maybe not,” said Deirdre, turning to Dorn.

  The cyborg nodded to her, then told the others, “There is an artifact that seems quite beyond human capabilities, hidden out in the Asteroid Belt. I’ve seen it. It changed my life.”

  “But we’ve got no idea how long it’s been there,” Yeager insisted.

  “The point that I originally intended to make,” Dorn said, looking squarely at Archer, “is that no matter how much information you give to someone who believes in conspiracy theories, that person will remain convinced that you are hiding vital facts from him.”

  “Or her,” Deirdre added.

  Archer’s face showed he understood Dorn’s point. “So you think that Mrs. Westfall believes I’m hiding something from her.”

  “And she’s enlisted Deirdre to pry that information out of you,” Dorn said.

  “But I’m not hiding anything!”

  “That means that Deirdre can’t tell her anything more than she’s already learned directly from you.”

  Yeager said, “Which means she’ll think Deirdre’s holding out on her.”

  Corvus picked up, “Which means she won’t let the medics cure the gengineered virus.”

  They all turned toward Deirdre.

  “I could die of rabies,” she said, in a choked whisper.

  “No!” Corvus snapped. “Never!”

  “We’ll get her to produce the cure,” Dorn said, folding his prosthetic hand into a tight fist.

  “Maybe there isn’t a cure,” Yeager said. “Just because some lab manufactured an engineered virus doesn’t mean they’ve also made a way to kill it.”

  Deirdre felt her insides simmer with sudden fear.

  Archer saw the expression on her face and said gently, “Don’t worry. I’ll send all your medical files and a sample of your blood to the nanotech lab at Selene University. They’ll design a nanomachine specifically to track down that virus and tear it apart.”

  “That…” Deirdre’s breath caught in her throat. “That would be very expensive, wouldn’t it?”

  Archer smiled at her. “We’ve already paid for your passage here. And your scholarship. This would simply be protecting our investment in you.”

  “And do you think that would work? The nanobugs could wipe out the virus?”

  “Certainly. I’ll send the data today. Your current therapy is maintaining you; the virus isn’t spreading through your nervous system. Selene will produce the nanomachines
to cure you.”

  “And what do we do in the meantime?” Corvus asked. “Westfall will expect information from Dee.”

  “We’ll give you information to feed her,” Archer said. “For example, Faraday’s first message capsule is due to pop out of the ocean later today. Isn’t that right, Dr. Yeager?”

  “Max,” Yeager corrected automatically. Then he added, “You’re right. Data capsule’s due in”—he glanced at his wristwatch—“two and a half hours.”

  “Make a copy of the capsule’s upload and give it to Deirdre,” Archer directed. “That should keep Mrs. Westfall happy for a while.”

  Corvus grinned. Dorn nodded thoughtfully.

  But Yeager said, “If the capsule comes up. If everything’s going right down there.”

  FARADAY

  Sensor data: No leviathans observed.

  Central computer: Extend search to maximum sensor range.

  Sensor data: No leviathans observed.

  Program time line: Data capsule to be launched in 60.0000 seconds.

  Central computer: Query logic tree. Launch data capsule despite lack of data?

  Logic tree: Command protocol dictates data capsule launch according to preprogrammed schedule, regardless of contents of data storage.

  Human analog subprogram: Aphorism, “No news is good news.” Aphorism, “It is always darkest before the dawn.”

  Central computer: Launch data capsule on schedule.

  Mission objectives program: Data capsule launched.

  Sensor report: Pressure waves indicate presence of large organisms at extreme range of sensitivity.

  Time line: 17.3318 seconds elapsed since launch of data capsule.

  Sensor report: Detected organisms moving at depth deeper than mission profile cruise depth.

  Central computer: Mission profile cruise depth can be exceeded if necessary.

  Sensor report: Detected organisms’ depth estimated at 900 kilometers below ocean surface.

  Central computer: Nine hundred kilometers is within nominal performance limits. Change course to dive to depth of detected organisms.

  Navigation program: Course correction implemented. Diving.

  Sensor report: Detected organisms not leviathans. Signature indicates organisms to be predators.

  Memory bank: Sharklike predators attack and feed on leviathans. Voracious. Extremely dangerous. Have attacked research vessels from time to time.

  Central computer: Query, How many predators have been detected?

  Sensor report: Eighty-two.

  Memory bank: No previous observation of more than fifteen predators at one sighting. Eighty-two predators an unprecedented number.

  Central computer: Query decision tree: Launch additional data capsule?

  Decision tree: Not enough data to determine if this is new behavior of predators or normal behavior not heretofore observed.

  Logic program: Large assemblage of predators an indication that large assemblage of prey must be near enough to be attacked. Since predators prey on leviathans, conclusion is that leviathans must be within sensory range of predators.

  Mission objectives priority: 1. Self-preservation. 2. Observation of leviathans. 3. Report accumulated data on schedule. 4. Report new phenomena immediately. 5. Observation of predators.

  Central computer: Follow predator swarm, assuming that they will lead to leviathans.

  Mission protocol program: WARNING. Predator swarm near mission profile depth limit. Leviathans may be below mission profile depth limit.

  Central computer: Follow predator swarm to depth limit of mission profile.

  * * *

  “No leviathans?” Andy Corvus asked, wide-eyed with disbelief. “Not even one?”

  Max Yeager shook his head. “Not even one.”

  Corvus had dropped in at the control center after another disappointing swim with the dolphins. Only one of the consoles was manned; even the cute little Russian chief controller had taken off. Yeager sat at one of the consoles, looking weary and rumpled, his long hair tangled, his chin dark with several days’ growth of stubble.

  “Where are they?” Corvus asked.

  Irritated, Yeager jabbed a finger at the console’s central screen. “You see any? They’re not there! Nowhere in sight!”

  Corvus stared at the screen as if he could make the leviathans appear by sheer willpower.

  “I’ve checked all the data sixteen times from Sunday,” Yeager grumbled. “Faraday entered the ocean smack in the middle of their usual feeding grounds. But they aren’t there.” With a shake of his shaggy head he added, “They must be down lower, maybe too deep for her to reach them.”

  “Maybe the ship scared them off?”

  Yeager gave him a sour look. “My baby might look big to you, Andy, but to those damned whales it’s just a little minnow. She didn’t scare them.”

  Frowning with puzzlement, Corvus muttered, “Maybe something else did, then.”

  * * *

  Faraday Central computer: Query core memory re attacks on submersible vessels by predators.

  Core memory: Attacks by predators not unusual. Two earlier submersible vessels lost, presumably due to predator attacks.

  Mission objectives priority: 1. Self-preservation. 2. Observation of leviathans. 3. Report accumulated data on schedule. 4. Report new phenomena immediately. 5. Observation of predators.

  Mission protocol program: WARNING. Approaching depth limit of mission profile.

  Systems check: All systems functioning within design parameters.

  Central computer: Do not exceed depth limit of 1000 kilometers.

  Logic tree: Prime directive of self-preservation can be achieved by maintaining sufficient distance from predators to forestall their attacks.

  Central computer: Follow predators while maintaining existing distance from them.

  Logic tree: Why do predators attack inanimate vessels? Possibility one: Predators do not have enough intelligence to recognize inanimate objects from potential edible prey. Possibility two: Predators behaving analogously to predators of Earth by staking out hunting territory and resisting encroachment by others.

  Question: Are predator attacks simple reflex action or territorial behavior? Not enough data to decide.

  Subsidiary question: If behavior is territorial, how do predators distinguish particular locations? Are there characteristics of the ocean environment undetected by ship’s sensors but clearly discernable to predators?

  Central computer: Insufficient data to derive meaningful solution. Continue following predators; maintain existing distance; do not exceed depth limit.

  Safety subprogram: WARNING. Increasing depth causing rising internal temperatures.

  Query: Are rising internal temperatures causing system malfunctions?

  Safety subprogram: All systems operating within nominal limits.

  Central computer: Continue existing course.

  Sensor report: Predator pack has divided into two segments. One is continuing on course. The other has reversed course and is heading toward this vessel.

  OBSERVATION DECK

  Deirdre felt her breath catch in her throat.

  She had agreed to meet Mrs. Westfall in the observation deck of station Gold, a special section of the second wheel with a long window of glassteel looking out into space. The deck was empty and dark when Deirdre entered; like the observation blister aboard Australia, once she closed the hatch she seemed to be hanging in the middle of infinity, swarms of stars gleaming all about her, solemn and unblinking, stars of all colors blazing their light across the universe.

  Deirdre took an unsteady step across the glassteel floor. It was like walking on the face of the deep. And then, as the station slowly rotated, massive Jupiter rose majestically into view. The planet loomed huge, immense, its varicolored clouds churning and whirling before Deirdre’s staring eyes. It filled her vision, engulfed her senses like a true god, encompassing everything. Deirdre felt herself trembling. Jupiter, king of the gods, mightiest
of all the planets of the solar system.

  She reached out her hand as the incredible swirling beauty of the planet slid unhurriedly before her amazed eyes. Her fingertips touched the cold solidity of the glassteel window. For long minutes she stood there, transfixed, watching the giant planet’s roiling, eddying clouds. Close enough to touch, she thought. Almost close enough to touch.

  Then the station’s rotation swung Jupiter out of her view. She watched the curve of the planet’s limb, brilliant against the blackness of space, slowly swing out of sight. How pale the stars seemed! How distant and cold.

  The hatch opened and the floor lights glowed faintly. Deirdre could see Katherine Westfall’s slim figure reflected in the window, outlined within the frame of the hatchway.

  Reluctantly she turned to face Mrs. Westfall. The woman was only shoulder high to Deirdre, but her form-fitting metallic jumpsuit once again made Deirdre feel shabby in her everyday gray coveralls. Once the hatch closed and the lights dimmed again, she heard Westfall’s breath puff out of her.

  “Goodness!” Westfall gasped.

  Deirdre smiled knowingly. “It’s like being in outer space,” she said, extending a hand to Westfall.

  Quickly recovering, Westfall disdained Deirdre’s hand as she stepped up beside her. “It is rather spectacular, isn’t it?”

  “The universe,” Deirdre murmured.

  “All those stars. Clouds of them. Oceans of them.”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you identify them?”

  “Some,” Deirdre said. “That bright blue one is Sirius, I think. And over there, the yellowish one, that’s probably Canopus.”

  Westfall said, “When we were children we always tried to find ‘Beetlejuice’.”

  “You grew up in Australia?”

  “The Outback. I thought we saw plenty of stars back there, but this … this is rather much, isn’t it?”

  “Rather,” Deirdre agreed.

  “Now then,” Westfall said, her tone turning businesslike, “what have you found out?”

  Knowing that Dr. Archer would tell her about Faraday’s first data capsule within a few hours, Deirdre reported, “The vessel sent its first data capsule on schedule.”