by Sayuri Ueda
“All right.”
“Why don’t you get some rest yourself?” Harding said without a hint of ridicule. “Best you give yourself a break so you can stay quick on your feet, or Karina will play you.”
After thanking him for the warning, Shirosaki ended the transmission and headed for the room where Karina was being held.
“Would you like to go in, sir?” the guard on duty asked. Shirosaki refused and activated the intercom by the door instead.
Shirosaki stood at the window looking into the room and observed Karina’s reaction as he told her Kline’s message.
Karina listened quietly, but once Shirosaki was through, she said hoarsely, “The fool. That woman is ready to turn her back on the special district because of her damn pride. Some supervisor she turned out to be. And the doctor? Ey ran straight to you after I’d told her to talk to Kline.”
“Who’s the fool here? You won’t get anywhere by holding out any longer. It’s best you give up while you still have some lives to bargain with.”
“At this rate, the special district will surely perish,” Karina said. “The entire world, not just the Rounds, will blame you and hold you responsible.”
“Better that than bend to your demands,” Shirosaki said. “I’ll be back. In the meantime, I suggest you think about it.”
“Wait,” Karina called out.
“You ready to talk?”
“No—what about you? Would you be willing to make a deal?”
Karina’s tone didn’t reveal a hint of panic. Either she was still sure of her position or she was determined to hide any vulnerability to the end.
Shirosaki was just as hungry for information as the others. In fact, he might have been even more desperate for it, since he was helpless to offer medical care to the Rounds in the way Tei and Kline could.
Should he play along or rebuff her to see what she did next?
“If the special district perishes, you’ll be held responsible,” Karina continued. “Don’t you want to absolve yourself even a little?”
“I have no opinion on the matter. I am nothing more than an arm of a very large system.”
“Forget the system. I’m asking about your pride and principles as a man.”
“You think appealing to my emotions will get you anywhere?”
“That isn’t my intention. I just thought you might like to talk. You just seem to be a more decent sort than Harding.”
“I’ll be back in half an hour,” replied Shirosaki. “We can talk then.”
Tigris and Calendula trembled as they gazed at a dead child, the offspring of two of their friends.
The tiny body, wrapped in soft cloth, lay lifeless in the cradle. It was hard to believe ey had been suffering and crying only moments before.
The soul had slipped away, leaving only the empty shell. But even the shell, ravaged by disease, was already starting to turn cold. All it would do now was decompose.
Choked sobs echoed throughout the assembly hall. Parents of the dead children held each other and let out mournful wails.
Tigris and Calendula wanted to shield their ears, afraid that they might go mad, that they were witnessing tragedy that would befall them soon enough. There was no telling when their own children would suffer the same fate. Or perhaps they were next.
None of the Rounds were in the state of mind to console the parents of the children that had died. Fortia had been shot and was in serious condition, and Album had been ordered to rest. Although the elder members assembled an emergency council, they proved mostly impotent and acted primarily as liaisons between the special district and the station staff. Afflicted with fever themselves, the elders took as much medication to reduce their fever as they could stomach. Having heard of the infants’ deaths, they were shaken by the fear that they were next.
Despite some variance, every one of the Rounds had been infected. Even to the untrained eye, it was painfully clear that the Rounds with weaker immune systems were suffering the most. To the Rounds, born and raised inside the hygienic confines of the space station without ever having caught so much as a cold, the suffering of even a two-degree spike in body temperature was unbearable.
When Wagi requested that the children’s bodies be frozen instead of being given a space burial, the Rounds were struck dumb with horror. The doctor reasoned that the bodies might help them find a cure, but none of the Rounds were satisfied with the explanation.
“Do you mean to cut these children to pieces?” Calendula shouted, making no attempt to hide eir hostility. “They died in such pain and you want to use them still?”
“Please, I’m begging you as a doctor,” pleaded Wagi, bowing his head.
“No,” said one couple. “We refuse. If you must, you can use my body when I’m gone.”
“You may still survive. I’m speaking of those who have already passed.”
“Please don’t touch the children. Surely you understand if you have children of your own.”
One after the next, the Rounds began to voice their opposition.
“Leave them be.”
“We’ve been nothing but cooperative with you in the past.”
“Let them be, just this once. Please.”
Wagi listened silently and finally spoke, his lips quivering. “Even so, as a doctor I implore you to reconsider. For the sake of those still hanging on, you must understand.”
“What was the security team doing?” Calendula spat. “So many of them and still they allowed the terrorists to attack us. Not only that, they allowed some mysterious substance to be dispersed in the special district. What good are they to us now? We would have been better off fighting the terrorists ourselves. We should have killed them the moment they came into the special district.”
“There’s no sense in talking about what’s done.”
Calendula slapped Wagi across the face, staggering the doctor.
“The incompetence of you Monaurals!” Calendula glowered. “Now I understand why Fortia wanted nothing to do with you.”
Wagi did not raise any objection. Saying nothing more about collecting the bodies, he turned and walked away to administer to the other patients.
“I want the terrorists dead.” Calendula seethed. “I’m going to form a party. I’m going to break out of the special district and kill the terrorists.”
“Just what good do you think that’s going to do?” Tigris asked.
“At least it’ll give me some peace of mind.”
“We can have more children—as many as we can stand. We’re still young, Calendula. We can always have more.”
“We can’t replace the children we lost by having more babies. You can’t bring back the children that died. Don’t you know that?” Calendula demanded.
“Calm down. I can barely keep from going crazy myself. Don’t do anything to make things worse than they already are.”
“Aren’t you bitter? Are you going to sit there and do nothing?”
“Of course I’m bitter. And sad. But don’t do anything stupid,” Tigris said.
“Stupid, is it? How about giving the others something to feel good about?”
Tigris grabbed Calendula’s hand as ey stirred to leave. “Wait, where are you going?”
“I’m going to find some recruits, starting with the parents.”
Kline and Preda were engaged in a long discussion in the control room when Wagi walked in and sank down on the sofa. The look on Wagi’s face had turned completely desolate over the past day. Kline asked if he wanted something to drink; Wagi asked for coffee with a nip of brandy.
“Dammit, if our hands aren’t tied,” Wagi groaned, holding his head in his hands. “It’s unbearable enough for the Rounds to see their own die in front of them, but to have to see their children die first…”
“How are the adults faring?” asked Kline.
“Every one of them is infected, of course, but none of them critically. They’re better off than the children.”
“Could it be
the effect of the treatments?”
“Hard to say. Their temperatures have leveled off, so I suspect this period of remission will continue. What bothers me is the next stage Karina was hinting at—some other impairment following the fever, I suppose.” Wagi turned to Preda and asked, “Anything useful from Wolfren?”
“Arino’s been interrogating him, but Wolfren hasn’t said anything about the contaminant.”
“Why not put Harding on his case?”
“He was there during the interrogations. I hear Harding gave him a good licking, but nothing. Then Wolfren suffered asphyxiation.”
“What the hell did Harding do to him? We get nothing if he dies.”
“It wasn’t Harding’s fault,” Preda said. “Wolfren ingested some poison he had hidden on him.”
“He tried to kill himself?”
“He self-induced a coma so he couldn’t talk. Some kind of drug that disrupts the blood-brain barrier and cranial nerves. We injected a molecular machine into the vein to dissolve the drug’s effects. If it works, we might be able to wake him, but that might take some time.”
Wagi cursed.
“According to Dr. Tei, Karina is stalling for time,” Preda continued, “until the contaminant achieves its full effect, thereby giving her the advantage. She probably planned to elude the security teams a bit longer but was unexpectedly captured because the teams moved so quickly.”
“So does that mean there’s a cure for this thing even after the symptoms progress?”
“Apparently, Karina was shaken when the doctor told her about the infant deaths. Could it be their deaths were an unintended consequence?”
“We can’t be sure unless we ask Karina.”
Kline set down a coffee pack in front of Wagi. Wagi thanked her and took a sip. “Anyone among the station staff presenting with any symptoms?” Kline asked.
“No one thus far. How are you feeling?” Wagi asked of Kline and Preda.
“We’re fine,” Kline answered.
“Either the contaminant has been contained or it’s ineffectual against us. It’s hard to say,” said Wagi, shaking his head. “Dammit, if we only had the diagnostic equipment.”
“What if the Rounds should all die?” muttered Preda. After a pregnant pause, he continued, “Who would be held responsible?”
Kline scowled. “Stop it.”
“I’m just asking. The security teams were deployed at their stations, and all security systems were operational—nothing we need to be held accountable for. If it came to a question of who’s responsible, I suppose the commanders in charge of security—”
“Commander Shirosaki has done a commendable job,” Kline interjected. “Harding too.”
“If someone goes down, I’d rather have Harding take the fall over Shirosaki.”
Kline glowered at Preda. “You don’t mean to make Harding the scapegoat.”
“The commander of the stationed team has operational command. Shirosaki’s team merely joined the security detail already in place.”
“You know Harding won’t take it sitting down. He may even talk to the higher-ups about the incident.”
“No, he won’t. He’d only be disgracing himself.”
“He may try to take us all down with him.”
“I wonder,” Preda said, dubious.
“Stop looking for a way out,” said Kline with a severe look. “We’ve all been through so much together on this station. We need to stand firm.”
Preda pursed his lips. “Perhaps this was a mistake—to bioengineer a bigender subspecies in this way. We needn’t have done it just because we have the technology. The conservative majority on the planets have to be cheering in the streets about now. About how the overzealous scientists had it coming to them.”
“The desire to innovate is an essential part of human nature. Suppressing that desire is far more sinful than gender experiments,” Kline said.
“I know that. The experiments here had the approval of the Planetary Bioethics Association. I understand it was a path we had to go down once, but knowing when we’ve strayed down the wrong path and knowing when to turn back is the better part of wisdom.”
“If you want to turn back now, you go right ahead. I’m not leaving this place.”
Kline felt responsible for not having recognized Von Chaillot’s true nature. Neither had she been able to anticipate Wolfren’s betrayal. Those two failures might very well lead to her dismissal. She didn’t want to imagine having to leave Jupiter-I or having to end her twenty-year career in this way.
“Well, I never said I was abandoning you,” Preda equivocated. He flashed a cynical smile. “You’ve enjoyed a very long tenure here. I just don’t want to see you have to step down dishonorably. If we act now, we can still pin this on Harding.”
“If someone has to take the fall, then we all do. It’s the only way I can live with myself.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“Look, there’s no sense in arguing over responsibility while the crisis continues. I don’t believe our experiments here are wrong, and I have no intention of ending them because we’ve failed. Think of how tragic that would be for all the Rounds born here. Think of the children that died in vain. As much as for myself as for the Rounds, I refuse to believe these experiments on Jupiter were meaningless.”
“Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt,” said Wagi. “What should we do with the bodies of the children? The Rounds refused my request to cryopreserve them so we might be able to find a cure. I’d like your opinion on the matter.”
“Let’s respect the Rounds’ wishes,” Kline responded instantly. “We don’t rule over the Rounds. Although I realize that isn’t the answer you wanted to hear.”
“Completely understandable,” said Wagi. “We should be able to extrapolate some data from the blood samples we collected from the children. Although I would have liked to record the general condition of the bodies.” Wagi swept one hand through his disheveled hair and slowly got up from the sofa. “Well, it’s time this quack went back to the special district to be the Rounds’ whipping boy.”
2
JUST AS HARDING was putting on his hazmat suit, he had received a call from Shirosaki on his implant.
“We need to talk,” said Shirosaki.
“Later. I’m on break. I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” Harding answered, pulling up the padded gloves around his wrists.
“How much later?”
“Give me half an hour.”
Harding ended the transmission and headed for the special district. After ordering the security guard to open the access door, Harding drew the hood of the hazmat suit over his head.
When the door slid open, the air blew inward toward the negative-pressure environment of the special district.
Harding stepped inside. This was his first visit in quite some time. How many months had passed since he’d stopped coming here?
Walking down the familiar path he’d used many times before, Harding made his way toward the assembly hall.
He peered inside to see the medical staff, dressed in the same protective gear Harding wore, busy unloading various supplies. How much of Jupiter-I’s store of intravenous fluids, fever reducers, anti-inflammatories, and antiviral drugs had been depleted? Would they be able to hold out until the cargo vessel brought in new supplies?
The cots filling the hall looked to be reserved for the most serious cases. Harding could not help but grimace. The patients lying on the cots were all children, ranging in age from toddler to adolescent. Feverish and dehydrated, they were hooked up to fluid pumps and receiving oxygen through masks.
The adult Rounds looking after them looked more stricken than the children—not because they felt sick, but because they felt guilty for being better off than the children. Some of them wept for want of taking the children’s place and were being consoled by the medical staff.
Harding looked for Veritas and eir child. He spotted em with the child—the infant lying on a cot in the b
ack of the assembly hall—and weaved his way past the others toward them.
Noticing someone approaching, Veritas looked up at the familiar face shrouded beneath the hood of the environmental suit and immediately became flushed with anger. “What are you doing here? You and I can’t see each other anymore.”
“I wanted to see if you were all right. The medical reports don’t tell me anything.”
“You’ve been shunned by the Round community. Whatever your reasons, you can’t come here.”
“If you don’t like that I’m here, fine. Hit me—kill me. Round up a lynch mob if you want, I don’t care.”
“Why now?”
“I was worried about how you were doing,” Harding said.
“How do you think I’m doing? I’ve been taking fever reducers and antiviral medicine.”
“I know that. I just wanted to know how sick you were.” Then he looked down at the tiny figure lying in bed. “How is ey?”
“Eir condition isn’t as bad as the others. Ey must get eir toughness from eir other parent. Eir fever was high for a while, but it began to go down about an hour ago. The doctor says it’s a sign that whatever this thing is will go into remission.”
“Good. Glad to hear it.”
“Ey’s not your child. I wish you wouldn’t talk as if you know em. Gives me the creeps.”
Harding stared gravely at the child.
“Now if you’re done here, I’d like you to leave,” Veritas said, raising eir voice irritably. “Everyone here is on edge after the infant deaths. If they find you, a lynching isn’t out of the question.”
“I’d like to stay a little longer.”
“Why?” Veritas said.
“I just need a minute. Being in the residential district is making me crazy. When I see Karina, I want to break her neck.”
“Why don’t you? You should kill her. Nothing would make us happier.”
“We can’t. Karina is holding the information about the agent that’s infected all of you and is using it as a bargaining chip. Until we find out what she’s hiding, my hands are tied.”
“Why don’t you make her talk? That’s what you’re good at.”
“She refuses to talk,” said Harding, shaking his head. “She’s been playing for time, and putting her body through a whole lot of hurt at the same time.”