He shrugged. “Worms?” he asked.
She pointed to her throat and nose. His right eye zoomed in. he could see tiny hair like worms sticking out of her nose like errant nose hair. A bio scan found more of them. “No, why do you have them?”
“Parasite,” she coughed, one hand going to her mouth. “Best be careful young sir, you don't want them yourself,” she said.
“Analyzing,” Sprite reported. “I have it.” A report came up on his HUD. He scowled. The worm was one of the few creatures that were actually native to the planet's ecosystem. Apparently they had existed under the ice before the planet had been terraformed. Terraforming had just allowed them to spread far and wide. The oceans and waterways of Epsilon were contaminated by the parasitic worm, it attached itself to their gills and then grew until they suffocated the host.
“I'm sorry, I didn't know,” Irons said softly. She shrugged and moved on to her task.
“Can anything be done?” the admiral asked.
“No, not on the surface admiral,” Sprite responded. She was still searching for links about the parasite. It was frustratingly slow to gain access to any sources on the planet.
“From what I understand the worms are mainly in depths below ten meters. From their life cycle they are seasonal, hatching from eggs and drifting to near the surface during warm months such as now. Those who get into the water... admiral they know they will eventually die from this parasite.”
"My… why then? Why go back?”
“The call of the sea admiral?” Sprite asked, highlighting a genie. That one was like a mermaid, but with a dolphin tail and flukes instead of a fish tail. The being stayed in the shallows, away from the nets. Others were nearby, sporting and doing flips in deeper water. “Besides, they have no other place to go.”
Some of the people on the beach further away were watching them. Children pointed to their antics. He looked around, watching them and then sighed. He turned to a nearby male with a purple and yellow crest on his head. “Sir, is there a cure to the worms?” he asked.
The man looked at him, setting his trident into the sand. His Naga tail coiled under him, supporting his upright body. He shook his head mutely. “The only known cure is to go to a hot dry climate for a year or longer. The lack of water in the air will starve the worm larva killing it,” the male said with a curious echo to his voice. His nasal passages and his throat sack made him look and sound like he had a bass echo. “But those who try... many will also sicken from the lack of water... the people who were desperate enough to try it did so, but many have died over the centuries.”
“I'm sorry,” the admiral said, sighing.
“Not your fault landie, our problem,” the being said in a high pitched voice. He slithered away with his Naga tail.
Irons scanned a nearby woman. She was picking at a net with long webbed fingers. Her finger tips ended in claws. These she used to work the fibers into a tight weave before knotting them off. He nodded to her. She turned away, unsure of the interloper.
He was getting that a lot. They didn't say anything to him, just gave him questioning or dirty looks. Some were confused, others amused by his bravado. Sprite processed the scan and then put the results on his HUD without comment. He discovered that the worms were also in their lungs, attaching themselves to the alveoli. As they aged and grew the host body sensed their intrusion and flooded the lungs with fluid. It was a form of dry drowning. Unfortunately the body's response was bad, in flooding the lungs with fluid it induced the larva to grow explosively. They hacked and coughed and eventually died from infection.
The people seemed a bit stand offish, he could feel a vibe there, an isolation vibe. Normal Terrans apparently avoided them as much as possible, treating them as lepers. It was sad, prudent maybe, but sad.
There was apparent trade though, men and women met near the high tide line and traded goods. Seaweed, shells, crustaceans, fish, oysters, and other sea animals were rapidly being traded to the eager people there. From the look of it though the sea people were getting the raw end of the deal, getting simple tools and weapons, nets, and some food. The metals were basic iron, a stupid thing. They would begin to rust in hours upon entering the water, and they would be gone in months.
“I take it no one has heard of stainless steel around here? Or other alloys? What about using copper or beryllium? Or brass?” the admiral asked, aghast.
“Apparently not,” Sprite replied.
“Yeah, guess not,” Irons replied in disgust. He overheard the human and Neo venders as they returned to the docks. Some were happy with the trade. They made out ten to one in the deal according to one older man.
“I'm wondering if the otters and other creatures that go swimming get this,” Sprite mused.
“Maybe,” Irons replied, looking the people over. Some were working the nets, others were in the docks working on removing barnacles. He wasn't sure if he could admire their stubborn tenacity, or shake his head over their stupidity. Either way, living here was brave... but foolish. “What parent would want this for their child?” he asked.
“I don't know admiral. I'm not sure we can find something to help them either,” Sprite replied.
“Oh there has to be a way, we're just not looking hard enough.”
“Well, as it happens neither one of us are cut out for something like this admiral,” Sprite reminded him. “We may not find a cure. Sometimes there aren't any simple answers admiral,” Sprite said softly.
“True. I'd like to find something though. I wonder if any of these people went off world?” he asked thoughtfully.
“I... I have no way of checking that. I would hope not though,” Sprite replied. He grunted in question. “Think about it admiral, if they did, they'd carry the contamination with them wherever they went.”
“True, but any travel time would starve the worms of hydration possibly killing them,” he said.
“Or they could migrate through the body into areas that had a form of water. The bladder or the colon. Both are frequently infected with these things too you know,” Sprite reminded him.
He shivered. “Remind me not to go swimming here,” he said, eying the water. He winced at the sight of children diving off the end of the pier.
...*...*...*...*...
Just before lunch Irons spotted one of his feline tails on the wharf a hundred meters away pointing in his general direction. His sensors identified the being in the shadows with her and he swore.
“I'm not even going to say I'm happy to see him,” Sprite responded. Irons grunted. He had a choice to make about Ole Blue, with the population here he didn't want or need a fire fight. “There's no way out admiral, no way but through. And there are a lot of innocents nearby,” Sprite said, pointing out all the shoppers visiting the fish market nearby.
The admiral grunted. He turned to the sea. “There is one way,” he said, not happy about the idea.
“And you just said to remind you not to go swimming,” Sprite said.
“I know. Duly noted. Crank the nanites and shields up to full Commander, we're going for a dip.”
“You are running from him?” Sprite asked, surprised.
“Let's just say I'm biding my time and picking my battlefields commander.”
The Veraxin sauntered in his direction but avoided a confrontation after Irons entered the water with the genies. “Another time perhaps,” Blue rasped, adjusting his fedora and moving on. “There will be other times my beauties,” he said, patting his six shooters. People around him got out of his way as he walked steadily away from the wharf. The two cats stood on a pier pylon, twitching their whiskers in disgust at all that wet stuff the admiral was in.
...*...*...*...*...
“You're a fool for being here lubber,” a blue skinned woman said, splashing near him. “Though we respect your bravery. Foolish though, you should go in,” she said. “You're not dressed for this,” she said.
“True,” the admiral replied, looking down at his uniform. “Irons
, admiral Irons.”
“You some nut?” she asked. He snorted softly. He could feel his nanites killing the tiny worms. It felt like he had ants crawling all over his body, not a pleasant sensation.
“I'm the real deal. Fleet Admiral John Irons, Federation Navy. I'm a sleeper,” he said.
“Ah,” she said, catching a net being hauled in. he grabbed it as well and started hauling. She grunted in appreciation but didn't say anything.
They worked in companionable silence for a few minutes as they gathered the full net in. It was tough, you needed a strong grip to not only fight the growing undertow but also the net filled with flapping fish trying to escape. For him it didn't bother him, but he knew she was pretty tired.
She had blue skin, it glittered a bit like fish scales. Black hair, long webbed fingers and toes. She had a blue cobra industries wet suit on, most likely a relic since Sprite hadn't mentioned them in her briefing. The red hooded cobra symbol covering her bosom reminded him of something from the past. The suit must have been old, he could see a few patched cuts in the fabric, but it too glittered with layers in it.
“Thanks,” she said nodding to him.
“No problem,” the admiral replied, smiling.
“Mara, my name is Mara,” the woman said and coughed. “I've seen you around. The others said you ask all sorts of questions about the worms.”
“I'm concerned about them actually.”
“Well, you aren't the first, but you are the first interested in doing something,” she replied. “Here, let me get that,” she said, pointing to a red and purple spined urchin that had attached itself to the admiral's uniform. She used a piece of sea weed to get it off. She dropped it into a jar a female Naga held up to her. “The Asian community loves those things,” she shivered.
“Oh?”
“It's poisonous. Something like the puffer fish, but not as fast. They said something about the kiss of death making you appreciate life,” she said.
“Takes all kinds,” the admiral replied.
“Whatever. It's ten creds a kilo, so it's okay for us. But if someone steps on it...” she winced. He nodded.
“It puts a zing in their peckers,” she said. He had to chuckle at her salty humor.
“But you weren't afraid of it? Ignorance really is bliss,” she said with a smile as she finger combed her wet bangs out of her eyes.
“No, I'm immune,” the admiral replied.
“Nothing fazes you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Nope,” he replied with a Gaelic shrug.
“Oh. That sort of takes the fun out of life. No fear.”
“A little,” the admiral replied. He applied a bit of energy to his uniform. The coverall shed the water like a duck's oily feathers. Water beaded and dripped from him as if he was sweating. In a moment he was dry.
“Nice, she said, eying his uniform in appreciation.
“I like yours too,” he said.
She looked down at it, seeming to preen. She ran a hand through her hair, uncovering an ear. “This old thing?”
“The suit, a relic from the past?” he asked. She nodded. “Hand me down?” she nodded again.
“So your people were here before. How did they treat the worms?” he asked. “I'm not getting that many answers from the others, most just shrug or say they don't know.”
“Nanotech,” the woman replied. She held her nose and blew air. Water dribbled out of her gill slits on the sides of her neck and on her torso. “Our ancestors used a nanite screen to filter out the parasites.”
“Ah,” the admiral replied, nodding. “So you need some.”
“No one makes any,” she laughed, shaking her hair out.
“You have no fear of them? Of having nanites?” he asked. She shook her head no.
“I'm not sure if I can make a nanite filter. It...” he cocked his head. “Proteus?” he asked.
“No Admiral, no such device is in the files,” the AI answered.
“It might be a proprietary design by Cobra industries before the war,” Sprite interjected. The admiral frowned. He turned to Mara. “Do you have one left? Even if it doesn't work...” she shook her head.
“Sadly no,” she sighed and then coughed. “We traded them when they stopped working many years ago. They are most likely melted down by now.”
“Ouch,” the admiral said.
“Why do you ask?” she asked.
“Because I don't have one in my inventory files. It must be a proprietary device. If I could study one I might be able to replicate it.”
“Oh,” the woman replied, now studying him in renewed interest. “You are an odd landie, you actually seem to care.”
“That's because I actually do,” the admiral replied, smiling. “It's not right to lose generations to this damn parasite.”
“Tell me about it,” she sighed. “But that's how it is,” she said shaking her head.
“Not if I can help it. I can get you a regen tank. That's not a problem, but the medical nanites needed for it might be. I'll have to research that,” Irons said.
“It wouldn't do us any good here in the sea,” she said indicating the ocean. “Most of my people can't get out of the water. The ones you see are just those that can.”
“Or those that chance the beach in order to do a task,” the admiral replied with a nod towards a whale merman pulling a barge in. She turned to the indicated person and then nodded.
“Yes, they usually do that at high tide. We tie the barge off to a post and when the tide drops the humans come and take the goods off,” she said.
“You know you are being stiffed there right?” he asked. She shrugged.
“There is nothing we can do about it.”
“But there is something I can do about it. I can help them make the tools out of metals that won’t rust in the ocean. Brass...”
“Is nice admiral. Copper too, but copper costs, far more than iron. We'll 'make due',” Mara said with quiet pride. “We always have.”
Irons asked her why her ancestors did this to themselves. She shrugged the question off. “Why not?” He looked at her pointedly but silently telling her with his body language that that answer wasn't good enough. She shrugged again and looked away. “The money really, I don't know why they didn't hire a sentient alien water dweller, a dolphin or whatever. Robots maybe. They would have been better, smarter. For some reason they wanted my ancestors for the job.”
“Doing underwater repair work?”
She nodded. “And research on the beds. Also working the farms. There might have been some bigotry involved, who knows. For that matter who cares? They are long dead now after all.”
He nodded. She smiled. “Have you considered emigrating?” he asked as she sank into the sand. They sat resting.
Her face fell a little. “It's not the expense mind you, it's the thought of transporting the worms somewhere else. I can't do that. I don't know if there are others out there, but they deserve a life without these things,” she grimaced, one hand going to her midriff.
“You're talking about Selkie and others. As far as I know there is only one surviving Ssilli and no uplifted dolphins. I don't know of any other water dwellers left.” Irons said sadly. He shrugged at her expression and then grimaced at her continuous look. “Other than you and your people I mean.”
“Thanks.”
“There are so many different kinds of genies here. Some more human than others,” he observed.
“We're all human,” Mara said, eyes flickering in annoyance.
“Sorry, no offense, I know that. I'm not prejudiced or anything. I'm curious though, could you, if you had the choice of being reforged by a Ynari, would you take it?”
She looked thoughtful for a long moment. “You mean live without the sea?” she finally asked softly. He nodded. “And miss its' call?” he nodded again. She shook her head. “No, I could never do it, the sea is like a lover to me, good or bad.”
“I understand,” the admiral replied soft
ly.
“Do you? Do you landie?” she asked.
He smiled. “I'm a spacer born and bred. Being trapped in a gravity well for the rest of my life?” he shuddered and shook his head no. Slowly she nodded.
“Did they make changes to your inner ear?”
She shifted about to get more comfortable, folding her arms over one another to form a pillow and then resting her chin on that headrest. She was on her belly, bare feet being lapped by the waves. He sat on his rear, legs outstretched, propped up on his elbows beside her. She didn't say anything for a long moment. “We lost a lot of our history. It's hard to keep records, everything was oral for so long after the war,” she said. He nodded. “I think so. I... see apparently the company,” she tapped her chest logo. “The company owned some sort of resort too. Part of my ancestor's job was to work there and entertain. They had a thing for mermaids. My legs can lock together to form a tail.”
“Huh,” he said. That explained some of the colors he thought.
“Some of us who don't have a whale tail use straps to keep them together when we're in the water for long periods of time. I've got a few cousins that have long webbed fingers and toes,” she grimaced, looking away momentarily.
“What?” Irons asked.
“In...” she sighed. “In order to fit in on land, to even get about some of them have their toes and fingers amputated as children. As babies. They cut all but the first knuckle off. It's the only way for some.”
The admiral sighed, closing his eyes. His ample imagination could see that, and the heart rendering decision that must be. The pain involved, and the pain in the child in being so mutilated at such a young age. “That's terrible,” he said softly. “I... If I can help I will.”
“What can you do?”
“You'd be surprised,” the admiral smiled. “I'm still curious about your inner ear. Do you have that change as well?”
“Some,” Mara finally admitted with a shrug. “I don't know all the details.”
The admiral looked thoughtful for a long moment. “Do you think you could pilot a ship?”
“A ship?” she asked, turning to him in surprise. Wide eyes stared at him. He smiled politely. “Why?” she asked suspiciously.
Plague Planet (The Wandering Engineer) Page 17