The Frozen Sky

by Jeff Carlson

  Then why do I feel like I’m dealing with the devil? Vonnie thought. I guess that makes Ash the devil.

  40.

  Vonnie took the data pad and Ash clapped her glove on Vonnie’s leg, an authoritative gesture like a judge banging her gavel to seal an agreement.

  “Don’t hate me,” Ash said.

  “I don’t.”

  “Von, you couldn’t fake how you feel if your life was on the line. Don’t ever play cards. That’s my advice. I know you’re cross with me, but you have to believe me when I say I want to be on your side.”

  “You did what seemed best to you. You shouldn’t feel bad.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Let me watch Dawson’s files.”

  “I don’t feel bad,” Ash said, still protesting.

  “I need a few minutes.”

  “Fine.” Ash left the jeep and stalked toward the lander, radiating a puzzled hurt with her tight, brisk, scissor steps.

  Vonnie smiled sadly, feeling branded by her own guilt. She’d definitely found the Achilles’ heel in Ash’s toughness. Friendship might be new to a girl trained almost from birth to rely solely on her mother, then an agency handler. Vonnie would have bet her teeth that Ash’s boss was a woman. Her personal history was too ripe. Her boss would use her dependencies as a goad and a leash.

  I want to be her sister, not her mom, Vonnie thought. She needs positive influences, not another commander. She’d reject me if I tried. But I think I’m getting through. Otherwise we wouldn’t have felt so stung by each other.

  Nearby, Ash walked up the lander’s steps and touched the air lock controls. The exterior door opened. She bolted inside.

  Vonnie looked at the sky again, wishing they didn’t need to spend so much energy manipulating each other. She plugged the data pad into a jack in her wrist. Her visor brought up a short menu of sims. The time stamps ranged from six days ago to yesterday.

  She opened the first file, which had been recorded from Dawson’s view of a group feed with fifteen people on Earth. Vonnie didn’t recognize them. The sim didn’t include a company patch, but Ash had filtched their identities by using voice keys and recognition software. She’d superimposed names, titles, and bio links.

  Ten of the strangers were mid-level executives with LifeNova, a prominent Dutch health services corporation. The rest were gene smiths. Got you, Vonnie thought, contemplating their faces with cool malice.

  Dawson was making a presentation. Two of the boxes in the group feed flickered with datastreams as he lectured. At the same time, the execs and gene smiths on Earth posted questions in an ongoing scroll. Their comments were out of sync with Dawson’s speech due to the lag in radio transmissions, but they’d uploaded an AI to his side to manage their remarks.

  As the sim began, the AI said, “Why would that be true?”

  “The sunfish appear more closely related to their primordial ancestors than we are to our predecessors on Earth,” Dawson said. “Bacteria like thermophiles and lithotrophs — heat lovers and rock eaters — were the earliest lifeforms on both worlds, but life on Europa appears to have made the leap from single-cell organisms to higher lifeforms in a shorter span. That’s how the sunfish maintained the ability to use iron to survive. Iron is one of their most prevalent catalysts.”

  The AI highlighted a manager’s comments. “Less technical, please,” it said.

  “Hydrothermal vents were probably the first environments to generate life on Europa,” Dawson said, “and volcanic eruptions release dissolved iron onto the ocean floor. Higher lifeforms like the sunfish retained that affinity for iron, but they can’t have more hemoglobin than us. That would turn their blood into sludge. They’d be too likely to die of strokes and heart attacks. So they use a mutated hemoglobin. It has extra iron atoms and additional twists compared to ours, which allows it to bond with a greater concentration of oxygen molecules.”

  “Again, less technical,” the AI said.

  Dawson was triumphant. “If we can fashion the same hyper intense hemoglobin in human beings, it would mean increased stamina and acuity, especially in combination with a second aspect of sunfish physiology. You’ll need both to reach the fullest potential.”

  “We’ve arranged to negotiate your contract,” the AI said.

  “I want royalties in addition to a secured position with your laboratories,” Dawson said. “In two years, every police force and military in the West will be using this gene tech. In five, it will be in construction and sports. I want a percentage.”

  “We will pay a flat fee.”

  “Nonsense.”

  “We will absorb the legal costs. We will absorb the research, development, manufacturing, and marketing costs. Your compensation is a flat fee in addition to a salaried five-year contract with option to renew.”

  “I’m the one skirting federal law.”

  “We recognize the risk inherent in your position and will reward it,” the AI said.

  “Perhaps you’d name an amount.”

  The AI superimposed two lines of text on the group feed, numbers that must have been predecided on Earth: €1,000,000.00 bonus, €325,000.00 annual sa.

  Dawson’s composure slipped. His eyes widened and his nostrils flared. Then he reverted to his normal mannerisms as a gentleman. “We can discuss this further without the AI,” he said smoothly. “I guarantee you’ll be impressed with my work.”

  “Explain the second half of your proposal,” the AI said.

  “Indeed.” Dawson opened a new datastream. “Sunfish are able to maintain body temperatures above that of the surrounding water or atmosphere due to a complicated heat exchange system between their muscles, digestive system, and blood vessels. They conserve and store heat like batteries. In duress, they release it. By raising their internal temperatures, they create spikes in reaction time. The heat also allows an increase in the absorption of nutrients. Combined with their mutated hemoglobin, these factors provide them with ’burst speed’ like tigers or sharks, except that the sunfish are able to sustain these bursts far, far longer than any Earth equivalent.”

  “You’re in possession of intact sunfish for our labs?”

  “I will be,” Dawson said.

  Vonnie shut off the sim. She’d seen enough. She tucked the data pad into a leg pocket and left the jeep, retracing Ash’s path to the lander.

  The sim couldn’t have been more damning. Dawson’s attitude toward the sunfish was based on raw arrogance.

  How did he intend to get past the government’s claim on Europa? Was that what the LifeNova executive meant by ’legal costs’? The ESA wasn’t equipped to design biotech on par with treatments developed by private corporations. Berlin could profit handsomely by licensing the rights to sunfish DNA, gaining much-needed cash which could be fed back to select companies in exchange for cutting edge, clandestine military applications. One hand washed the other. That was how society functioned.

  Vonnie climbed onto the lander’s deck and whacked her fist against the control panel for the air lock, opening the exterior door. She stepped in, then cycled the lock.

  I’ll give Dawson one chance to back off, she thought. Not for his sake. For the sunfish. It doesn’t sound like Koebsch or our top management will stop him. Swearing to cause a public uproar is the best shot I have left.

  What if they call my bluff?

  The inner door opened. Vonnie stepped inside the ready room and removed her pressure suit. Metzler ducked through the hatch as she stowed it in its locker. “Hey,” he said.

  Vonnie took his hand and squeezed. “Ben, you’re who I think you are, aren’t you?”

  He tried to joke. “Am I?”

  “Do you work for anyone besides the ESA?”

  His bulldog face turned serious. “I’m with you,” he said.

  Vonnie squeezed his hand again. “We have one more thing to do that’ll get us in trouble,” she said.

  “Fabulous.” His tone was happily sarcastic. He kissed her cheek, a
nd Vonnie turned to bring his lips to her mouth. Metzler hadn’t shaved since she’d seen him hours ago. His beard was dark sandpaper. The stubble felt rough and exciting.

  Inhaling sharply, Vonnie broke their kiss. Holding him, she whispered her plan.

  “I’ll do what I can,” he said.

  “Let’s go.”

  In the next compartment, Ash and Frerotte were locked in an argument behind a privacy screen, but he deactivated it when Vonnie entered. Ash turned and left the compartment for their living quarters, avoiding everyone’s eyes.

  “Where are the FNEE mecha?” Vonnie asked.

  “Closer by the second,” Frerotte said. “They’ll reach the sunfish colony in an hour if they’re not attacked.”

  That’s why Koebsch relieved me, Vonnie thought. He wanted me out of the way, where I couldn’t interfere. He wants a fight. If the FNEE and our probes are bloodied together, that will be another bond between us.

  “Where do you stand?” she asked Frerotte. “Do you support Koebsch on this?”

  “It’s… not fun to take. I’ve been fighting Chinese and FNEE assets most of my life, but Ash is right. The greater good comes first. If we can jockey an alliance with Brazil, we might get our troops out of Argentina and Ecuador. The Americans could stand down in Panama. We have to look at the larger picture.”

  “Then you don’t want to be a part of this call,” Vonnie said, activating her station. She held Ash’s data pad in her free hand. Before she turned it on, she added, “Thank you for helping me with Lam.”

  “You’re welcome,” Frerotte said.

  His station was busy with 3-D maps of the ice and Brazilian mecha. He stepped into his display as Vonnie raised her own privacy screen. Metzler took the station beside hers, and she expanded the privacy screen to include him.

  From the data pad, she selected an image from the sim of Dawson’s conversation with the LifeNova execs and gene smiths. Then she entered Dawson’s crew code.

  The old man answered with his false smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure—” he began. He glanced at the image behind her, taking in the labeled faces of the LifeNova personnel, but his recovery was swift and he chuckled. “I was told those broadcasts were encrypted, but this changes nothing.”

  “I thought you were offended when I asked if you’d been offered a fat salary,” Vonnie said.

  “I was. I am. Money isn’t why I’m doing this.”

  “Really?”

  “God’s truth.”

  “You looked pretty excited when they offered you a million right up front.”

  “The corporate brass don’t give credence to any project unless there are sums on the table, Von. It’s a show of integrity, that’s all.”

  “’Integrity.’ She laughed at him. “The public won’t see things that way. It looks like you sold out the biggest discovery of our lifetimes for your own gain. It looks like money is the only thing you want.”

  “Are you implying there will be a scandal?”

  “Indeed,” she said with all the venom she could muster. “Do you know how many people logged onto petitions calling for equal rights for the sunfish? If what you’re planning with LifeNova gets out, there will be lawsuits and boycotts—”

  “Your information is out of date,” Dawson said. “I wondered why you used an image from the LifeNova board. They withdrew their bid days ago.”

  “It’s the same whoever you’re working with.”

  “No, it’s not,” Dawson said.

  Beside her, Metzler tapped her hip and indicated his display. He’d been speeding through the other sims on Ash’s data pad. Now he slid three new images to her station. Ash had labeled the men and women in these group feeds, too. They worked for Japanese, French, and American interests — private gene tech companies like LifeNova.

  Vonnie shared the new images with Dawson and said, “You’ve been shopping for the highest price. You’re a liar and a mercenary.”

  “You’re a fool. Who gave you those sims?”

  “If I go public, I can make your life miserable. You’ll spend years in court. Activist groups will stalk you forever. You know how rabid some of them can be. You won’t be able to show your face online without someone hacking your feed or launching homemade SCPs. They’ll crucify you. That’s not the kind of attention any corporation wants.”

  “On the contrary, it’s splendid publicity when the lunatic fringe resorts to violence. Are you done with your little intimidation scheme?”

  “Somebody will stop you. Too much of the world believes the sunfish are intelligent.”

  “The world wants what we can deliver.”

  “Super soldiers and athletes are nothing new, Dawson. We don’t need to kill sunfish for that kind of gene tech.”

  He cocked his head, examining her. “Indeed, our military is interested,” he said. “I’ve encouraged the appropriate parties to take notice, but heightened speed and reflexes are secondary applications. The real promise is in longevity treatments.”

  Life extension, Vonnie thought, staring at the old man."Go ahead,” he said. “Shout to the news feeds that we’re developing sunfish proteins and DNA. Who doesn’t want to live another fifty years? Our research will lead to spectacular breakthroughs in reoxygenating aged tissues, organs, and bone marrow.”

  “But you’ll kill sunfish to do it.”

  “You only seem to have one note to play, Von. Move past it. I’m acting with the knowledge and support of Berlin, Washington, and Tokyo. If things progress as anticipated, we’ll include Brazil in our consortium soon enough.”

  Ash warned me, Vonnie thought. Damn it.

  There must have been sims of Dawson talking with government agencies as well as private gene corps, but Ash hadn’t been able to crack those files. If she had, would it have made any difference?

  “This isn’t over,” Vonnie said. “I want to talk to your contacts in Berlin or I’ll make as much noise as I can. Tell them! You don’t need living sunfish. We can find intact specimens frozen in the ice. It’s asinine to ruin the progress we’ve gained with the local colony.”

  “You’re incorrect,” Dawson said. “Dead sunfish won’t have the metabolic activity essential to our research. If they’re decomposed or crushed, they’ll be even more useless. There are also political considerations you’re missing.”

  “I know we want to work with Brazil. That doesn’t mean we can’t conduct search and salvage—”

  The floor vibrated.

  “What was that?” Metzler said. A delicate bass roar filtered through the lander. Oom. The sound was as ephemeral as a thought, but it repeated itself twice as the floor shimmied again.

  Boom. Oom.

  Alarms filled Vonnie’s station with red bars. The same alerts flashed on Dawson’s screen, creating a haze of targeting systems, threat analysis, and hull integrity checks. As his gaze flickered through the data, Dawson’s expression was pleased.

  “You bastard,” Vonnie said.

  Frerotte issued a Class 2 alert, overriding every data/comm channel in camp. “We’re tracking explosions almost directly below us at a range of two point three kilometers!” he said.

  Vonnie couldn’t access the links between the ESA and FNEE without Koebsch’s authorization, but she was able to open the datastreams from their spies near the sunfish colony. The spies’ radar signals were obstructed by tons of rock and ice — but using sonar, the spies were able to draw crude sims to estimate what they were hearing.

  Each explosion washed through the sims like an eraser, blanking parts of the spies’ calculations. Between these waves, the spies traced a maelstrom of gunfire, lesser vibrations, electromagnetic activity, and ultrasound.

  Vonnie watched in anguish as small dots pounced at two bulkier outlines. The spies identified the larger shapes as a digger and a gun platform.

  Twenty sunfish swarmed the rock overhead, screeching as they dodged twin streams of gatling fire. They were trying to pull down a section of the roof.

 
The Brazilians anticipated it. Their mecha spun aside as three packs of sunfish shoved chunks into the floor. The digger slapped two sunfish from the air with its cutting arms. Seconds later, the gun platform caught the groups above. The thunk thunk thunk thunk thunk of its bullets striking the rock turned to wetter, plopping sounds as seven sunfish came apart.

  Vonnie put her hand over her mouth. On her display, the sunfish and the mecha were monochromatic outlines. But when the dots representing the sunfish shattered, she remembered the visceral shock of blood and entrails.

  The sunfish were dying.

  Dawson wins, she thought. It’s happening. Oh God, it’s happening exactly like he wanted.

  She’d tried everything to keep her people on course. From the beginning, their mission’s objectives had been science and diplomacy — good, intellectual goals separate from the myopic demands of Earth.

  Until this morning, she’d thought she was succeeding in bringing the FNEE to her path. She’d thought they could move forward together. But even here, they weren’t far enough from their past. Maybe they never would be. The angel strived for better, but the ape corrupted.

  Once again they’d invented the destiny they wanted with their fear and their greed.

  The human race had found a new war inside the frozen sky.

  41.

  The fighting escalated as a third FNEE mecha plunged into the fray behind the sunfish, barricading any retreat. It was another digger. It cut one sunfish with its legs and swatted two more with its cutting arms.

  Before the digger leapt at the rest of the sunfish, it wedged an excavation charge into the cavern wall. If shoving the explosive stick into the rock made any sound, the noise went unheard beneath the gunfire, but the ESA spies picked up a new radio signal between the digger and the charge. The spies traced it to its source.

  “They’re going to blow the cavern if they—!” Vonnie quit shouting when she turned her head.

  Frerotte had altered his display to show Koebsch’s link with the Brazilians, revealing their sims. Had he forgotten his privacy screen or had he purposefully shut it off?