Peacekeeper Pathogen (Galactic Alliance Book 6)

by Doug Farren

  The explosion sent a high-pressure wave down the corridor along with a considerable amount of dust and rock. The pressure wave passed harmlessly into the facility doing nothing more than stirring up a great deal of dust. After waiting a few minutes for things to settle down, Tom and Lashpa made their way back to the entrance and finally out into the fading light. The area around the entrance had completely changed since they had entered the facility. The Orion was waiting for them on the landing zone which was now too small to accept both ships.

  Looking up, Tom saw Lashpa’s ship hovering only a few meters above. One of the landing struts conspicuously unretracted. Increasing the magnification of his eyes, Tom could see that the strut was bent out of shape.

  “What happened to the Krish?” Tom asked.

  “I was nearest the overhang during the explosion,” Krish explained. “A large boulder rolled off the top and hit me, applying enough force to partially collapse landing strut three. It also caused severe damage to Lashpa’s stateroom, food stores, and the kitchen area. I will be able to return to an Alliance shipyard, but Lashpa will not be able to remain with me during flight.”

  “Did any of my food survive?” Lashpa asked, sounding worried.

  “Yes,” the ship replied. “But those that remain will die as soon as I leave the atmosphere. The hull is split too badly to be easily repaired.”

  “Let’s get off this mountain,” Tom suggested. “When we get back to Namruit, we’ll transfer as much food as we can to my ship then send Krish off to Earth to get itself repaired.”

  “The Orion is not equipped to keep my food edible,” Lashpa pointed out.

  “You mean alive,” Tom said, trying to lighten things up. “Then we’ll see if Captain Orflen’s engineers can rig something.”

  “The Churva is a very capable ship,” Lashpa pointed out. “It might have the facilities to repair Krish well enough for me to return with him.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Tom said, heading for the Orion. Lashpa stood where she was and waited for her own ship to pull her inside with a tractor beam.

  As soon as he was out of his armor, Tom headed for the control center, plopped down in the chair, and was soon fast asleep.

  Chapter 15

  The sun was well below the horizon by the time Tom and Lashpa arrived at the outskirts of Namruit. Shortly after they landed, two electric cars left behind by the Purists pulled up and stopped a short distance from the ships. King Syan along with several other Mowry exited the vehicles.

  When they were 10 meters away, Krish activated one of his external speakers and said, “Good evening King Syan. How can I help you?”

  The Voice of Gwon-Go stopped and looked around. The only thing he could see in the glare of the car’s lights was the dark shape of the grounded spaceships. “I was told there were explosions and strange lights near the top of the Mountain of the Gods,” the King replied. “I was concerned and wanted to ask if you were okay.”

  “Tom and Lashpa are undamaged. They are currently sleeping. You are speaking to Lashpa’s ship.”

  “I’m glad to hear they’re fine and have returned safely,” King Syan replied. “We are anxious to learn of what they found on the Mountain of the Gods. Do you know if Peacekeeper Wilks intends on seeing me in the morning?”

  “He did not specifically tell me he would be doing so,” Krish said. “But Peacekeeper Wilks did make a promise to tell you what he found. I can only assume he intends to keep that promise.”

  “Please tell him he’s welcome to come to my office at any time.”

  “I will pass on the message. How did you hear about the explosions? The Mountain of the Gods is far from here.”

  “The cursed ones left many of their distance-talkers behind. We now use them to send information between nations.”

  “I understand. Have a good night King Syan.”

  “Thank you.”

  The ship continued to watch as the group entered their cars and returned to the city.

  The next morning, Tom woke up to an urgent message from Flothir.

  “Based on the results of recent tests,” Flothir said in the recorded message, “I’ve ordered a temporary quarantine of Gwon-Go. Anyone or anything that has been in contact with the surface must be decontaminated before being allowed to leave the system. Luckily, the Alliance has taken a minimalist approach with the Mowry and there are very few people on the surface these days. We’ll be setting up decontamination stations on Gwon-Go’s larger moon. It’s going to be a few weeks before the facility is operational.”

  “So we’re stuck here,” Tom said the moment the message ended.

  “Not entirely,” Orion replied. “We would be allowed to leave as long as we did not land on another planet or interact in person with another individual until myself and you have been decontaminated. Flothir granted all peacekeepers this exception knowing that the AIs such as myself will enforce this restriction.”

  “As far as I’m concerned,” Tom replied, “that still means we’re stuck here. Does that mean that Flothir will not be returning to the surface?”

  “His ship has already been contaminated. He’s been informed that you are awake and will be leaving the Churva soon.”

  Tom received the report of the king’s earlier visit while he was eating breakfast.

  “I plan on seeing him after talking to Flothir,” Tom told his ship. “If you can, please let him know.”

  “The Mowry are using the communication system the Purists left behind,” Orion replied. “I will use the system to inform him of your intent to visit.”

  “They may not understand how it works,” Tom said, picking up a chunk of his omelet. “But they sure didn’t hesitate to put our technology to work for them.”

  “It’s more efficient than sending messages using running animals or steamship.”

  “I’m worried about that,” Tom said. “The Mowry are becoming reliant on technology they don’t understand. This might cause them to lose the stimulus to advance their own understanding of the how things work.”

  “Are you suggesting the Alliance should leave Gwon-Go and allow the Mowry to develop on their own?”

  “I don’t know,” Tom admitted after a moment. “If what we know about the Mowry is true, they’ve been exposed to advanced technology for a very long time. They’ve done quite well since the Gwon suddenly left. But handing them technology they can use but not build could easily stifle their ingenuity. Maybe we should back off and allow them to advance at their own pace.”

  “The Gwon most likely never educated the Mowry,” Orion said. “They were their servants— slaves if you prefer to use a more accurate term. The sudden departure of the Gwon forced the Mowry to live on their own and, as you’ve pointed out, they’ve done quite well. Perhaps the Alliance should consider limiting what technology is given to the Mowry.”

  “But not until we figure out the origin of T11-N106. How long before Flothir gets here?”

  “He’s en route now and will arrive in about 20 minutes.”

  “Is Lashpa up?”

  “She’s been awake for several hours.”

  “Ask her to stop over.”

  A few minutes later, Lashpa walked into the ship’s mess as Tom was wiping up the last bits of his omelet with a thick piece of toast.

  “That doesn’t smell too bad,” she said, as she walked in.

  “Better than some of the stuff you eat! Speaking of your food, what are you planning on doing?”

  “The Churva is building a storage unit to hold my food containers,” Lashpa replied. “Captain Orflen is also looking into the possibility of repairing my ship. In case he is unable to do so, he’s ordered a stateroom to be modified to accommodate my needs.”

  “That’s very kind of him,” Tom said, putting his plate and silverware into the washer.

  “I didn’t give him much of a choice.”

  “You ordered him?”

  “No, but after I explained that I might have to live aboard hi
s ship for a few weeks he was more than willing to make the necessary modifications.”

  “I completely understand! So, what do you think we should do next? It’s obvious the Purists have gotten their hands on whatever was in that facility. If it’s capable of altering T11-N106, then we need to find out where they’ve taken it before they figure out how to turn the pathogen into a world-killing disease.”

  “We have no proof they actually found anything inside the facility,” Lashpa pointed out. “The evidence only indicates they searched the place and removed some of the larger pieces of equipment.”

  “I’m going under the assumption that they found something,” Tom said. “Flothir will be here soon. We need to get some more information concerning the quarantine as well as his opinion of what we should do next. It’s pretty crowded in here, let’s meet him outside.”

  “Not unless you want to get wet.”

  “You were dry when you walked in. Did the weather change that fast?”

  “I didn’t think you wanted me to arrive dripping wet and tracking mud all over your ship,” Lashpa replied. “I drove over.”

  “Does it ever stop raining here?” he asked.

  “This is the rainy season. I’m enjoying it. Your conference room is large enough and will suffice.”

  “Go ahead, I’ll meet you there after I get another cup of coffee.”

  A few minutes later, they continued their discussion in the ship’s conference room. “If the Purists did find something,” Lashpa said. “They would have taken it to a secret facility. There’s no telling where such a facility might be. It could be on Safa, but it also might be anywhere in the Alliance.”

  “It would have to be on a world where Terrans wouldn’t be noticed,” Tom said. “Come to think of it, Safa is still under a near blockade. Every ship that enters and leaves is inspected. Cargo and people are searched before being allowed to leave or enter. I doubt they’d be hiding it there.”

  “It could have been set up prior to the security measures being put in place.”

  Tom shook his head. “If I were in charge of finding a location to build a top secret bioweapons lab, I certainly wouldn’t put it on my home planet. I would set it up on a rock somewhere in space but close enough to a technologically advanced planet where I could get all the supplies I might need.”

  “There are thousands of such places.”

  “Well then, we’ll just have to figure out how to get the Purists to show us where it is.”

  “Flothir has arrived,” Orion informed them.

  “Let’s talk to Flothir and see if he has any ideas,” Tom suggested, standing up.

  The biomaster arrived about a minute later. Tom met him at the ramp and showed him where he could hang his raincoat.

  “Coffee?” Tom asked.

  “Do you have any hot chocolate?” Flothir replied.

  “I sure do. Lashpa’s in the conference room. I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

  A couple minutes later, Tom handed Flothir a cup of steaming hot chocolate, “What prompted you to order a quarantine?”

  Flothir took a tiny, slurping sip of his hot chocolate, before replying, “Now that we have a way to test for the presence of T11-N106 in the environment, I ordered that testing be done in the homes or quarters of those who’ve died from the disease as well as everything those individuals may have come in contact with. Some of those results came back early this morning and there’s a pattern. Tests from all over Gwon-Go have shown that the pathogen is abundant. Over 50 percent of the soil samples in populated areas have tested positive. A few of the air samples tested to date have also been positive. Thirty percent of the water samples have shown positive for small concentrations.”

  “So it’s everywhere,” Tom said.

  “Here, on Gwon-Go, yes,” Flothir replied. “But the farther you get from this planet, the less likely it is for T11-N106 to be found. We’ve also received more information concerning the travels of those who’ve died and all of their exposure can be traced back to Gwon-Go.”

  “What about Ferny Corbal,” Lashpa asked. “He never left Shandar.”

  “But his son did,” Flothir said. “He spent a great deal of time on Gwon-Go helping the Mowry after the Purists left. Most of the samples taken in Ferny’s house were negative except for those in the room where his son stayed. Based on the pattern of the results in Ferny Corbal’s home, it’s been determined that his son brought T11-N106 into the house through dirt and dust on the clothing he wore while on Gwon-Go. That’s how it’s being spread.”

  “So decontaminating our ships should be easy,” Tom said. “All we have to do is clean.”

  “Correct,” Flothir replied. “After a thorough cleaning, measures to prevent reintroduction of dirt or the tracking of dirt that might have been missed would have to be instituted.”

  “We have no idea how contagious T11-N106 is,” Lashpa said. “Those who’ve been infected, including us, could be spreading the disease throughout the Alliance.”

  Tom looked at Lashpa as if she had just told them they were all going to die a horrible death. Before he could say anything, Flothir said, “True, but finding and quarantining anyone who might have been exposed is now an impossibility. It’s out there, and there’s nothing we can do about it. Taking steps to prevent it from leaving here is about all we can do.”

  “You’re sure that Gwon-Go is the source?” Tom asked. Seeing Flothir nod his head, he asked, “So where’s it coming from?”

  “That’s where I’ll be focusing my investigation,” Flothir said. “Finding the source will be very difficult based on the fact that it mimics the host’s cells so well.”

  “It has to be excreted for it to be getting into the environment,” Lashpa said.

  “Correct,” Flothir replied. “And that will be how we’ll find the source.”

  “What have you learned about the Mowry?” Tom asked.

  “There’s no doubt,” Flothir replied, “that the Mowry have been genetically modified on a scale that nobody in the Alliance is capable of. There’s a very good chance that those who did this also created T11-N106. Hopefully, we’ll find some clues about them in the facility you discovered. I should also mention that I’m beginning to have doubts that T11-N106 is actually a bioweapon.”

  “What?” Tom said, sitting up straighter. “You were a firm believer in the bioweapon theory the last time we talked. What changed your mind?”

  “The fact that T11-N106 seems to be everywhere on this planet,” Flothir replied. “If it was a bioweapon, then it’s a very ineffective one.”

  “Then what the hell is it?” Tom asked. “We know how it kills, what else can it be?”

  “A tool,” Flothir replied, leaning back in his chair. “It might be what was used to genetically modify the Mowry. The fatal effect it has had on a few individuals could be the result of a malfunction of the organism’s RNA computer.”

  “A malfunction!” Tom said. Looking over at Lashpa, he could tell by the movements of her tail that she had come up with another possibility, one that worried her. “What are you thinking?” he asked her.

  “If the organism was designed to be benign until it was triggered to kill, it could serve as a powerful way to control a society,” she suggested.

  Flothir’s head flipped around so fast Tom was sure he heard a neck bone crack. “I never considered that possibility!” he replied. “It makes perfect sense too. If it’s easily transmissible, it could infect an entire population in only a few years. Since it doesn’t produce an immune response, it’s undetectable and untreatable. If there’s a simple way to trigger it into becoming fatal … well … it would certainly serve as a powerful threat.”

  “I hope you’re wrong,” Tom said. “If you’re right, we have a far bigger problem than we imagined.”

  “Let’s assume it’s true,” Lashpa said. “Given what you know about T11-N106, how hard do you think it would be to find the trigger?”

  “Given access to the RNA c
ode embedded in the organism and a knowledge of how such a computer actually works … fairly easy. But we all know how difficult that’s going to be given how the organism’s been designed.”

  “Orion, effective immediately all information concerning T11-N106 is to be considered as level one security access only,” Tom said.

  “Acknowledged. Shall I authorize Biomaster Flothir to have access to all future information?”

  “Of course,” Tom replied.

  “Biomaster Flothir is also allowed to authorize specific biomasters to have access to information regarding T11-N106,” Lashpa added.

  “Does this classification extend to all tests for T11-N106?” Orion asked.

  Both Tom and Lashpa looked at Flothir. “Too many people already know how to perform the testing,” he replied. “The only thing that should be classified is the genetic code built into the pathogen.”

  “We should have classified this a lot sooner,” Tom said, sounding annoyed.

  “Doing so would have hampered our investigation,” Flothir replied. “If you wish, I can write up a detailed description of just what should be classified.”

  “Please do so,” Lashpa told him.

  “We must find out what was inside that facility,” Tom said. “If this is where T11-N106 was developed, then there’s a high probability that the Purists are working at finding the trigger.”

  “They will also need to find a way to produce it and inject it into a planet’s ecosystem,” Flothir said. “At the present time, the only known source is on Gwon-Go.”

  “Unless the Purists figured it out and found the source,” Tom said. “As far as we know, they could be producing tons of the stuff right now.”

  “If they found it, then so can we,” Flothir said. “We have one of the most advanced science vessels in the Alliance in orbit and I intend to use all of its vast resources to find an answer to this problem.”

  “We need to have another talk with the Voice of Gwon-Go,” Tom said. “I made a promise to tell him about what we found.”

  “May I accompany you?” Flothir asked. “He might have some information to help us narrow down our search.”