Shivering World

by Kathy Tyers

  A wind of whispers swept the cafeteria. The idea of closure was panic seed. If they recognized Novia, there could be a stampede back toward the cafeteria’s fanfold doors.

  As a matter of fact, the other offworld “tech” had moved backward into the corridor. To Graysha, he looked as if he were guarding it. If that man wasn’t an EB nettech, she’d never met one.

  Dr. Hauwk stood up. Graysha backed a few steps away. The floor leading over to her table was so tightly packed that she decided to stand her place. She pressed her palms together to keep her hands from shaking.

  Hauwk cleared her throat. “I am authorized to initiate closure if it proves necessary. Consortium finances have necessitated cutbacks during this fiscal annum, and closure of the Goddard project has been suggested all along. Dr. Brady-­Phillips, would you show me that growth curve again?”

  Graysha handed over the hard copy, then recollected her wits. “I have an inhibition experiment underway, Supervisor Hauwk. I should have results in less than a day. Please don’t make a hasty decision.” Avoiding Lee’s dark stare and any hint of a glance toward Novia, she started worming her way back toward her table, then spotted Jirina—closer to Lindon—and changed direction.

  “As I thought,” said the system supervisor’s voice behind her, and Graysha turned sideways to watch the room’s front while pushing toward Jirina. “Interception of the gaeaii organism crosses the curve of chlorofluorocarbon destruction at such an early point that raw materials will be a limiting factor.”

  Before Graysha could challenge Hauwk’s obviously foregone conclusion, Lindon stepped forward. Graysha paused, admiring his poise, then pushed closer to Jirina as he started to speak. “Dr. Hauwk, in the same vicinity as the boron source Vice-­Chair VandenNeill mentioned, crystalline carbon sources have been discovered. Those raw materials could give us a substantial head start toward restoring the planetary greenhouse. Admittedly they would not entirely replace depleted chlorofluorocarbons, but are we willing—”

  Flora Hauwk dipped her chin and cut him off. “You must understand, sir, that I am asking neither advice nor input from Colonial Affairs. All of you have been allowed to witness this session simply to ensure that you understand precisely how and why Gaea is making its decision.”

  That explained why they weren’t calling for Ari. Reaching the bench beside her friend, Graysha wedged into place and reached toward Jirina’s arm.

  Hauwk waved a sheaf of papers. “This details what we feel would be the simplest, most economical procedure for relocation of Goddard colonists. We offer you the best we possibly can. Property in Galileo Habitat.”

  “If this is intended as a rescue, we would prefer to remain on Goddard.” Lindon’s face went pale against the gray wool, but his voice remained steady. He could have no idea who stood in the doorway. “Have we no freedom, no say in the matter? Abandoning our work, our efforts, and a beautiful world we are making our home—”

  “You signed a contract.” Blase LZalle crossed his arms. “Your rights and freedoms are spelled out there, and your legal status, too. We investors want the best return for our money, within our own lifetimes. We want to see energy and resources that might be wasted here put to better use. Such as finishing work on Venera.”

  The chant at the back started again, “Blase, Blase, Blase,” but other colonists shushed the youngsters—angrily, this time.

  LZalle raised an arm. “Buy my vidis if you want to hear me sing. Quiet down.”

  “You’ve been promised a percentage of boron profits already, Mr. LZalle.” Lindon spoke quietly, but in the silence following Blase’s outburst, Graysha heard every word. “Two percent, I believe, if you’ll help with off-­world marketing. There’s enough wealth in that strike that I think you might find it worth maintaining an investment on Goddard.”

  “So he said.” LZalle turned around, obviously looking for Trev. “I want ten.” LZalle looked Lindon up and down, as if trying to decide whether Lindon were worth noticing. “Ten at least, and custody of my son. Where did he go?”

  Graysha finally managed to nudge Jirina’s arm. “Please,” she whispered, “you’ve got to do me a favor.”

  “Name it, Blondie.” Jirina leaned close, turning her head aside. “These people are pigs.”

  “Get to Lindon the next time he’s off center stage. Tell him that so-­called tech in the green pullover is my mother, and she’s got EB staff with her. But he mustn’t use—”

  Jirina’s eyes widened to show white all around. “Your mother? The famous—”

  “Yes,” Graysha hissed. “But he can’t use the net for messages. She’s sure to have it monitored.”

  “Oh my. All right, Blondie. Watch this.” The long-­limbed virologist flowed off their bench like liquid, then edged backward between seated colonists. A woman sprang up from the floor to take Jirina’s place on the bench.

  “I’m going to read over these contracts,” Blase LZalle was saying. “I need an hour. Alone. With Trevarre.” He raised his voice. “Trev, this is your only chance, and I think you know what I mean.”

  “Where are you, Mr. LZalle?” called Flora Hauwk.

  Blase spotted Graysha. “Where is he?” he demanded.

  Graysha shrugged. Knowing Trev, he might be halfway across the colony by now. Flora Hauwk was speaking softly with Taidje FreeLand and Melantha Lee, both of whom gestured emphatically.

  Finally Hauwk spread her hands. “Gentlemen, women, obviously no decision can be reached at this moment. I shall speak with colonial leadership about these alleged new resources. A further announcement will be made later this afternoon, or possibly this evening.”

  Graysha, eyeing Lindon, saw someone jostle him from behind. His head turned. He backed toward the standing press.

  ―――

  “What is it?” Lindon whispered. “How can I help you, Dr. Suleiman?”

  The graceful woman bent close. “Graysha’s mother,” she whispered. “That tech in the green pullover. Blondie told me to warn you.”

  Lindon glanced at the “tech” again . . . and darkness closed in at the edge of his vision. There was no mistaking that face. All thoughts of prosecuting Varberg and Lee fled. He had bigger worries. “The commissioner,” he muttered.

  “Correct. Graysha says not to use net messages to get word out. It’ll be monitored.”

  “Got it. Thank you.” Lindon looked up over his shoulder. The tall virologist’s eyes sparkled with mischief. Lindon inclined his head toward the kitchens. “Ari needs to be warned, at the D-­group office. I’m going to try signaling her over a vidi link. But would you be willing to slip out the back way?”

  Her voice was as rich as strong coffee. “Only because I care for the blond woman, pretty boy. And because she cares for you.” Dr. Suleiman melted into the crowd.

  Taking deep, slow breaths, he looked aside. Kenn and Taidje were too distant to alert them unnoticed.

  Ari’s D-­group had wired a vidi pickup into this cafeteria weeks ago. He turned to face directly into the lens. Novia, he mouthed. Novia is here.

  ―――

  Novia tried not to breathe too deeply, and she hoped nasal fatigue would set in soon. She had never smelled such fetid air.

  It went against her instincts to let the meeting disperse, with so many of them contained so closely—including most of the local leadership—but as Hauwk said, they must avoid all suspicion until the last possible moment, for their own safety’s sake.

  Graysha’s, too. As soon as the colonists knew she was here, the girl’s situation would become precarious.

  Jambling touched her arm. “Thought you’d like to know,” he muttered as they backed together against a concrete wall, “that the word is out.”

  “That was fast,” Novia whispered. “How?”

  Jambling tucked a com into one of his pockets. “There’s a visual monitor up under the eaves. I just saw it swivel toward you.”

  Graysha was already in danger, then. “Get to Graysha’s room. Get it ready.
Then load a copter with those missiles and head north for Port Arbor. While you’re en route, I’ll talk to my daughter.”

  ―――

  As the meeting dispersed, Graysha stayed close to Thaddeus Urbansky. “Gaea station personnel,” Melantha Lee called over the hubbub, “back to work, please. I’d recommend you organize your materials and record whatever loose notes you’ve been keeping on the net. Call it housecleaning.”

  That sounded to Graysha like the first step of closing up shop. She kept to the crowd’s quickly moving left side, pressing forward until someone clutched her arm.

  She looked into her mother’s face. Her throat constricted.

  “Graysha,” Novia murmured, shifting her grip to squeeze Graysha’s hand, “it’s so good to see you. Hush, now. We’re safer if you stay quiet.” She pulled Graysha deeper into the Gaea housing wing, farther from the colonists. Graysha went along, unable to think of any plan beyond keeping Novia away from Lindon—and praying Ari’s D-­group would somehow cope. “So good to see you.” Novia’s gushing sounded false. “And it’s been so long. How have you been?”

  “Up and down.” She longed to confront her mother, but she couldn’t think of a single probing question. She hated herself for her inability to take the offense. Besides, Novia had probably stripped the med-­op database en route to Goddard. She undoubtedly knew about Graysha’s recent hospitalization.

  “I’m glad to see you already up again,” Novia said, confirming her thoughts. “Could we go to your room and talk?”

  Graysha’s heart thumped like an upside cultivator. Finally she made an effort to assert herself. “I’m awfully busy,” she said. “Come up to my lab. It’s a good place for a chat. I can show you what I’ve been doing.” Or was that such a good idea?

  Novia didn’t change direction. Still clutching Graysha’s hand, she walked on up the corridor.

  Graysha tried feigning stupidity. “It’s a shock to see you here, dressed like that. Don’t you want the colonists to know you’re here?”

  “I’m still secret. For the moment,” Novia whispered. She was practically running Graysha along, keeping close to the corridor’s edge.

  Making sure I don’t alert anyone? Thank goodness it was too late for that. Lindon would have a chance.

  Novia stopped in front of her apartment. Graysha unlocked it and gestured Novia to her single desk chair but didn’t close the door. “You’ve been busy, then?” Graysha asked, sitting down on the bedside. “How is everyone?”

  “Busy, yes. Everyone is fine. Your father is as busy as ever. Why haven’t you written? Not even a quick note over Gaea net.”

  “Busy here, too,” Graysha murmured cautiously. “I’m sorry.” All right, Mother. What is it you really want?

  “You could at least have written home. After all, I am the one who got you this job in the first place.” Novia raised her head.

  Graysha’s blood changed to ice water. “You did?”

  Her mother’s mouth lost its firm line, and her eyebrows lifted sadly. “We’ve suspected the Lwuites of genefect healing for several terrannums. As I hoped things would turn out, they would have implanted infective probes in you, and then investigation would have proceeded. As things actually happened, Dr. Varberg precipitated an early move on Gaea’s part by demanding passage offworld. Gaea had to send a shuttle. I couldn’t delay it.”

  In that moment, Graysha could have strangled Varberg. Horrified, she seized her mother’s hand. “I’m sure you . . . thought you . . . meant the best for me.” She imagined herself cut open and displayed before the Eugenics Board. Exhibit A: Graysha Brady-­Phillips.

  Novia squeezed her fingers. “They haven’t done it, I assume.”

  “No. I’m all right, Mother, but this is a shock.”

  “I’m sorry. I truly tried, Graysha. But now we must get you off Goddard.” A smile, a final squeeze, and then Novia dropped her hand. “I’m still surprised you never took the time to send me a few lines.”

  How much was it safe to say? She hadn’t dared write. Even if she’d wanted to, the colonists would’ve blocked any attempt at contact, seeing that as incriminating evidence that—

  That the EB sent her here.

  No, God! A second revelation sent her reeling: Ari MaiJidda had been right all along. The Eugenics Board had sent her out as a lightning rod, hoping to draw illegal attention.

  And they’d succeeded. She knew far too much. She had to get away. She tried to speak calmly. “I hope you’ll have enough time to see the plantation while you’re here on Goddard. What they’ve . . . we’ve accomplished in the last two terrannums is nothing short of remarkable. Do come and see my lab. It’s very exciting.” She started to stand up.

  “No, sit down, sit down. Tell me about the colonists.”

  The gentle interlude was ending. Novia wanted answers.

  Leaning back to stroke Emmer on the pillow, Graysha asked, “What about them?”

  Novia’s voice soothed, full of calm sympathy. “Whatever it is that you know but you’re not reporting,” she said with a shrug calculated to minimize tension.

  Graysha knew those tactics. Boldly stated, the request negated all Novia’s sympathy. She had to distract Novia with some new tidbit of information. She had to buy Lindon—and Ari—time to do whatever they needed to do.

  If a D-­squad came here for Novia, Graysha would probably go down with her. Would the Lwuites do anything that aggressive?

  With Ari MaiJidda in charge? Of course!

  Stall, stall. Give Ari a chance. “It appears,” she said slowly, “that the work to protect their babies’ callosal axons is more important to them than any kind of unified religion.” She rambled for several minutes, mixing old data with harmless tidbits of new information and a few pure fabrications. “One of them even took me to a church service,” she said, smoothing her hair. Her arm felt stiff. “It was very ordinary.”

  “CUF?”

  “Something a little more antique.”

  Novia’s mouth began to curve upward. “Which colonist?”

  Graysha hesitated. Novia’s eyes narrowed. “The one,” Graysha said, “who brought up the new carbon find.”

  “Oh yes, DalLierx.” Novia scooted her chair closer to Graysha’s bed. “The one who was poisoned. Former colonial chair.” She rolled a hand over, indicating Graysha should keep speaking.

  She simply stared over Novia’s shoulder at the wall hanging. She’d said all she meant to say about Lindon.

  The silence stretched thin. Finally Novia pursed her lips. “I see,” she said quietly. “There has been a shift of loyalty, hasn’t there?”

  And how! She couldn’t have hoped to outfox Novia or stall the inevitable for long. “I’m sorry, Mother. That happens.”

  “Particularly when the new object of loyalty is young, widowed, and attractive.”

  Graysha bristled. “There’s far more to it than that.” Even as she said it, she wondered once more: Would she use him if he gave her the chance?

  “That creature is not human,” Novia retorted. “Has he touched you?”

  Incensed, Graysha curled her hands around her knees. “I am an adult, Mother. That is none of your business.”

  Novia shook a finger. “You’re just chasing something that doesn’t look like Ellard. Listen to me. Everything I did, I did for your own good. Your own good, child. I would appreciate a few words of gratitude.”

  Child? Gratitude? Something snapped inside Graysha, something stretched by Ellard’s betrayal and tightened by the months she’d spent planetside, working in an environment she’d thought would prove hostile. “You used me,” she exclaimed. “You used me without my knowledge and against my will. I did the best work for Gaea I possibly could have done, regardless of why I was sent here. I would appreciate an apology.”

  “Apology?” Novia sat upright with her hands on her thighs, feet pulled in beneath her, chin jutting forward. “I risked my position trying to get you healed, and you throw it in my face.”
<
br />   Furious, Graysha sprang to her feet and almost lost her balance. Her legs didn’t seem to be working right. She looked over her shoulder for something to throw, not at Novia but at the wall behind her—

  And spotted a black ball on her desktop’s edge. A lethargy field projector!

  In that instant, she realized Novia—or her nettech—had already been here, setting a trap. It made sense. Novia had walked straight to the apartment door without hesitating, without letting Graysha lead the way. She’d known where to take her.

  Graysha’s muscles sagged, but before Novia could react, Graysha seized the ball and flung it across the room. It smashed on smooth concrete. “Leave them alone,” she cried. “They haven’t harmed anyone. And don’t you dare use EB tactics on me!”

  Novia’s eyes widened, and her voice shook as she said, “You’re in danger here, Graysha love. Goddard’s medical facilities are antiquated. And the Lwuites will want revenge on you for the investigation, even though your part was not played deliberately. Do not trust DalLierx. He has been blocking your letters offworld. You must get offplanet quickly, and I’ll see that Gaea lets you out of your contract.”

  Lindon blocked her letters? No. Not him. “I am no longer your child.” Graysha estimated the distance to her open door. Slowed by the lethargy field, she couldn’t beat Novia . . . not for another half minute. “You can’t order me off Goddard. I’m a professional with work in progress.”

  “But Goddard’s ecosystem is failing. Gaea is ready to pull out.”

  Abruptly, Graysha remembered Novia’s bad knee. She could beat her to the door, maybe. And if Novia’s nettech wasn’t in here with them, she’d sent him elsewhere. What was he up to?

  Graysha shifted her feet. “It doesn’t have to fail. Melantha Lee may have given up, but I haven’t.”

  “It is far, far too dangerous here.” Novia stretched out a hand. “Sweet, you’ve been influenced by these people. Once you’re away from here, you’ll see everything more clearly.”