by Jim Rudnick
Tanner looked at him and then smiled.
"Fine, Doctor, then me—I am Tanner Scott, captain of the Barony ship the Atlas, and I'm here for my own ninety-day observation as it appears that one night after too many beers, I beat up and badly hurt eight Caliphate marines. One to eight—about the right numbers, in my navy. After this vacation, I'll be back in court, pay my fines, and then back in the captain's chair on the Atlas. So for me, this is just a time-out. That's all," he said as he picked back up his cup and slurped the final dregs of his smoothie. He stared at the group leader and said not a single word more as the Tarvian typed away on his tablet.
Moments later, he looked up and then nodded to Tanner.
"A fine start, Captain. Now, next, please ..." he said and the session went on.
Around the table, the introductions went; the table included a couple more people from Neres who had fallen into smuggling some kind of contraband and had been caught. That one got some nods from others at the table, and it made Tanner think that this was a known item.
There was a woman from Juno, who'd been on a cruise ship that was visiting Neres City, and she had gone stark raving mad when she'd landed and she was determined the city was guilty of some kind of climate poisoning of her body, and Tanner thought that no one got that one.
Another patient was from ITO and had been charged with some kind of union busting, which was odd, as Tanner knew there were no unions of miners over on ITO, and he thought it would be interesting to learn more.
There were more introductions, and Tanner listened and filed away his group members past and wondered if any of them were being honest or even close to being honest in their initial introductions, and he knew he'd probably never know.
Ninety days was enough time to do as a sentence. But not enough to find the truth ...
####
The smash of the petri dish hitting the far wall in the Secure lab was sharp, and Toombs didn't pay it a bit of attention. He had thrown it in a fit of anger as it was perfectly unaffected by the insertion of the latest virus trials—D-23 was dead too.
He stood by the tray in front of him and wondered if they'd ever find a successful growth strain, and then his training took over.
Of course, we will—via trial after trial after trial.
“That's what we do,” he said and sighed. He slid the tray back into the growth chamber and went to fetch the broom and dustpan to sweep up the broken shards of glass in the corner. Sweeping it up, he smiled since his fit of anger hadn't been seen by anyone else on the Ikarian virus team, which was a good thing. He slid a hand along the face of the wall there, and he could detect a few other teensy dents—each time a previous vaccine had failed, he'd thrown one of the telltale petri dishes at this same spot, and even when cleaned up, the tiny dents were noticeable. At least to him, and as the principal research scientist on the Ikarian virus team, it was a habit he was not proud of.
But then failing at this research would be a career limiting move too, he thought and kept sweeping.
Once the mess was cleaned up, he went back over to the administration desk in the opposite corner of the labs, sat, and keyed in his administrative access code to get to the virus database.
"Stupid virus is what we should have called it," he said right out loud and grinned to himself. His red hair was something he had been ribbed about back when he'd been a grad student on his PhD campaign, but no one would ever say anything about red-headed anger to his face anymore. Perks of the big job, he thought, and he keyed in the final status of the D-23 vaccine as a FAIL. He saved the file and then clicked on D-24 to get the next set of vaccine items aligned and formulas planned.
The simple fact was, he well knew, that the vaccine they were mandated to develop would cause the patient who took it to not age.
The item that was the enemy in that simple equation was aging itself—a part of life for the known races populating the galaxy, and that was the issue. Any vaccine that was a biological preparation provided active acquired immunity to a disease—and in this case, the disease was age. The vaccines usually contained an agent that resembled the microorganisms that age was made from, and that was a large part of the issue, the identification of those microorganisms.
It was helpful in one respect, as they were working on the virus that had infected the Ikarians who were their test subjects. The virus lay dormant within the child as the host which was a Godsend—that allowed them to identify, with a degree of certainty, what the child developed as puberty set up those microorganisms to do and to react. How they reacted was the point of the entire set of tests within the D category.
Vaccines could be prophylactic which this one would need to be to prevent or ameliorate the effects of aging. A simple vaccination would hold back time.
Simple. Neat and so far beyond their abilities though they'd been at this for almost a year.
They'd veered off into DNA vaccine discovery, using the virus's own DNA to insert into the DNA the vaccine itself, which should have worked out by now. Some of the cells in the test animals' bodies had recognized the DNA proteins from the Ikarian virus—that much they had established. And if they recognized those DNA proteins, then they should mount an attack against those proteins and cells and express them. Because these cells lived for a very long time within the host, if the microorganisms of age were again encountered at a later time, they would be attacked instantly by the host's immune system. The big advantage of the DNA vaccine was that they would be easy to produce, store, and disburse.
But why they had not fought the virus by attacking it had been the question. One, he was sad to realize, that so far the answer had evaded them.
They had mounted their own testing and control on those test animals with a double-blind secure test, and they were assured their lab and tests were running the highest of standards.
Enough, he thought, that was just more evidence that their best efforts had yet to yield results. So back to the next series.
He watched as the various already identified microorganisms populated the graphs and the various Ikarian items were matched and set up to work off each other. The levels of testosterone and estrogen were carefully added to those various sections, and new DNA proteins were programmed for creation, and in an hour, they sat in front of his vaccine printer and he smiled. "Amazing how things work," he said to himself and input the details so the vaccines would be inserted into the petri dish hosts first thing tomorrow.
Notifying the team was next, which was a simple click on his console. Moments later, the team would be reading same.
He slid back in his chair and keyed in the Animal Test Lab video monitor. As he clicked the PURGE button, he watched as the large plas-screens slid down out of the ceiling and surrounded the racks of cages. Inside, the Garnuthian mice were going about their business and that, while unimportant, at least salved his guilt on this. "Nonsense," he said to himself, "this is just part of vaccine development."
Pressing the ENGAGE button on the screen, he noted the gentle hiss as the now sealed racks of cages were filled with the anesthetic, and within a few minutes, all the mice were dead. End of the D-23 was complete, and he vacated the closed cage area by pouring in the pure O2. He clicked the OFF button a few minutes later, and the screens slid back up and into their place in the ceiling.
Ward would need a few more minutes to clean up the labs in the morning, so he messaged him that and closed his console down.
Tomorrow would be another day and that would mean another start to new testing.
####
"Doctor Bassem, there is a priority EYES ONLY from the Caliphate, sir," the nurse at the station said and pointed to the small office off to the left of the backside of the large station. On the Caliphate ward on the Hospital Ship, the layouts were similar to other wards, and as usual, the nurses' station on each floor was the magnet for both staff and patients.
He nodded and said for her to feed it into the room's Ansible console and sat heavily in the chair. He quickly glanced
over his shoulder to see if anyone else might be able to see the monitor. With the door closed, no one would be able to see the sender of the call. He tapped his fingers on the desk waiting for the call and knew it was not going to be a good one. But that was his cousin for sure.
As the monitor suddenly showed the royal crest of the head of state followed quickly by a fade to his cousin's face, he had to force a smile and nodded too.
"Good of you to call, Caliph," he said and dipped his head to show respect.
The Caliph was still reading something on his desk, held up a palm, and the call was on hold.
Figures, Kahil thought and he waited, still looking at the Caliph and still attentive.
No sense in getting on the boss's bad side before he even—
"Kahil, good of you to take my call," said Sharia al Dotsa, the Caliph of Neria, and he almost smiled himself.
Maybe I just thought that, as that's what I'd like to believe, Kahil thought as he played with some coins in his lab coat pocket.
Change for a cold drink down at the Juice Bar on the main deck, he knew he'd get to use later.
"We have an issue that only you will be able to handle, my cousin," the Caliph said, "and it's pretty simple, I would think. Of course, the handling of this mission will be up to you—all I expect are results, my cousin," he said firmly.
"My Caliph, might I gently remind you that I am a doctor? I look after mostly injuries or diseases of our countrymen here in the Barony, and as such, the word 'mission' is so out of place in what I do that it's not even something I can countenance, Caliph," he said and he knew the tone of his voice was only a bit of an attempt to duck this. He felt good for only an instant as the Caliph's face darkened and his voice grew even harder.
"The fact that you are a doctor in the employ of the Barony is exactly what the Caliphate needs, cousin," he snapped back. "You are able to move throughout the Hospital Ship as you have often told me. You have the necessary nearness to the Barony Research facility that is there. You know who the chief scientists are, and you will proceed to accomplish this mission, else there will be serious consequences for you, cousin—and your family here too," the Caliph said.
Kahil shuddered. The family his cousin was referring to was his son and wife and grandkids, his mother still on Neria, and a whole selection of various other aunts and uncles and the like. He'd long ago stopped wondering if they all knew the Caliph used their wellbeing as a poker chip as he played them all the time.
"What is the mission that you need done—and I take it that I will be the agent you will be using?" he said.
"I need you to get me the Ikarian virus vaccine—the successful one only, of course.
Kahil's mouth dropped open, and he held up both hands with his palms up.
"My Caliph, that is ... that is the most important scientific discovery for the Barony—for the galaxy actually—and I would never be able to accomplish that task. Never. Not a single chance I can get that done for you—"
"Not for me, Kahil—for your family. You realize that they are what is at risk, yes?" the Caliph said, his voice silky and his smile sickening.
He nodded. "If you give me years, then maybe—but if you wish this done by a deadline, then you might as well pack all our relatives up and send them to the desert on Olbia. You do realize that the security is so strong on this single research item that it's not even discussed here socially?"
He hoped the Caliph wouldn't know he was lying. He'd overheard something in the cafeteria one day—if only he could remember who had been talking to whom, and that might be of some help.
"Not my problem, cousin. You may have all the time you need—as long as the vaccine gets to us before the Barony gets it ... understood, cousin?" he said and his smile was like it was painted on.
"As soon as we hear that the Barony has the vaccine, you will have lost your chance to redeem your family. I want you to remember that every day, cousin," he said as his hand slid toward the console and the screen faded to full black.
He was shocked, but there had been that conversation he'd heard just a week ago.
He'd have to check, and to do that, he'd haunt the cafeteria for the next little while. He smiled for a moment too, as he knew someone down in purchasing who was in charge of the purchase of test animals, so he might be able to get a handle on the research lab animal usage.
He shook his head. This was going to be hard. .
####
Nathan shaved slowly, savoring the feel of the blade slowly gliding across his beard as he stood at the sink in his quarters and smiled at himself for the fifth time in as many minutes.
Shower went fine, and he'd had to shampoo today, as his hair after three days got a bit oily. Sometimes he even shaved in the shower but not today. Today was different as today, he wasn't alone, and the sixth smile on his face appeared, and he had to stop shaving again to not cut himself.
The head was a bit misty and all, and he wiped his hand across the mirror above the sink once more, and as he did he glanced sideways and saw Nancy in the doorway wearing his shirt. Just his shirt, and he smiled for the seventh time.
"Morning, my scientist," she said, and even with the sleep still in her eyes, her blonde hair messy, and her voice a bit crackly, she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Of that, he was sure.
He smiled at her and nodded over to the shower.
"It's warm in there, and yes, you can use it—anything, really," he said and she nodded back to him.
His shirt dropped to the floor, and she strode by him to the stall and reached in to start up the water and get the temperature right for her.
As she did, he moved his position over a bit so he could stare at her great rear end in the mirror, and he swiped the glass a couple more times to clear it off more. After a moment, she spun and popped across the few feet of tile to give him a quick kiss on the shoulder, and then she was in the shower and under the spray.
Finishing up his shave, he tucked a brand new clean towel—wait, he thought, one wouldn't do, and he got another off the shelf above the vanity and put them within reach for her.
Five minutes later, he was struggling to get into a pair of khakis when she appeared in the doorway to the head. She toweled off her blonde hair with one towel, and the other was wrapped around her.
"Shouldn't have given you two towels," he said as he lost count of his smiles this morning.
She was bent over to the side, trying to get some water out of her ear it looked like and that made him stop the kidding.
"You okay, Nance? Ears okay?" he said, and his worried voice was louder than he'd wanted it to be. Those ears were brand new, and he had no idea what a shower might do.
She nodded and then straightened up and continued to towel just the ends of her locks.
"Not a problem there, Nathan—just making sure that all the water is out. Something they recommended me to do after every shower is all ..." and she smiled back at him too.
They were both, he thought, surprised at exactly how quickly they had become a couple. They'd been dating for only three weeks, and now, she came to spend most of her evenings here in his quarters. The fact that her own was a shared space with another navy woman was a part of the issue.
But the big part was that they—and he knew no other way of thinking about this—were so dang good together. She took him seriously, he knew. She had opened up to him on their third date about her past relationships and how they had started and ended. For the most part, she said that as she was a navy woman, she'd be away often, for long lengths of time—so anyone who wanted to be her "main squeeze," as she called it, would have to accept that.
And he did. Others hadn't, but she was honest enough to say that.
One of the reasons that he was falling in love with her.
A scary thought for a thirty-four-year-old bachelor, but then again, he knew he'd never find another like her.
The prettiest woman he'd ever seen, the best kisser, and his nights were ful
l of satisfaction he'd never found before, and she loved him.
Of that, he was sure.
"I love you," he said right out loud for the first time and stared at her.
She stopped the towel—froze more like it, he thought—and then she slowly straightened up and turned to face him from a few feet away.
Her eyes, her beautiful green eyes, stared at him, her pupils dilating as she took a step and then another closer to him.
She came right up to him, and one hand reached down to grab his. She was only a few inches shorter than he was, so she stepped up on tippy-toes and gently placed a kiss on his lips. A soft, light kiss. A kiss that said much more than what it was, and she leaned back as he took her into his arms.
"And yes, my research guy—I love you too! You have made me so, so, so happy ..." she said and her voice was tremulous but still he knew she meant it.
"This is all so new and sudden and perfect," she said, as one hand snuck in between them to undo the towel which fell to the floor.
Perfect is right. He kissed her long and hard and again and again.
####
The Master Adept looked down on the ruins of a farm just a few miles away. The barn leaned sickly and the farmhouse was without a roof. Past that, the previously orderly corrals and paddock fences held a rail or two, but for the most part, they looked like they had been left to deteriorate for years. She had out the same window of her building on Eons and looked at this same farm for almost a hundred years.
She had thought often about the view that one might see for a full hundred miles down that valley: forsaken farms, outbuildings, and all the detritus of once flourishing farming and the small communities, mile after mile. No matter where one looked on Eons, the climate was so unfavorable to agriculture that all around Dessau, the capital city, the blue sunlight had killed the planet. For a full three hundred years and a bit more, the radiation from the huge blue star around which Eons revolved had made things as difficult as possible—until the radiation level changed.
Eons was still on a climatic hiatus where the lands suffered.