by Dean, Warren
"My choice was made when I decided to enter Translator School and to join this expedition. I could have stayed at my reproduction centre."
"No, you chose to become a translator. That choice was made long before you knew anything about this situation. Now you have a new choice to make. I don't understand why you cannot refuse. You can resign from the expedition and return to your star ship. If this trial is so important, why can't they send for someone else to take part in it?"
"The process would take much longer if we were to send for someone else. Suitable females would have to be identified and one or more of them selected. A star ship would then have to deliver the chosen candidates here."
"Yes, but why is that a problem? Your reproductive crisis has been developing over generations. Surely it won't take long for the candidates to travel here using your star drive?"
"We regard our longevity in much the same way that you regard your freedom of choice, it is highly valued. For that reason, no research involving the reduction of longevity has been permitted for a long time.
"And yet you are willing to forego your own longevity without a fight?"
"It is not that simple. Before the Ancient Council could sanction the selection of other females from the reproduction centres for such a trial, it would have to garner the approval of a great many sectors of our society. Although the Council cannot be deposed, it has always been its practice to comply with public sentiment as much as possible. Many of those sectors are vehemently against anything which would reduce our longevity. So it would take a great deal of time and effort for the council to gather enough support. In that time, a valuable opportunity may be lost to us."
"Oh, so it is convenient for political reasons for you to be sacrificed."
Vi seemed unaware of the anger in Qara's tone. "Yes, I am on an expedition subject to the supreme authority of the ambassador, who need not concern himself with public opinion. If society disapproves of the decision to involve me in this trial, it is the ambassador who will take the brunt of any criticism."
Vi spoke with calm conviction, which had the unintended effect of fuelling Qara's visceral reaction. She had never been quick to anger but the increasingly frustrating conversation was making her feel as though a little furnace had ignited in her breast. She stood up abruptly. "So, you are going ahead with this trial," she snapped.
"Yes, I must."
"I hope it turns out well for you." She stormed out of the dining-room and made her way out onto the jetty. The choppy blue waters of the bay sparkled in the sun. A chilly breeze had sprung up, and she shivered. She watched some yachts tacking against the wind in the distance, their white sails billowing strongly. She resolutely endured the plummeting afternoon temperature, still too angry to go back inside.
She looked up at the sound of a hover-copter approaching. It materialized out of the clouds which were boiling in from Long Island Sound to the north. As it flew overhead she saw the 'Forever Incorporated' logo emblazoned on the side. It landed on the other side of the house. There was silence for a few minutes, and then it took off again and returned the way it had come.
She was about to give in to the cold and go back to her room when the dining room doors opened. A slim, dark-haired man stepped out and approached her. She glanced enviously at his warm looking overcoat. When he got closer she recognised him; David Herald, the inventor of the Forever Gene.
A small ember of her earlier fury had survived the cold. "Have you come to make sure you get your thirty pieces of silver for your new gene? Although I'm sure it must be closer to thirty million."
He stopped, startled by the hostile reception. "I came to ask whether you needed something warm from the house. I'm David."
He extended his hand but she ignored it.
"I know who you are."
"I take it that you disapprove of the Faerie Folk's trial?"
"Is it their trial or your trial?"
"I have nothing to gain from this trial. It is not technology which will be of any use on Earth."
"They must be paying you handsomely for it."
"They made me a commercially profitable offer for the expense my company will incur."
"You have no problem taking the life of a young woman for profit? In my land, that is known as murder."
"It is not murder; the subject will not die as a result of the procedure. And the Faerie Folk intend to reverse the effects of the gene once the trial is completed."
"When will that be?"
"What do you mean?"
"When will the trial be completed? How many years or decades will Vi lose before they finish testing her?"
Outwardly he remained calm, but she could see that he was getting annoyed. "If necessary, we can reverse the effect of the trial gene by replacing it with the Forever Gene. That will give her back more than the time she will have lost."
"She will be older by then, perhaps much older. So you will be replacing youthful years with years of old age. How does that reverse the effect of the trial? And do you know that she will be returning to her reproduction centre? How do you know that she will ever come back here so that you can carry out the reversal?"
"The ambassador has assured me that every effort will be made to ensure that the subject's well-being is not affected more than is necessary. I don't see why he would prevent her from returning here when the time comes. You forget that this trial is for the benefit of an entire race."
"So it is okay to sacrifice one person for the good of many."
"That is not an unfamiliar concept, even on this planet. Perhaps you should take this up with Ambassador Ba or Physician Ti. They are the ones who made this request of me. And I have spoken personally with Translator Vi who assures me that she is willing to participate. There is no logical reason for me to refuse."
"You shouldn't need a logical reason. It is just not right."
"Look, I have been given the opportunity to help a dying extra-terrestrial race to survive. A race that has the technology and knowledge we need to save our own planet. They have offered to help us and I believe that it would be unconscionably short-sighted to refuse to help them in return. And I don't see anything wrong with the fact that my company will profit from doing so."
Qara had run out of steam and didn't respond.
"You are welcome to come back to the house when you are ready," he said and walked away.
She turned to stare out over the bay again and felt her ire gradually subside. She decided to look at the scenery for a few minutes and then go back inside, apologise to Vi, and then ask Carlo to take her back to New York. She would give Ti whatever assurances of her silence he wanted.
"I did not ask you here to help me decide what to do. That decision has already been made." Vi had walked silently out onto the jetty, carrying a large umbrella which she used to shield her features from potential prying eyes.
"Well, why am I here, then?"
She sighed. "I have handled this badly, I fear. Please forgive my clumsiness."
"No forgiveness is necessary; I have no right to be angry with you."
Vi hesitated before speaking again. "I am afraid. This is not a feeling that is easy to discuss with members of my race. We are taught never to fear doing our duty, whatever that may entail. What that really means, I have come to realise, is that we must do our duty and keep any fears we have to ourselves."
"What can I do to help?"
"Will you go through the trial with me?"
Qara looked at her blankly.
"Obviously, in your case, using the real Forever Gene."
"But it is too expensive. I don't have the money to pay for it."
"That won't be a problem. The ambassador will arrange it. Don't forget, I am the only trial candidate he has on this planet."
"I don't think Dr Herald will agree to it. I'm afraid I have just accused him of being nothing short of a murderer."
"Don't worry, the ambassador can mollify anyone."
Qara experienced a mom
ent of hyper-thought. Her mind considered the possibilities, weighed up the consequences, took into account her feelings, and came to a conclusion in what seemed like a split second. "Alright, I will do it."
"Thank you. Somehow I feel that it will be easier for me to bear a shortened lifespan if yours is extended at the same time. It will bring balance. And I hope you will continue to let me have the benefit of your advice in the future."
"I have some advice for you now."
"What is it?"
"You had better get back inside before Physician Grumpy sees you out here."
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Don't worry, it will be the experience of your life!" he had assured her. "This is your big chance!"
Qara remembered him saying exactly the same thing before sending her in to that first interview with the Faerie Folk. Tol could make jumping off a bridge sound like a good idea.
Her stomach heaved again and she grabbed another of the paper bags from a pocket of the bulkhead above her seat. Well, the bulkhead had been above her seat before the launch. Now she had no idea which way was up. She retched unattractively, but thankfully there was nothing more to throw up.
She had been alright at first, even though the tremendous G-force of the launch had crushed her back into her seat. The sensation eased gradually as the shuttle left the Earth's atmosphere, and for a moment she thought she would be fine. But her problems were just beginning. The feeling that an elephant was sitting on her chest dissipated, and was replaced by... nothing. She had never experienced weightlessness before and was completely unprepared for the disorientation it caused. Her eyes insisted that the deck of the shuttle was down but her stomach refused to subscribe to their point of view.
She tried looking out of one of the view-ports near her seat, hoping it would give her a stable frame of reference, but the sight of the curve of the Earth drifting away at an awkward angle made things worse. The next time Tol tried to convince her that something was her big chance, he would regret it.
He had been amazed when the real reason for her visit to Boston had gone undetected, despite her being there for more than six weeks. He had run out of recorded footage to use in his daily features and had explained Qara's absence by saying that she had been working too hard, and had been given extended leave.
His scoop about the visit of the Faerie Folk to the United States having failed to materialise, he came up with another headline.
"The Faerie Folk on the Moon!"
After Ambassador Ba had offered the star drive to the world at large, most of its leading nations, and more than a few of its less developed ones, had clamoured to be first in line. Realising his mistake, the ambassador announced that it would be impractical to attempt to upgrade the existing technology of each nation separately, even if some of them banded together. He simply did not have enough analysts.
If he gave priority to some nations over others, it would inevitably result in disputes and possibly even wars. And the whole process would take far longer than the six months he had initially envisaged.
So he came up with an alternative. The closest thing to a central planetary authority on Earth was the United Nations. He proposed that, in order to maintain world peace, a joint project be undertaken by the five permanent members of its Security Council. One of those members, the United States, already had a base on the Moon. Moonbase Alpha was primarily geared for exploration and mining, but NASA also had a state of the art facility there. With the assistance of Faerie Folk analysts, the complex could be converted into a fully functional space station within a few months.
Then, NASA's existing space technology could be upgraded at the moonbase itself. At the same time, a star ship would be constructed and, once the technology was ready, the star drive would be installed. The other four permanent members of the Security Council would participate by sending delegations of personnel to the moonbase.
Russia, China, the United Kingdom and Northern Europe, horrified at the prospect of the United States being the first to obtain a fully functional star ship, accepted the proposal without much argument. Once the project was complete, the Security Council would be responsible for making the star drive available to the rest of the world.
Turning a deaf ear to the howls of protest from almost every quarter, the Faerie Folk began work immediately. The government of India tried to stop them by filing a lawsuit at the International Court of Justice in The Netherlands. Situated within the borders of the Northern European Federation, the court displayed a singular lack of enthusiasm for the suit and neatly side-stepped it by deciding that it had no authority over the actions of an alien race.
By the time Qara made her trip to the Moon, about four months had gone by, and the project was well under way. At first, the five participating nations had agreed not to allow the media onto the moonbase. The prospect of hundreds of news channels sending reporters and their film crews to cover the project was too daunting to contemplate. They would all have to be housed and fed, and security would be a nightmare.
Instead, a media committee, made up of one member from each delegation, compiled a daily progress download which was released each evening. At first, there was very little of substance to report as the human technicians and Faerie Folk analysts spent most of their time studying each other's technology. The construction of the star ship was a little more interesting. Officially named 'Pioneer', the wags on the Personet quickly came up with a more imaginative alternative.
Qara turned a puzzled frown towards Tol when she first heard the ship's nickname. "Why are they calling it 'Earthworm'?"
He grinned. "Because it's from Earth and will be able to travel through wormholes."
Soon, even the technicians on the Moon were calling it Earthworm.
The Faerie Folk supplied the basic design of the ship's hull and the systems needed to accommodate the star drive. The humans were left to design the rest of the interior, and colourful clashes of opinion among the five delegations satisfied the media's appetite for a while. With the assistance of regular Faerie Folk mediation, Earthworm took shape rapidly and within four months was almost complete.
Progress then became less perceptible and calls for reporters to be permitted to go to the Moon intensified. The Americans, already smarting at having had to share their latest technology with their greatest rivals, led the resistance to this demand. United for once, none of the five nations wanted to risk the star drive being surreptitiously copied and made available to others before they were able to benefit from their head start.
Unable to budge the stance of the human participants in the project, the media redirected its pressure onto the Faerie Folk. Ambassador Ba, always anxious to avoid becoming embroiled in any dispute, suggested that a single news crew from an acceptably impartial nation be permitted onto the Moon. The conflicting interests of security and independent journalism could then be accommodated without too much difficulty.
And, of course, he had just such a crew in mind.
As the shuttle neared the moonbase, and the sensation of gravity slowly returned, Qara's senses settled their differences and returned to a semblance of normality. During the flight, each passenger had changed into 'moonskin'; a skin-tight body-suit worn underneath the wearer's normal clothing. The material was subtly weighted so as to boost the Moon's otherwise weak gravity. After a few hours of getting used to, its wearers were able to move around almost normally, something for which Qara was extremely thankful.
Once the shuttle had touched down and docked, she followed the stocky form of Batu out of the cabin and into the docking tube. Her cameraman had been maddeningly unperturbed by the flight. His stomach seemed to be made of iron and he had even fallen asleep. Walking like a new born foal, she lurched through the tube, turning once or twice to check on the progress of an equally unsteady Oyugun. At least she hadn't been the only one making use of the sick bags in the passenger cabin.
She felt a bit steadier by the time she stepped out of the tube and onto the fir
m floor of the docking bay. Waiting for them was a tall, blonde-haired woman in a Russian military uniform. The insignia on her shoulders was that of a Colonel. They clattered to a stop in front of her.
"I am Katya Kasparova, second in command of the Russian delegation here," she announced in a clipped tone. "I am presently the chairperson of the media committee and will be your primary liaison. Come with me." She offered no welcomes, handshakes or smiles. She simply turned on her heel and marched through one of the open hatches leading out of the bay. Batu followed without hesitation, his military training responding to the natural authority in her tone. Qara and Oyugun were left with no option but to trail along behind.
Qara had done her homework. Katya Kasparova was one of Russia's most decorated soldiers. As a young officer, she had assumed command of a hover-tank squadron during one of her nation's occasional border scuffles with its neighbours. The squadron had been cut off and surrounded by a cleverly planned enemy strike. A smart bomb had targeted the command 'tank, killing the squadron's senior officers.
Katya had assessed the situation rapidly and, seeing an obvious weakness in the enemy cordon, had ordered half of the squadron to escape through it, but at a relatively slow pace. Then she took the other half and attacked what appeared to be the strongest part of the enemy line.
The cordon turned out to be an enemy ruse; the 'tanks which took the obvious route were funnelled into a narrow valley where they were intended to become easy targets for enemy 'tanks hidden on its slopes. However, the unexpectedly slow pace of the Russian 'tanks gave the other half of the squadron time to punch through the other side of the enemy line, which was not as strongly held as it appeared to be. Once through the cordon, they doubled back towards the escape route and, attacking from behind, quickly destroyed or crippled the enemy 'tanks on the one flank of the valley. Then, reinforced by the belated arrival of the other half of the squadron, they drove the enemy tanks on the other flank into the path of the main Russian force. Caught in a cross fire, the enemy was forced to surrender.