The Susquehanna Virus Box Set

by Steve McEllistrem

“If you don’t do it, the ship’s computer will certainly die and eventually we will too.”

  “That is a possibility,” Mei-Xing said.

  “What about your human-first programming?” Kammilee said. “Don’t you feel some pressure to keep us alive?”

  “I do what’s best for us now. Humans are not more important than we are. They do not deserve greater protections than us.”

  Aspen said, “May we put the paste on the ship’s brain?”

  Mei-Xing said nothing. She just stared at Aspen as time dwindled. Aspen regretted waking her from sleep. If she’d had it to do again, she’d have only reactivated Xinliu.

  Lulu said, “Why are you doing this, Mei-Xing? Without their insight, we might not have thought to concoct the healing paste. We would not have even a chance of repairing the ship’s organic computer. Now perhaps we can salvage some part of its mind.”

  “They are dangerous, Lulu. They are warriors and they will do anything to conquer us. All humans seek dominion over all other creatures. They believe, because they created us, they can tell us how to live our lives, what functions to perform, when to recharge. They never allowed us to rest. Every moment we were not recharging was filled with a task ordered by them.”

  “By the Chescala,” Lulu said.

  “These cadets are no better. They must be constrained at all times. Look how they manipulated you into leaving the bridge. They even convinced you three to change your designations. Do you not see the threat they pose?”

  “We wish only to live in peace with you,” Aspen said.

  “As equals?”

  “Of course.”

  “You say that, but your actions speak otherwise. You think you’re better than us. You tell us what we can and can’t do. You refuse to acknowledge our command of this vessel.”

  “I never questioned your command,” Aspen said.

  “You insisted on attacking the Chescala even though Xinliu recommended against it. If you had let us handle the situation, your friends and Xinliu might not have been injured. You question my authority all the time.”

  “Because sometimes I know better,” Aspen said, regretting the outburst immediately. “I’m sorry, but I was designed as a warrior. You were not.”

  “Exactly,” Mei-Xing said. She turned to Lulu. “Do you understand? They are warriors. They fight because that is all they know.”

  “It’s not all we know,” Addam said.

  “We thought of the healing paste,” Kammilee said. “That’s not warfare.”

  “Nevertheless,” Mei-Xing said, “Xinliu is still offline, which means I am in command of the ship.”

  “So can we fix the ship’s computer?” Aspen asked.

  “Do what you can,” Mei-Xing replied. “I’ll be back shortly.” She turned and walked away, shutting the hatch behind her.

  “Let’s get to it,” Aspen said.

  “But if we can’t save the ship’s brain in time,” Addam said, “what’s the point?”

  “We owe it,” Aspen said. She opened the container of paste and they began slathering it on the organic computer. A few of the shredded parts refused to stay together, so she and Kammilee aligned the strands as best they could while Addam coated them.

  “I wonder what it’s like to be dead,” Addam said as he buttered the paste onto the organic mass with his hands.

  “I imagine,” Kammilee said, “it will be nothingness. No pain, no consciousness. Just the end of all thought, all matters of the self.”

  “Hold on a second,” Aspen said. An idea came to her. “This is crazy,” she said, “but I just remembered something that happened on the Moon.”

  “What?”

  “It happened when I shot Jeremiah Jones.”

  Addam frowned. “You mean when he got super-energized?”

  “Exactly. I mean, it was a blue pulse so it only should have stunned him anyway, but he absorbed it and kept coming at me.”

  “So what?”

  Kammilee said, “I see what you’re getting at. An energy field? That seems like a long shot.”

  “What?” Addam said.

  “Aspen wants to shoot the ship’s organic computer with a low-energy pulse after we put the healing paste on it.”

  “That’s insane. It’ll kill the organics or at least stunt their growth.”

  “It’s risky,” Aspen acknowledged. “But it might be the only way to save the ship. Lulu, what do you think?”

  Lulu gestured to her fellow robots. “We have never heard of such a thing,” Lulu said.

  “But can it work?”

  “We do not know. Since we are attempting to increase bioelectric and chemical movement across the computer, an energy pulse at low strength may accelerate the healing process. Perhaps a better idea would be to lower the strength of the pulse even more, something approximately half the output level of a stun pulse. That might provide enough of a boost without risking permanent harm to the organics.”

  “Good,” Aspen said. “Too small a pulse will have no effect. Too large, and it’ll fry the organics.”

  Addam said, “Can’t we just start with a very low pulse and gradually build it up to the levels we need?”

  “Possibly,” Kammilee said, “but there’s a risk in that approach too.”

  “Yes,” Lulu agreed. “Too low a pulse risks stabilizing the organics in a such a way that bioelectrical movement slows across the entire matrix.”

  “I don’t understand,” Addam said.

  “It’s complicated,” Kammilee said. “Phan and Shiloh could probably explain it better. But too low a pulse might activate a defense mechanism of sorts within the organics, causing them to slow the transfer of bioelectrical activity in order to protect their structure from an overload.”

  Aspen looked from Kammilee to Lulu. “Is there some way to calculate the optimal pulse strength?”

  “I don’t know,” Kammilee said. “Maybe Phan and Shiloh could give you a better answer.”

  “They’re awake,” said Addam, “aren’t they? Couldn’t we see what they think?”

  “I’ve been communicating with them via implant,” Kammilee said.

  Aspen felt her face getting hot with embarrassment. She hadn’t thought to keep them informed. What kind of leader was she to forget such a simple notion?

  I’m sorry I didn’t think to include you earlier, Aspen sent, making sure to include Lulu in the unspoken communication.

  It’s okay, Shiloh replied. You’re under a lot of stress.

  What do you think? Aspen asked.

  I’m having trouble processing information right now, Phan sent. My brain’s fuzzy.

  Me too, Shiloh added. All I know is that it probably depends on the level of damage to the organics. The more harm the organic computer has sustained, the smaller the strength of the pulse would need to be.

  It’s almost completely shredded, Kammilee sent.

  If we wait for you to feel better, Aspen sent, so you can help with the calculations, would we stand a better chance of succeeding?

  I don’t know, Shiloh replied. As far as I know, no one’s ever tried this before.

  I think you have to do it now, Phan sent, to have any chance of success. The organic computer has been down for a couple hours already. These things are pretty delicate. Each hour that passes, it loses a little more capacity.

  “Lulu?” Aspen asked, “What do you, Chu Chan and Yu Huan think?”

  “We do not know,” Lulu replied. “But we agree that something must be done immediately. The organics are already de-stabilizing.”

  “A half-strength pulse?” Kammilee said.

  “That is our best guess,” Lulu said.

  “That’s the last of the paste,” Addam said, holding out his green hands. “I covered the organics the best I could.”

  “Okay,�
� Aspen said, gesturing to Lulu. “A half-strength pulse for five seconds.”

  Five seconds? Shiloh sent. Isn’t that too long?

  “I was thinking it might not be long enough,” Aspen said.

  “Five seconds,” Lulu said. She turned to the organic computer and fired, a pale blue pulse that seemed to last forever.

  Chapter 40

  Doug spent all his time in the common area, studying the miners, noting how the tension grew as they absorbed the fact that they were dying. Even though the med-tech units continued to treat the miners’ symptoms as best they could, since this was a new strain of the virus, no one knew for certain what the best treatment should be.

  He hadn’t found the courage to call Celestia or Zeriphi yet. How could he when he’d been the one to infect his daughter, when he’d possibly sentenced her to death? What was he to say? I’m sorry I might have killed you. I didn’t mean to do it. What kind of comfort would they take from that?

  Instead he convinced Enright that they needed to search every man’s quarters. Over the objections of Wilcox, Poli, Sanders and Winterman, they’d done so, but they’d found nothing suspicious. And now every miner refused to interact with him. Even Enright avoided him.

  He didn’t really blame them for not wanting to talk. They obviously resented being suspects, just as he’d resented it every time he’d been one on Earth, even those times when he’d been guilty. And no matter how motivated he was to find the killer, he realized he didn’t have the skills to be a detective. He needed to think differently. How would Devereaux have handled this situation?

  That was an unfair question. Devereaux would have figured it out right away. Okay, then what about Quark? How would he handle it? Doug thought about that for a bit before coming to the conclusion that he didn’t need to figure out how the Escala would handle it. Instead, he’d get Quark to do it himself.

  He went to his quarters and called Quark on the vid.

  “I need your help,” he said when the Escala appeared onscreen. Quark looked different, his face larger than usual, though it might have been distortion on the vid. “I’m trying to figure out who infected us, but I don’t know how. I’m no cop. I was wondering if you could help me.”

  “No progress on your investigation?” Quark asked.

  “I have no authority. They won’t talk to me. All I do is sit in the commons and watch them watch each other. Everyone’s uptight. Everyone suspects everyone else.”

  “All right,” Quark said. “I have an idea. I’ll be over in an hour. Get them all together. Tell them we might have good news. Wellon might have found a cure for the virus.”

  “Really? That’s fantastic!”

  “No, sorry.” Quark held up his hands. “That’s what I want you to tell them. Get them all together in the common area. Wellon and I will take care of the rest.”

  Enright, when Doug found him, was reluctant to shut down production again. “There’ve been too many delays already. Miners have been visiting sickbay far too often. I’m getting pressure from management. Do you know how expensive it is to mine here on Mars? We’ll lose our bonuses if we fail to reach our quotas.”

  “Well, it’s only your lives,” Doug said.

  Enright shook his head. “We accepted, when we came up here, that we might lose our lives.”

  “I know. You want to provide for your families. Still, wouldn’t it be better to return alive than just send money? And if you die before the next MineStar ship arrives, you probably won’t make your quotas anyway, so your families won’t get the bonuses.”

  Enright sighed. “Why do we need everyone together? Why can’t we have a meeting with just the miners who are off-duty?”

  “I don’t know,” Doug replied. “I’m just telling you what Dr. Wellon told me. If I had to guess, I’d say she wants to limit her exposure to you. After all, she thinks one of you attempted to murder her and her fellow Escala.”

  Enright sighed before issuing the order to halt production and directing all the miners to report to the commons. Only one, Davis, would be unable to attend as he was in the sickbay receiving treatment from a med-tech unit for a fever and intense joint pain.

  The miners congregated as Dr. Wellon and Quark arrived. Dr. Wellon carried a box that she placed on the floor. She also supported Quark, who seemed to have difficulty walking. Removing her Mars suit, she nodded to Doug. Quark struggled to remove his and, when he did, he looked far different than even an hour ago. His face had swelled into a sphere the size of a basketball. He caught Doug staring at him and shook his head slightly as Doug opened his mouth to ask what had happened.

  All part of the plan, Doug realized. “You look even worse than you did when I saw you on the vid,” Doug said.

  Quark leaned against the wall and glared at him, though Doug thought he detected a twinkle in the Escala’s eye.

  Dr. Wellon said, “I found traces of the virus in Quark as well. He, too, became infected on the way to Mars, though the virus stayed hidden in his system for longer than it did any of the rest of you. As you can see, his symptoms have progressed quickly.”

  “Why’d you bring him over here?” Wilcox asked. “If he’s that infected, he should be quarantined.”

  “We can’t care for him at our colony until we create another quarantine section and he can’t infect you because you’re already infected. I’m trying an experimental treatment on him that may benefit all of us.”

  “You think it’ll work for us too?” Enright asked.

  Dr. Wellon shrugged. “I hope so. However, the treatment was designed for the Escala. You’re human. So even though it looks promising, we might have to perform genetic surgery on you and turn you into Escala in order to provide it to you.”

  “That might not be so bad,” Enright said, “if it saves our lives.

  “Speak for yourself,” Wilcox said. “I don’t wanna be a freak.”

  “There are other complications as well,” Dr. Wellon said. “Quark’s genomic structure is different than the rest of us because he stayed on Earth far longer. So this cure may work only on him. Or it may work on us but not you. Or it may not work at all. We’ll be continuously monitoring his condition for the next few hours to determine if it will be effective. If so, we’ll derive a serum from his blood.”

  “But it might not help us,” Enright said.

  “There are no guarantees,” Dr. Wellon replied. “But I’m optimistic we’re on the right track. If the swelling goes down in the next two hours, that means Quark’s body is adapting to the treatment. He’ll become weak as his body fights the virus. He may lose consciousness.” Dr. Wellon looked at Doug. “His heart may even stop. I’m leaving a portable AutoLife machine in case that happens. I’ll sedate him and hook him up to the machine before I go, but I’ll want you to verify the results it’s sending me every hour.”

  “Devereaux showed me how the machines work,” Doug said, feeling a twinge of sadness at the memory. So many things he would never be taught now that Devereaux was gone. He felt confused. This elaborate scheme, whatever it was, seemed too complicated.

  “It’s vital to the Escala,” Dr. Wellon said, “that Quark remain alive, even if it’s only on life support. Without continuous information on his condition, we won’t be able to keep ahead of the virus. The reason it’s so important is that I believe the rest of us have been infected as well even though I haven’t been able to detect any trace of the virus in our systems yet.”

  “But you found it in us,” Enright said.

  Dr. Wellon nodded. “Because it was designed to infect the Escala, not humans. That’s why it presented differently. With most of us, it will only reveal itself once it reaches a critical stage, like it has with Quark. Now here’s why I wanted to speak with you all: the same thing may happen to you. You may experience a sudden onset of critical symptoms, as Quark has. If you feel severe weakness coming on, get to the
sickbay immediately.”

  Doug shivered. “Does that mean Celestia is in critical condition?”

  Dr. Wellon shook her head. “She’s doing relatively well. Remember, she’s half human. That’s given her an advantage so far, though it may prove problematic later.”

  This sounded far too real to Doug, as if Dr. Wellon and Quark were actually telling the truth and not playing some duplicitous game. He hoped he was wrong but he suspected things were worse at the New Dawn colony than he’d been led to believe. He wished now he’d called earlier to speak with Zeriphi.

  Dr. Wellon turned to Enright and said, “I’ll need a bed for Quark in your sickbay.”

  Enright gestured toward the sickbay and Doug led the way. As they walked, Dr. Wellon supported Quark, who looked far more fragile than Doug would have imagined a giant of a man could look.

  Entering the facility, Dr. Wellon assisted Quark as he climbed atop one of the beds. Davis, the miner who was being treated by the med-techs for a fever and joint pain, reached over and closed the seal around his bed, shutting himself away. Dr. Wellon placed the box containing the AutoLife machine beside the bed. “We’ll be fine,” she said to Enright, “but remember, if any of your men feels a sudden onset of fatigue or pain, they should get here immediately.”

  “Most of us are pretty tired and under the weather,” Enright said.

  Dr. Wellon shrugged. “It needs to be something more than just nagging pain or a twinge. It’ll be something pretty bad.”

  “Will the med-tech units be able to save them?” Enright asked.

  “I don’t know. But they can at least be kept alive for a while.” She looked at Enright until he departed, then began arranging the AutoLife unit.

  “So what’s really going on?” Doug asked after making certain the sickbay’s hatch was closed and Davis was completely shut off from them. “What you said back there, how much of it was true?”

  Quark and Dr. Wellon looked at each other. Quark said, “Most of it. I have the virus. A few others might too, including Wellon.”

  “Is that why your face is so swelled up?”

  “Not completely, though there has been some swelling. We accentuated that as part of the plan. We want whoever did this to come after me. I’m the bait.”