Jab
I was still puzzling out most of the consequences of having Adept abilities—probably would be for the rest of my life. Psionics did nothing to simplify the equation, but what they added in complexity they equally added in utility.
Clueing Tasser in on Nai’s discovery was as simple as writing a psionic note in my mind, and subtly materializing the same note inside my clenched fist. Passing the note into his hands was effortless, and I knew his eyes were good enough to read the tiny lettering.
He gave a very subtle nod when he was finished, and I dissolved the note.
It wasn’t as straightforward as telepathy with Nai, but it was about as stealthy. We hadn’t even broken stride as we walked toward the day’s next appointment.
“You have any particular thoughts about the rest of the day?” I asked.
“…No. I think it will be uneventful. It’s the first day with us here, I think things will stay pretty quiet.”
I nodded thoughtfully. It was rudimentary code, but it would sound innocuous.
We weren’t going to say anything overt around the security guards. They worked for the Organic Authority, and were therefore nominally neutral. But the Facility Director had been willing to hide Umtane’s presence, and the way Nai and Dyn had told it, the Organic Authority was more about cooperating with whoever happened to be in charge of a region rather than true neutrality.
If Tasser was correct, Nai would sit on her discovery. If I understood the chain of command the Coalition had instituted for this mission, then Nemuleki needed to be told too before any decisions got made.
In that case, I needed to focus on the rest of the medical testing for today. In a normal hospital, you might go to eight different examination rooms for ten different doctors. That might have even been the way it normally happened here.
But my situation wasn’t normal, and if an examination didn’t require any bulky equipment like this morning’s physical had, then it was simpler to bring the doctor to me in a dedicated sampling lab.
Dyn’s work had seen me get very accustomed to being stuck with needles. But hearing about the sheer number of test samples the Organic Authority wanted made me think being ‘very accustomed’ wouldn’t be enough.
We took the stairs, at the request of our (my?) security detail. The Complex had elevators, and I wasn’t strictly under quarantine. But the doctors had suggested still keeping me from highly trafficked areas.
That meant the entire gymnasium I’d been in this morning had to be disinfected before anyone from the public would be allowed in. I didn’t envy the poor Casti who had that job.
Aliens probably still had janitors, right? Especially if they didn’t have much automation.
But, cleaning robots on Earth still had problems with basic architectural features like stairs, so maybe that wasn’t saying much. And the Green Complex had stairs…
Six levels we went down.
“I’m not looking forward to the hike back up,” I said idly.
Tasser snorted. “We just spent most of this morning learning how your body is exotically reinforced for movement, and you’re complaining about some stairs?”
“I didn’t say it would be difficult,” I protested. “Just that I wasn’t looking forward to it. It’s inconvenient.”
“Ase Serral spoiled you…” he said.
“I’m a foreign dignitary,” I preened. “We’re afforded such accommodation.”
“You’re a refugee at best.”
“Is that really the kind of thing you want to hold against me?”
“…No,” Tasser conceded. “But we traipsed over a mountain, and you barely complained. Stairs are that much of an inconvenience?”
“It’s practically force of habit,” I explained. “Stairs are the perfectly innocuously mundane inconvenience to complain about for humorous effect.”
“Maybe we could get ladders or ropes hung between the levels instead…” he said. “Force you to climb your way up and down since you like it so much.”
“Climbing is one of those things I’ve picked up coincidentally,” I said. “Once something saves your life not once, not twice, but three times, you may as well lean into it.”
I was acutely aware of the two security guards behind us listening. They were mostly quiet, but since they were the ones with guns, it seemed prudent.
Although, since this was more or less some form of hospital, did that make them orderlies? Could hospitals have both orderlies and security guards? Whatever you called them, it was interesting that they were armed though. The Organic Authority didn’t mess around with its facilities.
I was a little surprised none of the doctors from this morning’s physical were following us. I’d understood they were specially assigned, but since it was just security escorting Tasser and I to the next appointment, I might have been mistaken.
The two security guards led us to one of the dozens of labs packed into the lower levels. Nearly a third of the facility was filled with modular lab environments that could be connected and separated in virtually any configuration.
They could stay sealed for months depending on what experiment needed undisturbed time to culture or decompose. That fact put them at the top of my list of ‘places I’d hide a Korbanok data drive.’ But that ball was going to another fielder.
All I had to do was play first base, and complete the medical testing the Organic Authority wanted me to. Simple.
The labs in this hallway had simple paper labels stuck into slats next to the door. Some were yellowed from age, like the lab containing ‘variable yield strain- unta -02772’. There was a smaller label under the first that read ‘long term, 4 months’ with a date chart attached beneath it on the wall.
A significant amount of record keeping was done on paper here. That was…hmmm. I wasn’t sure what to think of that yet.
Our lab, or I guess it could have just been mine, wore a black label with white lettering, ‘clearance only.’ The two security guards took up positions at the door and someone opened the door from within.
One of the oldest Farnata I’d ever seen brought us through a short narrow hall, just long enough to hide another door behind a curtain. It was an airlock, or perhaps just a security measure since the doors didn’t appear airtight at the floor and ceiling. The inside door of the lab was labeled ‘First Contact IV.’ (it wasn’t actually roman numerals, but it did use a similar archaic number script.)
“Isn’t that one off?” I asked. “I thought I was the fifth alien race you’ve all come across.”
“Not quite,” a crisp voice said on the other side of the room.
Three Casti awaited in the lab on top of the Farnata who’d let us in. I recognized one of them as the Facility Director.
“The first First Contact only counts for one, not two,” the shorter Casti explained. “First the Casti and Farnata encountered each other: one. Then the Vorak: two. The Uriken are three, and you make the fourth First Contact.” The Casti stepped forward and offered me a palm facing the ceiling.
It overwhelmingly struck me as some kind of formal greeting like a handshake or bow, but I had no idea what my response was supposed to be. Did I take his hand? Did I return the gesture?
“He doesn’t know what that means, senior,” Tasser said.
If the Casti was ruffled, he didn’t show it.
“I thought he might not, but it would have been rude not to properly greet him. I am Anpiar Norgi.”
I nodded as respectfully as I could to him.
“Is ‘Anpiar’ a title or your name?” I asked.
“My name,” the Casti said coolly. “My position is that of auditor at this facility.”
I watched him intently to see if he was holding back any antipathy toward my question. Tasser had told me how much his people could prioritize formality, but it seemed this Mr. Norgi didn’t mind too much. Or, if he did, he was hiding it well.
“I recognize the Director,” I nodded to him. “And the other Casti strikes me as the physician I’m here to see.”
“What about him?” Tasser said, nodding toward the Farnata who let us in. “He could have been a doctor.”
“His uniform is different from the two outside the door,” I said. “But he’s got kneepads. That makes him…Chief of Security?”
“Niza,” the Farnata introduced himself. “You guessed right.”
Interestingly, he was not visibly armed, unlike the security personnel who’d escorted us here. I focused my psionics on him for a moment, and was stunned to discover he wasn’t Adept either.
Odd…
“I wanted to apologize in person for yesterdays events, Caleb Hane,” the Facility Director said. “Regardless of other factors, you are still a First Contact, and my conduct was inappropriate. I’m sorry. The Organic Authority’s oldest duties included keeping First Contact out of fleeting conflicts, and yesterday I failed to fulfil that duty.”
As good as it felt to have him apologize, I didn’t miss the fact that he didn’t say any more Coalition soldiers would be admitted. The reasons he had for denying them originally still stood.
He just felt badly about that, or at least wanted to say so.
“…Forgiven,” I said. But not forgotten.
I must have coincidentally landed somewhere close to proper etiquette because he put his hands behind his back after a moment’s hesitation—seemingly to conclude a bit of Casti social ritual.
Glancing at Tasser didn’t tell me anything more.
“I never properly introduced myself or the effort,” he said. “I am Directing Chief Mettan Hom-Heg, these are some of my most trusted subordinates, Chief of Security Niza Bak-Rit-Shen, Chief of Auditing Anpiar Norgi, and Chief of Medical Research Ormi Maburic. We are just some of those charged with operating this facility on behalf of the Organic Authority, and we intend to do everything in our power to ensure you do not come to harm.”
I psionically memorized each of their names and positions as he spoke. It stuck out to me that Maburic wasn’t ‘chief doctor’ or ‘chief of medicine’, but chief of research instead. There were probably more chiefs of this place.
Ugh , this was going to get complicated.
“Doctor Maburic here will be conducting preliminary and exploratory biopsies at your consent,” Director Hom-Heg said. “Are there any other questions you have for me?”
“Nothing medical comes to mind,” I said. “But where’s Nemuleki? I thought she was with you.”
“Commander Nemuleki was being given access to this lab,” the Farnata said. “She went to talk with the Vorak once she knew you were coming.”
“The commander clarified some details that went… unappreciated yesterday,” the Director said tactfully. “Your abduction was not fully understood.”
“Join the [club,]” I said.
The Director hid his confusion toward my English well, but not enough that I didn’t catch it for a moment. Still, he pressed on.
“It strikes me that your reason for submitting to our analysis is related to leaving this planet.”
“It is,” I confirmed cautiously.
“Because you want to learn more about your abductions and locate your home planet, I presume.”
I nodded, even more cautiously this time.
“Then with those objectives in mind, I’d like you to consider staying in the Organic Authority’s custody long term,” he said.
“Not likely,” I quickly returned.
“I understand your reticence, but the Coalition is a not a group prepared to truly assist you. They are ultimately a military, and as long as you’re in their custody you will be threatened by their enemies—by mere proximity even if nothing else.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but Tasser beat me to the punch. Only instead of rebuking them, he spoke to me.
“You should consider it, Caleb.”
“Why?”
“Exactly what he said. You’re not exactly safest with us. If the Organic Authority were responsible for you instead, any Vorak who wanted to come at you would have to cross the biggest interstellar organization behind the Congressional Assembly itself.”
“…You wouldn’t try to force my choice, would you?” I asked the Director.
“No.”
“Then I’ll think about it,” I said.
The Director nodded, “I won’t take more of your time then. You’re in good hands with Dr. Maburic, and I understand senior Norgi wanted to observe as well.”
Director Hom-Heg and the Chief of Security both exited the lab, leaving Tasser and I to contend with the Chief of Research and ‘senior auditor.’
“Is ‘senior’ a form of title?” I asked Tasser.
“Yes. You won’t hear it much in military groups—you would use rank instead—but it can also be…” he trailed off.
“Some find the term archaic,” Dr. Maburic supplied. “It’s supposed to be a versatile word to indicate respect or a high position.”
“Like [Mister,]” Tasser said. “But maybe with a tad more weight to it.”
I nodded thoughtfully and made sure to update my psionic entry. Huh. I hadn’t really thought about it, but making notes had more or less become reflex at this point. I barely even thought about recording details or observations.
“So why does an auditor want to observe?” I wondered.
Sr. Norgi gave a faint smile. “Curiosity is a virtue in my profession—most professions really. How could I pass this up?”
Fair enough.
“Well, doctor, what’s on today’s menu? I was told to be ready for a full-course meal.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“It’s funny you should phrase it that way…” the doctor said. “But we’ve several dozen tests to complete, and they’ll likely have to be repeated later just to confirm consistency across results. So let’s get started.”
·····
I was having a hard time figuring out the Organic Authority’s priorities about me. For the morning’s physical, there had been seven different physicians, every one of which seemed to have a different specialty and interest.
But this afternoon, it was just Dr. Maburic. Even with Sr. Norgi there too, Tasser and I still had to help set up half the experiments and equipment, just to make sure we kept moving at a good pace.
Even with three pairs of hands helping the doctor along, we still didn’t complete all the planned tests.
At first, the tests had been little more than pictures of me, especially ones of my arms and face. Then a form of x-ray that Tasser told me didn’t actually use light, but a modified artificial cascade again.
It was sample after sample after sample.
Hair, sweat, spit, urine, stool, even tears. They were the easy ones. I’d done similar tests with Dyn. The needles came out for the more serious tests.
One of the things that had first demanded I spend more time with Dyn, as opposed to just Tasser, was medical knowledge. Tasser just wasn’t equipped to teach me any biology beyond very simple anatomy. Arm. Leg. Anything past the basics had taken the two of them working together.
But the big reason I’d needed to cover those topics was related to quarantining.
Of the four sapient species of alien I’d met—Human, Vorak, Farnata, & Casti—they were all more or less mammals. My knowledge of taxonomy was strictly limited to the shallow end of the gene pool, but I knew some basic parameters.
Spines. Live young. Skin.
That last one was the most important. Skin, I’d learned, is a bit like a quarantine on its own. Of all the defenses my body had, skin was the single largest contributor to keeping harmful infections away from my poor vital organs.
It had thrown me when Tasser and Dyn first explained it. It was so simple I never really thought about it, but it was obvious once someone else pointed it out.
I still took outside contaminants in, breathing, drinking, eating. Even my eyes and ears being exposed to the open air was a possible way to get sick.
Local viruses weren’t compatible with my DNA—they had completely different base pairs. Bacteria and fungi didn’t depend on exact proteins matching. Their success depended on the environment.
If there was a Casti bacteria that could thrive in an ionic salt solution like that found in Casti tear ducts, then it was an undeniable risk that the same bacteria might thrive in the salty conditions of my own tear ducts.
Repeat ad nauseum for all the different ways Casti infections find a way in.
Dyn had found two things in our favor though, and Dr. Maburic had concurred after poring over the documentation the Coalition Medical Officer had sent with us.
Through long hours talking with me, Dyn had guessed that the most vulnerable spot for an infection to enter a human body was through the lungs.
And guess what I wore nearly round-the-clock?
Thanks to the air mask I needed to breathe in Yawhere’s atmosphere, almost no external microbes made it into my body. The few that did slip in through my ears, tear ducts, or through the tiny imperfections in my mask’s seal were outnumbered and outmatched by my immune system and Adept meta-microbes.
Needles, however, posed a new problem.
Open wounds didn’t usually allow new germs into the body, but it was an undeniable risk all the same. It was why it was so important to sterilize needles.
A syringe bypassed all the layers of security the body had, and if any bacteria managed to hitch a ride in that way, then it would have free rein.
Dyn had refused to risk anything more invasive than a blood draw for that exact reason, and even then, he’d been paranoid and insisted using a special needle apparatus that evacuated the air from around the injection site on top of the normal sterilization procedures.
The Organic Authority had the facilities to take some more risks though.
Dr. Maburic wanted to biopsy some of my internal organs after I’d been able to point out which ones were my kidneys, liver, and intestines.
“Biopsies sound like the thing I would need to be sedated for,” I pointed out. “And unless you’ve solved my biochemistry when I wasn’t looking…”
The Chief of Research nodded. “No, they won’t happen today. But I’d like to try pursuing the prerequisites and it seemed imprudent to not inform you what I’m aiming for.”
“Fair enough,” I said. This had been an exhausting day, but apparently it wasn’t done yet. We were barely through the first third of scans.
“Whatever the case, it will likely have to wait until tomorrow,” Tasser said. “I told my commanders we would be back by sundown.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Dr. Maburic said, “What time is it—”
He swore when he saw the clock.
“Okay, we’ll have to continue tomorrow. I didn’t realize it was this late. Can I convince you to finish one last scan?”
“Can you explain it while it gets set up?” I asked.
“It’s already set up, Senior Norgi has assembled the projector.”
“Fine,” I said.
“Alright, just stand in front of the projector and the screen. This won’t take a moment.”
I frowned. There had been a lot of experiments today, but this one seemed familiar.
“This projector wouldn’t happen to be for detecting augmentations would it?”
The Chief of Research clicked the button and the same flash as before struck my body, “Yes it is, how did you know?”
Tasser burst out laughing and I might have joined him if I wasn’t so hungry.
“The other doctors did this this morning,” I said. “You’re going to see material in my hands, feet, tendons, and ligaments. If that’s all, we need to go Tasser?”
“Ah…” Dr. Maburic said awkwardly. “My mistake. Go then. Security should escort you back to your accommodations.
Senior Norgi stayed with him to pack up the equipment, but Tasser and I were eager to get back to our allies. I hadn’t heard from Nai since she’d checked in, and we hadn’t found the right moment to test our telepathy’s range properly, so I didn’t know if she’d been trying to contact me.
“Let’s hurry back,” I told Tasser.
·····
I’d set up my air barrier so I could eat my evening ration without getting short of breath.
Nai and I swept the room for bugs yet again, and now it was time to check in.
“Pen’s body is only two floors below the public area. There’s a cavity behind the wall, my best guess is a remodeling project someone forgot about,” Nai said.
Ah. I could see the spot. It was tiny. It was just big enough to stash a body.
“Why hasn’t it been found already?” Adden asked.
“I didn’t get close enough to check for sure, but I think the chamber is airtight,” Nai said grimly.
“Doesn’t that imply he suffocated to death?”
“I thought Farnata didn’t commit suicide…” Letrin breathed.
Nai gave him a sharp look, but didn’t say anything. It was subtle, and I only saw because I knew them both, but Tasser gave a tiny movement like he was ready to hold her back, and she saw it. As far as I could tell, no one else had noticed the wordless exchange.
She took a steady breath, and Letrin winced.
“Sorry,” he said. “That was—”
“At ease,” Nai said. “I get it. There is an exception to that though.”
“Purpose,” Nemuleki said. “Farnata don’t kill themselves for anything less than dedicated intent. He could have sealed himself in, knowing he’d die, if it meant completing his mission.”
“His contact,” Corphica guessed. “He entrusted the ‘potential threat’ to whoever was helping him. Otherwise it would be found with his body, and he had no way of guaranteeing who found him.”
“I agree,” Nai said. “But that brings us to a rather massive problem.”
“You were with Umtane all day,” Nemuleki said. “What else did you find?”
Nai handed her a small packet of documents. “These are purchasing records for accounts that the Deep Coils were monitoring. Look at the highlighted activity.”
“Five hundred grams of catalytic agent-1107941…this is one of the accounts for the Green Complex?”
Nai nodded. “It wasn’t listed in the ordinary books though. Director Hom-Heg and Umtane have been leaning on the accounting departments here for the last week trying to figure it out.”
Nemuleki continued reading down the list. “They repeat the purchase seven more times over the last three months. Tell me that’s not the catalytic agent you need for a Lestrazine weapon.”
“Right again,” Nai said. “Ordinarily it wouldn’t have raised flags on its own, but the same account bought an exotic filter used in the same processes. Umtane showed me his evidence, this is why he’s here, and I have to say, I think he’s right. Someone here is developing an anti-Vorak bioweapon.”
Nemuleki found the filter purchase in question on the doc.
“We were already operating the assumption that there was,” Adden pointed out. “So since you’re acting like this still changes something; I’m guessing this changes something.”
“I’m positive that Pen’s contact is still alive,” Nai said. “I looked over Umtane’s personnel investigation and every employee with access to the area that Pen’s body is in showed up for their shifts both today and yesterday.”
“Oh…” Tasser said grimly.
“Yeah…” Nai said.
“Spell it out for the audience would you?” I asked. “I understand it, obviously, but you know, Casti like Letrin might not have missed a detail.”
“Pen was a Coalition Adept, and someone here helped him,” Tasser said. “That someone must be fairly sympathetic to the Coalition, right?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Wrong,” Nai said. “Letrin, tell him why?”
“Pen’s ally doesn’t have to like the Coalition, just dislike the Vorak.”
“Oh.” It clicked in my head. “Dislike them enough to make bioweapon?”
“Now you’re there. It seems very likely that Pen’s contact and Umtane’s bioterrorist are the same Casti,” Nai said.
“That’s why Pen’s contact hasn’t reached out to us,” Adden realized. “The first thing we said when we got here was that we wouldn’t condone a bioweapon. We’re even helping find the culprit.”
“It’s not certain that they’re the same person,” Nai said. “The possibility that Pen’s contact is in one of the long-term-isolation labs still exists. But…”
“That’s a thin chance,” Tasser remarked.
“If we really are hunting for Pen’s ally, what do we do about his body?” Corphica asked.
“I talked with Nemuleki about it today, but we didn’t want to commit to any course of action without consulting everyone first.”
“…We think we should investigate the body with Umtane,” Nemuleki shared.
We all stared at her patiently.
“Huh, I thought you all would be a bit more vocal about that,” she muttered.
“Oh, I think it’s a terrible idea,” Tasser said. “But it seemed like you were about to explain why you think it’s not.”
“It’s going to put a lot of scrutiny on us,” Nemuleki conceded, “but the body is our only source of information right now. If we don’t investigate Pen, we’ll never figure out who he had contact with.”
“And Umtane gets to learn there’s a dead Coalition Adept sealed in the facility walls,” Tasser retorted. “There’s no way to develop those leads without it bringing both the Vorak and the Organic Authority down on us.”
“Tasser, we’re stuck without a way forward. And if we say nothing and Pen’s body gets uncovered anyway?”
Tasser bit off a response. That was a good point. The Organic Authority had been wary at best, and even if Umtane had been cordial this morning, I didn’t think for a second he would stay that way if he found an opening on us.
“We could—”
“There’s no way we can investigate Pen’s body stealthily, Tasser,” Nai said. “Even if we could lose the eyes on us, there’s no way we could avoid leaving a trail. They would find out. Better this happens on our terms.”
“What’s the story then?” Letrin asked. “We can’t just say ‘wow, we found it by accident!’ It isn’t believable.”
“It isn’t true either…” Nemuleki said. “What if we told the truth?”
“Wait!” I said, putting my hand up to quiet the other Casti. “Let her finish, then we can laugh.”
“I’m serious,” she said. “It doesn’t have to be everything, but why not tell the truth? We got an anonymous note talking about a dead Adept here and some unspecified mission.”
“None of which takes the pressure off us or Caleb,” Nai pointed out.
“It might, if we bring it up before someone else finds it. We would be setting aside divisions in trust to make sure that First Contact keeps going smoothly.”
“It still clues in Umtane that we had ulterior motives coming here,” Nai said.
“He thinks that anyway,” I said.
“The more important problem is that it implicates Caleb in our deception, or that we brought him here under false pretenses. Either way, we have a big problem with the Org. Director Hom-Heg will be furious if he thinks we lied to Caleb,” Tasser said.
“He’s right,” Nai pointed out. “This decision affects how the Org. is going to see you. No matter how Pen’s body gets found, some of it blows back on you. Either we lied to you, or you knew we weren’t telling everything when we arrived.”
“The latter is extremely risky,” Tasser said. “The Vorak are already treating him as a target. Even if the Vorak have nothing to do with his abduction—”
“—fat chance—” I interjected,
“—then keeping a secret with us is only going to make you more of a target,” he finished.
“We can’t say you lied to me,” I decided. “That sounds like the kind of thing the Organic Authority would use to justify keeping me here while forcing you out.”
“I won’t lie, Caleb, this whole thing would have been a lot easier if Admiral Laranta hadn’t read you in,” Nai said.
“Not lying to me, means you have to lie about not lying to me…” I said. “How do you keep it all straight in your head?”
Nai and Nemuleki both shrugged in unison. As long as this mission was ongoing, they held the provisional rank of commander. Tasser had told me that it wasn’t like an ordinary rank, but a contextual one. Simply, a commander was whoever was in command.
But they were both implicitly leaving the decision in my hands. Well, maybe not the final decision, but the conditional one. If the situation arose, would we say the Coalition lied to me? Or that I was aware from the start?
The trouble with the former was obvious, but the latter didn’t just implicate me, it meant that if someone found out about the data drive, then it would still look like the Coalition had lied to me anyway.
Although, if things devolved to that point, we’d have more immediate problems.
“It’s your mission,” I said, “but I can live with them thinking I knew from the start. Nemuleki is right, it’s more or less the truth. I don’t even have to lie about anything. I wouldn’t lose sleep if whoever made the bioweapon wound up in Vorak custody.”
“No one would,” Nai guessed. “Are you sure you’ve thought this through enough?”
“Not enough,” I admitted. “But I have thought about it. And if I understand what kind of people you are, I don’t think anyone of us would prioritize the data drive over stopping a bioweapon. There might not be that many Vorak on the planet, but there’s still a lot more civilians than there are fleet personnel.”
Nemuleki nodded. “Then the other problem is Pen himself. If we say that we’re here to investigate Pen’s body and identify his contact, then we’re implicating Pen in the bioweapon’s development, even tangentially.”
“That depends on what the body turns up,” Nai pointed out. “It’s possible Pen learned about his ally making a bioweapon and opposed it. He might have been murdered and his body hidden.”
“The note indicates otherwise,” Tasser gently pointed out.
“I know, I know…” Nai said. “I just don’t like the idea of trading another Farnata’s reputation for diplomatic cover.”
“We won’t if we don’t have to…” Nemuleki said. The rest went unspoken and Nai steeled herself. It wasn’t a pleasant option, but if they had to? They would.
Too much was at stake.