2092-12-02 Local Time 1748
BetaMountain – MedoStation
Day 154
"Your counts have been remarkably stable for the last several days. I think we can risk it." Dr. Miyar laid his fingertips together and watched the patient in front of his desk.
"That means I can get out of this slammer after all?"
The physician smiled briefly. "Yes. I'm going to register you as an outpatient tomorrow morning. And to make it absolutely clear: I'll see you here every morning at 0830." He stressed the last sentence with a growling sound. "In case you should forget – I can growl better than you at the moment!"
"Do you have fangs to bite me, too?"
Miyar preferred to ignore the question. "Come, I'll give you your medications first and explain their use. You'll take them the first time this evening in the presence of a nurse."
"I don't need a nanny!"
"But we need confirmation that you know how to use the stuff before we can let you out of here! And then I'll set you up with a medolink to let us know where you are and what your bio counts are like."
"That's out of the question!"
"You want to get out of here, don't you?"
"I won't let a roach have its eyes fixed on my private life!"
"It's for you own safety."
"No! My life is mine!"
"You might not be able to reach a sender in an emergency."
"Then give me a release form."
"The risk is significantly higher without a permanent surveillance of your bio counts."
"It's that – or you'll have to put up with me for considerably longer here!" The growl in Goose's voice became more aggressive. "And I'm really starting to hate it here!"
"All right, then." Miyar made a short note. "We'll give you an emergency transponder. They're passive. But I want to have your signature on it that I informed you of the risks and you insisted on the passive version."
"Fine."
"I expect that my personnel will throw a joyful celebration when they're finally rid of you."
The wolfish grin deepened. "Tell them I'll be there, too."
"The injector contains the same bronchospasmolyticum we gave you here when you were having an attack. It's secured, which means it emits a max of three shots within 24 hours, no more. Simply lay the injection field on the skin and fire, ideally over one of the large muscles, as in your upper arm or thigh. If you can't reach a large muscle you can use any other bare skin in an emergency. A set of ten thousand microneedles is used in the injector, so you shouldn't feel anything except the temperature of the cooled medicine." Dr. Miyar gave Goose a flat pen. "Carry it with you at all times, but look after it with great care. For somebody with healthy lungs, the substance is life-threatening. Usually we don't release this stuff at all, but you don't respond to any other drug."
"Okay." Goose put the injector into his shirt pocket and buttoned it. "Go on." Miyar gave him a small transparent tube with white tablets inside, each of which had a diameter of about two centimeters. The ST looked at them, nauseated. "I don't have to swallow them, do I?"
The physician laughed out loud. "Of course you do, but not till they've dissolved. Like this they wouldn't make it even through your big mouth." He grew serious again. "It's a strong expectorant. You've begun to bring up the contaminants in your lungs. It's likely that from time to time mucus will get stuck in your throat or in the upper respiratory tract. These tablets are strong enough to correct that within two hours of taking them. Take them even if you aren't sure, always with a lot of liquid and never – never at all! – on an empty stomach. Otherwise they'll eat away your stomach lining, too."
"Charming."
"This is a circulatory preparation–"
"I wish you'd shut up about stabilizers!"
"I know you don't take these very well, and you should take them only as necessary when your blood pressure sags. You know for yourself what comes next."
"So it's better to puke than to suffocate."
"Correct. You've got a remarkable ability for self-observation, Gooseman. Usually you react faster than the medocomps sound the alarm. That's why I can already let you out of here."
"Before this started, my daily life contained some options for which that was indispensible." He made an unconscious gesture with his now unchangeable fingers.
"I know. And I guess I can count on you to take the stabilizer in an emergency."
"Yes."
"Fine, then we come to the transponder..."
2092-12-03 Local Time 1024
BetaMountain – MedoStation
Day 155
"Out of here after all!" He stuffed his few things into the space sac she'd brought with her and put the readpad into its protective cover. "I hope I can keep it for a while longer. I haven't finished yet."
"Will you show me your results later?"
"Of course." He tried to suppress a coughing fit.
"Are you sure that you're allowed to leave?"
"Yes." He took several deep breaths and ignored the wheezing during the last third of the exhalation. "But it'll take quite a while to get to my place." He made a nauseated face. "Snail's pace."
"I'd prefer to have Zach and Doc here." She slung the space sac over her shoulder. "We'd be there in a few minutes if we used Zach's internal glider."
"Not necessarily. Do you remember – cramped, closed rooms?"
"Ouch. Sorry. But at least they could've carried the luggage."
"Give it to me."
"Do you want Miyar to pin me to the wall?" She laughed. "Nothing of the sort, Goose. You'll go home, well-behaved as a very good, obedient little patient."
He looked questioningly around. "You talking about me?"
2092-12-03 Local Time 1151
BetaMountain – MPQ 217
Day 155
Gooseman stopped in the middle of the corridor and looked through the gallery's panoramic window. Niko turned round to look at him. "Are you all right?"
"There's snow out there."
"It's December. Weather control sometimes allows even Phoenix some flakes to do the kids a favor."
"The trees were green the last time I was here."
She blinked in surprise; he'd been ill for more than five months. Even the few times he'd been allowed to leave MedoStat, the less controlled outer areas of the base had been forbidden as too far away. The common room window looked out to the north. From there it was impossible to see the natural lakeshore and the garden. For the first time, he was getting an impression of the time he had lost...
"And what did you want in my quarters?" The question came immediately and was pretty wary. They reached his living unit and she put down the space sac.
"We wanted to clean it before you came home. What did you think, then? Nobody's been in there since the security staff left. But we couldn't open the door." She smiled at the memory. "Doc worked for more than four hours with all of his programs on your lock – without success. Boy, he was pissed, I can tell you!"
Goose grinned devilishly. "Music to my ears."
She laughed out loud. "I should warn you – when he gets back, he'll squeeze the keycode out of you."
"He can try!" Goose turned for the lock, released the keyboard with a palm print... and stopped, fingers trembling some centimeters above the controls.
"Shane, what's wrong?" She noticed, worried, that he supported himself on the wall. "Everything okay?"
He tried to control the shivering of his hands, reached again for the controls, and reeled back with a gasp to the opposite wall. "I can't..."
"Can't you remember the code?"
"Not that." He breathed in heavy, loud drags which he controlled almost violently. "I can't go in there." He turned his back towards the door, propped himself with cramped hands against the wall again, and hid his face between his upper arms. "It's impossible."
"Shane..." She sensed for him, felt the twisting tension of suppressed panic inside him and searched for the roots of it...
He whirled round toward her. The sound of his breathing got louder. He seemed almost pursued. "I don't understand it. I..."
"You nearly died in there," she reminded him cautiously. "Maybe–"
"I've nearly died in other places, too, Niko. And I had no problems visiting the places again."
"And you survived in those places because you're an ST, right?" Slowly she grasped what was wrong with him. "But here you nearly died – because of what you are, an ST." He simply stared at her, refused to follow her line of thought. She slung the space sac over her shoulder again. "Come on."
"What–"
"I'm solving two problems at once." She smiled at him. "Mine and yours."
"Where're we going?"
"You're coming home with me. I've never liked the idea of leaving you alone right now anyway. They still haven't got the son of a bitch who did this to you, after all."
"We can't do this. You know the regulations." His mouth twitched. "And the special feature in my papers."
"I don't give a damn about it. You're still off duty, and likely will be for quite some time to come."
"That won't simplify the disciplinary proceedings. At the least, when I change my address, all hell will break loose."
"If that's all..." Niko rummaged in her jacket pocket for a piece of note transparency and a pen and handed them to him. "Go on, write down... – Good, that should be enough." She wedged the notice behind the glass nameplate in the middle of the door where it could be easily read and shut the keyboard firmly. "Let's go."
Until further notice,
please deliver my mail to Ranger Niko in apartment 219. Thank you.
S. Gooseman
"Well, don't make such a face. We'll come to an arrangement, you'll see." Niko dropped the space sac with his things onto the bed and looked in amusement at Possessor in Goose's arms. The cat had driven its claws into shirt and trousers and squeezed its head between the two lower buttons of Shane's shirt. There was no way he'd let his feeder escape for another five months. "17798 was definitely less comfortable."
"It won't work this way." He looked uneasily at her, trying to remove the cat from his trousers at least. "I have to sleep nearly sitting."
"Oh." She looked around. "The bed is divisible. We can push your half into the corner over there; then you'll have support on two sides."
"Niko, I–"
"If you're getting to your coughing at night and that you might keep me awake – forget it! I'll sleep much better when I know you're here than I would if I were brooding about you possibly dying a wretched death at that very moment!" She looked at him with flashing eyes. "Give it up! You won't get rid of me!" She prodded him in the chest with her index finger, with the result that Poss finally let Goose go and rubbed, purring, around their legs. "And you won't slip away from me, either!!"
He raised his hands disarmingly. "Who am I to run from a beautiful woman who wants to have me in her bedroom?"
"Charmer."
"What's the ventilation look like?" He searched for the access tubes in the ceiling.
"My windows open, Shane. This apartment lies next to the outer walls. The humming of the ventilation system got on my nerves."
"These quarters are independent from the base system?"
"I can switch it on, if necessary."
"No." He looked, fascinated, at the broad window line. "It's very comforting."
She thought of the gas grenade's hiss just before... "I think so, too." She rummaged around in her bag. "From the next room you can go outside. They cut a kind of balcony into one of the ledges." When she turned to look for him, she found that he had already disappeared. She followed him, discovered him outside, clothed as he was – in the thin shirt that was far too large after his long illness and opened down to the middle of his chest because he couldn't bear the feeling of anything touching his throat. It was gathered with a broad elastic belt at his trousers – which were too large now, too – because the belt eased the pain in his sides during the coughing. He dug his hand into the snow on the balustrade. "Shane! You'll catch your death of cold. Put something on first."
"The cold's just what I need."
Your doctor says something different!"
"He doesn't know anything about it."
"Come in. Please..."
He obeyed because of her imploring voice. His hand was still wet with snow. He licked the melting water from his fingers. "Wonderful."
She slammed the door behind him. "Don't ever do that again." He didn't answer...
2092-12-07 Local Time 1038
BetaMountain – MPQ 219
Day 159
"Gooseman, my Goose man. I'd just like to know how you do it." Hartford, rewiring the cables in Niko's console, shook his head theatrically. "I'm away for just five days and just like that you move in with the hottest girl at BETA." Doc grinned at Goose over his shoulder and started to hammer on the keyboard. "And not only that. No! The lady literally talked you into doing it. Lord, I'd give anything to have that much of an impact on women."
"It's simple, Doc." He was interrupted by dry coughing. "Nearly snuff it and risk suffocating every night."
"And now we're manipulating the computer system so no one will notice that you aren't where you are..." Doc grinned and pulled a wry face. "If she'd only make such an effort for me, even once."
"Then you'd have a real problem." The growl in Goose's voice was clearly audible in spite of the faint wheezing in his breath.
"Except the commander, what's this effort for, anyway? As far as I know, they gave you an emergency transponder, after all." Doc pointed at the dark grey metal band around Goose's left wrist.
"The culprit is still at large."
"And you're frightened to sleep alone where he can get you?" Doc laughed.
"She's frightened of me sleeping alone where he can get me." Doc just rolled his eyes. "And that I'm maybe not fast enough to trigger the alarm when I have an acute attack and the medicine doesn't take effect."
"You mean you could still...?"
"Yes."
The hacker shuddered, turned again to the computer. "Okay... Well, if you enter your ID, the system will automatically create a virtual interlink to your terminal. I didn't lay a physical circuit because any idiot of a technician can find that. For this..." with his chest puffed out, he patted the reinstalled cover, "you'd need a genius." He folded his CDU and pushed it back into his belt. "While I'm thinking of it... Zach is coming this afternoon. Get ready for a heavy bollocking; he said something about morals. And Gooseman..."
"Yes?"
"If somebody should stumble across this here anyway – I was never here. Okay?"
"I'll pass it on."
Doc put his hand to his forehead and groaned. "I was afraid of that."
2092-12-07 Local Time 1406
BetaMountain – MPQ 219
Day 159
"Are you two–" Zachary interrupted himself in the middle of his sentence when Gooseman fully opened the door, stepped back to let him in, and moved into daylight. Damn! I have to apologize to Niko. I wouldn't let him live alone the way he looks, either. Now that he's wearing his own clothing again, it's strikingly apparent how ill he really was. He must have lost at least fifteen kilograms. In those grey-white things at MedoStat everybody looks like a corpse, but...
"What?"
"Forget it." Zach made a dismissive gesture and walked down the stairs to the main room. "How're you doing?"
"Not too badly." Goose choked with coughing. Zach noticed that he'd made it only halfway down the stairs so far. Gooseman actually had his hand on the railing. Fox had to squash the impulse to help him. He'd tear me to pieces in midair if I tried it.
"Eliza asked me to extend an offer to eat with us," he said finally after Goose had reached him and taken a seat in one of the chairs around the table.
"Sounds good, but I don't think it would work."
"We only live three side corridors away. If nothing else, she'll send little Zach over to you with a pot."
That's not the point. A lot of food doesn't agree with me. Could kill me."
"Because of the medicines?"
"Allergies."
"But how? You always had an iron stomach. When I think of what you used to eat..." Zach shook his head, a bit nauseated at the memory.
"No idea. They found out when the first solid meal I got nearly killed me."
Fox swore faintly. "You didn't let any possible side effect be, did you? Do you have a list of the stuff you're allergic to?"
"I'll get it. But it's quite long."
"I doubt that Eliza will be put off by it. I've got the impression she's decided to mother you, Goose." Zachary watched the ST, who pushed himself up and walked slowly with very controlled steps to a tiny board by the wall next to the bed. "There's no holding her back then."
"I can't stand it – another one. First I don't have parents at all and now my near demise leaves me with two mothers." Goose grinned, coughing, at the stupid expression on Fox's face as he returned slowly with a compact printed transparency. "What were you thinking Niko was doing, eh?" He pushed the transparency towards Zach.
Fox skimmed through it. "Milk sugar? You're allergic to lactose? My god, and this happens to the one who ate two cream cakes with marzipan off the buffet at Eliza's rebirthing party and complained afterwards about too few servings."
"Tell her her cakes are safe for the moment."
"I do. But lactose – I don't get it. The allergy is hereditary. You can't develop it just like that."
"What do you mean?"
"My mother was allergic to lactose, Goose. My brother and I had a gentech treatment in vivo to prevent us from having it, too."
"You were genetically changed, Zach?"
"No. Only the defective gene in the DNA strand was corrected. That's why my children and I are healthy."
"That doesn't make any sense. Why should anybody build a genetic defect into the STJ? And why didn't I react to milk earlier?"
"Good questions, Goose. But–" Fox was interrupted by heavy coughing from Goose. The ST staggered to his feet and stumbled for the bathroom. Zach followed him, worried. Gooseman hung over the washbasin. The coughing seemed nearly to tear up the meager body... Finally a tiny, yellow-green drop of mucus splashed into the porcelain basin. With heavy breaths Goose straightened up, propped himself on the basin, and flushed it with lots of water. Then he felt for a bottle of disinfectant spray on top of the mirror closet above the basin. Fox fetched it down when the ST nearly collapsed again because his arms gave out, disinfected the basin, and ran water after it again while Goose sat wheezing on the edge of the bathtub. "Are you okay?"
"Mo...ment... plea...se..."
Zachary had to tear himself away from the ST's face, covered as it was with cold sweat, and so he looked around the bathroom. It was obvious why the phials and small bottles no longer stood on the washbasin. Two cardboard boxes next to the washer were the most conspicuous change: one of them held blue-and-white clothing, the other black. A grey, shaded sock lay in front of them. Looks like Goose's housekeeping. The sock must have been in the wrong box... – That, and a big, hand-drawn sign above the toilet – definitely Niko's handwriting: SIT DOWN, OR ELSE...! The exclamation mark greatly resembled a guillotine. Involuntarily grinning, Zach asked, "Do you go along with it?"
"I think it wouldn't be my head she'd have in it if I didn't." Goose got some of his breath back; still trembling a bit, he grinned up at Zach and asked with raised brows, "Would you risk it?" He got up. "Come to the kitchen? I need to get something to drink."
Gooseman pulled a big mug out of the kitchen cupboard, filled it halfway with orange juice, and drank slowly with three fingers put through the handle. Then he took a seat opposite Zachary at the kitchen table and pushed the mug away from him with an unsteady finger. Of course, the things are less fragile than glasses.
"My goodness, Goose. Who in all the worlds gave that mug to you?" Zachary pulled the green mug with the multicolored design closer to himself and read the writing: WARNING – THE OWNER OF THIS MUG IS LESS INTELLIGENT THAN A BAARVOOLIAN SPONGEFISH UNTIL HE HAS AT LEAST TWO BUCKETS OF COFFEE...
"Niko. Yesterday, after she realized once and for all that it's easier to give up her moral principles than to get me awake enough in the morning that I'm able to keep to her bathroom schedule."
"Bathroom schedule?" Zach handed the mug back to him.
Gooseman grinned. "I have to turn up at MedoStat every morning at 0830 or Miyar triggers the general alarm, and she has to go to work at the same time."
"That's good. I still remember what happened when Eliza and I had different shifts at the beginning. We always wakened each other until we could finally start working at the same time."
"But that's the problem, Zach." Gooseman turned the mug in front of him on the table, looked at the fish slamming against the glass. "She's got a minutely detailed morning rhythm. And her schedule was like that, too." Gooseman grinned again. "I can't remember it in detail – but I know that at 0638 I had eleven and a half minutes to take a shower." The green eyes sparkled. "Unfortunately, I need an average of eight minutes to figure out what I'm supposed to do next. And three and a half minutes is just too short a time to take a shower."
Fox laughed at the top of his lungs. "Did she really count in half minutes?"
"No idea how anybody can be that awake at that time."
"And what do you two do now?" Zachary asked, still snickering.
"We use it together and ignore each other." At Fox's doubtfully raised brows: "Officially."
2092-12-14 Local Time 0442
BetaMountain – MPQ 219
Day 166
The smell of coffee tickled her nose, wakened her. Strong coffee. Real coffee. Still half asleep, she raised her head and looked at the alarm clock next to her bed: 0445. What's... Shane. His bed was empty. She got up, slung the dressing gown around herself, and walked into the kitchen. He sat at the table with his back towards her. Poss lay curled up next to his elbow. She was still amazed at how quickly the cat had learned that Shane needed some distance to enjoy company now. The coffee in the glass pot was deep black. Writing transparencies and datapads were piled up around it. "What happened? Are you okay?"
He looked back at her. "My blood pressure has become irregular. It's better if I stay awake. I didn't want to wake you." He pointed at the coffee pot. "Coffee? But it's strong."
She made a face. "I already know your coffee. Is the mug still alive?"
"Possibly."
"Then hand it over." She took a cautious sip and began to shovel sugar into the slop. "Do you think it's going to be serious?"
He felt inside himself for a moment and shook his head. "No, I reacted quickly enough. But it'll take a few hours. Looks like I'm going to sleep again after I visit Miyar." He shrugged and looked at his notes.
"Are the files Doc and I organized helpful in any way?"
"Yes. Have a look..."
She started to read, stopped short, began to read again...
| Substance Number | 46652 |
|---|---|
| Form of Use | Gas |
| Recommended Quantity | 0.1 g/m³ |
| Grade of Accuracy | 100 % |
| Effect at recommended quantity | 6 sec to immobilization,
28 sec to exitus of participants due to cell dissolution. |
| Comments | Substance 46652 is totally tissue transitive within artificial DNA; therefore, it is lethal even in considerably lower doses than at the recommended quantity. The amount of time to immobilization and exitus of participants is significantly longer at lower doses. Because of the participants' physical abilities I strictly advise against reducing the recommended quantity.
The effects of substance 46652 are independent of the type of genetic optimization, as it is based on the standard fill sequence that isn't included in natural DNA. |
| Recommendations | Use of substance 46652 Genomtoxin in gas grenades type carrier-3 or smaller as standard equipment against escaped test subjects, as no danger to the population exists. |
| Signed | Owen Negata, scientific leader STP/GTP
|
...and lowered the sheet, horrified. "Shane, do you realize what this means?"
"Yeah. So now we ask, not: 'How did I nearly get killed by this stuff that didn't have any effect on you?', but: 'Why didn't it kill me?'"
"That isn't all." She looked at him, her face deathly pale. "Think of the date. Shane, this file is from December 29, 2086."
"Earth entered the League in May. The experiments for this infernal stuff must have taken place during the negotiations."
"And the BWL passed laws against genetic warfare just at the beginning of the talks – as a sign of goodwill."
"You don't see far enough," he said flatly."'...6 sec to immobilization, 28 sec to exitus of participants due to cell dissolution.' You don't describe mice as 'participants,' Niko."
"You don't mean... Shane, apart from the escapees the whereabouts of the other STs are still known. The cryocrypt is checked regularly. They couldn't have any human test subjects available."
"Yes! They had test subjects available, people nobody would ever ask about." He clamped his hands together, propped himself with his fists on the table, tipped his head back with a jerk to stare at the ceiling, and began to speak in a cynical voice without looking at her. "At the beginning it was a band of plastic tight around your wrist with a number on it. Mine was 1643453. You couldn't take it off. You had two years to prove yourself. After that a letter was added to the number – an A or a V. I got a V."
He briefly searched her eyes, then looked away again. "I left the base for the first time when they put us into an aircraft to see if we could survive the crash. It was an island with a single airfield and a landing stage. There were no other links to the outside world. During that month only three contacts occurred and none of us left the island, but I never saw those with an A again."
He looked into her ghost-white face and added faintly: "Some of us thought the V stood for victorious, but it meant viable. At Wolf Den an A meant abandon."
"But experiments on human beings?" Her voice trembled. "That close to the final entry? Shane... that's impossible."
He looked bitterly at her with a face that seemed carved of ice. "A lot of people would tell you that they weren't humans. They feared the V's, but nobody ever asked about the A's." After a moment he continued in a faltering voice. "And not before the entry. That was in May, Niko. I know Negata's working style better than I like. If these tests had occured before May, the file would also be dated before May. And on top of that, the breakout was in July 2084. It took almost 18 months to turn Negata into the brain unit. He couldn't have finished the tests before the signing of the entry agreement. And Niko..." He held her eyes fixedly. "The STP was closed at the end of July 2084."
"And?"
"Negata's signature. Either the STP must have been reopened to develop chemical weapons against STs or the GTP was never closed."
"Walsh and Negata?"
"I don't think so..." He shook his head. "What happened at Wolf Den at that time... wasn't their fault. But I've got a pretty clear idea of who'd have an interest in and be in the position to carry something like that through to the end. And I'd put a year's pay on it that he's also the wirepuller behind this assassination attempt on me."
She slung her arms around herself and simply looked at him, noticed the trembling of his cramped hands on the table, his convulsively controlled breathing. She stretched her hand towards him, pushed her fingers under his. "I'm afraid, Shane," she whispered.
He didn't answer, only clenched his fist painfully around her hand. When she twitched he let her go and got up with unsteady knees. "I'll secure the transparencies in a better way. If somebody should find them here..." He left the sentence unfinished.
"What are you going to do?"
"I'll build a little 'reading block' into your artifact. If anyone opens the thing without quoting the code unsolicited within 30 seconds, the statue will blow up."
"It's irreplacable, Shane."
"So are our asses!"
2092-12-14 Local Time 0838
BetaMountain – MedoStation
Day 166
"You're running late today, Gooseman." Dr. Miyar walked towards him. "I should give you a good hiding."
"My reaction would hardly do you any good."
"I think so, too. – And at risk of your growl: How are you today?"
"Good."
"Liar. Your counts are an entire 5 percent worse than yesterday. Have you slept enough?" Miyar tipped off the daily checklist scrupulously.
"Why don't you make blanks to mark with crosses, Doctor?" The patient was already somewhere else with his thoughts. "Would shorten the whole thing. I'll fill in the answers during the test and then I can leave."
The physician laughed out loud. "With your love of truth regarding your personal condition? Never in life, Gooseman."
"Do you want it in death, then?" The half-smile was somehow wolfish. "I can arrange that."
"No thanks. – And I'll prescribe an enema for you if you say 'pity' now."
"You don't allow me even the simplest pleasures."
"That's my job. – Your lung counts have risen further. Your breathing volume is at 76 percent. You definitely exceed the prognosis at this point. Fine. – How are the allergies?"
"Since I've got the list I can cope with them." He hesitated and suddenly looked attentively at the physician. "Say, is it correct that lactose allergy is hereditary?"
Strictly speaking it isn't an allergy, Gooseman." The physician put the check mark behind the last item on his list. "Actually we talk about lactose intolerance. Because of a defective gene within their genetic makeup, those affected can't produce lactase, the enzyme that breaks down milk sugar – lactose – during the digestive process. Therefore milk sugar is an unusable substance for them."
"Then they are allergic to it?"
"Only with extremely high quantities or when their body system is severely destabilized like yours. Usually an adult doesn't notice the defect at all. It's only important for infants who can't drink their mother's milk and therefore are prone during their first years. That's why the defect has been corrected in vivo for the past 45 years."
"That means an adult who has it has a totally normal life?"
"Certainly. In every meal there are substances your body can't use and that just run through us. For someone with lactose intolerance it's just one more."
"So it's undetectable in an adult except with a genetic test?"
"Exactly. Though most of them have pills somewhere in case they accidentally exceed their MMM."
"MMM?"
"'Maximum-milk-mass.'" Miyar snickered. "Sorry, that's shorthand from my student years. But, say, since when are you interested in this? It's quite unusual for a space jockey like you."
"I hate boredom! And this affair," growling, he snapped his currently non-adaptable fingers, "is absolutely, sickeningly boring. Can you show me the abnormality?"
"Sure. No problem with a gene scan." The physician smiled. "Come on, if you don't mind, we'll take yours. It's rare that a patient is interested in the background of his problems. You're quite unusual, Gooseman. Most just want me to help them. The how doesn't matter to them."
"That takes more trust than I've got."
"I believe it."
"Can I get a copy of it? As a souvenir?"
"Pretty bizarre. But why not? I've seen patients who wanted their appendix in alcohol." Miyar shrugged his shoulders. "A memory chip is surely a more pleasant reminder."
"My decoration is complete. If I need dead flesh for decoration, I'll take it from my enemies."
Miyar shuddered in horror. If only I could be sure what's his brand of humor and what's serious. He watched Gooseman putting the chip into his pocket and noticed the shifty glow in his eyes. The man is physically only a shadow of himself, but the predator within him is wide awake!
2092-12-14 Local Time 1016
BetaMountain – Outer Way
Day 166
The feeling came suddenly, unexpectedly, like an old friend – antagonists. His senses leaped ahead and backwards – behind him, pursuers, three, humanoid, likely humans. The intellect grasped the surroundings, drew a raster map in his consciousness, marked every barrier, every cover – too few, escape routes too long, no options. The inner senses checked his condition: the weakened muscles, the unsteady hands, the slight burning in the lungs that showed up in the wheezing breath, and gave alarm – insufficient stamina, fit for action for about two minutes, not armed, inferior position. The training took control, searched for the best solution – supply line 38 surveillance camera twenty meters ahead, the emergency transponder at his wrist, the injector with his bronchospasmolyticum. He didn't speed up, walked consistently on – strength is too valuable. The senses vibrated, fixed on the antagonists. He was within the camera's detection area, slowed, didn't turn...
Trembling fingers pressed the transponder's double contact. Deep inside the base at MedoStat 1 the medo comps activated the alarm, located the sender, and switched the next sensors to the monitors. The picture was transmitted to the medics' room, together with the coordinates...
"We'll have an easy job of it. Whatever you heard about this guy, he's already half dead... We're just finishing it." The characteristic humming of a vibration knife mixed into the voice. Target-2, armed.
His ears were fixated on the antagonists, placed them as targets on the raster map – still too far, wait.
"Quiet now. He's around the next corner." Target-1.
"Nonsense." Target-3.
"Read the scanner yourself, idiot." Target-1.
His right hand closed around the injector, slipped off the protective cap, adjusted it at acute attack – maximum dose. Wait.
"You–"
He spun around, slammed his fingers through eyes and eye sockets into the brain. Target-1 eliminated. He turned 30 degrees right, pulled target-1 along by the face to bind the vibro blade; reaching along the arm fixed by the caught knife, he pressed the injector against the lower throat. The breath leaked from the healthy respiratory ways, widened by the bronchospasmolyticum so that the bronchial flags could no longer close them. He tore his hand off target-1, slammed the long bones of his lower arm as a stab blow with his palm against target-2. Target-2 on the ground, out of action. Target-3 behind, left. He dodged forward, got his foot behind target-1 and turned the corpse during his rotation. His right hand grabbed the knife in the shredded back, deactivated it, got it to waist height while he completed his rotation, thrust... kidney cut, turned the blade in the wound, pulled it out. Target-3 eliminated.
He gave way, leaned his back against the wall within the camera's focus, put down the knife, clearly visible, and pushed it away with his foot. Wait...
The first thing Miyar saw when he arrived at the location of the emergency was a medic who was vomiting by a wall. Then he got an overview. His patient stood upright, breathed regularly, though rattling. That couldn't be said of the men on the ground in front of him.
The one at the front lay on his back. The pool beside and below him was likely three-quarters of his blood volume. The stab wound lay anatomically precisely in the left kidney. Miyar's eyes jumped to the blood-covered knife that lay about two meters away from his patient.
The second body, the one it seemed that the medic he'd first seen had wanted to turn, had a cut in his back. The scanner showed no life functions. A second medic turned the corpse with a jerk and pressed his hand to his mouth. Miyar turned pale. The man no longer had a face; grey pink brain matter leaked from the eye sockets. The physician stared at his patient, who still didn't stir at all. He does well not to move, considering the security personnel around.
The third victim had already been carried away. The man had gone for eight minutes without breathing. His chances of recovering with his brain intact were one in a billion.
Miyar had to force himself to go to his patient.
"Come with me. We have to take care of you."
"No..."
"SecStaff will find you at MedoStat, Gooseman."
"...won't... go... with...out... mem...ory... disk..." Shane pointed with a strongly trembling hand at the surveillance camera. "Need... wit...nes...ses... In...form... the... com...man...der..." His breathing rhythm grew rapidly worse.
"We have to treat you immediately, Gooseman. – Medic!"
No one dared to come closer. "...Disk... must...n't... be... un...guar...ded..." He bent over, coughed heavily and tasted blood. Damn hell!! Not now!!! "Walsh..." Green-black spots darkened his viewing field, squashed his lungs... The physician in front of him turned in slow motion, shouted something over his shoulder, pointed at the camera.
2092-12-14 Local Time 1213
BetaMountain – MedoStation
Day 166
"Let pass me! Right now!!" The telepath shouted, irritated at the guardian with the heavy LR in front of the door. "Do you get me–"
"It's impossible for me to let you in there, Miss." The space marine wasn't at all impressed by her scene. "Ord–"
"It's my order, Ranger Niko." Walsh came towards her from the physician's office. "I also placed the order to inform you about what had happened. And if you start to behave like a civilized person, maybe I can tell you the rest of it."
"Hrmpf. Commander?"
He passed the guard, opened the door, and granted her a short look inside. "He's stable, but he's going to be unconscious for quite a while. And while he is, we have time to find the answers I'm going to need." He let the door slide shut again. "Soldier. Your orders are unchanged."
"Yessir!"
Walsh made a sign at Niko to come with him and walked into Miyar's office. "Sit down. We've got quite a list of things to clear up." He himself took a seat behind Miyar's desk and thoughtfully studied the young woman in front of him. "First of all – Gooseman was attacked. That's proved without a doubt. Therefore the jurisdiction is clearly self-defense. But there's still the question of appropriate force. And there lies the problem." He switched on a monitor. "See for yourself." The surveillance disk played. A time index appeared at one corner of the picture. "This defense is inappropriately violent after the standards of jurisdiction. The investigating officers are also of the opinion that the dead men also committed the first attack on him and that he took bloody revenge for it when he got the chance. That's why Gooseman is being kept under guard. Formally, he's under arrest for the time being on charges of murder, and that will be the end of it if I can't present a very convincing explanation for the deaths to the BWL. You know him best, as I see it, and his physician shares this opinion. Can you explain it?"
"Yes, sir." She swallowed dryly and concentrated on the memories of contacts with Goose. "I've been through a lot of jobs with Gooseman, and he was never unnecessarily cruel." If those men did that to him he was still far too nice to them, but those maggots could never get access to Genomtoxin. That's impossible! Even BETA isn't that sloppy! "Tough, yes, but not cruel."
"That's not enough."
"Sir, how long after the fight did he collapse?"
"According to the time index, six minutes later. He'd have had enough time for considered actions."
"That's not correct." She reset the disk index to the moment when he dropped the knife and pushed it away; then she slowly played it forward. "His hands were trembling strongly already. And pay attention to his chest movements as he breathes. I've witnessed some of those attacks, sir. In this condition he's usually so fixated on the breathing process that he doesn't notice his surroundings any longer." She stopped the disk. "It's nearly suicide that he didn't do it here. There must have been something very important to make him stay responsive for so long."
"He insisted on the memory disk being taken under guard from the camera, until the last moment, as Dr. Miyar confirmed to me. The doctor could treat him only after Miyar agreed to fetch the disk and not to let it out of his sight. It was nearly too late." Walsh looked attentively at Niko. She lowered her eyes.
"Sir, at this moment he was..." She reset the index to the moment when Goose put down the knife and pointed at the displayed time, "barely capable of acting. He had to win within two minutes, once and for all. Or he'd have lost. You know yourself what that means."
Walsh nodded. "He's an ST. Losing isn't an option. I'm not sure if that's enough for the BWL."
She jumped up. "Then tell them: Any other man in this situation would be dead! Dead! Since when is survival punished?!"
"I'll try everything I can, Ranger." Walsh got also up and continued speaking as she stretched her hand for the door opener. "There's something else, Niko. He lives with you, doesn't he?"
She spun around. "Where did you get that idea?"
"We made a routine checkup of all the people at the scene of the crime after the attack on him. Nobody's been in Ranger Gooseman's quarters for at least fourteen days. And than there's that note on the door..."
She only noticed the commander's questioningly raised brows and blushed. "We–"
"Don't say anything." His quick hand movement clearly cut her off. "I don't have to consider anything I don't know about. And disciplinary action within the Series-5 team is the last thing I need at the moment."
"You mean you won't–"
"Don't get caught, Niko."
2092-12-15 Local Time 0211
BetaMountain – MedoStation
Day 167
"According to the indicators he's awake now, Commander."
"Gooseman. Do you hear me?" Walsh. A moment of silence followed... "Gooseman. Don't you dare keep me waiting any longer!"
The air was short. Every breath was a supreme effort. His worn-out muscles expanded the prison of his ribs only slowly.
"Gooseman!!"
"...Sir..."
"At last. You've gotten yourself into quite a bit of trouble, Gooseman."
"...good..."
"Don't talk such nonsense! The BWL inten–" Walsh cut himself off when he noticed the syllables hat were nearly drowned out by the wheezing breaths.
"...must... be... a...live... for... it..."
The commander had to suppress a smile of relief. "Damn, yes, you're alive. Your antagonists aren't and that's why the BWL is giving me hell." The ST's eyes fell shut. "Do you hear me?"
"...yes..."
"The BWL is considering charges against you for excessive force and murder."
"...was... at...tac...ked..."
"I know. But we've got three dead men."
"...no... sec...ond... at...tem...pt..."
"You know nonlethal strategies for self-defense, Gooseman."
"...need... too... stea...dy... mo...ve...ments..." A convulsive coughing shook the recumbent figure, made the pain indicator jump into the orange. The intermittent breathing became irregular.
Walsh straightened up, nodded. "That's enough. His statement agrees with our analysis." He turned for the door. "Guard! Let Ranger Niko pass before she starts firing at the door."
"Shane." She ignored the others, gripped the waxen hand on the quilt.
"Only a short visit, Miss," warned the physician. "Sleep is nearly his only ally now."
She had a short look at Miyar. A sidelong look rushed over the commander. "I know," she snapped, still concentrating on Goose. "Shane..." The palm below her fingers twitched briefly. A thought touched her.
...in my shirt's pocket... must hide...
She suggested her understanding, felt his relief through the quakes of coughing...
"He's fainted again, Commander." Miyar checked the displays and looked up. "Some seconds longer or a little bit more physical strain – and you'd have four dead men, Commander."
"I know that, Doctor. Was long enough in the field myself. But whether I can explain that to politicians?" Walsh shrugged his shoulders. "He likely won't be able to appear in front of them for the next several days."
"You're damn right," snapped Miyar. "Actually I shouldn't have let you wake him right now. The longer he's unconscious the more the worn-out breathing muscles regenerate."
"What do you mean?"
"Imagine a sore muscle of the worst kind – usually that immobilizes you for at least a week, right?" Walsh only nodded. "So – but the chest and side muscles that perform the breathing can't be rested even for a minute."
"Ranger?" A hand was laid on her shoulder – Walsh. The touch stopped her contact with the unconscious mind. "Are you all right?"
Niko got up, pulled her perceptions back into the outside world. "Yes, I am, sir." She looked over at Goose. "You feel so useless at times like this. I wish I could help him somehow." Walsh didn't answer. "Can I get his clothes? Maybe I can wash out the blood. Or does the forensic squad need them?"
"Take them."
Her senses were strained to the breaking point when she took up the clothing, totally soaked as it was with dried blood. Must be hard for her. Better she's got something to do. Even if it's only laundry... – Walsh. Ha! The laundry is the last thing I'm going to do now! " Please inform me if anything changes." She sniffed faintly.
"Of course." That was Miyar.
"Would you like an escort, Niko?"
"No, sir. I feel better being on my own." I don't need a baby-sitter right now... SIR! She let the door slide shut behind her.
2092-12-15 Local Time 0537
BetaMountain – Outer Way
Day 167
Niko looked around. It was quiet here at this time of day. Supply line 38 was rarely used and the nonspacefaring personnel mainly worked during the day, so it was too early for them. The place where the attack had occurred was no longer cordoned off. They had inserted a new memory disk into the camera – the light-green LED proved it – and, after all was documented, cleaned the place of all hints of what had happened. At least of all visible hints.
She took another look around – nobody was visible. Good. What she planned to do was difficult enough without disturbing presences. She closed her eyes, concentrated on the first image of the video Walsh had shown her yesterday, and touched her badge...
...the emanations of the last 19 hours rushed past her in reverse order. There it is. She faded out pain and death, the known structures of Goose's presence, wandered back into the time just before the attack. Now... she forced herself to leave the level of normal senses in the past, felt for the mental images of the attackers and searched the psionic layer every living creature left behind...
...shivering from exhaustion, she let the psionic field collapse and returned into normality. Her badge vibrated. She had almost used up the charge. But she'd gotten what she had come here for. With a furious glow in her eyes she sent the rest of the energy as a flash through the camera's memory disk. I'm sorry – but this affair isn't suitable for the security staff. With steps that started out unsteady, she was on her way.
2092-12-15 Local Time 0618
BetaMountain – MPQ 251
Day 167
The three-dimensional, multicolored representation rotated slowly on the monitor. Doc, with his hair tousled from his pillow and wearing his dressing gown, looked drowsily from his terminal up to her. "There it is. BetaMountain from the inside. Just like you wanted." After a long yawn: "What are you looking for exactly, then?"
"Connections and access tunnels to the ventilation system. Can you highlight them?"
"Sure." A mass of pale, green-blue lines glowed more strongly.
"I need only those that are connected to Goose's quarters."
"Okay. That means – restrict to accesses through the ventilation system to MPQ 217."
"Can you enlarge, add the names, and make a hardcopy of it for me?"
He gave a loud, theatrical groan. "Anything else? It isn't even half past six."
"Please, Doc. It's important." She smiled sweetly at him. "I'll make coffee for you."
"Oh, in that case..." The printer in the terminal rattled on and spat out a transparency. "There you have it."
"Thanks!" She nearly tore the transparency out of his hand and almost flew out the door.
"Hey! What about my coffee!!?"
2092-12-15 Local Time 1032
BetaMountain – Maintenance Shaft 623-V
Day 167
She was lucky that QBall hadn't been in his laboratory the first two times. Otherwise he would at least have started asking questions when she did the third recharge. Only one access left. The charge will just have to be enough. In the shine of her flashlight, Niko looked again at the map that Doc had printed for her. The next one...
"Ouch! Damn." She slid some meters down an uneven slope and landed, not softly, on her backside. Obviously some natural cracks within the rock had been used when the ventilation system was built. There was no other explanation for the unpredictable flow of the tubes – unless the work crew had been 99 percent composed of sloshed plagos. There it is ahead. Grille 623-V-998456.
She activated her implant, concentrated on the psionic imprints in the cover material of the tunnel, and searched for the saved psionic layers. Nothing. Then I was right: none of the attackers from yesterday was involved in the gas attack. Looks like we'll have to dig out the maggot who did this to Shane. Those idiots at SecStaff can't even find the culprit who locks himself in the safe during his robbery and wears a sign around his neck that reads 'Hi, I did it!'.
2092-12-15 Local Time 1058
BetaMountain – GRS5 Office
Day 167
"You're more than two hours la–" Fox broke off ad stared, flabbergasted, at Niko when she entered the room. "For heaven's sake, what have you done?" She was covered all over with dust, partly smeared with grey oil, and her hair was a single nest of spiderwebs, dust flakes, and something that looked like graphite powder.
Niko looked down at her clothes. "I was checking up on something."
"Where? In the waste deposit?"
"Not quite. In the ventilation system. Zachary..." She looked very earnestly at the older officer. "You know that they want to charge Goose with murder, don't you?"
"Yes. Total nonsense."
She nodded only. "Walsh wanted my analysis of his behavior. During the conversation, he said something that got me thinking." She exhaled deeply. "SecStaff has closed the investigation of the gas attack. They're of the opinion that it was done by the three rats Goose defeated."
"On what did they base their decision?"
"On the memory disk, just at the beginning, there's a half-sentence from one of the attackers: '...just finishing it!' SecStaff must take that for the whole gas affair."
"And you don't believe it?"
"Believe? – I know it." She looked with burning eyes at him. "None of the thugs was ever at any of the accesses to the ventilation of Goose's quarters."
"We'll tell SecStaff about it."
She snorted disdainfully through her nose. "Wonderful! Do you remember what they said the last time?"
Zach groaned. "'This psionic mumbo-jumbo has no conclusiveness.' Hell!"
"You express yourself very nicely, Zach. But whoever it was, Goose isn't safe from him at all. And we still have no hint who our enemy is." At least none we can confess, especially not with this enemy... She shivered involuntarily. "But he's going to try again. And then he won't send the second raters."
"Who – except Doc and me and my family – knows that he lives with you?"
"Walsh." Zach produced a short hiss through his teeth. "But he says he doesn't want to know about it. Nobody else."
Zach smiled dryly. "Seems the commander has gotten very used to not seeing special things where Goose is concerned. I think we can delete him as a possible threat. Then Shane should be safe in your apartment, and we watch over him when he's elsewhere. When does he come back?"
She lowered her head, pressed her hands together as she remembered the physician's remarks. "He has to start almost all over again, Zach. – Dr. Miyar guessed at least four months, more likely five, even if he considers Goose's arrogance." She took a seat in one of the armchairs, smeared dark grey patches on the cover. "I'm afraid for him, Zach. He's so weak, has no reserves like before..."
He couldn't answer that, just put his hand consolingly on her shoulder. "Go home, Niko, and change clothes, before we have to redecorate the whole room. I'll do the cadet training for you."
"Thanks." She got up and left a dark grey impression of her silhouette on the armchair cover. "I'll come for the second round."
"Okay. And Niko – remember, they said the will to live is the most important thing in this fight. And he has it."