Extermination, page 5
Seriously, people in this place wasted precious time and resources on nonsense like this?
It was all so ridiculous that Fred almost threw the lot into the recycling chute. A few factors stopped him. First, he was an engineer, not a scientist, by training, and had only risen in the ranks of the Auxiliary Division through chance. Scientists’ minds operated in ways that his did not, even if he worked a lot with scientists in lab design.
Second, if this experiment was going to cause any kind of problem, or if there would be any kind of inquiry about this, he would need to present evidence. He would do best not to tamper with it, or even to open it, because all opens of the files would be logged, and they would now know that he had seen them.
He made sure that Tara and Ashley had indeed discarded and incinerated all the material from the experiment lab—which they had—and then went to his room to have some quiet time before dinner.
A message had arrived from Sophie with pictures of Leila going to school.
His heart ached.
Truth be told, he was sick of this migratory life, of the assumption that if you were in the military, you should always put duty before family. Yes, he understood it, and he even subscribed to the ethics, but there should be times when being in the military was just a job, and other times, when there was a clear threat, that all resources were called for.
The level of constant alert was wearying, especially when it was unclear why it was necessary. He was afraid that when there really was an emergency, all the depth of response capacity would be exhausted.
Anyway, alert level three—the current level of operation—required that all personnel wore dress uniform for officer dinners.
He and Mariani were the only officers on the station. Mariani had brought a few junior personnel, but Fred had just slotted into the position formerly occupied by Ken Ward. Resources were scarce on Opis Station. While the station’s full capacity was five hundred, it only ran with a third of the full occupation, and the recycling processes were much scaled down. Bringing in too many new people would require preparation.
So they faced each other in the room behind the command centre they had designated the Officers’ Mess, for a crew numbering two officers.
They were both in regulation dress uniform, which was ridiculous when you really thought about it, but once you started thinking about how much procedure was ridiculous, that was the end of your sanity.
Was he becoming jaded? Possibly. Considering that the station’s occupation level was so low, the meals were quite decent. The vegetables were fresh, the protein cubes were of a pleasant consistency and the cook even used herbs.
“Not much point spoiling people’s moods with bad food,” the young man said when Fred commented on it. “There’s much to spoil our mood already. No need to add to it.”
Fred made a mental note to commend this young man for a more lofty service, if he was amenable to signing up for the Force.
“They’re just trying to curry our favour,” Mariani said when the young man had left. “They know we’re going to reorganise the station, possibly decommission it, and want to leave a good impression. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I wonder what they’re eating themselves and what they’re saying behind our backs in the common rooms.”
“Have you encountered much resistance?” Fred asked.
“Not direct resistance, but a lot of questions, and many I can’t answer. I’ve asked Patel to give us some details about what they want with the station and where they envisage the staff to go.”
“Good luck with getting an answer.”
Patel kept things close to her chest.
“By the way, have you heard the staff talk about a plan to grow plants on the outside of the station to save space?”
“To—what?” Mariani’s eyes widened. Yeah, he couldn’t believe it either.
“I’m sorry, I know it sounds ridiculous, but the manager of research, Ken Ward, apparently had some sort of scheme to make it work.”
“I only heard that they were testing exposure of crops to the vacuum because of recurring pest and disease problems.”
That made a lot more sense, and in fact, Tara had mentioned that as one of the motivations. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to check where those problems were coming from?”
“You would think so, but a smart button decided that you could kill pest organisms by exposing them to a vacuum so they didn’t have to use dangerous and expensive chemicals.”
“I guess the operative word is expensive? Space is out there, it’s free, let’s make it do the work for you, never mind the radiation.”
“Pretty much, and it would have been nice if the tactic worked, but from what I’ve heard, the problems with crop infections only grew worse, because all the crops went through the same vacuum chamber, and passed infections onto each other. The station manager told me she had a strong disagreement with Ken Ward about the program, because she refused to allocate any further energy resources to it. Ward replied that they would all die from hunger because the station refused to sanitise the living areas where infections kept growing. I heard from several people that it was a pretty spectacular bust-up. After it, he went back to his quarters and died of a heart attack that evening. The poor woman was pretty upset. She said she didn’t mean to stress him out that much and never even got to apologise for the argument.”
“Did she suggest that she needed to apologise? I mean—not about him dying, but that she found out that she was wrong about the trials being the source of continued contamination?”
“Well, she would have to have been wrong, right? Nothing can live in space, so the contamination had to come from within the station.”
That was right—or was it?
Chapter Nine
WHEN JONATHAN AND GABY arrived at the other side of the station, a lot of people were already talking and mingling in the foyer.
The organisers had brought pots with small trees and palms into the foyer. Collections of tables stood throughout the hall, filled with trays of food.
Everybody looked so splendid. For once, it was decreed that the military people not wear uniforms, and the amount of colour in the room was astonishing. Here was another wave of fashion that had gone by Jonathan while he was working. Apparently colour for men was in. He felt decidedly frumpy in his dark blue suit. It was probably a couple of years too old as well.
He accepted a drink from the waiter to quell his nerves and unease. These types of events were not his thing.
“Hey, Gaby!”
Damn. Rick.
In civilian clothes, he looked even more athletic and strong. He looked like he could easily lift Gaby in the air, turn a pirouette with her and sweep her off her feet. They even looked made for each other. Both had dark hair, both were athletic.
Gaby greeted him, and while they talked, Jonathan looked at his pathetic reflection in the window.
Beyond the transparent shell of the Dome, the other half of the dumbbell-shaped station moved in and out of the sunlight and in and out and in and out. It was quite hypnotising.
Gaby was still talking to Rick, when he said, “They’ve got music over there, do you want to dance?”
“Sure,” Gaby said.
And she took off with Rick across the big space of the foyer.
Jonathan turned around and looked over the proceedings. His glass was empty. He took a glass of something honey-coloured off a tray offered by a waiter and downed it in a few gulps. It was sweet and strong.
Several people were still talking in groups, and he wandered around until he found Ben and the others from the Orbital Launch Station. All he could think about was how Rick had called the people who still worked there losers, and the anger inside him grew.
He talked about work. Although he wasn’t sure what he was going to do at Ceres. His supervisor had told him that there might be someone coming to the conference to talk to him and Gaby directly there and brief them on the situation and work they were meant to be doing.
It was very strange, how everything in this area seemed to be subject to a lot of secrecy.
Nobody really knew what Lemura had been doing in this area. They had been a company contracted by the Force to do work for them.
Most of the projects seem to have been related to mining, so why they didn’t get closer to the asteroid field was a mystery.
It was not his area of expertise, however, and he wondered how much he would hear from the other conference delegates in the next couple of days. A lot of interesting talks were still scheduled, even if most of the delegates appeared to have been coming from elsewhere.
Jonathan had lost sight of Gaby. Ben was talking about the changes on the Orbital Launch Station and Jonathan no longer knew any of the people he mentioned.
To be honest, Jonathan was bored.
He hated parties and hated dressing up. He was wondering whether he should ask the conference organisers about Mark Stevens or Fred Wilkins.
He could not see the man anywhere in the audience.
The organisation of the conference was in the hands of a small commercial company whose business was to organise communication opportunities between scientists from all different walks of life.
Jonathan had been to a couple of their events, and they were usually well organised, and the best part about it was that civilians and military personnel were encouraged to attend. In general, the conferences were run without political agenda and were open to communication between all people working in certain areas.
The main organiser for this conference was a woman called Gina Parley. Jonathan knew her, at least by name, because she had published a number of research papers, and was known as a competent scientist.
She was not presenting at this conference, being the main organiser.
Jonathan found her seated at one of the tables with a couple of people from Mars. She was an elegant woman, with curly grey hair and big, deep-set eyes.
At first he introduced himself and they spoke a bit about research that was being done at Ceres, where Jonathan was headed next.
Then he asked her about her research and how it was going.
They were all lovely interesting pleasantries, before Jonathan got to the main point of talking to her.
“I have to admit to being curious about one of the conference’s attendees. A man came to speak to me on my first night here. He said he wanted to talk to me in person, and then we were interrupted and I suggested we meet later. He said that we’d be here for the next couple of days, anyway, and we would use another occasion to get together. The problem is, I haven’t seen him since, and he never collected his name badge this morning.”
She raised her eyebrows at him. “Did someone not collect their name badge? I’m sorry, but this kind of detail is covered by administration. You will have to ask them.”
“I already did. They said that he was supposed to be there. I went to his room and there was definitely luggage in the room. Yet I haven’t seen him since.”
“That’s strange. Do you know if he’s presenting anything at the conference?”
“He’s not on the program, but in his room we found some notes for a talk he was clearly prepared to give.”
“What is his name?”
“Mark Stevens.”
The moment he mentioned the name, her eyes lit up briefly. She knew what he was talking about.
“I’m sorry, but it seems that one of the attendees has taken ill. We are currently arranging transport off the station.”
“My colleague Gaby is a doctor. Maybe she can help?”
She gave him a hard and serious look. “Bartell, I know that you have a bit of a rebellious streak. But I’ve been advised that the military considers this topic out of bounds.”
“But he told me he wanted to give a presentation on the demise of Opis Station. Don’t you think we should all know what happened there? If he thought it was so important to come to me and beg for my ear, aren’t you concerned about the fact that he appears to have gone missing?”
“Not missing, Mr Bartell. I have been advised that he has been taken off the station, and that he will not be giving his talk. I have also been advised that the matter is confidential, and that I can’t comment any more on what I do not know. They didn’t tell me why he wasn’t allowed to give his talk. I do know that they have humanity’s best interests at heart, and that anything they do is in the spirit of human safety. I don’t know any more and it’s not that I like this kind of interference in what should be a free exchange of information. But you probably know better than I that there is no arguing with the Force. Once they have made a decision, that’s it.”
“I’m just concerned about the man’s health. He seemed quite upset and frightened when he spoke to me.”
“I’m sorry. I really don’t know more about it. You could ask the administration desk for information about his contact details.”
“Thank you. I’ll do that.”
He wondered what pressure Colonel Patel had been giving her. She was a civilian. To have military officers bashing down the door would be quite intimidating.
The conversation was over, and Jonathan was done with this party. He was hot in this suit, and he wanted to go back to his room. He didn’t like parties, and wanted to watch that presentation that Mark Stevens or Fred Wilkins had planned to give, without the approval of the military.
He looked around for Gaby, but when he saw her, she was still in the company of Rick. While he had been worried about a missing scientist, she was out dancing. They were talking and laughing as if they were the best of friends.
His cheeks grew hot.
A little voice inside him said that she was allowed to enjoy herself, but on the other hand he was too annoyed to be reasonable.
He went up to her.
She turned to him, smiling. “Oh, there you are. I’m having more fun than I’ve had in years. Come on, join in the dancing.”
Jonathan met Rick’s eyes. He bet he was having fun, with his hands on Gaby. And he knew those were stupid thoughts, but he couldn’t help having them. The alcohol was muddling his thoughts.
“I’m tired. I want to go to sleep.”
He had been going to say something about the missing scientist, but this was not the time.
“Oh, that’s such a pity. Well then, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Have fun.”
And he turned around and walked through the crowd.
But he hadn’t gone very far, when someone tapped on his shoulder.
He turned around.
It was Gaby. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I’m tired, okay?”
“You’ve been behaving like a sulking teenager all day today.”
“No I haven’t.”
Too late, he realised that his voice was quite loud, possibly also as a result of the brainfog from the alcohol. Some of the people around them turned to watch. Raised voices at a scientific conference was a most unusual occurrence.
“You’re making a spectacle of yourself.” Gaby grabbed him by the arm and pulled them in the direction of the lift foyer. There was no one in that area. She faced him in front of the lift doors.
“What have you been drinking?”
“Nothing that you haven’t.”
“You’re acting like a toddler. Is it because I was dancing with an old friend?”
“You can dance with whomever you please. I don’t own you.”
“But that’s just it, isn’t it? I gave you the chance to ask me out, and all you do is just stand there and stare at me. I’ve worked with you for more than a year now, and that’s all you’ve done. You act like we’re a thing, but then when something happens, or there is a chance to get closer together, you just do nothing, as if you don’t care.”
“I do care. You don’t even know how much.”
And then, because his eyes pricked, because he was bad at talking about personal things and there was no way he would let her see him getting emotional, in case he had to admit that he was jealous of Rick, he turned away to the lift.
“I’m going to bed,” he said into the metal lift door.
“Suit yourself. I’m not here to mope.”
The lift door opened, and Jonathan went in, all by himself. While the lift took him through the weightless bar that connected the two parts of the station, he watched himself in the metallic wall of the lift, a tiny scrawny, puny, unfit shrimp, who had none of the dazzle and bravado that Rick had. None of the strong face and charismatic eyes.
He didn’t deserve anyone.
Least of all Gaby.
Chapter Ten
TARA DID NOT WANT to destroy all of Ken’s work. He had worked so hard for his plans, and hoped so much that he would have a big breakthrough. How happy would people be when they could grow plants on the outside of spaceships, saving themselves the trouble of having to control pests and diseases which always plagued crops inside a closed environment?
It was such an innovative idea.
Ken wanted to help people. Tara wanted to help people, but it was as if other people and fate conspired against her.
She was trained properly as a lab technician, and knew and recognised the risk. Contamination was real and dangerous. They didn’t know what they were dealing with or where it came from. Contamination was the scourge of this station and no matter how well they cleaned everything, it just kept coming back.
There was nothing to do but to destroy the experiment.
So the next morning, she came in early, went into the lab, and started putting the mushrooms in the incinerator. By now, most of them had collapsed into a heap of mush, many of them blackened and slimy.
When Tara pulled the trays out of the shelving unit, however, the trays that held the growing medium were spun together with slimy threads. It was hard to pull the trays out, because the threads went up into the light fittings that hung over each tray. And while the mushrooms were clearly dead, little blue specks of light glowed inside the gelatinous substance of the threads.
