He Without Sin (19 page)

I shake my head, still looking at the colors. The way the points of color change, it looks like the sphere is moving, pulsing, but it’s not. If you hold it without looking, it feels like ordinary metal or maybe glass. Funny, it seems to get cooler the longer I hold it.

“Water. Plain old water. This unit over here can take the extracted raw materials and build one of these in about two of these years here, with my help, spare time only. It’s as close to a perfect sphere as can be made. Gravity distorts it a little. Tidal effect…”

“But…”

“Don’t ask.” Mark takes the sphere back. “You never saw it.”

“Is this the government job you mentioned?”

“This? No way. It’s my baby only. Wanted to see if I could do it.”

I make a show of taking another sip of Mark’s liquid ‘gold’ while I digest what he’s just shown me. I hope that Mark will open up some more and ask, “Speaking of making stuff out of thin air, can you make it spit out more components for one A/V cam and transceiver? The mount is ok.”

“No can do, old chum. Can’t do anything unofficial, supposedly.” And at this Mark laughs heartily in his special way that ends in what sounds like hiccups. “Put in a request. I’ll get to it when it makes its way to the top of the pile. Which ain’t gonna be soon.” More hiccups.

“Forget it. I think there’s some around I can cannibalize. You are swamped.” Another sip for me.

Mark’s demeanor returns to a more serious level. “Look, I’ve got all systems running basically around the clock now, and it going to be like that for a long time. If you really need…”

“No, forget it. I can make do. If it doesn’t work out I’ll put in a request. What else are you working on? Officially, I mean…”

“Ah, knocking out the list for the Hobbe, slowly but surely. Then there’s some special extraction that’s eating up time, machine time and my time, that’s all. It’s not a lot of work really, but it takes some set up time and some hands-on.”

“Is that for…?”

“Who else?”

“You mean in addition to the…?” I ask, nodding towards his pocket.

“No. This is done,” patting his pocket. “Just a challenge I set for myself. The other things… Well, I don’t want to get into it. In fact, I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Ok, all right, if you say so. But, answer me this: organic or inorganic?” I presume Brachus may have a favorite beverage as well.

“Too many questions. Can’t talk about it. Maybe some other time,” says Mark. He finishes his drink. “Inorganic,” I hear as he turns away.

As Mark said, Brachus is running the show now and
David seems fine with the situation. He concern is
‘his’ line and how it’s doing. He receives samples
and reports from the field, but no more
‘modifications’, genetically speaking, are being
performed.

Sad to report but Alpha and Beta have passed. They both had a long life span, about ten times the
norm for the natives. I am surprised they made it
that long what with all the dangers and lack of
medical care. Bee went first; and Dylan kept in
touch with Al right up to the end. He saw that Al
had become a respected leader and that his children and his children’s children were many. He
told us that Al had a nickname for Bee. He
translated it as “Mother of Nations.”

A chosen few of Al’s descendants are being given
telomere treatments. This way, in David’s view, the
best of the best are given ample opportunity to
procreate and expand the line; he’s said this
before. The treatment work is being done at bio
camp central by Aileen and Tracy, trained by
Vanessa.

There have been reports of aggressive and brutal
behavior amongst the natives, but the accepted
conclusion is that this is a natural phenomenon and
has nothing to do with us. Struggle for survival and
so forth. We do know that in any environment with
limited resources, conflicts will and must occur in
and between species and subgroups competing for
those resources to procreate. Any species, including
humans. This is a given. But to what extent we are
affecting the level of violence I, for one, am not
sure.

There is influence, obviously. In a way, that’s the
entire reason we are here. What I mean is: I
wonder how we are affecting the native
populations on an intellectual level? Clearly some
have seen our comings and goings as we search
out and retrieve resources; some have even had
direct contact—think of Dylan out in the field, or
those select individuals undergoing the life
extension treatments. What the natives are able to make out of all this is another thing. Dylan assures
me there will be a lasting impact in their history,
their legends, their lore. He’s in touch with the
descendants of A & B, and other populations as
well, and tells me that they have long been passing
oral traditions from generation to generation; we
are part of that tradition. Likewise, written records
are also now being kept in at least one case, which
are carefully preserved by copying from one
generation to the next.

Interestingly, A & B’s descendants have developed
a subgroup who concern themselves almost
exclusively with matters dealing with their limited
understanding of us. They preserve and perpetuate
the lore, both written and oral. This is to be, I think,
expected, as follows: If some see one or two of
their own who are treated differently, by
communicating or otherwise interacting with
mysterious and powerful outsiders (that is, us),
those one or two will be seen in a special light by
the remainder. Rumors will spread; conclusions will
be drawn, right or wrong. And if the chosen seem
to live a long time, and be on good terms with us,
then those chosen ones will be assumed to be very
special indeed, inspiring awe and respect, if not
reverence. I am struggling with whether this is, in
the long run, good, bad, or neither.

I do believe the Weasel is doing a little prospecting
for himself on the Academy’s dime. It fits right in
with his MO—looking out for number one. The
clues are several. He is having Carol search for some specific, and I would assume rare, materials
in crustal outcroppings, thus inorganic; he is having
Mark do some special extracting as a ‘government’ job. But what exactly? It can’t be too bulky or
heavy either. That would get noticed during launch
prep. So very small or light, or both, and valuable—
that narrows it down. I think Mark wants to talk
about it. We’ll see.

This business about eating meat from native
animals has me both interested and repulsed. Aside
from the danger of consuming potentially harmful
or deadly chemicals and organisms, the actual
consumption of meat is not a problem. It is very
unusual nowadays but certainly was the norm and
is the norm for developing populations. Check your
teeth, the imprint of evolution cannot be denied. Not to mention the fact that the gastrointestinal
machinery of the body is perfectly capable of
dealing with and digesting this source of energy
and nutrients. But, we have moved on from that
stage to something better, have we not? Now,
some of the fruits and vegetables have been
thoroughly tested and have a big green light from
Doc. But not so with meat, any meat, as far as I
know. I need to corner him next time I go in and
see what he says about it.

Defector

I am sort of kidding when I ask about access, trying to make the dreaded ‘small talk.’ She makes me nervous.

Tracy answers, “Oh sure, I’ve got ‘em. No problem. What’ll you give me for them?” she asks as she looks me over with a suggestive expression. “I mean, this has to be a two-way street, so…”

Now I’m really uncomfortable. My mind races to find a suitable answer and judging from her reaction I guess my face betrays me.

“Relax dude, just kidding. Ha ha, that look’s almost as good as the one in the picture Les snapped of you on the cam a while back.” She returns to my question saying, “Sure, I’ll send them right along. Two things though: you don’t know where you got them and, don’t be too surprised at what you find.” She winks, puts a piece of something in her mouth and walks away chewing toward Dylan and Craig.

She’s a good looking young woman with her brown hair always pulled back in a ponytail. She makes me uncomfortable for a couple reasons. First and foremost, she has been too buddy-buddy with Brachus for me to trust her. After all, she’s the human firewall he set up to insulate himself. Second, she’s got a mischievous look about her, in a racy way, which makes me wonder what she’s thinking. And I get the impression she enjoys saying things that can be taken two ways. Not flirty like Vanessa, but downright suggestive. Not my style.

And she offered to give the passwords right away. I am too stunned to think properly at first. I guess the first step is to see if I actually get the access information like she promised. Then, see if it works. I gather my bits and bobs for the return trip from bio camp back to base. Dylan and Craig walk in my direction, talking. I’m sorry but Craig just looks way too young to be part of the team. I do know his background and qualifications, on paper, but he’s that type of man who looks like a kid, and probably always will. I think he cultivates that look by letting his mop top grow long, among other quirks.

“Heading back I see. Got everything you need?” asks Dylan. I nod. “Porter is ready to go. He’ll take you. Thanks for the help today.”

“No problem,” I reply. “Anytime you need help, or anything really, let me know. Hey, one quick thing. What is she chewing over there?”

“Oh, Trace?” He looks over at Tracy, smiles, turns back to me and says, “That, Jason, is dried meat.” Dylan pauses to examine my reaction I guess. “You should try it. It won’t hurt you. And it’s delicious.”

I shake my head, decline to comment and take my leave from bio camp.

______

“Not you too?” I say to Porter as we head back to base.

“What?” he says, turning away from the controls to look at me.

“Your little snack there. It’s odiferous.”

“Odiferous? Seriously? Odiferous? Here, have one.” And he tosses me a little irregular shred of something of a dark brownish red color. It is greasy,
is
odiferous, and I decline to put it in my mouth; I don’t even like handling it.

“You really should get that stuff checked out by Doc before chewing. Or eating. Are you swallowing it? Good grief man, I’m not kidding.” I shake my head and wonder what is wrong with these people? I change the subject to one of more interest. “Say, what’s up with Tracy?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, you know what I mean. I don’t think she’s spoken two words to me the whole time and now she’s totally nice and friendly? That’s what I mean.”

“Haw! So you’ve noticed.” He says, looking at me to see, I suspect, if he should say more. “You might say they’ve had a little falling out.” He turns back to face the controls. “Or a big falling out.”

“‘They’ being Tracy and…”

“That’s right, Tracy and…” he looks at me again and we both know. “You might say she told him off and then told him where to
get
off.”

“But, why? What happened?”

“Rumors my friend, rumors. You know you really should try some.” He nods toward the dried meat I am holding while he adjusts his glasses with one hand.

“We’ll see what Doc says and then, maybe.” When we exit the runabout at base camp, I toss the greasy tidbit aside when Porter’s not looking. “Where are you off to next? Some secret mission for Brachus?”

“Of course. Top secret. Actually, I’m heading to a super spot—76 East and 14 South—just fantastic. My favorite. Hopefully I can stay a while.”

“Loading up ore or…?”

“No, not there, nothing like that there. I won a bet with Wes and he says I can have some time off. Besides, he needs the runabout for a bit. I’m taking it out there to him and, like I say, I hope he keeps it a while. Wouldn’t mind being stranded for a few days.”

“Is it near those bluffs? They are awesome.”

Porter responds only with a quizzical e to get back to them sometime. Never got my fill.”

“What? Bluffs? No bluffs. Hey, gotta run. Wish me luck!” Porter runs off leaving me alone for a moment in the landing area.

This is a stark and sterile area. The rugged surrounds are quite striking with the sun at this low angle. Bright reds and golds in direct light with sharply contrasting dark browns and blacks in shadow. All against thMaybe it’s my imagination but I think I
can
see them moving if I concentrate.

______

The alert from my genie wakes me suddenly. What day is it anyway? It’s early, but plenty light out; the day is well underway. I’m still groggy, but take a quick look around the base camp. Porter is back. He only got a day or two at his special location apparently. But now I see he’s running out again in a big hurry straight to the transport unit. Something is up.

I check my incoming comms and am surprised that there is, in fact, a message from Tracy. It says ‘Something just for you. Let me know if there is anything else I can do ;) Codes attached.’ I’d better save this for in my quarters when I have access to a decent screen and console.