Manta's Gift (45 page)

"Don't flatter yourself, Colonel," Liadof said. "My priorities are the same as those of Project Changeling: to locate and obtain the Qanskan stardrive. Everything else is a distant second place. Including you."

"And no one wants your destruction anyway," Hesse added earnestly. "All we want is your cooperation."

"I thought all you wanted was my silence." Faraday cocked an eyebrow as another thought suddenly occurred to him. "Unless, of course, Nemesis Six really
is
on its way here."

"Very good, Colonel," Liadof said approvingly. "Yes, General Achmadi will be here sometime next week, and at that point I'll need your authorization to take possession of his nuclear weapons."

Faraday felt his throat tighten. "I thought you said you weren't going to attack the Qanska."

"I'm not," she said. "We're going to explode them one at a time in isolated areas in the northern and southern Jovian polar regions, where no Qanska live. By analyzing the sonic shock waves and their echoes, we're hoping we can get a clue as to the stardrive's location."

Faraday nodded. So that was the plan. A pure, reasonable scientific experiment, with nothing that could be used politically against her. Especially given that the Five Hundred had undoubtedly already approved it.

All of which Hesse would have known from the beginning.

"So that's it," he said quietly. "I haven't got any allies, I haven't got any illegal or unethical deeds I can hang you with, and by the time you've finished plastering this document all over the newsnets I won't even have a reputation."

He looked back at Hesse. "What was that you said? That you did it for me?"

"Don't be so hard on the boy," Liadof chided before Hesse could answer. "I already told you that you had to be neutralized, one way or another."

"And the more humiliating the method, the better?"

Liadof shook her head. "You're still missing the point. In a perfect world, that CFL document will never see the light of day. All it is is insurance against you trying to fight me."

"Ah," Faraday said bitterly. "Of course. Extortion with the Qanska; blackmail with me. At least your methods are consistent."

"Would you rather I have simply destroyed you outright?" Liadof demanded. "That
was
my other option, you know. To bring you up on charges over what you and your teammates did to the Omega Probe and have you fired."

"You'd have lost," Faraday said stiffly.

Liadof snorted. "Hardly," she said. "Not with my faction orchestrating the whole affair. They would have been our questions, our judges, and our results."

"What about public opinion?" Faraday asked. "Or were you going to orchestrate that, too?"

"Of course," Liadof said with a casual wave of her hand. "You're a popular enough figure, but let's face it: Interest in Changeling has faded too far for anyone to work up much emotion over you."

She considered. "And of course, all the publicity around the trial would have been under our control, too. No, Colonel. For all practical purposes, you'd have been dead. And McCollum, Milligan, and Sprenkle would have gone down along with you. Is that really how you would have wanted it?"

Faraday didn't answer. "You don't have to answer," Liadof said. "Now, instead, once Changeling has served its purpose you'll be free to retire, collect your pension, and live out your life as the quiet old hero. And your Alpha Shift teammates will still have their careers."

"I see," Faraday murmured, looking at Hesse again. "I appreciate your efforts to protect me, Mr. Hesse. I'm just sorry that in these past few years together you never learned that there are things I consider more valuable than my reputation."

"If you'd prefer to go down fighting, we can still do that," Liadof offered, some annoyance starting to filter through the civilized veneer of her voice. "I can arrange for you to crash in political flames if that would salve your conscience or your pride."

She gestured at the control board. "But right now, we have business to attend to. Mr. Raimey is waiting."

She keyed the switch beside her, and behind them the door slid open. "And unless I'm mistaken, so are the rest of your people. Everyone; come in."

They filed in, Beach leading the way, with McCollum, Sprenkle, and Milligan behind him. The latter three seemed rather dazed, with Milligan still blinking sleep from his eyes. "What's going on, Colonel?" McCollum asked cautiously.

"We're back in business," Faraday told her. "Manta's contacted us and wants to talk. Everyone get to your stations; procedure is by the book."

Sprenkle and Milligan exchanged uncertain glances, but no one spoke as they fanned out to their sections of the board. Stepping up behind Beach, Faraday wondered briefly just how much of the situation he'd been able to explain to the others before Liadof had called them all in.

And wondered how much of it they'd believed.

"All right, Mr. Beach," he said when everyone was settled. "Let's see what Manta has to say."

"Yes, sir." Beach touched a series of switches and gestured toward the mike protruding from his station. "You're on, Colonel."

"Good morning, Manta," Faraday called. "This is Colonel Faraday. Welcome back."

There was a brief pause, and then the room again began to rumble to the sound of Qanskan tonals. "Thank you, Colonel, the computer translated. "I wasn't aware you'd missed me."

"Some of us have," Faraday assured him, keeping half an ear on the tonals to make sure the computer was doing an accurate translation. "I'm afraid I can't say that about everyone, unfortunately. There have been some personnel changes at the top of the project. I presume you understand."

There was a pause, and in the silence he heard Liadof mutter something under her breath. The tonals began rumbling—"I wondered about that," the translation came. "It didn't seem like something you would do."

"Definitely not," Faraday said. "And on behalf of the Five Hundred and all of humanity, I apologize. It will never happen again."

"Easy, Colonel," Liadof warned quietly. "You don't speak for the Five Hundred."

"Manta?" Faraday called. "Did you hear me?"

"I heard you," Manta said. "And I'll hold you to that. I'm here to offer you a trade."

"I'm listening," Faraday said, feeling his heartbeat pick up its pace. "I understand you're willing to give us the secret of the Qanskan stardrive?"

"I am," Manta said. "In exchange for help with a problem the Qanska are having. Is McCollum available?"

"She's right here," Faraday confirmed. "Does the problem concern Qanskan physiology?"

"Partially," Manta said. "Or at least, that's the part of the puzzle I'm still not sure of."

"Well, let's hear it," Faraday said. "We'll do whatever we can to help."

"Just a moment," Liadof said, stepping up beside him. "We are of course willing to help, Mr. Raimey. But first we'd like to hear about the stardrive."

"Not yet," Manta said. "We'll deal with this problem first."

"No," Liadof said flatly. "You aren't in a position to bargain, Mr. Raimey."

"On the contrary," Manta said. "I think I'm in an excellent position to bargain. Colonel Faraday, who is this person?"

"Her name is Katrina Liadof," Faraday said. "She's a member of the Five Hundred."

"I see," Manta said; and though the computer translation didn't show it, Faraday could hear a definite hardening of Manta's attitude in the tonals. "Is she the one responsible for attacking my people?"

"Your
people?" Liadof asked pointedly.
"We
are your people, Mr. Raimey."

"Not anymore," Manta said. "Colonel Faraday, I will not speak in this person's presence. Please ask her to leave."

Faraday turned to Liadof. "Don't even
think
it," she warned, her eyes flashing at him. "I'm not going anywhere."

Faraday touched Beach's shoulder. "Mike off," he murmured.

"Mike off," Beach confirmed.

"I'm not leaving," Liadof repeated.

"Then you sacrifice the stardrive," Faraday said bluntly. "What was that you said earlier?—Everything else is a distant second place? Or didn't that list include
your
pride?"

"He's bluffing," Liadof insisted. "You heard him. They have a problem, and they need our help. He can't afford not to give us what we want."

"Don't count on it," Faraday said. "You've seen how clever Manta can be. He might be able to come up with a solution on his own, and then we'd be out in the cold. Now's the time to make a deal, while he still thinks he needs us."

Liadof's eyes flicked over to Hesse, as if confirming that he and the damning document he carried were still there. Then, without a word, she stood up from the chair and stomped to the exit.

But instead of leaving, she merely stopped beside the door and turned around. Crossing her arms across her chest, she stared defiantly at Faraday.

And that, Faraday decided reluctantly, was probably the best he was going to get. Stepping to the command station she'd just vacated, he sat down and turned on the chair's microphone. "Arbiter Liadof has left the conversation, Manta," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Now, how can we help you?"

"I'll start with a question for McCollum," Manta said. "Do you know anything about bits of growing message?"

McCollum looked blankly at Faraday as she turned on her microphone. "About
what?"

"Let me think," Manta said. There was a pause.... "Qanskan... DNA," he said haltingly in English.

"Ah," McCollum said. "Yes, I know a little. Nothing very detailed."

"I don't need details," Manta said, switching back to tonals. "Question: Are there tiny flips in the groups-of-bits-of-growing-message?"

McCollum shook her head. "I'm not getting this, Manta."

"I think he's talking about genes," Beach suggested. "It's not in the Qanskan dictionary, so he has to improvise."

"That part I got," McCollum said. "But what are these tiny flips he's talking about?
Wait
a second. Manta, are you talking about gene triggers? Genes that turn different sections of the code on and off, depending on growth stage or hormonal stimulus or environmental conditions?"

Manta seemed to think it over. "Yes," he said at last. "Do those exist?"

"I don't know," McCollum said. "I'd need to get some Qanskan genes to run tests on. But I know that most Earth species have them."

"Earth comparisons aren't good enough," Manta said. "I need to know about Qanska."

"How about Vuukan genes?" Sprenkle suggested. "Would that help?"

"You have some?" McCollum asked.

"The Omega Probe cage came up slathered with Vuukan blood and bits of torn tissue," he told her. "We've been—" he threw a look at Faraday "—a little off-duty since then, but someone must have saved a sample or two."

"In which case, they would also have analyzed it," McCollum agreed, her fingers tapping across her keyboard. "Let's see... okay, here we go. Let's see..."

She went silent, running a fingertip down one of her displays as she skimmed the report. "Mr. Milligan, what's the situation down there?" Faraday asked quietly. "Is Manta alone?"

"No, it looks like something of a delegation," Milligan reported, studying his sensor displays. "From the markings, we've got Manta, Pranlo and Drusni,
and
Counselor Latranesto."

So this was indeed an official conversation. Good. If they could get this hammered into place before Liadof found something else to object to—

"Got it," McCollum announced suddenly. "Boy, were you on target, Manta. There are a whole raft of them in here."

"Can you repeat that, please?" Manta said. "Some of those words didn't translate well."

Faraday frowned. The equipment buried in Manta's artificial spine should still be working, feeding him the human side of the conversation directly. Had it somehow failed?

Or had Manta simply forgotten how to understand English?

"There are quite a few trigger genes," McCollum told him. "Enough that you could actually get several different animals from this one single code, depending on which genes have been turned on and off. Like dog or cat variants; maybe even more."

"I understand," Manta said. "Is there any way for you to tell what the prompting factor might be?"

"Let me look," McCollum said, punching keys again. "Indications are that it's radiation of some kind. I'm not sure which part of the spectrum."

"It's not microwave or infrared," Milligan offered, studying his repeater display of her monitor as she skimmed down the listing. "The energy transition levels required are way too high for that. Must be soft X-rays, maybe even something higher."

"No, wait a second," McCollum said, her finger pausing on one of the lines. "Here's one low enough to be infrared-driven. Site 1557—"

"Hang on," Milligan said, locating the spot. "You're right. Nuts.

Well..."

"Could it be all the different light-parts that are involved?" Manta asked. "The whole herd of light-parts taken together?"

Across at his station, Sprenkle caught Faraday's eye. "He's leading the witness," he murmured. "That's significant."

Faraday nodded. And the precise significance of it wasn't hard to guess. "You seem to already know what's going on, Manta," he suggested. "Why don't you save us a lot of time and just tell us?"

There was a short pause. Then, a little hesitantly, the tonals began rumbling again. "Many types of plants and animals are disappearing from Centerline," the translation came. "Yet most of them are only brothers of those still here."

"Brothers?" Milligan asked under his breath.

"Variants," Beach told him.

"It's my belief that all the light-parts from Jupiter's center have decreased," Manta continued. "Without it, the tiny flips cannot function, and so the brothers stop being born."

"Interesting," Sprenkle murmured. "Mutation as a daily way of life."

"Strictly speaking, it's not mutation," McCollum corrected. "The genetic material is already there and in place, just waiting to be used. All the radiation is doing is turning different parts of the code on and off."