Mutant Star (28 page)

“You mean the ‘Blues’ in Mongolia and Tibet?”

“Yes, and a lot of other bizarre back-to-nature factions like them. Oh, they’ve gone back to nature, all right. Until they need media coverage. Then they’re surprisingly sophisticated, amazingly savvy.”

“You don’t need bad publicity, Ethan.”

“Don’t tell me my job, Jasper. I can just imagine Melanie Akimura leading a posse of investigative reporters down my throat if I so much as touch one hair on her precious son’s head. Maybe you’re right, Jasper. Maybe I should leave the genetic engineering to the mutants.”

Saladin smiled sourly. “I know you better than that, Ethan. You don’t give up so easily.” He paused, obviously intrigued. “So Rick Akimura is the potential cell donor?”

“Yes. And don’t we have a geneticist on the payroll?”

“Yeah, but you’d need tissue samples.”

“I can get them.”

“Then do it, Ethan,” Saladin said. “Before somebody else does.”

.

******************

13

Eva poked her head into the room, her eyes sparkling. “They’ve started work on the flare lab. Want to watch?”

“I guess,” Julian said.

Reluctantly, he joined her in the hallway. He was amazed by her adaptability. From Earth to orbit, from academic environment to private research program. Eva kept her balance. She stared out the observation port with unrestrained glee.

“Julian, it’s even more beautiful than I’d imagined. Ethan has created his own private paradise up here.”

He glanced at the cloud-covered Earth, willing himself to relax and enjoy the view. “You’re right,” he said. “He’s achieved more than I’d expected.” And indeed the many-layered satellite was filled with wonders. But try as he might, Julian couldn’t shake free of his resentment of Hawkins. The man had cheated him of the woman he loved.

They passed the atrium gardens, the hydroponics, the freestanding pool wavering like a blue gem in its g-field. And finally they came to the flare lab.

Eva uttered a short cry of recognition and caught at Julian’s arm. Julian could see why she was so excited. The lab was taking shape already. And before Hawkins was finished it would be equipped with new and glittering equipment, state of the art.

“That bastard will do a perfect job,” Julian said.

“Be grateful,” Eva said. “He’s giving us another chance. You’ll get your doctorate on time.”

“I suppose he’s even arranged for mutants with the flare disorder to be part of the program?”

“Of course. Marcus Schueller is on his way up here.”

“Hawkins thinks of everything, doesn’t he?”

“I hope so,” Eva said. She pointed at a tangle of wires and electrodes. “Look. I jury-rigged a flare-ride headset. When Marcus gets here, we can continue working.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to wait until the lab’s completed and we can run regular shifts?”

Eva’s gaze was implacable. “I don’t want to wait,” she said. “Not for anything. Marcus is due to arrive this afternoon. We’ll get started then.”

***

Rick sent a probe into Ethan Hawkins’s office. Empty. Good. He t-jumped through three levels and materialized in front of the office holoscreen. After double-checking that he was alone, he set up a shield to prevent anyone from seeing him.

“Leporello,” he said. The voice was deep, powerful, almost a perfect copy of Hawkins’s bass.

The screens remained dark.

Rick added a bit more resonance, a touch of chocolaty baritone. “Leporello, answer me.” The screen flickered and the suave face of Hawkins’s virtual assistant appeared.

“Colonel?” Leporello gazed around the room. “I thought you were just on the observation deck.”

“Well,” Rick said. “I’m back in the office now.”

“Where?”

“Can’t you see me?”

“No.”

“But I’m right here in front of you.”

“Perhaps it’s my visual circuits,” said the simulacrum uncertainly. “I’ll have them checked right away. Meanwhile, how may I serve?”

“I’d like a report on the year-to-date profits for Aria Corp.”

“Now? But we’re not even at the end of the first quarter …”

“Now. Onscreen.”

“Very well.”

Leporello’s image vanished and in its place a waterfall of orange numbers danced through the air above the holoscreen.

Rick watched, amazed. How could Hawkins digest all this stuff?

A fragment of “Die Fledermaus,” hummed by a bass voice, floated into the room. Hawkins was coming.

“Screen off,” Rick said.

The orange waterfall vanished.

Rick sat down quickly on the nearest wallseat.

Hawkins strode in, still humming. He stopped abruptly. “Rick, what are you doing here? I didn’t expect to see you until after lunch.”

Think fast. “Colonel, I want you to redirect any business you have in the Pacific Rim. The revolution in Thailand will disrupt all private industry.”

“That’s a tall order,” Hawkins replied. “Besides, it was just last week that you told me to invest heavily there.”

“I know, I know. I didn’t foresee that the future can change. But enough random factors must conspire at any moment to slant a vision one way or the other.” Rick ran his hands through his hair. “Anyway, you’ve got to redirect your business there. Maybe bring it to Africa.”

Hawkins inclined his head in mock salute. “You’ll forgive me if I take that under advisement?”

The deskscreen buzzed.

“Colonel Hawkins, Jasper Saladin is calling.”

“Excuse me, Rick,” Hawkins said. “Put him through.”

Saladin’s three-dimensional image formed above the holoscreen. “Ethan, we’re in a jam.”

“How so?”

“We’ve got to replace the number five thruster under the Pavilion as soon as possible: the casing is cracked and starting to come loose.”

“Christ,” Hawkins muttered. “Isn’t there any way you can repair it? Fuse the casing?”

“We’ve tried. Even sent out a telekinetic with the mechs. But it’s no good.”

“How soon before we get a replacement?”

“It’s due up in two days.”

Hawkins scowled. “Can’t we get along until then?”

“I hope so. What I’d really like is a techie who has as much strength as you do in your prosthetic arm.”

“Well, why not use me then? I could handle tools, once upon a time.”

“Ethan, it’s a little unorthodox to have the CEO making repairs—”

“Bah. You’ve practically said I’m the man for the job. Besides, it’ll be a kick to take a spacewalk again. I’ll do it, Jasper. Send me the schematics.”

Saladin nodded and his image vanished. Silently, a printout extruded from the screen. Hawkins tore it off and began studying it intently. He seemed to have forgotten all about Rick.

“Colonel?”

Hawkins looked up from the schematics and smiled. “Forgive me, Rick. Is there anything else?”

“No. Not yet.” He turned to go.

But Hawkins was staring at him in a calculating manner.

“Just a moment, Rick. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in accompanying me?”

“On a spacewalk?”

“I might need another pair of hands out there.”

Rick hesitated. He hadn’t expected this. “I don’t know. Sounds risky.”

“You’ll be as safe as you are right this minute,” Hawkins said, grinning.

“If you say so.” Rick told himself there was nothing to fear. He could always t-jump back into the Pavilion. Or to Earth.

“Fine. Meet me at airlock number three in an hour.”

“Okay.” Rick started to walk toward the door. But Hawkins still didn’t seem to be through with him.

In a very careful tone he said, “Rick, I can’t tell you how pleased I am with our business arrangement.”

“Don’t have to. Just keep the paychecks coming.”

“Would you be interested in adding to those payments?”

“How so?”

Hawkins took a deep breath. “How do you feel about gene splicing?”

“Using my genes, do you mean?” Rick regarded Hawkins with amusement.

“Well, yes,” Hawkins said. “You must admit that you do have splendid talents. And if you were to share them …”

Rick leaned against the doorway. “Isn’t this sort of thing just theoretical?”

“Well, to some extent. But they’re making strides in the technology all the time. I’d have to consult researchers, specialists, of course. If they gave me a green light, what would your reaction be?”

“I’d say maybe I’m interested. Maybe.” He turned and met Hawkins’s gaze directly. “And then again, maybe not. You tell me what the specialists say first and then I’ll decide.”

Rick walked out of the office, keeping his pace casual, unhurried. When he knew he was out of sight and earshot, he t-jumped back to his room. That orange waterfall still danced in his memory. And now that Hawkins so obviously wanted to exploit him to the fullest, Rick’s conscience was clear.

He turned his roomscreen on.

“Privacy shield, please.”

The screen responded, glowing bright green. Rick probed it a bit, found the shield adequate. “Get me Moon Bank.”

After a slight pause, a blue-haired woman appeared onscreen. Her features had the extreme symmetry of a simulacrum.

“How may I help you?”

“I’d like to open a private, secured, numbered account,” Rick said.

“Voice-activated?”

“Is that the best security you offer?” The sim smiled. “For extra special accounts we require voice and retinal scan.”

“Okay,” Rick said. “Sign me up for one of those.”

***

Rita Saiken grasped Paula Byrne’s hands gently. “Sister, I came as soon as I got your message.”

The Book Keeper of the True Host leaned back against the pink wallcushions in her bedroom and gave Saiken a glassy look. Her mouth worked hard to form a word. “Monstrous,” she told the healer finally. “He is monstrous.”

“Who?”

“Rick Akimura.”

“What?” Saiken peered at her uncertainly. “What are you saying?”

“Too strong. He is too strong for us, Rita. Much too strong.” Tears ran down Byrne’s face. “He nearly killed me with a mental probe. Didn’t even realize his own strength. I still suffer residual flares from it.”

“By the Book!”

“Only neural dampers mask the pain.” She swallowed hard and went on. “He may be the promised one, Rita. But he will not help us. I feel certain of that. He is a horror. A devil.”

“I can’t believe this,” Saiken said. “Sister, calm yourself. Allow me to link and provide healing—”

“No!” Byrne pushed her away. “Stay out of my head if you value your own sanity.”

“But our studies, Paula. We’ve already contacted the mother. She’s promised full cooperation.”

“And the father?”

“She’s promised his as well.”

“But you haven’t spoken to him yet?”

“No.”

Byrne pursed her lips. “Then you must go. Demand a plenary session of the Western Council.”

“Now? It’s not even midyear.”

“The timing can’t be helped.” Byrne’s gaze was suddenly harsh, unrelenting. “Rita, this is urgent. Urgent! Soon Rick Akimura will seek to test the limits of his talents. All of our people must he warned.”

“And the nonmutants? What about them?”

Byrne sighed. “Yes. Yes, of course. Warn them as well. Warn everyone.”

***

Rick t-jumped into the corridor near airlock three. Too late, he saw Hawkins standing by a large observation window watching the Moon. He barely avoided colliding with him.

“Sorry!”

The colonel whipped around, fists clenched defensively. “Rick, I didn’t see you.” He relaxed and stretched. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

“Yeah.”
Good thing Hawkins had been looking out the window instead of down the hall. Have to be more careful.

“The pressure suits are in that room next door, behind the web doors. Let me check your suit seals before we step out into the vasty deep of space.”

“You’re looking forward to this, aren’t you?”

Hawkins’s eyes twinkled. “Why not? A little jaunt into the void. I don’t do it often enough.” He patted Rick on the shoulder. “Don’t forget those seals.”

Rick shrugged into an orange pressure suit, and then put a white space-shielded wrapper over it. A moment later Hawkins joined him, his wrapper already in place.

“Tighten that third seam by your throat,” Hawkins said. “Otherwise you’ll be gulping vacuum.”

“Right.” Rick wondered if he could set a t-field in place strong enough to withstand the rigors of space. Maybe he’d experiment once they were out there.