Reclamation (41 page)

Individuals can still betray.
Uary forced the thought away and bent over the keys again.

Concentrate,
he ordered himself.

He needed to be careful how he managed this. Two dozen other Bio-technicians and their Beholden waited for him to begin siphoning the raw data and rough conclusions he gleaned from the study of the artifacts. They would filter all they received even farther down, focus on their own areas of expertise, replicate each others’ analyses, and then funnel their results back into the main datastore, where the revelations could be organized, integrated, and returned to him. The subcommittees would work in shifts around the clock to understand the artifacts, but the first analysis was his. For a few brief hours, Uary had the artifacts to himself.

He did not like to think about the fact that he had Basq’s political maneuvering to thank for that. He was quite sure Basq didn’t either. But Uary was the Bio-tech for Basq’s committee. If Basq was assigned to the recovery of the artifacts, so was Uary.

Uary opened the connections from his datastore to the secondary storage that could be tapped by the other Bio-techs. He did it carefully, introducing small flaws into the lines’ controls. He couldn’t hide completely, but he could delay. He could be a little slow in filtering the gathered data from his private store to the committee-accessible store. The lines could require extra processing time because of the volume and complexity of the data. The ship-to-ship transmitters could have difficulty finding open channels that would guarantee that the packages would arrive intact. These little things could be made to add up.

I only hope they will add up long enough for me to decide what to do.

The rush of the door opening jerked his head up. A bizarre procession crossed the lab’s threshold. Two Internship Ambassadors flanked the support capsule like an honor guard. Behind them marched Basq, shoulders back and eyes straight ahead. Uary wondered what he was hiding behind his propriety. Was it triumph? Or was it despair at the fact he had lost his Wife to the Imperialist cause, just as he had lost his son?

The Witness matched Basq’s stride without mimicking any of his attitude. Her camera lens tracked across the room until it settled on Uary. Involuntarily, he looked away.

Uary got to his feet as his Beholden made obeisance to the parade. He did not look at Basq. He rounded the corner of his terminal and leaned across the capsule’s transparent lid. The artifact lay stiff and still from the tranquilizers being delivered into its system. Uary checked the monitors on the capsule’s sides. Any outside observer would see the readings and think this was a Human from a world with the upper end of tolerable gravity and a rather thick atmosphere. Anybody who hadn’t seen inside the bruised and sun-damaged skin would think that. Anybody who didn’t know this was a legacy from their Ancestors.

“I will remain here and watch while you siphon what we need from him,” announced Basq, “to make sure nothing is lost this time.” He sat in one of the observation chairs. “We have very little time available. You’ll begin siphoning him at once.”

Uary turned toward him and he knew Basq and the Witness both saw the fury on his face. Never mind that, even after what happened at the market, and even though he knew the ships were on their way to the populated section of the Home Ground. This was his place, not Basq’s, never Basq’s.

“I will first be creating an overall map of his physical structure in its functioning state, making a particular note of the anomalies that are sure to be present,” he said, using a frozen tone he wouldn’t have disposed on the worst Beholden. “We will extract samples from the tissues, bones, and organs for cloning and close study in isolation. Using that data, we will begin designing a series of retroviruses that can be used to insert marker proteins for a comprehensive genetic analysis. Then, and only then, will we be prepared to begin a program of neurochemical stimulation to analyze the working system in detail. You may sit there and watch if you wish to, but you had better send for someone to bring you meals and bedding. This will take days.”

“You do not have days,” said Basq. “We need to understand how this artifact functions as soon as possible. Do I have to contact our team leader to reinforce this?”

Uary did nothing for a moment but concentrate on breathing.

“You can do what you want,” he said. “I will do what this investigation requires.” Uary turned his back on Basq. “Supervisor Lairdin, you will calibrate the tank to capture the preliminary physical map of the artifact.”

He could almost feel the heat of Basq’s anger against his shoulder blades. He did hear the swish of Basq’s robes as the Ambassador strode over to the intercom. Uary did not look at him. His Beholden scrambled around the main holding tank, setting the specifications using the available data on Eric Born. The side tanks pumped refreshed analysis gels back into the main unit. Uary waved the Intership Ambassadors away from the sides of the support capsule. He checked the monitors one more time to make sure the artifact was in a stable condition. Lairdin positioned herself at the capsule’s foot and her intern, Cierc, took his place at the head.

Uary shut the power off and snapped the catches on the cover. It swung back and Uary leapt out of the way. Lairdin and Cierc grabbed the handles of the inner structure and swiftly lifted Born and his support tubes out of the capsule and plunged the entire structure into the gel-filled holding tank.

Uary thrust his arms into sterile gloves and then into the gel. Needles had to be inserted in the artifact’s skin and veins. He laid monitor pads on its temples, wrists, throat, and chest. He attached feed lines to the tubes already in place to allow for chemical and viral transmission.

When the last needle was in place, Uary lifted his arms away and held them over the artifact, dripping globs of gel into the holding tank.

“Status?” he barked.

Lairdin ran her fingers over the tank’s monitor screens. “Sample is stable. Support functions optimal. Feeds clear and ready.”

“Bio-technician Uary,” called Basq. “Ambassador Ivale wishes to speak with you directly.”

Uary stripped off his gloves and dropped them into the cleaner on the side of the holding tank. “Start taking static baseline measurements,” he said to Lairdin. Every drop of data would help.

“Ambassador Ivale.” Uary positioned himself in front of the screen. The Ambassador stood calmly on the other end of the line, but Uary had the feeling Ivale was not prepared to hear anything he had to say. “I must caution against haste. If we try to understand the system before we understand the structure, we risk damaging the artifact before we’ve acquired the information that we really need.”

“Ordinarily I would agree with you, Bio-technician,” said Ivale, “but events are proceeding and we cannot be slow. You are to get what information you can from the artifact regarding the nature and function of its extramechanical abilities. You will use the same criteria in conducting your analysis of the female artifact when it arrives. These are the most pertinent to the Reclamation. We have less than twenty hours before the Second Company lands in the populated segment.”

“You hold my name, Ambassador,” Uary said. “We’ll begin now.”

The Ambassador closed the line and Uary forced his attention to his Beholden waiting by the tank. What Ivale didn’t know, of course, was that he had just played straight into the Imperialists’ hands. It was now a matter of record that Uary had been told to circumvent protocol and put the artifacts at risk.

Now he had his pick of ways to destroy the work of the Ancestors. There was too much that could go wrong with living cells. Too much that shifted and recombined. Too many factors had to be accounted for, no matter how great the capacity of the computer that oversaw the job and ran the projections. There were hints that the Ancestors had worked with living cells and living organisms like Engineers worked with ceramic and steel and with results that were just as steady and predictable. The Vitae were the best genetic engineers the Quarter Galaxy had to offer, but their Ancestors had been better. How they had performed their miracles was beyond Uary. It was beyond anybody. It had been stolen by the Aunorante Sangh. He regarded the artifact’s face, immobile behind the oxygen mask.

And I thought I’d be its rescuer. I thought I’d be able to force this artifact, this Aunorante Sangh, to give it all back.

Uary wet his lips as he sat down at his own terminal.
Maybe I can still get some of it.

“Normally, by the time we begin investigating a biological system, we return the sample to an active state.” Uary reconfigured the board to bring his private notes onto the display.

“No,” Basq announced. “Not this one. You’ve seen the reports. We cannot risk it being able to use its … extramechanical abilities.”

There was an older word for it, but Uary knew Basq would not let himself be heard talking about anything so primitive and superstitious as telekinesis, even if it was a marvel engineered by the Ancestors.

“Very well,” Uary said, “but if we cannot trace any activity in its resting state to those ‘extramechanical abilities,’ then we will have to wake it up.”

“Lairdin”—Uary opened the line between his terminal and the tank—“make sure its support signs remain stable and watch particularly for any rise in system temperature.”

By way of answer, Lairdin stationed herself in front of the monitors, like a conductor waiting to give the orchestra its signal.

Basq came and stood behind his right shoulder. The Witness stood behind his left. Uary felt his skin crawl but repressed the sensation. There was work to do and that made it easier. He laid in the primary search commands and moved the ACTIVATE key into position.

Catheters swam down the needles into the artifact’s veins. Its blood flowed into pipettes lowered by the delivery tubes. The pads gripped it and measured the type and level of electrochemical activity in its body. The analysis gel, an outgrowth of the organic chip technology, pressed close to its skin, creeping through its pores. The neurochemical reactions the gel encountered would rearrange its protein configuration. The changes would be replicated along its molecular chains. When the terminals analyzed the gel, they would produce a map of neurological activity, beginning at the epidermis and ending at the bone.

Analysis and simulations performed on samples of the artifacts’ DNA and RNA that had been obtained while it was under a Vitae contract had yielded five separate neurotransmitters that were thought to be involved in the generation and projection of the telekinesis. Locating their point of origin should not be difficult. Even so, this was no simple matter of matching chemicals to their receptors in the cells. The artifact’s synaptic layout had to have been redesigned from first principles that were vastly different from those that gave birth to the naturally born human race.

The differences should be quiescent while the artifact was unconscious. A telekinetic that wrecked havoc when it had nightmares would not be a useful tool. While the telekinetic receptors were quiescent, they would be next to invisible. There would be no choice but to apply stimulation. Which could quite easily terminate the artifact, as no proper analysis of the gel had been done yet.

But it did not necessarily have to terminate it quickly.

Raw data, little more than numbers and labels, flashed across Uary’s screen. Most of it flitted directly to storage to await further organization, but the levels and concentrations of the targeted neurotransmitters stayed in a tidy column on the left-hand side of the screen.

Uary frowned. The numbers were much higher than any that had turned up in the simulations conducted on the artifact’s blood samples.

And they were increasing.

“Bio-tech!” called Lairdin.

Uary vaulted out of his chair and ran to the tank. Inside, the gel churned around the artifact. Waves and whirlpools pressed against the lid and washed against the sides. Moisture appeared around the seals and a moment later the overload alarms began to shrill. Uary’s gaze swept the monitors. The numbers and levels jumped and flickered, fast, and faster, and far too fast.

“Get the neutralizer in!” he shouted. “Shut it down! Shut it down!”

They moved. Even Basq was bright enough to see something was out of control and the Ambassador dodged out of the way as Lairdin raced to the holding tanks and slammed down the key for the pumps. With a chugging that should not have been there, the siphons fought to drain the roiling gel. The pumps flooded in a saline and anesthetic medium as a replacement. It coated the artifact and the alarms quieted.

Uary looked up into Lairdin’s frightened eyes.

“What happened?” Basq demanded. His voice rasped in his throat.

“Ask the Ancestors,” snapped Uary. “Lairdin, what’s the status of the gel?” His robes swirled around his ankles as he hurried back to his terminal.

He drew out the data as fast as he could read it. It was a jumble of numbers and statistical ranges, concentration levels and a few sketchy diagrams. There was nothing to compare any of it to. There was no way to tell what was normal and what was abnormal, or what reaction had triggered the telekinetic processes.

“Bio-technician,” said Lairdin, “the gel has been … damaged.”

She touched a key and Uary looked reflexively down at his own screen as the new data appeared. His knees buckled and he sat down hard in his chair.

The gel was not just damaged, it was shredded. Molecular chains had been disintegrated. Cells had burst. Clusters of infant tumors were appearing throughout the holding tank.

The artifact had all but destroyed four cubic meters of gel in less than twenty seconds, and there was no way to tell how it had begun.

Uary lifted his head. “We are going to have to wake it up.”

“No,” said Basq flatly.

“Then we can go no farther.” Uary folded his hands. “I have nothing to work with. I have no pattern of brain activity. I have no baseline neurochemical activity for the active state. I do not know what the normal status of the artifact is, so I cannot tell what initiated the telekinetic, your pardon, Ambassador,” he said bitterly, “the ‘extramechanical abilities.’ I do not know the system. Without even a partial map, I cannot understand anything.”