Saga of Shadows 1: The Dark Between the Stars (12 page)

Fortunately, his own wife never posed any problems, never interfered, never demanded too much. He had made the terms clear when he arranged the marriage: he needed a woman who was willing to operate within those parameters.

Now that he was back on Sheol, Iswander considered going to the residence deck to see his family, greet his son (who revered his father), give Londa a peck on the cheek, answer her few rote questions . . . but he could do that later. Right now, he wanted to settle into his office—which, truth be told, felt more like home than the residence deck did anyway.

When Iswander reviewed the geological reports from Pannebaker, he began to frown. The tidal stresses were higher than any previously recorded in eighteen years of study. His consultants had made no mention of that, perhaps because they knew he didn’t want them to find any problems. Had they missed something?

Garrison claimed to have uncovered second-and third-order oscillations in the orbiting planetary fragments, which would begin a cycle that brought the two halves even closer, a minuscule difference in an astronomical sense, but enough to increase the tidal heating. Magma flowed upward at a higher temperature, heat plumes intensified, quakes struck more frequently—all of which had implications for the stability of his processing structures.

Although Lee Iswander didn’t waste money on unnecessary protective measures, he did have a healthy respect for the inherent hazards here. The Sheol facility was dangerous by its very nature, but he had made sure it was designed with enough heat shielding to offer adequate—though not overboard foolish—protection. He had taken reasonable measures. Nevertheless, he would have to look into this in greater depth—discreetly, so as not to cause a panic. Garrison had already caused some uneasiness among the workers, and these fluctuations would only make the anxiety worse.

Pannebaker cheerfully interrupted him over the comm. “The
Voracious Curiosity
is here a day early, Chief. Captain Kett says she wanted to catch you sleeping.”

“I rarely sleep,” Iswander said. “Good thing our shipment is ready.”

“And best of all—a fourth lava geyser just erupted! Our sensors picked up the heat spike, and it’s jetting high, definitely visible from the landing platform.”

“Why is that good news?”

“Because it’s spectacular. Captain Kett will see it as she comes in. She loves a good show. She’s brought Tasia Tamblyn and Robb Brindle along to handle the business details.”

Iswander nodded to himself. Considering the erupting geysers, maybe it was a good thing the
Curiosity
had arrived a day early. With luck, her ship could fly off to Newstation with its cargo before anything dangerous or embarrassing happened here.

T
HIRTEEN

Z
OE
A
LAKIS

Every time Tom Rom returned from a voyage, he delivered vital material for the Pergamus research teams—scientifically valuable data, symptom records and case studies, potential treatments, pharmaceuticals, or cutting-edge equipment that had not yet been released on the market. Zoe Alakis wanted
everything.
At the very least he always brought her something interesting.

Zoe’s planetary security teams had clear instructions to let Tom Rom through. As soon as her perimeter scouts sent word that his ship had arrived in Pergamus orbit, Zoe reminded them that she would tolerate no delay. She wanted to see him as soon as possible.

Of course, her own protective systems caused most of the delay—he would take hours to pass through seventeen successive levels of decontamination and sterilization before she let him see her face-to-face—but she would not loosen those requirements, not even for him. People were too dangerous, diseases were too dangerous, and she had no need for any closer contact.

Zoe kept her dark hair short, so she could easily don a decon suit and cap in an emergency. She had prominent eyebrows, deep brown eyes, and pale skin. She was careful to breathe through her nose, for added protection from the implanted filters in her nostrils. She ate bland food—processed and cooked, never anything raw.

Pergamus was a medical-research complex and extensive disease library, the largest one in existence. And it belonged to her alone: privately funded and beholden to no government, university, or research consortium. No one else could be trusted. No one else
deserved
it. Zoe Alakis had it all.

Pergamus barely qualified as a planet, as it wasn’t much larger than an asteroid. It held only a tenuous atmosphere, and what little there was proved to be poisonous. The facility was isolated and safe.

Zoe insisted on layers of precautions—she had her reasons—and any researcher who wanted to work for the obscenely high pay she offered had to agree to certain conditions. They could share nothing about their work—absolutely nothing, with anyone, on pain of death. Those specific words were in their contracts. She owned their breakthroughs, their cures and treatments, all of their records, and the genetic mappings of any viruses and bacteria that couldn’t be cured.

Zoe resided alone in the facility’s central dome, which she never left. Separate from the main dome, fourteen isolated laboratory domes had been built at varying distances, far enough to protect them if a sterilization blast were required. In those groundside domes, researchers conducted studies on cancers, neurological disorders, brain deterioration. Eight of the domes were devoted to various infectious diseases—at least the ones considered tame enough to be studied on the planet’s surface. For the more dangerous organisms and risky treatment protocols, she had twelve Orbiting Research Spheres, some spinning to provide artificial gravity, others motionless for zero-G research.

Every one of the laboratories, the groundside domes as well as the orbiting satellites, had thorough fail-safe sterilization protocols, along with a no-exceptions set of rules as to when they were to be used. She would allow no unnecessary risks, no outbreaks. Everything was controlled by her inflexible procedures, programmed in black and white. Zoe never let herself get personally attached to her researchers, nor did she want anyone else to have a moment of personal doubt in a crisis.

On the monitor screens inside her central dome, she followed Tom Rom’s progress through decontamination. She opened the comm. “How much longer?”

He turned his face to the image pickup and smiled at her, his eyes bright. “As long as it takes. No shortcuts. I’d never risk exposing you.”

She monitored him as he passed through airlock after airlock, one decon chamber after another and yet another. Chemical sprays, UV bursts. Each one made him cleaner, safer. He risked so much out there for her.

Tom Rom had a lean and muscular body that she admired without the least bit of arousal. Though she loved him more than any other human being, he was not her lover. No one had ever been her lover. The thought of physical intimacy disgusted her. The sharing of bodily fluids—not just semen but saliva, perspiration, sloughed-off skin cells, pubic hairs, even exhaled breath—not only repelled her, it sent her into a panic. She abhorred the thought of kissing someone, holding hands, touching in the most intimate of fashions.

Any such contact could only increase Zoe’s risk of unnecessary exposure to contaminants. There were so many ways that the human body could go wrong. From her father, she knew that all too well.

Around her office, electron micrographs showed in exquisite and terrifying detail salivary bacteria, dust mites, virally invaded cells, degenerated nerve fibers, stunted and mutated ganglia. To Zoe, these were monsters more horrifying than the Klikiss warrior caste, the hydrogue warglobes, or any other alien species. And these microscopic enemies in their myriad forms invaded from everywhere, unseen. They changed constantly, mutating in order to find new ways to attack human systems.

It was an odds game, and she intended to stack the deck. She didn’t risk breathing unfiltered air or consuming unsterilized food or water. She viewed this as a war, one she knew she could never win, but she had created a sort of neutral ground here on Pergamus.

Tom Rom emerged naked from the last chamber, dried himself off, and donned a white jumpsuit, entirely unselfconscious. He stood before her, such a magnificent man, such a loyal knight. No, he was not and would never be her lover—but he would do anything for her, and she would do anything for him. He was her life.

Zoe had been raised in a scientific observation tower deep in the primeval forests of Vaconda. Her parents, Adam and Evelyn Alakis, had settled in the lichentree jungles, mostly alone on the entire planet and laughing off the obvious “Adam and Eve” jokes.

They had claimed a large homestead, filed the necessary papers, and built a tall forest watchtower above the pointed lichentrees. They were a brave pioneer family on a previously unclaimed world. The Alakis family set about exploring, cataloguing the Vaconda flora and fauna in hopes of finding some profitable export crop, particularly pharmaceuticals, which could help other people. Adam and Evelyn Alakis had been successful in discovering new bark extracts, potent spores, and slime-mold distillates, which were put to use in Hansa medicine, curing several rare diseases.

For her own part, Zoe remembered enduring many jungle fevers as a child—nightmares, chills, delirium. But she recovered every time, got better, stronger, developed immunities.

When Zoe was only eight, her mother’s flyer crashed in the thick lichentree jungles kilometers from the homestead. Responding to the auto-distress call, Adam threw Zoe into their second flyer and the two of them raced out from the forest watchtower to rescue his wife. Reaching the crash site, Adam and Zoe extracted Evelyn from the wreckage, took her back to the homestead, and tried to treat her. Adam had a medical background, and was competent in first aid, but he couldn’t repair his wife’s extensive injuries. Though young, Zoe was already self-sufficient and helpful, and she tried her best to assist . . . but it was not enough. Evelyn died before they could arrange to get her offworld to a sophisticated medical facility. Spores had already begun to grow in her open wounds. . . .

Zoe was stunned. She had never felt so alone, and yet Adam remained on the planet, insisting that Vaconda was a treasure chest. He was still a pioneer, sure that he and Zoe could survive.

With its vines, insects, lichentrees, and bitter-smelling winds, this was a primordial world, and the isolation was profound. Adam’s inability to help Evelyn after the accident convinced him to bring in other helpers—biologists, summer students, itinerants, so that he and his daughter wouldn’t be so helpless and cut off. Part-timers came, one or two at a time, to work in the jungle and live in the watchtower. When their temporary contracts were over, they left. Adam was unable to find anyone with an equal level of dedication and determination, to commit to the work and to Adam and Zoe.

Until Tom Rom came. And he made up for all the others. . . .

Now, freshly decontaminated, he stood in her presence, still keeping a safe distance. Tom Rom displayed a file explaining what he had brought back from Kuivahr. “It’s a Roamer distillation facility on an Ildiran world. Several species of plankton and kelp there have interesting extracts, some with peculiar properties. Worth analyzing for possible benefits. I brought samples of the different types Del Kellum uses in brewing and distillation. There’s also a kind of liquor the Ildirans consume. It’s unpalatable to humans but supposedly has tonic effects for Ildirans.”

“Humans and Ildirans have many biological similarities, but we’re not identical,” Zoe said. “My library has a whole section on Ildiran diseases that have no effect on humans.”

“It might be worth a follow-up visit to Kuivahr. The Ildiran researcher there is studying genetic abnormalities in mixed-breeds.”

“Physical deformities?” Zoe asked. Those wouldn’t interest her at all.

“Deep DNA studies to see why some of the breedings fail.”

“Yes, it might be valuable data for the library—if you can get the Ildirans to give us their records. But that’s not what I want from you next.” When Zoe stood, she kept her desk between them at first. Tom Rom knew not to get closer than five feet. That was their agreement. She was a very different person now from the girl she had been on Vaconda, and she lived in a very different universe.

After a brief hesitation, Zoe finally came around, standing as close to him as she dared. “I found something else I want you to look into.”

One wall of her office chamber was covered with a mosaic of images culled from thousands of news networks. She could spend hours sifting through the selections to find any report that interested her, an outbreak of an unusual sickness, perhaps, or some kind of miracle cure. In many cases, samples of new plagues were easy to obtain, and she employed other scouts and investigators to gather them. Bribes were usually sufficient to obtain library copies of new vaccines or treatments.

Sometimes, though, Zoe suspected an investigation could be particularly dangerous. For those matters she relied upon Tom Rom.

She selected the proper mosaic screen, enlarged it, and showed him the report that had caught her interest. A man had been arrested for dissecting the fallen Klikiss bodies left scattered on their abandoned worlds—and also for extracting and devouring some parts of them.

In a short video clip, the man cried, “They have royal jelly!” but his eyes were wild as he fought against the authorities. “It cured me!”

“According to records,” Zoe said, “that man had not been suffering from any major disease at all, so no need for any miracle cure.”

“He’s obviously insane,” Tom Rom said.

“Yes, he is . . . but even insane people can have good ideas. I find his claims fascinating. Go to a place where there are Klikiss bodies, extract this royal jelly, and bring it here so we can run tests. Don’t call attention to yourself. If the royal jelly turns out to have exceptional properties, we’ll want to harvest it from as many Klikiss bodies as possible before anyone else realizes the potential.”