by D M Arnold
“Yes.”
Nyk let out a low whistle. “She does a good job of hiding it.”
“In those days if word got home, not only would I have been sent up but drawn and quartered, too. She keeps it from everyone -- even other Agents. She's discreet -- it's one trait that makes her a good assistant. She knows and she protects us. Don't let on you know this, Nyk.”
“Oh, I won't. So she and Dyppa have something in common.”
“I've told her a bit of young Dyppa. She was the one who convinced me to let you take your chances with her -- as I took my chances with her.”
“I'll tell you, Seymor -- from the first time I set foot in our office, I've enjoyed Jaquie. I think she's an attractive, classy woman.”
“You won't get an argument from me.” Seymor took a swig from a cup of cola. “Speaking of Dyppa -- how went her interrogation?”
“She had the worst reaction coming out of the drug. Thankfully, she doesn't remember any of it. On Floran they only use enough drug to get you into truth trance. On Altia they always use the maximum dose.”
“Did they learn anything?”
“She's back in Wisconsin, isn't she?” He sipped his soda. “Of course not. She had nothing to do with that bunch.”
“I'm relieved. I was a bit worried.”
“Needlessly.”
“Well,” Seymor said, “it looks like that so-called Tulsa virus has settled down.”
“You know -- I've been on so many plum assignments I haven't had a chance to catch up with Earth news.”
“It stopped after thirty four cases -- thirty four fatalities.”
“Thirty-five if you count Marxo.”
Seymor nodded. “It's seventy-two hours and no new cases. It disappeared as quietly as it surfaced.”
“That reminds me -- I must make a vidphone call when I get back to the office.” He took a bite of his sandwich. “Seymor...”
“Yes, lad?”
“I can't shake this bad feeling about the virus. I'm haunted by Marxo's face -- delirious, covered with those blotches. It was a nightmare.”
“Ever hear of Ebola?” Nyk shook his head. “It's a virus from Africa. The mortality rate is nearly as high -- and the deaths nearly as unpleasant. Your organs burst and you start vomiting blood...”
Nyk looked down at the remainder of his sandwich. “Thanks a lot.” He wrapped it in its paper and tossed it into the trash barrel.
“Sorry, lad,” Seymor said. “Come on -- you said you have a vidphone call to make.” Nyk stood and headed back toward the office.
He closed his door behind him and sat at the laptop. He flipped it open and started a vidphone session. Soon he saw Senta's image. “Senta,” he said. “Any progress?”
“On what?”
“My virus.”
“Oh... Nykkyo, I'm sorry but I'm afraid Kovina botched the analysis. I guess that's what happens when you delegate -- sometimes you have to put up with lower quality work than you can do yourself.”
“What do you mean, botched?”
“She thought you wanted the six sequences compared against each other. When I saw what she had done, I told her it was worthless.”
“I never thought of sequencing them against each other,” Nyk replied. “Why worthless?”
Senta made a petulant sigh. “Because -- they're all the same virus. A graduate student would've recognized it.”
“You mean virus I through VI are all the same?”
“Basically, yes. There are modifications between them, but the main genome is definitely the same for all six.”
“So -- what we have is a virus that, once it gets inside the body, mutates so it can fan out and destroy?”
“I wouldn't use the word mutate,” Senta replied. “Mutation implies random changes. The differences between I and VI are hardly random.”
“Can you send me a copy of Kovina's report anyway?”
“Certainly.”
“Senta?”
“Yes, Nyk.”
“I'd appreciate it if you'd take a close look at the sequences and verify Kovina's results.”
She sighed. “All right, Nyk. I'll do that, too.” The vidphone session went dark.
Nyk poked his head into Seymor's office. “Well -- the Tulsa virus? Did you know that actually six viruses are involved?”
“I had read that.”
“Did you also know that each of the six is a ... a mutant, a modification of the other five?”
“I believe the researchers at the CDC are thinking along the same line.” Seymor looked up. “Do we need to have another talk about domains of responsibility?”
“No -- I just thought I had something.” He headed back to his office and sat behind his desk. Something on the screen caught his eye. “Seymor!” he yelled. “Come here!”
Seymor stepped into the office and Nyk gestured him behind the desk. “Look!”
The Altian news feed scrolled breaking news. The Seven had issued a new communiqué, one containing an ultimatum. Their list of demands was to be met before the Standard Floran date of 6639.101APF or else the hegemony would feel the consequences.
“That's a gutsy ultimatum,” Seymor remarked. “Feel the consequences. What the hell does that mean?”
Nyk shook his head. “I don't know. Like I said, the situation on Altia grows more fascinating by the day.”
“Remember your domain of responsibility,” Seymor replied. “Ask yourself if Altia falls within or outside it.”
* * *
Nyk slipped his house key into the lock and opened the door to the house in Queens. “It's me, Yasuko,” he called toward the back of the house. On a chair near the front door he spotted a stack of folded plastic sheets and several rolls of duct tape.
Yasuko stepped from the kitchen. “Dinner's nearly ready, if you'd like to bring Nicky.”
He saw Nicky standing and holding onto a chair. “Hey, Nick!” Nicky dropped to all fours and crawled to him. Nyk picked up the boy, sat him on his knee and held out his palm. Nicky gave it a slap. “Are you hungry, buddy? Let's get some chow.”
He carried Nicky to the kitchen, set him in his high chair and began feeding him his dinner. “I see you've bought plastic and tape,” he said.
“Yes -- do you have any idea how difficult it was to locate? It seems everyone has the same idea.”
“What do you intend to do with it?”
“We can make a safe area. Nick -- do you think upstairs or down would be a better location?”
“Yasuko -- I don't think it's necessary at all. If something IS in the air -- you can't seal yourself off forever.”
“What about that woman downtown who caught anthrax out of the air?”
Nyk set Nicky's empty bowl on the table and set before him another filled with oat cereal rings. Nicky picked up an oat ring and threw it onto the floor. “No, no,” Nyk said, “none of that!” The boy picked up another and put it in his mouth. “That's better... That was isolated, Yasuko -- and, unfortunate.” She set a pair of bowls on the table and Nyk sat. “I suppose it depends if whatever it is happens to be heavier or lighter than air.”
“Maybe on the ground floor, then. I'll set something up in the guest room.”
“If it helps you sleep at night, Yasuko.”
“I don't care so much about myself, but for...” She looked toward Nicky. “Nick -- are you home for a while, now?”
He sipped broth from his bowl and swirled his chopsticks in it to pick up some noodles. “I certainly hope so. The fact I'm on the road doesn't keep the paperwork from piling up.”
“I'm pleased. George used to say the same... I'm sorry, Nick. I really have no claim on you. You go ahead and do what you must.”
“Yasuko... When I married Suki, I joined your family, for better or worse. I lost both my parents as a teen. You're my mom, now -- and this is my home.”
* * *
Nyk descended the stairs from the apartment. “Nicky's down and asleep,” he called out. “I read him a story.
Do you need anything, Yasuko?”
“No, I'm all right. Having you here makes all the difference.”
“I'm going to do some work upstairs and turn in.”
“Fine, Nick. Good night.”
He unpacked his laptop, switched it on and plugged it into the high-speed data circuit. In his inbox was a telemessage from Senta asking him to please call at his earliest convenience. He opened the vidphone window, punched in Senta's locator code and saw her image. She had answered from her lab.
“I have Kovina's report here,” she said, “which is good as far as it goes. You're right, Nyk -- there's more to this virus than meets the eye.”
“What do you mean?”
“Something's going on inside it. I'd be willing to bet there are more than six viruses. I'd guess hundreds -- maybe thousands.”
“Thousands?”
“Yes -- they fall into six broad categories. Instead of virus I through VI, I'd prefer to call them categories I through VI. I haven't been able quite to make it out. I think I'd like to bounce this off Dr Hanri.”
“Your old advisor?”
“Yes -- You were wrong, Nyk. HE's the finest mind in the field.”
“Then you're the second finest.”
Senta smiled. “Thanks, Nyk. I appreciate that.”
“Senta -- I'd prefer if you don't get anyone else involved. I want to keep this work as private as possible.”
“I trust Dr Hanri.”
“Nonetheless -- see if you can dope it out yourself, first.”
“All right, Nyk.” The vidphone went dark.
He punched in another locator code and the call connected. “Hi,” he said.
“Howdy, stranger,” Suki replied.
“I'm back from Altia.”
“How did that go?”
“Imagine having to walk through the roughest section of the South Bronx in order to reach a subway station and you'll have some idea how it went.”
“I'm happy to see you in one piece, then.”
“I was never in any danger -- I had Dyppa with me. The kid has street smarts -- like a New York girl I know.” Suki smiled. “How has this Altian threat been received on the homeworld?”
“To be honest, Nykkyo, I'm not familiar enough with the players to comprehend it. As far as I can tell, the people here seem unconcerned.”
“Altia is breeding ground for the same terrorist mentality as we see on Earth,” he replied. “From what I saw there, I understand why.”
“Do you think Altians are capable of carrying out a Trade Center style attack?”
“Capable? No doubt. Do they have the means? I don't know.”
“Couldn't they start flying shuttles into buildings?” Suki asked.
“It's not as easy as it sounds. I didn't call to discuss Altian politics. I thought we could have a different sort of talk. It's bedtime here for me...”
Suki smiled. “Unfortunately, it's time for me to go to the university for my lectures. I'll have to take a rain check on other discussions.”
“Ah, the time difference... In a couple weeks the Earth and Floran days will be better synchronized. We can discuss then.” He saw Andra step behind Suki and whisper into her ear. She glimpsed Nyk's image on the screen and waved to him.
“Andra and I are sharing the groundcar to the university,” Suki said. “I have to run.”
“Ask your students what they think of the Altian situation.”
“I'll do that. Bon'noka, Nykkyo.”
“Have a great day, korlyta.” The vidphone window went dark.
Nyk looked into the nursery and saw Nicky sleeping on his stomach in his crib. He stripped to his briefs, slid into bed, laced his fingers behind his head, took a deep breath and relaxed. From below he could hear Yasuko sobbing.
He slipped into his robe, descended the stairs and rapped on the door to her bedroom. “Yasuko -- are you all right? May I come in?”
“Come in, Nick...”
He opened the door. Yasuko lay in bed in a cotton slip, propped against pillows. Her eyes were red. Nyk sat on the bed, opened his arms and embraced her.
“Oh, Nick,” she wept. “When will it stop? You said you lost both parents. How long did it take you?”
He kissed the top of her head. “It never stops. I still miss them -- my mom, especially. Life goes on, and happiness returns. Ask yourself if this is what George or Suki would want to see you do.”
“Nick...” She held onto him.
“The demons are bothering you tonight.”
“They seem to know when I'm vulnerable.” He turned down the cover, lay beside her and held her. “Nick -- how is it so easy for you?”
“It's not. But, we can't change it, so why waste the energy? All this is pre-ordained, Yasuko. We each do what Destiny put us here to do. We're all fulfilling our purpose.”
“Your destiny talk again. Do you really believe there's some master plan for the universe?”
“I do know we all follow the paths Destiny traces for us. Whether there's a master plan, or if She's only a few metres in front of us, tracing as we go... that I don't know.”
“Oh, I miss them so...”
“So do I.” He caressed her short salt-and-pepper hair. “So do I.” Yasuko began to calm “Are you all right?”
“I will be.”
“I'll go, then.”
“Please stay with me tonight.”
Nyk sat up and removed his robe. Then, he lay and held her as she sobbed softly against his shoulder.
* * *
Seymor poked his head into Nyk's office. “Lad -- I just sent you a message. It's a clip from the Floran News Bureau.”
Nyk opened the message and scanned it. His jaw dropped. “The Seven are claiming possession of a weapon of mass destruction -- a planet-killer.” He looked up. “If their ultimatum isn't satisfied -- they'll select and destroy a colony planet at random.” He looked up at his boss. “What's the reaction on the homeworld?”
“The smart money says it's Altian sabre-rattling. There have been these sorts of threats before. They've never panned out.”
“Except for that time when Lexalese rebels attempted to overthrow their chancellor,” Nyk observed. “Altia was in deep for that adventure.”
“And the result was a stronger Lexal, and a more civilized Altia,” Seymor replied. “The independence faction there had its fangs pulled. The Altian fleet was disbanded and the vessels dispersed. The Seven is effectively planetbound.”
“Hence the opinion this is more bark than bite,” Nyk mused. “I'm not sure I'd share that view. I came face-to-face with some Altian commandos and they weren't the talking sort ... more the shoot-first-talk-later variety.” He rested his chin on his fist. “Hmm... I wonder... What could kill a planet? Beam weapons of that power aren't feasible -- it'd need to be as big as a planet itself. What about an antimatter bomb?”
“Creating and containing sufficient antimatter to build a bomb has eluded the best and brightest minds on the homeworld. So far, such a device is only theoretical.”
“Luckily for all of us. I suppose enough nuclear bombs could do the job, but I can't believe such a group on Altia could amass enough material.”
“It's a mineral warehouse,” Seymor replied. “They could mine and refine uranium.”
“They would need support from the Altian miners, and from what Dyppa tells me, they are not sympathetic to The Seven's agenda. Besides, Floran's Defense Research Labs keep a tight lid on bomb-making details...” He looked up. “Do you think it possible Marxo was a Seven double agent smuggling bomb-making technology from Earth to Altia?”
“That thought never crossed my mind. Why would you suspect Marxo?”
“He was in Tulsa when he was supposed to be in Scottsdale,” Nyk replied. “We knew he wasn't doing his job there. It would explain the double identity.”
“I figured he was merely inept.” Seymor sat on Nyk's desk. “Lad -- have you ever heard of Heinlein's Razor?”
“No. What is i
t?”
“Heinlein's Razor states that if you must choose between malice and incompetence as an explanation for someone's actions -- it's most likely to be incompetence.”
“There's plenty of malice surrounding this whole Tulsa business,” Nyk replied.
“I doubt The Seven is a big enough organization to make nukes in the requisite quantities. Even if they could -- they have no way to deliver them.”
Nyk nodded. “You're probably right. They might be able to detonate one, but that would hardly kill a whole planet.” He pondered. “I think if I were The Seven I'd go chemical or biological. Something like the Tulsa virus.” He gasped. “Maybe THAT's what Marxo was doing in Tulsa!”
“You don't seriously think...”
“Marxo was involved in some odd behavior. We know he wasn't doing his job in Scottsdale. His lab looked like it hadn't been tended in weeks. Then there was that cryptic message on his handheld -- pickup 1/15, deliver 1/18.”
“If that is what it meant.”
“There's an Altian connection. The message came from a locator code with an Altian prefix and was coded with an Altian street code.”
“Did you try getting an ID traceback on that locator code?”
“No -- how would I go about doing that?”
“Hmm ... good question. How WOULD you go about doing that?” Seymor stroked his chin. “If it were a Floran code, I could have one of my Internal Affairs contacts do the trace. Since it's Altian -- we'd need a contact within Altian Security. We'd need to go through channels -- up the ladder through the ExoService to some High Legislature subcommittee or other, then back down the other side. It could take months.”
“I wonder if Sirk could track it down,” Nyk replied.
“Who?”
“The Altian security captain who oversaw Dyppa's interrogation. I have his locator code. I'll send him a note...”
“Nyk... Without a stronger case, I'd advise against short-circuiting channels. Those upper-level bureaucrats don't take it kindly when someone starts pissing on their campfire.”
