Dangerous Evolution Read online

  “Excellent, Captain. Now where were we…ah yes, the Sentients.”

  “There isn’t much to tell I’m afraid. They contacted Val about six months ago to arrange a meeting.”

  “And she didn’t think to inform Sector Security?” I said incredulously.

  She bristled, as if personally insulted. “Absolutely not! They made that a prerequisite for any meeting.” She lowered her voice. “You have to understand, Commander; my sister is the preeminent geneticist in the galaxy, and the Sentients are the genetic mystery left unsolved. She couldn’t say no.”

  I shook my head, they were a mystery alright—a deadly one. “Then what happened?”

  “She met them. Right here in the dome! I don’t mind telling you that when their ship entered orbit I wasn’t happy. I was terrified in fact. But Val just kept telling me how terribly important it was to help them.”

  “Help them? Help them what?” I asked.

  “I can’t say. She wouldn’t tell anyone. She locked herself in her lab—just the three of them. It was strange to say the least. I can tell you that every one of our fifty odd staff were terrified. Some even considered leaving.”

  “I bet,” I said, picking at my food. I noticed that Stinson was devouring his share, but paying close attention to the exchange.

  “They know how we feel about them,” Breth said. “They came in a very small ship, and keep their distance from everyone. They have done everything Val has asked them to do without question. We’ve managed to adapt to their presence, Commander, but to say we are comfortable might be an overstatement.”

  “Do you think their work together has anything to do with your sister’s disappearance?”

  “Possibly, but how can we find out.” She paused and looked at me somberly. “Do you think she is still alive, Commander?”

  “Undoubtedly. If they wanted to kill her, she would have been left in the ship with the pilot.”

  “That makes sense I suppose. You will find her won’t you?” Stinson looked over at me, wondering at my response, curious to see just how much I would promise.

  “We will do our best,” I assured her.

  We ate in silence for a few minutes, then Lesa asked, “Is that a wedding ring on your finger, Commander Malik?”

  Breth looked up from her plate. “It is,” I answered, “my wife was killed at El Ferras.”

  Stinson looked at my face in awe, but Breth spoke first. “You were at El Ferras?”

  “I’m from El Ferras.”

  “I’m…I’m sorry, Commander. I didn’t know that. Um, just how old are you?” she asked.

  “As old as you and your sister I imagine. Ferran Commandos were some of the first recipients of Permalife. At the time, of course, we were taking it for its healing abilities; none of us expected to survive to thirty, much less live forever.”

  “You were a Ferran Commando…and survived the siege? Amazing,” Stinson said.

  “Barely survived is more like it, but here I am nonetheless.”

  “But you still wear the ring,” Lesa said, bringing the conversation back around to her initial question.

  “Yes,” I said

  “Ever since my aunt developed Permalife, marriage has become viewed as a quaint old custom. ‘Till death do us part’ has taken on a new meaning now that people don’t die. Marriage as an institution is practically dead, Commander. Why still wear the ring?”

  I looked down at the simple gold band on my finger, remembering my wife—the life we had, and the children we never would. “I just do,” I replied.

  As if privy to my thoughts, Lesa asked, “Do you have any children?”

  “No. At that time, we didn’t know the treatment caused sterility. In fact, I’m not even sure Miss Evans had finished her testing yet. Things were pretty desperate back then.”

  Speaking of which. “Miss Evans, how is it that you have a daughter when you and I are both from the same era?”

  “Ah,” she smiled. “I can thank my sister for Lesa. Val harvested some of my eggs for her incessant experimentation, and when I decided I wanted a child, she surprised me with Lesa. That was eighty six years ago. Now its standard practice for a woman to preserve her eggs before undergoing the anti-aging treatment, but in those days, no one thought to do it. Val gave me a second chance.”

  It was a chance Natasha and I never got… Enough reliving the past; there’s no time I’d like to forget more than that damned war.

  “We should be on our way,” I said, sliding my chair back from the table. “Where is Val’s laboratory?”

  “Oh it’s right outside,” Breth replied. “It’s the building with the airlock. She keeps everything of importance in there, including her personal console. We searched it immediately, as soon as we heard about…well it’s still unlocked.”

  “Her personal console is in the lab? Not in her office or bedroom?” I asked.

  “Commander, my sister has banished all electronics from her wing of the house. When she is here, she is….offline as it were. Besides her incessant gardening, she says it’s the only way she can relax.”

  “She is responsible for the flowers?”

  “Oh it’s almost as big an obsession as her work, Commander. Anything she can do by herself and avoid people I suppose. In all though, the garden is very beautiful.”

  “It is indeed.” I held out my palm, and Breath rose from her chair, producing her own. “Thank you for your hospitality, Miss Evans.”

  “Please, call me Breth,” she said.

  “Breth,” I conceded. “We’re going to the lab to check Val’s communications logs, and anything else we might find, then we’ll be leaving for Harrakan.”

  Stinson stood as well. “Thank you for dinner, Miss Evans.”

  “Breth, please, and do contact me as soon as you find out anything.”

  “We will,” I promised.

  “Thank you, Commander. Lesa, please show them to the lab.”

  “Yes, mother.”

  *****

  “Marriage isn’t all that’s suffered,” Lesa said, walking across the grass to the lab’s entrance. “People are killing themselves as well, Commander.”

  Unfortunately, she was right—suicide had been on the rise for the past forty years. Some people simply had enough of life and didn’t want to live forever; others adopted various religions, most offering different versions of eternal life—but all of them universal in requiring a person to die first.

  “I know,” I replied. “I’ve had to investigate a few high profile deaths to make sure they weren’t homicides.”

  “My aunt was working on an antigen to Permalife. Did you know that?” she asked.

  “No. I didn’t. Why?”

  “She saw the suffering, Commander; she wanted to give people a choice—the ability to start aging again if they wished. She was even trying to fix the sterility.”

  “That is interesting. How far along was she?”

  “As far as I could tell, she was almost done—with the aging problem anyway. The infertility issue was much more difficult to fix I gathered.” Her face brightened. “Imagine it, Commander, death would give meaning back to life; marriage, children, death, then eternal life—just as god intended.”

  Her faith was almost palpable. “But my aunt isn’t religious; she doesn’t care about any of that; she just wants to keep people from killing themselves, to give them some control back over their lives.”

  We arrived at the entrance and Lesa pulled out an electronic key to unlock the door. “No one would ever come in here without permission, but Aunt Val is always worried about someone messing with her experiments.” The door swung open and the three of us walked in, descending a set of stairs that led to a wide open area stuffed with equipment.

  The lab was exactly what I had envisioned; large electronic displays with formulae and calculations I didn’t recognize, small machines for housing, sifting, and manipulating biological samples, and unexpectedly, potted plants interspersed throughout the space�
�each with its own makeshift light above it.

  I found Val’s terminal, still unlocked just as described. I downloaded everything into my pad while Stinson and Lesa looked around the room. When the sync was complete, I promptly sent a copy off to Sector Security via broadlink. Let some much smarter people than me analyze it, I thought. I would look at it all en route to Harrakan, but there was certain to be things in those files far beyond my understanding.

  “Find anything interesting?” I called out to Stinson.

  “Yes. But nothing useful,” he replied. “This is a veritable factory.”

  “It is a factory, of sorts,” Lesa said. “Most production occurs at Aunt Val’s outside laboratories, but she can batch manufacture things here as well. Not at such a large scale of course.”

  “If there’s nothing else we can learn here, let’s get to the hangar,” I said. “We will leave you to lock up, Lesa, I know the way…and thanks for your help.”

  “You’re welcome, Commander, Captain.” She moved to the control panel to shut off the lights as the two of us headed back up the steps.

  I began reviewing Val’s personal files as Stinson and I walked to the hangar, noticing immediately that one folder in particular was crypto-sealed. The amount of complex coding screamed: Do not access! I set my pad to auto decrypt—to virtually pry it open if possible.

  While the pad worked its magic, I went through Val’s correspondence. Unfortunately, nothing stood out. There was no trace of the exchanges between the Sentients and Miss Evans. In fact, the blank spots in her normal communications pointed to purposeful deletions, apparently by her own hand. I closed the pad in frustration as we rounded the corner to the shuttle hangar.

  There was a loud commotion ahead.

  “No! Stop! I’m not going to tell you again…STOP OR I’LL FIRE!” It was Sergeant Tanaka’s voice.

  Uh…oh… We started running toward the screaming.

  We found four of Stinson’s security detail, pointing their guns at…oh hell—one of the Sentients. It was just standing there, but there was genuine menace in its bearing.

  “Enough!” I barked, and they all turned to look at me, including the Sentient.

  “Commander Malik,” Tanaka said,” this ma…perso….this thing attempted to board the ship.”

  The possibility of a war, starting right here in this hangar, flashed before my eyes.

  “Stand down, Sergeant.” I was closer to the Sentient now, and could feel an electrical energy in the air. I could also see tiny sparks moving quickly across its body, as if they were building into something larger.

  Tanaka look confused. “NOW! I said!” He lowered his weapon to his side—the others did as well.

  I walked up to the alien and calmly asked, “What can I do for you…?”

  Which one was it?

  “Del,” it said.

  “Del. Thank you, yes. What’s going on?”

  “I will accompany you to Harrakan Station,” it replied matter-of-factly.

  “What…why?” I was caught off guard by the frank statement. “It would be chaos if you were exposed to the general public; there would be a total panic.”

  “I have already established my ability to assist in your investigation. You wouldn’t have even known about Harrakan without my help.”

  “I already knew about Harrakan, but your information about the energy signal was welcome. But why do you need me and my ship?”

  If a biomechanical being could sigh, I think I witnessed it. “As you point out, Commander, I cannot function unnoticed in a human environment. You can. This approach is expedient and mutually beneficial.”

  “Maybe, but I can’t have someone…um…let’s just say operating unilaterally. It would impede my investigation, and possibly damage my attempt to find Miss Evans.”

  The flickers of light slowed, receding back into the Sentient’s body. The static energy in the air diminished greatly in response.

  “I understand, Commander. I will place myself at your disposal for the duration of the trip. I will follow your directions—if you will follow my advice.”

  Was it serious?

  “How do I know you’ll do as I say?”

  And how will I control you if you don’t?

  His mechanical eyes extended slightly, focusing in on my face. “You have my word, Commander. Is there no trust in your culture?”

  “There is, but it’s usually earned, not given. You will do as I tell you, without question or dissent?”

  “Yes. But any orders contrary to my mission will be ignored. This should not affect appropriate instructions. Woz will remain here with our ship in case Val Evans returns.”

  “Alright,” I said. “I can see some possible benefits to bringing you along.”

  A lasting thaw in Human-Sentient relations being chief among them.

  Stinson and his security force stared at me; each face carrying the exact same question: Have you lost your mind?

  Enjoying their discomfort more than I probably should have, I asked the Sentient, “Can you shed any further light on your work with Miss Evans?”

  “No,” it stated flatly.

  Well, it was worth a shot.

  Chapter Three

  Considering the unusual composition of our group, the Transit to Harrakan Station was remarkably uneventful.

  Ensign Mendoza spent her time dissecting the blackout unit, trying to glean any additional information from it. She was powered by the exuberance of youth and her new found importance within the hierarchy of the Babylon. I was confident that she’d figure out how the device was installed on Evan’s ship, and maybe even how it’d made it past the station inspector—a bribe being the most likely explanation for the latter.

  Del sequestered itself in empty crew quarters near the front of the ship, speaking to no one. Captain Stinson and I made ourselves at home on the bridge; he was reviewing real-time video of the ongoing interrogations on Evan’s Moon, while I continued to sift through Val’s personal files.

  “Anything useful on the feed?” I asked.

  “Nothing yet. It seems like Miss Evans was keeping everything to herself.” He paused the image and the screen dimmed automatically. “But all of the staff agree; other than the increased secrecy, she was behaving normally. No signs of any duress.”

  He looked toward the back of the ship and lowered his voice. “They also say that the Sentients never acted threatening, and if anything, were deferential to Miss Evans.”

  I lowered my voice to match his, wondering how well developed Sentient hearing was—not knowing if they augmented it like they did their vision. “Now that is interesting,” I said.

  “Very,” he agreed. “Apparently, the Sentients came and went frequently; the staff got the impression that Miss Evans was sending them off to gather materials.”

  “Materials? Do we know what type of stuff they brought back to the dome?”

  “Unfortunately, no. The containers were always cryo-sealed. She made them pass whatever it was through bio-screening, to make sure it wasn’t dangerous, then she deleted the records herself. The staff only knew that they were biological samples of some sort.”

  “Asking the Sentients about it directly would be pointless,” I said. “We’ll have to find out about their project on our own.”

  I blew out my breath in frustration. “We still don’t even know if it’s related to the kidnapping.”

  “Indeed,” he said. “But that project is the only thing out of the ordinary in Evan’s life at the moment, and the mystery around it makes me very suspicious.”

  “Me too.” I pointed to the back of the ship. “Anything involving them should make you suspicious; keep your ship prepared for...complications.”

  “Already done.” He noted the consternation on my face. “No luck decrypting that locked file, huh?”

  “Not yet. As you might guess, my status gives me access to the best software and cryptographers in the Sectors. I sent it directly to Prima’s Cipher Division, bu
t I still haven’t heard back yet.”

  “I think I can comfortably say that Miss Evan’s intellect, influence, and wealth, probably give her the same capabilities as our Cipher Division,” Stinson said reluctantly.

  “You’re probably right,” I shrugged, folding up my pad and putting it back in the holster. I started rubbing my eyes.

  “Have you brought the other Special Inquisitors in on this, or are you on your own?”

  “On my own for now; the other six have their own responsibilities at the moment, but if this degenerates into something more serious, specifically involving the Sentients, I won’t hesitate to call them in. They’ve all received a mission brief.”

  Each inquisitor had confirmed receipt of my interim report within minutes of the transmission. We rarely updated each other on individual cases—unless they involved a particular hazard or concern in an inquisitor’s Sector—but this case involved us all, and it was incumbent on me to keep every Sector updated.

  “How exactly does it all work?” Stinson asked. “With the Special Inquisitors, I mean, if you don’t mind telling me.”

  “Not at all,” I said. I could use a break from the confusing scientific minutia filling Evan’s files.

  “You probably know more than you think, just from the history of the Sectors. For example, you know that each is an independent entity, governed by a Regent and Advisory Council, and that every Sector has its own military, sworn to defend and police their area of space. Since the formation of the Sectors after the Diaspora War, each has pursued their own individual agenda—with an informal agreement among them not to interfere with one another.”

  “That worked out well enough, until the Sentients were discovered anyway,” Stinson said.

  “Exactly,” I replied, shaking my head. “Rand Sector’s disastrous attempt at showing the Sentients how tough we were, demonstrated to the individual Sectors the need for a communal arrangement to defend ourselves from the Sentient threat. All the petty differences that ripped apart our homogenous spread across the stars—the ones that lead to the Diaspora War in the first place—paled in comparison to the threat of a true human genocide.”

  “Hence the formation of the Inter-Sector Cooperative Defense,” Stinson finished. “But how does that explain the inquisitors? Mutual defense is one thing, but designating an individual operative in each Sector that is essentially above the law is…well it seems reckless.”