The Dark Between The Stars

TWENTY-SIX
ZOE ALAKIS

On Pergamus, Zoe Alakis waited for Tom Rom to return with new findings. She looked forward to seeing him, hearing about his new discoveries, and studying the samples he brought for her. He never let her down.

Other people longed to visit strange worlds, but Zoe was terrified by the idea of exposing herself to all that. She was no coward, but she was no fool either. Every planet was full of insidious, invisible organisms ready to compromise biological systems. Compromise biological systems: a fancy scientific way of saying “Kill any human who allowed herself to be vulnerable.”

Tom Rom took enormous risks for her—he always had—and he knew how much Zoe appreciated his efforts, his sacrifices. Thanks to him, as well as her dedicated scientific teams and her spare-no-expense research facilities, Zoe possessed a vast library of cures and treatments, and an even larger library of diseases. It was her arsenal against the worst imaginable situation.

Her central dome on the planet’s surface contained everything she needed. It was home to her. It was safe, and she never intended to leave. The filtered air inside her dome was cool and smelled metallic from the disinfectants. She needed no scents to brighten her quarters. The wallscreen continued to sort news reports, interviews, articles, and research papers.

While she waited for Tom Rom, she had programs to administer and results to assess. Zoe ate a bland breakfast porridge of autoclaved grains and devoted her morning to reading the project summaries from her Pergamus teams.

Two of the surface domes were biological sweatshops where a hundred diligent but unimaginative data specialists crunched through genetic maps of countless microorganisms to be stored in her ever-growing database. The vast majority of those microorganisms would never be looked at, would never prove useful, but at least Zoe had them. Someday, she would allow the information to be shared among other researchers, but not now. They didn’t deserve it; no one deserved it. For the time being, that treasure vault was hers alone.

Most of the project reports showed continuing work, but little progress. Even with generous funding and the best equipment, breakthroughs were rare. But today’s report submitted by Dr. Hannig from Orbiting Research Sphere 12 was flagged as important, so Zoe contacted him via screen. She never met personally with any researcher. While her teams operated under the strictest sterilization and decontamination protocols, she still had qualms about their proximity to the dangerous diseases.

She didn’t need to refresh her memory about his work; she kept track of exactly which diseases each team was studying. In his weightless research sphere, Hannig and his four associates worked in a sterile facility lit by white lights. The lead researcher drifted into the screen’s frame. He was a round-faced man with bristly white hair and close-set eyes. He had gained weight, or at least curves, from his recent six months in zero-G.

“Ms. Alakis, we’ve made progress in curing Tamborr’s Dementia. Our models show that we can develop a phage through auto-cloning techniques. This stops the deterioration of the neural systems in the brain and might even begin to restore the biochemical channels.”

Zoe brightened. Every time one of her researchers found a cure, she felt as if she had acquired another weapon in her arsenal for the never-ending war. “I’m pleased to hear that, Dr. Hannig.”

The man kept smiling and nodding, as if he could feel her pat him on the back, even from orbit. “It’s an innovative approach, and we wouldn’t have thought about it without access to your previous work on Heidegger’s Syndrome. It gave us the key we needed.”

“Now you see why all the research is interconnected, why I need to have everything.”

“Tamborr’s Dementia is not common, but this breakthrough could help many people,” Hannig said. “Even the methodology would give other teams the possibility of—”

She cut him off. “My terms are not negotiable, Dr. Hannig. You read your contract, you know the conditions, and you understand the penalties. My funding, my research teams—my cure.”

He looked hurt, which soured her joy in his breakthrough. She hated it when her scientists acted like this. Zoe had not founded Pergamus because she wanted to be a humanitarian. She’d always taken care of herself, and she kept the cures for her own use, exclusively. After her death, the library could be opened to others, but until then she kept tight control. If anyone disobeyed her orders, Tom Rom would hunt them down and retrieve the information. And she knew he would do it. Yes, she could count on him…

Tom Rom had come to Vaconda when Zoe was eleven, three years after her mother died in the crash. He arrived with a group of interns, but he wasn’t one of them. He came to Vaconda because he wanted to be there, but he remained secretive about his background. When Zoe asked where he came from, he answered, “Everywhere.” He tapped his forehead. “Home is here. I carry it with me wherever I go.”

For months, young Zoe tried to get him to talk, pestered him to tell her about his past, places he had seen, but he remained stony. “Those are my stories. You have to create your own.”

Over the years, other interns came and went, while Tom Rom made himself indispensable. He taught Zoe much survival craft, taking her into the lichentree jungles and along the forest floor. When she asked where he had learned so much, he said, “I continue to learn, step by step—it’s common sense, past experiences, and reactions. I’m learning about Vaconda at the same time you are.”

The other helpers left, but Tom Rom performed their duties and more. He did everything Adam Alakis asked him, helped maintain the forest watchtower, repaired systems that failed, built additions to their tower, installed research traps on the forest floor. Whenever they needed supplies, he flew off to other Hansa worlds. He watched the weather, sniffed the air, listened to the jungle in ways that no sensor devices could record.

Once, he woke Zoe and Adam at dawn, wearing an alarmed expression on his normally placid face. “We don’t have much time,” he said. “Help me.” Together, the three of them scrambled to string emergency netting all around the tower balconies. Tom Rom rigged it to their generator and electrified the mesh just before a swarm of hummers scoured through like a storm cloud across the lichentree tops.

Zoe remembered that long, buzzing, frightening afternoon. When a midlevel door cracked open, part of the voracious swarm swept into the access shaft and the living quarters where Zoe and her father had taken shelter. Tom Rom rushed in, flinging hummers away from his face, diving toward the two. Adam demanded that Tom Rom take Zoe to safety as he battered at the hungry insects, and that was what Tom Rom did, dragging her away even as she screamed for her father. Tom Rom wouldn’t listen to her. He threw her in a closet, sealed the door, and waded back through the swarm to rescue Adam as well. Afterward, he accepted disinfectant salve on the numerous bites that pocked his skin, but insisted he did not need any painkillers. Zoe asked him if he even felt pain, but he didn’t answer her.

When Zoe was fifteen, her father came down with a severe jungle fever, suffered for a long time, recovered after taking massive doses of the most potent medicines they had developed on Vaconda, but afterward he seemed weakened, wrung-out, deflated. Adam Alakis grew weaker over the next year, long after he should have recovered from the fever.

They finally went offworld to a medical center on Khandul, where Adam was diagnosed with a rare autoimmune disorder known as Heidegger’s Syndrome. There was no cure, and the degeneration would be gradual, but inexorable.

Afterward, Adam went back to Vaconda for the long, slow process of dying that would take the next four years. Zoe was appalled, unable to believe that a tiny virus had such power. She never wanted to feel so helpless again…

Now, as Dr. Hannig and his research associates faced her on the screen, Zoe called up her accounts, studied the other work his team had done on ORS 12, Hannig’s specialties, his particular interests, even his family history. Her smile was cool but sincere. “Your work on Tamborr’s Dementia is a remarkable achievement, Doctor. I can’t thank you enough. As before, I am pleased to offer you and your team an extravagant financial reward for work well done. Success is its own payment, but I’ll pay you enough to leave Pergamus if you wish, retire on any planet—on the condition that all research stays here, all records are wiped, and you never reveal what you did for me.” She paused only briefly, then continued, “On the other hand, if you choose to continue working for me, you will have your pick of programs, the best facilities. I’ll refit ORS Twelve with whatever equipment you desire.”

She waited. Some research teams accepted the payoff and left, but most were dedicated for their own reasons, even with her draconian rules. She selected her employees not just for their genius, but for their lack of outside connections. They liked to be turned loose on a medical playground.

Hannig glanced at his associates, but they had obviously discussed the matter beforehand. “There’s still too much to be explored, Ms. Alakis. Bank the bonuses in our accounts, and we’ll discuss which line of investigation to pursue next.”

Zoe was not surprised. “Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate your drive, as always. You and your team are shining examples of human ingenuity. Work on whatever you like, so long as it has a chance of being useful, and the cures are mine to develop and keep.”

After signing off, she skimmed through spinoff research proposals from her scientific teams, then approved the funds for every single one. Why take chances?

Tom Rom could always procure more prisdiamonds if she needed the money.