Dark as Day

25

Jan felt that she had been fighting to protect Sebastian all her life. There had been a brief vacation, the magical couple of weeks with Paul Marr on the flight out from Earth; then the OSL Achilles made its swoop through the upper atmosphere of Jupiter, and suddenly Jan was back to her old job.

“Why did you do it, Sebastian?”

It was the hundredth or the thousandth time that she had asked the question — inside her head, where there was no chance of an answer. She didn’t expect more satisfying results now, but she didn’t know what else to do.

They were still on Ganymede, in a section just four levels below the moon’s outer surface. It was labeled as a quarantine and science research facility, but so far as Jan was concerned it was a prison for Sebastian. He was not allowed to leave. It was not clear that he would ever be allowed to leave.

Jan was housed separately. Paul had urged her to come with him, to have dinner together at The Belly of the Whale restaurant and then go sightseeing in the salt-ocean caverns of Ganymede. He pointed out that no one had criticized her behavior in any way, and until a decision was made as to whether or not to proceed to the Saturn weather station, she was free to do what she liked and wander wherever she pleased. He had a week and a half free before the Achilles left on its next run to the inner system. Why not spend the time together? They would have fun and get to know each other better.

She wanted to, but she couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. She explained that until she knew what was wrong with Sebastian and understood why he had tried to open the hatch, she would be unable to enjoy anything.

She thought that Paul might try to talk her out of that and was relieved when he didn’t. But she knew, although neither of them said it, that if she left now their affair was over.

When she had told him that she was heading over to the facility where Sebastian was being held, Paul sat silent for a moment. Then he took her hands in his. “I understand, Jan. Do what you have to do. But don’t forget that you are entitled to a life, too. You are too rare and precious to throw yourself away.”

Entitled to a life. Would she ever have one? She had left Paul at a run, hurrying away before he could offer a farewell kiss, before she could change her mind.

And now, with Sebastian, she could finally ask the question directly. “Why did you do it, Sebastian? Why were you trying to open the hatch?”

He stared at her, a dreamy expression on his round face. “I don’t know, Jan. I don’t remember. I suppose I wanted to see clouds.”

“But you could have seen those through any of the observation ports. If you had opened the hatch, you would have died. Others might have died, too.”

“I know. But Jan, I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

It was true. He had never knowingly hurt anyone, and never would. But the old fear consumed her. Sebastian had major problems, and onboard the Achilles they had come horribly close to being fatal.

“We have all the medical records here.” Valnia Bloom was sitting at Jan’s side. She looked more like an anorexic corpse than ever. “Dr. Christa Matloff, who did your testing at the Earth orbital facility, sent an entire duplicate set. Sebastian, we are going to repeat every one of the tests that were done there, plus a battery of others. Is that all right with you?”

“Of course.” He seemed surprised at the question. “Anything you want to do is all right.”

Valnia Bloom flashed a sideways glance at Jan. “The tests will be both physical and mental. They will not be painful, but they may take a long time.”

“I’ll stay.” Jan answered the unspoken question. To her relief, no one was asking about the wisdom of allowing her and Sebastian to leave Earth in the first place.

What was wrong with him? Was it related to the odd neurotransmitter functions within his brain? That was possible, but it might also have something to do with the tiny inorganic nodules that had been found in the white blood cells of his body. And did both of those peculiarities relate to Sebastian’s earliest days, when as small children they had each wandered alone among the wild teratomas and devastated landscape of Earth’s northern hemisphere?

To Jan’s surprise, Valnia Bloom reached out and patted her hand. “Have faith,” she said. “We will find out. Believe me, I have as much interest in resolving this as you or Sebastian.”

Dr. Bloom spoke with confidence, but after three days Jan’s Own faith faded. With nothing else to do, she haunted the lab where Sebastian was being tested. Valnia Bloom must have spoken to the technicians, because Jan was allowed to examine any of the results and records.

Most of those were brain traces and scans, highly complicated images that meant nothing to anyone except a specialist. The most tangible evidence of abnormality was the curious dark nodules within the body cells. Jan read a batch of reports. Although they were inorganic and had no apparent function, they were never excreted from the body. When the cell in which they lived died, the tiny spheres were somehow re-absorbed into the body and in due course took up residence in a new cell. Whoever wrote this particular report had suggested that the nodules might have been present in Sebastian’s body, unchanged in form and number, since childhood.

The report also asked, why had these anomalies not been discovered long ago? Jan could answer that. When she and Sebastian had been rescued and shipped to the displaced persons’ camp in Husvik, the inhabitants of battered Earth had other things on their minds; things like survival.

In addition to a chemical analysis, a few specimens of the anomalous bodies had been carefully sheared in two. Jan took one of the high-powered microscopes and peered at the cross-section of one nodule. It formed a perfect sphere, and the spherical nature continued right through the interior. Concentric shells of material glittering prismatically under the microscope’s strong illumination, flashing in different colors like tiny rings of gemstones.

Jan could not understand most of the technical comments on the specimens that she was examining, but in one of Valnia Bloom’s reports her concluding remarks had been unusually concise and direct: The structure of each nodule is identical, simple, and well-defined. They are spheres, penetrated radially by narrow apertures that run all the way to the center. The chemical composition has been analyzed and is known absolutely. The possible functions remain a mystery.

Jan had been staring so long and hard into the microscope that her vision began to blur. She raised her head, squeezed her eyes shut, and began to rub them vigorously.

She was still doing so when she felt a touch on her shoulder. She spun around, pulse suddenly racing, sure that it was Paul.

It was Valnia Bloom. The gaunt doctor saw Jan’s expression and shook- her head. “I’m sorry. Would you like me to go away?”

“No. It’s all right. I thought that you were — someone else.” Jan knew that her eyes must be bloodshot from the rubbing. “I’m all right,” she went on. “It’s just that I’ve spent too long staring into the microscope. At the little sphere things.”

“So have I. So have we all.” Valnia Bloom sat down uninvited next to Jan. “I didn’t mean to startle you, or interrupt what you were doing. But you and I need to talk.”

Jan’s heart raced again, with a different emotion. “Is Sebastian all right?”

“It depends what you mean by all right. Physically, he is fine — in better shape than either one of us. But I foresee problems.”

Today Valnia Bloom was wearing her tight blood-red head scarf, which emphasized her sharp cheekbones and the pallor of her complexion.

“While we’ve been busy in the lab here,” she went on, “the Jovian security staff have done a minute-by-minute reconstruction of what happened onboard the OSL Achilles during our Jupiter close approach and atmospheric fly-through.

“It’s pretty scary. They estimate that if Sebastian had been free to work on the third safety catch for ten more seconds — and they’ve seen no reason to believe that he was likely to stop — he would have had the hatch open. Normally, a hatch failure can’t destroy a whole ship. Bulkheads seal automatically when they sense a loss of pressure, and most of the hull remains airtight. But normally a ship is flying in vacuum. We were skimming through the upper levels of Jupiter’s atmosphere, and that is mainly hydrogen. The static charge on the Achilles would have set off a hydrogen-oxygen explosion, big enough to cause a hull fracture. After that the whole ship would have exploded and fallen to Jupiter’s deep layers. It’s doubtful that anyone up here would ever have known what happened. The Achilles would be gone too quickly for any kind of emergency signal.”

Jan knew that she had come close to death, but this was the first time she realized how near the whole ship had approached disaster. Dreading the answer, she asked, “Have they officially charged Sebastian?”

“They have not.” Valnia Bloom was biting color into her thin lips. “Nor will they. The official conclusion is that Sebastian cannot be charged with anything, because he is of diminished mental capacity and therefore not responsible for his actions.”

“He’s not! I mean, he’s not stupid. If they are saying he is retarded, that’s just not true.”

“I agree. Remember, I did the tests on both of you, back on Earth. At the same time, I find myself in an impossible position. I have been unable to explain to the investigating team why Sebastian apparently attempted suicide. Also, I have been obliged to tell them of the peculiarities of brain structure that were discovered by Dr. Christa Matloff, before you ever left Earth orbit.”

“They don’t mean anything. I’ve known Sebastian since we were small children. He thinks as well as anyone else, just differently from most people.”

“Differently, and in some ways better. His intuitive grasp of the behavior of complex hydrodynamic systems is astonishing. That intrigued me from the outset, and provided my original impetus to approve both your transfers to the Outer System. However, I still have a problem. There is another step that I would like to take with Sebastian, one which he has agreed to. Actually, he seems indifferent to the whole thing, which is worrying.”

“He’s like that. He doesn’t get excited.”

“Apparently not. However, in view of the official conclusion that he is not responsible for his own actions, I cannot proceed with anything based on his assent alone, or on my own feeling that it may benefit him. You are regarded by everyone as the person closest to him.”

“I am. I always have been.”

“So it was agreed that I should ask your permission.”

“To do what?”

Valnia Bloom gestured toward the microscope. “You have examined the small inorganic spheres scattered within Sebastian’s body?”

“I was looking at them when you came in. I also read your report. I don’t know what they are — but neither do you.”

“More accurately, we know exactly what they an, but we have no idea what they do. However, because they remain chemically inert they play no part in his general body metabolism. I would like to explore the possibility of sluicing him.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, it’s the usual medical term. I would like you to consider removing these mysterious nodules from his body entirely. Every last one of them.”

“But why, if they’re not doing any harm?”

“I’m not sure that’s true. What I said was, they don’t play a part in his general metabolism. But the brain is a delicate organ, and its operation depends on tiny electric currents within it. The nodules are present there, too, and they certainly possess electrical and magnetic properties.”

“Do you think they are the reason why Sebastian’s neurological tests are unusual?”

“I would not make so strong a statement. What I will say is that breakdown and removal of the nodules — assuming that it can be done — removes one possible source of variability. I see no way that it can harm Sebastian, and it may help him.”

It sounded good, but Jan had learned to be wary. Too many times, in the past, people had suggested “treatments” for Sebastian to “make him more normal.” Some had been performed, over Jan’s protests. Not one had made a scrap of difference.

“How would you do this, and how long would it take?”

“I can answer your first question, but not your second. Breaking down the nodules within his body in order to remove them will be a delicate operation. We will have to inject a set of bespoke nanos into him. They will be designed to find the nodules, encapsulate each one, and break it down. Then the nanos will transfer each capsule through the cell wall, into the blood stream, and to the kidneys.”

“Would that be safe?”

“Completely. Since each of the enclosing capsules is tiny and chemically inert at body temperatures, Sebastian will simply excrete them — pee them out.”

“How long will it take?”

“That’s the part I can’t answer yet. First, we need a set of tailor-made nanos, designed for this specific task. Nothing quite like them exists, but I have already spoken to a top nano designer. Harold Launius believes that the task is comfortably within present capabilities. His best estimate is three or four weeks to design and test.”

“And while that is being done?”

“Sebastian will remain here. You will be free to come and go as you wish, and I will work with him and for him as much as possible.”

Valnia Bloom, for her own reasons, valued Sebastian’s health and sanity. Jan said, “If the tests go well, Dr. Bloom, what then?”

“Hal Launius will inject a batch of the bespoke nanos into Sebastian: The nanos will be self-replicating, and designed to cease operation after copying themselves a sufficient number of times. They will perform the task of encapsulating, breaking down, and excreting until every nodule has gone. At that point the nanos become non-functional, and will themselves be excreted by normal bodily functions. The whole thing, according to Launius, will take no more than a week from initial injection to final excretion. Naturally, we will perform final scans and biopsies, to make sure that the nodules are indeed all gone. Then we will again perform the entire suite of brain scans and tests, hoping that this time the results prove to be more like those of other people.”

Jan still didn’t like the idea of injecting foreign bodies into Sebastian, and allowing them to run riot through his body. “What about Fishel’s Law? How smart would these nanos be?”

“Not smart at all. You don’t need to worry about them getting out of control. They will be designed for a single function, and they will be unable to perform any other.”

“Suppose that I don’t agree to go along with this? What other options do we have?”

Valnia Bloom avoided Jan’s eyes. “I was rather hoping that you would not ask me that question. But I can answer it. We have no real options. Unless something like full-body sluicing is done, and we are able to demonstrate its effectiveness, Jovian security will never permit Sebastian to go free. He will remain here or in some similar closed establishment, under guard, for the rest of his life.”

“Then I have no choice, do I? For Sebastian’s sake, I must permit you to go ahead.”

“Very good. Since this meeting is being recorded, there is no need for any other action on your part. However, I have one more thing to say. This pertains not to Sebastian’s welfare, but to your own.”

“Yes?” Jan was instantly wary. People only did things for you to further their own agendas.

“You have cared for Sebastian, by your own admission, since childhood. I’m sure that you meant well, but your actions have had an unfortunate side-effect. He has never developed the ability to make his own decisions.”

“No! You’ve got everything backwards. I cared for him because he couldn’t look after himself.”

“That’s what you believe. I remain unconvinced. Earlier, I said that while the nanos are being developed and tested, you would be free to come and go as you chose. I stick by that statement. However, I strongly urge you to stay away from Sebastian. Let us find out what he does without your constant guidance.”

Jan felt a surge of anger, strong and irrational. “You mean, let’s find out what Sebastian does with your constant guidance. You think he’s yours now — you have, ever since we left Earth.”

The color that came to Valnia Bloom’s cheeks transformed her to a vulnerable human. “I think of him as a research subject.” Her voice shook, and she stood up. “Sebastian Birch is no more to me than that, nor has he ever been. I’m afraid that I cannot say the same for you. Sebastian Birch is your obsession. Let me offer a suggestion: get a life! It’s very clear that at the moment you do not have one.”

She was gone before Jan could reply. After a few moments Jan realized that she in any case had nothing to say. The other woman’s get a life merely restated Paul’s comment. Don’t forget that you are entitled to a life, too.

Jan stared at the microscope, and at the baffling array of brain scans and reports on the table next to it. She should not be here in the lab at all. She was not qualified to be here. Her presence had been tolerated, sure — but everyone knew she had nothing to contribute. She was no scientist or medical specialist. Any treatment she proposed for Sebastian would be as likely to kill him as cure him.

She stood up. What was the name of the restaurant that Paul had mentioned? The Belly of the Whale. Almost certainly, it was already too late. There was only a tiny chance that she would find him there. But she didn’t have to find him there. He was still on Ganymede. Someone on the Achilles would be able to tell her how to find him.

And then?

And then Jan was going to make a fool of herself. Maybe that’s what getting a life was all about.