“Carpe diem?”
A dark-clad waiter materialized. This, the Houston Club, was the apex of the arcology that crowned the city. The club was the jewel in the crown and the haunt of the rich and powerful, and fraught with unwritten rules. One rule was that everyone in the party must order a drink. Another and slightly more cryptic rule was that the drink must be something classic. In mid-twenty-first-century America, wealth and power donned the trappings of earlier ages. Ev ordered two Old Fashioneds, and thus obeyed that rule with conscious irony. With a satisfied twitch of expression, the waiter glided away.
“There are more important things to do than curl up and wait for the trip,” Ev told Miraly.
“Such as?”
“Mark is supplying seeds to the Genesis Foundation for the terraforming project. And I’m working hard, and learning all I can, at Pennington Genetech. We may need new organisms in the new world. Organisms that somebody like me can tailor from normal species.”
The waiter returned with the drinks. Ev sipped his. It was perfect, a fine balance of the bitter and sweet and citrus on the base of alcohol. He waved his glass in a circle meant to include the ambiance, the view, and Miraly. “In the meantime—carpe diem ”
Her lips on her glass curled in amusement. “I absolutely cannot imagine you on a frontier world.”
“Oh?”
She made a circular wave to imitate his. “I know a fish in its water when I see one.”
“I grew up on Titan. Dad’s an executive with the Lunar Mining Company, trans-Martian division.” Ev was gratified to see her react with surprise. “Frontier worlds are nothing new for me.”
“Well, well. You don’t seem nearly hardscrabble enough to be an out-planeter.”
“The company pays Dad handsomely. While I was growing up, we vacationed on Mars, Luna, and Earth, first class all the way. I also spent five years at an exclusive boarding school in Europe.”
“Thus the polish,” she mused. “But you, digging in the dirt to make tomatoes grow on a colony world? I still don’t buy it.”
“When the ship finds a new world, the plan is to have it as an orbiting city while the world is terraformed,” Ev pointed out. “The first generations downside will live in domes. Only people like Mark will be digging in the dirt ”
“He sounds sweet.”
From her tone, Ev realized that he must have described Mark in terms that appealed to Miraly. Did that mean she would prefer a man like Mark to one like Ev? No, not necessarily: maybe she liked lost kittens and sadeyed puppies. And maybe she would accept an invitation to go home with Ev just a bit more readily if it involved the occasion to meet and sympathize with sweet Mark. Ev filed the thought in the back of his mind. “He’s not cut out for modern life. Doesn’t quite realize that Earth is like one of those plants of his. Goes to seed and dies.” “Is it that easy to for you think of Earth dying?”
There was a barb in her words. The black-haired rose had a few thorns, Ev thought, intrigued. “Have you observed Earth from space?” he countered. “What with the smog and desertification visible from orbit during the day, and huge splotches of urban light on the night side, it’s obvious that Earth is going to seed.”
“But it’s not natural for Earth to die, like it would be for one of Mark’s plants. It’s things like pollution, war, overpopulation, politics.”
Ev sighed. “I won’t argue that. Pennington reeks with the kind of politics that promote the unfettered exploitation of resources, environment or sustainability be damned. Genetic resources are the big issue—and cash cow—-at Pennington, but the top dogs support the politics that keep the outplanet colonies dependent and feeding Earth minerals and helium-three for industry. I have not breathed a word about my future plans around Pennington. If the corporate climate is one that doesn’t favor independent Solar System colonies, it abhors the idea of a starship that leaves and sends nothing back ”
There was a Netnode on table, discreetly metal-toned so as to blend in with the general decor. Miraly activated it. The miniature computer terminal had a small, jewel-like screen and audio muted so as not to disturb other guests here. Ev could barely hear the locator beeps and buzzes as Miraly pulled up a map of the world.
More eager to watch her than the little screen, Ev admired the graceful lines of her body draped by the blue blouse. Tapping the screen with a fingernail, she linked to a region in Brazil, then a medical update indicated by a caduceus icon. A window in the screen showed a ball-and-stick sketch which Ev recognized as a virus of some kind. “This is a disease of cattle,” she said crisply. “Somehow a section of its DNA crossed into a human respiratory virus. The result is called KAV, and it’s infected hundreds of people in Amazonia.”
For the first time during the whole date, Ev remembered that she was a doctor and professor at the medical school in Galveston; her specialty was virology. He had met her at a genetics conference the week before.
She went on. “Pennington Genetech has invented an antivirus, and patented it. And is waiting for the World Health Organization to come up with hundreds of millions of dollars for it. Until then, Pennington won’t release the antiviral gene sequence to the public health authorities. The death toll stands at—” She fished for the figure, and displayed it. “One hundred fifty-two as of today. It will rise rapidly. But Pennington s chief executives seem to share the belief that seems all too common today—that the answer to overpopulation is disease. As if the suffering doesn’t matter.”
“I know.” Ev studied the screen and her intent face, harder-edged than it had been just minutes before. He said slowly, “Is this why you accepted a date with me?”
“Did you know there’s a joke in the medical community about researchers who work with Pennington? They are a specially genetically engineered strain of human being without the heart. I wanted to find out if you were a typical Pennington clone. And you aren’t.”
“Glad to hear that,” Ev murmured.
“Who do you know at Pennington?”
“Not top people who could spring the virus sequence,” Ev answered, suddenly impatient. “Does this mean you won’t see me again?”
Her wide, elegant lips turned in an ironic smile that surprised him. “No, as a matter of fact, I think I’d like to see more of you.”
Maybe the Old Fashioned was going to Ev’s head. But he knew eros to be as psychoactive for him as alcohol. Ideas were mixing in his brain, crossing over from one domain to another, dangerously recombinant. “I have an idea. The Genesis Foundation hinted at channels for under-the-table contributions to the gene library. The Foundation thinks the same kind of politics that Pennington exemplifies are going to weigh against free access to biological specimens for the starship. Therefore I’m playing with ways to make contributions from Pennington’s gene banks to the starship’s library—without Pennington’s knowledge. I think I could smuggle the virus sequence out. Probably within a week.”
Surprise and dismay flashed across Miraly’s features. She hastily put down the glass. “That would be faster than official deals ever could be—but it’s—I’m not asking for that. Are you sure you don’t know somebody who can make it happen above board?”
“Absolutely. I don’t,” Ev said soberly.
“But you could get into serious trouble.”
“If I do it for the ship, which I probably will, I’ll run the same risk.”
“It’s a game to you, isn’t it?” she said quietly. “Plotting to go to the stars, and if there’s a bit of opposition to outwit, so much the better. What will you do when it’s time to cash the chips and either leave forever or stay?”