“I can’t stay.”
“Go.”
Naomi stepped into the hallway, then turned back. “Whatever you decide—”
“I’ll let you know.”
The door closed.
Esther narrowed her eyes at the hidden door and considered the wrinkled old man behind it. Her host would have killed the doctor first, then called the chancellor.
But Tiberius wasn’t going anywhere, and for some reason Esther couldn’t explain, she needed to save Naomi. She pulled out the desk chair and sat with shoulders lowered and chin high. She hid her shaking hands under the desk.
“Computer, record a statement.”
“Of course, Admiral.”
“Great news, people of Terra Twelve! The treaty is signed, the antivirus is ours.” Esther allowed a smile. “In just a few hours, your labs will have all they need to replicate it and save us all. The doctors only asked for Mayapuri and, considering all they’ve given us, the chancellor agreed. Thanks be to our chancellor. Our families are finally safe.”
Esther stared ahead for three seconds.
“End transmission.”
The computer beeped. “What should I do with the statement?”
“Release fifty copies into the public database. News channels with low reliability ratings. Vary some of the words. Make the transmission low quality.”
That should spread the rumors quickly.
“Done.”
“Now, erase your memory of this conversation.”
“Done.”
It didn’t take a minute for a call to come in from the chancellor. She appeared floating above Esther’s desk, her white hair pulled back in a soft bun, and her aged face sad. She had that look that said, Just tell me what the problem is, and I’ll make it all better. Her comforting façade won elections by landslide victories.
For Esther’s host, the chancellor’s approval felt like her grandmother’s ginger cookies. No wonder she followed the chancellor’s orders, even if it meant death for others.
“Esther, what have you done?” the chancellor asked with heavy disappointment.
“I refused the treaty, as ordered.”
The chancellor turned to something on her side. “Not according to the news.”
“News?”
The chancellor’s eyes hardened. The look of a predator crossed her face, then vanished in a flash. A young officer stumbled into the holograph and bowed. Judging from his insignia, he handled public affairs.
“Your Excellency.”
He showed her the announcement going out. Her lips pinched.
“I saw.”
But the chancellor’s face flushed underneath her makeup, lava welling up under the surface.
“I am not surrendering Mayapuri. Retract your announcement.”
“Umm . . .” The officer twitched.
“Yes?”
“Crowds will riot when they learn we don’t have the antivirus. Especially if they find out it was your decision.”
The chancellor refocused on Esther’s face, reading her, dissecting her. Esther mirrored the feeling of fury and betrayal the chancellor was expressing. If anyone could see her as the imposter she was, it was the chancellor.
“I will track down who sent this,” Esther said. “They will pay.”
She imagined killing the assassin who had infected her. It gave her voice that extra edge it needed.
“It’s too late for that,” the chancellor said.
She dismissed the officer with a wave, and he bolted out of the transmission like a rabbit escaping a wolf.
“Hundreds of thousands of lives have been lost to wars over Mayapuri, and this virus finally brought an end to those. As soon as the public forgets the virus—and it will—the wars begin again.”
“Your approval ratings will be untouchable after getting the antivirus,” Esther said. “Use your popularity to negotiate trade with Mayapuri in your favor.”
“Hmm,” the chancellor said it like she was tasting a strange new food. “I could. Many laws could be swayed with high public favor.”
She leaned back and considered Esther’s proposal for a minute and then another. Occasionally her eyes cut back to Esther, studying her. Esther kept her eyes downcast and waited. Finally the chancellor broke the silence.
“Congratulations on signing the treaty, Admiral.”
The chancellor’s smile softened. She ended the transmission, and Esther made a mental note to retire as soon as her boots hit the epoxycrete back on Terraform XII.
She spun her chair to face the hospital door.
“Doctor!”
It took several seconds. Esther could almost see him limping along. The hidden door opened, and the doctor stood silhouetted. Esther left her desk, and Tiberius shuffled to it.
“That was longer than I expected,” he said. “You normally dismiss your daughter quickly.”
Esther drew her plasma handgun and pointed it at the doctor. It shook violently.
“What?” He stumbled back. “Tying up loose ends, are we? Is Webb next?”
“You left extra nanobots inside me. Clever making them imitate the virus symptoms.”
“I?” The doctor startled. “Why would I destroy you? You’re my greatest success yet! All the clones I’ve created in the past rejected their host’s memories.” Tiberius’s eyes glazed over. “The mind. It’s trickier than I expected.”
He said that last part to himself, not Esther. His eyes refocused and stared down the barrel back at her.
“You have nanobots in you?”
“You tell me.”
“But I scanned you myself. I should have found them. Unless . . .”
He held his finger to his lips. Esther lowered her weapon, but he didn’t notice. His eyes flicked back and forth like he was playing a game of chess.
“Unless they were programmed to hide. Makes sense. They were programmed to imitate the virus symptoms. Why not program them to hide from scanners as well?”
“Where could they hide from scanners?”
Tiberius swiped his hand in Esther’s direction like the answer was a waste of his time.
“Your socks if they’re sweaty enough. Well, what are we waiting for?”
He shooed her to where the scanner lay hidden under the floor. Her host would have been insulted. Esther followed his directions without a fuss. He ran his fingers along the edge of the desk, and his controls lit up. The scanner rose from the floor, and she stood on it again. His fingers whipped across the lights.
“You were right,” he said.
A flash of light, and her hands stopped shaking. Tiberius leaned back, and his body fell limp.
“But how did someone get assassin bots back in you? I killed them. Every last one.”
“Fletcher tried to slap me. I blocked him.”
“That could do it,” Tiberius said. “If there was skin contact. But then he would have nanobots that remained in his system. They would kill him too.”
“Computer?” Esther said to the ceiling.
“Yes, Admiral,” the computer’s alto voice answered.
“Where is Fletcher, and is he healthy?”
“Captain Jack Fletcher is sitting in his room, telling a picture that he will ‘Fix this, I promise.’ His blood pressure is high, but all other vital signs are normal.”
Esther cocked her head at Tiberius. So much for that theory. He clucked his tongue.
“Fletcher could have killed his nanobots as soon as he left you.”
That explained it.
“Computer,” Esther said. “Lock Fletcher in his quarters and call Webb to come here.”
“Lieutenant Commander Brandon Webb is sick, Admiral,” the computer answered.
Esther and Tiberius locked eyes. She could tell from his face, they had the same thought.
“What are his symptoms?” Esther asked.