Grant suddenly remembered, “They killed Irene Pascal, didn’t they?”
Wo’s expression hardened. “Dr. Pascal’s death was an accident. An inadvertent suicide.”
“No,” said Grant.
“Yes,” Wo insisted. “She took an overly large dose of amphetamines, which led to her death in the high-pressure environment aboard Zheng He. ”
“Irene didn’t take the drugs knowingly,” Grant said.
“A board of inquiry has examined the incident. They have made their decision. The case is closed.”
“It wasn’t an incident,” Grant snapped. “It was a murder!”
Wo’s voice took on a steely edge. “No, Mr. Archer. Let it rest.”
“But I know—”
“The case is closed!”
For a long moment the two men stared at each other, eyes locked. Grant could not fathom what was going on in Wo’s mind. But he knew his own thoughts: It may be over for you and your board of inquiry, he said silently, but it’s not over for me. I know Irene was murdered and I know who did it.
“The IAA has appointed Dr. Indra Chandrasekhar as interim director here.”
Grant stirred out of his inner turmoil. “Chandrasekhar? I don’t know her.”
“Your recognition is not a prerequisite for the position,” said Wo, smiling thinly.
Grant made no reply.
“She has been heading the studies of the Galilean moons. A very good leader. She comes from a long line of excellent scientists.”
“She’ll be in charge until Zeb returns?”
“Yes, and you will direct the studies of the Jovian creatures that you found in the ocean,” Wo said, his smile widening. Then he added, “Whether they are intelligent or not.”
“They’re intelligent. I’m convinced of that.”
“Good! Now all you have to do is prove it so completely that the rest of the world will believe it.”
“Including the New Morality?”
Wo laughed. “The New Morality, the Holy Disciples, the Light of Allah … even the Zealots.”
Grant nodded, accepting the challenge. The first thing I’ll have to do is go over the data we recorded. We can slow down the visual imagery so we can see the pictures the whales are flashing to each other. We’ve got to repair Zheng He or maybe build a new vessel…
Dr. Wo broke into his train of thoughts. “It will be necessary for you to remain here.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“You have earned a release from your Public Service obligation, of course. You could go back to Earth if you wish.”
“But the work is being done here.”
“Exactly. And—frankly—you are much safer here than on Earth, where some Zealot fanatic can murder you.”
There’s a Zealot fanatic here on this station, Grant thought. At least one. And I know who it is.
“Beech is keeping me incommunicado,” Grant said. “Egon and the women, too. I can’t even get a message out to my wife.”
Dr. Wo nodded knowingly. “I have seen to it that you can have the freedom of the station. You needn’t be confined to the infirmary. As for messages home…” He shrugged his heavy shoulders. “I’m afraid Mr. Beech has the upper hand in the communications department.”
Grant stared at the older man. It’s a struggle, he realized. A battle between Wo and Beech. Neither side has a completely free hand. And I’m caught in the middle of their power struggle.
Dr. Wo intruded on his thoughts. “Very well, then, Mr. Archer. There is one last farewell for you to make.”
“Farewell?” Grant asked.
Wo gestured toward Sheena’s darkened pen.
“Sheena’s leaving?”
“We have no further need of her. Perhaps the dolphins can be of help in your attempts to establish meaningful contact with the Jovians, but Sheena is too much like us to be of any aid in your work.”
“What’s going to happen to her?”
Wo sighed heavily. “The simplest thing to do would be to sacrifice her. Then we could dissect her brain and—”
“No!” Grant shouted.
Raising both his hands placatingly, Dr. Wo said, “I agree. It would be a criminal act. I am taking Sheena back to Earth with me, to a primate research center in Kinshasa. They are quite eager to have her, in fact.”
“She’ll be all right there?”
“She will be welcomed. They have augmented several other apes. Sheena will not be an anomaly there. If all goes well, she will be the mother of a new breed of creatures, the founder of dynasties. And another challenge to the fundamentalists.”
“By force of arms, if necessary. She is an extremely valuable entity.”
Grant felt a glow of satisfaction. “She’ll be among her own.”
“I believe so,” said Wo.
“I wish…” Grant could not finish the sentence. He swallowed hard and fought back tears, feeling embarrassed to be emotional about a gorilla.
Wo touched the keypad built into his chair’s armrest, and the overhead lights brightened to their daytime level.
“I can make the sun rise,” he said wryly. “One of the privileges of being station director.”
And Sheena wakes up with the sun, Grant remembered. He turned expectantly toward the entryway to her pen. Will she still be angry at me? he wondered.
Very gently, Wo said, “She asked to see you.”
“She did?”
“When I told her you had been injured, she became rather upset.”
Grand didn’t know what to say.
He heard her shambling out of her pen, huffing and snuffling like anyone who’d just awakened from a good night’s sleep. As he scrambled to his feet he caught a trace of the thick animal scent of her. Then Sheena appeared in the entryway, massive hairy shoulders brushing both edges of the open hatch.
“Grant,” the gorilla rasped.
“Hello, Sheena.”
She turned her eyes briefly to Dr. Wo but immediately looked back at Grant. “Grant hurt.”
“I’m all right now, Sheena. I’m fine.”
“No hurt?”
“Not anymore,” said Grant. “It’s good to see you, Sheena.”
“Sheena no hurt.”
She remembers the neural net, all right, Grant realized. But maybe she’s forgiven me for it.
The gorilla glanced at Dr. Wo again, then took a knuckle-walking step toward Grant. Grant extended his hand to her, palm up. Sheena reached out her enormous hand and touched Grant’s palm lightly.
“And Sheena is my friend,” he replied.
“Yes. Friends.”
Dr. Wo broke in, “Sheena and I are going to a new place where Sheena will make many new friends.”
The gorilla seemed to consider this for a moment, then said, “New friends. Grant, too?”
“I’m afraid not, Sheena. I’ve got to stay here for a while. Maybe later I’ll come and see you.”
“You come. See new friends. See Sheena.”
“I will,” Grant promised, hoping that he would one day be able to keep his word.
THE BEAUTY OF THY HOUSE
Surprised at how difficult it was for him to bid farewell to Sheena, Grant returned to the infirmary where he and Karlstad stood patiently for a final checkup by the little martinet who headed the medical staff. Once officially released, they dressed quickly and headed for their quarters, both of them walking awkwardly, their electrode-studded legs still feeling alien, barely under their own control.
Grant went past his own door.
Karlstad, tottering along beside him, said, “Have you forgotten where you live?” things, come to think of it”
“The only thing I want to do is get a decent meal and get the medics to shut down these damned biochips, so I can feel like a whole human being again.”