“I recommend that we exercise caution, Orli. There could still be danger.”
“I agree—something happened to those people.” She went back to the Proud Mary, rummaged in the captain’s locker, and withdrew a hand jazer, just in case. The Retroamers had turned their backs on human civilization, preferring isolation. Maybe they were too isolated. Someone could have gone berserk, perhaps released poison gas into the station atmosphere? She put on a facemask and found a portable air tank, which she strapped to her waist. Now she was ready.
Carrying the weapon, she opened the jury-rigged hatch into the main station. When she and DD entered the eerily silent alien city, a chill went down her back, though the temperature was warm and the lights were bright. Perfectly habitable and welcoming.
“Hello? Anybody home?” she called. DD picked up the refrain, calling out every few seconds in a piping voice that carried along the empty corridors.
Orli stepped into an open chamber—and found the body of a middle-aged woman wearing a typical Roamer jumpsuit with pockets, zippers, and embroidered markings. Her skin was blotched and discolored. She hadn’t been dead long. Orli pressed the mask tighter against her face. Poison? Nerve gas?
A plague?
She and DD pushed onward. In the second module they found an entire family huddled together, dead. Orli stared aghast. Whatever it was had struck them down quickly. Inside a larger chamber they found forty-three more, all gathered as if in a last community meeting.
“There could still be survivors sealed in other chambers,” DD suggested. “This is a very large city.”
“How does a compy get to be such an optimist?”
“It’s in my original programming.”
Inside the community chamber, one of the bodies had distinctive green skin. When he died, the green priest had knocked over a potted treeling that now spilled onto the deck, its fronds withering.
Orli breathed rapidly into her mask, close to hyperventilating. She felt her skin crawl and wondered how the disease or poison was transmitted—through simple respiration? Through the pores of the skin, or the moisture of the eyes?
“I should have worn a full environment suit,” she said.
“I can go back and retrieve one,” DD offered.
“Too late now. Let’s keep looking. Maybe someone left a log entry.”
At the control hub, they found a gray-bearded man at a desk surrounded by control screens. He was slumped into his chair, his head tilted forward, cold.
Orli recognized him. “I think that’s Olaf Reeves.”
“It does match the images in my database.”
Orli crept around the desk and forced herself to look at the main screen that Olaf Reeves had been using. It was still recording—the clan leader had tried to leave a final message. According to the counter, he had begun the recording nine hours and twenty-four minutes earlier.
She ran the file back, skimming it in reverse past hours and hours of his motionless body staring at the imager. Finally, near the beginning, he started to move and talk again, and she replayed his message.
His voice was raspy. “I am Olaf Reeves, head of clan Reeves. My people came to this abandoned city to create a self-sufficient colony, to make a new start. We didn’t know that the original inhabitants of this station had perished from a deadly plague, thousands of years ago. Now my clan has found death here as well.
“We are completely quarantined, and I jettisoned our ships so no one could escape and spread the disease. As of this recording, every one of my people has been infected. Most have already died, including”—his voice broke—”my son and his family. Our green priest dispatched a warning, but I’ll transmit this recording too. If you receive this message, stay away. This entire station is contaminated. I will not let the alien plague spread. If it gets loose in the Confederation, it could kill billions.”
Each breath was labored, and dark splotches covered Olaf’s face as he stared into the imager. His shoulders trembled. “To make damn sure, I’m going to destroy this city. My compies—” Then he went into a spasm of coughing that did not end. He vomited blood, and after a severe seizure he collapsed into unconsciousness. At some point during the remaining nine hours of the recording, he died at his desk.
Orli just stared, knowing that the clan head had meant to send his message on a repeating broadcast, but he had succumbed before he could complete his recording. She’d had no contact with Kett Shipping since she departed on this journey. Orli and DD had come here, unaware.
She stared silently for a long moment. “That means I’ve been exposed, DD.”
“That is a matter of great concern, Orli, but I should point out that you wore a breathing mask.”
Orli shook her head. “I didn’t don the facemask until we went into the city. The landing bay would have repressurized with station air. And if it’s all contaminated…” Still, she didn’t know for certain.
A Teacher compy strutted through the doorway of the admin hub. “I came to report on our progress. Is Mr. Reeves not receiving visitors?”
“Never again,” Orli said. “He’s dead.”
“Oh.” The Teacher compy paused to reassess. “I am BO, assigned as special tutor to the clan Reeves children. Unfortunately, I no longer have any students.”
“A pleasure to meet you. I am DD, a Friendly compy. This is Orli Covitz, captain of the Proud Mary.” He seemed happy to make the introductions. “Where are your students?”
“They are all dead. I was the only Teacher compy on the station, but there are five other compies. I came to report to Olaf Reeves that we are nearly finished with the task he assigned us.”
“What task?” Orli asked.
“Olaf Reeves gave us orders to modify the power blocks and alien energy reactors to generate an overload sufficient to destroy this entire city. It is imperative that no one else be infected. Olaf Reeves was not convinced that his warning would be heeded. The plague remained viable aboard this station for centuries or millennia, and he was certain that once humans learned about the derelict city, someone at some point would come here exploring.” BO’s voice changed, and she sounded more like a stern schoolteacher. “I see you did not heed the warning. Now I recognize his wisdom regarding human nature.”
“I didn’t receive any warning. He never finished or transmitted his recording. We arrived too late.”
“That is disappointing,” BO said. “I believe all members of clan Reeves are deceased. Fortunately, that removes a matter of some consternation among the compies.”
“What matter of consternation?”
“The reactor explosion will be sufficient to vaporize all components of this station. If any Roamers were still alive, our compy programming would preclude us from causing the detonation that would kill them.”
Orli was intimately familiar with the protective strictures embedded in compy core programming. “Failure to detonate the station might lead to continued spread of the plague. By waiting, you could endanger the lives of entire planetary populations.”
“That did cause a conundrum. In the meantime, preparing the linked reactors for detonation is a complex and time-consuming process, which we have not finished yet. Now the conundrum is solved.”
Orli and DD followed BO to the hub engineering chambers where the Worker compies were connecting a series of power blocks to the alien reactor, while others strung linked secondary explosives up into the spokes. Watching all the dutiful compies brought tears to Orli’s eyes. It reminded her of her own compies back on Relleker, who were now happily (she hoped) assigned to the Ikbir colony.