Zoe was stunned. She had never felt so alone, and yet Adam remained on the planet, insisting that Vaconda was a treasure chest. He was still a pioneer, sure that he and Zoe could survive.
With its vines, insects, lichentrees, and bitter-smelling winds, this was a primordial world, and the isolation was profound. Adam’s inability to help Evelyn after the accident convinced him to bring in other helpers—biologists, summer students, itinerants, so that he and his daughter wouldn’t be so helpless and cut off. Part-timers came, one or two at a time, to work in the jungle and live in the watchtower. When their temporary contracts were over, they left. Adam was unable to find anyone with an equal level of dedication and determination, to commit to the work and to Adam and Zoe.
Until Tom Rom came. And he made up for all the others…
Now, freshly decontaminated, he stood in her presence, still keeping a safe distance. Tom Rom displayed a file explaining what he had brought back from Kuivahr. “It’s a Roamer distillation facility on an Ildiran world. Several species of plankton and kelp there have interesting extracts, some with peculiar properties. Worth analyzing for possible benefits. I brought samples of the different types Del Kellum uses in brewing and distillation. There’s also a kind of liquor the Ildirans consume. It’s unpalatable to humans but supposedly has tonic effects for Ildirans.”
“Humans and Ildirans have many biological similarities, but we’re not identical,” Zoe said. “My library has a whole section on Ildiran diseases that have no effect on humans.”
“It might be worth a follow-up visit to Kuivahr. The Ildiran researcher there is studying genetic abnormalities in mixed-breeds.”
“Physical deformities?” Zoe asked. Those wouldn’t interest her at all.
“Deep DNA studies to see why some of the breedings fail.”
“Yes, it might be valuable data for the library—if you can get the Ildirans to give us their records. But that’s not what I want from you next.” When Zoe stood, she kept her desk between them at first. Tom Rom knew not to get closer than five feet. That was their agreement. She was a very different person now from the girl she had been on Vaconda, and she lived in a very different universe.
After a brief hesitation, Zoe finally came around, standing as close to him as she dared. “I found something else I want you to look into.”
One wall of her office chamber was covered with a mosaic of images culled from thousands of news networks. She could spend hours sifting through the selections to find any report that interested her, an outbreak of an unusual sickness, perhaps, or some kind of miracle cure. In many cases, samples of new plagues were easy to obtain, and she employed other scouts and investigators to gather them. Bribes were usually sufficient to obtain library copies of new vaccines or treatments.
Sometimes, though, Zoe suspected an investigation could be particularly dangerous. For those matters she relied upon Tom Rom.
She selected the proper mosaic screen, enlarged it, and showed him the report that had caught her interest. A man had been arrested for dissecting the fallen Klikiss bodies left scattered on their abandoned worlds—and also for extracting and devouring some parts of them.
In a short video clip, the man cried, “They have royal jelly!” but his eyes were wild as he fought against the authorities. “It cured me!”
“According to records,” Zoe said, “that man had not been suffering from any major disease at all, so no need for any miracle cure.”
“He’s obviously insane,” Tom Rom said.
“Yes, he is… but even insane people can have good ideas. I find his claims fascinating. Go to a place where there are Klikiss bodies, extract this royal jelly, and bring it here so we can run tests. Don’t call attention to yourself. If the royal jelly turns out to have exceptional properties, we’ll want to harvest it from as many Klikiss bodies as possible before anyone else realizes the potential.”
He gave a crisp nod. “There are plenty of Klikiss worlds to choose from. I’ll head out immediately.” He turned to go.
She felt a pang and had to restrain herself from reaching out a hand to him. “So soon? After all those decontamination procedures, stay with me for a day or two.”
“Time is of the essence, Zoe.” He wasn’t avoiding her, but she knew that Tom Rom didn’t feel alive unless he was on a mission of some kind. For her.
She stared at him, knowing she would feel connected to him no matter how close or how far he was. “I have never met another person so devoted to me… or to anyone. You know you don’t have to do everything I ask, Tom.”
He regarded her as if she had spoken an incomprehensible statement. “But I want to. You know it’s always been my heart’s desire to protect you, to help you achieve what you need to achieve. That’s why you trust me so much.”
“And why are you so dedicated?” She had never understood it herself.
“Why do you need a reason?” He turned to depart the dome. “I’ll bring you the royal jelly.” On his way out, he paused to give her a broad smile. “It’s good to see you.”
FOURTEEN
YAZRA’H
The halfbreed girl had a wild intensity in her eyes that would strike fear into an opponent—which was a good thing, but Yazra’h had other concerns about her as well. Yazra’h brought up her blunted katana just in time, and Muree’n’s staff cracked down, hard, where her shoulder had been an instant before. Then the girl sprang back, laughing.
From the ringing vibrations through the katana staff, Yazra’h gauged the strength of that blow. Even with her thin and flexible practice armor, the blow would have broken bones had it landed.
Under the bright glare of the suns, the two circled on the high-level combat field. Instead of soft dirt or solid ground, the practice field was covered with large, mirrored spheres packed together, each one a meter in diameter. Both combatants were barefoot, balancing on the smooth, curved surfaces, and they leaped from one sphere to the next, balancing, rolling, and fighting.
Tossing her head to shake the hair away from her face, Yazra’h swung her weapon sideways, trying to smack the girl’s head with the flat of the blade—just enough to stun her and teach her a lesson. But Muree’n bobbed, ducked under the katana, and popped up again with her staff to drive the blade aside. The girl was sturdy, muscular, and her half-human features softened the normally bestial appearance of a true warrior kithman.
Muree’n jabbed with the rounded end of her weapon, trying to punch Yazra’h in the center of the chest, but Yazra’h bent sideways, just enough that the blow only caught her in the ribs.
“This is only practice, girl,” Yazra’h warned.
“If practice isn’t real, then it’s worthless.” Muree’n threw herself forward with a wild yell. Instead of using her katana, though, Yazra’h reached out with the flat of her hand, caught Muree’n in the sternum, and hurled her backward. The girl spun and caught her balance on one of the spheres. The multiple suns reflecting from the mirrored surfaces sent up random flashes and a constant glare.
“I will try hand-to-hand, then.” Muree’n cast her practice stick aside. “I’m good enough. Test me.” She jumped closer, balancing on the adjacent sphere. Yazra’h caught the girl by both wrists and threw her up and sideways. Muree’n yelped, tumbled, but somehow landed on her feet.
Yazra’h gasped for breath. “You are getting better, girl. I won’t argue with that.” Though Yazra’h was a strong fighter, she didn’t belong to the warrior kith; she was a noble, a daughter of the Mage-Imperator; few warrior kithmen could best her in combat, however.