Juna turned in the water, stood up, and kissed him in answer.
“Yes, I think the baths do need a little maintenance,” Bruce said. “I’ll go put the sign out.” He pulled her hips close against his and kissed her again. “Be back in a minute.”
Juna waited in the quiet steamy dusk of the baths. With so few people aboard ship, the baths weren’t very crowded, and it had become the custom to close them off for couples during the quiet midmorning and midafternoon hours. She had been pleased to find the osento open and empty, and even more pleased that Bruce had joined her.
Bruce slipped back into the water. Juna pushed off and met him in the middle of the bath.
“I ran into Moki in the garden. He told me you were in here,” Bruce said as she slid into his arms.
“I see. So this isn’t just a coincidence, then.”
“Not really, no.”
“Good.” Juna said, and kissed him. They slid down, letting the dark, warm water embrace them.
Afterwards, they floated side by side.
“How did your conversation go?” Bruce asked.
“She wanted to do some research. I’m supposed to call her back tonight.” Juna paused, staring up at the dark ceiling, thinking over her conversation with the reporter. “I like her, but I don’t know what that means. I don’t know if I can trust her. I don’t know if she’s on our side, and even if she is, I don’t know if this scheme is going to work.”
Bruce smoothed his hand along her back. “Juna, the Survey’s going to keep us here until hell freezes over. Yes, what you’re doing is risky, but doing nothing’s far worse.”
Juna let out a deep breath, letting the water close over her. She lay in the water, feeling her heart beat. It reminded her of allu-a, and it comforted her. She surfaced, letting the water skim her mane of dark, frizzy hair away from her face. It was getting long enough to be unruly. She needed to get it cut.
“I hope I’ve done the right thing,” Juna said. “If I were an enkar, and this blew up in my face, I’d be honor-bound to kill myself.”
“Then I’m glad you’re not an enkar.”
“So am I,” she said. “So am I.”
Analin emerged from the shower, fixed herself a pot of strong coffee, and set to work. She dug through story files and declassified archive reports on the Tendu, assembling a more complete history of the aliens. The deeper she dug, the less sense the quarantine made. There was no health-related evidence to support the quarantine. The only deaths on Tiangi were the members of Juna’s Survey team. According to Dr. Saari’s report, they had died of anaphylactic shock from inhaling airborne alien proteins when their suit filters failed. Despite extensive testing by both Survey teams, there had been no cross-infection of Earth organisms by Tendu pathogens or parasites.
Analin leaned back in her chair, and frowned at the computer screen. So what was the real reason behind this quarantine? She got up and fixed herself breakfast, and then started making some phone calls. Her first call was to her best contact within the Survey, an old friend from college.
“Per! How are you?” Analin said, when she finally got through to him. She let the string of pleasantries and reminiscences run on for a few minutes. It really was good to catch up with Per.
Then Analin pounced.
“Per, according to the official news, the Tendu are in quarantine pending a medical examination to determine whether they are carriers of any contagious diseases. But I’ve heard from a reliable source that there’s no scientific basis for those concerns. Apparently the Survey is holding the Tendu and the crew of the Homa Darabi Maru prisoner for political reasons. What do you know about this?”
Per’s eyes widened at the question. Analin exulted inwardly; she had struck a nerve. “Where did you hear a thing like that?” he asked, after a silence that was too long to be innocent, yet not quite long enough to be overtly suspicious.
“Let’s just say that the source was reputable enough to make it worth checking out. I thought that perhaps you might know who could shed a little light on the situation.”
Per smiled. “You should contact our Public Information Bureau for information on that, Analin. Here, let me give you their comm number.” He typed it onto the screen and Analin dutifully copied the number into her address book. Meanwhile, Per was rubbing the left side of his nose, a code that indicated he would contact her later, on an unmonitored line. He had her anonymous-source address, so the whole transaction would stay off the official record.
They chatted pleasantly for a few more moments. Per invited her over to see his vegetable garden. The tomatoes in his greenhouse were really big. Then he signed off.
Analin poured another cup of coffee. Per hated tomatoes, and didn’t garden, so the news he had for her had to be really important. She made a few more calls, while waiting for Per’s message, but most of her other sources either professed to know nothing at all, or simply didn’t speak to her. That was odd. Usually they would at least speculate a little. Someone had told them not to talk about the Tendu or the quarantine. But who? And more importantly, why?
She paced through her tiny, cluttered apartment, waiting for the message from Per to come in. What the hell was going on? She was about to call the Survey’s Information Bureau, just to get their official version, when Per’s message arrived.
“There’s some serious power behind the quarantine. Even the head office is running ^scared. The rumor is that someone is using the CCD to keep the Tendu bottled up on that ship, but you didn’t hear this from me.” He spoke hastily, as though afraid that he was going to be overheard. “Be careful, ’Lin,” he said as he reached forward to end the message.
Analin pushed back from the comm and stared at the blank screen. Per knew she could take care of herself, so he was warning her that this could be serious. She should move someplace safe before she did any more digging. Despite her caution, a frisson of excitement fluttered in her stomach. She bustled around her apartment, packing.
Into one large trunk she carefully packed all the keepsakes and records that she didn’t want anyone to destroy or read. She threw her travel clothes into a backpack, backed up her comp, then did a high-security reformat and rewrite on the memory, erasing every shred of information, and writing over it with meaningless data. She carefully disassembled one lamp that had a hidden compartment in it, and left it lying on the dining room table. A thorough search would trash her apartment, but perhaps she could convince them that there was nothing here to search for. She had cleaned up after several such searches before, and she didn’t want to have to do it again.
She was almost finished packing when Dr. Saari called back.
Analin told her what she had learned so far.
“At least Survey isn’t behind this,” Juna said when she was done. “That’s something. Thank you.”
“Call me at the same time in two days,” Analin said. “I should know a lot more by then.” She glanced past Juna to Moki. “I’m doing everything I can to get you out as soon as possible.”
“Thank you,” Moki said. “I appreciate what you’re doing for us, Ms. Goudrian.”
“Please, call me Analin,” she said. “And it is my pleasure. I never thought I would get to meet you, even over the cornra.”
Analin shook her head in wonder after they signed off. These two had handed her the story of the year, and yet they were grateful to her!
She turned the comm off, and packed the last few items. Then she put the trunk and a laundry bag full of pillows and dirty clothes onto her luggage cart, swung on her backpack, and left. She shipped the trunk via slow freight to her uncle in Canada, with instructions to contact her when it arrived. The pillows got dropped off at the laundry, where they would be safe from searchers with knives. She was still finding feathers from the last time someone searched her place. Then she tightened the straps on her backpack, and headed for the train station.