“And ever since, they’ve been a royal pain in the ass,” said Ivanova.
“Literally,” said Seppo.
“Bastards,” Neghar muttered.
The UMC. Kira had seen enough of the League’s military, both on and off Weyland, to know how they tended to run roughshod over local concerns. One of the reasons, she thought, was the relative newness of the service; the League, and thus the United Military Command, had only been created in the wake of the discovery of the Great Beacon. A coming together had been needed, the politicians claimed, given the implications of the Beacon. Growing pains were to be expected. But the other reason for the UMC’s often callous disregard, Kira believed, was the imperialistic attitude of Earth and the rest of Sol. They thought nothing of ignoring the rights of the colonies in favor of what was best for Earth, or what they called “the greater good.” Good for whom, though?
Another grunt from Mendoza. “Captain of the Extenuating Circumstances is a cat-eyed SOB by the name of Henriksen. Real piece of work. His main concern was that Neghar here had picked up some sort of contamination in those ruins. So Henriksen sent down his doctor and a team of xenobiologists and—”
“And they set up a clean room and spent the past two days poking and prodding us until we puked,” said Jenan.
“Literally,” said Seppo.
Marie-Élise nodded. “It was so unpleasant, Kira. You are lucky you were still in cryo.”
“I guess,” she said slowly.
Fizel snorted. “They irradiated every square centimeter of our skin, multiple times. They X-rayed us. They gave us MRIs and CAT scans, ran full blood panels, sequenced our DNA, examined our urine and feces, and took biopsies; you may notice a slight mark on your abdomen from the liver sample. They even cataloged our gut bacteria.”
“And?” said Kira, glancing from face to face.
“Nothing,” said Mendoza. “Clean bill of health, for Neghar, for you, for all of us.”
Kira frowned. “Wait, they tested me also?”
“You better believe it,” said Ivanova.
“Why? Do you think you’re too special to be examined?” asked Fizel. His tone set Kira’s teeth on edge.
“No, I just…” She felt weird—violated even—knowing those procedures had been performed on her while she was unconscious, even if they had been necessary to maintain proper biocontainment.
Mendoza seemed to pick up on her discomfort. He eyed her from beneath his heavy brows. “Captain Henriksen made it abundantly clear that the only reason he isn’t keeping us under lock and key is because they found nothing unusual. Neghar is the one they were really worried about, but they weren’t going to let any of us off Adrasteia until they were sure.”
“You can’t blame them,” said Kira. “I’d be doing the same in their place. Hard to be too careful in this sort of situation.”
Mendoza huffed. “I don’t blame them for that. It’s the rest of it. They put us under a strict gag order. We can’t even talk to corporate about what we found. If we do, it’s a felony and up to twenty years in prison.”
“How long is the gag order?”
His shoulders rose and fell. “Indefinite.”
There went Kira’s plans for publication, at least in the near term. “How are we supposed to explain why we’re so late returning from Adra?”
“Drive malfunction on the Fidanza resulting in unavoidable delays. You’ll find the details in your messages. Memorize them.”
“Yessir.” She scratched her arm again. She needed lotion. “Well, that’s a hassle, but it’s not that bad.”
A pained expression crossed Alan’s face. “Oh it gets worse, babe. A lot worse.”
Kira’s sense of dread returned. “Worse?”
Mendoza nodded slowly, as if his head was too heavy for his neck. “The UMC didn’t just quarantine the island.”
“Nope,” said Ivanova. “That would have been too easy.”
Fizel slammed his hand down on the counter. “Just tell her already! They quarantined the whole damn system, okay? We lost Adra. It’s gone. Poof!”
3.
Kira sat next to Alan in the mess hall, studying a live image of the Extenuating Circumstances taken from orbit and projected from the holo in front of them.
The ship must have been half a kilometer long. Stark white, with a spindly midsection, bulbous engine at one end, and a petal-like arrangement of spinning decks at the other. The habitat sections were hinged so they could lie flat against the stem of the ship when under thrust, a costly option that most vessels went without. At the nose of the Extenuating Circumstances were several ports, like shuttered eyes: missile tubes and lenses for the ship’s main laser.
A quarter of the way down the ship, a pair of identical shuttles fitted snugly against either side of the hull. The shuttles were far larger than the ones the survey team had used. Kira wouldn’t be surprised if they were equipped with Markov Drives, same as a full-sized spaceship.
The most striking feature of the Extenuating Circumstances was the banks of radiators that lined its midsection, starting directly behind the habitats and continuing all the way down to the swell of the engine. The edges of the diamond fins flashed and gleamed as they caught the light of the sun, and the tubes of molten metal embedded within the fins shone like silver veins.
In all, the ship looked like a huge, deadly insect: thin, sharp, and glittery.
“Hey,” said Alan, and she tore her attention away from the overlays to see him holding out her engagement ring, almost as if he were proposing again. “Thought you might want this.”
Despite her worries, Kira softened for a moment, feeling a welcome warmth. “Thank you,” she said, slipping the iron band onto her finger. “I’m glad I didn’t lose it in that cave.”
“Me too.” Then he leaned in close and murmured, “Missed you.”
She kissed him. “Sorry for making you worry.”
“Congratulations to the both of you, chérie,” said Marie-Élise, and she wiggled her finger from Kira to Alan.
“Yeah, congrats,” said Jenan, and everyone else added their well-wishes. Everyone but Mendoza—who was off radioing Ravenna to set up a pickup time for the following day—and Fizel—who was cleaning his fingernails with a plastic butter knife.
Kira smiled, pleased and somewhat self-conscious. “Hope you don’t mind,” said Alan, bending down toward her. “I kinda let it slip when it looked like you weren’t going to wake up.”
She leaned back against him and gave him another quick kiss. Mine, she thought. “It’s fine,” she murmured.
Then Yugo came over to them and knelt by the end of the table so he wasn’t looming over Kira. “Do you think you can eat?” he asked her. “It would do you some good.”
Kira wasn’t hungry, but she knew he was right. “I can try.”
He nodded, spade-shaped chin touching the top of his chest. “I’ll warm up some stew for you. You’ll like it. Nice and easy on the stomach.”
As he lumbered away, Kira returned her attention to the Extenuating Circumstances. She scrubbed at her arms again and then started to fiddle with the ring on her finger.
Her head was still spinning from Mendoza’s revelation, and her earlier sense of disassociation had returned even stronger than before. She hated that all their work over the past four months had been for nothing, but more than that, she hated the thought of losing the future she and Alan had planned together on Adrasteia. If they weren’t going to settle there, then—