“What’s the population these days?” asked Laureline.
“Approximately thirty million,” Alex replied promptly. “Three thousand, two hundred and thirty-six species from the four corners of the universe—metaphorically speaking, of course, as to the best of our knowledge the universe has no corners—inhabit the station, pooling their knowledge and cultures. Over five thousand languages are currently in use, not counting the various computer languages.”
A list of languages scrolled up on the monitors.
“Current demographics?” asked Valerian.
“In the southern part of the station, the submerged portions are located. There are presently eight hundred species situated there, which live in a variety of liquids.”
Various aquatic creatures appeared on his screen. Valerian recognized most of them, such as the Toinul, who were both gaseous and aquatic and resembled a human brain, the fishlike Martapuraï, who had been among the first few aliens to make contact with humans, the benevolent Poulong farmers who harvested cobalt, and the enormous, generally pacifistic creatures known as Bromosaurs, seventy yards from nose to long tail who inhabited the depths of the Galana Plains. But there were even more that he didn’t recognize. That didn’t surprise him. Alpha Station was always growing.
“In the north, we have gaseous lands, which continue to be dominated by a large colony of Omelites,” Alex continued. These guys, Valerian knew. Everyone did. The Omelites, rather scrawny beings with oversized heads and long, dangling arms, were greatly valued by the station. They were both organic and metallic, and had developed a society based on information technology.
“To the east of them, of course, the Azin Mö still have their nuclei fields, which have grown eighteen percent since our last visit.” The Azin Mö, too, were honored and respected at Alpha. They had the unique ability to produce any kind of cell, and were invaluable physicians and masters of neuroscience.
“Finally, to the west, in a pressurized atmosphere, we have nine million humans and compatible species.”
“Home sweet home,” Laureline said sardonically.
Alex ignored her tone, continuing her role as tour guide. “The transit halls that connect the districts to one another now total seventeen units.”
“What a mess,” said Laureline, sighing.
“The economy has been in shambles for a year. Would you like a quick summary?” Alex inquired.
“No,” Valerian said quickly, adding sarcastically, “enough excitement for today.”
A brisk voice came over the controls. “Intruder XB982. Authorization to dock in Section 1. VIP access.”
Laureline turned to Valerian with a look of exaggerated astonishment on her face. “Hey, we’re famous!”
“Took them long enough,” Valerian replied.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
General Noïntan Okto-Bar awaited them in the Alpha Space Station control room. The room was familiar to Valerian and Laureline. This was the nerve center of the station, and nearly every square inch of space except for the floor was covered with screens. Monitors of a variety of colors set against a black background displayed everything from the temperature of any given locale on the station to the number of inhabitants, from the chemical makeup of gases and liquids in the various districts to which doors were locked. From here, systems could be monitored and overridden if necessary. Life or death decisions were made by dozens of expertly trained technicians every second.
It was dizzying to look upon, even for spatio-temporal agents like the two who now entered. But they were used to the technology on display inside. What bothered them was what else was on conspicuous display this time: troops.
Valerian and Laureline exchanged glances. Something was definitely afoot.
Valerian was really starting to regret not reading the briefing on this particular mission. But even if he had, it was becoming abundantly clear that there were quite a lot of pieces missing.
General Okto-Bar turned to regard them, his lips pressed together in disapproval, his always-cool blue eyes now icy with displeasure. He was a tall man, fit but slim, with reddish-blonde hair and a controlled demeanor. Valerian knew that although the general had come from a long line of famous soldiers, he himself had no spouse or children; Okto-Bar had said more than once that his soldiers were his family. Everyone who had served under him knew the general always had their backs.
Except, perhaps, when he was annoyed with them. Like now, for instance.
“You’re late,” Okto-Bar said without preamble.
“Sorry, sir,” Valerian apologized. “The mission was a bit more complicated than we expected.”
“Always expect the worst,” the general stated. “You’ll never be disappointed.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, sir.”
“Did you check the converter?” the general asked.
Laureline smiled. “He’s in great shape!”
“Sir,” said Valerian, “we didn’t get all the info on this mission. May I ask what’s going on?”
For answer, the general turned to the main screen. “Declassify,” he instructed.
A layout of the entire station appeared on the screen. This was also familiar to the agents. But something was different.
Amid the cool blue lines was a hazy red spot located in its center.
“What are we looking at?” Valerian asked. His gut was already tightening in anticipation of the answer, which he was pretty sure he knew.
“This is an image taken a year ago. The red area is a radioactive zone,” Okto-Bar said grimly.
Shit.
“We discovered it growing right in the middle of the station,” Okto-Bar continued. “No signal of any kind could get through it. We sent in several probes, but none came back. So, last year, we sent in a special unit. Its mission was to get as close to the zone as possible and define the nature of the threat.”
The general paused. “And?” Valerian prodded.
“Nobody made it back from the mission alive,” Okto-Bar said bluntly.
Valerian and Laureline stood in somber silence. An entire special unit…
“Any idea who attacked them?” asked Laureline.
“None whatsoever,” the general replied. He couldn’t quite keep the anger out of his voice, and Valerian couldn’t blame him. “As I said—that was what it looked like a year ago.” He paused, seeming to steel himself, then said, “This is the situation today.”
He nodded at the technician, and she hit another key. A second image appeared alongside the first.
The red radioactive zone was ten times larger.
Beside Valerian, Laureline shivered, almost imperceptibly. Valerian himself felt slightly sick to his stomach.
Okto-Bar continued implacably. “The air in the affected zone is unbreathable and highly contaminated. And this… thing… keeps on growing. Like a tumor.” He practically spat the last word.
Another voice joined the conversation—masculine, strong, certain. “A tumor that we have to cut out as soon as we can. If we don’t, and the cancer keeps spreading, it will destroy Alpha in under a week.”
The speaker entered the control room. He was a striking figure in his blue-green uniform, his posture straight and his expression concerned but confident. There was not a crease in his uniform that wasn’t meant to be there, nor a hair out of place, and he radiated a sense of leashed energy. Valerian had never met him, but he recognized him at once as Commander Arun Filitt.