Dark as Day

“A dead end.”

“I told you, if it stopped there I’d have sent a postcard. It doesn’t. Since I was inside the data banks, I decided to go the other way — forward in time. As you might expect, services on Earth got better over the years, and all the kids who’d been DP’s grew up and had regular exams and medical treatment. I can transfer full genomes on every one of them, if you want to download.”

“I think so.” Bat slowly nodded. He was sitting motionless, eyes closed. “To the Seine terminal. I will arrange for their subsequent storage in the Keep. Please continue.”

“A fair number grew up physically damaged or mentally freaky, and a few died from long-term after-effects of the war. But not one of them showed anything that linked them to the Heraldic asteroid, or to Nadeen Selassie. They merged into the rest of Earth’s population, and those that could took normal jobs. By the time I came within five years of the present I was convinced I was going nowhere, but what’s time when you’re having fun? I kept barreling along to the end. And guess what? In records less than three months old, I finally hit paydirt.”

“Anomalies?”

“Make that a singular. One anomaly — but a biggie, way out beyond your four-sigma cutoff. A couple of DP kids, adults now, had been working as low-level helpers, nothing special, on a Global Minerals’ methane-mining platform. They’d been there ten years or more, but recently they took it into their heads to apply for jobs in the Outer System. The woman’s idea, I suspect, because the man shows up in the records as a little bit slow and more than a little bit strange. So they take the tests, and scrape through, and now the man starts to look more interesting. He can predict the outcome of hydrodynamic systems, particularly planetary atmospheres, that are complex enough to push computer models to their limits. Doesn’t know how he does it, says he dreams it — and he draws the results.”

“Not unique.” Bat was unimpressed. “History records autistic children and adults with that same ability. Predicting the meteorological behavior of an atmosphere falls far short of Nadeen Selassie’s planet-destroying weapon. I doubt if it satisfies the four-sigma criterion.”

“Hey, you asked for oddities. I’m giving oddities, now you want more. But I’m not done. Hear the rest before you talk sigma levels. The man’s name is Sebastian Birch, and I already sent his ID through to your data bank. After he and the woman pass the written tests — they operate as a team, by the way — they go up to Earth orbit for the physicals. She zips through easily, healthy and smart and perfectly normal. He seems healthy enough, but they run into a snag. His body cells are filled with tiny little balls, all identical and inorganic and apparently inert. They do nothing, but according to all the medics they shouldn’t be there. Nobody has ever seen anything like ’em. They removed a whole batch of them as samples for the files. Are we at four-sigma yet?”

“There, and surpassing it.” Bat’s eyes were wide open. “Mord, this is exactly what I was hoping you might find. Can you send me full details of the tests performed, together with the complete set of results and comments?”

“Doing it while we talk. The comments won’t do you much good, though. They all amount to, What the hell gives here? But I’m still not finished. The medics don’t know why Sebastian Birch is full of these gizmos, but since they don’t seem to be harming him or anyone else the medics give the okay: Birch and the woman, Janeed Ja

“Ganymede? These people are on Ganymede?”

“They are — right where you’re going to be, a few days from now. But they almost didn’t make it. You’re the System expert on tapping transportation records, so I’ll only give you the bare bones and you can dig out the details for yourself. Sebastian Birch and Janeed Ja

“At it, and far beyond. Mord, this is extraordinary. What does it signify?”

“Hey, you’re supposed to tell me. I’m just a high-level Fax, you’re the one with the bulging brow and the monster mind. You ask for oddities, I give you oddities. But don’t ask me to tie this to Nadeen Selassie, or the ‘dark-as-day’ weapon that’s supposed to destroy the solar system. So far as I’m concerned, all we’ve done is find a human being who could have arrived on Earth at the right time, and who happens to have a very peculiar body and brain. Making sense of that is your job, not mine. What’s your explanation?”

Bat sagged down onto the padded chair, his bulk overflowing the edges. He rested his elbows on his well-padded chest and cupped his chin in his hands. “It is u

“Not a scrap.”

“Then we should conclude this meeting. I must think.”

“Suits me. I don’t want to stay too long, anyway.”

“My apologies if you are offended. Your presence is normally welcome at any time, but this is an exceptional situation.”

“Hey, it’s not you I’m worried about. I don’t like to stay any place too long. I said it before, and I’ll say it again: something’s hunting me out there, and it’s closing in on my tail.”

“Would you prefer to leave the distributed Seine network completely, and reside within the Keep? You will be safe here, and the Keep will maintain its integrity as a protected unit even in my absence.”

“Nail. I’ve been inside, it’s boring as hell. Out in the Seine it may be risky, but there’s a billion interesting sites to explore. Meantime, so long. I’m out of here. I’ll visit you on Ganymede.”

Mord nodded, and the image vanished from the display.

Bat did not move. New information normally served to clarify an issue. In this case, discoveries seemed to add a new layer of confusion.

True, he now had a name and a place. But if Sebastian Birch were in fact co

And yet there were the mysterious specks of matter found within Sebastian Birch’s body. If they lacked a biological or chemical action, what remained? Only, perhaps, something in the realm of physics.

Bat sat motionless as the minutes and hours ticked by. Finally, the time for pla

“My apologies for disturbing you. It seems I was given a wrong ID.”

“Great. It also seems to be the middle of the night.”

“So it is.” Bat was unfazed. “I am attempting to reach Alex Ligon.”

“Who is calling?”

“This is Rustum Battachariya.”

“Oh. He’s asleep, but I’m sure he’ll want to talk to you. Hold on a second.”

After a few moments, Alex’s voice said, “Huh?” He sounded not only three-quarters asleep, but perplexed.

“This is Bat. We have not spoken since your visit, but am I to assume that your family is still interested in obtaining the use of Pandora as an operations base within the Saturn system?”

“Extremely interested. If there are any terms on which an arrangement might be made, we would like to discuss them.” There was an unintelligible mutter of complaint in the background, followed by Alex’s faint, “I know it is, Kate. And I know I promised. But this may be the only chance.”