Regenesis

Jordan frowned, probably looking for a stinger somewhere in that offer. “Might be interesting.”

Curiosity, curiosity. He couldn’t turn down actual information, and seeing how she worked, compared to her predecessor, was a question. “Delighted,” she said. “I’ll be interested in any criticism.”

“I’ll imagine you’re quite precocious.”

“I’ve been told so from the start. I’m really trying to make peace, here. And I really am interested in your input.”

“I’ll bet you are.”

“Dad…”

“Oh, I know she is. She still can learn some things. I’m sure she’s no more omniscient than the first model. She hasn’t gotten as argumentative yet, by half. But that will come, I’m sure.”

“It might come earlier if she has to deal with too many disagreeable di

“Oh,” Jordan said, “are we taking sides now?”

“Neighbors,” Ari said with a smile. “Thank you, Justin. But don’t worry. Good minds make interesting conversation. And I think Jordan is very interesting.”

They made it through the salad, even into the main course, which was pasta and imported sausage, with marinara and real cheese.

“Must say the food’s better here than Planys,” Jordan said.

“I’ll relay the compliment,” Ari said. “Thank you. –Were you able to get out of the labs there, Jordan? Did you see anything of the countryside at all?”

“Damn barren,” Jordan said in his conversation‑stopping way. “No, we weren’t offered tours. There weren’t even views. One window in the main office, for the secretaries. None for the rest of your favored guests.”

“There’s no reason for that,” Ari said. “There ought to be views. I don’t know why there weren’t.”

“Maybe they thought giving us a view of the landscape would guide us when we made a break for it.”

Across desert where there weren’t even precip stations. Where the waste of the labs and residences had to be carefully processed, every iota of foreign life eradicated, so it wouldn’t destroy the native micro‑fauna, and contaminate the other continent. When planes flew between the main continent and Planys, they decontaminated the landing gear and the hulls and sprayed down the inside…because they had a world where, unlike old Earth, unlike Pell, there were two distinct ecologies, two landmasses that hadn’t drifted close enough to mix for eons, where there were two circulating currents either side of a high oceanic ridge, and where the only thing that flew was vegetative, most of which wouldn’t survive in the opposing environment–what floated or swam could get there, but that was all. Massive ankyloderms cruised the subsurface, occasionally making a nuisance of themselves; over here it was the other kind of subsurface creature, the platythere, and both of them turned their feeding‑grounds to desert.

“So you never did see an anklyoderm,” she said, ignoring the barb.

“Never did,” he said.

“I’d like to,” she said.

“They don’t surface as often as the platytheres,” Jordan said. “So I understand. In great detail. The ankyloderm guy there is a complete spacecase. You should have to listen to him on the topic. And we did, interminably. They had a guest lecture program. We were all supposed to get to understand each other. All damn useless.”

“Who didyou associate with?” Ari asked.

The habitual frown went a shade deeper. “You want other targets for your people to investigate?”

“Dr. Thieu?”

“Thieu’s a murderer.”

“That’s how you got Patil’s card, isn’t it? Is that the friend you referenced?”

Jordan went as hard as deep ice.

“They corresponded,” Paul said, out of the quiet.

“You with Patil?”

“Thieu with Patil,” Jordan snapped. “And I’m sure security knows it. Why is everyone in such a flap?”

“Security just hates it when their compartments leak,” Ari said. “Especially where it threatens the biosphere. Especially when it’d be so easy for some lunatic to contaminate, say, the Planys reserve. Nanisms could run riot–if they were tailored for it. The Centrists would get their way completely…no reason, then, to stop their pet project.”

“Not my field,” Jordan said with a shrug. “Ask Thieu. Nanisms have nothing to do with me.”

“Except the card.”

“I thought we were waiting for dessert.”

“I think we’re ready for dessert,” Ari said, laying her fork down. “Are you?”

“I think I’ve had enough.”

“Dad.”

“Damn it,” Jordan said, banging his fork down and looking straight at Justin. “Pick your side and stay with it.”

“Politics doesn’t mean a thing to you,” Justin said. “You used to say it was all nonsense. Pick your side, you said, and use it for all the use it can be to you.”

“Thank you,” Jordan said, “for that reminder of basic principles.”

“Dessert,” Ari said cheerfully, and waved a signal at service. Florian and Catlin hadn’t moved from where they stood, facing her, a perfect, black‑clad and elegant set, Florian the dark one, Catlin the bright, and neither face ever showing an expression. Dessert came through the door between them, a confection of light pastry and egg cream.

“Looks good,” Grant said, as cheerfully–and doubtless wishing he could get himself away from the argument. Things hadn’t been said, outright. Yet.

“Coffee, ser?” Callie was back, bearing a silver pot, making the rounds. It was a good, rich coffee, not synthetic, which complimented the egg cream–real egg cream, too. They got the best from the AG unit. Chickens, the one bird allowed onworld, were a definite plus, bred for centuries to be plump, nonseasonal, and flightless.

“Nice,” Justin said, after a bite.

“So did that card come from outside,” Ari asked, “or was it printed from transmission?”

“Transmission, far as I know,” Jordan said. “But I could be wrong. Thieu gave it to me and said contact the woman, give her his regards, old colleagues and all–I told you he’s a dodderer. His rejuv is going. He’s sometimes on, sometimes not.”

Transmission suggested no physical card had gotten to Planys…or broken quarantine. Hence nothing more sinister had gotten to Planys, either, or had gotten from Planys to the larger continent. It indicated that Jordan had done what he’d done solely as a means of agitating security andhis son. She was sure Justin could add that equation. The remaining question was whether the reassuring story was the truth at all.

“I knew damned well I’d make trouble for Patil if I called her,” Jordan said, after a bite. “Or if I mentioned her name while I was sure we were bugged. So I just handed the card on to my thoughtful son, who created a hell of a lot of trouble.”

“Bugged and watched, Dad. We always are. For our protection, our legalprotection as well as physical.”

“It wasn’t that way in my time here. But you’ve gotten used to it. Adapted, clearly. Nice dessert.”

“Thank you,” Ari said, taking another, delicate spoonful. So they at least had a story to explain the card, true or half‑true or no relation to the truth at all–and truthers were ru

And Jordan had said to Justin, once in the long ago, choose the side that’s useful…while the first Ari had said, in her tapes–watch out for Jordan.