Symbiont

By Alan R. Emery

A story of human struggles on a world with alien biology that must be understood to remove the threat to the future existence of humankind. Early explorers inadvertently brought alien microbes to Earth, and they were released by terrorists. Always fatal, the infection spreads rapidly while the research team is away on the alien planet. Only Stan and Selene can save Earth but they are trapped on the alien planet.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Dec 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9780987755216

Book preview

Biography

Introduction

While this book is entirely a work of fiction, the basic thesis is probably correct that our planet’s most primitive genetic material originated from parasitic single-celled organisms that became incorporated as our genes with their now much transformed organelles acting today as our modern chromosomes. The hypothesis of this book is that the same process began on the far-away planet, but the single-celled organisms never became incorporated into the alien planet’s genetic material. So there is no sex on this planet, but complex organisms have developed with both reproduction and a history of evolution. What would happen when our two very different biologies mix?

The story is also based on situations that can and do occur on field trips to distant and dangerous places. People fall in love, get angry, go berserk (rarely, but sometimes), make amazing discoveries, have scary adventures, work hard, and get frustrated. The career scientist can be a strange mix of brilliant and stupid, humanly empathetic, or empty of passion. Their personal lives can be great or messy, while their professional lives can seem to be impeccable — about like most people.

The story and the thesis of the story is intended to be a platform for discussion and speculation. It is also intended to be the first of a series of volumes exploring many aspects of life now and in the the future, all based on the reality of our natural world and the properties of the universe as we know them today, but pushed beyond what we normally see and experience.

Acknowledgements

Although books spring from the mind and hand of the author, many other people have shaped that mind and hand. I am indebted to all those who over the years have contributed to the knowledge and experience base from which I wrote this book.

In particular I thank my wife, Frances, for continuing support and lending a sympathetic ear to my long ramblings about the nature of our world and the imperfect knowledge we have of it. Together we often marvel at the small bit of nature that encloses us, and recognize how different life on other planets might be.

My thanks to those who read early versions of this book, particularly our children, Kitty and Tim, whose comments, enthusiasm, and support have been invaluable and unflagging. Ruby Cler, my diving colleague in helping to film TV documentaries about the underwater world, read an early draft of the book, correcting errors and suggesting changes in the development of the story. Science fiction buff and fanzine author Kathleen Dailey was kind enough to critique an early draft, helpfully suggesting changes to the development of the character profiles.

The front cover is derived from a photograph I took of our friend Gwenevere Beukeboom. The title page illustrations are a mix of my photographs and post production efforts, sometimes including Gwen as a part of the image. The last title page is a picture taken by my wife Frances, of me looking over one of our ponds. Images from space are courtesy of NASA and cooperating agencies. Many can be found at this website. I used images that were prepared by JPL-Caltrech, NASA, University of Virginia, CXC/Univ. of Maryland, NRAO/AUI/NSF, Space Science Institute, and Janice Haney Carr at CDC. Of special note, the NASA blue marble image of planet Earth is a composite work: NASA Goddard Space Flight Center Image by Reto Stöckli (land surface, shallow water, clouds). Enhancements by Robert Simmon (ocean color, compositing, 3D globes, animation). Data and technical support: MODIS Land Group; MODIS Science Data Support Team; MODIS Atmosphere Group; MODIS Ocean Group Additional data: USGS EROS Data Center (topography); USGS Terrestrial Remote Sensing Flagstaff Field Center (Antarctica); Defense Meteorological Satellite Program (city lights). Our son, Tim,(Principal and Creative Director, Visible Media Inc and our granddaughter Sarah provided much intense advice on graphic design and typography, teaching me to develop the imagery on the book’s cover. Both are skilled and patient teachers, as well as acknowledged experts in their fields, and to them I give grateful thanks.

Starship Returns

Chapter 1

STARSHIP RETURNS: LIFE FOUND!

Headlines flashed onto the screen Selene was scanning idly during the break between interviews. Quickly she flipped an intercom button to postpone the next interview for a few minutes. Reading rapidly, she absorbed the remainder of the news flash. As a biologist in the space agency, she was convinced that the odds in favour of the presence of life on other planets should be overwhelming. Somehow, however, all the planets in the earth’s immediate solar system had proven to be utterly devoid of any signs of extraterrestrial life. In fact, her position had become something of a private joke among the other agency scientists, all of whom were physicists, chemists, or some other useful science. That she had managed to convince the Space Agency’s bureaucracy yet another biologist was needed on her staff caused not a little rancor among the already short-staffed project leaders. It had been her personal faith, not any clear evidence of life-forms in other galactic systems that had given her the confidence to present her proposal to the committee deciding which projects would be on the pioneering trips of the first star ships to leave the earth’s familiar solar system.

She based her proposal on the alarm that scientists expressed long before starships when the first astronauts returned from the moon, and later from Mars: what if they returned infected with resistant, primitive forms of life? Would these become parasitic on earth and cause devastating havoc? But no epidemics had occurred, and in fact, after the first few Mars expeditions, the agency stopped bothering to quarantine the astronauts.

Selene’s presentation pointed out quite correctly that on entering an entirely new solar system, we were likely to find planets far more suitable for life forms similar to ours than on the other planets in our solar system. She described several novel ideas for long-term quarantines, and also for using living antibiotic agents. As she left the room to await the committee’s decision, she knew the presentation had been extremely well-done. So when they called her back and informed her they decided not to fund her proposal, she was shocked, angry, and frustrated. As a preliminary to the first manned star flights, a series of unmanned probes had been sent to collect information on the new solar system. The first of these found free oxygen, water, and organic compounds in the atmosphere of one of the planets. Almost immediately a memo appeared on her desk demanding to know what steps she had taken to ensure that the earth would not be contaminated. Her reply took less than five seconds to prepare: Nothing. No money!

A phone call from the Director, an account number with funds in it, and notification that her earlier proposal for extra staff members had been approved came within an hour of her return memo. Selene could not suppress a satisfied chuckle as she read the first words of the Star ship commander: An Eden as no biblical scholar could describe. Infinitely more pastoral and green than the earth herself, a place of incredible peace. The land teems with wild animals of unfamiliar form, and the sea is a deep cobalt blue.

The same kind of glowing emotion flowed through the words of the early explorers in the new continents of earth. Although the commander said a great deal more, two words rang clearly in her mind: … an Eden.

Savouring the words and vivid impressions her mind painted, she frowned slightly when the impatient buzz of the intercom interrupted.

John Cabot, Christopher Columbus; all these early explorers had the same penchant for exaggeration! she thought lazily as she opened the circuit to allow speech.

Her dreamy state of mind shattered with the words: Dr. Walters of the Science Council is waiting – not very patiently – to see you!

Selene stretched her long, slim arms over her head, tightening up the muscles, and threw her long, wavy brown hair over the back of the chair. She was still enjoying the pull of muscles under her breasts and along her arms when she realized that she was not the only one enjoying it.

Beautiful! Half teasing, half leering, Dr. Edmund (Ted) Walters, made no attempt to cover his frank gaze.

Selene nearly gave away the start he had given her, but managed to hide it by moving forward deliberately to pick up a pen lying on the desk, and not looking away from him. She answered with a flat: Thank you. Won’t you have a seat?

So you are Dr. Selene Mellifer, he said, neither sitting down nor releasing her from his gaze. Not at all the picture that I had painted for me, said he with relish. Almost arrogant, he leaned forward, placing his slender, strong hands on the desk in front of her. As he looked down on her, he casually hooked a chair with his foot and drew it up behind him. Ted Walters was a medium-sized man who always gave the impression of being several inches taller than he really was. As he sat down, he betrayed a trace of nervousness by brushing at his stiff, curly black hair, a small detail which did not escape Selene’s notice. Ted’s reaction was predictable. He pulled one of his feet across a knee in a gesture of confidence.

Your application for the position of ethologist on my staff stated that you had studied at the Max Planck Institute in Germany, and that the position you now hold is Head of the Department of Animal Psychology of the Science Council in Brazil. What is your reason for wanting to leave a post like that? This one is at a lesser rate of pay and lower rank.

Selene’s question was calculated; she knew a little of the background of the situation in Brazil. The answer that Ted Walters gave would have to be an honest one for her to consider him any further, but if it was honest, he was undoubtedly the best choice for the job. Glancing up from her page, she looked straight into his dark eyes.

The confidence that had been Ted’s a moment earlier ebbed visibly as he took a new measure of the tall, auburn-haired young woman sitting quietly, watching him carefully and waiting for his answer. Ted’s mind worked swiftly: Could this beautiful girl sitting in front of me so seriously now, know what that question means to me?

He had been utterly frustrated in his attempts to do the kind of research he wanted in Brazil. That government insisted he work on essentially stupid programs for which the answers were already available in the scientific literature, but which the so-called resource managers, mostly minor civil servant bureaucrats, did not, or could not, read. The few that did read, seemed to have too little wit to see how to apply the knowledge that to Ted was there for the taking. His early successes in applying what to him had been obvious answers quickly gained him an unwanted ascendancy. He became an administrator of research rather than a researcher.

She must know of my carrying on with virtually every girl in the place, he thought. Maybe that was really a measure of my frustration. I just wanted to be thrown out. The problem was, he mused ruefully. I was too good at solving the problems they needed solved, so they didn’t throw me out.

Finally he said to her: Dr. Mellifer, at heart I am a scientist. I need to understand and to search for knowledge. I thrive on discovering the unknown. Being a bachelor with no family responsibilities has allowed me to do just that. I am a man who enjoys adventure and the excitement of research. I am certainly not an administrator, despite the title I seem unhappily to have acquired. He resisted any comments about women and about the woman he faced, sensing this would be an error.

Now it was Selene who took a second look at the quiet, serious face before her. She had expected a flippant or arrogant answer and had not got it. Rather, the answer bit to the core of her own frustration; she too was a scientist forced into the role of administrator. She too missed the excitement of discovery. Almost a year had passed since she had truly been able to work on her favourite problems of the mechanisms of evolution. Her eyes fell away from his and moved to the paper on her desk, her hair falling around her cheeks, framing her face.

What makes you think your area of research would be of any interest to the Space Agency? After all you work on animal psychology, she asked.

Ten minutes ago the question would have been difficult to answer, but now Ted pounced, his confidence had returned quickly. I am guessing, now that the expedition has returned a success, that the Space Agency will have the guts to send another probe to the stars, and furthermore this time they will need to send a crew of biologists, physicists, and chemists, rather than super-pilots and PR men. He paused briefly then plunged ahead. The description that came over the wire while I was in the anteroom was hopelessly useless drivel. His face was a picture of disdain. If another ship goes, I want to be a member of that crew!

Selene threw him a quick sidelong glance: her reaction to the announcement by the ship’s crew had been quite different, and for a moment she was annoyed at his reaction. Then she realized that the man in front of her had sliced through the same glowing reports, and read in them the need for a positive reaction.

He continued: In fact, the ideal biological team would be three people; an ethologist, an ecologist, and an expert in evolutionary mechanisms. All three need to have experience in both whole animal and tissue level research. With that we could solve any problem.

Selene thought the most important word he had used was ‘team’. No other scientist she had interviewed had used it. Sparks flashed from his dark eyes in anticipation of her reaction. Before she could say anything, a light glowed redly on her desk. Jamming a finger down on the ‘open circuit’ button, she turned a fingernail slightly.

A demanding voice cut through: I have a hundred reporters pounding on my desk wanting to know the answers to a thousand questions. Come down here right away!

Yes Sir! she said, nursing the tender fingernail. A little petulantly she turned to Ted Walters and said: Come on Dr. Walters, newly appointed head of the Space Agency’s Department of Ethology, let’s see how well you do in the line of fire!

The Director? he asked.

Yes. By now she was on her feet, and already moving quickly and gracefully out of the room.

Hey, wait! And thanks! He felt a little silly for the last comment, but she threw a quick smile back to him. Jumping up, he strode out the door after her, expecting to catch up easily, but found her smooth stride was an easy match for his. As they approached the Director’s office, the noise of many voices created a distressing buzzy roar. The reporters were obviously annoyed.

This way, she said. We’ll slip in through the library. The board room has a side-door entrance. She opened the board room door quickly and Ted stepped in ahead of her in a gesture that was almost defensive. Suddenly realizing the reporters were not yet into this room and that he had made a tactical error, he immediately sidestepped and held the door for Selene. She did not mistake his intentions however, and was a little amused at his action.

The Director was obviously very upset and demanded: Who are you?

Selene walked forward and gestured for Ted to close the door quickly. Meet Dr. Edmund Walters. I just now hired him as head of the Ethology Department, and …

Ted Walters from Brazil? Again the voice was demanding, his eyes caught and held Ted’s. Well if the bloody noise outside is any indication of things to come, we should be able to keep you busy enough that your nose will stay cleaner here than it did in Brazil.

Ted was flabbergasted that in one sentence the man could indicate acceptance of Selene’s decision, the knowledge of his indiscretions and both the cause and its cure. Why did a fellow like this need help from a scientist in facing a mere group of reporters?

With a tired gesture, the Director seated the scientists, one on each side so they faced the door in a semi-circle. He pushed a button and growled to his secretary: Send the mob in!

The door burst open and a crowd surged forward, everyone jostling for the front and all of them shouting: Mr. Director! Mr. Director! Mr. Director!

Ted glanced at the Director and found he was sweating visibly, quite unsure how to handle a mob scene. So, thought Ted. Here is why he needs help. He can deal with reasonable people one at a time, but not with chaos. With a deliberate and exaggerated gesture, Ted raised his arms and faked a huge yawn complete with a deep sigh, and very slowly rose to his feet. By the time he had risen completely, there was a silent group watching him including a very surprised Director.

Good afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen of the Press, Ted began in a new loud tenor voice. You have chosen a particularly good time to come to the Space Agency; we have just received news of the imminent arrival of the Starship. I am sure you all have many questions, but they are probably all very similar. This man standing directly in front of me will be your spokesman to begin the questioning.

With this comment he looked and leaned straight forward. The fellow quickly took a half step backwards. There was a rising voice of protest, but Ted had evolved this method of beginning an interview that threatened to become unruly.

And, he recalled silently, I certainly had a few that could have been most awkward!

You have five minutes … this time he spoke in a quiet, but no-nonsense voice. He spoke quietly enough that only some of the reporters would be able to hear clearly what he had said, but the others would know he said something. The unexpected quiet resumed and he continued: … to prepare a written question which you may pass to the spokesman. He then has a further two minutes to assemble them into five significant questions.

Without pause he continued so all could hear. Dr. Mellifer, the Director, and I were discussing a critical question which we will pursue for the next five minutes in the adjoining library. Your spokesman may summon us when he is ready.

Ted knew that he, Selene and the Director had to be out of the room in about three seconds flat for this to work. As soon as had finished his last syllable, he pulled the chair back for the Director and took Selene’s arm, helping her quickly out of her chair.

The arrogant Son of a …

Who is that guy?

The closing door cut off the last of the reporter’s words. Selene was already laughing and the Director, to whom Ted had yet to be properly introduced was standing there with his mouth open.

A seat, Sir? said Ted with a hugely exaggerated bow.

Selene?

They sat down around a huge oak slab piled with tapes and books, Ted and Selene on one side, the Director on the other. Ted mutely indicated the Director had the floor.

Why? was all he said.

Ted chuckled: Two things. First, it establishes us as dominant in the room, and prevents a free-for-all from developing immediately. But the real reason I did it was because I wanted to know what you want them to know and what you don’t want them to know. We can guess some of the questions will be about the health of the crew, arrival times, and other things they already know but want us to say for their microphones. The critical questions will be the ones like: ‘What have they found?’ ‘What precautionary measures are being used to prevent contamination of the earth? And what are the plans for future research?’ The problems of contamination are not solved yet, but I presume we mustn’t let them know that?

He canted his head quizzically but did not wait for an answer. Let me answer that one. I will tell them the basic principles of sterilization and quarantine, such as flame sterilization re-entry, air lock trap door systems for recovery of tools and non-biological samples, the elaborate system for whole ship quarantine and so on. He smiled at their skeptical looks. I’ve been reading up! Anyway, despite using the best antibiotics and parasitological tests you’ve got, we can probably assume that something will get by unless the quarantine is long enough. He paused for emphasis.

With your permission, I am going to suggest that the members of the first crew remain in quarantine for something in the order of a year, and that they be trained to do something useful during that time – like analyze the biological samples. That way there is a minimum risk! He stopped and waited for the refusal, but it did not come.

Six minutes. Let’s go back early. This usually catches them off guard.

With a flourish, he threw open the door into the room where the reporters were arguing about which questions should be asked. Taking Ted’s cue, the Director strode ceremoniously to his spacious desk. Both Ted and Selene followed and sat down on either side of him. The hubbub subsided, but a small knot still whispered intensely at the spokesman.

The Director began: "Ladies and Gentlemen of the Press. Thank you for taking the time to visit the Space Agency today. Let me briefly review what the program has been to date. Ten years ago, we discovered how to harness nuclear fusion to a spaceship intended to travel at high velocities among the planets of our solar system. The development was a tremendous success, but strange aberrations in the performance of this ship were noticed when the speeds it achieved reached about half the speed of light. There was also an apparent barrier to travelling any faster than 0.52 times the speed of light. The barrier was at first postulated as being analogous to the sound barrier and was dubbed the light barrier. It was in a sense more of a time barrier. When the nature of the phenomenon was understood, it turned out to be a key discovery which allowed us to relate time, matter, energy and velocity in what a mathematician would perhaps term hyperspace: a jargon term which simply means an abstract system in which there may be more than the usual four dimensions. Hard to visualize, and it is most easily handled in a computer in the form of a matrix. Oddly enough the trick was to use the fusion power to hugely alter the electromagnetic configuration of the ship. Without being technical, the ship was bucking a time-energy-mass confluence, and by gradually adjusting the charge on the outer layer of molecules on the skin of the ship, we were able to slip her through the barrier.

"Instead of being able simply to increase her speed, as in the case of the sound barrier, she actually altered all of the states in which the warp occurred. Thus the mass, energy and most important of all in the sense of travel, the time axis were altered. Depending on how the charge was altered on the ship, the time axis was one of the most seriously affected. And thus was born the ability to make star travel possible.

The first Starship has been on her maiden voyage for an equivalent time of about four hundred years at twenty five percent of light speed, but because she was able to shortcut the distance axis by running down the time axis, the actual time away has only been … he glanced at the digital clock on his desk which had been set at the time of lift off of the star ship. " … 45 days, 19 hours, 17 minutes and 32 seconds!

She has travelled an equivalent distance of over 36 light years, as the crow flies, he chuckled at his little joke, and is due to land in about 15 hours. During almost the whole time she was gone, we had no way of contacting her because we have as yet not discovered how to direct electromagnetic signals down the time axis.

Ted and Selene both noticed the restlessness of the reporters; they had heard most of this speech before.

The Director continued: The crew have reported life of a highly developed nature, if not actually intelligent, on one of the planets in the solar system they visited.

Then he sat back. Three reporters immediately jumped up and shouted: Mr. Director, can you tell us…? What does …? When is…?

As they did so, Ted put one hand up to quiet the speakers and placed the other on the papers in front of the Director as a signal not to answer. He stood up, pointedly ignoring the imperious voices, and looking at the man he had appointed as spokesman, held out his hand for the sheet of paper on which were the five questions the man had assembled.

The first question, Ted commented as he ruffled the paper, has to do with the points the Director has just finished summarizing except for the request for the names of the stars and planets visited. As the Director has pointed out, the ship has been out of touch since entering hyper-time and we are just now collecting the data from her banks of tapes even before she lands.

The Director bent to the desk, and with practiced fingers, typed in the code words: Starship starfalls on the computer console. Instantly the names of the four stars appeared on the screen. He pivoted the screen for the reporters to see. While some scribbled down the information and some mumbled into pocket tape recorders, Ted read the next question.

Fundamentalist religious leaders accuse the crew of fabricating evidence for the existence of life on planets of other suns. Eminent scientists around the world have denied the possibility of life anywhere else, because no evidence was found on any of the planets in our solar system. The Space Agency would probably collapse if you had not found life on this trip: what proof can you provide that the life claimed to have been seen is truly extraterrestrial?

Dr. Mellifer? Ted visibly handed the floor to Selene.

Without hesitation, but in a gentle voice, she said: Religion often seems to manufacture its own persecution when in fact none exists. The presence of life of any form on planets other than our own or in any other solar system, for that matter, does not in any way impinge on the beliefs of religions. Creation, evolution, mythologies rarely speak of life on other worlds, other than in ‘heaven and hell’, and that is derived from our earth. That an eminent scientist would deny the existence of extraterrestrial life before examining the evidence does nothing but prove that the scientist is not worthy of the name ‘scientist.’ As for proof, even I do not know if the life forms are extraterrestrial until I examine them. But, I must say, that planet is a long way off, and I can’t imagine how animals and plants would get from here to there, so they are most likely extraterrestrial. As to the Space Agency folding if there was no life found on the trip? That’s ridiculous! The money behind the Agency doesn’t really care about other life forms. If for no other reason than the possibility of finding a pot of gold somewhere out there in the great beyond, the Agency would be kept alive by private and government support.

Leaning back, obviously relieved at the ease with which she had found an answer, she glanced at the Director.

The third question? came the voice of the Director.

The third question, answered Ted is again one I think Dr. Mellifer is best qualified to answer. It is: ‘In the event that the Space Agency is granted money for another trip, who will be the passengers and crew, and what will be the objective of the expedition?’ Dr. Mellifer, he said gesturing to her to take the floor.

Once again, Selene leaned forward, this time an expression of eagerness on her face. Part of the answer to that question of course depends on the results actually obtained by the crew, but from my point of view, and I imagine most everyone else’s, the single most important discovery is what the first call from the star ship announced: ‘Life exists on another planet.’ And from the descriptions, lots of life, in well-organized and highly evolved forms.

She hesitated, her eyes sparkled with her own imaginations; and with a toss of her head unconsciously announced she was about to say things never before discussed, she said in a near whisper to an absolutely quiet audience: Life exists on another planet! Life! The essence of all that we as humans hold dear to our souls. Perhaps, as I reflect on it, it is no wonder the religious leaders were a little worried.

Her voice rose a little and she leaned further forward to plunge ahead with the words: We will go back to discover the origin of that life. It may mean a year’s time in space, but it would easily be worth the effort. Imagine if there were intelligent life, a culture, social structure, all independently arisen? What if the very basis of the life were other than carbon, and yet all of the biological organization we thought of as our own were to be found there? It would imply that the same principles of evolution apply all over the universe! The implications of that are both exciting and overwhelmingly dangerous. Mankind must be prepared either for what may be the greatest responsibility – meeting other cultures or on the other hand for defending himself against who-knows-what might have evolved out there in the darkness of the infinite!

No one moved.

Ted’s voice was theatrical in the stillness, The fourth question is as follows: ‘Since the early planetary explorations, the apparent lack of life on the planets has been used as an excuse not to take any precautions against the possibility of contamination of the earth through the introduction of foreign and potentially pathological organisms, to say nothing of introducing something that could compete ecologically with our own life forms and eventually take over. What precautions have been instituted in the case of the returning Star ship which obviously does harbour life forms?’ "

Before Ted could get started on this one, the Director interrupted abruptly to say: Aside from the mechanical sterilization techniques Dr. Walters will explain to you, there is a series of quarantine procedures which will be in operation for the landing.

Ted felt he had just had the topping stolen off his ice cream sundae, but smiled to himself, because he now understood why the Director was what he was.

The Director continued: You know that on re-entry the outer skin of the Star ship is searingly white hot and that no life form we can even imagine could survive. The problem of contaminating the entire ocean by opening the hatch on splash down is now obviated by the fact that the ships can land within a specified area on the ground. We still use the old lake bed where the original Columbia first set down. In the case of our Star ship, a special system has been developed so that once the ship is on the ground it will remain sealed until transported to a low pressure hangar, isolated from the earth’s atmosphere. Only then will the hatch be opened to allow the crew to exit. That building, Ladies and Gentlemen, is directly behind us.

He paused for effect.

And the crew will be quarantined for an entire year!

He was forced to stop by the exclamations which followed this announcement. Finally the noise abated enough and he went on: They will perform the analysis of the biological samples and their families will be given the opportunity, after an initial quarantine of two weeks, to enter the facilities and live with them. Dr. Walters, do you wish to add to the answer?

Not just now, said Ted, a crooked grin on his face. May I suggest that interested members of the press accompany me after the interview to the lobby of the quarantine hangar, where I can show them the facilities?

The fifth question was never asked because just at that moment, a quiet, but insistent siren began to ring from the Director’s computer terminal. Reflexively, he reached out and smashed his hand down on the switch to transfer the computer to audio. The voice of an excited, but controlled operator boomed out of a loudspeaker overhead: Mr. Director, this is Starship Control. The Captain reports damage to the life support system in the ship due to meteor contact. He also doubts the landing rockets will fire to full power. They apparently did not get a direct hit, but the meters read inoperative. They are working on override. Requests permission to dump in the ocean.

Permission denied! he shot back. Report the time available on the life support systems. There was not even a trace of anxiety in the Director’s voice. This was the stuff of his career.

Again the excited voice: Ship due in 14 hours on schedule, life support systems available for 20 hours at 100%, 28 hours at 50%, and 38 hours at 25%.

Instruct the Captain to close down support systems to25% until further notice and plan for touchdown in 35 hours. Place two crew on landing procedures. All the rest of the crew to their quarters.

He rose to his feet and was apparently slightly confused at seeing the reporters still there in front of him. He looked first at Selene, then at Ted, not quite sure what to do with the reporters.

Ted stood up and said in a very loud voice above the rising din: Ladies and Gentlemen, we have an emergency. As you can see, the Director is now extremely busy. Follow me immediately to the quarantine hangar please. We can stay informed of the events aboard the ship from the lobby.

Spinning to face Selene, he rasped: Get him out of here! Quickly, he pulled on the Director’s arm, urging him to leave.

Decontamination Procedures

Chapter 2

It was two-thirty in the afternoon when a badly hung-over and aching body rolled over in response to the ringing of a telephone beside the bed. His hand was clumsy, but not shaking when he picked up the receiver and grumbled into the phone: Mmmff. H’llo. Whaddyou want?

Good afternoon, Dr. Warren, said the silken voice. Did you have a nice evening? I hope so, because I didn’t!

The voice was rising now and becoming a little shrill. Stan, you are a rotten slob! What’s the big idea leaving me at the party with the story about meeting a client at the office? I thought that went out with the 1950 movies. And don’t ask how I found out where you’re sleeping it off! I just hope you like the company you’re keeping, because you can just keep on keeping it!

By now she was yelling and crying at the same time. Stan pulled the telephone receiver away from his ear to avoid the predictable crash as she slammed it down at the other end. Careful not to move his head too quickly, he obeyed her implied instructions to find out just who was sharing his room. To his chagrin, there was no one with him in the bed and no evidence that anyone else had ever been there. Somewhat stupidly, he put the receiver back to his ear and for a second couldn’t figure out what the buzzing noise was. Suddenly annoyed at himself and the situation, he quickly smashed the receiver down and leapt out of bed. A sharp stabbing pain lashed out at his temples and at the back of his head, followed almost instantly by distinctly blurred vision. Gritting his teeth, he sat back on the bed and waited for the torture to subside. Then with great care he rose to his feet and headed for the shower. As he turned on the taps, it occurred to him that the beautiful girl who had just told him to get lost was Shirley, and he didn’t want her to tell him to get lost, and he had definitely not told her he was meeting a client.

Forgetting the shower, he picked up the towel, maneuvered carefully back to the telephone, and dialed her apartment number.

Shirley! he said desperately. I didn’t do anything wrong!" The telephone slammed down at the other end.

Owww! he moaned. But he picked out the numbers again and waited while the phone rang three times. Finally Shirley answered tentatively: Hello?

Speaking rapidly, Stan said: You and Ted Walters brought me here last night. He waited for the phone to slam down again, but it didn’t. Are you there, Shirley?

No! came the quick reply. Slam.

Well, I guess I can’t expect more than that just now, thought Stan. He returned to the shower stall, now in a complete fog from having been left on full hot. Stan Warren was a very large man, nearly six foot four and well over two hundred and twenty pounds. His heavy frame carried well-toned muscles that seemed to stay powerful regardless of the disgraceful lack of attention he gave them. His sun-bleached, light brown hair glistened with minute reddish jewels of condensing mist from the hot shower. Despite his present hung-over condition, he moved as gracefully as a cat, muscles rippling as he worked in the soap and later dried off with a towel. He managed to shave with only minor difficulties, and headed for the Space Agency.

He stopped at the hotel desk to pay his bill. The desk clerk was not amused. No way Sam would’ve let him leave you last night after he practically had to carry you in, if he hadn’t paid in advance. You were in real bad shape!

Feeling more than a little embarrassed, Stan left the hotel lobby as fast as his unstable head would allow and hailed a cab. To the Space Agency, he said.

The cabby said immediately in an uncomfortably loud voice: Have you heard the latest news on the Starship? Without waiting for an answer, he said: She’s disabled and can’t land on the ground, but the Director of the Space Agency won’t give her permission to come down on the water. Afraid she’ll infect the ocean when they open the hatch. And the ship’s oxygen, or something, is only good for a few hours. Boy, is he somethin’ else! What’s he expect them to do?

Better hurry! Stan did not bother to answer the Cabby’s questions, but a constant welter of thoughts roiled around in his head. "God, can Walters ever drink! Why not drop her in the water and sling her closed onto a ship? Shirley and I have been seeing each other for about two weeks and already she figures she owns me. Crash-land onto an airstrip. Shirley is beautiful. Wonder what happened to Walters after I ‘left’ the party. Hah, he probably ran off with Shirley. What can be wrong with the Starship? Oh, the landing rockets; so they can still manoeuvre into an orbit for a water landing. But land on the ground?

Ted and Shirley? ‘Don’t ask me how I knew where you were sleeping it off…’ Wow, with no way out the Captain of the Starship will just do what he wants when it comes to the crunch! Ooooh, those tacos don’t feel so good now. Hey, why not catch her in a giant helicopter cradle and fly her back to the quarantine hangars? I wonder if she would have gone with Ted last night – and then called to give me a hard time this morning? He sure was persistent. If she was mad and feeling guilty too …"

Eight dollars and sixty cents, Mister. The cabby had one of the long door handles welded onto the regular handle and opened the door a little for Stan. He handed the man a ten dollar bill and got out. He was in a hurry and not looking forward to the reception he would get right away for choosing today of all days to be both extremely late, and decidedly disreputable looking. Stan mused that he always seemed to lead with his chin, so why not continue to get broken jaws, at least he knew how to deal with them.

Bursting into the reception area of the Director’s office, he called out to the secretary as he strode in: Am I too late?

You look like you were last night! she answered.

Oh Oh! That bad, eh?

As he reached the desk, she stood up and reaching across the desk, straightened his tie for him. Not everyone gets this treatment, but you look like you need some attention before the Director gets to you!

From behind them, a voice rasped: Yaah, and where the hell were you this morning when everything went to pot? Fortunately, Walters bailed us out of part of the mess!

The Director stopped to stare at the two of them: Mary, fifty-five and proper, straightening the tie of a huge, rumpled young scientist. My God! he said, how in the name of something did you find your way out of whatever it was you were into? A pause. Never mind, just get out of my hair until your head is functioning. He turned on his heel and started back for his inner office.

Catch her in a sling between the bodies of a couple of folding-wing military VTO’s! called Stan to his back.

The words: Drop dead! were followed by the slam of a door. Almost immediately the door re-opened and the figure of the Director appeared again. That work?

Might.

The door slammed again. Stan turned to leave and looking down said: Thank you, Mary.

He had not made it to his office when the voice of Ted Walters caught him: Hey, Stan… How d’ya feel this morning?

Stan stopped, turned around slowly and looking down into Ted Walter’s black eyes, said quietly: Shirley.

There was not much of a reaction, but it was enough that he knew he had guessed correctly. Without another word, he turned back and started walking again into his office.

Ted’s voice followed him: Hey, what’s the matter with you? I just took her home after you passed out.

Sure, thought Stan. Ted Walters never ‘just took’ any girl home! Do I ever believe that!

Ted was just getting to his desk to confront Stan on his accusation, when the Director’s voice came over the communicator: Warren, pick up your anti-bug gear and I’ll meet you at the entrance to the quarantine hangars. The fly-boys think they can do it, but they need four planes, not two. Starship is due to an acceptable trajectory in two hours. If you can locate Walters send him along. If not, get Selene to find him.

Coming, Walters in tow. Turning to Ted he said: I gather you got hired on as ethologist. Can’t imagine why he feels you would be needed in the quarantine area.

I handled the press, Ted answered noncommittally. The walk to the main laboratory was silent. With a minimum of words the two picked up the needed equipment and headed outside. Stan was still smoldering, but held his emotions in check, knowing that he was still very much in the doghouse with the Director, and that he had to assess his position with Ted Walters very carefully, especially now that the two of them were to work together. At least for now, he had a job to do. The hangars were about a mile from the main building, and as the two men stepped out of the guarded doors at the rear of the Space Agency headquarters, sunlight splashed off the brilliantly anodized aluminum domes of the distant buildings making Stan wince.

An open jeep drove up and the driver called out: Hop in Doc, the Director’s waitin’ for you.

Both men hopped in over the rear wheel. The combination of the bright sun and sudden effort caused an internal storm in Stan’s head. He tried to conceal the effects of the previous evening, but could not help noticing the slow grin cross Ted’s face. As they pulled onto a platform just outside the hangar, a guard stepped forward and asked to see their passes. He and Stan knew each other well, but knew the ritual was required, so Stan held out his card. Ted held out a temporary permit, which the guard took from him, examined closely, then handed back, Stan secretly hoping the guard would find something wrong with it. But he didn’t. Instead he pushed a button on the wall near where he had been sitting and a door slid open. The jeep pulled into the building and the door jerked shut behind them. The jeep moved slowly along a corridor on a conveyor belt. Stan knew the area well, but Ted was new to it, and his mind was kept occupied by mentally cataloguing everything he saw. A set of plastic doors glided apart as they approached, and on the other side, still another guard waved them on past. The conveyor belt shunted them onto a sloping platform, and all three men jumped out of the jeep, which continued on its own and disappeared around a corner, to be deposited outside for the men to pick up on their way back.

The Director is on the top level, sir, said the guard. He said to send you right up.

They stepped off the elevator and walked into a very ordinary office. Obviously set up for communications, the room positively crackled, and several taut men stood at habitual attention. Another intense man was bent over the shoulder of the Director. Everyone but the Director looked up at their entrance, he merely growled and asked: What were you saying?

The officer who had been leaning over his shoulder quickly returned to the explanation of the operation as he thought it should be carried out. It took him about two minutes of rapid speech and quick finger-jabs at the diagrams in front of the two of them to complete what he had been saying. As he straightened up the other men stiffened into even more upright positions. Both Ted and Stan were by now lounging at opposite sides of the room. Stan was looking out the window resting his head on one hand, but Ted was analyzing the activities of the men in the room and had already plotted accurately the rank they held, even though none wore a uniform.

Dr. Walters. Dr. Warren. Meet the elite of the 17th wing, Commanding Officer Brooks, Squadron Leaders Lomeli and Jackson, and naval officer Lieutenant Commander Green, the Director introduced them. We have a lot of work to do in the next two hours. The Starship said the life support system is failing at an exponential rate, not linear, so the previous calculations on the available time were all wrong. He paused as he noticed Stan’s position shift, but went on: These men from the air force and navy are in charge of Operation Take-Down. Any questions or comments from anyone?

Exponential decay in the life support systems implies an organism population of some sort building up. What’s the critical factor they are losing?

Oxygen’s going down like mad, but they have rigged a supply from the fuel tanks. Strangely… CO2 is almost absent from the internal atmosphere.

Anything else? asked Stan.

Carbon monoxide is building up and will overload the scrubbing systems in about two hours. That’s the one we consider critical right now! He paused again. So?

Nothing yet. Still thinking.

Okay, let’s go, said the Director after a long pause.

Ted found himself tagging along with Stan almost because he wasn’t sure what else he should do. They paused at a door and Stan, in spite of his unstable emotions, felt he wanted to show the new man the open tube in the hangar into