XVI
Group meeting. Beka takes charge.
"Okay. So – what, what've we got…Harper, go."
"Right. Well…ah, the hell with it, I got diddly. These nanobots are hard to kill and even harder to de-code. Every new one generated starts up with it's own security protocols, which means I'd have to reprogramme all six billion of 'em just to slow them down. I mean, this is really tricky tech we're dealing with. If you gave me ten days and a whole lot of Sparky, I might just be able to –"
"Okay, we get the picture. Trance, what sort of time schedule are we looking at?"
Trance frowns unhappily.
"It's taken five days for the virus to open up a wound the size of my hand…" She holds one up to demonstrate. "…but the nanobots have hit bone now. By my calculations, once they reach Dylan's lungs and organs they'll begin spreading exponentially – he'll be on life support in three days."
There's a lot of blinking and sinking in. Beka nods firmly.
"Right. That's bad. But now we know the bad, so we can start dealing with it. Rommie, you said you had…"
"…some information on Leper10, yes. Dylan was correct – it's of Kalderan origin, but it's an older incurable version of a virus they now use called TZ131. Apparently, Leper10 didn't offer enough suitable applications for wartime use –"
Beka looks aghast.
"What, it pulls people apart, but it has no wartime applications?"
"Of course – the disease's use is limited by its controllability." Tyr has stepped forward. "The Kalderans are opportunists. Leper10 has no antidote. Why kill someone outright when you could infect them and then promise a cure? Money, assets, unconditional surrender – all these things could be worked to the Kalderans advantage if they had a more controllable disease with which to wage war…hence the upgrade to TZ131."
Rommie nods.
"Exactly. But Leper10 still has its uses apparently – as a teaser for Kalderan colonial interests. The Thebbians were given limited supplies of Leper10, as both threat and reward, in return for allowing the Kalderans to use the other side of the planet as an occasional trade-route drop-off point."
Tyr raises an eyebrow.
"So, Thebbia has strategic value not only to us."
Beka frowns and watches him fold his arms into bulges.
"Tyr, have we got news from the 'Fon Council? Any signs of a reply?"
"No. And I got the impression that we may be kept waiting for a week or more with these heinously slow negotiations. Can I say, at this point, that I hate bowing."
"Duly noted." She chews her lip. "A week is more time than we've got to play with here, people. We need to start thinking laterally… Has anyone got any other ideas?"
The silent chorus of grim faces is her reply.
"Well, goddamnit, we can't just let him die!"
Tyr grimaces.
"If Dylan dies, our chance of securing an agreement with the Xenofon High Council will probably die with him…"
"Thank you, Tyr for pointing out the blindingly obvious, and duly noted. Come on! We need something concrete –"
Harper lifts his eyebrows hopefully.
"If you gave me a sample of TZ131 I might be able to try comparing the programming and find a hole…"
"Oh, sure, Harper – hey, why didn't I think of that. I'll just give you the vial of TZ131 I've got here in my back pocket – or maybe we could zip over to the nearest Kalderan outpost and I'm sure they'd be happy to lend us a sample –"
"Trance holds up a hand.
"Please – can we just not fight about this? It's too important."
"Trance is right." Rommie weighs in. "If we don't work together on this then we stand to lose more than just another strategic Commonwealth ally."
Harper still looks miffed.
"Yeah, well, you can thank our friends the Kalderans and their stupid bio-mechanical poisons for screwing up a perfectly boring parley –"
Tyr has straightened up.
"What did you say?"
"Huh? I said you could thank the Kalderans for –"
"No, no, boy – I know what you said."
He's already started moving towards the doors. Beka looks exasperated.
"But we haven't finished –"
"Give me two hours."
"Tyr!"
His expression is animated, his hand raised by a finger to make his point.
"Poison."
It's a shame that his single word response doesn't provide further enlightenment.
XVII
"Poison? He wants to poison me?"
Beka grins.
"Ah, you know Tyr – anything for a friend."
"Yeah, sure, why not – he's probably wondering why he didn't think of it a long time ago…" Harper catches Dylan's expression and holds up a hand. "Hey – joke. Actually, it's a good idea in theory. We just have to make sure that the execution doesn't go awry."
"Yeah, or it really will be an execution. Mine."
"Look, boss, I know it sounds extremely weird, but there's sound logic behind it all. The 'bots are bio-mechanical, okay? This means they're dormant until they come into contact with a living host – uh, that would be you. Then their programming kicks in and they start munching –"
"Can we just skip to the part about the poison?"
"Oh – right. Sorry, but this bit's important. The 'bots need living organic tissue to keep functioning, otherwise their energy source is gone. I mean, it's not like they can take out their teensy little nanoscopic batteries and get fresh ones – they need hot tissue to keep moving."
Beka pipes up. She's chewing on an apple, which Dylan finds both surreal and somewhat nauseating.
"Trance searched the reference cases and it checked out. Once the victim dies, the virus stops in its tracks. Dead men don't get Leper10. So, there you go."
"There I go – right. So, what – you poison me, I die, the virus goes away. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe that's called 'throwing the baby out with the bathwater'."
Harper grimaces.
"It is? God, that's sick… But anyway – no, look it works like this. We give you a locally administered poison that affects the tissue in and around where the 'bots are snacking. The relevant bits die, the 'bots shut down, we flush 'em out manually, then we give you a whiff of antidote and some really heavy-duty repair shots."
"Sounds like fun."
"Sure. Think about it like…homeopathy. We use a poison to get rid of another poison."
"Fighing fire with fire…"
Dylan's face is less uncertain, but it's hard to tell, under the general pallor, just how he's feeling. Beka puts her apple away and touches his arm.
"Hey – I know this sounds bad, but…well, yeah, I gotta be honest, it's bad. Trance said it'll be rough. You'll be pretty sick. But pretty sick is better, in my book, than pretty dead."
"And this is our only plan?"
Harper nods.
"This is it, boss. These 'bots ate my deprogramming tricks for breakfast; the only other thing I could think of was giving you a massive electric shock to disrupt their energy cells, but there's no way of knowing how they'll respond to that. It could make 'em chew faster…. Plus, y'know, I didn't want you getting any cheap thrills."
"Thanks." Dylan regards him, wan and serious. "So, you think this is my best shot."
Harper takes a breath, takes on the responsibility and nods again.
"Nothing's certain, but…yeah. I think we can predict the outcome better."
"Okay… So what about poisons?"
"Tyr and Trance are cross-checking now. Don't worry – we're not just gonna dose you with rat-bait or something."
"Great."
Beka grins.
"You know, you're lucky."
"I'm lucky? Enlighten me."
"You're lucky because we happen to be parked next to the only planet in the system where the local politicos have elevated the practise of poisoning to an art-form."
"Of course…" Dyan's grin is limp but genuine. "Damn. So here's hoping all that bowing was worth my while."
She winks.
"Here's hoping."