DS02 Night of the Dragonstar (12 page)

It hadn’t been the most pleasant of conversations, Ian thought, but at least the liquor had loosened them up and let the honesty start flowing. He had told her about his problems at home, and his feelings about her (no, he wasn’t in love with her, but he damned well felt
something
for her, and it didn’t feel like mere friendship), and how his wife and family would always be first in his mind, but how he had discovered that he couldn’t be with them twenty-four hours a day (they just didn’t share the same interests or see life as a series of challenges to be overcome, as he did).

Becky too had wanted to get the record straight, and although her sentences came slowly, at times awkwardly, she also succeeded in making herself clear. It was true, she had said, that she’d never met a man like Coopersmith, but it was also true that he was not the man for her (not because of him, but because of her). Her feelings for Phineas had been changing and changing and then changing once again, and she doubted whether her sojourn with Ian in the preserve had really influenced much of anything as far as Colonel Kemp was concerned.

They both agreed that Phineas was a man to be respected, admired even, but a damned hard man to like once you got to know him. It wasn’t just that he was so serious all the time but that he took himself so seriously. He always seemed preoccupied with what everyone was thinking of him, and he forgot to think about those around him.

That was how their conversation went, and when it started to degenerate into a psychoanalytic session, Ian suggested they both retire for the evening. Becky had had enough to drink to slyly signal that Ian would be welcome to spend the night, but he declined more out of fear than out of respect. It was too early in the game to get reinvolved with her
—
it was that simple. He had left Earth to get his thoughts, his priorities, and his career back on the proper paths, and diving into an affair right away would only cloud up the waters.

And so he found himself walking down the empty corridors of Copernicus Base, away from the biomedical wing. He wasn’t sleepy; he was still wired up from the shuttle flight and his confrontations with Phineas and Becky. There had been a lot of excess emotional baggage that needed unloading, and he was feeling better that it had finally been done.

Taking an elevator up to Level One, he walked quickly to an observation bay and looked out across the expanse of the lunar surface. The superstructures of some of the docks, the observatory, and the mass loaders were visible in the dusty silence. There were a few vehicles moving about, kicking up rooster tails of volcanic ash, but it was basically calm and desolate out there. Ian looked up and sought out the floating bulk of the Dragonstar, distant but clearly visible due to its great size.

There was something about the alien ship that wouldn’t let him go. He had always known he would have to return to its mysteries and its essential challenge.

All right now,
he thought.
I’ve come back, you big bugger.

THE PLAN
for the documentary was mapped out by Phineas Kemp and his staff of production advisors far in advance of the actual shooting. He had imagined that a good plan, based upon IASA protocols, would help to avoid many of the usual snafus that accompany filmmaking. A chronological unfolding was decided to be the optimum approach to telling the entire story, and so the early footage, which was shot at Copernicus Base and in space at close proximity to the Dragonstar, went off without much of a hitch.

Phineas was pleased with his crew and the way all the IASA staff were cooperating with what proved to be a massive undertaking. Once the crews had been shipped up to the Dragonstar itself the problems began to make themselves clear.

For all the shots in the Mesozoic preserve, a special film base camp had to be established with a force-field perimeter and a full complement of guards and equipment. Originally planned as a small installation, the film base camp soon grew to rival Mikaela Lindstrom’s paleontological survey camp-the largest IASA installation within the Mesozoic preserve.

Kemp sat in his temporary office in the film base camp, carefully going over the shooting schedule on a portable monitor. If there were no glitches, all the major holography should be finished by the end of the next twenty-four hour period. Editing and postproduction work would not require a large amount of time, and then they would be ready for the live broadcast and the historic meeting of John T. Neville with the Saurians. Kemp was still excited by the project.

His intercom buzzed, and he slapped at the keypad absently. “Yes, Colonel Kemp here.”

“Phineas, this Bob Jakes.”

“Bob! I’ve been meaning to get in touch. Did you get my memo on the film crew?”

“Yes, I got it. In fact they’re already here, setting up in the main lab.”

“Great. Great. Everything’s going okay, I assume?”

“Yes, the crew’s fine, but that’s not what I called about. Something else has come up that you should look into.”

Kemp sank back in his chair. Christ, more bureaucratic stuff to deal with. Becoming an administrator certainly had its drawbacks. “What is it, Bob?”

“You never got back to me on that report Mishima Takamura forwarded to your office
—
the one on the radiation detection and the schizophrenic phenomenon in the Saurian population.”

Phineas was getting lost quickly. “What report are you talking about?”

“You mean you never read it?” Jakes’s voice was a bit strident.

“To tell you the truth, I remember seeing it come in, but with this frigging documentary to finish, I guess I just haven’t gotten around to reading it yet.”

“That report was flagged ‘Eyes Only.’ It was a Level One Priority, and you didn’t get around to reading it? Are you kidding me, Phineas?”

Jakes sounded very upset, and Phineas didn’t want to hear this kind of crap. He’d better cut things off quickly and get to the heart of things. “Listen, Bob, let’s just say I’ve been very busy. Now, if you update me on the report we can get down to cases. What did the report have to say, and what does it have to do with your call at this point?”

Jakes summarized the report as quickly as possible, emphasizing the fears of Thesaurus and the growing suspicions of Mishima Takamura, concluding that he felt the Joint Chiefs should be alerted to the subtle changes being recorded within the Dragonstar’s interior. He also tied in the incident with Lindstrom’s survey team, implying that the film crew might be in danger if there were other mutated species running loose in the preserve.

“We’ve been down here for three days now and have had no problems whatsoever,” Kemp assured him. “Now, what’s the new data?”

“There’s been another incident in the Saurian preserve,” Jakes said.

“What kind of incident?”

“Some sort of mass hysteria thing. Three warrior-class fellows went berserk and killed ten others. It took some time to subdue them.”

“Christ! What happened?”

“The Saurians had them executed, except for one, whom they turned over to us for some tests.” Jakes paused to clear his throat. “We’ve just finished the tests. That’s why I’m calling.”

“Go on, I’m listening,” Kemp said. He was indeed listening, but he did not want to be. The last thing he needed at this point was more problems. He just wanted to get this documentary finished, and then he could deal with anything else the Fates cared to throw his way.

“All right,” Jakes said. “Listen to this. We ran a series of neuroscans on our subject and found that his brain is riddled with tumors.”

“What kind of tumors?”

“Radiological carcinomas,” Jakes said. “There’s evidence that the subject has been exposed to some heavy radiation dosages. This is the same kind of thing Mikaela Lindstrom found with that accelerated growth mutant she encountered.”

Kemp harrumphed loudly. “Look, Bob, I’m no scientist. What the hell does this stuff mean?”

“We’re not sure. We’ve been testing other Saurians, and of course ourselves, and finding no trace of this cell change. Whatever’s going on seems to be a very random kind of activity.”

“Any ideas on what might be causing it?”

“Yes, there are quite a few theories, but none of them sound too good. Takamura’s report mentions the ones that have the highest possibility.”

“Goddamn it, Bob, I didn’t read the frigging report! What do you want me to do, flagellate myself? Now, what the hell do you guys think is going on?”

Jakes paused for a moment, then continued. “I think we’re in the middle of something that the aliens
—
the ones who made this ship
—
built into the works.”

“What does that mean?” Kemp didn’t like the almost reverential tone in Jakes’s voice.

“I mean that things seem to be following some sort of pattern, as though a specific procedure were being followed. Nothing major yet, but lots of little things indicate a change in the status of this ship. And of course there’s the energy burst we detected several weeks back which could have been a response to the signal we triggered when we originally entered this ship.”

Kemp cursed himself for not taking the time to keep up with the day-to-day business aboard the Dragonstar and began to wonder if perhaps he had become a bit too preoccupied with the World Media documentary project.

“Colonel, are you there?”

“Yes, Bob. Sorry, I was just giving this whole thing some thought. Do you have any suggestions?”

“Takamura and I have been talking it over, and we think it might be a good idea to conduct a general evacuation.”

“What? What did you say?”

“Until we can get to the bottom of some of these new events, we were thinking that it might be a good idea to get most of the staff off-ship. We’ve got more than two hundred people on board, and I don’t have to tell you that we’re responsible for their safety.”

“You just did,” Kemp said dryly.

“I’m sorry, Colonel, but this whole thing is very important to me.”

“I appreciate your getting in touch, Bob. But I’m afraid you don’t understand the position I’m in. Evacuating this ship right now would be impossible. The IASA has a contract with World Media for this project, and they’ve been hyping the shit out of it down on Earth. More than two billion people are expecting to see the whole story of the Dragonstar on their holies right in their own homes. We can’t back out of it now. It’s just impossible.”

“Well, I’d like to go on record as not agreeing with your decision, Colonel. I’m sorry, but that’s the way I feel.”

“It’s your prerogative, Bob. I understand, and I want to thank you for your concern. Look, we’re going to have the whole project wrapped up in another day or so, and when the broadcast is over, we can all get together and decide on the best course of action. I’ll notify the Joint Chiefs about what your findings have been, and we’ll take it from there.”

“You mean you’re not going to inform the Joint Chiefs now?”

“That’s right,” Kemp said firmly.

“I think that’s a big mistake, Phineas.”

“Why don’t you let me worry about that one, Bob.” He paused to clear his throat. “Now look, I’ve got a few more things to take care of here. Good luck with the production crew. I’ll be in touch within twenty-four hours. See you then.”

Phineas signed off before he heard any reply from Dr. Jakes. There were simply too many things going on at once, and he had to take one step at a time. He did feel bad about not keeping on top of the memos that were piling up in his office, and Jakes did have some valid things to say, but it was all going to have to wait until the documentary was completed.

Phineas had detected an emotional strain in Jakes’s voice, and he knew that would hamper any real decision-making that might be necessary from the chief science officer. There was no room for emotional response to critical situations. That had always been the problem with Becky and himself
—
too much damned emotional garbage getting in the way. He grinned easily. Despite what the women were saying about equal this and equal that, they were still the more emotionally dependent members of the species, of that Kemp was certain. And that made them less competent in a crisis
—
he was equally convinced of that.

Well, there would be plenty of time for social philosophizing later. He had a film project to complete. He whipped through the remainder of the schedule on his monitor and checked out the various assignments
—
making sure that everyone and every contingency had been carefully planned for. Kemp was pleased with the orderly geometry of the schedule. It was one of his usual meticulous creations, and he could always admire a job well done.

His intercom buzzed again. “Kemp here.”

“Yes, Colonel, this is Lasky. We’re just about ready here ...”

It was the director of the second production unit, and Kemp was pleased to hear that the crew was ready to shoot the sequences in the Mesozoic preserve. “All right, Les, I’ll be right out. I’m anxious to get this thing rolling.”

* * *

The second unit crew had been packed into a caravan of Omni Terrain Vehicles. It was time to go out into the hostile environment of the preserve and recreate the survival trek of Rebecca Thalberg and Ian Coopersmith. Becky and Ian were riding in the second vehicle, having agreed to be filmed in the preserve during their interviews.

Mikaela Lindstrom rode in the lead vehicle with Phineas Kemp, a driver, and two armed escorts as they left the base camp and began a short journey through the lush green jungle of the preserve. The OTVs moved well through the thick undergrowth and into a marshy swampland. In the distance, bordering the Jurassic bog, rose a majestic forest of redwoods, shrouded in a steamy mist. To Mikaela it was a magical landscape that never lost its special dreamlike qualities. To others it was the stuff of nightmares, a land of fear and terrible death.

“How far are we going, Dr. Lindstrom?” the driver called.

“Out to the Mordor Plateau,” Mikaela said. “There’s plenty of room for the crew to set up their equipment, and the scenery will give them a good variety of shots.”

The driver nodded. Mikaela looked over at Phineas, who seemed lost in thought. She smiled and decided to needle him a bit.

“Such a furrowed brow, my colonel. Do you sense trouble brewing?”

“What?” Kemp asked absently. “Oh, no, I was just thinking over a few things.”

“Like what?”

“Sorry, Mikaela, but these things are classified for the moment.”

She feigned insult, then smiled coquettishly at him. “Why, Colonel, does that mean you don’t trust me?”

“Now look,” he said, missing the humorous jibe. “We’ve been through this sort of thing before. I just can’t go on talking about everything that crosses my desk and my mind. You know it’s the responsibility of the position that—”

“Phineas, be still, I was only
joking,
for God’s sake. I swear, sometimes you can be such a stick in the mud.”

“Sorry, Mikaela, but I have a lot on my mind these days.” He looked into her deep, electric blue eyes, then out through the side viewing port of the primitive scenery.

“I was wondering, Phineas, have you had any weird feelings about shooting the sequence coming up?”

He looked at her with an expression of true bewilderment. “Whatever are you talking about?”

“Well, with Becky and Ian riding in the car behind us, getting ready to go out there and recreate their Tarzan and Jane thing, I was wondering if it might be getting to you at all.”

Phineas smiled. “Mikaela, I can assure you that it’s not getting to me in the least. In fact, I recently had a long talk with Coopersmith back on Earth, when he was arranging to return, and we were able to get everything aired out. Whatever went down is behind us now. We’ve all got a job to do.”

“That’s so very noble of you, Phineas.” Mikaela chuckled lightly. “What about Becky? Did you have a long talk with her, too?”