Troy Rising 1 - Live Free or Die (41 page)

“Also known,” Dr. Cline said. “Not something we like to talk about, but... Known.”

“But if there is reproductive control, actual
birthrates
drop,” Dr. Gigum said. “And your attackers were looking at an already severely reduced
population. One due to lack of population unable to be useful...” The beetle paused, as if
trying to think of a polite term.

“Slaves,” Dr. Cline said, her jaw working. “We know the term.”

“As you say,” Dr. Gigum said. “I understand this tribe used them until historically
recently.”

“Specifically,” Dr. Cline said, “those who were of darker skin pigmentation. Such as
myself.”

“Ah,” Dr. Gigum said. “Pardon the faux pas.”

“The point?” Dr. Cline said, then paused. “Oh... hell. How
can
they overcome standard contraceptives?”

“To recover the method by which your contraceptives work,” Dr. Gigum said. “They mimic
pregnancy. Your females, those within reproductive range, still ovulate during pregnancy.
But the egg's coating hardens preventing fertilization. The packet first works by removing
that defense against multiple pregnancies...”

“That is going to
kill
women,” Dr. Cline snapped. “Our systems are not
designed
for multi-start pregnancies!”

“Nonetheless,” the beetle said. “That is not all, however. Your attackers noted the social
conditions of reproduction in your species. I will not get into evolutionary theory on the
subject, but your species has two unusual aspects to your reproduction. Your females do
not go into a 'heat' cycle and they orgasm. This places most decisions regarding
reproduction or pseudo reproduction, absent force on the part of the male, in the hands of
the female.”

“Delicately put,” Dr. Cline said, her brow furrowing. “So... ?”

“The packet does three things,” Dr. Gigum said. “The first is it removes the protection
against multi-term pregnancies. Unwisely as you said. Your females are not designed to
handle that. It will cause deaths in the absence of intervention. The second is to
increase the tendency, in certain individuals, to orgasm...”

“Oh... dear,” Dr. Cline said. “That could get...” She tried not to smile. “Difficult. Not
necessarily bad, mind you.”

“The last is, perhaps, the most societally challenging,” Dr. Gigum said, waggling his
feelers in discomfort. “Human females, certain human females, now will go into a monthly
heat cycle.”

“Monthly?” Dr. Cline said, her eyes wide.
“Monthly?!”

“Yes,” the beetle said. “Certain female humans.”

“Which?” Dr. Cline said, her eyes narrowing.

“The attack anticipated that only persons with the Blond gene would survive...”

“Oh,” Dr. Cline said, exhaling. “Oh. Oh... hell.”

“So,” Dr. Gigum said, his feelers waggling again. “You have a saying that is now very
apt...”

“Blondes really
will
have more fun. Got it. When?”

“The packet is already kicking in,” Dr. Gigum said. “It would have done the modifications
over the last month in the population. As females, blonde females, go into the ovulatory
period of their monthly cycle they will start to... change.”

“And people used to joke about
PMS
,” Dr. Cline said. “Remedy?”

“There is no widespread remedy,” Dr. Gigum said. "Any uni-vaccine that could be simply
tricked into allowing a wide-spread retrovirus to correct the... change would be, of
course, useless. There is little or no way to get past the current vaccines. It will
require individualized treatment.
Advanced
individualized treatment. The nannites must first be removed from the body, a very
difficult and time-consuming process, then the retrovirus inserted then the nannites
reinstalled.

“Oh, no, no, no...” Dr. Cline said.

“There is some good news,” Dr. Gigum said. “At least, given your recent population
decrease. You will soon be looking at a veritable baby-boom.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, nooo! Blondes in
heat
? Why couldn't it have been mutant cyborgs?”

“SpaceCom, this is the Explorer Vessel
Trinidad
, Terra Ship Registry Number Echo-Victor-One, exiting the gate,” Steve said. He had taken
over the com by right of being commander. The communications officer was pissed but she'd
get over it. He was probably sleeping on the couch in the meantime.

“
Trinidad,
SpaceCom. Welcome home. How was the trip?”

“Relatively uneventful,” Steve said. “New star systems, no new civilizations. Glad to be
home.”

“As said, welcome home. Cleared for orbital insertion. Assume parking positions at
geosync three one six, over.”

“Three one six, aye,” Steve said. “Pilot, make it so.”

“You're so geeky there should be a law,” Mathilda said, smiling.

The EV
Trinidad
, named after Magellan's flagship, owner Apollo Mining Corporation, Inc, had been built to
spec in the Tu'Ghithazhalh yards circling the Rangora home world of Ligaghux. It had
human-designed, and in many cases built, living areas and control and management centers,
room for two
Columbia
-class Boeing shuttles and, importantly, enormous fuel, water and air bunkerage.

The Glatun had only four exploratory ships still operating and one of those was about to
be scrapped with no plans for replacement. At the same time, the Grtul seemed to be going
through a building boom in the spiral arm. Since earth's gate had opened, sixty more had
opened in the immediate stellar region. Exploring that cat's cradle was complex.

The Grtul provided updated reports of the growing gate network but that was all. There was
no notation as to the condition of the systems, whether there were inhabitants, livable
planets, nothing. Just a gate address and how it was connected. Some gates were dead ends.
Some were connected to as many as twelve other gates. And that could change at any moment.

Earth's gate was connected to three other systems. Alpha Centauri had no habitable planets
or even useful gas giants. However, its gate connected to E Eridani which in turn
connected to Glalkod system. It also, unfortunately, connected to L726-8 which connected
by one additional gate to the Horvath home system.

The Glatun ship that had discovered earth had also gone out through multiple connections
along the second earth connection to Barnard's Star. They'd found some interesting systems
but nothing worth colonizing or exploiting. No civilizations, no habitable planets.

The
Trinidad
had taken the third connection to Wolf 359. And Steve was looking forward to turning in
his report. No civilizations or immediately habitable worlds. But 359 had something even
more
interesting.

Mapping out a star system took time. And when you first went through a gate, you only knew
that the space immediately around the gate was
probably
clear. You didn't know if there were hostiles on the far side. You could be running
smack-dab into a fire-fight or an asteroid. It was a bit nerve-wracking. But if you came
through okay, you then had to get to work.

First you spotted the major planets and their big moons. Then you looked for perturbations
that might indicate other planets. You scanned for the big asteroids. Spotting all the
small ones was a job for follow-on crew if there ever was one.

It took time. And if there was anything interesting in the system you had to pick your way
over, carefully, for a closer look.

Wolf 359 had taken some time. The one system currently connected to it had been quicker.
Pretty much nada. But they'd still been gone three months and were pretty much breathing
CO2 and drinking sewage.

“Incoming call from the boss,” Mathilda said. “You want to take it?”

Mathilda, and the rings they both wore, was a result of the aftermath of the battle
against the Horvath. Earth had taken a pounding and morale was rock bottom. As it was put
to Steve by none other than the president: People really need some heroes right now,
Major, so go out and hero.

The truth was it was the Very Scary Array that slagged the Horvath ship. And there were
plenty of commentators willing to make that point. But it was hard for people to get their
heads around what was, at base, a mining laser, winning a war. Two brave men in a flying
machine was easier to wrap your head around.

Since Tyler had immediately disappeared back into being, well, the richest man in the
world and as out of sight as Punxsutawney Phil on a sunny day, it was up to Steve to
travel about being shown off like a pet dog. The one absolute positive for the confirmed
bachelor was that... well, it wasn't hard to meet the ladies. That had been a subtext of
being an astronaut in the old days, but since the Apollo missions, the glamour had sort of
worn off.

The whole 'heat' thing, which was slowly getting under control, was another issue.
Sometimes the ladies were just a bit
too
forward.

Not so on his 'triumphant journey.' And he wasn't just shown off in the US, he was trotted
out in every major city in the world. Which was how he met Mathilda.

In Melbourne, Australia, he had insisted that he have a day off. Ninety-Mile beach was not
something
any
person should miss if they had the chance. To say that the sheilas of Ninety-Mile beach
were world class was a bit of an understatement. More the class of the world.

Steve wasn't trolling. He'd deliberately gone in mufti. In this case, a pair of Speedos
and shades.

So when a red-head walked up to him it was a slight surprise. Six foot, he did like the
ladies tall, blue eyes and absolutely stacked. Presumably, she recognized him and didn't
appear to be 'in that condition' as it was being referred to by the delicate. But he
wasn't going to turn down...

“You have to be the
worst
pilot in the history of astronautics,” Mathilda said. Then Dr. Mathilda Burns, Professor
of Astronomy at the University of Melbourne, proceeded to reconstruct every single mistake
he and Tyler had made during the battle.

Which turned into a 'got a hell of a sunburn' discussion, dinner, drinks... after-drinks,
coffee, hotel room, aloe... and a wedding ring.

And now second officer of the
Trinidad
.

“Do we want to get paid?” Steve asked, grinning. “Definitely.”

“Steeeve-oh!”
Tyler said.
“How was the trip?”

“Long,” Steve said. “We've got enough fuel to get into stable orbit and we're down to
eating Mountain House. Also breathing soup. Very glad to be home.”

“Report? Anything good?”

“Depends on your definition of good,” Steve said, smiling. “But I think you'll find it...
interesting.”

“Fine,”
Tyler said.
“Be all mysterious. I have stuff that's interesting, too! Meet for dinner? Or are you
fatigued by your travels?”

“Very,” Steve said. “But if you're buying...”

“We've got this amazing new chef on the
Business
,”
Tyler said.
“Hop in your shuttle and get your butt over here. Oh, and your blushing bride, of
course. Hi, Mathilda!”

“Hi, yourself,” Mathilda said. “But I've had about as much of him as I can take for a
while. Unless it's a command performance, I've got a date with a spa.”

“You go spa,”
Tyler said, smiling.
“I won't keep him long. Just some stuff I think he'd like to see. And I'm sure he wants
to give me the report in person. Steve, there's a repair and refresh crew waiting. If you
can let them work on your baby without looking over their shoulder, give your crew leave.
And yourself after we talk.”

“I could do with a few days not breathing canned air,” Steve admitted. “I'll head over to
the
Business
as soon as we're parked.”

“Looking forward to it. Missed you, man.”

***

“You do look tired,” Tyler said, pouring the astronaut a snifter of brandy. “Martel
Centennial. Hundred and fifty years old. Don't ask how much it costs. But it seemed like
the appropriate occasion.”

“Salut,”
Steve said, raising the snifter. He took a very small sip. “My, that
is
good.”

“The French can't do much right, but I'll give them fine food and drink,” Tyler said.

The 'Commodore's Quarters' on the
Business
were a recent addition. They'd been made by a Finnish company that normally built cruise
ships. With the decline in the cruise ship industry, Tyler had snapped up the company and
gotten them to start thinking about space ships. With most of the kinks worked out of
gravity systems, he had his eyes on fleets of ships plying between worlds. It wasn't going
to happen soon, but the Finns were enthusiastic enough.

The quarters had been shipped in vacuum-sealed components that would fit through the cargo
hatches on the
Business
. A small section of crew quarters were ripped out and the compartmentalized, insert Tab A
into Slot B, Commodore's Quarters installed.

They were
much
more comfortable than the normal crew quarters but Tyler was spending so much time on the
Business
he figured he should indulge. And it was good practice for what he saw coming in the
very
near future.

“So talk,” Tyler said. “What did you find?”

“Four-one-six isn't much,” Steve said, shrugging. “Red dwarf, one gas giant, small rubble
belt. If more gates open off it, maybe there will be something worthwhile.”

“Three-five-nine?” Tyler asked.

“Very interesting,” Steve said, taking another sip.
Really
nice. “
Six
gas giants. The outer most is practically in the Kuiper Belt. Lots of moons. Rocky planets
depends on your definition of planet.”

“Any habitable moons?”

“Not as they stand,” Steve said. “But about the gas giants. The
inner
most is directly in the life belt. And it has three moons, one of them a bit short of
Earth sized, that have reducing atmospheres.”

“Thick?” Tyler asked.

“Thick enough,” Steve said, grinning. “They'd be a big damned project to terraform, but
they're all terraformable. The Mars sized one, which we named after my blushing bride, has
an atmo that is thicker than earth's.”