Toliman - The Preludes

[girlfight_club]

Prelude

Returner

M.Y. 2060



A quiet office at the chaotic base held them, like a moment separated from all others.

Hidama sat at his desk as he tapped through the entries appearing on his notebook datapad. Yoshi sat across from him, waiting.

"Remarkable. You were lucky to secure the diary. We might never have found her."

"She seemed very withdrawn and unenthusiastic for someone chosen to work on Unity. I felt it warranted a deeper probe."

"Of course, you had to be kept away from the enforcement action itself, for the sake of appearance. But we made a video record during the action. Would you care to see it?"

"Yes, indeed."

Hidama tapped a button on his notebook, and turned it so that Yoshi could watch. The timecode indicated the morning of the day before, and the scene was an untravelled area of the base, well in from the defense perimeter, but not used for several months. It did provide a back way into some of the Unity Project's sterilization labs. But a very visible one.

Into the frame walked, with easy confidence, the woman she had been investigating. A fellow Unity crewman, and she was headed toward the labs. But blurs appeared before the lens as the sniper team readied its weapons in concealment.

Yoshi watched calmly as the infiltrator was challenged by name, by men she could not see. Calmly while the little target drew a shredder pistol and ran desperately for distant cover across the broken dirt of the abandoned assembly yard. Calmly while she was taken down, and her bag full of saboteur's toys seized from her dead hand.

"The team performed very professionally!" she said.

"We have received acclaimation for our action from the UN Commission," Hidama said dryly. "Zero media, naturally. The overall view is this is just another protest incident. The final launch is so close, there will be no additional investigation."

"But do we know any more about this terrorist or her intentions than what the diary revealed? Was she really acting alone?"

"It seems she had gang connections, which could make her an acquaintance of half the mission's security complement."

"The Americans' screening process is corrupt. I will pay extra attention to anyone who knew her as the mission progresses."

"That is well." But this made Hidama look over a worn paper folder, already beginning to spoil with age. He regarded the perfect lists of scholastic and technical achievement that were the life of Aturashi Yoshi. Save for one month, back in 2049.

There would never be another time to ask. "Tell me, if you please, what first inspired you toward a career at PSIA?"

She acted lightly surprised and flattered at the question. "To serve my country."

He smiled, but said, "Ah yes, but you made a decision as to how. Throughout most of school you were studying basic polymorphic software, internet design. Every sign of taking a entry-level job, or eventually becoming someone's homemaker."

They regarded one another. He continued. "But that changed all at once, when you were fifteen. An illness, and then a passion for communications and intelligence work. What happened?"

"It was diagnosed as an acute form of hepatitis. I was very ill, but it was temporary. Mother was very frightened for me, since there was such a high fever, and it lasted so long. When I finally returned to school, there was so much to catch up on. I worked harder than I ever had in my life."

"Changing your cirrculum must have made that exponentially harder."

"Yes, but in catching up I discovered so many extra reserves of energy. So much potential in myself that had been going untapped. I decided I wanted to remain pushing at that level, to be on all the time. And to find the best way to put that energy to use."

She nodded gently but earnestly. "I became driven."

Hidama met her eyes a long time. He knew of no one on Earth who could carry a lie better and hide it, somehow, from any detection device ever invented.

"Well. Your countrymen will need all your drive and energy. There are 115 Japanese citizens aboard Unity, and it is now your sole responsibility, for the rest of your life, to see to their safety and well-being."

"Yes!"

Hidama allowed for a respectful silence before standing. Yoshi also arose. He said, bowing, "Good luck in space, and on the new world."

Yoshi bowed in kind. Another pause, and she returned to the original subject of the meeting. "If I may ask, sir? With Jaydo eliminated, there is another vacancy aboard. The UN has already sent all the unchosen candidates away to other work, or to their families. I have some recommendations which might benefit us. If you could use your influence--"

But Hidama was shaking his head. He packed his small briefcase with what few things remained to hand. "That is up to the Commission now, if they have any interest or time for it."

She stood silently, watching him fold the pad into his case. The ashes of this life... "You aren't staying for the launch."

"No," said Hidama, with the heavy sigh of the end of a salaryman's day. "Our unit is going home. Kyoto is on fire."

She lowered her eyes, so he would see a sad reverence.




In a few moments he was gone, leaving her there like a garden statue placed by design in an empty room.

[girlfight_club]

Prelude

The Modern Prometheus

M.Y. 2060



So private blogging can still get you killed. Word had gotten around about Jaydo, at least inside the project. It was even known someone had found a personal journal of Sarah's, full of crazy ramblings. Beyond that, no one was saying much about her. Edited with extreme prejudice.

Thea Petalas sat against the side of her waiting cryocell, keeping her game face on while frantically thumbing through her PDP. She was scrolling through page after page of scanned images of a paper notebook she used as a teenager. The paper was long since reduced to ash; the original scandisc was powder. This was the only copy of her work, and it spoke of things that she was certain were exponentially worse than anything Sarah could have written.

She was in a secton of Bay 4, originally designed to house livestock cryocells. Then someone decided that was too costly, and they built redundant greenhouse bays instead, so this compartment became bulk storage. Then after contractors changed hands it became miscellaneous storage, with five oversize cells jammed in near the hatch.

Back to us livestock, she thought darkly, trying to pull her mind toward the job at hand. Some engineer's idea of a joke. These were the units set aside for the big members of the crew, the ones who simply wouldn't fit into a standard cryocell.

Bays 4, 5 and 6 were part of this launch, the last Unity launch, and so everything was upended, awaiting escape from gravity. The cryocells were swiveled to accomodate, and movement around the compartment was limited to narrow, cramped platforms. Still, the four giant men managed to somehow keep well apart her, gathered on a small access ledge twenty feet below.

She stood about 2.3 meters tall, but there was one guy there pushing two and a half. The guys were all hanging together, carrying on despite the language hurdles. Like they must have at the base, thought Thea. She barely knew that Mulifi and Gasana were mechanics from Rwanda... Kaylo Washington she knew from his football career. In fact, she knew him from the '44 Olympics, before they disqualified her; before she ran off into the burning streets. The fourth, Ojukwu, well, she wasn't really sure where he was from. She should be studying the manifest, and all their details, but she was on the edge of panic over mistakes she made over a decade ago.

Why do I always get on better with the violent people than with the peaceful people? It wasn't as though she had no devotion to the latter: Pravin Lal's recommendation filled her conscience with a heavier weight than she could lift.

Thea felt she could win over anyone-- as long they remained a casual acquaintance. She was even mildly famous on the project as the "gentle giantess". But Sarah Jaydo was the only person on the base she had really gotten along with. The nasty laugh, the crazy blue eyes. And Sarah is such a delightful misanthrope. We have real laughs toge-- Thea squeezed her eyes shut. Was. Had.

Did Pravin and Pria now suspect the worst of her? She doubted it. The Lals were excellent people, she had known them for years. But they were always going to be kindly princes, somewhere up above the masses. They only had the most refined ideas of how ugly human life really was. Thea was one of their success stories-- how could such a complete rehabiliation fail?

By failing before it began, of course. Still, the thought of letting them down after all the years of aiding children at Pria's behest. The Commissioner knew she had run with the gangs in the forties, and what that meant; what she was capable of in a cold ruined alley when the food ran low.

But Pria was almost like a third mother to her. If she knew this part of the story of my life-- she would never understand.

Her QL was ringing. She hastily switched off her PDP and answered, "Petalas."

It was Ensign Colson in the staging room of the conning tower. "Your men aren't stowed?"

"Um, not hardly. Sorry, ensign."

"Well, are they all present?"

"Yes--"

"Well, come on then! Gimme some green lights down here all ready! I need to get aboard, and this is holding everyone up!" she yelled, straining her bayou accent. "Pleeease expedite!" And she hung up in Thea's face.

Hell of a way to run a starship. Still, it was time to finish this.

She looked over the corner of her ledge, clapped her hands and called down, "Okay, okay, guys. Any of you who don't know me, I'm Ensign Petalas. I'm acting as your cryotech, so if you have any questions, now's your chance."

She forced a smile into their silence. Mulifi nudged Gasana with a snicker. And so Gasana said, "Is it true you're the strongest woman on Earth?" She saw Kaylo guiltily roll his eyes.

Ai, yi. Thea kept smiling. "Well, actually, I hold the semi-official human record in powerlifting and long jump. It's called genetic engineering, and thirty-odd years ago they thought everyone would be doing it by now." They were shaking their heads. "Any real que--"

"But no, no," said Mulifi, who had the least English in the room. "Why they make woman so? They would make man strongest, yes? Is easy!"

Thinking of her mothers, Thea's smile was for a moment genuine. "Well, I guess they loved a challenge!"

"Okay!" said Mulifi, and looked at Gasana, and gave him a strong nudge, followed by a rapid sentence in Bantu.

Kigeri Gasana made a decision, then looked up into Thea's eyes. "Yeah. I challenge you!"

For several seconds there was no sound except the thrum of the spacecraft around them.

Clenching the smile, Thea broke out a gesture of exasperation. "What?!"

"You say you're the strongest." He shook his head. "I say, no way. Not possible. Not scientifically possible. So now we fight and decide, eh?"

"Crewman--"

"We'll use arms!"

"Arms?" she asked quietly.

"Yes! Wrestle with arms!" Grinning, he shook his right fist at her.

"Arm-wrestle," corrected Kaylo.

"Yes! Arm-wrestle!"

"No, Gasana, if I twist your wrist, it won't have time to heal before you're in cryostasis. Taking on cell damage before cryo is bad, maybe very bad--"

But she couldn't make herself heard over their shouts in the echoey chamber. "Yeah, go to it, Gasana!" "Go on, man!" Kaylo tried half-heartedly to talk Gasana down, but wound up clapping with the rest. The only signal he gave to her was a not-so-hepless shrug as the chant of "arm wrestle" filled the bay.

They began to suggest other challenges. She could order them, but. "All right, gentlemen, all right. You want your pre-game show? Fine." Cheers from below. "But not in our multi-million-credit pressure suits. Gasana, strip and stow it. Let's go."

Gasana was quick about it, his suit was off in three seconds. His torso was covered in a mesh of cuts, some ritual, some merely not fatal. His tats were a travelogue of East African camps and prisons, and his face was happy and defiant.

And now it was her turn. Eight brown eyes aimed up at her.

They knew they weren't about to experience the SI swimsuit edition, and she knew they knew. Their anticipation was that of a holo audience waiting to be entertained by the clever creature animation. All Earth is a circus of freaks, but somehow, I still take center ring.

The UN planning teams had found a way to mass-produce generic pressure suits, in only a few sizes, to outfit the crew, but the people in this room were the exeception. Theirs were tailor-made the old fashioned way. Thea's form-fitting suit had been hiding very little of her true bulk, and the men saw a body emerge that was a match in breadth and thickness to their own. They were silent, which she appreciated.

Even Kaylo saw something new: She had several scars that weren't there in '44. One was plainly a bullet wound. And across her back was stretched a symbol of two interwined moons crossed by an arrow. As she tossed her suit into her waiting cryocell, she made sure they all had a good look at that symbol. She also made sure her PDP was safely under her suit.

She started down towards them. "Okay, we'll use that pressure platform below. It's good enough as a table." She took a jump down to their space.

Her pink body landed in their midst. They all pulled back, which was quite a feat on the little ledge, like she was bad luck. All except Kaylo. But he had something to say.

"Y'know, Thea, you don't get like that without taking some steel-tipped meds."

"Now, Kaylo, of course it wasn't drugs, you know that," she smiled, hiding her failing struggle for camaraderie. "I said. I'm engineered. They couldn't approve that anymore."

For the first time, Ojukwu addressed her. He looked angry. "They should have not have chosen you for a mission like this. A woman like you cannot bear children."

It's like they're quoting from a script. "Oh you'd be surprised, Crewman Ojukwu, just how fertile I am," she smiled as she climbed down to the platform. But they didn't get any closer.

Gasana was finally beginning to feel a little ridiculous, standing about without his clothes. He climbed down to face Thea.

Putting her elbow on the raised panel between them, she presented Gasana the mass of flexors and sinew that was her right arm. Only her wrist and hand were more slender than his, and those, not by much. She kept smiling.

Gasana looked at that for a moment, then tried to act magnanimous. "Perhaps you are right, we should not damage one another before the sleep. There would be no offense if we could say truce, and call a draw." He shrugged. "We fight after we arrive?"

She asked if he came out of the backend of a chicken, and made no reference to eggs. This refreshed his attitude, and he put up his arm. Once in each others' grip, Kaylo rushed down to ref them.

Arm wrestling was a terrific test of an opponent. You got to study their face, feel their whole spectrum of upper body strength, watch them think. Thea remembered the many times she let kids in the hospital beat her at this.

She also could not help but be reminded yet again of just how well made she was. The massive reserves of energy in her cells, the perfect nerve response time. Gasana's struggle was proof again: She was unlike others.

She waited through Gasana's every test and twist, keeping him to dead center without her breaking a sweat. Finally, she felt felt his big push, and knew this would be as easy as every one before. She gave a tiny bit of ground, just to make him max his effort. Still with her easy smile, she arced him back, and pinned him square. Then, since she could, she slammed him an extra bounce off his wrist.

"Ow! You did not have to do that!" He pulled back his stinging arm.

"No, crewman, you didn't have to do that," she said as calmly and pleasantly as she could. The smile had yet to leave her face. "Don't change the past. You asked, you got. As for your future? That wrist will ache on rainy days, if the planet has any, and if you're lucky. No, it will never heal properly." She smiled around at the rest. "Now are we done? All the little boys and girls to bed, to bed!"

Far above, she heard the muffled buzz of her quicklink ringing. All she could do was laugh. "That sound means 'Run'!"

The Africans made their way to their cryocells; Kaylo stayed behind a moment. "Hey look, I'm really sorry," he said. "I didn't do enough to stop that--"

She kept on smiling. "You couldn't have stopped that. You could have shut up about me, and not started it. But once they felt challenged, that was the only direction it could go. Now as a pampered pretty-boy ballplayer, you didn't realize how close to bloodspilling that really was." Kaylo started to object, but blinked instead. "Yeah. Don't worry, nipio. We'll teach you all about the big bad way of the streets. In forty years.

"Now move!"

It still took another twenty minutes to get them all in place, but she wanted to take the time. She reminded them of their resuscitation sequence carefully and thoroughly; explained everything until she was sure they had no doubts. One by one, she put her charges away.

Gasana was sitting in his cell, rubbing his right forearm down to the last moment. "Can't-- This can wait a few hours! My arm--"

Thea leaned over him. He was the last one, and she was done with smiles. "No. There's a countdown. Settle in, or get off now." Gasana met her hard glare, but then lay back into position, muttering something in Bantu. She fitted his breather, IV and EEGs. Then she set the internals and activated the cell.

As the lid whirred down, she reached in and gently stroked his twinging wrist, saying coolly, "Take this with you. As a reminder." She was already clambering up to her place as Gasana's cell pressurized and filled with gel.

She removed the quicklink from her suit. She lifted the suit to fold it properly, and there was the PDP lying there. She imagined it asking her, in Sarah's voice, What are you even doing here?

Before Jaydo's removal had begun to reignite old doubts in herself, Thea had felt nothing but honor that she was valuable enough for the project to take the extra effort to include her. But she knew human folly was still at work-- was having large people along supposed to ensure a diverse genome? No corresponding cells for midgets? she mused.

Or children.

Thea knew it to be a huge mistake not to bring the young along. Civilizations had always expanded with a rising generation accompanying the settlers. The danger to the kids dwarfed the importance of their presence. The danger of extinction if you miss a generation--

But who would listen to her on such an vital manner? She was assigned as the mission's physical therapy officer, not a pop planner. She wasn't that important.

So she put her pressure suit and away, and the PDP. She did a final check on the men. They were stable. The gel had knocked them out like lambs.

She could finally report in. But the QLs were so jammed, she actually had to leave voicemail for Colson. "Ensign Petalas reporting in as cryotech for crewmen Gasana, Mulifi, Washington and Ojukwu. Cryostasis entry sequence complete for same. Awaiting cryotech for self. Acknowledge?"

She waited ten minutes, her skin getting very cold before a text popped up in her quicklink: "Acknowledged. Conclude solo."

A text, not a voice. No cryotechnician would come to spot her.

What, no one else wants to come see? Her laugh at that thought pressed into tears in her solitude.

It was starkly obvious, suddenly. It didn't matter if she lived or died. If the Unity pods made planetfall at all, she'd wind up a heavy labor drone or one of Zakharov's most valued dissections. Maybe both. Sarah was right. Dead right. Earth is throwing us away to make their own death more bearable.

She tore into her compartment and dragged the datapad out again.

There it all still was. The formulae, the projected vectors, the evil little corkscrew she had built with her mind. And the teen manifesto.

These notes, this guerilla research, was no more than a record of how deadly and brutal she could be. She was the wrong hands. Any villain to find it afterward would be a plagiarist and an also-ran.

But one hell of an also-ran. She thumbed through the menus till she reached ALL ERASE.

Or...

It would lead to more breakthroughs. Maybe save the colony. The Lals were so impressed with her skill in undoing the ravages of radiation and plague. A wizard with a retrovirus. Learned so much from her parents. Surely somewhere in these furious notes there was a key to a cure that some kindly man, years and years from now, would need to rescue his people.

A scene from the old Nuweiba field base returned to her mind. The stick-like woman, laughing and dancing on one foot at her. You saved my daughters! You saved my daughters!

Thea backed out of the menu, and switched off the pad. She locked the dangerous thing away again in the dark.

Anyway, it was all up to others now. The odds were, she would arrive dead, and have nothing else to say. She lay back into the cold of the waiting cell.

"Fear not that I shall be the instrument of future mischief," she muttered, wiping the last tears as she pinned herself to the slab.

[girlfight_club]

Prelude

Deliverance

M.Y. 2060


Dr. Una Nawese was experiencing a common phenomenon of 21st Century America. She was looking at a skewed-angle close-up of the upper left quarter of a person's face on the screen of her phone. As normal, the eye filling half the screen was shut, and her conversation companion was not speaking. At least not aloud, and not to her.

QLs had been popular for years; little multifunctional hands-free wireless devices carried on the left wrist. Nawese was using hers as designed, holding it just below eye level for optimum legibility, while the auto-frame camera kept her head neatly centered on the QL screen of the person she was calling.

But as happened more and more frequently in the Christian States since the Pax Decay, the person she was calling was praying. And so Nawese spent her time waiting for Unity Psych Chaplain Miriam Godwinson to finish speaking unto God, by looking up her nose.

She had counted up to thirteen little red hairs before Godwinson got to 'Amen.'

The wide expanse of crumbling concrete and grassy tarmac that stretched out in every direction from her welcomed the unchecked winds. Well inside the base perimeter, Nawese stood in the middle of nowhere. Her suit jacket cracked like a flag around her, while she held close a wheeled suitcase and a small stack of file boxes, lest they tip away.

She watched as Godwinson, inside the little screen, inside the calm serenity of the vehicle on the launch pad, composed herself. "Good afternoon, Doctor."

Nawese forced a smile. "Chaplain."

"We have a new crewman to select. Our security forces have caught a lone terrorist, praise the Lord, and it's up to our department to ensure another doesn't make it through."

"Yes, I heard." I heard it was the Japanese doing the catching.

"In fact, the choice for replacement has fallen to me. It's the Commission's responsibility. But Commissioner Lal is of course much too busy. He deferred to Captain Garland, who is in orbit, and the Captain felt he needed someone who was still earthside to make a choice. John and I have had a long-time understanding over what makes for a good crew, so he alerted me at once. And I feel it's providential that this choice should fall within an hour of my entering my cryocell."

"I called back as quick as I could," said Nawese, trying not to sound too nonplussed.

"Yes, thank you. I was hoping to reach Dr. Bole, but it seems she has already departed. Along with the other crew candidates."

Bole left a month ago. You are so out of touch with your own department-- "Well... we are 'reapportioning personnel' down here, Chaplain," she said, emphasizing the latest doublespeak for panicked flight. "I am the last one, ma'am."

"So I gathered! It's imperative then, that you help this young woman aboard. I've sent you all her information. She'll be waiting at--"

"I can't." Nawese felt she had to be firm. "I'm on the copter that's out of here in an hour. Less. I'm heading home to Lagos, Chaplain. Be serious. My flight leaves in..."

No. No, do NOT give me that look. In fifteen minutes you are a corpsicle and have no more power over anyone on Earth! However, Nawese said, "I'm sorry, I meant no offense, ma'am."

Godwinson looked partly satisfied. "Apology accepted, Dr. Nawese. Provided, of course, you perform this last service."

"What exactly does this entail?"

"Happily, she's passed all her physical exams, and her file is complete, except for the Psych profile. There's no waiving it this time, considering the circumstances.

"The interview must be recorded, and be a minimum length of twenty minutes. Then at least 1500 words from you, with attached retinal scan-- well, you know the procedure, of course. She is waiting for you in your office."

"Back at the Psych compound?" She was already carrying all her things from the Psych compound.

"Yes, don't forget to make Miss Beaucourt a disk to carry with. And be sure to cc her entire report, once you're done, to the Conclave Arch-Deacon, Jim Duffrey. I've texted you his address."

Report?! Arch-Deacon?! Why are you doing this to me! "Is that entirely within mission protocol, ma'am?"

"It's an added value to the Unity Project, doctor. It also touches upon you directly, as I believe you require an active visa to depart the XS for your home in Africa?"

Una's deep brown eyes bugged from the strain at disguising her rage. "I'm... certain my visa is entirely in order. Ma'am."

"Yes, we wouldn't want any bureaucratic nonsense holding you up from getting aboard your flight. Or even your helicopter."

The tension drained from Nawese's face with the weariness of a serf facing the banal mendacity of a duchess. All she could do was nod. Damn it.

Godwinson softened upon seeing Nawese's open contrition. "You see, I entirely appreciate your tight schedule. Now, I'm not going to be awake, or I'd usher Miss Beaucourt aboard personally. She needs your authorization to clear all the checkpoints. She's really very nice and extremely competent, and I'm sure assessing her will take no time at all."

"Right. I'll get right on it."

"That puts my mind at ease, Doctor. God be with you."

"Safe flight, Chaplain."

Nawese hung up. And held the button down until the QL shut off completely. After making sure the screen was blank for a full five seconds, she wheeled in the direction of the launch pad and swore a blue streak at Miriam Godwinson.

The rocket stood there, far away, unmoving.

Her shrieks echoed off the wind. There was brimstone in that curse. And asteroid storms.

"Good old Scream Therapy. Nice to see you." Nawese then straightened herself out, and turned herself around. She tried to balance her file boxes on her wheeled suitcase, but it was no easier going across the acres of broken pavement back to the Psych compound than it was leaving it.

If I had just not stopped for a breather... If I had just not decided to answer my voice mail... If I had just gotten to the damn helipad-- She hissed and shook her head. No, they would have just have stopped her there.

She refused to let anger get the better of her. Or fear. The real danger to her was not missing the copter, but missing the flight out of Bush International. Trapped without job, family or status in the XSA was as close to damnation as she liked to imagine possible. She threaded her way back, rolling around all-too-familiar cracks in the pavement, one after the other, like a mouse learning its maze.

Minutes passed, filled with the grinding of little wheels and a darkening sky. More dust began to blow her way.

A small car of some kind came driving in from her right. It looked to be crossing in front of her soon, so she stopped and waved her arms over her head.

As it grew closer, it was plainly one of the armored go-carts the security forces used to patrol the interior of the base. It contained precisely one XSA MP, who reacted to her wave by making a beeline towards her.

He hit the brakes within a couple yards of her, scattering bits of concrete gravel across the emptiness. "State your business, ma'am."

She, very consciously, met his eyes and didn't flinch. "I'm Dr. Una Nawese, and I've been ordered back to Psych Central."

He shook his head. "They closed that this morning, ma'am."

"Don't I know it. Word just came down. They need me to clear a replacement crewman, and they stop-lossed my *** in mid-march."

He didn't look convinced. "The Unity crew? They're accounted for."

"Except that terrorist spy you took out the other day. That leaves a vacancy that I get to help fill. Nice work, by the way."

"Thank you."

"I have my orders, soldier. From the top. I need to get there at once." She moved her luggage toward the cart, mimicking the presumptive air of superior rank.

"Not going in that direction, sorry, ma'am. You're almost there." And he sped off.

Nawese knew the reason she had entered psychology. As a child she saw an old fantasy movie where psyching people to do your bidding was easy, and her interest had grown from there. Reality was never so fun or forgiving.

At least I'm not under detention. Not trusting Murphy's Law, she kept glancing in the direction of the retreating go-kart, even as she struggled forward, grinding little wheels.

Low in the distance waited the compound.

As she tread the last three hundred meters, the breeze shifted again, and a sharpness began to assail her eyes, skin and throat. Bad air, not enough oxygen mixed in with the dioxins and dust. She fumbled goggles and a dust mask out of one box, but she wasn't equipped with anything like an air tank.

The weather Service issued no warning today! But these little pockets of floating filth came every day, now. Asphyxiation didn't have to roll in on a great disastrous cloud. It could arrive quite small.

The dust was even beginning to clog the little wheels, when she looked up to find herself nearly there.

At the threshold of the Psych complex, the bad air began to let up. She dragged her belongings over to one side of the wide entrance to the central courtyard, where something like seating and even shelter from the winds let her catch her breath.

The space was like a miniature forum, with concrete seats in concentric rings, and even a few lights. Only a few steps to the side of the footpaths, it would have been perfect for small gatherings, for meetings or discussions. Picnics. It was filled with trash, sand, and broken glass. Only a few steps, but no one had ever used it.

Nawese wondered at the effort of human folly, building things that they think should be, only to let them rot back into the earth. More dust blew in, thickening the ground like a scrupulous sexton. She moved on.

The building had already acquired a haunted look. Its empty courtyard opened onto empty corridors. The lights were off, the offices empty of everything but the most basic furniture.

The elevator still took forever. The compound only had two aboveground floors, but the stairs were not an option. On her floor, there was a cleaning woman in a standard-issue green uniform, pushing a cart from office to office, occasionally sweeping. Her domestic noises were the greatest comfort Nawese had had all day.

Finding her way back to her office, Nawese realized there was no computer equipment left. She would have to type everything manually on her portable. Worse, upon opening her door, there was no one waiting for her.

Swearing audibly, she threw her things down, and collapsed into her chair. On her desk was a file box full of abandoned datapads of hers and Dr. Bole's, which she began to rummage through, as if for clues, before she caught herself. I need to clear up this idiocy now.

But even her phone was already gone. An old formality, really, but landlines meant an extra level of security. Its absence made her nervous. Looters? That was ridiculous; the base perimeter was going to hold till after the launch. But insiders, stealing stuff left behind... temps gone crazy...

She realized the cleaning woman had stopped making any sounds. She was just in the other room, not moving.

Nawese glanced at her QL. Her heart leapt a moment when she saw the screen was dead, under a layer of dust. Then she remembered to turn it on.

The woman's voice came through the doorway, with all the warning tones of an animal guarding its turf. "What're you doin'? You belong here? Huh?"





Chapter to be continued--



.