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Authors: Charles Sheffield

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BOOK: Sight of Proteus
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He paused for a moment. Bey wondered what the staff of Pleasure Dome did for their own entertainment—what would appeal to the men and women who had seen everything, who had provided for every possible taste? Probably something very simple. The chefs of the most expensive restaurants seemed to dine on the most basic fare.

"The evening of the third day," the man finally continued, "I took my usual routine look at the tell-tales. All three men were dead. I couldn't believe it. At first I thought there had to be something wrong with the tell-tales, or maybe a programming error for the displays. Then we opened the tanks."

He paused again, re-living the memory.

"It was awful. God, it was like a nightmare. They had changed, they weren't men anymore. They were monsters, with great big glowing eyes and wrinkled skin—just like a horror holo. We checked that they were all dead, then looked at their ID's. I knew, even without that, we had three off-worlders on our hands. Everybody around here really panicked. We thought we might be able to get them off-Earth, but it isn't as easy as it used to be. When we found we couldn't do that, we decided the safest thing would be to put them deep at sea. But apparently that didn't work, either."

There was a long silence. Ling was too engrossed even to give Bey a look of triumph at his reconstruction of events. He was bound in a spell of concentration so intense that he looked blind, his eyes unblinking and focused on infinity.

"Did you do any chemical analysis of the bodies?" he asked at last.

"God, no. We wanted to get them out of here. We weren't about to waste time with tests. There should be records of all the chemistry, though, as it was measured during the bio-feedback work. It will all be in the files, still, along with the monitor and tell-tale records. Blood chemistry and cell chemistry should be recorded continuously."

"Right. I want to examine those now. Bring them here or take us to them."

"I'll get them. But they'll be in raw form. Only a form-change expert would be able to read them."

Ling caught Bey's glance. "Bring them in. We'll manage somehow," he said. "It's a skill you never lose once you've mastered it completely."

* * *

John Larsen looked at the spectrograph output, then at Park Green.

"It's far less than I expected," he said. "There are traces of Asfanium in all the bodies, but the amount is very small. There's a tiny trace of radioactivity because of that, but it's not enough to make a big physical effect, even if form-change amplifies it. I wonder if it could be a subtle chemical effect? Trace elements, even in microscopic amounts, do funny things to the biochemical balance. We still don't know too much about the chemical properties of the transuranics in the island of stability around 114."

"Well," began Green doubtfully, "we don't know all that much. But we've found no strange properties for Asfanium or Polkium in our work on the Moon. I think it's something different. The crew of the Jason never encountered form-change before. They weren't experienced. I wonder if they somehow let things get out of control—they ran into something new, like a trace of Asfanium, and they didn't have the form-change experience to know how to handle it."

Larsen slapped the spectrograph output sheet against his thigh.

"Park, I bet you're on to something. Experience is important in form-change work. With inexperienced people, something could go wrong."

"So can we test it?"

"I think so. We already know that Asfanium concentrates in the thymus gland. We can take an extract from one of the bodies and conduct a controlled test to see if funny things happen when you use a form-change program."

Green frowned. "It's a nice idea, but where could you get a test animal? I thought the whole point of form-change was that only humans could do it. After all, that's the basis for the humanity-tests."

Larsen laughed confidently. "Exactly right. You want to see the test animal? Here it is." He tapped his chest. "Now, don't get the wrong idea," he added, as he saw Park Green beginning a horrified protest. "One of the things that we get in Form Control is many years of training in form-control methods. If anything starts to happen, I'll have no trouble at all in stopping and reversing it. That's the difference between me and the three Grabbers—experience."

He stood up. "Don't forget, it's a purposive process. It only changes you because there is a desire to change. Come on, let's get a thymus extract made here and then go back to the form-change tanks at Form Control headquarters. We'll really have something to show Bey Wolf and your boss when they get back from their jaunt to Pleasure Dome."

Chapter 14

The "jaunt" to Pleasure Dome was becoming a grind. The staff employees looked on in amazement as Wolf and Ling worked their way through the monitor records at express speed, reading raw data, swapping comments and shared analyses as they went. They had to deal with a mixture of body physical parameters such as temperature, pulse rate and skin conductivity, and system variables such as nutrient rates, ambient temperatures, and electrical stimuli. Programs in use as they were swapped in and out of the computer, plus chemical readings and brain activity indices, were all recorded in parallel in the same files. Reading the outputs required many years of experience, plus a full understanding of the processes—mental and physical—of the human body. Ling was tireless, and Bey was determined not to be outdone.

"Who is he?" whispered the Pleasure Dome form-change supervisor to Bey, during one of their brief halts to await more data. "I know who you are, you're Head of Form Control; but where did he learn all this?"

Bey looked across at Ling, who was deep in thought and oblivious to comments, whispered or otherwise.

"Maybe you should ask him yourself. I've already had that conversation once."

The arrival of more data pushed the question aside.

After thirty-six hours of intense work, the basic analysis was complete. They had an incredible array of facts available to them, but one dominated all others: the crew of the Jason had died long, long before their form-change was complete. They had died because the forms they were adopting were unable to live and breathe in normal air. The final forms remained unknown. There were other mysteries. Why were they changing to those forms, under the control of a simple reconditioning program that had been used a thousand times before, with never a hint of trouble?

Karl Ling sat motionless, as he had for the past two hours. From time to time he would ask Bey a question, or look again at a piece of data. Rather than disturb him with general questions, Bey decided that he would go into another room and try to reach Form Control headquarters. He wanted to check with John Larsen on the general situation. Ling was voyaging on strange seas of thought, alone, and Bey Wolf had developed a profound respect for that man's mind.

It was Park Green who answered the communicator instead of Larsen. He looked very uneasy.

"Where's John?"

"He's in a form-change tank, Mr. Wolf. He went in yesterday morning."

"Well, that's one way to keep the bureaucracy off your back."

To Green's great relief, Bey Wolf didn't seem at all concerned. Even when he explained the whole thing to him, Bey just laughed.

"John's been around form-change equipment almost as much as I have. He knows how to handle it as well as anyone on Earth. But honestly, Park, I'm sceptical about your theory. Those Belters have probably all had use of form-change equipment before. When they use it for injury repairs, it's called regeneration equipment, but it's just the same principle. The only thing the USF is down on is form-change for cosmetics or inessentials."

Park Green looked as though a big weight had been lifted off him.

"Thank heaven for that. I've been worried ever since he gave himself that thymus injection. I thought he might have talked me into letting him do something where he had a big risk. I didn't know enough about all this stuff to argue with him."

Bey smiled at the big man's obvious concern. "Go over to the tank and keep an eye on him, if you're at all worried," he said, and signed off the connection. He strolled back to join Karl Ling, who had now come out of his trance and accepted a cup of syncaff, 'compliments of Pleasure Dome.' Having broken their standard policy by letting them in free of charge, the staff of Pleasure Dome had apparently decided to adopt them. Ling had just politely refused a Snow Queen's offer of an age-old technique to relax him after all his hard work. He looked rather pleased at her suggestion, and quite annoyed when she made the same offer to Bey.

"I think I have the answers, Mr. Wolf, and they are fascinating ones. More than I dreamed. If I am right, this is a special day in our history." Ling sat back, relishing the moment.

"Well, Park Green and John Larsen think they have the answers, too," said Bey. "I've just been in video contact with them."

"They do? Without the evidence that we have available to us here?" Ling's eyebrows were raised. "I can't believe it. What do they think we are dealing with?"

Bey sketched out Larsen and Green's theory. It sounded much thinner than it had when he had first heard it. He summarized the situation back in Headquarters, and finally mentioned that Larsen was now putting the idea to a practical test.

"He injected an extract from one of the dead men, and put himself into a form-change tank?" Ling's self-possession failed him. He turned white as one of the Snow Queens. "He's a dead man. My God, why didn't they consult us before they began?"

He sprang to his feet, hurled the records aside and grabbed for his loose jacket.

"Come on, Mr. Wolf. We must get back as fast as we possibly can. If there is any chance to save John Larsen's life, it depends on our efforts."

He ran out of the room. Bey, bewildered and alarmed, followed him at top speed. When Karl Ling lost his dignity so completely, it was time to worry.

* * *

In the elevator, on the Mattin Link transfers, and through the ground transit system, Ling rapidly explained the basics of his discoveries to Bey Wolf. By the time they reached the Office of Form Control it was hard to say which man was the more frantic. They went at once to the form-change tanks.

Park Green, alerted as they travelled, was waiting for them there. He looked at Ling as though expecting an outburst of insult and accusation. It did not come. Ling went at once to the tank containing John Larsen and began to read the telltales. After a few minutes he relaxed a little and gave a grunt of satisfaction.

"Everything's still stable. That's good. If he follows the same pattern as the other three, we have about twenty-four hours to do something for him. The one thing I daren't do is stop this process in the middle. We'll have to let it run its course, try and keep him alive while it happens, and worry afterwards about reversing it. Bring me the tank schematics. I need to know exactly how the circuits work that control the nutrients and the air supply."

Wolf went for them and was back within less than a minute. Park Green was still standing by the tank, looking totally bewildered. When Ling had the schematics, Green took Bey to one side.

"Mr. Wolf, does he know what he's doing? He's an expert on the Belt, I realize that. But he doesn't know about this stuff, does he? Are we risking John's life by letting him do this?"

Wolf put his hand up to Green's massive shoulder. "Believe me, Park, he knows what he's doing. If anyone can help John now, he can do it. We have to give all the help we can, and save the questions until later. I'll tell you my views on this when it's all over."

Ling interrupted their conversation. His voice had a reassuring ring of certainty and authority.

"One of you come over here and make a note of the equipment changes that will have to be made. I'll read off the settings as I find them on the charts. The other one of you, call BEC. I want their top specialist on interactive form-change programs. Maria Sun, if she's available, the best they can offer if she isn't. Tell them it's codeword circuits, if that will move them faster."

Wolf nodded. "I can get Maria." He hurried out.

The equipment modifications began. At every stage, Ling rechecked the tell-tales. Maria Sun arrived, took one look at the monitors, and settled in by Ling's side. She swore continuously, but it did nothing to lessen her effectiveness as they sweated over the tank. Larsen's condition inside remained stable, but there were big changes occurring. His pulse rate was way down, and there was heavy demand on calcium, nitrogen and sodium in the nutrient feeds. Skin properties were changing drastically.

"They could have noticed all this in Pleasure Dome if they'd only bothered to look," grunted Ling. "Give them their due, they had no reason to expect anything peculiar. But take a look at that body mass indicator."

Maria Sun swore a string of oaths. "It's up to a hundred and twenty kilos. What's his usual weight?"

"Eighty," said Bey, absorbed in watching the indicators. He longed to see inside the tank, but there was no provision for that in the system.

The work went on. After many hours of equipment change and work on program modification with Maria Sun, Ling finally declared that he had done all that he could. The real test would come in a few hours time. That was when the records from the crew of the Jason had begun to go wild. It remained to be seen if the equipment changes could keep Larsen's condition stable as the change proceeded further. The time of watching and waiting began.

As Ling made his final checks on the tell-tales, Bey realized the mental anguish that Park Green must be going through. He looked at the big man's unhappy face.

"Mr. Ling, have we done all that can be done here?" Bey asked.

"For the moment. The rest is waiting."

"Then, if you will, would you explain all this to us, from the beginning. I got a quick overview on the way here, but Park Green is still in the dark completely; and I'm sure Maria is just as curious."

Ling looked at the three of them as though seeing them for the first time. Finally, he nodded sympathetically.

BOOK: Sight of Proteus
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