Read The Children of the Company Online
Authors: Kage Baker
Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #C429, #Extratorrents, #Kat
The Children of the Company (37 page)
“We certainly don’t want that to happen, do we?” I said.
“No,” she said, and then her face changed. I tensed and clutched my bags, ready to bolt; but she lifted her head with a regal expression and regarded me coolly. And I tell you, worm, she was somebody else entirely then.
“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” she said.
“M-marine Operations Specialist Vasilii Vasilievich Kalugin, at your service,” I said, trying to get the words out without my teeth chattering.
“What an awful lot of names you have,” she said. “I’m Nicoletta.”
Just Nicoletta.
“Pretty name,” I said, like an idiot. “You weren’t Russian, then?”
“No,” she said. “There weren’t countries when I was made. I’m very old, you know. I’ve traveled a long, long way. Traveling all the time. Oh, look; here comes a tram.”
Yes, thank God and all His angels, it was the tram at last, and we boarded, and I ran to the back in childish terror that she’d follow me. She didn’t. She rode only a short way and got out at the next stop, another little resort town. As the tram rolled away, though, she looked up and caught my eye. She smiled for me again, that serene and knowing smile.
I congratulated myself all the way home that I’d escaped another nightmarish confrontation with a Defective. I went up to my flat, put away my things, took out a frozen
kulebyaka
and heated it through, and relaxed in front of the Wire screen to catch up on the news.
kulebyaka
and heated it through, and relaxed in front of the Wire screen to catch up on the news.
It wasn’t good news by any means, worm.
The plague had jumped clear across Siberia in the time I’d been gone, and had already broken out in Okhotsk. No sign of it in Vladivostok or Japan yet, but that was anticipated. Depressing. I mailed the personnel coordinator at Gorbachev to let her know I was home again, I fixed a drink, and put on a disc to watch Pitoev’s remake of
The Loves of Surya.
The Loves of Surya.
I woke late, roused by the commotion at my door. Nobody was knocking on it or anything like that; it was being sealed. I could hear the hiss of the extrusion foam being jetted into place.
“Er—excuse me!” I came staggering out in my pajamas and gaped at the
blank door lined in pink foam. A note had been pushed through at the bottom. I picked it up off the mat and read a hastily printed note informing me that I was under quarantine by order of the City Council.
blank door lined in pink foam. A note had been pushed through at the bottom. I picked it up off the mat and read a hastily printed note informing me that I was under quarantine by order of the City Council.
“Miron Demyanovich,” I shouted, hoping the superintendent was still within earshot. “Why am I being quarantined?”
There was silence for a moment and then he shouted: “You just came back from Paratunka!”
“Yes, well?”
“The news just came through! It’s started there!”
“Oh,” I said. Well, I had known it would happen, hadn’t I? History records that the Sattes virus wiped out the armed forces of the world.
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant Kalugin! God have mercy on you!”
“That’s all right,” I said numbly, and went in to fix myself breakfast. I think I must have sat there staring into my coffee for an hour, worm, before I got the courage to get up and check my mail.
Three messages, and they had all come in in the last half hour. One was an electronic version of the note that had been slipped under my door, simply the official notification that I was under quarantine until one week from the present date. If I were still alive and well at the end of that time, I was to notify the proper department and they would process my petition for release.
The second note was from Gorbachev Science Center acknowledging my return and telling me that the
Alyosha’s
test launch was being postponed four days due to the outbreak, and requesting that I please inform them immediately in the event of any problems I might have with this schedule. Ha ha! I composed a brief reply informing them of my present scheduling conflict and assuring them that if I were still alive in a week’s time I would report for duty at the appointed hour.
Alyosha’s
test launch was being postponed four days due to the outbreak, and requesting that I please inform them immediately in the event of any problems I might have with this schedule. Ha ha! I composed a brief reply informing them of my present scheduling conflict and assuring them that if I were still alive in a week’s time I would report for duty at the appointed hour.
The third note was from Litvinov. It was very simple, worm, it told me what was happening. Serebryannikov and Verochka were gone already. Many of the others had begun to manifest symptoms and were expected to go soon. Litvinov was sorry and hoped I had better luck. If anyone survived he, or they, would write again in a couple of days.
But I never heard from any of them after that, worm, though I sent messages every day all that week.
Oh, worm, I’m afraid their Frivolity Symposium must have backfired;
Death must have come to inspect them, and decided he’d be unlikely to find a more gallant crew anywhere, and conscripted them immediately to join the hosts of Heaven. Don’t you think?
Death must have come to inspect them, and decided he’d be unlikely to find a more gallant crew anywhere, and conscripted them immediately to join the hosts of Heaven. Don’t you think?
But so much for Litvinov’s dream of homesteading that tumbledown resort, so much for dear Larisa with her bright smile, so much for crazy Antyuhin.
I cried, like the miserable weak creature I am, cried for hours. Only with terrible effort did I refrain from mailing Nan. Why sadden her with my helpless misery? The less she knew about this posting of mine, the better. I watched through swollen eyelids as the Wire broadcasts got more grim. Paratunka was devastated. The rest of Kamchatka got off fairly easily, but then as expected the plague traveled down to Vladivostok and so through Japan. There was some desperate hope that Korea and China might escape, that it might move on south, but no; after it had finished with Japan it turned, as though purposefully, and started in on Korea.
As though purposefully
.
.
I’m not sure now exactly when I began to form my theory, worm, but there was a point where I set aside my drink and made a conscious effort to sober myself up by the dull blue light of the Wire. When I had converted enough of the mess in my bloodstream into sugars and water, I looked at my idea again. Nicoletta?
What had she said? That she was looking after the mortals, giving them their vitamins so … so there wouldn’t be too many of them? What could she have meant?
She had been hiking up toward the reservoir when I’d first seen her. She’d been working her way through the Paratunka Valley, giving the mortals their—vitamins.
What was she doing, worm?
She was a Defective! And it occurred to me then that Nicoletta might have got some horrible idea in her head that the Sattes virus was a good thing—after all, a lot of mortals had thought just the same, when it was only attacking prisons—and decided to help it on its way, lest the world overpopulation problem continue. How easily one person with immortal abilities might slip over borders and do such a thing, I knew all too well. Traveling all the time … and the pattern of deliberate infection would be detected even by the mortals. There would be countless theories afterward that the Sattes virus had been part of a plot to reduce the world population, by taking draconian measures.
Most historians would decide that the prime suspect was the extremist Church of God-A, who preached drastic population reduction, though nothing would ever be proven. But what if it was one Defective with a big idea in her faulty little head? Dear God, I thought, I’ve got to warn somebody! She’s got to be stopped!
Ah, but, you see, worm, there was a slight problem here. Officially, there are no Defectives. The Company won’t admit to them. When that business with Courier had to be cleaned up, the Company sent in a covert operations squad; and I was informed, as clearly as they could tell me in oblique phrases, that nothing had really happened, and I was never to tell anyone that anything had. The Company has never made any Defective operatives. So whom might I contact with my warning?
Obviously the only safe thing to do would be to contact Labienus, the Northwest American Section Head at Mackenzie Base. He, after all, was the very one who’d been sent to deal with Courier’s little accident, he was the one who’d delivered that so delicately veiled threat to me as he’d departed. Surely if discretion were called for, I ought to contact Labienus and none other. Don’t you think, worm?
So I sat down at my keyboard and, after agonizing deliberation, composed the following communication: “Dear Executive Facilitator General Labienus, you may recall me from the year 1831 at the Fort Ross Colony, when we had occasion to speak. I understand you are doubtless a very busy man, but I should like very much to discuss a matter of mutual interest at your convenience. Respectfully yours, Marine Operations Specialist Kalugin.”
Beautifully circumspect and tactful, yes, worm? I thought so. And it must have worked, because within the hour my terminal beeped on a shrill frequency inaudible to mortals, had any been there with me, announcing that a message was coming in on a secured channel.
I interfaced hurriedly with the terminal.
Kalugin receiving
, I transmitted. And there came his signal, quite clear and even slightly cordial in tone:
Kalugin receiving
, I transmitted. And there came his signal, quite clear and even slightly cordial in tone:
Marine Operations Specialist Kalugin? Labienus here. What is this matter you wish to discuss?
So I explained, worm, as quickly as I could. I told him all about Nicoletta and my suspicions. He heard me out patiently and his signal, when he replied, was grave and thoughtful.
Yes, Kalugin, there’s no question you did the right thing by contacting me privately.
I appreciate your discretion. Very well; we’ll have her picked up immediately for interrogation. You understand, of course, that you’ll need to distance yourself from this unfortunate situation?
I appreciate your discretion. Very well; we’ll have her picked up immediately for interrogation. You understand, of course, that you’ll need to distance yourself from this unfortunate situation?
I answered that I understood perfectly. My only concern was whether or not it would impact on my mission. Labienus assured me there was no need to be concerned on that account and—
HEY! HEY, I’M HERE! THANK GOD, THANK GOD, THANK GOD! You see, worm? I told you! Well, you’ve been wonderful company and I truly appreciate all your efforts on my behalf, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to finish my fascinating story. I’ll be on the
Soter
in an hour or two, or possibly three, I’ve rather lost track of the time, and I think I’ll take a hot shower first—silly, isn’t it? With all the hot water I’ve been in lately, you’d think I’d have had enough to last me for a while, but actually sitting here under this black smoker has given me the most awful creeps, watching the sooty stuff rain down endlessly, I feel as though it’s all over me somehow and not just the hull of the
Alyosha
.
Soter
in an hour or two, or possibly three, I’ve rather lost track of the time, and I think I’ll take a hot shower first—silly, isn’t it? With all the hot water I’ve been in lately, you’d think I’d have had enough to last me for a while, but actually sitting here under this black smoker has given me the most awful creeps, watching the sooty stuff rain down endlessly, I feel as though it’s all over me somehow and not just the hull of the
Alyosha
.
I’ll request a weekend leave after this, I’ve got one due me, I’m quite certain, and I’ll go to Nan. Perhaps we’ll go somewhere together. Marseilles, perhaps, or Casablanca! Somewhere full of sunlight. I want sunlight, I want it by the bucketful, I want to walk in the warmth and the clean dry air and lie down in the yellow sand with her. She’ll make the nightmares go away. She can always make them go away. I’m never frightened when I’m with her, worm, I—
What are they doing back there?
What—?
They’re removing the fusion drive. They’re cutting it out with welding torches. They’re not answering my transmissions, worm.
Well, don’t be silly, of course they’ve got to be Company operatives! Mortal divers couldn’t work at this depth. It’s a pair of security techs in pressure suits, I’m certain. And they’re taciturn fellows, everyone knows that, so perhaps they’re just too busy to respond.
Oh …
And now they’ve gone.
They’ve left me here.
Why would they do that, worm?
Well, it seems I’m to impose on your hospitality a bit longer, worm. I’m really terribly sorry; I can’t think what’s happened. Unless the
Alyosha
with its fusion drive was too heavy for the winch on the
Soter
, and it was decided to bring it up in two dives? Yes, undoubtedly. And I’m sure the reason they weren’t hearing my transmissions was the mess that’s all over the hull from the black smoker, it must be full of metals in solution and that’s somehow blocking my signal. So. I suppose while I’m waiting for them to come back I’ll finish my story, shall I?
Alyosha
with its fusion drive was too heavy for the winch on the
Soter
, and it was decided to bring it up in two dives? Yes, undoubtedly. And I’m sure the reason they weren’t hearing my transmissions was the mess that’s all over the hull from the black smoker, it must be full of metals in solution and that’s somehow blocking my signal. So. I suppose while I’m waiting for them to come back I’ll finish my story, shall I?
Labienus told me to go ahead with my mission, you’ll remember. And that’s exactly what I did: waited in my sealed room a whole week, while the Sattes virus spread into China and Indochina. I stopped tracking its progress after the first few days. Too depressing. History records that the plague hit China and India particularly hard. I didn’t need to see the Wire footage to know what was happening. No, I lived off my cupboard shelf and out of my freezer, I watched film after film after film, I drank like a fish and occasionally sobered myself up long enough to send hopeful little communications to my colleagues at Gorbachev, letting them know I was still alive.
They let me know they were still alive, too. The decision had been made to go ahead with the launch, as I had known perfectly well it would be. The director intervened on my behalf with the City Council and the result was, I was spared a lot of bureaucratic delay. At the end of that week Miron Demyanovich was duly authorized to break the seal on my room. I was sitting there, shaved and combed and in uniform, when I heard the seal being cracked away and then the timid knock; and I opened the door to behold Miron Demyanovich with a biohazard mask over his pinched face, and two frightened-looking council members behind him.
I was manifestly alive and well, so they let me go. I reported to Gorbachev Science Center and underwent a series of tests, from which it was deduced that, yes, I was still alive and well, or at least alive and hung over. Then they stuffed me into the
Alyosha
rather hurriedly, and I kept my appointment with history.
Alyosha
rather hurriedly, and I kept my appointment with history.
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