John Scalzi: The Observers

Define “problem,” Wilson sent.

“We’ve finished the autopsy,” Lowen sent. “Physically there was nothing wrong with Cong. Everything looked healthy and as close to perfect as a man his age could be. There are no ruptures or aneurysms, no organ damage or scarring. Nothing. There is no reason he should be dead.”

That indicates foul play to you? Wilson sent.

“Yes,” Lowen said. “And there’s another thing, which is the reason I’m talking to you. I took some of his blood for testing and I’m seeing a lot of anomalies in it. There’s a concentration of foreign particles in it that I haven’t seen before.”

Poison compounds? Wilson asked.

“I don’t think so,” Lowen said.

Have you shown them to Stone? Wilson asked.

“Not yet,” Lowen said. “I thought you actually might be more help for this. Can you receive images?”

Sure, Wilson sent.

“Okay, sending now,” Lowen said. A notice of a received image flashed in Wilson’s peripheral vision; he pulled it up.

It’s blood cells, Wilson sent.

“It’s not just blood cells,” Lowen said.

Wilson paid closer attention and saw specks amid the cells. He zoomed in. The specks gained in size and detail. Wilson frowned and called up a separate image and compared the two.

They look like SmartBlood nanobots, Wilson finally sent.

“That’s what I thought they might be,” Lowen said. “And that’s bad. Because they’re not supposed to be there. Just like Cong isn’t supposed to be dead. If you have someone who isn’t supposed to be dead and no physical reason that he should have died, and you also have a high concentration of foreign material in his blood, it’s not hard deduction that the one has to do with the other.”

So you think a Colonial did this, Wilson sent.

“I have no idea who did this,” Lowen said. “I just know what it looks like.”

Wilson had nothing to say to this.

“I’m going to go tell Stone what I found and then I’ll have to tell Franz,” Lowen said. “I’m sure Stone will tell Coloma and Abumwe. I think we have about an hour before this all gets bad.”

Okay, Wilson sent.

“If you can think of something between now and then that will keep this from going to hell, I wouldn’t mind,” Lowen said.

I’ll see what I can do, Wilson sent.

“Sorry, Harry,” Lowen said, and disconnected.

Wilson sat silently for a moment, watching Abumwe and Doodoodo as the two of them danced their verbal diplomatic dance about what was the correct balance of trade between starships and biomedical scanners. Then he sent a priority message to Abumwe’s PDA.

Take a ten-minute break, it said. Trust me.

Abumwe didn’t acknowledge the priority message for a few minutes; she was too busy hammering on Doodoodo. When the Burfinor representative finally managed to get a word in edgewise, she glanced down at her PDA and then glanced over at Wilson with a nearly unnoticeable expression that no one else would register as, You have got to be fucking kidding me . Wilson acknowledged this with an equally subtle expression that he hoped would read, I am so very not fucking kidding you . Abumwe stared at him for a second longer, then interrupted Doodoodo to ask for a quick recess. Doodoodo, flustered because he thought he was on a roll, agreed. Abumwe motioned to Wilson to join her in the hall.

“You don’t seem to be remembering our discussion from last night,” Abumwe said.

“Lowen found what looks like SmartBlood nanobots in Liu’s blood,” Wilson said, ignoring Abumwe’s statement. “If Stone hasn’t updated you about it yet, you’ll get the message soon. And so will Meyer and the rest of the observers.”

“And?” Abumwe said. “Not that I don’t care, but Liu is dead and these negotiations are not, and you didn’t need to interrupt them to give me an update I would be receiving anyway.”

“I didn’t interrupt you for that,” Wilson said. “I interrupted you because I need you to have them give me that scanner test unit back. Immediately.”

“Why?” Abumwe said.

“Because I think there’s something very fishy about SmartBlood nanobots being found in Liu’s bloodstream, and I want to get a much better look at them,” Wilson said. “The equipment in the medical bay came standard issue with the Clarke when it rolled off the line fifty years ago. We need better tools.”

“And you need it now why?” Abumwe said.

“Because when today’s negotiations are done, the shit is going to hit the fan,” Wilson said. “Ambassador, a diplomat from Earth is dead and it looks like the Colonial Union did it. When Meyer and the rest of the observers get back to the Clarke, they’re going to send a drone back to Phoenix Station and to the Earth’s mission there. They’re going to be recalled and we’re going to be obliged to take them back immediately. So you’re going to fail this negotiation, there’s going to be a deeper division between Earth and the Colonial Union and all the blame is going to come back to us. Again.”

“Unless you can figure this out between now and then,” Abumwe said.

“Yes,” Wilson said. “SmartBlood is tech, Ambassador. Tech is what I do. And I already know how to operate these machines because I worked with them while I was evaluating them. But I need one now . And you need to get it for me.”

“You think this will work?” Abumwe asked.

Wilson held his hands out in a maybe? motion. “I know if we don’t try this, then we’re screwed. If this is a shot in the dark, it’s still a shot.”

Abumwe took out her PDA and opened a line to Hillary Drolet, her assistant. “Tell Doodoodo I need to see him in the hall. Now.” She cut the connection and looked back to Wilson. “Anything else you want? As long as I am taking requests.”

“I need to borrow the shuttle to go back to the Clarke, ” Wilson said. “I want both Lowen and Stone to watch me so there’s no doubt what I find.”

“Fine,” Abumwe said.

“I’d also like for you to drag on negotiations today as long as you can,” Wilson said.

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Abumwe said.

Doodoodo appeared in the hallway, eyestalks waggling apologetically.

“And if at all possible, you might want to get that deal done today,” Wilson said, looking at Doodoodo. “Just in case.”

“Lieutenant Wilson, I am already far ahead of you on this one,” Abumwe said.

“Someone in this room is a killer!” Wilson said.

“Please don’t say that when they actually show up,” Lowen said.

“That’s why I’m saying it now,” Wilson said.

Wilson, Lowen and Stone were in the medical bay, awaiting Abumwe, Meyer, Bourkou and Coloma. Coloma was on her way from the bridge; the others were coming from the shuttle that had just docked.

“They’re on their way,” Lowen said, glancing at her PDA. “Franz tells me they wrapped up the negotiations today, too. Abumwe apparently got an excellent deal for the scanners.”

“Good,” Wilson said, and patted the scanner he had been using. “Maybe that will mean I can keep mine. This thing is sweet.”

Coloma arrived; Abumwe, Meyer and Bourkou followed a minute after.

“Now that we’re all here, let’s get started,” Wilson said. “If you’ll check your PDAs, you’ll see some images I sent to you.” Everyone in the room aside from Wilson, Stone and Lowen reached for their PDAs. “What you’re seeing there is a sample of Liu Cong’s blood. In it you’ll see red and white blood cells, platelets and also something else. That something else looks like SmartBlood nanobots. For those of you from Earth, SmartBlood is the non-organic substance that replaces blood in Colonial Defense Forces soldiers. It has superior oxygen-handling properties and other benefits.”