Ben Bova - New Earth

He woke and sat up on the cot, thinking, How lucky you are, Jordan Kell. To find another woman who loves you. You had to travel more than eight light-years to find her, but find her you did.

For long moments he sat there and watched the dawn brightening the dome of the bubble tent. At last he told himself, Now you’ve got to do what’s necessary to keep her.

And that means convincing Harmon to accept Adri and all he had told them.

A pang of memory assailed him as he shaved: Miriam’s last agonized days. But then he realized that the memory was his subconscious mind’s way of showing him a way to solve his problem.

Dressed in slacks and an open-necked shirt, Jordan found Meek in the dining area, his breakfast laid out on the table before him as precisely as a military formation. Longyear was sitting beside him, the two of them leaning their heads together in intense conversation.

Jordan filled a tray with juice, buttered toast, and a steaming mug of coffee, then went to their table and sat down facing the astrobiologist.

“Good morning, all,” Jordan said cheerily. “May I join you?”

“Of course,” said Meek. Longyear nodded.

De Falla came up and started unloading his tray opposite Jordan. “Good morning,” he said as he sat down.

Meek nodded at the geologist, said nothing as he reached for his glass of juice.

“I’m going back to the city this morning,” Jordan said as he lifted his own juice glass. “Anyone want to come along with me?”

“I’m busy with the geological mapping,” said de Falla. “Adri’s people have promised to send me a detailed profile of the planet’s interior.”

“It must be fascinating,” Jordan said, “working out how they constructed this planet.”

De Falla nodded warily. “It’s hard to believe, constructing a whole planet. But it’s true. That’s what they did.”

“That’s what they claim they did,” Longyear objected.

“No, Paul,” said de Falla, “they did it. This planet’s been built around a hollow shell. We’re standing on fourteen kilometers of dirt and rocks. Then there’s the metal shell, and inside it nothing but an energy generator that creates the gravitational field we feel.”

Longyear glanced at Meek, who said nothing, busily slicing the omelet on his plate.

“Thornberry’s working up the specifications of their grav generator,” de Falla went on. “He says it could make a tremendous weapon, handling all that energy.”

“A planet wrecker,” Longyear muttered.

Jordan said, “Perhaps it would be best if we didn’t bring that level of technology back to Earth.”

Meek’s brows rose. “Will they let us return to Earth?”

“Yes, Harmon,” Jordan replied. “I’m sure they will.”

“When?”

“When we’re ready to leave, I should imagine.”

“I thought you said we were their prisoners,” Meek said.

“Adri won’t keep us here against our will. His whole approach to dealing with us has been to answer our questions, honestly and forthrightly.”

“But not completely.”

Patiently, Jordan said, “Harmon, we’re like schoolchildren, compared to Adri’s people. We have a lot to learn, and they’re being very patient with us.”

“But you think they’ll allow us to leave?” Longyear asked.

“When we’re ready to, yes.”

“I wonder.”

“Come into the city with me and ask Adri yourself, Paul.”

Longyear seemed to think it over for a heartbeat, then he said, “All right, I’ll do that.” He hesitated, then added, “I’ve been thinking about taking them up on their offer to teach me what they know about biology.”

Meek looked up from his plate, startled, a forkful of omelet in midair.

“I mean, Mitch has learned a helluva lot about physics from them. I’d like to learn what they know about biology.”

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” said Meek.

“It’s damned tempting,” Longyear said.

“So was the apple that Eve gave to Adam.”

“You think we’re going to damn ourselves?” Longyear challenged.

“I think we’re in over our heads,” said Meek.

Jordan smiled and said, “Harmon, if we are in over our heads, wouldn’t education be a good way to get our heads above water?”

“Education or mind manipulation?”

“Does Mitchell seem different to you? Manipulated?”

Meek stared at Jordan for a wordless moment, then turned his attention back to the remains of his omelet.

As gently as he could, Jordan said, “Harmon, I’ve got to let Nara examine me. Would you go with me?”

“Examine you? What for? Are you ill?”

“It’s just a routine exam. I picked up a bug before we left Earth and she wants to keep an eye on it.”

His eyes narrowing with suspicion, Meek asked, “And why do you want me to accompany you? Are you afraid she’s going to stick you with a needle?”

Longyear suppressed a laugh; de Falla grinned openly.

“Not exactly,” said Jordan. “But I’d appreciate it if you came along with me.”

Meek said nothing, clearly wondering what was behind Jordan’s request.

“Of course,” Jordan said easily, “if you have something more important scheduled for this morning…”

“No,” Meek confessed. “My schedule is rather clear.”

“Then come along with me,” Jordan coaxed. “Please.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Meek said, “Oh very well. If it will make you happy.”

“It might make you happy, too, Harmon,” said Jordan.

Nara Yamaguchi looked surprised when Jordan and Meek entered her infirmary. It was in the same tent as the dining area and kitchen, a placement that seemed amusing to several of the team.

Tanya Verishkova joked about the efficiency of having medical help so conveniently close to the robotic cooks in the kitchen. “Potential poisoners,” she called the robots.

Yamaguchi was sitting at her desk, studying medical records, when Jordan and Meek came in. The infirmary was small: her desk was tucked into one corner. Most of the space was taken up by the examination table and the compact array of diagnostic sensors built into an arch over the table.

Looking up from her display screen, she asked, “What can I do for you?”

“I’d like a checkup,” said Jordan.

Clearly puzzled, Yamaguchi said, “Now?”

“Now,” Jordan answered. “And then I’d like you to show Harmon my medical record.”

Her round face took on a troubled frown. “Medical records are private, Jordan. You know that.”

“But you can allow Harmon to see my record if I request it.”

“I suppose so.” Reluctantly.

Nodding toward the examination table, Jordan said, “Let’s do a scan first.”

Meek seemed totally baffled as Jordan removed his shoes, belt, and pocketphone, then lay back on the table for a full-body scan. The astrobiologist folded his arms across his narrow chest and watched, almost suspiciously, as the instruments arching above the table hummed and beeped.

Yamaguchi gestured toward her display screen. “Clean as a whistle, same as the last two times.”

Jordan nodded and said, “Now will you kindly show Harmon my earlier scans?”

“Why do you want this?” Yamaguchi asked.

With a wintry smile, Jordan replied, “To show Harmon the truth.”

There was no other chair in Yamaguchi’s office, so she got up and offered Meek her own. He looked across at Jordan, then folded his lanky body into the little wheeled chair. It rolled slightly away from the desk and Meek reached out his long arms, grasped the edge of the desk, and pulled himself back.

“What am I supposed to be looking for?” he asked Yamaguchi. “I’m an astrobiologist, not a physician.”