FAREWELL

Grant threw a robe over his hospital gown and followed the two guards out into the dimly lit corridor. It was still nighttime throughout the station. “Dawn” was at seven, when the lights in all the public spaces turned up to their daytime brightness. The corridor was empty; no one else was in sight.

“This way,” said one of the guards. They were both bigger than Grant, hard with muscle, unsmiling.

“Dr. Wo’s office is down the other way,” Grant said.

“He’s not in his office. Come on.”

With growing trepidation, Grant went along with them. He couldn’t think of anything else to do. His legs felt rubbery, not entirely under his control. The biochips, he told himself. I can’t even walk well; if I tried to run I’d probably fall on my face. Besides, where could I run to? If these two are Zealot assassins, he reasoned, they would’ve killed me in my bed. And Egon, too.

Still, he didn’t feel reassured by his attempt at logic. Killers aren’t always rational, he knew.

With growing desperation he tried to think of some way out of this, some tactic to save his life. Nothing. He followed meekly, frightened but uncertain of what lay ahead, unsure of what he could do, what he should do, to save his life. This must be how the Jews felt during the Holocaust, he thought. Who can help me? Where can I run to?

At last they reached the heavy metal hatch that sealed off the aquarium. As one of the guards opened it, Grant asked the other, “Are you going to drown me?”

The guard’s granite face broke into a sardonic smile. “I thought you could breathe underwater.”

They gestured him through the hatch, then led Grant down the long row of thick windows, the lights from the fish tanks playing fitfully along the narrow passageway. The hard metal floor felt cold to Grant’s bare feet. The fish seemed to be watching, big-eyed, their mouths working silently. The dolphins glided along in their tanks, smiling as ever.

Sheena! Grant realized. They’re taking me to Sheena’s pen. She’ll tear me apart and it will look like an accident.

His mind was racing. Maybe I can get Sheena to help me. If only I could show her that I’m her friend … if only she could overlook that one time I hurt her.

Something was blocking the passageway near the gorilla’s pen. Grant saw that it was Dr. Wo in his powered chair. The guards stopped a respectful twenty meters from the station director. Grant walked the final steps alone, shakily.

Dr. Wo looked up at Grant from his chair, a strange little half smile on his lips. “Mr. Archer, the medical doctors tell me that you are fully recovered from your injuries.”

Grant nodded, awash with relief that he wasn’t about to be murdered.

“I am leaving the station tomorrow. I have been replaced as director here.”

“Leaving?” Grant blurted. “They’ve kicked you out?”

Wo actually grinned at him. “They have kicked me upstairs. It is a compromise worked out between the New Morality and the IAA. I will go to the IAA center in Zurich and assume the directorship of the entire astrobiology program.”

“But the work here … the Jovians …”

“That is for you to continue. And Dr. Muzorawa, when he returns.”

“He’ll be returning?”

“Once he has recovered, yes. I have nominated him to be my successor. Both the IAA and the various religious factions have agreed. But he will not participate in any future missions into the ocean.”

Grant thought that over for a few seconds. Zeb’s coming back. He’ll be the station director. And I’m expected to continue the studies of the Jovians.

He said slowly, “Then the New Morality hasn’t totally gutted our work.”

“How could they? The entire world is watching us now, thanks to you. Some are fearful, many are curious. You have opened a new chapter in human history, Mr. Archer.”

“Not me. I didn’t—”

“You had the presence of mind to broadcast Zheng He’s findings to the entire world. No one could keep our discoveries secret once those data capsules began singing their song.”

Grant’s legs felt too weak to hold him up. He leaned his back against the cold metal wall and slid down to a sitting position.

“The religious fanatics are very angry with you, Mr. Archer,” said Wo. “The Zealots want to kill you.”

“What good would that do them?”

“Not much, but they are furious and frustrated. An evil combination.”

Grant suddenly remembered, “They killed Irene Pascal, didn’t they?”

Wo’s expression hardened. “Dr. Pascal’s death was an accident. An inadvertent suicide.”

“No,” said Grant.

“Yes,” Wo insisted. “She took an overly large dose of amphetamines, which led to her death in the high-pressure environment aboard Zheng He.”

“Irene didn’t take the drugs knowingly,” Grant said.

“A board of inquiry has examined the incident. They have made their decision. The case is closed.”

“It wasn’t an incident,” Grant snapped. “It was a murder!”

Wo’s voice took on a steely edge. “No, Mr. Archer. Let it rest.”

“But I know—”

“The case is closed!”

For a long moment the two men stared at each other, eyes locked. Grant could not fathom what was going on in Wo’s mind. But he knew his own thoughts: It may be over for you and your board of inquiry, he said silently, but it’s not over for me. I know Irene was murdered and I know who did it.

“The IAA has appointed Dr. Indra Chandrasekhar as interim director here.”

Grant stirred out of his inner turmoil. “Chandrasekhar? I don’t know her.”

“Your recognition is not a prerequisite for the position,” said Wo, smiling thinly.

Grant made no reply.

“She has been heading the studies of the Galilean moons. A very good leader. She comes from a long line of excellent scientists.”

“She’ll be in charge until Zeb returns?”

“Yes, and you will direct the studies of the Jovian creatures that you found in the ocean,” Wo said, his smile widening. Then he added, “Whether they are intelligent or not.”

“They’re intelligent. I’m convinced of that.”

“Good! Now all you have to do is prove it so completely that the rest of the world will believe it.”

“Including the New Morality?”

Wo laughed. “The New Morality, the Holy Disciples, the Light of Allah … even the Zealots.”

Grant nodded, accepting the challenge. The first thing I’ll have to do is go over the data we recorded. We can slow down the visual imagery so we can see the pictures the whales are flashing to each other. We’ve got to repair Zheng He or maybe build a new vessel…

Dr. Wo broke into his train of thoughts. “It will be necessary for you to remain here.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“You have earned a release from your Public Service obligation, of course. You could go back to Earth if you wish.”

“But the work is being done here.”

“Exactly. And—frankly—you are much safer here than on Earth, where some Zealot fanatic can murder you.”

There’s a Zealot fanatic here on this station, Grant thought. At least one. And I know who it is.

“Beech is keeping me incommunicado,” Grant said. “Egon and the women, too. I can’t even get a message out to my wife.”

Dr. Wo nodded knowingly. “I have seen to it that you can have the freedom of the station. You needn’t be confined to the infirmary. As for messages home…” He shrugged his heavy shoulders. “I’m afraid Mr. Beech has the upper hand in the communications department.”

Grant stared at the older man. It’s a struggle, he realized. A battle between Wo and Beech. Neither side has a completely free hand. And I’m caught in the middle of their power struggle.

Dr. Wo intruded on his thoughts. “Very well, then, Mr. Archer. There is one last farewell for you to make.”

“Farewell?” Grant asked.

Wo gestured toward Sheena’s darkened pen.

“Sheena’s leaving?”

“We have no further need of her. Perhaps the dolphins can be of help in your attempts to establish meaningful contact with the Jovians, but Sheena is too much like us to be of any aid in your work.”

“What’s going to happen to her?”

Wo sighed heavily. “The simplest thing to do would be to sacrifice her. Then we could dissect her brain and—”

“No!” Grant shouted.

Raising both his hands placatingly, Dr. Wo said, “I agree. It would be a criminal act. I am taking Sheena back to Earth with me, to a primate research center in Kinshasa. They are quite eager to have her, in fact.”

“She’ll be all right there?”

“She will be welcomed. They have augmented several other apes. Sheena will not be an anomaly there. If all goes well, she will be the mother of a new breed of creatures, the founder of dynasties. And another challenge to the fundamentalists.”

“She’ll be protected there?”

“By force of arms, if necessary. She is an extremely valuable entity.”

Grant felt a glow of satisfaction. “She’ll be among her own.”

“I believe so,” said Wo.

“I wish…” Grant could not finish the sentence. He swallowed hard and fought back tears, feeling embarrassed to be emotional about a gorilla.

Wo touched the keypad built into his chair’s armrest, and the overhead lights brightened to their daytime level.

“I can make the sun rise,” he said wryly. “One of the privileges of being station director.”

And Sheena wakes up with the sun, Grant remembered. He turned expectantly toward the entryway to her pen. Will she still be angry at me? he wondered.

Very gently, Wo said, “She asked to see you.”

“She did?”

“When I told her you had been injured, she became rather upset.”

Grand didn’t know what to say.

He heard her shambling out of her pen, huffing and snuffling like anyone who’d just awakened from a good night’s sleep. As he scrambled to his feet he caught a trace of the thick animal scent of her. Then Sheena appeared in the entryway, massive hairy shoulders brushing both edges of the open hatch.

“Grant,” the gorilla rasped.

“Hello, Sheena.”

She turned her eyes briefly to Dr. Wo but immediately looked back at Grant. “Grant hurt.”

“I’m all right now, Sheena. I’m fine.”

“No hurt?”

“Not anymore,” said Grant. “It’s good to see you, Sheena.”

“Sheena no hurt.”

She remembers the neural net, all right, Grant realized. But maybe she’s forgiven me for it.

The gorilla glanced at Dr. Wo again, then took a knuckle-walking step toward Grant. Grant extended his hand to her, palm up. Sheena reached out her enormous hand and touched Grant’s palm lightly.

“Grant friend,” she said.

“And Sheena is my friend,” he replied.

“Yes. Friends.”

Dr. Wo broke in, “Sheena and I are going to a new place where Sheena will make many new friends.”

The gorilla seemed to consider this for a moment, then said, “New friends. Grant, too?”

“I’m afraid not, Sheena. I’ve got to stay here for a while. Maybe later I’ll come and see you.”

“You come. See new friends. See Sheena.”

“I will,” Grant promised, hoping that he would one day be able to keep his word.