“Alright, let’s say we do it,” he said hoarsely. “The only person who can code something like that into the genetic synthesizer would be…”
“Jennifer,” Verne finished grimly.
*****
Jennifer crossed her arms on her chest. She was petite and ten pounds on the right side of plump, and Sean couldn’t help but note that the way her arms were crossed pushed her breasts up and out.
Sean took his eyes from her chest and stared at the ground. That had been a problem all along. He knew it. He wasn’t sure if she knew it, and it worried him to think that she might. It may have turned out fine, possibly they could’ve even become a couple, but after Ickman had left, Jennifer was named his Joint Team Leader, which meant that she was the only person he could argue with without fear of entering a leader-subordinate relationship. And they argued a lot.
Sean took a deep breath. “I apologize for what I said earlier. I do concede that not all supporters of Autonomous System Structure are naive, slack-jawed, starry-eyed rich kids, who seek to alleviate personal guilt caused by their life of privilege. I also would like to say that a strong centralized government does have its weak points. And that I take back anything bad I’ve said before that could possibly piss you off.”
Jennifer brushed back her brown hair. “What do you want?”
It took him ten minutes to get through the explanation.
“You’re insane,” she said. “Absolutely not.”
“Jennifer…”
“There’s a reason why it’s illegal, Sean! You can’t introduce a man-made species into an ecosystem. It can wipe the whole biosphere out.”
“We only need one. You could make it sterile.”
“No.”
“Jennifer, I beg you…”
“Ha!”
He desperately raked his mind for a way to convince her and found none. “Look,” he said miserably. “There are fifteen people who gave two years of their lives to study and assess this planet. Their careers will be destroyed. It will reflect badly on both of us – in the entire history of Survey, there has never been an instance when a team hasn’t turned in a Final Evaluation Report. Except for Captain Chef, but that doesn’t count because he and his crew were eaten. But that’s not even the important part. The important part is that without the survey report we can show no basis to support preservation. They’ll chuck this planet for development. The trogomets, the tari trees, the dwarf cows, the ino, all of it will be gone.”
She was looking at him. He took her gently by the elbow and turned her around to the window.
Long-stemmed grasses shivered in the light breeze, dotted by pale red flowers with white stamens that sparkled in the sun. In the distance, in a soft patch of Maiden’s hair weeds, a herd of dwarf cows watched two small calves butt heads with mock ferocity. Beyond the field, the tari forest rose like a jagged mountain ridge, silver, tall, and majestic. Above it all long feather-brush strokes of clouds highlighted the crystalline depth of the emerald sky.
*****
“Emily, I want you to understand what’s at stake here,” Jennifer said.
Sean remembered to unclench his fists. They sat in front of the Workstation, tapped into the mainframe of the unmanned orbital laboratory. The complex interface of the genetic synthesizer filled the screen. Verne hovered somewhere in the shadows behind them like some menacing guardian of the cybernetic treasure trove.
“You can never, ever, ever tell anyone about this,” Jennifer continued. “Otherwise all of us would lose our jobs and Sean, Santos, Verne, and I would go into a controlled habitat. I realize this is a lot of responsibility for a fourteen-year old. I’m sorry to have to ask this of you.”
“I understand,” Emily said. “I promise not to say anything. I give my word.”
Jennifer took a deep breath. “Very well then. Let’s begin. It’s a chimera, so give it to me piece by piece.”
“Head of a snake,” Emily said. “Body of leopard. Haunches of lion. Feet of a deer.”
“What are you selecting as the primer?” Sean asked.
“A Polberian running lizard,” Jennifer answered.
“It doesn’t sound like a lizard,” he said.
“Sean, shut up. Go on, Emily. What else do we know?”
“It was big. It made noise like forty baying hounds. It lived to be hunted and it was smart, because one time when Pellinore stopped hunting it, it came and found him.”
“We don’t want it too smart,” Sean said.
“I can’t guarantee the baying,” Jennifer said.
Sean thought of saying that he doubted she could guarantee anything. For all they knew the whole thing would come out as a puddle of goo, but under the present circumstances, he decided against voicing his opinion.
*****
Sean stood in the field, knee-deep in grasses. Somewhere a taina bird sang a trilling song. They had yet to catch one.
The incubation of Questing Beast took two days. They had less than twenty four hours until the Committee’s arrival.
A falling star winked into being. It blazed across the sky like a glittering emerald and streaked toward him. The pod. Finally.
The star grew into a white ovoid. For a moment it looked like the pod would plunge into the ground, and then the guides kicked in pulses of intense white flame, righting the pod, slowing the fall, and gently bringing it down in the middle of the field.
A hairline crack split the pod’s surface. Sean stared at the developing door with a sick feeling. Behind him Jennifer made a small noise.
The door swung upward, revealing the dark interior. Something stirred within the gloom, something large and alive. A long head attached to a flexible neck appeared from the darkness, elegant, narrow, almost equine rather than reptilian in its lines. Big eyes with cobalt-colored irises regarded them. The Questing Beast blinked and stepped into the grass.
“Dear Gods,” Sean said.
Lean and graceful, it stood on four muscled legs, ending in wide hooves. Silver fur, dappled with a spray of pale green and carmine rosettes, sheathed its body. A long silky mane flared on its sinuous neck.
It didn’t look like a chimera. It looked like a cohesive being, like nothing he had ever seen before, and it was beautiful.
The Questing Beast opened its mouth and a clear voice issued forth. “Dear Gods.”
Sean’s heart jumped into his throat.
Behind him Verne exhaled. “Oh, shit!”
“Oh, shit,” the Questing Beast said.
“It’s a mimic.” Jennifer strode toward it. “I told you I couldn’t guarantee the baying.”
“Jennifer!” Sean barked sharply. “Don’t get close to that thing!”
“Oh, please.” She reached over and the head dove to her hand. “It’s an herbivore.” She rubbed Beast’s silvery nose and it licked her palm with a long pale tongue. An odd noise emanated from it, as if it had swallowed a beehive and now the infuriated bees fought to escape.
“See,” Jennifer said. “It’s purring.”
Sean remembered to breathe.
“Well?” Jennifer asked. “Where is Nanny?”
Sean turned and waved his arms at Emily standing by the corral. She vanished behind the feed block and reappeared a moment later, followed by the Nannybot astride a dwarf cow fitted with a bridle and reins. The cow seemed surrendered to her fate.
“Is that a net he’s carrying?” Sean wondered.
“Emily’s idea,” Jennifer said. “He has to catch the Beast.”
The bizarre group approached them. Sean stood aside. “Sir Pellinore! This is the Questing Beast. Beast – Sir Pellinore.”
Nanny’s ocular unit swiveled. The Questing Beast blinked.
Without a word, Nanny dug his limbs into the cow’s ribs. The startled bovine jerked forward, the Questing Beast moved in a silver shimmer, and just like that both were gone, galloping across the plain, the lean elegance of the Beast followed by the bouncing Nanny on top of the orange puff of fur.
> In a couple of breaths they reached the forest and vanished from the view.
“Ummmm,” Sean said. “Did what I think happened just happen?”
Nobody answered.
“What now?” he demanded.
“Now we hope Nanny catches him in his net,” Emily said.
“Did you see how fast it was?” Verne scowled. “He’ll never catch that thing.”
Santos shook his head. Sean glanced at the forest. Verne was right. Nanny would never catch it…
“It was me,” Jennifer said.
He looked at her. She swallowed visibly.
“I initiated the transmission that the millipede rode. It was me. I logged on after Sean. So blame me.”
Verne turned on his heel and took off toward the forest, punctuating each step with grim determination.
“Where are you going?” Sean called out.
“I need a new stick,” the Chief Programmer answered.
*****
The seven members of the Committee sat at the table like the keepers of keys to Hades, sitting in judgment of the sinners on the crossroads between Tartarus and Isles of the Blest. Sean didn’t even know their names, only the fields they represented. At least Jennifer sat next to him.
Somehow the fact that they would go to the Tartarus of Destroyed Careers together brought him no comfort.
The Education/Science Member regarded the stack of loose paper sheets in front of her. Some of the paper was frayed and dirty. A couple of pieces, probably from Val, had food stains on them. In his mind Sean saw himself shrinking until he disappeared into nothing with a faint pop.
“We have looked through the notes,” the Business/Industry Member said. “We found them unsatisfactory.”
Sean cringed.
“You are aware that in the history of the Survey no team has failed to turn in the Final Evaluation Report?” the Environmental/Health Member said.
“Except for Captain Chef,” Jennifer said. “Because he was eaten.”
“In our defense,” Sean said, “we would both prefer to have been eaten.”
The Education/Science Member gave him a stony stare.
“What I meant to say was, there are extenuating circumstances.”
“Indeed,” the Social/Cultural Member nodded. “However, they do not change the fact that we are here and the FER is not.”
Sean opened his mouth…
The door burst open and Santos dashed inside, flushed and winded, and for a moment Sean thought the stoic Chief of Security was having a heart attack.
“Nanny’s back,” Santos breathed.
In a blink Sean was off his seat and out the door. People crowded the small stretch of grass before the Block 7, and in the whirlwind of faces, he saw Nanny’s familiar gangly form. It was riding the Questing Beast.
“The Independent Biological Reasoning Unit is reporting operational status,” Verne said.
Sean spun about to see the Committee exiting the Block.
“Two hours!” he cried. “Give me two hours, and I’ll have the FER.”
The Education/Science Member was looking at the Beast.
“What is that?” she said softly.
“A recent find,” Jennifer improvised. “We call it the Questing Beast after Mallory’s Arthur myths. Would you like to pet it? It purrs.”
*****
The Nemurian sunset was burning slowly. Against the deep emerald sky, the silvery ino trees seemed to glow.
Sean heard steps behind him, but the vista was too breathtaking and he was too tired, so he stayed where he was, leaning against a low fence. Someone took a spot next to him. He glanced over. Jennifer.
Two trogomets scuttled from the brush, jumping over each other.
“They recommended preservation,” she said.
He said nothing.
“I thought I’d be relieved,” she said. “I’m not. I’m still wound up so tight, it hurts.”
“Give it time to sink in,” he murmured. “Merlot.”
“What?”
“Merlot. It’s a varietal of Terrestrial wine grape. That’s what the air smells like.”
She closed her eyes. “I was trying to cross-reference the migration data with the warming patterns. Pen was asleep, and I thought I’d take a shortcut and just pull the data from the orbital myself. I logged on after you did and didn’t run it through the Great Wall. I’m sorry. I was so tired … and then when everything started breaking down, I just couldn’t…” She bit her lip. “I should’ve said something. I feel like scum.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You said something in the end. That’s all that matters.”
She glanced at him, brown eyes warm.
“Do you think we’ve done the right thing?” he wondered.
“Too late to worry about it now,” she said. “I requested the extended tour, so if any complications arise I’ll be here to handle it.”
“I signed up for the extended tour too,” he said.
“I know. I’d checked.” She touched his hands with cool fingers. He reached out and put his arm around her and felt her snuggle against him.
Together they watched as the thousands of tiny white fireflies spilled from the puffy dandelions of the ino-ino fruits and danced on the night breeze.
*****
The Questing Beast sniffed at a spot beneath the knotted roots of a tari tree. Around it the forest shivered, full of sounds and life. The Questing Beast scratched the ground with its hoof, squatted, and laid an egg.
THE END
About the Author
"Ilona Andrews" is actually two people, my husband, Gordon, and I. We write urban fantasy, an odd hybrid of a genre that includes elements of mystery, fantasy, and horror. Our stories are set in a modern setting that has a touch of paranormal to it. Right now we are working mainly on two different series: Kate Daniels and The Edge. We don't take ourselves too seriously. Come visit us at https://www.ilona-andrews.com
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