Chapter 33: Liaising in Biome 7
The biomes were big by any kind of Earth standards. They were basically domed platforms. Their size demanded that the construction materials be sourced from the asteroid itself or other space rocks. They were placed in high orbit around the Earth and a dome was constructed over the sculpted ‘ground’ section. Gravity control systems were installed. Once the dome was sealed, the inside was terraformed to mimic the destination planet.
The morning was a busy one for Jayne. She was driven to do any job to the best of her abilities and this job was one she never expected she would have to do. She felt she had to prove her worth. First impressions were critical. Everyone was much older than her pretend 18 years. As far as these people were concerned, she was still a baby. Jayne smiled at the truth of the matter. She viewed 18 as ancient. If they knew her real age, they probably would not even allow her in the room. She set about to prove she was a capable LO. She had to take control. She could only do that by impressing the omie leaders and impressing the coordinator fixer, Cornelia Banks.
Jayne arrived early. She saw a middle-aged man seated in the ante room outside the main meeting room. He stood when she entered. Jayne looked at him and, without any pleasantries, he asked, “Who are you?”
Jayne responded by looking around the room, slowly bringing her gaze back to him. She spoke calmly and clearly, “Cassandra Kai.” She turned away from him and opened the door to the meeting room.
“Just a min—” he started, but she cut him off.
Jayne turned sharply and spoke. “I want this to be a comfortable meeting and I want you to ensure that the participants are looked after. I want some appropriate fresh food and beverages on that table before the meeting starts. Turn on the air conditioning. The room is stuffy.” She turned back to the room and pointed at the far wall. “Does that wall have electronic windows like those in the LO’s quarters?” She did not wait for a response. “If so, make sure they are programmed with Biome 7’s scenic vistas. Some soft unobtrusive background music that complements the scenes on the electronic windows would also be nice.” She turned back to him. “Do you have any questions?”
He shook his head. The mention of the liaison officer’s quarters startled him. He was not about to question the LO’s authority. Jayne continued to stare at him as if she had not understood the head shake.
He spoke, haltingly. “No questions, sir, I mean ma’am, I mean miss. I will order the food and drinks right away and yes, the wall has electronic windows.”
“Great.” She paused, thinking about the comfort of the participants. She turned to the attendant. “How do the omies handle the increased gravity in the meeting room?”
“Miss?” he responded, as if he did not understand her question.
“The gravity? How do the omie representatives feel about meeting in a gravity that is much greater than the one they are used to?” Jayne asked. “It must be very tiring.”
“I do not understand. They are omies and we are fixers. They are meeting here. Sometimes we meet there.” He gestured vaguely to the rest of the biome. “It all works out.”
“It does? I know that enduring low gravity for a few hours is a lot easier than enduring high gravity. Who do I talk to in order to lower the gravity in the meeting room to Biome 7 normal?” she asked curtly.
“I can request that but…” he paused, “the last LO always wanted to meet in Earth normal. He said that low gravity upset his stomach.”
“How did he ever spend any time in the biome? How could he know what was going on if he never went out to see the people and their situations first hand?” she asked, perplexed.
“May I speak frankly, miss?” he asked in a way that suggested that he was about to tell a very important secret.
“Please,” responded Jayne quickly.
“Well, the last LO sort of viewed the omies as, well, as second class. Not as good as he was, being a fixer liaison officer and all. There has not been a lot of love lost between the two groups, especially the omie group from the colder environment. They are feeling like they are being ignored by Biome Central. There have been a lot of complaints about strange deaths in the higher elevations,” he said.
“What kind of strange deaths? I read the latest reports and I saw nothing about strange deaths. The most recent seemed to be easily explained. As I remember, they were both accidents. One was a fall from a tree and the other, an attack by some kind of carnivorous cat. Is that not correct?” she asked.
“I suppose,” he said. A dubious inflection was left hanging at the end of the words. His desk VID beeped and he glanced at it. “I must attend to your requests,” he said.
“Yes. And you can call me Ms. Kai. Now, where can I freshen up?” Jayne asked.
“There is a restroom through there, Ms. Kai,” he said and he pointed to the far end of the room. Jayne walked to the restroom. As soon as the door closed behind her, she let out the air she had been holding in her lungs and grinned at herself in the mirror. She felt an overwhelming urge to wash off all the makeup she had put on her face. It wasn’t much but it was enough to itch and taste bad. She suppressed the urge and only dabbed the lipstick at the corner of her mouth.
She exited the restroom and, without a word, walked out of the meeting room area. She was early. She walked into the rotunda and looked in the windowed rooms as she passed. There was a cafeteria, a recreation room and the gym. All were empty. She stepped into the gym and looked at the equipment. She felt totally out of shape. She wanted to work out very soon. She thought of Joseph Kane and wondered where Poppy was going to send him because he could not stay here. He would blow her cover the first chance he got. She stepped on a treadmill, set it to 1.5 standard gravity and five km per hour. A few minutes later she relaxed. The exercise pushed the stress aside. She glanced at her VID. She was not late. She headed back to the meeting room.
None of the omie representatives had arrived. Jayne entered the meeting room. Her requests were all in place, including the lower gravity. She placed her VID on the far side of the long table facing the open doorway. She stood in the doorway in order to greet whomever arrived.
Cornelia Banks and an aide, who was carrying a case of large format magnetic scribes, arrived. The aide set about placing a scribe at each place at the table. “Hello, Ms. Kai,” she said as she handed her a scribe. “This is the fixer agenda for the meeting. I am sorry you did not get it earlier but things have been a little harried lately.”
The aide whispered something in Cornelia Bank’s ear. She turned to Jayne, smiled and said, “Nice touch.”
Jayne frowned.
Cornelia continued, “The gravity—and the food. This meeting might not be as onerous as it usually is.”
She looked up at a group of people in quiet conversation, walking down the hall toward her. They were almost all women and obviously knew each other. Their style of dress was not biome neutral. The women were dressed in multicolored frocks and the single man wore a rather plain dark-grey suit. Heavy silver jewelry seemed to be very fashionable. All wore a myriad of rings, brooches and necklaces, some of which were encrusted with rough cut, semi-precious stones. All the apparel must have been created on the biome because only basic work jumpsuits were imported from the planet below.
One of the women moved to the front of the group. She spoke with a musical lilt to her voice but her eyes were sharp and almost black. It was difficult to tell where the iris stopped and the pupil began. “Cornelia,” she said, “how are you? It has been a while. As I recall, the last meeting was cancelled by Mr. White. Something about the stomach flu or some such. How is he, by the way? I heard he was transferred to some desk job on one of the HUBs.” She smiled a very insincere smile. “We will all miss him.”
She turned to Jayne. “Hello. I don’t think we have met. My name is Akila Okiro. I—” she turned and gestured to the rest of the women and corrected herself, “we represent the lowland tribe. I am their spokesperson. And this gentleman,” sh
e looked at the man in the grey suit, “is Mr. Campo. He represents the highlanders.”
Campo nodded. One got the impression that there was no love lost between Okiro and Campo.
“I’m—,” Jayne’s mind raced looking for her name. For a fraction of a second, she could not find it. She felt like an alien on a strange new world who needed a translator in order to understand even the simplest of gestures. She pushed the fear aside and spoke. “I’m Cassandra Kai. I am your new liaison officer. And, yes, I know I look too young for the job but I am sure you will find that I am very competent. I will try to meet the needs of both your tribes and the fixers to ensure that Biome 7 is ready when the Great Day of Departure arrives.”
Jayne’s face held a stern expression but inside she was giggling at the absurdity of actually speaking the words that just came out of her mouth. She turned and gestured to the meeting room entrance. Everyone entered and took their seats. Jayne smiled at the rumble of appreciation for the platters of fruit and the low gravity. As she sat down, she scanned all the faces. They were all smiling, except Mr. Campo. His face, as well as his disposition, was neutral.
After all the introductions were made, Cornelia began. The LO’s job was not to run the meeting but to act as a mediator when disagreements arose between the groups. Biome 7 was unique in that there were two biome tribes instead of the usual single tribe. It was also unique in that the lowland tribe was totally matriarchal. Men of the tribe had chosen not to take leadership roles. In the beginning, there was only one tribe, but differences in philosophy resulted in the split.
Cornelia began, “In front of each of you is a scribe sheet showing the locations of standard maintenance. Highlighted in green are projects that are presently in progress. Red triangles indicate areas that are in need of investigation. I will be asking the two tribes about these locations in order to obtain your perspective.”
Jayne said nothing. As far as she was concerned, she would do and say nothing as long as there was respectful communication between the groups. She sat quietly as each of the tribe leaders spoke regarding the various problem areas in the biome, from damaged crops due to lack of water or the breakdown of specific radiation shields in the dome, to excessive vibrations emanating from the O2 systems. Each problem was discussed and a process that would lead to a solution was agreed upon. There was little to liaise. She found herself drifting along with her thoughts, when the words ‘deaths’ and possible ‘murders’ met her ears. She perked up.
Akila Okiro spoke. “It is not the fact that people died but the way they died, and the final condition of the bodies, that has me concerned.”
Mr. Campo spoke softly. “I agree. These types of deaths are curious, to say the least. Three young boys were up by the snowline looking for a good sled hill. Their bodies were discovered two days ago, after the snows receded. They looked like they had been butchered. There was some evidence of animals having gnawed on the bodies but the strange thing was their eyes.”
“What was strange about their eyes?” asked Jayne quickly.
“There weren’t any. Many of their other organs were also gone. Obviously ravaged by a slasher cat or, more likely, a high wolf pack,” he said and he shrugged with bafflement. “The fact that their eyes were missing is very puzzling.”
“The condition of those bodies sounds similar to the two bodies found last week in the hardwood forest,” said one of the women from the lowlands. She turned to Jayne. “Two sisters were found under a pile of leaves. Their father found them. It was terrible. Our entire tribe is still in mourning.”
“I am not sure this is a fixer problem,” said Cornelia.
“Well, it is somebody’s problem,” snapped Akila.
“With due respect, our job is to keep the biome in good working order and not to run around investigating suspicious deaths. In fact, according to the constitution of this biome, the inhabitants have structures in place to deal with situations like this,” stated Cornelia Banks flatly.
“That is true,” said Campo. “However, my investigators have suggested to me that these deaths were not accidents and it is extremely unlikely that any biome dweller is responsible.” He let the next obvious statement hang.
Cornelia stood up. “I hope you are not suggesting that one of my fixers is responsible!”
“Actually, I am not suggesting that. I have checked all the fixer schedules for the last four months and not one of your people has been near any of the areas where the deaths occurred. That does not exonerate them but it does greatly reduce the likelihood of fixer involvement,” stated Campo. He waited for someone else to fill in the blanks. He waited for someone to state what they were all thinking.
Jayne glanced around the table. The expectant faces of the meeting members turned and stared back at her.
“Well, the obvious conclusion is that a person other than a resident or a fixer is responsible. Since no one else is legally allowed to enter a biome, we must look to illegal means and persons with nefarious intent,” responded Jayne, in her best Cassandra Kai voice.
There were murmurs and nods of agreement around the table.
Jayne stood. “I will investigate these events. I am, as of yet, unwilling to call them murders by unknown persons until I have some evidence. Please send all your reports on the events to my office and I will start a formal investigation.”
The meeting finished with all eating the provided food and agreeing that it was a wonderful idea to lower the gravity. Jayne returned to her quarters. She found herself remembering what life used to be like before she became someone else. She smiled at the thought of her adventures with Spike in the Biome 3 practice pods, of her first GravBall game in the HUB, of Joseph Kane following her around during the first day of her apprenticeship, and the group of scientists she met just before getting her number. She could clearly see the old woman scientist, the one who seemed to know her. She especially remembered the old woman’s eyes. She remembered her sharp, green, young eyes.
Jayne felt a rush of realization. A dark-skinned old woman with green young perfect eyes was unlikely. The obvious answer was that the eyes were not hers, but transplanted from someone else. She grabbed her VID, popped in an entangled tab and sent an emergency icon to Poppy Greenway.