Part 19 (1/2)
Leaning his heavy forearms on his desk, the doctor said, ”You are a.s.suming that the specialists who treated you with nanomachines are benign people. Suppose they are not? Suppose they put into you nanomachines that can...' he fished for an appropriate subject.
”Gobble up plastics?” Brudnoy suggested.
Joanna scowled at her husband.
”Destroy plastics,” the doctor agreed. ”Or invade computers and eat up their memory drives. Or destroy red blood cells in humans. Or attack the human immune system. Or-”
”Aren't you being melodramatic?” Joanna said, almost sneering at the man.
”This is what we fear,” said the doctor. ”You may think it is not important, but we cannot take such a risk.”
”I told you before,” Brudnoy said, ”we are not Trojan horses. Nor Frankenstein monsters.”
”How do you know?” the doctor shot back. ”You may have been infected without your knowledge.”
”Nonsense!” Joanna spat.
”That is a risk we will not take,” the doctor repeated firmly.
”Do you honestly believe that anyone anyone at Moonbase would inject us with nan.o.bugs that would be dangerous to Earth? Why would they do something like that? What possible reason could there be?” at Moonbase would inject us with nan.o.bugs that would be dangerous to Earth? Why would they do something like that? What possible reason could there be?”
The doctor folded his hands over his middle again. ”Mrs Brudnoy, the chances of such an event are minuscule, I admit. But the consequences of such an event-no matter how unlikely it may be-would be catastrophic.”
Joanna looked at Brudnoy, who shrugged helplessly.
”Those are my orders,” the doctor said. ”You are to be held here until the results of your blood tests come in.”
”Where are the tests being done?” Joanna asked.
”There are very few facilities with the necessary equipment and personnel who are capable of performing such tests.”
”Of course,” said Brudnoy. ”You've closed all the nano-technology facilities.”
”Where are the tests being done?” Joanna insisted.
”It is very difficult to a.n.a.lyze blood samples for nano-machines.”
”Where?”
The doctor hesitated, then said, ”At the University of Tokyo.”
”At a lab funded by Yamagata Corporation, I imagine,” Brudnoy said.
Joanna was too furious to speak.
DAY SEVEN.
”This is Edie Elgin, speaking to you from Moonbase.”
Edith smiled into the minicam being held by one of the technicians from the defunct Lunar University. Doug Stavenger stood beside the camera woman, smiling encouragement to Edith.
She looked bright and beautiful in a close-fitting sheath of cardinal red. Doug had appropriated his mother's wardrobe, the most extensive in Moonbase, hoping that she would understand and not be too angry when she found out. Edith had to do some fast alterations, and now she prayed that the dress would hold together without popping one of her hastily-sewn seams.
”Behind me you can see Moonbase's extensive farm,” she went on, thinking that maybe a popped seam would improve her ratings. If the s.h.i.+tfaced suits back in Atlanta put her report on the network at all.
”More than five hundred acres have been carved out of the lunar rock,” she said, reading the script she and Doug Stavenger had put together. The words appeared on the flat display screen attached to the minicam just above its lens.
”Here, deep underground, the agricultural specialists of Moonbase grow the food that feeds the two thousand, four hundred and seventy-six men and women who live at Moonbase. This corner of the farm,” she started walking toward a row of dwarf trees, ”is the citrus arbor, where fresh oranges, grapefruit, lemon and limes are growing...”
Edith described the hydroponics trays, bending down to show how the plant roots reached down not into soil, but into liquid nutrients that were carefully matched to each plant's needs. She walked down one of the long rows, pointing out soybeans, legumes, grains and leafy vegetables.
”Over in that enclosed area,” she pointed, ”biologists are experimenting with growing plants in an atmosphere that is higher in carbon dioxide than normal. The scientists need to wear breathing masks to work in there.”
Edith explained the full-spectrum lighting strips that ran along the farm's high ceiling. ”This artificial sunlight is on twenty-four hours a day. Moonbase's farm never knows night, and its crop yield is more than five times the yield from a similar acreage on Earth.”
She showed the flower bed that Lev Brudnoy had started years ago in lunar soil. And the pens of rabbits and chickens that provided Moonbase's meat. She did not mention the need for nitrogen, which had been imported from Earth but now would have to be mined from asteroids...o...b..ting near the Earth-Moon system, just as the carbon for building the diamond Clippers.h.i.+ps was mined.
”Before the current crisis erupted,” Edith went on, walking smoothly to an area where two large t.i.tanium tanks stood empty, with holes where piping should be attached,'this area was going to be used for an experimental aquaculture section. The idea was to use some of Moonbase's precious water to grow fish, frogs and alga. Aquaculture can yield more protein per input of energy than even Moonbase's advanced hydroponic farming can, and the water can be recycled almost completely.”
Her smile faded, her face grew serious. ”Unfortunately, the aquaculture project has been put on hold while Moonbase's leaders and the political leaders.h.i.+p of the United Nations discuss independence for Moonbase.”
The camera panned slowly across the farm's rows of hydroponics tanks as Edith continued: ”Moonbase can feed itself. Even though no s.p.a.cecraft has been allowed to land here for a week-except for the Peacekeeper troops who attempted to seize Moonbase-the men and women of this community on the Moon are self-sufficient. The question before the world's leaders now is: Will Moonbase's determination to be free be allowed to flower into true independence?”
The camera stopped on Brudnoy's little flower bed.
”This is Edie Elgin, at Moonbase.”
”We're out,” said the camera woman, lowering the minicam and its awkward prompter screen.
”Good work,” Doug said, reaching out to shake Edith's hand.
”And I didn't mention nanomachines once, did I?” Edith said, grinning back at him.
”You did a great job,” Doug said.
Edith's grin faded. ”Now I've got to get the suits to run the d.a.m.ned thing.”
Still clutching her hand, Doug started toward the airtight hatch that led out of the farm. ”I've got an idea about that.”
”Oh?”
”You talk to Atlanta, I'm going to talk to Kiribati.”
Tamara Bonai was on the rooftop of the Tarawa Kiribati Hotel and Casino when Doug's call came through. As chairwoman of the board of the Kiribati Corporation, her responsibilities to her people were many and weighty. She knew that the Americans and Europeans regarded her people as childish islanders and regarded her as little more than a figurehead, an attractive front for the real power behind the corporation: Masterson Aeros.p.a.ce and its board chairman, Ibrahim al-Ras.h.i.+d.
Until the Moonbase crisis rose up like a sudden typhoon, Bonai had been content to be regarded as a figurehead. Kiribati Corporation was making good profits from its owners.h.i.+p of Moonbase, where the diamond Clippers.h.i.+ps were manufactured for sale all over the world, and from its hotels and casinos, scattered across a dozen islands in the broad Pacific. A strange combination, nanomanufacturing on the Moon and resort hotels on tropical islands, but no stranger than other corporations that took their profits wherever they could find them.
Her father had bequeathed the corporate responsibilities to her. The old man had spent as many years as he could stand behind a desk; finally he had declared his early retirement and gone off to fish and play with his grandchildren. Tamara, the youngest of his five daughters and the only one still unmarried, inherited his desk.
With it came gradually building pressure from the United Nations to force Kiribati to sign the nanotech treaty. Knowing that it would mean the death of Moonbase, Bonai resisted as long as she could, looking to Masterson and the other international corporations for help. They gave none. She was especially surprised, even hurt, that Ras.h.i.+d stayed aloof from the struggle with the U.N. There were raging arguments in the Masterson Corporation board of directors. Joanna Brudnoy fought for Moonbase's survival. But Ras.h.i.+d insisted that the nanotech treaty was unavoidable; sooner or later they would have to obey it.