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Dramatis Personae

Malaki

In the grand schemes of galactic politics Rainford was only moderately important. It was located halfway out along the dexter arm of the spiral in a relatively dense cluster of habitable worlds. The planet was in a major trade corridor but wasn’t a hub world. Those kinds of major crossroads came about when there was only one habitable planet in the sector and people had no choice about where to stop.

However the very fact that it wasn’t a high traffic world gave Rainford some perks. It was easy enough to slip down to the surface without attracting attention yet the local economy still had a lot to offer the traveler passing through. The local government was relatively independent as well. It wasn’t entirely in the pockets of a business concern or the Universities and the large tropical belt that gave the planet its name produced breathtaking mountains and forests that brought in some tourism.

On top of it all the planet had a particular appeal to Malaki. He had been born there.

The Skorkowski homestead was located on the Serrata Verde range, half an hour’s flight from Greenhaven spaceport. When Malaki had inherited it from his great uncle he’d installed a studio where he’d done some of his best work. It was also where he received his guests when they came to call.

Lavanya and Lin’yi were used to the half shaped slice of sandstone he used for a table and made themselves comfortable around it as he retrieved drinks from the minibar along the wall. He filled a kettle and held it up for their inspection. “Tea, ladies?”

“No, thank you,” Lin’yi replied. According to Bei’quan rules of hospitality it would be rude of him not to insist she take something to drink regardless but he’d learned years ago Lin’yi meant no when she told him no. She only observed her culture’s oblique form of hospitality on her homeworld.

Lavanya was not as reserved. “Black tea, if you have it.”

He flipped the kettle’s activator and set out two tea cups, the boiling kettle, two tea strainers and the pot of dried tea leaves on a tray and took it to the table. Lavanya took the offered cup and they spent a moment getting comfortable. As Malaki poured the tea he brought his patron up to date on what they’d learned, or rather not learned, on Effratha.

“You think this genetic technique would be valuable to Acropolis?” She asked once he was done.

“I’ll be a fascist if I know,” Malaki admitted, “the monetizing of that kind of thing is not my specialty. They could just want it because it’s an ancient technique. You know how the Hutchinsons are.”

Lavanya took an experimental sip of her tea and added, “Not that we know for sure that the experiment or assassination were funded by the Hutchinsons. It could just be the normal academic nonsense. Effratha has a fairly sizable Acropolis Trading hanger on its northern continent and you know how Agamemnon is about shady business in his own back yard.”

“It would be unlike him to have illicit and legal activity on the same planet,” Lin’yi said. “However his daughter is another story. I’ll have someone look into what they were bringing on and off planet and see if that sheds any light on things. Let’s assume for a moment ancient gene modifications are a part of the Hutchinson’s plans. How does that fit in to their other activities over the last year?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question,” Malaki said, sipping his tea as he looked out over his studio. Half a dozen sculptures in various states of completion were scattered here and there. The largest, intended to be an enormous human hand fashioned from abandoned coral, sat half finished under the main skylight, it’s grasping fingers half emerging from the lumpy surface. He’d started on it six months ago to help him get into the Hutchinson mindset.

Art, like the sidereal, was a study of juxtaposed specifics and abstracts. He’d chosen a grasping hand because it embodied what he saw as Agamemnon Hutchinson’s philosophy on life. The man had a passion for things. Not in the metaphorical sense, either, he was obsessed with matter and the ways he could sculpt it. In that respect he was very like Malaki. However, instead of shaping simple blocks of stone, wood or coral he shaped the placement of things in the galaxy itself. That was why Malaki had chosen to sculpt the hand on such a large scale.

The problem was the medium.

Malaki found himself pacing around the half ton lump of coral, the contents of his tea cup cooling in his hand. He’d chosen coral because the pylops could serve as a reservoir for etheric energy. Other than the human mind, living coral was the only thing known to human science capable of such a thing. Etheric energy was rooted in the sidereal and the sidereal was the light of distant stars. When he’d started on the Agamemnon sculpture he’d assumed that the interstellar scope was a foundational part of why Agamemnon created Acropolis Trading. Over time Malaki had come to suspect that was incorrect.

Neither Agamemnon Hutchinson nor his daughter Athena ever took any interest in the ships that hauled their product or the planets where their new offices were opening. The trade routes they used and the planets they operated on were chosen by underlings. Yet four times out of five when BaiTienLung tried to expand its operations in the dexter arm Acropolis Trading would find some way to shut them down and one of the two Hutchinsons would be personally involved every time.

At first Agamemnon had handled the job himself but lately Athena had been handling it more and more. It made sense. The old man wasn’t getting any younger, after all, and no one lived as long as…

Malaki slowly finished his tea and stared at the half finished coral hand as if seeing it for the very first time. “That’s an interesting notion.”

The two women were still seated at the table, talking to each other in low tones. Lin’yi straightened and turned towards him. “What have you figured out, Skorkowski?”

“It’s a bit of a wild guess.”

“If I wanted someone to make a stolid, rational inference from the available data I’d have hired another detective. Out with it.”

He crossed back, sat down at the table and refilled his tea. “Cold sleep and the confines of a colony ship are not the only hurdles the old colonists faced when they set out to cross the stars without jump ships. Even with the greatly reduced metabolism a person has in cold sleep, they won’t live forever.”

“Well you can’t gene therapy away old age,” Lavanya replied.

“My dear, that is exactly what you could do.” Malaki leaned back and stretched his legs out along the side of the table. “Believe it or not, genetic decay is a leading contributor to the aging process. With the right knowledge and more forgiving genetic therapy techniques its entirely possible that the aging process could be slowed or even stopped.”

“They’d have to be very forgiving techniques,” Lin’yi mused. She propped her elbows on the table and folded her hands under her chin, staring off into space. “I’ve seen virological DNA splicing studies. It’s a good way to treat extreme genetic defects but the toll it takes on the body makes it useless for anything else. It’s a field ripe for investment if the right breakthrough comes along. If Agamemnon could crack it then he’d be wealthier than even he’s ever dreamed of.”

Malaki studied her profile. The form fitting silk gloves, high necked, sleeveless dress and cinched waist pressed the woman into a tightly wound spring. It was a hard, severe look. When she’d removed her hat and veil a few strands of hair had pulled free from her bun and now drifted aimlessly around her round face and warm, dark eyes. As he often did Malaki found himself wondering if the contrast was deliberate. He wouldn’t put it past her. “It’s not about money, Lin’yi.”

She started slightly, as if the statement was so shocking it hit her like cold water, and gave him a sideways look. “What do you mean?”

“He’s fifty seven years old and his business empire is starting to slip into the hands of his daughter and their business partners. Is it so strange that he’d be willing to spend some of his spoils to be young again?”

“No.” She straightened up and sighed. “No, I suppose it’s not. It’s just not what’s usually on my mind when I think about him.”

Lavanya cleared her throat. “It’s a nice notion, I suppose, but it strikes me as silly for a couple of reasons. First of all, wouldn’t the human civilizations of two thousand years ago have less advanced gene therapies than us? And why would Essene University work on the ooze thing if that’s what they were trying to do?”

“A lot of technologies were lost during the galactic upheavals, along with the history and the lives,” Malaki said. “It’s hard to put together a list because some of them were forgotten entirely. But to give just one example we’re almost certain hard light projection was something ancient humanity had mastered. Now we only remember the concept. The Agartan resequencing is a genetic engineering feat of a similar kind. I’m not familiar enough with the field of genetics to guess why rediscovering it would be beneficial to lifespan extending therapies.”

“I know one or two people I could ask about it,” Lin’yi said. “Although with the unwritten taboo around human genetic tampering I don’t know how much there is to learn.”

“I should have used granite.” Malaki sighed and finished his tea and started clearing the serving tray.

“For what?” Lavanya asked.

“Agamemnon’s sculpture. I didn’t realize he was so concerned about his mortality otherwise I would have used something more durable as the base. Coral is a fine medium for certain kinds of work but it’s too pliable. I should have used something that really embodies a desire to resist to the bitter end, like granite or perhaps a hardwood.” He stood up and cleared the dishes away. “I’ll have to start all over again.”

“I don’t know if I can afford to wait two months for you to finish another sculpture,” Lin’yi said. “Do you have any other leads to follow up on?”

“I can put out some feelers but not at the moment.” He placed the dishes into the washing rack and slid it into the minibar’s small washer then hit start. A blinking light on the counter caught his attention. The house’s computer reported a message waiting in the communication center, addressed to BTL’s Regional Director. Malaki didn’t recognize the origin code attached to it so he looked it up. “Message for you, Lin’yi. It looks like its from a regional office somewhere called Wireburn?”

“Bring it with you, please?”

Malaki flicked the message onto a sheet of flexiplast and brought it over to her when he returned.

“You have an office on Wireburn?” Lavanya asked. “What could you possibly want there?”

“It’s the only settled gas giant in the galaxy. There has to be some kind of opportunity there, just no one has figured out what it is yet.” Lin’yi put a thumb on the flexiplast then scribbled some kind of code with her other finger. The message decoded into something ledgible.

“There’s a habitable gas giant out there?” Malaki considered that then shrugged. “Sounds like a downright tyrannical place to live.”

Lavanya shrugged. “I stopped by once while transferring from the dexter arm to the sinister but never broke atmosphere. Still, the moons seemed nice.”

Lin’yi folded up her flexiplast and stuffed it into her handbag. “I think I need to go back there soon. Today, if possible. Malaki, if you’re not planning to travel soon I’d like Lavanya to take me on the Skybreak. If that’s alright?”

Lavanya shrugged. “My retainer is paid up through the end of the month.”

“Is there an Acropolis outpost on this Wireburn?” Malaki asked.

“Not on the planet although there is one on one of the moons.” Lin’yi’s eyes narrowed. “There’s no indication the issue on Wireburn has anything to do with the Hutchinsons but I can’t rule it out.”

For a moment Malaki continued staring at the half finished coral hand. He’d stopped carving it because he didn’t feel like it was bringing him any closer to understanding Agamemnon Hutchinson and he wasn’t sure starting a second sculpture would do him any better. “No indication doesn’t mean much when they’re involved. Besides, you said you didn’t have two months to wait for more progress.”

“It’s not like the Skybreak can’t fit three people,” Lavanya added. “If he wants to come, why not?”

Lin’yi threw up her hands. “Fine. But I want to lift off planet in five hours.”

“Of course.” Malaki left the studio and headed towards his room, already assembling a list of things he’d need to bring on this new expedition. If Lin’yi was right about the unrealized potential of gas giants then she wasn’t the only one who would see it. The Hutchinsons would be there in some capacity as well. The only question was whether it would be as a legitimate business or something less savory…

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