Dek had a strained look on his face. “We’d damned well better find out. You get it don’t you? He’s a Grunnel. And as soon as the family hears about this, they’re going to be wanting blood. And, people, that’s the kind of trouble you really don’t want to have.”

Chapter 30

  30  

Kalico stared out of her battered A-7’s side window as the shuttle flew out beyond the shore where the crater bottom gave way to the Gulf. She could see the white strip of beach curving northward before arcing toward the northeast. From this elevation, the surf line was thin, the shallows greenish-azure before surrendering to the royal blue of deeper water.

To Soukup, sitting in the middle seat, she said, “We built a pad just up from the beach so that we could recharge airtrucks. The Maritime Unit wouldn’t support the weight of the shuttle, and none of the airtrucks had enough range to make the trip. We never got the chance to start the rotations. The slime was killing people, subverting the children.”

“Why didn’t you take measures when it was first apparent that the research base was in trouble?” Soukup gave her a piercing look.

“I had been asked to leave, not to mention I had other priorities at Corporate Mine. Specifically, the Number Three.”

“We’ll get to that,” Soukup told her. “You are the Corporate Board Appointed Supervisor. Your word is law. Even if you were asked to leave, you have the authority to dictate behavior. Why didn’t you?”

Kalico felt that little worm of doubt begin to wiggle in her gut. “I told them that. In hindsight I would have ordered the base evacuated, cut it loose, and used the A-7s to carry it to the mainland. Probably set it at the Southern Diggings. It would have made a hell of a lot better base to start exploiting that deposit. If the Number Three hadn’t caved in, I might have.”

Then Kalico fixed on Soukup’s evaluative gaze. “Or maybe I wouldn’t. Making decisions after the fact is an easy exercise. That they, and I, underestimated the slime might be readily apparent at this moment, sitting in these seats. It wasn’t that day I left the Maritime Unit. You’ll get a better idea when you depose Vik Lawrence. She’ll let you inspect Felix’s body. We’ve got it in cryo.”

“Why have you not had your scars repaired?”

The question—seemingly out of the blue—left her puzzled. With a shrug, she said, “Dr. Raya Turnienko is many things, but she is no plastic surgeon. Until such a specialist comes to Donovan, I’ll deal with the scars.” She held up her hand, displaying the white lines that crisscrossed her skin. “And in the meantime, they serve as a reminder that Donovan is always ready to kill you.”