Kemp nodded. “We did tests on ourselves, and found nothing. That’s not definitive, though. I found nothing initially out of the ordinary in Pritchard’s blood sample, either. But it would explain why they’re obsessed with getting back to him. He has been, for better or worse, chosen in some way.”

“I’m going to order blood tests for everyone,” Captain Jennings said. “Negative results may not be definitive, but a positive result would be. We need to know.”

Kemp nodded. “I’ll get the sick bay ready.”

* * *

A line-up wound along the corridor from the sick bay. Dr. Kemp was quick and efficient, and anyway no one really wanted to engage in chit-chat. At two minutes per person, the crew was soon back in the common room, doubtlessly spinning ever wilder theories.

Ivan was still out. Kemp couldn’t believe that so much had happened since the man had been infected. Kemp sighed quietly and walked over to look down at him. Poor sap. The infection, or whatever it was, seemed to be going to great lengths to avoid harming him, or even causing him any discomfort. A good sign, certainly. But even if this turned out to be ultimately benign, he was going through hell. In addition to his own health, he had to be worried about how his family would be affected. Although the strike at Big Rock would help with—

Dr. Kemp felt behind himself for the intercom button. Without turning, he pressed it. “Astra? Page the captain please. Tell him Ivan’s other limbs have started to metallize.”

16.We’ll Handle It

16.We’ll Handle It

The captain ended the call with a barely audible groan of frustration. Well, the good news was that no one else seemed to be infected. The bad news was that Ivan Pritchard continued to be converted—to metallize, as Dr. Kemp put it.

And Chief MacNeil had confirmed the worst: the nanites were moving freely about the ship, harvesting metal, and returning it to Pritchard’s body to build his replacement parts. No critical systems had been affected. In fact, according to the chief, the nanites appeared to be spreading their depredations around in order to avoid adversely affecting any equipment.

Nevertheless, the potential downside was without limit. In theory, once finished with Pritchard, the nanites could start on the rest of the crew. In theory, if the Mad Astra returned to Earth, they could release this scourge on the human race. Gray Goo apocalypse, indeed.

This was no longer a containable situation.

The captain reached for the intercom. A lot of preparation would be required.

* * *

“What is the status of the claim, Ms. Generus?”

Generus pursed her lips for a moment. “Everything is textbook, sir. We’ve forwarded all data to the auction house. Bids are coming in from the conglomerates. Closing date is three days away. Just the reserve price will make a single-share owner a half-billionaire.”

“At what point is the deal irrevocable?”