“I wouldn’t call it a party, but Jarvis and the team are very satisfied with themselves. They broke out two bottles of Cascordia wine – the red kind, not the blue.”

  The Parson-made wine, fermented from a strain of grapes invented by one of the first pilgrims, dominated Aeternan dinner tables – when supply kept pace.

  “Will I find them drunk?”

  “Not at all. When Jarvis said he was contacting you, I confiscated the second bottle and told them to temper their indulgence. They tolerate me at best, sir.”

  “Which means you’re holding them to the regs. Great job, Neva.”

  She led him inside Dome 1, the heart of the research. Phasic lab tools dominated tabletops along with plant and soil samples. A series of holographic desk plates around the outer perimeter illuminated with many of the intricate data sets Exeter left behind on Lioness. These, however, seemed more colorful in convoluted graphics.

  The three Aeternans and one pilgrim expert assigned to the Trevia outpost broke huddle when the Lieutenant announced Exeter.

  Jarvis Pellem, whose curly and dyed black hair offered a break from the blond hegemony, set down his glass and approached the Commander with a bent neck and eyes that never fully zeroed in on the target.

  Jarvis said he acquired the tic during childhood on a planet where locals treated him as a freak. His wasn’t a rare story among the Bouchet immortals. Exeter damn well vouched for that.

  “I ... I’m-meant to save a glass of wine for you, Commander, but the sour one here ...” He pointed to Lt. Saludi.

  “Is partial to the regs,” Exeter said. “Not to mention in charge of this facility. I’ll be sure to toast you from Lioness if your breakthrough changes the game.”

  Jarvis wagged a forefinger, which trembled as if uncontrollable.

  “Change ... I-I that’s a dicey word given our cir-circumstance. May I suggest we are ... oh ...”

  The pilgrim, a freckled man in her twenties from Narland, filled in the blanks.

  “Advancing the game, Commander. You’d agree, Jarvis. Yeah?”

  The lead biologist nodded with a playful rush and asked Exeter to follow him.

  “We have a station r-ready to go. And ... oh ... I know you hate when we go long ... long-winded with the jargon.”

  “I don’t hate jargon. I’ve been a military man most of my life. I prefer clear intel I can understand the first time.”

  Without being condescended to ...

  “Not a worry.” The biologist pointed to a holo which featured several overlapping microscopic images. “Tell me. How well do ... oh ... do you understand amino acids?”

  Exeter avoided an eye roll.

  “I didn’t have a traditional education, but I know the basics. They’re the building blocks of life.”

  “Yes. When they combine to form proteins. And ... oh ... do you know of the basic structures of proteins?”

  Exeter pointed to the holos.

  “I assume this is what you’re showing me.”

  Jarvis expanded a graphic simulation displaying a simple linear chain of amino acids.

  “The pri-primary. The sequence of amino acids will determine not only how it folds or ... or ... alters shape, if you will. It determines the protein’s role in a given or-organism.”

  Jarvis took Exeter through the fundamentals, highlighting the varied shapes of the secondary, tertiary, and quaternary structures, the last of which he emphasized.

  “These interlaced sequences are the most complex by far because ... you see ... they can be f-found in hemoglobin or antibodies, for instance. Critical, yes?”

  “Sure, Jarvis. Keep going. I’m with you.”

  The biologist glanced at his team as if nervous about discussing the next bit. He downsized the first holos and expanded another. Exeter saw a complex chain wrapped in a tight sphere.

  “To which of the four structures w-would you say this belongs?”

  “At a glance, I’d assume quaternary. Many sequences interlace.”

  Jarvis laughed, but it fell as awkwardly as his speech patterns.

  “You would say this be-because I only gave you the four options that represent proteins in stable form. But ...”

  “Out with it, Jarvis. Please.”

  “Proteins also have a quinary structure, with a k-key difference. Quinaries are fleeting. The sequences change based on new cellular conditions. Elastic, so to speak. Hard to study. Hard to capture. When we first encountered this structure w-weeks ago, it appeared briefly in a few bentwheat samples and disappeared.”

  His urgent tone led Exeter to a conclusion.

  “But lately, you’ve been seeing it more often.”

  Another member of the team expanded a series of holos to Exeter’s right. Hundreds of images featuring different cellular structures graced the dome’s inner perimeter. A red glow highlighted the presence of the spherical protein.

  “It’s everywhere,” Jarvis said.

  “Define everywhere.”

  “We have outposts in six different ecostems. Our teams have stu-studied six hundred ten different flora and eighteen species of animals. They all contain this protein.”

  “And that’s a problem. Why?”

  “Commander, all life has amino acids, but proteins are designed unique to the or-organism. Bentwheat proteins will not resemble what we find in a snoop rat or a blue b-beetle.”

  Jarvis motioned toward the lab samples, which contained samples from everything Exeter saw outside, along with a small cage containing a pair of rodents.

  “What is this protein’s function?”

  “No idea.”

  “That’s not helpful.”

  “We’ve tried to identify the function, but there’s a p-problem. We can’t penetrate it.”

  Now Exeter worried.

  “With all our tech. Why not?”

  Jarvis motioned to the pilgrim, who expanded a holo that magnified the single protein. Exeter’s cheeks fell. The surface structure appeared to shimmer.

  “It’s synthetic,” Jarvis said.

  “So, it’s not a protein at all.”

  “Oh, it is, just not like any we’ve ever seen.”

  Every bad scenario popped into Exeter’s mind. He glanced back toward the egress, where Lt. Saludi stood guard. He considered her reaction to bentwheat mites.

  “Could it be a virus?”

  Jarvis must have already evaluated the possibility, as he replied:

  “Thankfully, no. We have ruled it out. We have also analyzed everyone’s blood, including the Lieutenant. We don’t carry the pro-protein. It’s not airborne or in-in the water.”

  A tiny bit of good news, but far from conclusive.

  “The longer you talk, the more questions I ask. How can a synthetic protein suddenly appear in plants and animals?”

  “It can’t, Commander. Not in nature.”

  “So, you’re saying it was there all along, but it only just recently became visible.”

  Every team member nodded.

  “We checked our findings against Aldo Cabrise’s study grids. There’s no f-finer ... he was a man of great detail. Obsessed, even. We found no match for this protein. But we did find a puzzling correlation. The breakthrough I mentioned.”

  “OK. I’m waiting.”

  “How long, Fedor?” Jarvis asked the pilgrim, who checked a time stamp on his wrist pad.

  “Fifteen seconds.”

  “Watch the protein, Commander. Pay close attention.”

  Exeter gazed at the spherical structure. The pilgrim counted down. On cue, the protein’s surface shifted like a nest of snakes. Flashes emerged from tiny crevasses. The entire movement lasted two seconds then the sphere reset.

  “That’s not a simulation?”

  “No,” Jarvis said. “It’s live. Did you see the lights?”

  “Flashes. Yes. What are they?”

  “Fedor, show the overlay.”

  Exeter received a still image at the instant of those flashes. He counted seven pinpricks. A graphic overlay connected them, as if linking the stars of a constellation.

  “OK. What’s the significance?”

  “Aldo discovered a common chemical signature on the borders between ecostems. He de-determined it was residual Jewel energy, likely part of their terraforming matrix to recreate this planet. Watch what happens when we overlay that signature against the sphere.”

  Exeter had a good idea what to expect; he wasn’t let down. The geometric shape matched the Jewel energy except for a tiny variance in one corner.

  “It’s a ninety-seven percent match,” Jarvis said. “The protein is powered by residual J-Jewel energy.”

  Exeter turned to the team.

  “Everyone here agrees with his conclusion?”

  They affirmed in unison.

  “And the other outposts, Jarvis?”

  “Unanimous.”

  “OK, here’s my big question: Is this a product of the chasm, or do you believe it’s planetwide?”

  “Yes ... uh ... no. We don’t have a s-sample size to be certain. Our tests are limited to the chasm’s perimeter. We’ll need to expand our range. Send t-teams to every region.”

  The logic struck Exeter as reasonable but conservative.

  “I’ll see to it. But for now, what do you believe?”

  Jarvis hesitated, so the pilgrim Fedor interjected.

  “To speak plainly, Commander, this protein surely exists in everything native to the planet. Given how it was created, combined with Aldo’s extensive records, we should expect to find a unique property common to all Aeternan life. The bigger issue is why we are only now seeing this protein.”

  “OK, Fedor. Do you have a theory as to why?”

  The pilgrim looked askance at Jarvis, as if waiting for permission.

  “It’s f-fine. We must be open to all ideas. Tell him.”

  Fedor straightened his shoulders and brimmed with confidence.

  “The Jewels have awakened this protein as part of the Change. I believe it has been lying dormant since before Settlement. Like the chasm, it is the next phase in the Jewels’ plan for Aeterna.”

  Exeter nodded. He heard many wild theories since the chasm appeared, some not far off from this one.

  “And that plan?”

  Fedor shaded his eyes.

  “That is as far as my speculation will take me.”

  Exeter did not have trouble asking the next logical question.

  “Let’s say you’re right. The protein is inside everything native to Aeterna. We have been eating its fish, fruits, and vegetables for decades. Despite what your blood tests say, the protein would have to be inside us, too. Correct?”

  Jarvis intervened.

  “Yes ... and no. Our immune responses vary from mortals. It’s possible we’re c-capable of rejecting the protein.”

  “Fine.” Exeter didn’t want the speculation to diverge into black holes. “From what I can see, you have four questions to answer. Is it worldwide? Is it inside us? What is its function? Is it life-threatening?” He glanced around the room. “That about cover it?”

  No one objected to Exeter’s analysis. They spent the following half hour discussing the broad strokes of their next steps. Afterward, Jarvis and Lt. Saludi followed Exeter outside the dome.

  “I wish the news could have been b-better,” Jarvis said. “Or at least more decisive.”

  “No. This counts as a breakthrough. We’ve spent two months pursuing even the vaguest clues as to what in ten hells we’re facing. Maybe this lead will start us on our way.”

  Jarvis, still unable to stare Exeter in the eyes, sighed like a man with a burden.

  “Fedor left out one part of his theory, where he’s n-not as secure. He believes the Jewels wanted us to make this discovery. He believes it is a part of a long pattern. First, Aldo’s discovery of the chemical signatures along the ecostem borders and then Shoan Gui’s theory that those signatures pointed to what Aldo called the algorithmic k-key. Fedor believes they want us to be active partners in whatever lies ahead.”

  Exeter had considered countless possibilities and made lists of reasons predictable to outlandish. One memory stuck with him.

  “Right before the chasm formed, Shoan Gui told us, ‘Fear will always be the wrong response.’ I’ve wondered if he was offering sound advice or manipulating us. If you’re bringing it up now, Jarvis, I assume you agree with Fedor.”

  Jarvis nodded.

  “He’s bold but never rash. To be honest, Commander, he’s the smartest man on my team. Thank you for allowing him to join us. I know you worry about including pilgrims out here. But now that we’ll need to expand our reach, I hope you’ll allow us to add more. The satellites have a number of highly qualified specialists.”

  “Dozens, if need be. I’ve reviewed the list. The problem is trust. They’re not invested in Aeterna like we are. Too much information has already leaked to the outer worlds. I have to consider global security.”

  “Even a handful will help, sir.”

  Exeter needed a smoke and a drink to contemplate this move.

  “Everything’s on the table, Jarvis. I promise.”

  They shook hands, and Jarvis retreated inside. Lt. Saludi followed Exeter to the Scramjet.

  “I’m curious, sir. Will you add pilgrims?”

  “Not if I can work around it. I allowed Fedor Lenov on the team because Jarvis begged. Fedor has a spotless history. Keep this under wraps, Neva. Four spy probes entered our system in the past ten days. Our deep-range patrols blasted two, but the others jumped away. It bothers me that factions are so curious about what’s happening here, they’d program unmanned worm jumps. They know our defenses wouldn’t allow them more than a minute to scan for long-range data, which is by and large worthless.”

  “Do you and the Admiral fear they’ll become more aggressive?”

  Exeter sighed.

  “Why peek when it’s easier to ask?”

  Saludi shook her head.

  “There have been no official inquiries, sir?”

  “We’re not sure what to make of it. We also agree with the Council: No intel sharing until we have answers. And even then ...”

  “You worry about spies among the pilgrims.”

  Exeter bit his lip then kept his reply within safe limits.

  “They’re under contract. Some expire in a few weeks or months. If one saw an opportunity to make extra UCVs ... well.”

  He left out the part where he couldn’t exclude immortals from possible betrayal.

  “Understood, sir. They’ll not hear a word of it.” She saluted. “Have a safe jump to Lioness.”

  Exeter returned the salute and triggered the Scramjet to open the starboard egress. A few yellow moths flittered near the aft Carbedyne fins. He prepared to hop inside, but a small oddity caught his eye. Exeter approached the moths and wondered whether this might be a trick of light and shadow.

  A dozen or so moths continued to dance around each other even as Exeter stuck his hand in between them.

  One moth appeared to carry something extra on its wings.

  A worm. A blue, glowing worm.

  Exeter held his palm beneath the moth until it settled on his fingers. Something familiar about this worm ...

  “Hello, there. And what are you?”

  At once, the worms grew wings and divided in half. They sped away and divided exponentially. The winged worms became as a swarm and whirled end over end. Hundreds shot toward the sky then barreled straight down. They slowed before impact, where they rejoined into a singular human form.

  Shoan Gui, self-proclaimed Judge of the Change, flexed his hands and smiled at Exeter like an old friend.

  “I hear you’re a Commander these days,” he said. “Do you mind terribly if we talk?”

  3

  Promise City Administration Building

  CALEB SILVER ADMITTED a surprising truth: The mattress in his confinement room nicely fit his contours. After forty days, he slept as well here as at the lake house. He lived with few touches of home, but the Constable acquiesced to his requests: A surround-wall vid player, a café kiosk, a phasic stationary bike, ample sallowtop cigars, a vase with a regular change of flowers, and a small dining table.

  One gripe: Ollie Kant no longer took him outside for thirty minutes of fresh air each day. The Constable claimed it became ‘untenable.’ The Council called his little sojourns a ‘public nuisance.’

  Caleb smirked at their inability to confront the hard truth: They had neither momentum nor time on their side.

  He watched an action adventure serial from his bed while chewing on a half-smoked cigar. He’d become hooked on these overbaked stories imported from Catalan. He chose them from a vid library inside the Occip entertainment archive.

  At first, Caleb tried watching one through his second eyes. Yet he felt like a spectator engaged in one of life’s most ludicrous possible activities: Watching someone else watch a vid. He transferred the vids to the room’s player and became addicted to the silly, high-octane adventures of mortals killing mortals for no good damn reason. Oh, and the actors made crude side jokes along the way.

  An amazing cultural insight.

  In the first days, he tried reading. He ventured into the vast recesses of the Occip literature and knowledge archives. A whole repository of great human works spanning thousands of years.

  Eh. Nothing kept his attention.

  He questioned why Aeternans had yet to establish a literary tradition of their own. What would motivate them?

  Simple answer: Children, of course. What kid didn’t love a great story? Especially when read by a parent.

  Not much longer now.

  His door slipped open, interrupting his vid in the midst of a street fight. Ollie paused the player.

  “Is this a good one?” He asked the prisoner.

  “Same as the last and the next.”

  The Constable laughed with a tinge of recognition.

  “So, I’ve heard. Eloise Bunchen recommends the surrealistic vids from Inuit Kingdom. She says they’re an extraordinary example of doing far more with fewer words.”

  Caleb didn’t care for Ollie’s repeated attempts to find common ground over the trivial. He pulled on his cigar and sat up in bed.

  “It’s not time for food or bath, so you must have news.”

  Ollie waved away the burgeoning smoke cloud. Rather than answering, Ollie pulled up a chair and crossed his legs. He conjured the dynamic of a therapy session.