Lifeline

Brahms narrowed his eyes. “Dr. Langelier, when did you first meet Ramis?”

Karen shrugged. “A day or so after he got here.” A pause, then, “I guess I know him better than anyone, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Silence. Brahms studied the holotank. “I’ve been going over the records. You’re quite proficient in the Russian language—at least, written Russian. I assume you are competent conversationally, too?”

She nodded. He was leading her along exactly the line of reasoning she wanted.

“Dr. Langelier, I need—Orbitech 1 needs—access to those Soviet scientists and whatever records they may have left behind. We’ve got to wake them. You can read and interpret all those things Ramis doesn’t understand. Maybe he did something wrong when he tried to revive that first man. Do you think you could help him if you went over there?”

Karen’s heart yammered at her; she kept her mouth from forming a smile. He knows—he’s got to know! She thought. She stammered out an answer, tried to keep her composure and think straight.

He called up a memo on screen and scanned it. “Our medical staff says it would be best if someone knowledgeable in the language is actually there to help Ramis—get him to tell you what he did the first time and try to learn what he did wrong.”

Brahms scowled and looked at the metal ceiling as he spoke. “Plenty of the physical scientists are fluent in Russian, but not a single one of our medical people or biologists. Apparently nobody considered new Soviet medical research worth reading about.”

“The Soviets managed to come up with suspended animation before anybody else,” Karen said.

“That’s right.” Brahms looked angry, but he laughed to himself. “Well, it hasn’t been proved yet. Any moron can freeze people—it’s reviving them intact that has always caused the problems.”

Brahms rocked back. “Ramis was a loner here—self-sufficient and not too friendly. But I knew that if anyone was going to succeed over at the Kibalchich, it was him.”

Karen blinked and tried to keep her expression neutral. Brahms sounded as if he had talked Ramis into going.

“But now I’ve got this introverted kid over there, scared half out of his wits. If I send the wrong person over, he might crack.” Brahms paused for a moment. “You’re one of the few people here that Ramis would trust. You’ve built up quite a relationship with him. He’s asked about you.”

Karen nodded. He’s talking me into it. But this is just what I hoped would happen—there has to be something up his sleeve. “Ramis has become a good friend.”

The acting director stared at her, his lips drawn to a tight thin line. The Kibalchich would give her sanctuary from Brahms.

She drew in a breath. “I’ll do it. For Orbitech 1, of course.” Karen stood. “When should I make the journey?”

“As soon as you can.” He toggled down to another memo on his screen. “You had an idea about using the weavewire, without it cutting through everything?”

Karen answered tiredly. “Something like Ramis’s harness. There is a way to knit the weavewire into a mesh loop—I can tie one end to a dolly and loop the other end over the line to the Kibalchich. That way I’ll just ride the dolly over.”

Brahms pushed himself up from his desk, landing lightly on his feet. He didn’t seem at all interested in the technical details. “I’ll throw the engineering branch at your disposal. Priority work.”

“That won’t be necessary—”

“Dr. Langelier,” Brahms interrupted. His voice was soft, but his eyes penetrated her. “I made a mistake with McLaris—I won’t do it again. Before you go, I want to have unlimited access to this new weavewire extraction process of yours, get the engineering branch up to speed on what you’re doing. We can’t afford to lose your technique. What if something happened to you over at the Kibalchich?

“Let us begin by drawing out as much of the fiber as we can. I want to have a good stockpile on hand, no matter how much storage space it takes up. The people over on the Aguinaldo have requested a supply of their own, and I’m happy to give it to them if they’ll come get it. After all, Ramis brought us the Aguinaldo’s wall-kelp. We might also want to offer some of it to Clavius Base as a goodwill gesture. Maybe that’ll get the Moon people to break their silence. It’s starting to wear on our morale here.”

“You won’t need to store the weavewire—my new laser extraction technique can draw out a few thousand kilometers an hour.”

Brahms smiled faintly, as if he had lost interest in the subject entirely. “Then it shouldn’t be any problem. Good day, Dr. Langelier.”

Once outside the office, Karen felt nauseated. Every time she interacted with Brahms, it seemed like a game of one-upmanship. She had walked away with everything she had wanted; Brahms had given her free rein to pull it off.

So why did she feel like she was being used?

Chapter 37