Lost Era 05_ Deny thy Father - Jeff Mariotte [51]
Combing the records on his padd, he noticed something he had forgotten about completely. Most of the scientists were fairly open about their research, and enjoyed talking about it even with those who might not thoroughly understand their stories. But there was a small group of scientists who claimed their work was classified at levels even beyond that at which Kyle was cleared, and this group remained secretive about their experiments the whole time Kyle was on the station. Other researchers began to suspect that they were up to something they shouldn’t be-genetic engineering experiments, strictly forbidden by Federation law, was the rumor. Now that he thought about it, he remembered the conversation he had with Simon Urs-Sistal, the half-Aurelian physicist who had confided in him.
“I’m just not sure what to do about it,” Simon had said to him. They’d been sitting together at a table in the starbase’s lounge, some distance away from anyone else, hunched over their drinks and talking in low tones. Kyle had known from the outset that this was a conversation Simon wanted to have in private, but he said it had to be in a public place, because anyone’s quarters might be bugged. That had piqued Kyle’s curiosity, and the story Simon told once they huddled in the lounge had more than lived up to it.
“Report it,” Kyle said simply. “What else can you do?”
“The thing is, these are only suspicions,” Simon said. Aurelians were humanoid but with a skull crest that came to a point at the top rear of their heads, and Simon had inherited that feature from his Aurelian mother. In times of stress-as now-he had a tendency to scratch at the base of the crest, as if to soothe an itch. “I can’t prove a bit of it. What Roone and Heidl and the others are up to in there, none of us know for sure. But that in itself concerns us.”
“Because the rest of you know what you’re all working on?” Kyle asked.
“Exactly,” Simon replied. “I’m assessing the intersection of pulse theory with superstrings-the idea that subatomic pulses can travel on the superstrings that bind all matter in the universe. Theoretically, this could give us instantaneous communication across vast distances, and possibly even, at some point, virtually unlimited transporter potential. Much faster and more efficient than subspace communication. I stress that it’s all very theoretical at this point. I’m interested in pure research, not necessarily the practical applications of the research, and this is a good place to do it. But the point is that everyone knows what I’m working on. We talk, we share ideas. A biogeneticist might have a brainstorm that will help me in my work, and by the same token I might give her an idea as well.”
Simon paused, scratching at his crest like he was trying to excavate it. His sunken eyes looked into Kyle’s meaningfully. Kyle was silent-Simon had a lot on his mind, and he’d spill it, given time-and waited. Finally, Simon continued. “But those guys-Heidl especially, but also Roone and what’s his name, Latriso Bistwinela-they’re so secretive you’d think they were working for the other side. They’re not, I’m sure-they came on Starfleet ships, and their research seems to have Federation support-but their attitude is such that it worries me. And then, from what little I’ve been able to glean by talking to other researchers, I’m not sure the Federation is precisely sure what it’s supporting in that lab.”
“What do you mean?” asked Kyle.
“This far from home, it’s very hard for the Federation to keep real tabs on anything. Yes, we send back reports and data, but reports can say anything we want them to, and data can be doctored. Falsified. I could say I’m working with subatomic pulses in deep space, while really I could be spending my days with holodeck simulations of Orion slave girls. It’s unlikely that anyone at Federation headquarters understands much of what my data shows anyway, so they believe what I tell them, for the most part.”
“So