Medusa: A Tiger by the Tail

We slowed, suddenly, but without any jerking, and approached a large building that loomed up out of the sea of white. We stopped, waited, then started up again, stopped again, waited, then glided on, the tracking system now clearly visible ahead.

Sgt. Gorn picked up the microphone. “We are entering the west gate of the city of Gray Basin,” he informed us. “Because of the unpleasant weather around here, much of the city is built underground—in fact, under the permafrost. The two stops we made were to clear force fields, without which the gates would be open to wild animals and other unpleasant creatures that do, in fact, roam that landscape you have seen.

We took another turn, then came to a complicated track-switching area. The bus stopped, then cautiously proceeded once again as a series of lights changed on all the tracks; the bus eased onto one of them. We moved along another two or three minutes at a slow but steady speed, then emerged from the tunnel and into the city of Gray Basin proper, which was as modern-looking as the bus. It seemed to go on forever.

“The city is not in a cavern,” Gorn informed us, “but is built in the same manner as are the domed cities on some of the most hostile frontier worlds. In fact, it’s something of a domed city upside down, in that we built the city and then roofed it over. Most Medusan cities not on or near the equator are built like this. Gray Basin has a population of seventeen thousand and is the commercial center of the north.”

The map in my head showed me pretty much where I was. The eastern continental land mass, it seemed, and at about 38° north latitude. On most worlds this would be a fairly pleasant climate; here, it was tundra.

Despite my warm clothing, the cold was beginning to get to me. I had spent the last several weeks in perfect climate control, and my body was not used to this kind of extreme. Even in the bus, where things should be fairly stable in temperature, it was still damned cold.

We wound through streets past neat-looking modular apartment buildings and what must have been office buildings and shops, finally pulling up at a blocky, monolithic four-story building made out of some blackish stone. The doors hissed open.

“Please follow us into the building,” Gorn said. Despite the “please,” it still sounded like the command it was. “Do not hold back. You will have to climb two flights of staffs. Do not get lost.”

We followed the same route-step as before, entering the building and walking down a wide corridor with offices and other corridors branching off to the right and left of us. We then reached a stairway and climbed it, keeping up with Gorn as best we could. I think most of us were a bit surprised to be winded by a mere two-story climb, our sedentary imprisonment notwithstanding. Not only were we all out of condition, but the slightly heavier gravity was telling.

The blast of warm air when we entered the first room on the third floor was as unexpected as it was tremendously welcome. Despite my clothing, I frankly hadn’t realized how terribly cold I was until the pain that the heat generated hit me. It took a few minutes before I could really think of anything else and look around.

The first room, the heated one, was fairly large and furnished in a utilitarian manner, with long, hard folding tables and collapsible chairs and not much else. There were no windows, a fact our hosts were quick to explain.

“Just take seats anywhere and get accustomed to the temperature change,” Gorn told us. “This room and the three adjoining rooms have been raised to 21° for your initial comfort. These are the only directly heated rooms, so stay within them at all times. We chose this area to heat because, with no windows or other outside vents, it is the most efficient system.” He walked over to a nearby door. “If you’ll come in here, 111 show you the rest of the place.”

We followed—slowly, still not recovered completely from exposure—and found that the second room was a large barrackslike area with eight double bunks, four on each side of the hall. The mattresses appeared to be paper-thin and none too comfortable, but I’d seen worse. The place was well-maintained, although obviously seldom used. Beyond was a third large room, with a large common shower and three open standard toilets, plus four small sinks with mirrors. Again it looked seldom-used, but serviceable.

We followed Sgt. Corn back to the “lounge” area and took seats. As yet nobody had removed his thermal clothing and I had no inclination to do so myself. I felt as if I would never be warm again.

It was Cpl. Sugra’s turn at us. She looked like a lot of women cops I’ve met in my work—not unattractive, but hard, cold, and worldly; her voice matched. For the first time I could look at her and Gorn and see a bit beyond the manner and the uniforms. Their complexions, which at the spaceport and on the bus were a granitelike gray, now seemed lighter, almost orange. There was a certain toughness to their skin, which, on close inspection, resembled the hides of great animals. Soft they were not.

“I’m Corporal Sugra,” she began, reintroducing herself. “Sergeant Gorn and I will be with you over the next week. We will be staying right down the hall from this complex and will be available to answer your questions and give you basic preparation. At various times others from the government will come in to talk about specific areas. Now, we understand you have just come from a bitter experience, and you are now most concerned about what this new world is like and what it both has for you and will do for you.”

And to me, I thought.

“First of all, is there anyone here who does not know why Medusa and the other worlds of the Warden Diamond are used by the Confederacy for exile?” She paused a moment, then seemed satisfied that we all knew at least the basics.

“The microorganism that is now within all of your bodies will be making itself at home. Please don’t be alarmed. You will find there is no sensation, no feeling at all that anything is different. In fact, you will probably feel increasingly better as this process goes on because, despite the best medical care, the human system is riddled with disease and physical problems of one sort or another. Since the Warden organism depends on you for its place to live, it wants that place to be in as good a condition as possible. So it will repair what is wrong, make more efficient that which is inefficient, and will not only cure you of any diseases or infections you might have but prevent any new ones. That’s how it pays you back; it’s a good deal.”

A big, gruff-looking man near me gave a low cough. “Yeah—but what’s our price?” he grumbled.

“There is no … price, as you call it,” she responded. “As you may know, it is theorized that the Warden organism was native only to the planet Lilith and was spread by early explorers to the other three worlds, where it mutated to survive. Some people on Lilith have the power to order the Wardens around, inflicting pain and pleasure and in some cases even creating and destroying through willpower alone. On Charon this ability is even more pronounced, with physical and mental power giving those trained in controlling their Wardens almost magical abilities over themselves and others. On Cerberus minds are actually exchanged between the people as a by- product of the Warden organism. In all cases there are more positives than minuses in the by-products. But here on Medusa survival dominates all other things. The organism here is more colonial in nature, sticking to whatever it’s in and not bothering with others.”

“You can’t be saying that there’s no effect,” a skeptical woman put in.

“No, there is an effect, but it is limited to each individual. It is also universal and automatic, so that no willpower or training is required. Everyone can use it equally, making Medusa a far better place. What it did to us, what it is doing to you, is totally altering your basic biochemistry. We look human, we act human; but under the microscope we are not human. Here, on Medusa, the Warden colonies survive in us only as long as we ourselves survive. So the colonies mutated humanity here to survive the climate, no matter what. The changes are far more extensive and comprehensive than on the other three planets. Our entire cellular structure is modified, with each Warden colony in each cell in total and complete control, ready to act at a moment’s notice, either independently or collectively as required.”

“To what end?” I asked, genuinely curious. “What does it do?”

“Instant adaptation to whatever the needs of the organism are,” she told us. “We can survive almost any temperature extreme. Our bodies can consume and use almost any substance to provide whatever energy is needed under any conditions. We could go stark naked into that snowy wilderness you saw coming in and we would neither freeze nor starve. Water is our only requirement. We can adapt to extremes of radiation, drink boiling water, even walk barefoot on hot coals. Medusans are in every way superior to humanity, or even to those of the other three worlds. Instant evolution, it’s been called. What we need, we have or become. As I say, the system is automatic—no thought or direction is required.”

“That’s why the bus and buildings were unheated,” I thought aloud. “You don’t need heat.”

She nodded. “Natural insulation is enough to keep everything fairly uniform and comfortable for us. These