of tissue, splattered throughout the walls of the orbiter. 'Most of the DNA remains unidentifiable. We have no idea what it codes for. But this particular sequence, here on the screen, we can identify. It's the gene for coenzyme F420.'
'Which is?'
'An enzyme specific to the Archaeon domain.'
Roman sat back, feeling faintly nauseated. 'So it's confirmed,' he murmured.
'Yes. The organism definitely has Archaeon DNA.' Carlos paused. 'I'm afraid there's bad news.'
'What do you mean, bad news'? Isn't this bad enough?'
Carlos tapped on the keyboard and the nucleotide sequence scrolled to a different segment. 'This is another gene cluster we found. I thought at first it had to be a mistake, but I've since confirmed it. It's a match with Rana pipiens. The northern frog.'
'What?'
'That's right. Lord knows how it picked up frog genes. Now here's where it gets really scary.' Carlos scrolled to yet another segment of the genome. 'Another identifiable cluster,' he said.
Roman felt a chill creeping up his spine. 'And what are these genes?'
'This DNA is specific to Mus musculis. The common mouse.'
Roman stared at him. 'That's impossible.'
'I've confirmed it. This lifeform has somehow incorporated mammalian DNA into its genome. It's added new enzymatic capabilities. It's changing. Evolving.'
Into what? Roman wondered.
'There's more.' Again Carlos tapped on the keyboard, and a new sequence of nucleotide bases scrolled onto the monitor. 'This cluster is not of Archaeon origin, either.'
'What is this? More mouse DNA?'
'No. This part is human.' The chill shot all the way up Roman's spine.
The hairs on the back of his neck were bristling. Numbly he reached for the telephone.
'Connect me to the White House,' he said. 'I need to speak to Jared Profitt.'
His call was answered on the second ring. 'This is Profitt.'
'We've analyzed the DNA,' said Roman.
'And?'
'The situation is worse than we thought.'
Nicolai paused to rest, his arms trembling from fatigue. After months of living in space, his body had grown weak and unaccustomed to physical labor. In microgravity there is no heavy and little need to exert one's muscles. In the last five hours, and Luther had worked nonstop, had repaired the S-band antennas, had dismantled and reassembled the gimbal.
Now he was exhausted. Just the extra effort of bending his arms in the turgid EVA suit made simple tasks difficult.
Working in the suit was an ordeal in itself. To insulate the human body from extreme temperatures ranging from -250 to 250 degrees Fahrenheit and to maintain pressure against the vacuum of space, the suit was constructed of multiple layers of aluminized Mylar insulation, nylon ripstop, an Ortho-fabric cover, and a pressure- garment bladder. Beneath the suit, an astronaut wore an undergarment laced with water-cooling tubes. He also had to wear a life-support backpack containing water, oxygen, self-rescue jet pack, and radio equipment. In essence, the EVA suit was a personal spacecraft, bulky and difficult to maneuver in, and just the act of tightening a screw required strength and concentration.
The work had exhausted Nicolai. His hands were cramping in the clumsy space suit gloves, and he was sweating.
He was also hungry.
He took a sip of water from the mouthpiece mounted inside his suit and released a heavy sigh. Though the water tasted strange, almost fishy, he thought nothing of it. Everything tasted strange microgravity. He took another sip and felt wetness splash onto his jaw. He could not reach into his helmet to brush it away, so he ignored it and gazed down at the earth. That sudden glimpse of it, spread out in breathtaking glory beneath him, made him feel a little dizzy, a little nauseated. He closed his eyes, waiting for the feeling to pass. It was motion sickness, nothing more, it often happened when you unexpectedly caught sight of earth. As his stomach settled, he became aware of a new sensation. The spilled water was now trickling up his cheek. He twitched his face, to shake off the droplet, but it continued to slide across his skin.
But I am in microgravity, where there is no up or down. Water should not be trickling at all.
He began to shake his head, tapped his gloved hand on his helmet.
Still he felt the droplet moving up his face, tracing a wet line over his jaw. Toward his ear. It had reached the edge of his comm.-assembly cap now. Surely the fabric would soak up the moisture, would prevent it from trickling further ... All at once his body went rigid. The wetness had slid beneath the edge of the cap. It was now squirming toward his ear.
Not a droplet of water, not a stray trickle, but something that moved purpose. Something alive.
He thrashed left, then right, trying to dislodge it. He banged hard on his helmet. And still he felt it moving, sliding under comm assembly.
He caught dizzying glimpses of earth, then black space, then earth again, as he flailed and twisted around in a frantic dance.
The wetness slithered into his ear.
'Nicolai? Nicolai, please respond!' said Emma, watching him on the TV monitor. He was turning around and around, gloved hands battering frantically at his helmet. 'Luther, he looks like he's having a seizure!' Luther appeared on camera, moving quickly to assist his EVA partner. Nicolai kept thrashing, shaking his head back and forth.
Emma could hear them on UHF, Luther asking frantically, 'What is it, what is it?'
'My ear -- It is in my ear -- '
'Pain? Does your ear hurt? Look at me!'
Nicolai slapped his helmet again. 'It's going deeper!' he screamed. 'Get it out! Get it out!'
'What's wrong with him?' cried Emma.
'I don't know! Jesus, he's panicking -- '
'He's getting too close to the tool stanchion. Get him away before he damages his suit!' On the TV monitor, Luther grabbed his partner by the arm.
'Come on, Nicolai! We're going back in the air lock.' Suddenly Nicolai clutched at his helmet, as though to rip it off.
'No! Don't!' screamed Luther, clutching at both of his partner's arms in a desperate attempt to restrain him. The men thrashed together, umbilical tethers winding, tangling around them.
Griggs and Diana had joined Emma at the TV monitor, and the three of them watched in horror as the drama unfolded outside the station.
'Luther, the tool stanchion!' said Griggs. 'Watch your suits!' Even as he said it, Nicolai suddenly and violently twisted in Luther's grasp.
His helmet slammed into the tool stanchion. A stream of what looked like white mist suddenly spurted out of his faceplate.
'Luther!' cried Emma. 'Check his helmet! Check his helmet!'
Luther stared at Nicolai's faceplate. 'Shit, he's got a crack!' yelled. 'I can see air leaking out! He's decompressing!'
'Tap his emergency 2 and get him in now!' Luther reached over and flipped the emergency oxygen supply switch on Nicolai's suit. The extra airflow might keep the suit inflated long enough for Nicolai to make it back alive. Still struggling to keep his partner under control, Luther began to haul toward the air lock.
'Hurry,' murmured Griggs. 'Jesus, hurry.' It took precious minutes for Luther to drag his partner into the crew lock, for the hatch to be closed and the atmosphere repressurized. They didn't wait for the usual airlock integrity check, pumped the pressure straight up to one atmosphere.
The hatch swung open, and Emma dove through into the equipment lock.
