Fantastic Voyage: Microcosm by Kevin J. Anderson Page B

for everything.
    “ 'Quarantine' means the detention, examination and decontamination of any person, property, animal or other form of life or matter whatever that is extra-terrestrially exposed, and includes the apprehension or seizure of such person, property, animal or any other form of life or matter whatever. For example, if person or thing 'A' touches the surface of the Moon, and on 'A's return to Earth, 'B' touches 'A' and, subsequently 'C' touches 'B,' all of these—'A' through 'C' inclusive—would be extra-terrestrially exposed ('A' and 'B' directly; 'C' indirectly).”
    Hunter's eyes glazed from the bureaucratic definitions. And the Code applied only to U.S. law; finding a common ground with international law would be more difficult yet.
    In only two days, the alien lifepod had become a political hot potato behind the scenes. Vasili Garamov had so far managed to stall with red tape, but the clock was ticking.
    Once word got out, a flood of so-called “experts” would insist on seeing the specimen. Some would want to pry open the containment vessel and begin dissection; others would demand that the alien be summarily destroyed to avoid any risk to humans and prevent a “world-wide panic.”
    Shooting down the UFO had been an unprovoked act of aggression. If the aliens had other ships in the vicinity, they could launch a full-scale assault upon the entire Earth. Before it was too late, the human race had to learn everything possible about this species—preferably without causing more damage to the sole “survivor.”
    Deputy Foreign Minister Garamov was scheduled to arrive before the launch of Team Proteus, as an official observer. Upon completion of the miniaturized mission, he would oversee the return of the alien body to Russia.
    Unfortunately, Hunter had just learned that Congressman Edwin Durston had intercepted Garamov upon his arrival at the San Francisco International Airport. The Congressman, a long-time opponent of Project Proteus and its level of secret funding, intended to escort the Russian to the mountain facility so they could watch the mission together. Although Durston would accomplish little here, he insisted on being present.
    And Hunter would have to play the host, all smiles. It was an opportunity, really. At last, he could demonstrate the value of Project Proteus, even to a perennially tough customer like Congressman Durston. This was the Director's chance, and he was sure his lost friend Chris Matheson would have been proud.
    Hunter slid shut the clunky drawers and straightened papers on his desk, rearranged the pencils, checked to make sure the stapler and the tape dispenser were full. He looked at his watch again. The four team members would be getting prepared.
    Since she was to be the medical expert on board, Dr. Cynthia Tyler had taken the time to double-check all the analytical and recording equipment that could be crammed into the laboratory space. A nervous Arnold Freeth had finished another rushed simulation. Devlin had completed a full systems check on the Mote.
    Hunter knew he shouldn't be uneasy about sending his son-in-law on the mission. Marc Devlin was perfectly qualified, probably more so than Captain Wilcox. But it was hard to risk losing one of the few remaining connections to his daughter…
    The intercom crackled on. “Director Hunter, the group is suiting up in the prep room. We are ready to proceed to the Mote for the final countdown. Everything's on schedule, sir.”
    Though he was tired, his eyes scratchy from too much time without enough sleep, Hunter smiled. This was the moment he'd been waiting for. “Excellent. I'll be right down.”
    Before he could go, he turned to find senior pathologist Trish Wylde standing at his door. She looked flushed, as if she had worked herself up to a confrontation. Her gentle, narrow face was lovely, though she didn't seem to realize it.
    “Felix, I know it's too late.” Trish managed to cover her hurt feelings with a veneer of