Starfist: Blood Contact by David Sherman & Dan Cragg

all. They had never agreed on anything all their lives. Nikholas, the younger of the two, considered Henri nothing more than a political opportunist, which he was, and a very good one at that. Nikholas never missed a chance to tell everyone that Henri merely cut back-room deals with other pork-barrel toadies to redistribute the Confederation's wealth, never equitably and never in the sacred cause of the advancement of science. In Nikholas's view, Henri feared ideas and the men who shared them because thinking men have always been the bane of politicians.
    "Yes?" the senator replied. The question was neutral, as if someone had just called his name from the Congress floor for a comment on an issue under discussion. Enderle knew the Morgans hated each other. If Nikholas was dead, Henri wouldn't shed a single tear. But if his expedition had ended in disaster, Henri would use that as ammunition to sink BHHEI's funding the next time its budget came up for approval. That would really please the senator—a chance to savage BHHEI and be rid of his arrogantly self-righteous brother at the same time.
    Briefly, Enderle explained the situation. Senator Morgan listened impassively.
    "How long will it take to find out what's happened?" Morgan asked.
    "Several months, sir, if the navy launches a ship immediately. First they'll have to designate a vessel, then assign the mission to some unit—"
    "Keep me informed, Blossom."
    The interview was over. Dr. Enderle got out of the oversize chair and walked rapidly out of the senator's sanctum. As she passed the receptionist's desk she paused, bent over her, and said, "You are looking fine today! Who's your undertaker?"
    Dr. Enderle knew Admiral Perry despised her, and she knew that Senator Morgan was already happily arranging to torpedo her bureau. But those small animosities aside, Dr. Blossom Enderle was really concerned about the lives of the thousand scientists and technicians in Morgan's team, and she was afraid that something had gone terribly wrong on Society 437.
    Preliminary surveys of the planet had revealed no lifeforms inimical to human beings, but those surveys often failed to discover serious environmental threats. Morgan's earlier reports had come through with perfect regularity. She knew outsiders thought that her scientists got so wrapped up in their work that they sometimes forgot the basics, even on occasion forgetting to eat, but Morgan was a superb organizer and manager, and he had all the technical expertise needed to maintain his equipment. Even so, she worried.
    "The people at Behind are really antsy about this Society 437 business," General Aldie Middleburg said. "Strange, sir, but I've worked with them on plenty of other incidents like this one and they've never before shown so much concern." As Operations Deputy for the Combined Chiefs, he and his staff had been in close contact with BHHEI's people for the last two days. "We'd have to launch anyway, but those folks think something nasty's happened out there."
    "I know that," Admiral Perry answered, referring to the necessity of launching a rescue operation; the law required that. "They're ‘concerned,’ General, because with Nikholas Morgan's precious ass on the line, his brother's going to cut off their allowance," he added.
    Normally, General Middleburg would have agreed with this assessment. "I don't know, sir," he ventured. Admiral Perry's eyebrows shot up at this. He nodded for General Middleburg to continue.
    "Project Golem has developed some activity out there."
    Admiral Perry started. He saw the Golem reports on a regular basis, but personally he did not put much faith in them. He couldn't recall offhand any specific mention of activity anywhere in the general direction of Society 437, but then he was exposed to so much information, who could retain it all?
    "Golem. Society 437," he said to his computer monitor. Instantly, a top secret report appeared on his screen, the Society 437 portion highlighted, just two