Free In the Company of Others by Julie E. Czerneda

case.
    Finally, she became an analytical historian, specializing in recent events, pouring through manifests and records, publishing astonishing works detailing for the first time the most probable course taken by the Quill, postulating the direction of their origin—the first solid evidence as to the home of the deadly pests.
    But no one cared.
    The new worlds, confirmed or potentially contaminated, were abandoned; the stations were left to deal with their populations; and the Quill were merely something out there—something convenient to blame for the quiet, steady reduction in Earther exploration funding, for the drawing inward and consolidation of Earth’s once-vast ambitions to endless renovations of the domed colonies on Sol System’s immediate neighbors.
    They’d cared once. When Gail was born, there were research facilities being established throughout Sol System, all devoted to finding a way to destroy Quill tissue without harming the tender Terran ecosystems built at such cost and with such hopes. They floundered on the same rock—there was no Quill tissue to test. Every known specimen had been destroyed in the frenzy to protect humanity. The contaminated worlds? The pests were there—the Quill Effect killed every human foolish enough to land—but the most sophisticated remotes and robot probes failed to retrieve a scrap of Quill tissue. It couldn’t be found.
    Earth had given up years ago. She hadn’t.
    â€œDr. Smith?”
    Surprised her attention had wandered, Gail shook her head slightly, gambling she would probably disagree with anything the stationer proposed, heard or not. Tobo’s lips quirked, as though he knew perfectly well she’d lost track of what was going on, before he said helpfully: “I have no objections to letting the station techs keep the ’bot and give it a once-over. Maybe they can find out why it cut loose from its protocols and went roaming.”
    â€œCommander?” Gail raised her brow to get Grant’s reaction. It was the FD’s toy, after all.
    There was nothing to read from his composed features. “I’ve no objection, Doctor,” Grant offered smoothly. “Ship’s equipment has nothing to do with me.”
    Administrator Forester didn’t bother hiding his relief. Why? What was going on here? Gail wondered again, intrigued in spite of herself. “Thank you. I’m sure that will go a long way toward alleviating any—” he appeared to struggle for a word, then settled on a lame: “—any questions about what happened.”
    â€œYou take your privacy very much to heart here,” Gail observed dryly. “Rest assured, I have no interest in Thromberg Station or its population, with the exception of obtaining the assistance of Aaron Pardell. Have you made any progress in locating him for me?”
    Forester’s face tried to work into a smile but failed. “Surely there’s someone else who can help you, Dr. Smith,” he ventured, with an almost desperate air. “I can’t imagine what possible use this man could be, even if we find him. I have to tell you in all honesty: this Aaron Pardell may not even exist.”
    â€œThat’s not the message you sent to Titan U, Administrator,” Gail reminded him, chilling her voice several degrees. “In that, you claimed to have his birth record. I trust you aren’t about to tell us that was a lie.”
    â€œNo! No. Well, not a lie ...” Forester, who’d been standing during his tirade against the Seeker ’s deployment of a potential spy, chose that moment to sink into the seat he’d been offered and earlier refused. Out of the corner of her eye, Gail noticed Grant’s two guards weren’t relaxing. Probably enjoyed having something to do , she told herself, making a private vow to keep them very busy if Forester was about to tell her they’d come to Thromberg for nothing.