Free Judge by Karen Traviss

took a few more slow steps forward and made a gesture holding up both hands that Esganikan didn’t understand.
    â€œIt’s okay,” Shan called. “We’ve done this before. We’re not going to infect anyone. Eqbas are very efficient at handling biohazards.”
    Esganikan wondered if that was human sarcasm. It seemed to get no reaction from the welcoming party to indicate they understood it as that, and the figure in the center took a few more steps forward before pulling off the mask covering his head. It was Prime Minister Bari. She recognized him.
    â€œCommander Gai? Superintendent Frankland?” The voice was a little shaky. “We had a more comfortable landing spot picked out for you, but since you’re here…welcome to the Australian Republic.”
    Bari ignored a restraining hand on his arm from one of the men beside him and walked to close the gap.
    â€œHe’s crapping himself,” Shan said quietly. “He’s scared, and he thinks he’s taking a huge risk removing his mask, but it’s so he can look you in the eye and gain your trust. So play nice. Okay?”
    Esganikan saw no need to placate someone who had absolutely no choice, but she heeded Shan’s advice about avoiding conflict, to save time. Earth wasn’t something that could be wiped clean like Umeh was; the ecology was complex. Humans were needed—some of them, anyway.
    Get him on side. He’ll do your work for you.
    It was that alien voice again: Mohan Rayat’s. Esganikan was sure of that now. She took Bari’s extended hand in hers, noting how he stared at the glove, and shook it as instructed.
    â€œAre you sure this is going to be a suitable place to set up camp, Commander?” he asked. “Even temporarily? There’s nothing out here.”
    â€œWe leave no trace of our presence.” Esganikan retrieved her hand. “And once we locate an aquifer, we can be self-sustaining indefinitely. We’ve worked in much less hospitable climates than this. But we have human colonists and military personnel who need other accommodation.”
    Bari’s two suited escorts stood to either side of him as if they could protect him, while one—possibly a female—stood a few paces behind. Gethes were still a mass of fidgeting, twitching distractions; none of them seemed able to stand still by wess’har standards.
    â€œWe need to begin quarantine procedures for the human crew, at least,” Bari said. “The FEU will insist on their personnel being screened before they enter their borders.”
    â€œThey won’t know what they’re looking for, nor if they find it.”
    Shan intervened. “They’ll know if they see mutated human viruses and bacteria, though.”
    â€œVery well,” said Esganikan. An opportunity presented itself, and she took it without thinking, but it wasn’t her own impulse. “Provide human pathogen data, and we can screen all the humans for you.”
    â€œThe FEU will still want to quarantine them.”
    â€œThat’s their concern. But the colonists will remain here, so we can screen them for you and deal with any risks. Provide us with information on your genotypes and pathogen profiles, and we can predict if any contaminant carried by the humans on board will be a hazard to you—or if your diseases will harm them.” Esganikan was more worried for the colonists she’d brought back to Earth than for the native population. They were the kind of responsible humans she thought fit to survive and, as Deborah Garrod put it, inherit the Earth. “Your diseases are most unlikely to affect us, the ussissi or the Skavu.”
    Bari hesitated.
    Perhaps he needed to ask others in his government. Humans were bureaucratic creatures, always needing permission or seeking control, unable to act on their own initiative.
    â€œWe’ll do that,” he said at last. He was sweating visibly in