Free The Antarcticans by James Suriano Page B

said. “I don’t know anything about viruses, other than a few classes I took as an undergraduate, and that was decades ago.”
    “No need, really, for that kind of knowledge,” Lucifer said. “Everything we’re working on is unprecedented. You won’t find what we’re doing in any textbooks. The viral research is just one part of a larger project. We’ll put your best skills to use. After dinner, we should go to the amphitheater; I can give you a demonstration of our holographic technology and the types of things we’re trying to accomplish in the world. No need to decide over dinner.” He cut through an orange lopsided vegetable and slid it into his mouth.
    The main course, rack of lamb, was set down in front of each of them in complete synchrony.
    Arkita stood up and retreated to the corner. The high tones of “Moon River” took to the air, and she sang from the shadows, creating a subtle background ambience that wouldn’t interfere with the meal. Lucifer sliced a piece of the delicate lamb, closed his eyes, put it in his mouth, and let the savory meat linger on his tongue before he opened his eyes wide and declared it delicious. Everyone else followed his lead and began devouring their food.
    “So how do you predict where an outbreak might occur?” Noila asked Ruftan.
    “The simulation programming is beyond me—we leave that up to the girls downstairs. I just give them the parameters of the inputs for what makes an outbreak deadly and prone to spread quickly. The processing power is amazing.”
    “What’s there to do in Antarctica then?” Noila asked.
    “The inputs are still organic,” he said. “The simulations can only be reliable if we have the right research to support the scenarios. In Antarctica we take temperature readings, drill ice-core samples to see what we can find about the past environment of that continent, and push known pathogens into the subzero air to see how they’ll react. It’s a mixture of using the data we have and subjecting it to new environments and also extracting the unknown from these environments.”
    “Have you found anything publishable?” Noila asked.
    “Publishable?” Ruftan laughed and looked at Lucifer. “We don’t disclose our results. That would be a violation of our contract.”
    “Your contract with whom?” Noila asked cautiously.
    “You’ll meet them in Antarctica. No sense in going into a description now,” Lucifer said.
    The music and Arkita’s singing was pushed from the background and quickly increased in volume to fill the room. “Nothing comes from nothing. Ain’t that the way…” Her voice took on a throaty power that drowned out Noila’s next question.
    “Dessert is served,” Lucifer said. “Would you look at that architecture? The chefs’ talents continue to amaze me.”
    The dish was five interlocking pieces of candied pastry, with a column of flan rising up from the middle and capping out, supported by the rest of the dessert.
    “How on earth do you eat this?” Nazia asked.
    “It’s like a conversation, my dear, a delicate balance of force and agility,” Lucifer replied. He shaved a piece of the flan off the top and then, spoonful by spoonful, broke the dessert down, never letting it collapse, until there was an exact outline on the plate of the sugar left behind.
    When the song ended, Arkita retook her seat at the table and sampled the dessert. “You’re being far too evasive,” she told Lucifer. “I think the truth will let Noila make the right decision.”
    “I’ll go,” Noila said.
    “What?” Gavin glared at her, his forehead crinkled.
    “The work sounds like it could saves millions of lives,” Noila said.
    “You could save the whole race if you’re not careful with your enthusiasm,” Lucifer said with a laugh.
    “Is the whole race in danger?” Noila asked.
    “You tell me—you’re the scientist.”
    The lighting in the room grew brighter, and the pink-and-brown designs of the wallpaper were visible