
One step remained in the decontamination process. He opened a panel and removed a vial and an
injection apparatus. After attaching the vial, he pressed the actuator to flush air from a short tube and
needle. Holding the needle parallel to his skin he punctured a vein in his forearm, pressed the actuator
and watched as a mixture of broad-spectrum bioagent, synthetic antibodies and immune-system booster
emptied into his vein.
As much as he despised it, decontamination was essential, he reminded himself. His people had
worked hard over five thousand years to eliminate pathogens from their environment. Earth's biosphere,
by comparison, was a soup of microorganisms. An Earth illness would spread rapidly through his native
population. How he would hate to be the one responsible.
The vial empty, he dropped it into the waste reprocessor and walked to the wardroom where he
donned a Floran tunic andxarpa . Nyk pressed a control to repressurized the shuttle bay. The pressure
door opened and he stepped in to examine the shuttlecar assigned to the Wisconsin lab.
Diagnostics reported the vessel in proper operating order. He checked the power cables, returned to
the workroom, picked up the case he had brought and sat awaiting the arrival of the interplanetary
packet.
His wait was not a long one. A thud shook the station and he could hear the docking clamps engage.
A packet attendant appeared at the docking tunnel door and motioned Nyk aboard. He stowed his case,
took his seat and belted himself in. Through the viewport he could see the relay station and beyond it the
brilliant star which was how Earth's sun appeared from this distance. He looked around the packet.
The seats were filled with people of all ages. Some wore the tunic and sashes of the homeworld;
others the attire of the various colonies. They had in common blue eyes and fair hair, ranging in color
from light blond to medium brown. Nyk remarked to himself how diverse was the Earth population
compared to his own -- and, how much more interesting.
The viewports closed and indicator lamps above them glowed white-to- blue. Nyk checked the
tightness of his seat belt. The jolt of the warp-jump shook the packet as it traveled the two hundred
lightyears between Earth and Floran in an instant. The indicators glowed white and blue again -- another
jolt marked the sub-jump to carry the vessel from outside Floran's heliopause into orbit.
The viewports opened and Nyk could see a wildly spinning starfield.We picked up quite a bit of
spin on that jump , he thought.The pilots should have no trouble controlling it, though . He watched
as the starfield's spinning slowed and stopped. Now the packet headed toward the transit platform, a
space station the size of a small village in synchronous orbit over Floran's equator. Through the port he
could look down on his indigo world, mostly covered by an ocean several times the volume of Earth's.
The packet drew near the transit platform and eased into station-keeping as a docking tunnel
deployed. The doorway opened. Nyk grasped his case and stood, awaiting his turn to step through the
tunnel.
He headed through the transit lounge and sat in a car that carried him into the central hub of the transit
platform. One corridor led toward the concourse with its shops and concession stands. Another led to
the ExoService offices of the platform's administration. The light was on in Veska's office.
Nyk walked in and embraced the man he had known for so long as his father-in-law; and whom he
had recently learned was his own biological father. “Dad,” he said. Now, his father-in-law he was no