The Children Star by Joan Slonczewski Page A

in humans. We’re too . . . foreign.” He realized he knew nothing about it, only what the clinic had always told him.
    â€œThat’s right,” Khral agreed. “The few microzoöids found in humans never grow in culture. But if they could exist for any length of time, just long enough to divide and copy their DNA, you’re bound to get mutants. And some day those mutants—”
    â€œLet’s pray they don’t,” Rod exclaimed. “The last thing we need is an epidemic, with our doctor away.”
    Khral laughed, and her large teeth showed, yet somehow she looked more human. “Never fear. Even our own microbes are mostly harmless, after all; they get a bad rap. But you shouldn’t be without a doctor. Doesn’t Station cover you?”
    â€œSure, but they can take days to show up. The mining camps offer a thousand shares of stock to recruit a doctor—we can’t match that. Patella came because is a Spirit Caller. But he just had an accident . . .” He stopped himself. “We’ll manage. There’s a lifeshaper on Mount Anaeon that we can call.”
    â€œA lifeshaper? You don’t mean the Sharer, Sarai?”
    â€œYou know her?”
    â€œI’m trying to meet her. She’s one of the few people with data on microzoöids, most of it unpublished. She hasn’t returned my call yet.”
    That was no surprise. “Sarai keeps to herself.”
    â€œI would have lots to offer her—the latest strains and methods from Science Park.”
    â€œIf you’re not here to find a plague, what are you here for?” Rod asked.
    â€œI told you—the singing-trees. Singing-trees are full of microzoöids.”
    â€œThey don’t look sick to me.”
    â€œNeither do you—and your body carries ten times as many bacteria as human cells.”
    Not exactly a comforting thought.
    â€œAnd we exchange bacteria all the time, no matter how much we wash our hands. You can track the same bacteria strains in a family—in mom and dad, kids, even the family dog. You could say we ‘communicate’ through our bacteria.” She grinned excitedly. “That’s my theory: The singing-trees communicate by exchanging microzoöids. That’s why nobody’s made contact with them yet:
Nobody’s looked at their microzoöids.”
    So that was it, Rod thought, leaning back from the table. Yet another scheme to reveal the “hidden masters.” “Station’s been pushing singing-trees for years,” he told her. “They’ve little to show for it.”
    â€œIt’s different this time; we’re really onto something. That’s why I’m here.”
    Rod regarded her curiously. “Why are you scientists so anxious to find some high-IQ creature running Prokaryon? Why can’t you just let it be? If someone is in charge, they’ll show themselves once we prove worthy of their notice.”
    â€œThat’s just the point—how do we get their notice? If they’ve mainly studied our bacteria output ever since we got here, they must think we’re pretty dumb.”
    That was hard to deny.
    â€œI should think you’d be interested,” said Khral. “Without that last bit of doubt about ‘hidden masters,’ how long before we humans would blast Prokaryon open?”
    Rod thought of the moon glowing red and shrinking by the year. A sense of unease crept up his neck. “The Secretary of the Free Fold would never allow that.”
    â€œThe Secretary’s mate is the president of Bank Helicon. Elysian banks don’t like ships of illegals. Bank Helicon wants to get Prokaryon developed—now, not centuries from now.”
    He would have to run to make his launch time, he realized suddenly. His finger tapped the window; the plates descended as he got up, and a nanobug cleared the crumbs. “We will pray for the president of Bank