“Page had nothing else for us,” she said.
Levi nodded. “Without any idea of what we’re looking for, this is a wild goose chase.”
“I can’t believe we didn’t bring a remote receiver.”
“Well, we can always go to the electronics store tomorrow and build one.”
“Do I detect a sudden interest in pursuing this project?”
“I was being sort of sarcastic. We wouldn’t have the GPS unit if I hadn’t brought it, and you’d be completely S.O.L.”
Dana cruised the streets slowly. It was a thoroughly normal residential area. Dana knew they were close. It was driving her crazy that they could be so close but so powerless to pinpoint the transmitter. Levi cleared his throat.
“We can’t keep skulking around like this, or somebody’s going to call the cops on us.”
“Oh, come on.”
“Do you see anyone else driving around at this hour?”
“I’m not giving up just yet.”
“Fine. Why don’t we get a motel room and try again in the morning? Maybe by then Page will have some news for us.”
Dana sighed. “All right. Where did Page say the nearest motel was?”
“Lynnfield. Get back on the highway and head north.”
Fifteen minutes later, Levi and Dana entered a hotel room. It was a four star hotel, but neither researcher had the energy to find somewhere less expensive. Levi had managed to negotiate for a lower price, but between the two of them they were laying down a hundred bucks. Dana wasn’t looking forward to sharing the double with Levi before she realized she had no basis for this sentiment other than simple privacy.
The room was nice enough. Despite the overwhelming feeling of failure, Dana always enjoyed being out on the road. If she could regard the entire affair as an adventure in and of itself, perhaps the experience could be redeemed. The crushing feeling of fatigue was keeping her cynical side quite vocal, however. The transmission source was probably a completely random atmospheric anomaly, and could represent just about any Earth-based device bouncing off the clouds. Logic still pointed to something more distinct, but it was hardly enough to hold onto so late in the day. Dana would have to find something else to think about if she didn’t want to stay up for another hour after the lights were out, fatigue or no fatigue.
“Do you have a preference for a bed?” asked Levi.
“No. Wait, I guess I’d like the one closest to the bathroom.”
“No problem.”
“Damn it, I forgot a toothbrush.”
“How could you have brought anything for an overnight stay? We only stopped off at my place before leaving, not yours.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Don’t worry, I have a brand new toothbrush that I brought along. You can use it.”
“And you’ll suffer along quietly with dog breath?”
“No, I also have mouthwash. I was den leader in the Hygiene Scouts.”
“You want first dibs, then?”
“Sure.”
Levi entered the bathroom and closed the door. Dana spread out the few things she did have on the bed. A hairbrush would have been nice, too. Levi’s hair was too short to need one, so Dana figured she was screwed in that regard as well. Maybe it was time for her to invent a universal brush that was good for teeth, hair, and painting. Dana laughed at the chaos that might be caused.
Dana lay across the covers of her bed and tried to clear her mind. She was still surprised that Levi would accompany her on such a fool’s crusade, and if she was better up on sleep and food she might have suspected that he was trying to ingratiate himself to her. Such a thing was neither necessary nor possible, at least so Dana believed. She didn’t dislike Levi; it was more the fact that he so infrequently offered anything to like or dislike. A day in the car had offered useful insights; in fact, knowing about Levi’s military background only improved her respect for the man.
It also reminded her even more strongly how much Levi looked like her father. Dana’s dad was a Navy officer, which meant that he was allowed a full beard. Dana didn’t know if her dad grew the beard because he could, or because he actually liked the way it looked. Dana’s opinion was that while it may have been an old tradition in the Navy, it looked better on him than most.
Dana also thought about the fact that she had almost no interest in her father’s career beyond getting to see all the cool ships. His rank of Lieutenant Commander was practically meaningless until Levi had explained it to her. This made Dana feel pretty stupid as her father was evidently a man of some importance. If he hadn’t died while Dana was a teenager, she might have grown to appreciate his service. Instead all she had were some increasingly hazy memories and some stubbornly lucid guilt.
Levi emerged. “It’s all yours, your majesty.”
“Is it really?”
15. October 6, 2003
Christie was staring at the orb. The noontime sun was shining in through the skylights into John’s living room, turning the orb a silvery transparent. It was so unlike anything on Earth that Christie found it easy to waste time simply gazing into it. Every so often it would shimmer slightly, as if as a reminder that it was still watching you back.
Everyone had slept in late that morning except for John, who according to Ari had woken up at seven o’clock to resume work on his computer. Ray had gone outside to play with Tycho after investigating a car accident in the nearby neighborhood, and was still doing so. He and Tycho got along quite well, and the dog seemed to appreciate the rougher level of play that Ray offered. Christie thought it might create bad habits later on, seeing as Tycho was a wolf breed and all. She put it out of her mind, figuring that if Tycho mauled Ray to death, she’d have her answer. The two of them were having fun, and it was the first time Christie had seen Ray without a dark cloud hanging over him since she’d met him. John had hinted to her that Ray had been through something rough recently, but so far nobody had volunteered anything more. It was obviously related to the time off he said he had. Christie was sure of one thing, and that was that Ray was the only one who hadn’t lied to her, threatened her, or otherwise tried to manipulate her in the last twenty-four hours.
Ari passed by one of the living room windows, smoking a clove cigarette. How she was friends with anybody was a mystery to Christie, but judging by John and Ray’s reaction to her more objectionable behavior, she wasn’t always quite so much of a load to have around. Either that or the two men liked abuse.
Christie's eyes happened upon a picture on one of the end tables. It was of John and an unidentified young Caucasian female wearing blue hospital scrubs. John hadn't mentioned a girlfriend or sister. She figured he would volunteer the information if he thought it was appropriate.
Friday, who’d made herself scarce since first laying eyes on Tycho, ventured into the living room. Christie tried to get her to join her on the couch, and was surprised when she capitulated.
“John’s not being very hospitable right now, is he?” Christie asked him.
“Murph,” said Friday.
“Just wait until you’re in space, you’ll love that.”
The cat purred, blissfully unaware of any future star trekking. Christie felt about as useful as the cat. There hadn’t been much for her to contribute recently, other than some level-headed thinking and some much needed objectivity. How much use she would be to the crew in space was in doubt. Terran astronomy might not be of much use out there, once perspectives started to change. Her knowledge of astrophysics was rusty, at best, and something relatively simple like calculating Delta-V would be a challenge. Being able to tell the difference between a quasar and a pulsar might be just about the most handy skill she could offer aboard this ship.
As she’d mentioned to the others, Christie was not a big fan of science for the sake of science. Doing experiments just because you could was not a worthy goal in and of itself. Perhaps it was ironic then that her chosen field of expertise was often full of information that was practically us
eless to the vast majority of humans. Most people learned enough astronomy to know that their sun wouldn’t go nova for millions of years, and called it good. Some cared even less than that, content to poke seeds in the ground and eat what they grew into.
Swiping a battleship, or whatever the USS Portland actually was, and making off with the greatest scientific discovery in history was definitely not up there in terms of Nobel prize winning choices. The most distressing thing was the casual attitude of the others. Only John’s heart seemed to be in the right place. Christie thought that perhaps the only reason for her to go along was to make sure an ethical scientist was aboard.
Ari and Ray entered the living room. Friday looked at Ray in annoyance and decided to make a break for it.
“Friendly girl,” said Ray.
“You smell like dog,” said Ari.
“Right.”
“Is John still slaving away upstairs?” asked Ari.
“Presumably,” replied Christie.
“Well,” began Ray, “I don’t want to spend all day dicking around. If John’s working hard, we should be too.”
“What do you want to do, white-wash his fence?”
“No, Ari, we should talk about logistics some more. We still have a lot we need to work out.”
“Okay. You talk, we’ll listen.”
Ray sat in a sofa chair. “I wanted to get a handle on how much money is actually available to us. If we pool our resources we should be able to purchase most of what we need for the mission. Now, I have about three thousand dollars saved up right now. I need some of that to give to my roommate to compensate for taking off early. It’s only fair. I should be able to clear twenty-five hundred after that. Ari?”
“I have about fifteen thousand dollars saved up.”
“Holy shit.”
“Hey, I have a good job. I also happen to have a good deal on rent. I save a lot of money with each paycheck, and I almost never spend it. I bought a modest car and I only keep a credit card for emergencies. Excuse me for being frugal.”
“I admire your fiscal restraint,” said Ray.
“I’m afraid I won’t be of much help,” said Christie, “considering that I may not come along. I’m not about to blow my savings on a trip I can’t take.”
“How much could you contribute if you did come along?”
“What about a tax deductible donation?” asked Ari.
“I could dig up two grand,” said Christie.
“Okay,” said Ray, “and John tells me that he’s got about two grand. Ari, the fund is definitely getting named after you.”
“The Ferro Fund for Space Exploration,” Ari said. “I like it. Why not publish a web site?”
“So approximately twenty thousand dollars,” said Christie. “That sounds like plenty.”
“Not for what we have in mind,” Ray said.
“Example.”
“Okay, we were thinking about bringing ten rifles aboard. Since we wanted to standardize, we agreed upon the Springfield Armory M1A, the semi-automatic version of the military M-14. These fetch about eleven hundred dollars each. That’s eleven thousand dollars right there.”
“Why ten rifles?” asked Christie, perplexed. “There are only four of us, and I don’t even know how to operate a firearm.”
“We’re planning on a crew of six. We may yet choose to invite more professionals along. Having a few spare rifles is always a good idea.”
“Yeah, but couldn’t you choose something less expensive?”
“We feel that the M1A is the perfect compromise of caliber and capacity. There are few other rifles that meet the criteria and they all run at least a grand each. We could buy a gaggle of cheap AKs for three hundred dollars each, but I’m not going to bet my life against aliens with anything less than three-oh-eight.”
“What about John’s Garand?” Ari interjected. “Don’t you have at least one rifle already?”
“Yeah, but the idea here is standardization. When you have a tactical team working together it’s a good idea to be able to interchange magazines.”
“Fine, if you think it’s worth blowing over half of your cash on, go for it,” said Christie. “I’d prefer my portion go towards something like food, water, and clothing.”
“Nobody’s neglecting any one area,” said Ray. “If we can’t afford the rifles, we can’t afford them. We can compromise on five rifles, four even. Nobody even knows how much use they might be. Hopefully they spend the entire mission in the armory collecting dust.”
“About that,” said Christie, “why is it that we know so little about the mission? Telling us so little is hardly a good way of recruiting people.”
“John said he thought Seth was missing some information himself. Seth isn’t hiding anything from us, he simply doesn’t know. Why whomever sent him would do this is beyond me.”
“Maybe,” began Ari, “Seth’s creators are waiting until we build a ship before sending him the rest of the story. That way they could be sure that even if the current crew said no, they could turn the ship over to somebody else who would be interested. Either way the ship gets built.”
“I don’t know. I think that the Umberians want us to send a crew that’s acting off of faith alone. Telling us too much might result in a large ship filled with soldiers instead of a smaller ship filled with scientists and explorers. I think they want to avoid letting us decide what’s appropriate by telling us nothing.”
Christie frowned. “Yes, but by telling us nothing they risk the same thing. Not knowing what’s out there might just as well result in a warship. As far as I’m concerned I think our response is the most appropriate. A small ship, with a few eager participants who are willing to adapt to the situation.”
Ari nodded, and reached up towards the orb. Despite its appearance the orb was still solid to the touch. Ari felt jealous that they couldn’t access it without John even though the honor was dubious.
“I still don’t know how I’m going to interface a computer system with this thing,” she said.
“It seems to me that we need to make something intangible like the mental link into something tangible,” said Christie, “like binary code.”
“But how?”
“Logic would dictate that there is some sort of signal that connects John and Seth when Seth is sharing his consciousness. If we could figure out how to detect that signal, we could analyze it.”
Ray nodded. “That’s a good idea, but what kind of detection devices are available to us? Do we have radio frequency receivers? Spectroscopes? Microphones? I don’t know what else we might use, but we sure don’t have them.”
“I think we should just ask Seth,” said Ari. “Next time John or all of us are linked to the orb, we’ll find out if he can shed some light on the problem.”
“Let’s see if John wants to take a break and hold a session down here.”
“I’ll go,” said Ari.
Ari turned and walked upstairs. John’s door was open a crack so Ari entered his room. John was transfixed on his computer monitor. Ari sat down on his bed as it was the only place left. John glanced at Ari.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hi, how’s it going?”
“Great. I’m getting some seriously good work done here. I’ve already finalized the exterior hull. Right now I’m working on a system of doors that are strong enough to resist decompression. Each room has a door that will close if that area loses pressurization. Or if you want some privacy.”
“I’m impressed.”
“I should be done with the entire thing about eight to ten hours.”
“Why not take a lunch break? You’ve been going full steam for five hours.”
“If you could bring me something, I’d appreciate it. I want to keep working.”
“Well, the others and I were hoping that we could access Seth. We have some questions about how we might integrate the on-board computers into his data stream.”
“If I access the orb I’ll become tired. I
don’t want to have to take a nap.”
“You don’t have to finish the ship today, John.”
“I can’t keep taking sick days off of work, either.”
“Why not quit your damn job? If we’re getting off this planet in a little while what the hell difference does it make?”
John looked at Ari. “Good point. They won’t appreciate me leaving so abruptly, though.”
“Why do you care what they think?”
“Two weeks notice is simply professional courtesy, that’s all.”
“Just quit. I’ll quit my job, too. We can have a quitter’s party.”
John stopped working and turned to face Ari.
“Ari, what are we going to tell our families?”
“Tell them that your boss came on to you, what does it matter?”
“No, I mean how are we going to explain the fact that we’re disappearing and possibly never coming back?”
“I suppose we could say we joined the military.”
“Yeah, but even in boot camp we’d be able to write letters and make occasional phone calls.”
“I don’t know. Tell them you’re becoming a Tibetan Buddhist monk.”
“I suppose that’s a bit more believable.”
“My parents are used to me staying out of contact for long periods. If we get killed out in space they’ll never know what happened to me. They’ll get over it, people always do.”
“That’s a pretty cold attitude, even for you.”
“Well, if letting your family think that you’re dead bothers you, maybe you should reconsider coming along.”
“No, it’s not that. I’d just like to put them at ease in some way before we take off.”
“The monk story works pretty well. It speaks to your spiritual life, so you won’t get much objection from your family. It also explains why you’ll be out of contact for so long. Aren’t there monasteries out in California? That’s more believable than Tibet.”
“Honestly, I think you’ve got something there. Maybe a survivalist trek through the wilderness would work, too. People do all sorts of crazy, soul-searching stuff like that.”
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