Alvin didn't particularly want that job, but he didn't like how unhappy his mentor seemed, forced to stay aboard the ship while the others continued the research they had traveled so far to perform. He discussed the issue with Tom, but neither could find a solution. As much as Alvin joked that Texan was an unfathomable language, Tom possessed even less foreign language skills than him.
After being in such close proximity for so long, it took some getting used to having actual privacy again. But Alvin wasn't going to complain about that. The crew quickly fell into a routine of sample collection for a week while the dim sun was overhead and analyzing them in their field laboratory during the equally long night.
Alvin tried to include Lana in his research as much as possible. He even began bringing problems to her that he had already solved to let her feel involved.
"Alvin, you will not treat me as a child to be pacified. I was a researcher while you were still a baby trying to figure out what your arms did." Lana glowered at him. She uncrossed her arms and put them on her hips while staring down at the younger researcher. "Don't you dare insult my intelligence by pretending that you need my help to solve this photosynthesis problem."
"I'm sorry, Lana. You've been so unhappy and I wanted to help." Alvin shrank back. He'd only seen Lana angry a few times and it was not a pretty sight. His only option was full surrender. "I didn't mean to patronize you. I'm sorry. It was a stupid idea." He kept his eyes glued to his shoes, unable to meet her gaze.
"Oh, I know, dear." Her features softened. "I'm angrier at NASA than I am at you. I appreciate that you want to help. Just don't do…that."
Alvin let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Message received. Would you prefer I dump the research I don't want to do on your desk, like a mouse that a cat gives to its owner?"
Lana stared at him for a few moments, her lips pursed. Then she let out a laugh with such force that she bent in half. "I get it. Cats don't give us the kills they don't want, but I think your motivation would be the same. But don't leave it on my pillow while I'm sleeping."
Alvin snorted. "Okay, you've convinced me. But I will give you some of my findings to analyze on your own—"
The communications terminal buzzed loudly, signaling an incoming transmission from Earth. Lana sighed. "Let's go see what hoop they want their dancing monkey to jump through this time."
"We believe we've made a breakthrough. Grammar and syntax are all a jumble, but the simulations are showing forty percent of words translated." The image of Dr. Farnsworth, a linguist that NASA had selected to lead the team to translate the alien language, shook his hands with emphasis on every other word. This was the man who had been driving Lana crazy for the past month. Despite this, Alvin had trouble being angry at the older man babbling like a young child. "A lot of work left to be done, and we may never get colors with only a blind subject, but this is truly marvelous. Attached you'll find the lexicon and notes. We are all eagerly awaiting your report on how well it helps you to communicate with the subject."
As the video stopped, Alvin shook his head. "Great, we have half of an alien-to-English dictionary. Forty percent? You are going to sound like an undergrad on his first trip to Cancun on spring break. ‘I drinking…the water. Where…um, where is bathroom?'"
Lana laughed at him. "You do know how to make light of a bad situation. Tom and Sandra should be back soon. They'll need to see the video and then we all need to try to learn this language. Maybe then I can offload babysitting duty onto you."
After dinner that night, Lana spread out the flash cards she created from the file Farnsworth had sent. After several hours, none of them felt that they had any command over the language. Tom broke first.
"Dammit, Lana. I'm too old to be learnin' another language." He banged his fist on the table and stood up to leave. "If I couldn't learn Spanish livin' so close to Mexico, what makes you think that I can learn this gobley-gook? This is egghead stuff. I'm only here to fly the ship."
Lana stood as well and blocked him. "Thomas Padraig O'Brien. You. Will. Not. Speak to me in that tone of voice. I am two years older than you. So shove it."
Lana glared at him, supporting herself with her hands pressed firmly onto the table. He held her stare and the two stayed like that for a full minute before Alvin and Sandra started to get uncomfortable. Alvin opened his mouth to try to break the tension. To his surprise, Sandra beat him to it.
"Captain, Doctor. We are all frazzled right now and this is well outside of any of our expertise. Maybe we should rest for tonight. We all want to know more about Sam, but this is like studying for an exam. Going too long is simply counter-productive."
Lana sighed. "Sandra, you're probably right. Let's break for tonight and we can study this mess in half hour chunks after each meal going forward." She turned back to her husband. "Tom, go to bed. I'll be sleeping in the habitat tonight. You can apologize in the morning once you've realized that you are acting like a fool." With that, she turned and walked off to the closets where the pressure suits were kept.
Tom shoved his fists into his pockets. "That woman drives me crazy sometimes. I love her, but, dammit, why does she have to be so stubborn about things?"
Alvin reached out to the older man. "Come on, Tom. I think she learned that from you." Tom let out a chuckle, so Alvin continued. "You know how much she's hated being stuck in here all day taking care of Sam. This is our chance to be able to help her with that."
Tom dropped his head. "Suppose so. Boy, when did you get so smart about women?"
Alvin clapped him on the back. "Why, I learned from the best, of course. Remember the number one rule you taught me after I proposed to Sandra?"
"Number one rule: She's always right," they said in unison. Sandra rolled her eyes as she shook her head.
Tom continued, "Alright, guess I'll eat me some crow in the morning. Goodnight, you two."
As they walked over to the hatch, Alvin looked at Sandra. "Hun, I'm very proud of you. I know you don't like to speak out in those kinds of situations." They paused so he could give her a brief hug and then continued to get their suits. Lana had already left for the Hab.
They reached the habitat hoping to speak to Lana, but she had already gone to bed. As they removed their suits, Alvin faced Sandra. "I'm a little worried about Lana. I've known those two for a decade and never seen her react like that."
Sandra paused and put her hand on his arm. "I know, hun. This mission has been difficult for all of us, but at least we have been able to do the research we were sent to do. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, but we probably should have all been taking turns with Sam in the first place. We can talk to her in the morning. I think the Captain will agree to a change in schedule where we all take turns."
Alvin tossed and turned all night long. Two years remained of their mission, and Lana seemed ready to crack. If Lana couldn't complete the mission, her legacy would be shattered. She'd be the laughing stock of the scientific community. All of her research would be reduced to a footnote beneath a Wikipedia entry stating that NASA replaced her mid-mission.
When he awoke, Sandra was gone. Alvin tried to remember a time when she had risen before him, but this was a new one for him. Could the stress be getting to her as well? Have I been so caught up in Lana's trouble that I haven't paid attention to how Sandy was doing? Sandra was his rock. If she cracked, his entire world wouldn't make sense any longer. He threw on his coveralls to search for her.
He yanked the door to their quarters open and paused. He heard voices.
"Good morning, Dr. O'Brien." Sandra's quiet greeting could barely be heard over the hum of the life support equipment.
"Good morning, Sandra. Please, I'm not really in the mood for talking this morning. Let me get my suit on and report back to my prison." Alvin imagined Lana's shoulders slumping. He sighed and headed over towards them.
"Well, if you don't want to talk, then you had better listen." Sandra's spoke louder this time. The anger in her voice made Alvin p
ause.
"That's no way to speak to me, young lady. I'm not accustomed to being treated like a child."
"Maybe you should stop acting like a child then." Sandra hissed. "This isn't about you. This is about all of us. This is about all of humanity. This mission may not be going the way you wanted, but it's not going the way any of us expected. You and Alvin talked of the Nobel Prize. Working with Sam, you'll get a Nobel for that."
Sandra paused but Lana remained silent. "I'm not doing this for you. I like you and all, but if you want to waste an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, go ahead. But Alvin looks up to you. Seeing you acting like this is tearing him apart. You need to get your act together or I'll personally report to Houston that you are unfit for duty."
Lana's head dropped. She replied in a low voice, "I don't know that I can. Dealing with this has taken every bit of me. There is nothing left to give."
Sandra took the older woman's hand. "You won't do it alone. The language has been cracked, and we can all take turns caring for Sam and we will all study the language without trying to master it in one evening."
"I'll try if all of you are there to help."
"That's all we can ask of anyone. Now, I believe that the Captain has something he'd like to say to you as well. Go, I'll deal with Alvin." Sandra gently pushed her towards the cabinet where the suits were stored. After Lana cycled through the air lock, Sandra turned around. "Alvin, you can come out, I know you were eavesdropping."
Alvin stepped out from behind the corner. "How did you know?"
"You aren't as quiet as you think." She grinned for a moment but then it faded. "You're not upset about what I told Dr. O'Brien, are you?"
"No, I think you're right. I've tried being supportive but she kept on withdrawing. Tough love is probably exactly what she needed. Let's get dressed and eat here to give Tom and Lana some privacy. Then we can work on learning that language."
Little by little, they learned the language that the NASA team had worked out. Alvin taught Sam English as well. Sam's grasp on their language grew faster than theirs did on his. The rest of the crew felt nothing but relief at the prospect of being able to communicate in their native language.
Alvin shared the sentiment to a degree but felt that something was up. Unless this species was unusually gifted at linguistics, Sam's progress seemed unnatural. I'd swear that he knew English before we ever met him, but that's ridiculous. Where could he have learned a human language?
As comfort in understanding one another increased, Sam told his story in halting sentences.
"I am Donoon. I come from… city of Barakaaks. We live in great cave under surface. Food. Warm. Air. Is rough life. Everyone is helping. No enough help. People dying. I am…lose…my sight. Cannot see. Cannot work. I am throwing to surface to die. You save my life."
Sandra leaned forward and patted Sam—Donoon's hand. "That's horrible. Is there anything we can do to help?"
Donoon shook his head. "Donoon no help Barakaaks. Barakaaks leave Donoon die. Donoon leave Barakaaks die."
How does a blind man learn an alien body language? Alvin grimaced.
"Die? Why would your people be dying?" Tom broke in.
"Sickness long time. Sickness gone but not great people left. Not people to keep warm, Bara cold." In fits and starts, Donoon painted a picture of a dying moon made survivable by a society-wide effort to create and store the requirements of life. He described thousands dying of a plague that came after the collapse of a temple built over an ancient hot spring.
When pressed, he admitted that the Barakaaks would welcome help from humans and accept a diplomatic mission. But he refused to show the entrance to the subterranean society or help the humans reach out to the Barakaaks.
Despite this, the White House began a flurry of activity. The President brought Sonia Mendez out of retirement. Mendez reopened diplomatic relations with Cuba a generation before; the international community agreed that if anyone had the wherewithal to establish an embassy with an alien race, it was her. NASA recalled an asteroid mining ship so they could refit it to carry supplies for an extended diplomatic mission.
A year later, the population of Titan would grow with over a hundred diplomats, marines, and support personnel. Alvin suspected it was going to be a mess.
Salaris
Salaris woke slowly. Phosphorescent lichen illuminated the room in a dim glow. She looked around but didn't see anything she recognized. She thought she had explored every inch of the Barakaak territory in her youth, but wherever she was now, Vaamick had kept hidden.
She noticed a door on the far wall. Salaris attempted to stand but realized that she was bound. As her senses slowly returned, she realized that she was lying in something wet and sticky. Her head throbbed.
Salaris tried to turn but her bindings were too tight. As she struggled, she felt a drip on her ear. The tangy scent of blood entered her nostrils. She gasped. She was lying in a pool of her own blood.
The thought sickened her. With renewed effort, she fought her bindings. As she kicked a wave of pain and nausea washed over her. More tentative, she flexed her leg. It was broken.
She remembered Vaamick's guards beating her until she lost consciousness. They must have brought her hear while she was out.
With a groan, the door opened. Lomis stood at the entry carrying a bag. Salaris glanced downward with a prayer of thanks to Bara. Lomis would help her.
"Lomis, Vaamick has gone mad. Help me get out of these restraints. Did anyone come with you? I think my leg is broken."
"I'm not here to help you," Lomis responded. "How could you? I thought you were devoted to Bara."
"I am devoted to Bara," Salaris cried. "How could you believe that I am not? But I follow all of her teachings, not just the ones that are convenient. The humans don't deserve this."
"Humans don't worship Bara. That makes them allies of the Saarkaaks. That makes their lives forfeit. If you can't see that, then yours is too. I'm not going to argue this with you."
"If you aren't here to argue and you're not here to help, why are you here?" Salaris spat. Worse than her throbbing head or broken leg, Salaris's heart ached that Lomis had been twisted by Vaamick's lies.
"I came to get you washed up and make you presentable for when Vaamick questions you today." Lomis shifted her weight. Her eyes roamed the room, looking everywhere but at Salaris. "He wants to know what other Saarkaak spies are in the temple. Oh, Salaris. How did you get messed up with the Saarkaaks? When they contacted you, you should have told someone. I could have helped you."
Salaris shook her head. "What are you talking about? I've never met a Saarkaak. Surely you don't believe that anyone who disagrees with Vaamick is a spy."
Lomis unpacked her bag. She knelt next to Salaris and opened a pouch of wipes. As she cleaned the blood and the grime from her friend, she continued the conversation. "Our only chance to win the war is to stick together. Vaamick sat down with Kasil and me to talk about your betrayal. He was genuinely concerned about how we were acting to your betrayal. He even promoted me. Instead of starting as a cadet, I'm now the leader of a unit."
"My betrayal? Lomis, listen to me. I've known Vaamick for years now. He isn't concerned about your feelings. He only wanted to turn you against me. I see it worked. You talk about betrayal. How about the fact that my best friend took a position with the man who is going to kill me?"
"I'm not dealing with this. I'm just going to wash you and get out of here. This place gives me the creeps. I didn't even know this tunnel existed." Lomis reached Salaris's head. She gasped at the blood. "You shouldn't have fought. It would have gone easier on you."
Salaris winced as the antiseptic stung the cut on her skull. "I didn't fight. They beat me anyway. From the looks of my leg, they kept beating me after I was out of it."
Lomis finished her cleaning duties and began to pack up. "Vaamick wouldn't allow that. You are lying. I can't trust anything you say anymore."
"Hey, before you leave, can you get the s
kin under the shackles? It itches and I'm sure it smells bad." Salaris watched her former friend consider it.
"Okay. It's not like you can escape." Lomis unlocked the shackles and set them aside.
"I'm sorry, Lomis," Salaris whispered.
"Sorry?" Lomis asked, confused. "Are you admitting that you committed treason?"
Salaris kicked her in the chest with her good leg. Lomis back peddled and then fell. Her head made a hollow sound as it bounced against the stone floor.
"I'm sorry for that." Salaris spoke to the prone body as she fished for the keys with her toes. Seconds ticked by as she maneuvered the keys towards her hands. She only had one chance at this. Lomis wasn't going to stay unconscious forever.
Salaris swung her good leg and let go of the key bring mid arch. For a few, terrifying heartbeats, she thought that the keys wouldn't reach her hands. But then, the ring caught her finger. She strained against the handcuffs. Pain radiated through her shoulder and down her arm. She almost dropped the keys.
With a grunt and a tear in her eye, she got the key to the lock. It didn't fit. She turned to the next key and stretched again. This time it slid into the keyhole. Just a little bit further. Just when she thought that there was no more slack in her body, the lock clicked open. She spent the next few moments stretching her tortured muscles.
Salaris sat up. The other guards expected Lomis back soon. She hopped on one leg across the room, steadying herself against the wall. She looked for something, anything that could be used as a crutch. But the room was empty, save for the bed and Lomis's bucket. Instead, she dragged herself against the wall towards the door. The rough stone grated against her arm. After a painstaking minute, she reached the door.
Once Upon a Saturn Moon Page 4