He let out a scream and struggled to shield himself from the jet of water, shouting, "Cold! Cold!"
* * * * *
Connelly reclined in her chair positioned on the side of a very long, oval table. The chair, which was vaguely shaped like a clamshell felt strangely comfortable. Peterson and Choi sat across from her, while Robert was to her right and Captain Harris was seated at the head of the table. All were freshly showered and had completed the three month journey in perfect health.
Peterson shifted in his chair. "Should someone go look for him?"
Robert nodded. "Maybe his impact chair malfunctioned?"
"Unlikely," Choi said. "All systems are green across the board. His chair deactivated with the others."
Robert twisted his lips in thought. "Ethan has been known to take long showers."
"Malfunctioning chair or long shower," Harris said, "It doesn't change the fact that we have a schedule to keep."
Connelly sighed. "I'll go find him." Connelly stood and turned to the entryway.
The doors slid open and Willard walked in wearing a blue bathrobe and a white towel wrapped around his head. "Doesn't this billion dollar spaceship have hot water?"
"Of course." Harris said. "Why?"
"I prefer my drinking water ice cold, and my shower molten hot. The showers here—not hot. Very cold." Ethan took the empty seat to the right of Robert.
Connelly sat back down. "Mine was fine."
Choi made eye contact with Willard. "Maybe someone thought you needed a cold shower?" She smiled sarcastically.
"Was that a joke?" Willard said. "You joke? And, by the way, I haven't forgotten that trick you played before we left."
Robert turned to Willard. "What trick?"
Willard took a deep breath. "I was having trouble getting into—"
"Gentlemen." Harris's voice was calm but firm. "We have more important things than cold showers to talk about."
"Right," Willard said. "Europa…. But this doesn't feel any different. Can we see Europa? Jupiter? Is there a window nearby?"
Harris smiled ever so slightly. "Glad you mentioned it. First on our agenda is a quick training on how to access the windows on Surveyor."
"But there are no windows," Willard said.
"Actually," Choi said, "We're surrounded by windows."
Everyone searched the smooth paneled surface of the curved ceiling and walls.
"I don't see any," Robert said. "Are they hidden?"
Harris pulled a small remote control device, the size of a credit card, from his jumpsuit pocket. "In a manner of speaking." Harris put the remote control on the table so that everyone could see it. "Some of you may have noticed a small remote in the desk drawer of your quarters. Additionally, you will find a remote, identical to this one, in every room on board Surveyor that has at least one outer hull wall. You'll also all receive your own personal remote, which you can carry with you at all times."
Peterson took the remote and inspected it. "There's only one button." He looked at Harris. "What does it do?"
"Lights," Harris said to no one in particular. The lights, which streamed up from where the floor met the walls, dimmed until the room was pitch black. "Now point the remote at the ceiling and push the button."
Connelly couldn't see Peterson comply, but after ten second she noticed a change in the ceiling. It began to glow white, gently becoming translucent.
Harris began to speak as whatever was happening to the ceiling, continued. "Several of the hull's interior and exterior panels are made from a new material that becomes transparent when a specific electrical charge is applied. Just point the remote at almost any portion of the outer hull and…"
Within fifteen seconds, the majority of the ceiling had become completely transparent. Connelly gasped.
"…Voila!" Harris said.
Before them was a spectacle no human had ever seen before. Taking up a large portion of the view was Europa, which was bright white, crisscrossed with crimson lines that looked like scars. She could see it so perfectly, so clearly, all her problems with this mission were forgotten. She smiled widely. This was a moon sized Antarctica!
Connelly looked left and gasped again. Jupiter was there, but it wasn't the still shot of Jupiter people are used to seeing. It was fluid and active. Swirls of yellow, orange and red churned over the surface of the planet. Connelly knew that Jupiter was the largest, most powerful of the planets, but to her, from this perspective, it looked fragile.
The conference room glowed light orange from the light reflecting from Jupiter and Europa. Connelly's eyes adjusted, and she could see the rest of the crew, all looking up, mouths open wide.
Robert started to speak. "Oh my… That's, ahh, that's…"
"Incredible," Connelly finished.
Robert nodded.
"I can't believe it," Peterson said, his voice soft with awe. "Jupiter…"
"You're looking at the largest planet in our solar system folks. She's composed of hydrogen, helium, water, nitrogen—swirling around a tiny, super-dense core. She's beautiful, but deadly. Insurmountable pressure and extreme radiation make Jupiter impossible to explore."
Connelly's attention was piqued. "Radiation? Will it affect us?"
Harris took his eyes off the view and turned to Connelly. "The Surveyor, the landers and even TES are protected by electromagnetic shielding. This blocks 99% of the radiation. The shield on TES is powerful enough to cover a two mile circumference and should allow us to set down in an ideal melt zone and close enough to explore one of the red lines."
"Why didn't you tell us this before?" Willard asked, his voice serious, but his eyes still on the view through the ceiling.
"It's a non-issue," Choi said. "The electromagnetic shielding is sufficient."
Willard looked down from the view and met Choi's eyes. "Are there any more non-issues I should know about? Because I can't keep this crew safe if I don't know every possible danger that exists up here."
"You weren't informed because it's not a danger," Choi said.
"Not a danger?" Willard huffed. "What would happen if, in theory, the electromagnetic shield and whatever back-up systems are in place fail? What would happen? In theory?"
Choi looked at Harris, unsure of how to answer.
Willard rolled his eyes. "End result. Don't need the details. How long would we have to live."
Choi looked back at Willard. "Six minutes."
"Six minutes to live. Any ways to avoid being fried by the radiation?" Willard asked as his leg began to bounce beneath the table.
Harris cleared his throat. "We would pilot Surveyor into a stationary position on the far side of Europa, which would block the majority of the radiation, until the problem was fixed."
Connelly sat forward. She could see where Willard was headed. "And if we're on the surface?"
"You have six minutes to get six feet below the ice. That would block the radiation," Harris said.
"Listen," Willard said, "I know you don't think I even need to be here, but I have a track record of keeping people alive, and if you're working against me, I can't do that. I'm not asking, I'm telling you, give every possible worst case scenario before we head to the surface, or we're not going."
Connelly wanted to object to Willard's demand, but she knew he was right. He'd saved her life more than once and she knew it was largely because he was always prepared for anything. "Ethan's right," she said, "give him what he needs, or we're not going."
Harris let out a long sigh. "Choi, see to it that Mr. Willard is fully informed about all possible dangers."
Choi nodded with a grim expression. "Yes, sir. But I think he'll find—"
Willard interrupted. "I think you'll find that danger comes from the unexpected. That thing no one sees coming, is what gets people killed."
A faint glow shimmering on the table top caught Willard's attention. He slowly looked up. "For example, if a shower of glowing spheres were to crash into the outer hull, would we be prepared for
it?"
"Fiction is not something we prepare for," Choi said.
Willard looked her straight in the eyes. "Maybe it should be."
Choi looked at him, her eyes reflecting her confusion.
Willard made the most sarcastic face he could manage and then thrust his index finger toward the transparent ceiling.
All eyes went to the ceiling.
"Oh my God," Peterson said.
Connelly's eyes grew wide as she looked up at the view, which minutes ago, was Europa and Jupiter alone. Now there were hundreds, maybe thousands of glowing spheres, the size of golf balls, hurtling towards them. They were beautiful, shimmering like living stars, but caused Connelly's muscles to tense.
This isn't right.
All eyes remained glued to the clear ceiling, watching as the closest of the spheres approached the outer hull. The glowing orb struck the hull and began moving along the side. The brightness of the orb became dazzling for a second and then it exploded with the force of a quarter stick of dynamite.
The room shook and the lights flickered.
Harris leapt to his feet and headed for the door.
"What the hell?" Peterson said.
"What's happening?" Connelly asked.
"I don't know," Harris said as he neared the exit.
Connelly returned her eyes to the transparent ceiling and watched as the cloud of glowing orbs closed in.
This is definitely not right!
Willard shot an evil eye at Choi. "If we live through this, I want to know everything."
Choi nodded, all traces of annoyance gone from her face. Then she bolted after Harris, who had just exited the room.
Willard looked up at the ominous view. "Fiction my ass."
The room shook as a second explosion rocked the hull, then another, and another.
Stumbling across the shaking room, the rest of the crew headed for the door. Connelly looked up at the cloud of shiny bombs headed their way. Instead of wondering how they were going to survive the massive pummeling, her thoughts jumped ahead to the next obvious question.
Where did they come from?
CHAPTER 8 -- THE ATTACK
The ship's violent shaking reminded Peterson of the time his brothers tricked him into riding his bicycle down a very long staircase. Every jolt shook his body so much that his teeth began to chatter. He clenched his jaw tight to stop the annoyance and set to the task of moving through the ship.
Twenty seconds into the attack, the lights had gone out. They were replaced by dim, red emergency lights. So now, not only did the shaking floor make it hard to walk, but the dull light made it nearly impossible to see.
As he stepped forward, Peterson's feet hit the solid grey floor panels, sometimes too early and too hard, and other times too late. He lurched forward, bumping into Connelly. And she was having just as hard a time walking.
"Sorry," Peterson said, after colliding with Connelly.
"Which way to the control center? I lost sight of Choi!" Connelly shouted over the rumble of the Surveyor's shuddering body.
Peterson flashed the schematics of the massive ship through his mind. It was hard to think with all the noise, but he recalled the data he needed. "That way!" he said, pointing to the left.
Connelly led the way, followed by Peterson, Willard and Robert.
Peterson rounded a corner behind Connelly and looked back. He saw a terrified Robert closing in and Willard behind him. But Willard's face wasn't etched with concern like the rest of them. He looked calm. Peterson couldn't tell if it was an illusion created by the vibrating ship, or if his eyesight was true, but he swore he could see the slightest smile on Willard's face.
Robert passed Peterson without saying a word, too preoccupied with their dilemma to care about Peterson's pit stop. Willard caught up and Peterson could see that the man, who was supposed to be watching out for their safety, appeared to be enjoying the danger.
Not really sure why, Peterson felt infuriated by Willard's lack of concern. "You enjoying this?" Peterson asked as Willard moved past.
Willard looked him in the eyes. His smile grew. "You're not?"
"We could die!" Peterson said.
"But what a way to go, right?"
Peterson nearly choked. Is he serious?
"Don't sweat it, Mikey, I always come out on top." Willard patted Peterson on the shoulder and moved past, into the control center.
Peterson followed him into the control center and was greeted by chaos.
He lumbered towards the center of the room, with Connelly, Robert and Willard. They looked like lost sheep in the middle of a lightning storm. Warning lights flashed in a myriad of colors, giving the room a seventies disco feel, and alluding to greater problems around the ship.
Harris and Choi were seated in twin chairs at the front of the control center, which was a pentagon shaped room with two chaired consoles on four of the walls. Peterson noticed that two of the vaulted ceilings panels were transparent. He gasped as he saw a cloud of what looked like millions of the tiny bombs floating in their direction.
"Some kind of charged particles!" It was Choi, screaming over the ambient noise. "The computer can't place them."
"I want to know what the hell we're dealing with here!" Harris shouted.
Choi threw her hands up. "The system is failing! We need to reboot!
Harris gazed up at the approaching cloud and looked unsure as dozens of explosions pounded the ship's hull. Peterson knew time was of the essence and any pause might make their situation more dire. He moved forward, intending to spur the captain on, but Willard beat him to the punch.
"Reboot!" Willard said, squeezing Harris's shoulder. "Do it now!"
Harris nodded. "System reboot in three…two…" Harris looked back at the rest of the crew. "Hold onto something!"
Peterson dove into the chair like a kid playing musical chairs and held onto the armrests with a python grip. Harris opened a small panel and depressed a single yellow button for three seconds.
Everything went black, which accentuated the approaching bombardment. Petersons's mouth slowly opened as the densest portion of the orb cloud grew closer. He jolted as the vents in the walls slammed shut and the hum of electricity cut out.
The only thing he could hear now was the shaking ship and each tiny explosion, as they continued to degrade the integrity of the outer hull. His eyes snapped to a single monitor, which blinked to life. Text scrolled across the screen.
Life support off…
Gravity off…
Peterson felt himself become weightless. A surge of nausea filled his stomach, threatening to make him retch. He moved his hand to his mouth, preparing to block any bile that might escape, but the motion created by his arm was enough to move his entire body up off the chair in the weightless environment. He sucked in a breath and noticed the air becoming stale. He glanced at the computer screen and read the text upside down.
Life support systems off…
System shutdown…
Peterson worried that rebooting the system was a mistake. What if it didn't restart in time? What if it didn't restart at all?
Knowing his life was out of his hands, Peterson concerned himself with the only thing he could do to improve his safety. He pulled himself back toward the chair, but pulled too hard. He slammed into the seat of the chair and felt a pain throb in his side as the armrest pushed into his gut, knocking the wind out of him. Gasping for air, Peterson, righted himself, grabbed the other armrest and pulled himself firmly into the seat's cushion.
When he was finished, he glanced back at the screen and was relieved to see the startup sequence beginning.
System reboot...
Life support systems engaged...
Main electric engaged...
The room filled with a blinding light. Peterson squinted against the harsh glow, but opened his eyes painfully wide when he saw Willard floating ten feet up, clinging to a cargo box.
Robert, who was clinging to a support rail, his bod
y floating horizontal to the floor, noticed Willard as well. "What are you doing?"
Willard had a bewildered look on his face as he spun slowly around in midair. When he returned to facing Robert below, he said, "I thought it was bolted to the floor!"
A beep, which was barely audible over the rumbling ship, drew Peterson's eyes back to the console screen.
Gravity engaged...
Thud! Willard crashed to the floor, as did Robert. Everyone else had made it to a chair and Peterson knew they were feeling just as he did, sick with the sudden return of gravity. But also relief. He looked at the screen and wrung his sweating hands together.
Status check in 3...2...1...
Optimal atmosphere...
Optimal pressure...
Optimal gravity...
All systems functional...
Harris's voice boomed a command. "Take us into higher orbit!"
"Already on it!" Choi said.
Peterson watched through the clear ceiling as the approaching orbs began to move away, heading down. But he knew it wasn't the orbs moving. Surveyor's upward motion just made them look that way. Still, he couldn't help but think the mini-missiles had been aiming for the ship. But it was impossible to prove. It was most likely that they had witnessed a natural phenomenon not yet observed by astronomers.
Astrophysics wasn't Peterson's field, but he knew enough to compile several theories on how the bright spheres had been created and how they were spewed into space. Jupiter alone contained so many mysteries that Peterson felt overwhelmed when he considered them. Of course, theories, while useful, are not conclusive. To really know what the orbs were, he'd have to observe them again and again, until true scientific data could be gathered.
And he knew for a fact that he'd be happy never seeing one of those things again.
BENEATH - A Novel Page 8