by J. J. Green
Sparks gaze drifted to her face, and when he saw who she was he started so violently that she almost dropped him. “H-H-Harrington?” His surprise seemed to jolt him out of his drunken stupor. His body grew less floppy and he tried to get his legs underneath him.
“Yes, it’s me,” Jas said. “Now get on your feet and come with me over here if you don’t want to get thrown out.”
Sparks made the few steps to her table without too much help. He sat opposite Jas, rested his elbows on the table, and rubbed his face. Some of his slightly haughty demeanor began to return, as if the shame of Jas seeing him in the state he was in hurt his pride. “Harrington. Who’d have thought it?” He smiled ruefully. “I may have had a little too much to drink.”
Jas wrinkled her nose, recalling the former physician of the Galathea’s condescension towards alcoholics and other addicts. “Yeah, I think you may have. What the krat are you doing on Mars?”
Chapter Eleven
“Come on, Sis,” Phelan pleaded. “It’ll be fun. Now that the ore shipment’s gone planetside, we can use the hold. We can play in two teams. Right, guys?”
He scanned the faces of everyone sitting at the table in the dining room, his eyes asking for their support. With Jas on Mars, the ship’s crew was down to the captain, Sayen, the android navigator, whose name was Prosper, Flahive, and Carl. Prosper was in her cabin. Carl wasn’t sure what she did in there, probably recharge or something. Flahive joined them at meals to chat, though he didn’t eat human food. Sayen had told Carl that he had a machine in his cabin that cleaned waste from and added nutrients to the liquid in his suit.
Carl wasn’t sure that Phelan’s transparent attempt to cheer his sister up was such a good idea. She’d been looking a little better since he’d paid her a visit with Flux, but expecting her to take part in some weird new game might be too much.
“What’s this game?” Carl asked, easing the pressure on Sayen. “Can you explain it again?”
“It’s simple,” Phelan replied. “Each team has one person as an attacker and one person as a target. The aim is for the attackers to hit the targets with a ball. Whenever the target’s hit, their team gains a point. The side with the most points loses. There are a few more rules, but that’s about it.”
“So the attackers can get hit without gaining points?” asked Carl.
“That’s right. And the targets can catch the ball and throw it to their team mate or at the other team’s target, but if they get hit, their team gets a point.”
“Sounds kind of painful to be the target,” said Carl.
“No,” Phelan said, waving his hand dismissively. “The ball’s pretty big and soft. And it’s difficult to throw hard in zero-g.”
“Zero-g?”
“Yeah. Did I forget to tell y’all that part? We have to turn off artificial gravity to play. Oh yeah, also you can’t touch a surface and hold the ball at the same time.”
It did actually sound like a lot of fun, and they’d spent days aboard the ship with nothing to do. Flying the Bricoleur using its Oootoon Drive to Mars had been the only interesting thing Carl had done. But Sayen didn’t look like she was feeling up to it.
She was bent over her breakfast bowl, her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand while she idly stirred her cereal with a spoon.
“Sayen?” Phelan asked. “What do you think? The bots must have about finished cleaning the hold. I told them to do it over an hour ago. It’ll only take me a minute to print the ball.”
Sayen lifted her spoon and plopped it in the bowl. “What the hell. Why not?”
“Yes,” Phelan exclaimed. He got up. “Y’all meet me at the hold in half an hour.”
“Print some helmets too,” Sayen called as he was leaving.
“Aww, why?” her brother retorted. “It isn’t that dangerous.”
“From the sound of it, it could be,” Sayen said. “And our visas to go planetside aren’t through yet, so we’d be relying on your sick bay if someone has an accident.”
“My sick bay’s pretty good.”
“If you want me to play, Phelan, print some safety helmets.”
“Okay, Bossypants.”
After Phelan had left, Carl said, “You sure you’re up to it, Sayen? I can say I don’t want to play if it’s too much for you.”
“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind. I want him to stop worrying about me.”
“That’s very wise of you,” said Flahive. “The captain is experiencing strong negative emotions at the moment, somewhat at odds with the impression he’s giving.”
“You probably shouldn’t tell us that,” Carl said.
“I don’t know. He’s only stating the obvious, to me anyway,” Sayen said.
“You, however,” Flahive said, “seem to be feeling a little better.”
“Yes, I think so,” Sayen said.
“Are you going to play?” Carl asked Flahive.
“I’d like to, but my suit is too restricting. I think the captain has Prosper in mind as the fourth player.”
***
Flahive was right, though Phelan said they needed the alien’s services to act as a referee. He’d printed helmets for everyone but Prosper, who didn’t need one as her metal/silicon skull was tough enough. Carl hadn’t spoken much with the android. She could hold a simple conversation, but that seemed to be as far as her abilities went.
“I think it’ll be fairest if me and Carl play against Sayen and Prosper,” Phelan said. “Prosper’s the strongest and fastest of all of us, so that way we’ll be evenly matched.”
“You think I need Prosper on my side to stand a chance of beating you two?” Sayen asked, a glint in her eye.
“Come on, Sis, you’re easily the weakest of all of us. But with Prosper working with you, it evens everything out. Let her be the attacker, and you be the target.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Sayen said. “You and Prosper against me and Carl.”
“Well that doesn’t make any sense,” Phelan replied. “I’ve played this before and Prosper could beat any of us with both hands tied behind her back. Together, we’ll beat you two easily. It’ll be boring.”
“Humor me, okay?”
“If you’re gonna insist, you can have it your way.” Phelan handed out the helmets and closed the hold door.
Carl and Sayen went to the opposite side end of the large, square, metal-walled room. Ordinarily, it was used to store the precious metal-bearing ore that Phelan mined.
“Does Phelan know about your enhancements?” Carl asked Sayen quietly as they went.
“No,” Sayen replied, a small smile brightening her sad face. “When we were growing up, Phelan always beat me at everything. He never let up or gave me a chance, even though I was younger and a girl. Let me play attacker this round, okay?”
Carl chuckled. “Go for it.”
They put on their helmets and after giving a warning, Phelan turned off the gravity. Everyone rose gently upward. Carl and Sayen were at the back wall of the chamber, ready to push off. Flahive was in the middle. Prosper had the ball.
“Go,” Phelan shouted. Prosper threw the ball hard at Carl, but Sayen was ready. She caught it and almost too fast to see, with a flick of her wrist she threw it at Phelan, who was still fastening his helmet strap. Even at the distance across the hold, the look of shock on his face as the ball hit him square in his chest was comical.
“Phelan and Prosper, one point” announced Flahive, his deep voice echoing around the chamber.
“Prosper,” complained Phelan. “Pay attention.” He hadn’t seen the first interaction and lay the blame on the android.
“I was,” said Prosper. “The ball was traveling too fast for me to intercept it.”
Phelan pushed off from the wall to grab the floating ball and pass it to her. “Loser goes first,” he called to Carl and Sayen and whispered something to the android. Prosper nodded and took aim.
She wasn’t aiming directly at Carl, her target, but at the ceiling. Almost
too late, Carl realized what she was about to do. The ball left the android’s hand. He tried to figure out the angle of the ricochet. He nearly made it out of the way, but not quite. The ball was coming straight for him. At the last millisecond, Sayen snatched it before it hit his shoulder.
“Woah, fast work, Sis,” exclaimed Phelan, sounding a little puzzled.
The words had hardly left his lips before the ball hit bounced off his helmet after flying across the hold in a blur.
“Phelan and Prosper, two points.”
“Whaaa...?” said Phelan.
Carl was fighting the urge to laugh. Sayen turned a somersault and pushed off from the ceiling. She hit the floor with her hands and rebounded. “Loser goes first, right?” she called. “What are you waiting for?”
Phelan was floating lazily near the roof, his brow creased into a frown. Pushing off with one hand, he grabbed Prosper’s arm and pulled her close.
“Hey, no delays,” Sayen said. “It’s your turn. Hurry up. Look, your target’s right here.” She pointed at Carl and winked. “Take your best shot.”
Phelan gently pushed Prosper down so that she could reach the ball, which had come to rest a few meters away. He was propelled into a spin. Prosper didn’t take aim this time. As soon as she took hold of the ball, she threw it all in one smooth motion. It hit the side of the hold, ricocheted across, bounced off the floor, and came flying toward Carl.
Sayen’s hands were clasped together in a double fist. She used them like a racket to return the ball. Phelan was still spinning. When he was facing away from them, the ball hit him on the butt, pushing him gently into the wall.
“Phelan and Prosper, three points,” intoned Flahive.
Carl couldn’t control himself any longer. He roared with laughter and so did Sayen. Their guffaws were multiplied as they echoed around the bare hold walls. Prosper seemed to get the joke, for she smiled, and Flahive’s deep chortles provided a bass note to the cacophony.
Phelan took the joke in good humor and laughed a little himself, though he continued to look puzzled.
Suddenly, he held up a hand. “Hey, guys,” he called. “Can it for a minute. A comm’s come through.”
As the laughter died down, the warble of the interface screen next to the door could be heard. Phelan pushed off from the ceiling and hung upside down at the screen as he accepted the message.
“It’s Jas,” he said. “She says she hasn’t found out anything about Shadows or the Council, but she’s stumbled across something else. Do you guys know anything about aliens called Paths?”
Chapter Twelve
Their visas came through the next day, and Carl, Sayen, and Flahive went planetside to meet Jas, Sparks, and the weapons researchers, leaving Phelan and Prosper to look after the ship. Flahive’s companionship was desired by all concerned. The scientists at the research institute were especially pleased to hear that an empath was at hand to communicate with the Paths and perhaps shed some light on them. Flahive, too, was interested to talk to the aliens. He didn’t recall hearing of them before and wanted to find out all about them.
Carl landed the shuttle at the spaceport and waited until Sayen and Flahive had disembarked before moving it into the hangar. He then went to join them at immigration control. The health check was thorough and included passing through a device that he was sure was a Shadow scanner.
His gaze quickly zoomed in on Jas’ tall, shapely figure waiting for them at the gate. She was a welcome sight to his eyes, even after just a couple of days apart. The strength of the hug she gave him after they stepped into Mars Territory lent him some hope for the future.
“Great to see you,” she said, “but let’s get you below ground quickly. Have you got your Rad X counters?”
Carl held up his arm. After passing the health check, an immigration official had stuck a square of plastic to the inside of his forearm. It was a set of bars that would change color to signal radiation exposure. Currently, the lowest bar was green, and the one above it was pale yellow. The official had told him that if the top bar turned red, he needed to get underground and then to a hospital immediately for radiation treatment.
“Good. You should all be fine. There aren’t any solar storms forecast, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. Let’s go.” She led them to the Loop station, where they caught a train to the research facility. On the way, she related her chance encounter with Sparks.
“It’ll be good to see Doctor Sparks again,” Sayen said.
“Will it?” Jas asked. “I never understood why you liked him so much.”
“He’s a great doctor,” Sayen replied.
“If you were one of the elite, maybe,” Jas replied. “He was a misborn to the regular crew.”
“That’s a little harsh, Jas,” Sayen protested. “He had a wonderful bedside manner. He was never in a hurry. He always listened.”
“Huh, you never saw his bad side,” Jas said. “Anyway, he’s changed. You’ll see.”
When Sparks met them at the research institute reception, Carl saw what Jas meant. The doctor was thin, and though it had only been a few months since they’d last seen him, he looked noticeably older. What was more he had a haunted or hunted, air about him. One of the two. His grin as he greeted them was ghastly.
“Sayen, how pleasant to see you again,” Sparks said. “And Carl. And you must be Mr. Flahive. I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance. Step this way, please, everyone. My colleagues are very keen to meet you.” He’d brought security clearances for them, which he gave out as they passed inside.
“Have you been studying the Paths ever since we got back from the Polestar mission?” Sayen asked him.
“I have. First aboard a quarantine satellite and latterly here, after an unfortunate accident prompted the removal of the Paths to a more secure setting.”
“An unfortunate accident?” asked Flahive.
His booming voice took Sparks by surprise, and he hesitated before answering, “Yes. Our alien friends induced a coma in a technician, and soon after that incident they killed an unauthorized person who entered their chamber.”
“They killed someone?” exclaimed Jas. “You didn’t tell me that. Flahive, maybe you should reconsider your offer to help.”
“Oh, there’s no need,” Sparks said. “They’re quite safe. They only kill when they’re under severe threat. Communicating with them telepathically shouldn’t cause any harm. I have to confess, I was extremely relieved to hear of your acquaintance, Mr. Flahive. I have high hopes that you may offer the breakthrough we’ve been looking for all this time.”
“I can’t promise anything,” Flahive replied as he thumped alongside them, “but I’ll certainly try my best to help. I believe we’re getting close to the creatures? I’m picking up some strong mind waves.”
“Excellent,” Sparks said. “Excellent. Yes, we’re nearly there.”
At the end of the corridor, three people in lab coats hovered. As they approached the scientists, a lank-haired one came forward, holding an interface. Though Carl possessed zero telepathic ability, he sensed a great dislike between Sparks and the scientist.
Ignoring the humans, the woman went directly to Flahive. Without any ceremony, she said, “You’re the empath, Flahive?”
“Yes,” he replied a little late, as if he were concentrating on something else.
“I need you to read through this document and sign it. You have to understand, our work here is top secret. You can’t repeat a thing of what we’re about to tell you, nor anything that you learn or see involving these creatures.”
“Please let me see your document,” Flahive said. He manipulated the interface in his flexible disc appendages. The English words disappeared and were replaced by his own written language of spots and splashes. “I’m sorry, this may take me some time to read.”
Flahive bent his face plate over the screen and very slowly scrolled down. They waited. The woman scientist looked back at her colleagues, who were impatiently fidgeting at t
he entrance to the room that presumably held the Paths.
Carl was interested to see the unusual aliens again, though he didn’t want to get too close, remembering the powerful emotions that they emanated. Everyone who got within their range of influence was affected. They seemed to be far enough away at the moment as he wasn’t feeling anything unusual.
Flahive moved the document down another couple of centimeters. Carl marveled at how slowly he read. Everyone was getting bored standing around with nothing to do. Carl pulled out his personal interface and opened the screen.
“I’m afraid your device won’t work in here,” Sparks said. “The facility broadcasts a dampening field. For security.”
Sighing, Carl slid his interface back into his pocket.
“It’s all the same as you would expect,” the woman scientist said to Flahive in a blatant effort to hurry him. “I can read it out to you if you’d like.”
“Just a little while longer,” said Flahive. “I’ve nearly finished.”
But he hadn’t nearly finished at all. They stood and waited for at least another ten minutes by Carl’s estimation, though it was hard to tell now that his interface wasn’t working. Sayen yawned and leaned against the wall. Jas folded her arms and tapped her foot. The woman scientist rolled her eyes at her colleagues.
Finally, Flahive was finished. He translated the document back into English and returned the interface to the scientist.
“You have to sign it here,” she said, holding it back out to him.
“I’m very sorry,” Flahive said. “After reading through the terms and restrictions you wish me to agree to, I’ve decided I’m not prepared to go ahead with communicating with these creatures.”
“What?” spluttered Sparks. “But...you have to. He has to, doesn’t he?” he asked the woman, a childish whine creeping into his voice.
The scientist was glaring at Flahive. “No, not strictly speaking, he doesn’t. If you’ll wait a moment, I’ll talk with my colleagues. Maybe we can ease some of these requirements. I’ll see what we can do.”