by CK Burch
In the cargo bay she found Straub pacing. He seemed nervous. No, worse: he seemed uneasy. It was hard to tell from the damn facial displays on the helmets, but he might have been sweating.
″You alright?″ She asked as she walked by. She cared, but casually. Right now she was thinking about the atmospheric sounding and getting those readings for exploration. God she hoped it wasn't beyond the hazards of the HES. Or that the void went into space or something.
″I feel sick looking at it,″ Straub said.
″Why?″
″Have you looked at the damn thing?″
She did; there were ripples between the grooves and ideograms like there had always been but nothing more. The only different thing about it this time was the fact that the ripples were between the carvings, and that the carvings were even there at all. She looked back at Straub, really looked at him, and noticed that he was green. She hoped it was just the display. ″It looks fine.″
″Fine? What do you see?″
Oh, here we go. Whether or not he was playing it up, he was back on the radiation thing again. She was sure of it. But the look on his face was ill. He wasn't looking at the artifact, he was keeping his head low and his eyes to her, but his face was turned away from the artifact so that he wasn't looking at it. For a moment she almost believed it, but she knew Straub was smart enough to pull off an act this good. He'd fooled Kerrick, but he wasn't going to fool her. Not over this.
″The artifact is having a normal reaction, just like the ones we've produced on other tests. You look unwell, and if you're feeling like it you should go check in with Doctor Gaines, let him know your condition. As for me I'm going to keep working with the artifact.″ Then she turned away and walked quickly to the base of the artifact and began setting up the atmospheric sounder. It was a tripod, which she raised to full height, maybe four feet, and she mounted the pressure reader on top of it, looking for all the world like a goddamn mini cannon. Straub made no sound behind her.
Then she heard footsteps and he stood on the opposite side of the tripod. He still had his back turned towards the artifact. ″What can I do to assist you, Doctor?″
She had a feeling that he would come back. Catherine Tybalt was no Sydney Kerrick. Let the man come to you, not the other way around, and while Tybalt was a lot younger than Kerrick she felt she'd had a lot more experience. When you work in a field dominated by men, you have to know how to play them without them knowing it. Tybalt nodded at the sounder. ″Prime the charge and prepare the bolt for readings. I'm going to test the viscosity of the artifact, make sure it's still pliable.″
She got up and grabbed the measuring cable. What the hell, she thought, and extended it out to twenty feet and plunged it in. Nice and smooth and easy. Just slipped right through and into wherever the hell was on the other side. Now to find that part out. She pulled the cable back and walked around to the sounder. Straub stepped away; he looked worse. ″Are you okay or do I need to order you to the sick bay?″ she asked.
″Not okay,″ he said. ″I can't stand looking at that thing. Christ, can't you see how it's moving?″ He knelt over, put his head between his knees. She could hear him taking deep, long breaths to calm himself. ″Not okay. Feeling nausea, dizziness. I can't look at it. I just can't look at the goddamn thing. It looks like a bad piece of meat.″
She looked back at the object and did not see what he thought he was seeing. Was he delusional? Fuck, was he actually right about how this thing affected the mind? She shook her head. No. Straub could have whatever reaction he wanted to, but Tybalt needed to get in there and have a decent reading on atmosphere, if there was any. Please, god let there be something. An alien world, a floating asteroid field, something, anything. The find of the century. Of centuries. The void. God please.
″Stay down and collect yourself,″ she said, trying to sound sympathetic, not really finding the emotion for it. ″I'm going to take the sounding. Clear!″
The sounding device shot a beacon bolt attached to a thin cable out and into the side of the artifact. The cable kept unspooling – twenty feet, twenty-five, thirty, Jesus Christ – and finally the cable dropped, grew slack, and fell to the floor. The artifact hadn't solidified yet, hadn't cut the cable off. That meant that the bolt, wherever it was, had landed on something.
Something solid, she thought. She looked down at the readings on the holo display before her, the sensors in the bolt relaying information on the environment of the void. Trace amounts of ethane in the atmosphere, and yes thank god there was an atmosphere, though slight. Gravity was comparable to Earth's Moon, heat and radiation levels were within an acceptable range. They were higher than she thought, certainly not high enough to warrant a danger zone reading, but higher than they were even here in the cargo bay. Was this the extrawave radiation that Straub had been going on about? No; that was undetectable unless calibrated properly for it, and this was not calibrated for that. No, the radiation apparent was low but constant, relaying a state of thermal energy. But if it was that low, and radiating as such, taking into account the ethane and the gravity level...no. No, it couldn't be.
″Straub,″ she said, unable to take her eyes from the readings. If she moved her eyes they might change. ″Straub, look at this. Tell me I'm seeing what I'm seeing.″
For a moment she didn't think he'd get up, but with a final groan he lurched forward and stood hunched over next to her. Then his breath caught. ″My god,″ he whispered. ″Are those correct?″
″I think so,″ she said, now giddy and flighty again and trying to calm herself down, but she couldn't. She just couldn't. ″It looks like the surface of a sub-brown dwarf star. Jesus Christ, this thing leads to the surface of a sub-brown dwarf star!″
″It's a portal?″ He looked up at it with narrowed eyes and slower breathing. ″You think it's a portal?″
″What else could it be?″ She chewed her lower lip, feeling anxious. ″How long has it been like this?″
Straub walked over to the timer system on the battery. ″Thirty-four minutes since the last charge was dispersed. It should have clamped up by now.″
″And yet it's still malleable,″ she said, reaching out towards it. Tybalt walked up to the base of the artifact and held her palm out to the surface of the object. The skin rippled around the nearness of her hand, almost as if in anticipation. As if it were welcoming her. And why wouldn't it? If it really was a portal, if they'd activated it and it was just on now, why wouldn't it perform the function of allowing material through as it was designed to do?
″What are you doing?″ Straub's voice wavered. Good. If he didn't want to come near it then that meant more scientific discovery for her.
″This is incredible,″ she replied, marveling. ″I'm going to cross the threshold.″
″Jesus, no!″ Straub shouted. He was still standing over by the battery, unwilling or unable to come forward. Did it matter? ″Doctor, please! We don't know anything about this, where it goes, what's on the other side – ″
″A sub-brown dwarf star, with a fair atmosphere and thermal radiation levels well within HES tolerance. These things go into outer space, you know.″ She kept staring at the surface, wanting to put her hand through, to touch it and feel it. Would it be like jelly? Like foam? Or would it be more liquidous, oily?
″Doctor Tybalt.″ His voice held a little more resolve than it had previously.
She turned to face him. ″Yes?″
He was pale, sweating, even on the helmet display it was obvious, but he stood straight, his eyes were focused with clarity, and he said, ″Consider what you're walking into. Consider the fact that the artifact is reacting to temperatures and radiation comparable to the Sun. Deep in the Sun. Assuming that this is a portal, we have to consider that whatever designed this for transport was evolved enough to withstand the thermal radiation of almost six thousand Kelvin unprotected. When we pulled the artifact in, there was over two thousand Kelvin seeping in through your suit and you almost died.″
″No, I almost died because the scrubbers threw me back the wrong way too quickly and my body went into shock. What happened – ″
″We don't have any scientific measures for this kind of situation. This isn't fucking Lewis and Clark trekking across the Americas, this is an alien fucking artifact that goes god knows where, despite the readings of the atmospheric sounder! It might not be a sub-brown dwarf, it might be an asteroid free-floating in space or the interior of a subterranean cavern. And whatever built this thing and made those markings might be on the other side waiting.″ He held out his palms. ″I have to advise that we take extreme cautionary measures from this point forward regarding the void, especially if it truly is a portal. Maybe it's just bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. Who knows? But Doctor, please. Let's take the time to examine it properly.″
Tybalt turned back to look at the artifact. The void called, but Straub was probably right. She was so desperate for the discovery, for the data, to just have it before the artifact was to be taken away that maybe she was jumping forward too quickly. Maybe what needed to happen was a closer examination of the data from the sounder. Reel it back in, make sure that it was sending and receiving properly. Who knew what really was on the other side?
She considered all this.
Fuck it.
She stepped forward and walked into the void.
***
The first call had been from Mac, about the engines. As if things couldn't possibly get any worse considering the state of the Icarus. Orbital decay in less than an hour. Markov felt himself beginning to panic at that thought alone, because under normal circumstances he would just pull out right now and order everyone to escape boats and evacuation pods. But this was not normal, this was the orbit of the goddamn Sun, and anything jettisoned would disintegrate within five minutes. Not nearly long enough to get anywhere worth a damn. But Mac had a plan, he hadn't told anyone except select staff, and there was a slim margin that they would make it out in one piece. That was all he could hope for right now. Markov agreed, made his way to the bridge, and ordered that maneuvering thrust be fired from the ventral section at high intensity every thirty minutes per engineering's suggestion. They didn't ask questions on the bridge but Markov knew that they knew something bad was in the air. He only hoped that he could keep everyone calm when the time came.
He'd been thinking about Rene – dammit, Doctor Fleur, keep it professional – when the second call, from Laguardia, came through. This was almost more upsetting than Mac's, because she sounded worn, taut, almost frightened. Anything that could frighten Laguardia frightened Markov to the core, because she was tougher than half of the ship combined (and a damn good officer despite what anyone said behind her back) and for her to reach the apex of her stress levels told the captain that this situation was, finally, about to spiral out of control. She was talking about extrawaves, effects on the crew, her experience on the rec deck. Markov had heard her voice from the moment she'd begun talking and had excused himself to the lift, en route to the medical deck where Fleur's office would be. Once Laguardia had finished, he was glad he'd made that choice; had anyone on the bridge heard how torrid she really was they might have lost it right then and there. Everyone knew that Laguardia exuded the emotion of a stone, but hearing her as she'd been was shaking to say the least. But he agreed with her, kept himself calm, and decided that they would have to jettison the artifact right away, buoy or no buoy.
And then the third call. Straub's call.
And the situation became exponentially more complicated.
Markov got on the horn with Laguardia and Commander Collins in that order, asking them to meet him in the cargo bay armed and wearing HESs. Neither of them liked the sound of that, Collins less so, but Markov wasn't in the position to fuck around. They were going to have to act quickly and decisively. For a moment he also considered calling up Mac, but the chief engineer needed to be where he was. Who else was there to call? If only Udeh wasn't out of commission. Markov sighed over this; he really could use his friend to help him now. Markov felt guilty over his resentment towards Udeh earlier, because the Prometheus captain's assistance would be an incredible boon now. There were too many variables, too many things out of control and outside the equation that Markov had to go with what he had. Laguardia and Collins. He did call the ship's science team, chiefly doctors Decker and Wilcox, to meet him in the cargo bay. He would need some expertise beyond Straub's.
Straub was the only one in the cargo bay when Markov arrived, but the doors had no time to shut before Laguardia entered. She began asking questions immediately, but Markov said to wait for Collins and the scientists. Five minutes later they were all gathered, Collins and Laguardia suited up except for their helmets, pulse rifles slug over their shoulders. Laguardia's rifle had a grenade launcher attachment below the barrel; he hoped it was merely for show. Markov asked Straub to show Decker and Wilcox to direct the Icarus scientists to work the equipment, and then he turned to his officers.
″Doctor Tybalt decided to go inside that thing,″ he said, and he jerked his thumb at the artifact, which glimmered and reflected light in lazy liquid patterns as it rippled and pulsed. He didn't want to look at it, but it was hypnotic almost. Relaxing. Like staring at it would calm him down to his center and he would find his answers in the coded response of the surface movements. That felt like a good idea and a very, very bad idea all at the same time. He kept his back to it as he spoke, looking at Laguardia. ″We can't jettison it while she's in there, so I'm sending you both in to bring her back out. Willing or unwilling.″
″That's the point of the weapons,″ Laguardia mused.
″Correct. Collins? Thoughts?″
″Sir. With all due respect?″ Collins looked over at the artifact and then back at Markov. ″Fuck this. We don't know anything about that thing, what it does, what's inside, and the doctor knew that and took her chance and I say we cut our losses. Maybe she's dead, maybe not, but sending two armed officers in to get her after, what, how long?″
″Fifteen minutes now.″
″Fifteen minutes. Give her another fifteen minutes to get her ass out here on her own and then maybe, but sir, what we're dealing with – ″
″Is something that I don't want to deal with any longer,″ Markov said. ″I knew I should have scrubbed this mission from the beginning, but I didn't, and I know the ship is paying for that mistake. We need to get this damn thing off of the Icarus before anything worse happens. I'm not going to shoot it off the ship while a crewmember is in there. According to Straub, the atmospheric readings show that wherever this thing goes has an atmosphere and low gravity and should be safe for HES usage. If you don't find Doctor Tybalt in twenty minutes, we can consider her a loss and you get your asses back here, both of you.″
″I don't understand, sir,″ Collins said. ″Why is this so damn imperative? Why the hell now, after everything else?″
″Because,″ Markov replied, keeping his voice low, ″the chief engineer called me up and told me we're losing orbital thrust. We're going down into the Sun in a little under five hours. If this thing is really affecting us the way that Straub and now Laguardia believe, we need to get rid of it soon and clear our minds and get those engines back up and running.″
Collins said nothing. She paled, but otherwise held no reaction. She was a good officer, one that Markov wouldn't mind keeping on this ship, but he had a feeling that once – if – they got back to Outpost 12 she'd be getting off Icarus and back to her old position without an ounce of remorse or regret for doing so.
″Yes, sir,″ she said. She let loose a quick breath and looked at Laguardia. ″Let's go get this dumb bitch.″
″Hoo-ah,″ the sergeant replied. They both put on their helmets and proceeded towards the artifact.
″One moment,″ Markov said. Then he turned to Straub. ″Doctor! How's your charge?″
There was a pause as Straub looked at his wrist pad, and then, ″I'm a little over half a charge Capt
ain, another hour and a half of operational status before I need a top up.″
″Good.″ He nodded at Laguardia and Collins. ″You're going in with them to get Doctor Tybalt.″
Straub froze in his tracks and the look on his face caught in the helmet display was almost comical with fear. ″What?″
″I said – ″
″No.″
Markov raised an eyebrow. ″Straub. You're going in there. I'm not sending two of my crew into a potentially hostile environment without some knowledgeability of what they're going into.″
″No.″ Straub was firm.
Markov stepped closer to the man. Straub was reasonable, smart, and far more scared of this thing than anyone else in the room, and that made Markov nervous. It also made Straub the perfect candidate for going inside. He would know when to escape. ″Doctor,″ Markov spoke slowly, ″I need you to go in with my officers. I need your expertise, and your working knowledge of Doctor Tybalt. This isn't a request. This is an order.″
Straub closed his eyes and breathed in deep. ″Sir, what do you see when you look at the artifact?″
″I'm sorry?″
″What do you see?″
At first, he didn't want to look. Then Markov turned his gaze to the left, watched the multiple riploids caressing and colliding against each other, kissing, moving, crossing the boundaries of each other before continuing on over the length of the surface. The normally harsh lighting of the cargo bay was a fantastical reflection, refracting on the obsidian surface, prism patterns emerging and white sparklepoints laughing back. It was alluring. It was dangerous. He thought of how he felt for Rene – Fleur, think of her as Fleur, dammit – and he saw the artifact, and wondered if he was seeing how he felt and wondered further if he really felt that way at all. He sunk deep down, his heart ached, and he wanted to tear up. Instead, he turned back to Straub and said, ″I see something beautiful. It isn't, is it?″