The Comet's Curse

by Dom Testa

  Early Airboarding rooms did not have elaborate rail systems underneath. They generally started with loops, figure eights and a long straightaway. In recent years, however, floor design had created a frenzied mesh of zigzag patterns, sharp turns and even a few ramps for jumping. Since all of the charged rails were out of sight, riders had to become especially sensitive to the differences between magnetic attraction and diminishing charge. One false move meant a spill. The better riders were able to increase their speed, but also risked a more serious tumble when they zoomed out over an uncharged section of floor.

  “All right, I understand the concept,” Dr. Zimmer had said to Gap. “And it helps our crew how?”

  “Airboarding is more than just a game,” Gap said. “It takes a razor-sharp mind, and total concentration every second. As soon as you relax you’re down. Painfully. So it will keep our crew mentally sharp for this voyage. Remember, the computer changes the grid for every single ride, so no two trips around the room are the same. You’ve gotta be able to think fast, or you’re a goner.”

  Dr. Zimmer was not fully convinced. It wasn’t until a meeting with Dr. Bauer and Dr. Armistead that evening that he finally consented.

  “Listen, he’s right about the mental aspect,” Dr. Armistead had said. “But I think it’s more than that. This sport teaches a lot about risk and reward. The riskier players pick up a ton of self-confidence.”

  “And broken bones?” Zimmer said sarcastically.

  “Well, the rooms are padded pretty well. And they all wear pads and helmets. Or at least they’re supposed to. But I’m talking about their spirit. We do want an overachieving bunch on this ship, don’t we?”

  “Hmm,” Zimmer had muttered. “Have either of you tried this crazy game?”

  “My son loved it,” Bauer said sadly. “I can’t tell you how many hours he used to spend at the rec center by our house.”

  The following day Dr. Zimmer had met with the crew members to explain his decision.

  “I want you to realize that in order to build an Airboard … place … on this ship, something else will have to go. So we’re going to look at redesigning part of the Storage Section and leaving off some of the …”

  He didn’t get to finish the sentence. The crew had cheered so loudly that he had to chuckle, shake his head and walk back to his office, leaving them to celebrate. “Oh well,” he muttered to himself as he walked with his hands in his pockets, “as long as it keeps them sharp on the voyage they can probably do without a few extra storage rooms.”

  Gap hustled into Galahad’s Airboarding room and immediately saw Rico Manzelli, one of the best Boarders on the ship, and easily the crew’s craziest daredevil. Rico was flying across the track, his arms held low and slightly out from his sides as he sensed the magnetic power coursing through the rails under the floor. Approaching one of the banks in the far corner of the room, he suddenly shifted his weight and leaned into a hard right-hand turn. For a moment he almost toppled, then righted himself and turned on the speed down a back straightaway.

  Gap smiled and waved as Rico flashed by him, and the wild Italian quickly returned the wave. Gap took a seat on one of the bleachers and watched intently. It didn’t do any good to try to learn where the track was energized, because it would be a completely different course for the next run. Instead he kept his eyes on Rico’s style, the way he crouched forward, then casually shifted his weight back during a fast stretch. Gap used more of his arms than Rico, which some people thought was bad form. All Gap knew was that he was just about faster than anyone, with the possible exception of the guy currently racing around the room.

  As he banked out of another turn Rico suddenly pinwheeled his arms and leapt into the air. He had obviously misjudged the magnetic pull and had veered off course. Tucking himself into a ball, he hit the padded floors and rolled several feet. The Airboard flipped once, twice, and then came to a stop. Gap stood up and gave Rico a sarcastic round of applause.

  “I’d give you a nine point five for the form, but only a seven for the dismount,” he yelled with a laugh.

  “Oh, man,” Rico said, huffing as he jogged over to the bleachers. “That’s the first time it’s done such an abrupt cut out of a banked turn. I guess Zoomer has decided we’re getting a little too comfortable out there,” he said, referring to the pet name the Boarders had given the computer that controlled the underground course.

  “Hurt?” Gap said as he strapped on his shiny silver helmet.

  “Naw,” Rico said, although Gap knew that it was taking all of his willpower to keep from rubbing where he’d landed on his knee.

  “Mind if I try your board?” Gap said.

  Rico handed over the bright red board with blue stripes around the edges. “Be my guest. Just bring it back in one piece, okay?”

  Gap grinned and jogged over to the starting blocks. He positioned the board over the spot where the magnetic power began and felt the board push up onto the air. Climbing aboard using the plastic handles on the wall for balance, he set his feet, pulled his helmet down tight, then pushed off across the floor.

  At first he kept the speed fairly low, adjusting to the feel of Rico’s souped-up board. It was obviously a fast, sleek model, and Gap knew that it could cost him a few bruises of his own if he let himself get out of control. He felt the magnetic power ebb on the left side, so he shifted to the right until he felt the strong upward push from below. Increasing the speed a little, he approached a banked turn and leaned back slightly. Using a combination of feel and instinct, he glided out of the turn and maneuvered through a series of twists and turns before coming to a stop in front of the bleachers and jumping off the board.

  “C’mon, man, turn it up,” Rico said. “My poor old mama could ride faster than that.”

  “Gimme time to get used to it,” Gap said. “This thing is like a racehorse that wants to run.”

  He climbed back aboard and pushed off. This time he let his speed creep up a little, and before he knew it he was sailing along at an incredible clip. Passing the bleachers, he could hear the hoots and hollers of a few more hardy souls who had ventured in for an afternoon run. The cheers injected him with a little too much bravado, and the next thing he knew he was flying off the board, smacking head-on with one of the padded walls. Behind him came roars of laughter as the assembled group stood and dished out the same verbal abuse he had ladled onto Rico.

  Grinning, he walked back and handed the board to Rico. Unlike that daredevil, however, Gap’s pride did not prevent him from rubbing his shoulder where it had collided with the wall.

  “I’ll feel that for a couple of days,” he said, grimacing. “But I love the board, man. Give me another shot next time?”

  “Sure,” Rico said, “if you think you can handle it.”

  Gap slapped him on the arm and, with a laugh, strolled out of the room and down towards the lift, still rubbing his shoulder. Good thing Tree hadn’t been there, he thought, then immediately caught himself and shook his head. Why did it always come back to her? It seemed he couldn’t go an hour without somehow thinking about her.

  It was even starting to affect his decisions about his work on the Council. He felt it important to sit down and visit with Triana about the events that had befallen them after launch, but should he? If Channy had already picked up on his feelings, maybe Tree had also. He imagined himself walking around with a flashing neon sign on his forehead that blinked “I Love Tree.” He’d seen other guys his age make fools of themselves, and he wasn’t about to do the same. This is stupid, he told himself.

  Since it was dinnertime and the majority of the crew was three levels above in the Dining Hall, it was quiet throughout this section as Gap made his way toward the lift that would take him up to his room to change. He rubbed a hand through his dark spiked hair, then again massaged the shoulder that had absorbed the impact with the wall. He felt the bulk and tone of his muscle, and couldn’t help wondering if Triana liked what she saw. He wasn’t as tall as he would ha
ve liked, but still was athletically built. She would … He shook his head, suddenly disgusted with himself for this momentary surge of vanity. What difference did it make what Triana thought of him? He had work to do. There was no time to worry about romance, especially now. He had five years or more to worry about that, and Tree wasn’t going anywhere.

  Ha! Wasn’t going anywhere! He couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Where could a girl hide from him on a ship the size of an average shopping mall back home? “Idiot,” he murmured to himself. “Get your head on straight.”

  He rounded a corner and found Channy Oakland waiting at the lift. Oh great, he thought. More “Romeo” talk was sure to follow.

  “Hey there, Casanova,” Channy said. Gap rolled his eyes. Romeo, Casanova, whatever. It was too bad he liked Channy so much; it made it that much harder to hate her. Her lean, trim figure looked chiseled in her bright yellow workout clothes. The dark chocolate tone of her skin glistened, highlighting the muscular cut of her arms and legs.

  “Getting in a little late afternoon workout, I see,” he said, changing the subject. That was probably the best way to handle her teasing, he figured. Get her to talk about her passion: exercise. Besides, if he kept reacting every time she needled him, she would never stop.

  “Dance class, actually,” she said. “Something you should consider, with your gymnastic background.” She noticed the sweat still dripping from his hairline. “And you’ve obviously been Boarding. Don’t get so caught up in that game that you forget about your workouts in the gym. I sent an e-mail to everyone last night reminding them of what Dr. Zimmer told us. ‘Never stop exercising your body or your mind. You’ll need both in perfect shape when you arrive.’ Airboarding might work up a little bit of a sweat, but nothing compared to what I’ll put you through.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Gap said. “I’ll be there first thing in the morning, ready to let you torture me for an hour.”

  The lift arrived and they stepped inside. The lift system operated only between sections of the ship. The crew members were expected to walk to every destination within the sections themselves. No laziness allowed.

  “Oh, and speaking of e-mail,” Gap said when the lift door had closed. “Did you see that the Council meeting was rescheduled for eleven o’clock tomorrow morning?”

  “Bon told me before I had a chance to see it.” She pushed the button for the crew quarters. “Or, as he said, ‘Her majesty has requested our presence.’ You know, I like Bon sometimes, but why does he have this attitude about Tree? It’s very … I don’t know, very …”

  “Childish,” Gap filled in the blank, wiping at the sweat on his brow. “I thought he might be jealous of her. Maybe he wanted to be in charge. But after a while I noticed that he has a power problem with everyone. He didn’t even get along too well with Dr. Zimmer, remember?”

  “You know what he told me one day, about a month before launch?” Channy lowered her voice mysteriously. Gap smiled inwardly. Channy loved to gossip. “He said some of the scientists back in Sweden thought Dr. Zimmer was the wrong man to put this mission together. They thought he was too emotionally involved with the crew. Bon said Dr. Zimmer made too many decisions with his heart and not his brain.”

  “What would Bon know about a heart?” Gap laughed. “Growing up around the Arctic Circle put ice water in his veins.” They were laughing together when the lift door opened. Then, they froze.

  The wall across from the lift opening had been vandalized with a large red marker. The words screamed out at Gap and Channy, and shock gripped them:

  THIS IS A DEATH SHIP!

  14

  Dr. Wallace Zimmer would have acknowledged that he was, indeed, emotionally involved with the Galahad project. In fact, the truth was he loved the kids who would be placed on humanity’s lifeboat. No one in history had carried so much responsibility, the task of preserving the human race … and they were teenagers! As he told Roy Orzini and Dr. Bauer late one evening, “It’s tough enough being a young adult. Think of the pressure as you mature, not only from your peers, but from yourself. And we’re asking these kids to save our species? It’s staggering.”

  He almost felt as if he had adopted the 251 colonists. He tried to spend time with each of them, but he had so many duties to attend to that it became necessary to concentrate on the key players in the mission: the Council. And, most important, the one crew member who would be in charge at launch. He or she would have to be an amazing person, with not only intelligence, but also wisdom. Dr. Zimmer understood the difference between the two.

  Months had been spent analyzing the files of possible candidates. So many had the qualities he was looking for: honesty, courageousness and ability to lead. He had known for a long time that Triana Martell might get the nod, but the final decision was among her, Gap Lee, and a girl from India named Sela. Then, with the launch only five months away, Dr. Zimmer was shocked by a visit from a tearful Sela.

  “I’m withdrawing from Galahad,” she told him. “I’ve decided to go home to be with my family.”

  He had been too stunned at first to respond, but spent the next hour quietly discussing the matter with her. Had her family pressured her into the decision? Was it for religious purposes? Was she having a problem with the other crew members? Was she simply afraid of the voyage?

  Sela shook her head softly in reply to each question. No, she told him, she had decided that she wanted to spend her family’s last days with them, not leaving them behind to embark on a crusade that had only a slight chance of succeeding. Her family ties were strong, and she had made the decision, not them. And she would not be talked out of it.

  Dr. Zimmer was saddened, but respectful of her wishes. He was with her to say good-bye as she boarded the flight back home. He then returned to Galahad’s command center, summoned the remaining colonists and announced his decision: Triana Martell would lead the expedition at launch. No changes would be made for the first three years of the mission. After that, the crew members could elect whomever they saw fit to command the next three-year step.

  The crew was saddened to hear of Sela’s decision, but not surprised at Triana’s selection as their leader. Tree, as Roy Orzini had begun calling her, was accepted by them, admired as much as anyone else among their elite group. But she hadn’t made too many close friends. She was a loner, which was okay with Dr. Zimmer. He knew that command was usually a lonely perch. As long as she was able to cooperate with the other Council members and communicate effectively with the crew, she was a perfect choice.

  Dr. Zimmer’s long, private discussions with Tree told him a lot about the girl. Born in Indiana, her parents soon divorced and she moved at age two with her father to Colorado. He worked very hard at his job as a computer engineer, but managed to spend a lot of time with his daughter. He loved reading to her, and soon saw that spawn a love of books in her. By her seventh birthday she had mastered the connection into the vast computer library banks and was reading everything she could find. She was also a natural athlete, and the father and daughter duo spent endless weekend hours at the park, tossing or kicking around a ball, climbing on the playground equipment or just simply wrestling in the grass. In time, Triana had grown tall and slender, and made her father proud by excelling in the classroom and on the sports fields.

  Her relationship with her mother was another story. An executive with a major corporation in Indiana, and a big shot in her preferred political party, Triana’s mother made it clear she had no time to spend with her daughter. Work came first, politics second and nothing third. Tree had flown back to spend holidays with her mother in the first few years, but eventually she just quit going. If her mother noticed, she never acted as if she cared. A single phone call once a month was all that she managed to fit into her schedule. In Triana’s mind, her mother was nothing more than a distant relative, and the little girl spent her days happy and carefree in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains.

  Until that spring day when Triana’s father began to show
symptoms of Comet Bhaktul’s curse. For some people the disease progressed at a slow, agonizing pace; others, like Tree’s father, deteriorated quickly. The microscopic particles attacked his lungs and nervous system, and in a matter of days he was taken away from his daughter, locked up within a medical research lab for tests, and studied around the clock. Triana was able to visit him twice a week, but wasn’t allowed to enter the room where he remained hooked up to various machines. So little was known about the epidemic, and doctors were unwilling to take a chance with personal contact. Triana and her father had to speak using an intercom, watching each other’s tears through a window that separated them.

  Four weeks after he was admitted to the lab, all visits were terminated. Triana was forbidden from seeing her dad, and was told that he was unable to talk on the phone. He had now been taken from her completely, and she knew it meant the worst. Her mother called and offered to fly her back to Indiana, although the invitation sounded hollow to the fourteen-year-old girl. When she declined, and instead insisted on staying in Colorado with her dad’s best friend and his family, it almost sounded as if her mother was relieved.

  The letter from Dr. Zimmer was sent to Triana’s school principal. Ms. Velasquez knew what was going on with Triana’s father, and had excused her prize student from classes for a while. Falling behind would not be a problem for the incredibly gifted young woman; on the contrary, she could miss a month or more and most likely still be at the top of her class. Elsie Velasquez wished she had a dozen students like Triana Martell.