The Comet's Curse

by Dom Testa

  Zimmer laughed. “I like your attitude, Sharee.”

  “Well, it’s not like I’m out dancing every night. In fact, I haven’t left the house in the last week except to go to the store. Never thought I’d be the type to turn into a hermit, but … but I can’t really bring myself to socialize much anymore.”

  “I understand,” Zimmer said. In his own mind he wondered if he would venture out very much in the coming weeks, and quickly decided that the answer was no. He had no friends around to speak of. And besides, he didn’t feel very sociable himself. What was left of his enthusiasm had launched inside a giant spacecraft and was headed towards a distant star. No, he would probably become just like Sharee, he thought.

  “I understand that you’ll be writing a book on Galahad,” she said. “I think that’s a terrific idea. Fenton told me as much as he could, but I’d very much like to see it all through your eyes.”

  “Well,” he said, a touch of sadness entering his voice. “I meant to start it a long time ago, but there just wasn’t any time before the launch. Maybe now that I’m home …” His voice trailed off.

  “I’m sorry,” Sharee said suddenly. “Of course, you need some time to rest and … and … and get your strength back.”

  Dr. Zimmer rubbed his fingers on the kitchen table, feeling a coughing spasm that was beginning to well up. He didn’t want Sharee to see that, so he stayed silent for a moment, trying to suppress the attack. She obviously took that to mean that she had said something wrong.

  “Listen, Wallace, let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. I know I’m clear across the country, but if there’s anything I can send to you, or …” An idea suddenly occurred to her. “Or maybe you’d like to fly out and stay with us for a little while. We could all go out and do something together.”

  “That would be very nice,” he said. “Although I’m sure Fenton has seen enough of me over the last two years. He’d probably prefer to spend some quiet time with you, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe,” she said, with her own sad inflection now filtering through her voice. “But he hasn’t been in a hurry to get back yet.”

  Zimmer’s fingers stopped sliding along the tabletop, and he stared into the vidscreen. “What do you mean?”

  Sharee shrugged. “I mean he hasn’t made it home yet.”

  “What? He left the station weeks ago.”

  “I know. He called me the night before he left, and told me that he felt terrible and was coming home. But he said that he wanted to stop off at my parents’ cabin to see if he could convince Marshall to come home.”

  Dr. Zimmer remembered the many conversations he’d had with Dr. Bauer regarding Bauer’s reclusive son. He recalled the pain that was evident each time the topic came up, and the way Bauer had seemed to envy Zimmer’s closeness with the crew of Galahad, perhaps wishing for that same relationship with his own son. Dr. Zimmer had always been at a loss for words at those times, but on one occasion had asked if a reconciliation was possible. Dr. Bauer had shook his head slowly, but had not answered.

  Zimmer stared intently into the vidscreen. “And you haven’t heard from him since he went to Tahoe?”

  “That’s just it,” Sharee said. “Marshall’s here. He’s been here for five days now. And he says Fenton never called or showed up there.”

  “And you haven’t heard anything from him?”

  “Nothing. I’ve been so anxious for him to get home. Marshall’s almost like a new … well, a new man. He’s wanting to reconnect with his father. I think he knows that there’s not a lot of time left, you know?” Her weak smile dissipated, leaving almost a grimace on her face.

  Zimmer didn’t respond.

  “Anyway,” Sharee said, “when your e-mail for Fenton came in here a couple of days ago I was a little surprised. It sounded like you thought he was here, and I was kind of hoping that he was with you. So I decided to call.”

  “I’m sorry,” Zimmer said. “I … I thought he was home. He never said anything to me about going to find Marshall. All he told me on the station was that he was going home.” He paused briefly, thinking. “I’ll make a few calls,” he finally told Sharee.

  “I appreciate that, Wallace,” she said. “I’ll check back with you tonight. Maybe we can figure out where he is. I’m sure there’s a simple answer.”

  Dr. Zimmer wasn’t so sure, but smiled at Sharee Bauer and wished her well before breaking the connection. He sat still for a while, his mind replaying the conversation. So Fenton had told him that he was leaving the space station and going home. He told his wife that he was stopping in Tahoe to meet with their son, to try to patch up things. Yet he had never showed up at either location. Nor had Sharee or Zimmer been contacted regarding any type of accident or emergency.

  The scientist was missing.

  35

  Sudden fear can trigger chaos in the human body. A quick, unexpected jolt of fear can instantly double or triple the heart rate. Muscles can immediately tighten, bringing on a feeling of paralysis. Breathing becomes rapid and choppy, palms become sweaty and all of the body’s senses shoot into overdrive. The brain scrambles for information, looking for anything to help it recognize the threat and develop a reliable solution to that threat. The survival instinct sends adrenaline rushing through the body, preparing every part for the action needed to protect itself. Yet, ironically, it can also cloud the judgment of the brain, inducing an action that might not be appropriate for the situation or could even make matters worse.

  Triana Martell was experiencing all of the symptoms of sudden, crushing fear. The unexpected voice, and the evil laugh that followed it, caused her to immediately freeze, down on one knee, one hand resting on the floor, the other just inside the open panel on the wall. Sweat broke out on her forehead and her palms; her breath came in quick gasps. Her body had tensed, her brain sending out the genetically programmed “fight or flight” response. Triana’s initial reaction was to jump up and run. But a split second before getting to her feet, her training kicked in.

  Dr. Armistead had spent almost a full week working with the crew of Galahad on one particular emotion: fear. She hadn’t pulled any punches, either. “There will be times that the slow buildup of fear will weigh upon you,” she had told them. “The anxiety you’ll feel is only natural; you’re all taking on a mission that nobody would have even imagined three years ago. That type of fear can wear you down, exhaust you. We’ll cover the types of exercises and meditations that can relieve the stress.

  “We’ll also teach you to deal with sudden, unexpected emergencies that can provoke a sensation of fear that will almost paralyze your body. You have to be ready to deal with these emergencies without panicking. Nothing is foolproof; some of you will be able to adapt better than others. But all of you will have a fighting chance with the right preparation.”

  Triana had found that particular stage of their training fascinating. They learned about the amygdala and its effects within the brain. They practiced techniques to slow the body’s breathing, which controlled the heart rate, which in turn allowed the brain to better process the rapid influx of data. In short, they learned to overcome the paralysis of abrupt fear. Dr. Armistead had stressed to Dr. Zimmer that it could very well be the training that ultimately would save their lives.

  Triana summoned the knowledge from that training as her heart and mind threatened to race out of control. She consciously exhaled slowly, to a count of three, before drawing another breath and letting it out again to another count of three. She felt her heartbeat gradually calm. Taking one more deep breath, she pushed herself back up onto her feet, and turned. In the dim twilight of the corridor she came face-to-face with the intruder.

  She was sure that the shock of recognition and surprise was plainly visible on her face, which caused the man to laugh again. The laughter, although quiet, seemed to reverberate through her brain. This was madness.

  “Dr. Bauer,” was all she could manage to say.

  “Triana,”
he said, drawing out each syllable of her name. “Surprise, surprise, surprise, eh?”

  She didn’t answer. Her mind was trying to make sense of what she was seeing, and it wasn’t making much progress. Dr. Bauer’s usually smooth face was covered with a ragged beard, and his eyes, normally such a warm brown, seemed darker now and tinged with red. His hair was matted and greasy, his clothes filthy and in disarray. From what she could gather in the dim light, the face underneath the beard looked thin and sunken.

  Triana’s gaze drifted down to Dr. Bauer’s left hand, which clutched a long, pointed object. It took her a second to recognize it as the special tool needed to open the computer access panel. She had one stashed in her room; it made sense that Dr. Bauer would have had one as well.

  But right now he brandished it more like a weapon than a tool. Triana eyed the sharp steel point with the special hatch marks, designed to fit into the grooves of the panel almost like an old-fashioned screwdriver. Although it wasn’t designed to inflict injury on a person, she knew that it was more than capable of tearing flesh. She looked back into Bauer’s eyes.

  “I didn’t think you were coming,” he said, the evil grin still beaming. “I almost had to start without you.”

  Triana swallowed, forcing herself to take another deep breath and exhale slowly. “And what are you starting?”

  “The slow death decay of Galahad,” he said, laughing yet again, this time louder and longer than before. Triana knew now why Peter Meyer had freaked out upon hearing that sound. It conjured up every image of terror that she had ever known, blended with something else that made it even more powerful: a feeling of confidence. Dr. Fenton Bauer had not only set out to destroy the ship and all of its crew members, he was also deadly certain that it was going to happen.

  “Tell me why,” she said, shrewdly trying to take a step backwards to open up a bit more space between them. Dr. Bauer would have none of it, and moved to his left just enough to block any escape for Triana. She was cornered. Any jump she made could be cut off in a flash, and the sharp point of the tool would bring her down instantly. One more time she cursed herself for braving this meeting alone.

  “There are about seven billion reasons that I can think of,” Bauer said. “Every man, woman and child that you left behind on Earth. Each person who will have to not only suffer the pain of Bhaktul Disease, but the thought that you get a free pass. A free pass on their credit, too. You see, none of you on this ship stopped to think about that now, did you? That your escape from that disease was actually paid for by the people who will ultimately die from it. What did they get out of it? How do they profit?”

  Triana was listening to him, absorbing his warped logic, and trying desperately to find the words to debate the issue. He apparently had a lot to say about the mission, and any chance to engage him in a discussion would hopefully buy more time for someone to stumble onto them. That wasn’t likely, she was sure, but worth the chance. She knew her words were important. Angering him might only cause him to react quickly and violently; she had to appeal to him intellectually. He was, after all, a scientist, and would likely want to explain his position, almost as if he were proving a theorem. She had to hope that logic could overcome the insanity brought on by Bhaktul.

  “They profit by knowing the human race goes on,” she said, measuring her words carefully and speaking in a soft, slow voice.

  “Ha!” he said with a shout. “You sound like Dr. Zimmer. In fact, that’s almost a direct quote from him. I should know; I heard it hundreds of times over the last two years. I expected more from you, Triana. You’re intelligent. But now you’re coming across as nothing but a trained parrot, mimicking your master. Aren’t you able to think for yourself?” He punctuated his remarks by waving the long metal tool in her face. She didn’t flinch.

  “I’m very capable of thinking for myself,” she said. “I’ve thought a lot about it. And whether I was included or not, I would still have voted for this mission. Mankind has always overcome obstacles, and we won’t just pull the curtain closed on thousands of years of progress because of one fluke astronomical event. Even one hundred years ago we wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it. Today we can, and we choose to preserve the species.”

  “More Zimmer nonsense!” Bauer shouted. “You’ve been brainwashed, girl, that’s all. Tell me why you should go? What makes you special?”

  This gave Triana pause. There was something underneath his ranting, something that was registering at the outskirts of her mind. Something that told her that Dr. Bauer wasn’t necessarily against the mission itself, but rather … what? When he spoke again, she understood completely.

  “Why should you go, or Gap, or Lita, or any of those other kids? What about all the other kids who deserved a chance to go? What about the kids who were just as smart as you, maybe smarter, who didn’t get the chance? Just because some kids were a little older …” His voice broke for an instant, a sob that tried to well up but was suppressed. His maniacal waving of the weapon stilled, and he grew quiet.

  Triana took a chance. “You’re talking about your son, aren’t you?”

  Dr. Bauer fixed his gaze on her, bloodshot eyes that crept from deep within his sunken face, eyes that bored through her, mixed with hate and madness. She had hit the mark, and knew it instantly.

  “My son is better than you or anyone on this ship,” he said barely above a whisper. “He’s smarter than you, braver than you, stronger than you. He should be here, not back on Earth awaiting a death sentence.”

  Now Triana had to tread lightly. “How old is your son?” she said, although she knew the answer.

  “Dr. Zimmer would tell you that it doesn’t matter. He’s too old, he would say. But he’s not. He hasn’t shown one sign of Bhaktul. Not one sign. He would have called and told me, I know. But I haven’t heard a word from him. He’s fine, I tell you. There’s nothing that should have kept him from this mission. Nothing.” He paused, then said, “He would have called me. He would have called.”

  Triana could have explained that it simply wasn’t possible for everyone to go. She could have explained that once children reached the age of eighteen their bodies were able to carry the disease, whether they showed symptoms or not. She could have said all of this. But Dr. Bauer knew it. He knew it but was unable to accept it right now. Whether it was the disease working on his mind or overpowering grief or a combination of both, he wasn’t able to admit the truth. Stating the obvious might stall him, but it also might trigger an attack. She instead opted to console him.

  “I think you’re right,” she said. “I’d like to know more about your son. What’s his name?”

  Bauer sighed. “His name is Marshall.”

  “Where does he live?”

  “He … He lives …” Bauer’s eyes had dropped from Triana’s. When he looked up again, lines of sadness were creasing his face. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “None of that matters anymore.”

  Triana realized that time was running out. She tried desperately to think of another line of discussion, but before she could say anything, Bauer took another step forward.

  “Nothing matters anymore,” he said. “I’m going to end this mission now. Tyler wanted me to finish it back at the space station, but it’s better to do it here, now, when there’s no one who can step in and help.”

  Tyler! So Triana was right about one thing. Tyler Scofield might not have been able to sneak aboard Galahad, but he had orchestrated this from the beginning. He had been able to infiltrate Dr. Zimmer’s organization, working Dr. Bauer into a position of trust, and manipulating him for more than two years. That explained a couple of things: The beard, for one, and the coin, Scofield’s symbol of opposition.

  “What are you going to do?” Triana said, attempting to ease down the corridor slowly, inching along to her right.

  “Not much, really. But enough to do the job. We were sure to put most of the control of Galahad into the hands of the computer.” He laughed again, which see
med to drag him out of his funk. “That was my doing, actually. We could have put more control into your hands, but I convinced Dr. Zimmer that you shouldn’t have any more pressure on you than necessary. His soft spot, actually. There wasn’t much convincing to do there.

  “So now I finish disabling your computer, and Galahad will begin to drift out of control, and at the same time grow colder and colder. It won’t be long until this is nothing but a giant lifeless icebox, gliding throughout the stars forever.”

  Triana shuddered. The madman’s vision was entirely within his grasp.

  “And how funny that all it takes is this,” Bauer said, holding up the tool he had used to open the access panel. “And this,” he added. In the fingers of his other hand he held up another coin, identical to the one that Gap had discovered. Dr. Bauer twisted it back and forth, showing both sides to Triana, basking in her wonder.

  “Don’t understand?” he said. “It’s so simple. So simple, in fact, that if Zimmer only knew what was happening it would crush him.”

  Here was the delay that Triana had hoped for. Dr. Bauer was indeed ready to explain his plan for destroying Galahad, and it pleased Triana for two reasons. First, she needed the extra time. Second, she was curious to find out how an outdated coin was the key to the damage.

  Bauer flipped the coin once, twice, then held it up again for her to observe. “I was the one who worked closely with Roy Orzini and Dr. Mynet on the design of your computer. Roy might have been the one who designed the actual brain of the machine, but I was the one who approved the design of the access panel behind you. That’s something that Roy and Mynet couldn’t have cared less about; they were only concerned with the function of the computer. How it fit into this panel was unimportant to them. But it was vital to Tyler and me.

  “All it took was one set of switches. I laid out the panel so that these particular switches would sit right next to each other. Nobody bothered to notice that these two switches, should they come into contact with each other, would slowly feed enough electromagnetic juice through each other to eventually fry the entire system. Since they were welded down inside the panel, nobody ever worried about them coming into contact. But the design was perfect. All it left was a gap about the size of … well, the size of this,” Bauer said, displaying the coin once again. “This slides neatly into place, and within minutes your computer power will drain away to nothing. Tyler was good enough to furnish me with the metals information, and together we have designed a series of switches that would not do well at all with a bridge made from copper, nickel and manganese. And, what do you know? Those are precisely the ingredients in our friend here.” The coin gleamed, even in the dim light.