The Cassini Code

by Dom Testa

  “Let me guess,” Triana said. “We’ve run smack dab into a closet.”

  “Bingo.”

  “And what makes it even worse,” Gap added, “are the odds.”

  “Do I want to even hear this?” Triana said.

  “Sure, if only to appreciate how remarkable it all is. These jam-packed stretches only occur in about thirty-five percent of the Kuiper Belt. We had only a one in three chance of stumbling into this, yet we did.”

  Triana found herself chuckling, not because there was anything really funny about it all. It just seemed that fate was determined to throw every possible challenge their way. It was never going to be smooth sailing, it seemed.

  “Okay,” she finally said. “And you wanted to tell me this privately because…”

  Gap shifted in his chair and set down his cup of water. He stared across the conference table into Triana’s eyes.

  “Because Roc has also figured what our chances are of making it through the minefield without a really big bang.”

  Triana sighed again. “Go right ahead. Make my day complete.” The computer’s voice was loud and clear. “Ooh, I hope you like a good challenge, because I figure about one in twelve that we make it through unscathed. Actually, more like one in thirteen, but we can fudge it down just a touch.”

  One in twelve. Triana felt the weight of the mission collapse onto her shoulders once again. The figures meant that for every twelve times they took this path through the Kuiper Belt, eleven of those times the ship would be destroyed, without warning.

  She bit her lip and, without thinking, reached across and picked up Gap’s water cup. She took a long drink, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and pushed a stray hair out of her face. Gap remained silent while she processed the information.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’m making an executive decision here. I would prefer that none of what we’ve discussed leave this room. Under normal circumstances I would probably inform the crew, but things are far from normal right now. I hate to have somebody like Merit Simms influence my leadership, but during a time of external crisis the last thing we need is more internal strife. He’s preaching a message of doom and destruction, and this will only fan his flames a little bit more.”

  “I agree with that,” Gap said. “Anyway, he’s all about turning the ship around, and to be honest that’s exactly what we don’t want to be doing in a minefield. He wouldn’t understand that, of course, because it’s contrary to what he wants. But I think Roc would agree that a quick straight line is the best strategy for avoiding bumping into something.”

  “Probably,” Roc said. “Although just being inside this portion of the Belt is like being tossed around inside a bag full of marbles. Eventually something is likely to take the paint off.”

  “Then we understand each other,” Triana said. “No sense causing a panic. Mum’s the word.”

  She looked back at Gap again and debated whether to say what was on her mind. She didn’t want to sound petty or jealous. Finally, with a shrug she decided that it was too important to ignore. “Don’t even tell Hannah, right?”

  Rather than seem off ended, Gap replied with his own shrug. “Listen, chances are, with her passion for astronomy and numbers, she’ll have it figured out on her own any day now. But, yeah, I’ll keep quiet.” He paused, then added, “And don’t worry about the fuss that Merit Simms is making. There are too many dedicated people on this ship for him to have much of an impact.”

  Triana nodded, yet didn’t possess the same confidence. Something told her that things were going to get complicated.

  Soon.

  8

  The workout had been over for almost ten minutes, but the scowl on Channy’s face had not diminished much. She watched, sweat dripping down the side of her face, as the last of the morning group finished putting their mats away and gathering their personal belongings. Channy was unquestionably the most popular crew member on board, but when she was in this mood—the angry drill sergeant mood—few people would make eye contact with her, let alone stop by for a chat.

  Kylie Rickman was an exception. She was Channy’s roommate, and she knew that one of her most important roles was as a sounding board when the petite Brit was fired up. Kylie drained a cup of water, wiped her forehead with a towel, and leaned back against a cabinet.

  “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you so irritated.”

  Channy continued to glare. “It’s my job to make sure this crew doesn’t get fat and lazy during the trip. If they keep this nonsense up, by the time we reach Eos they won’t be able to run fifty feet without stopping to rest.” She shook her head. “Pitiful.”

  Kylie chuckled. “Exaggerating a little bit, aren’t we?”

  “Not much. You were part of the group this morning. Did you see what the back row was doing? Having a little social outing.”

  “Hmph,” Kylie snorted. “Sounds like something right up your alley.”

  Channy turned her glare to focus on her roommate, then slowly relaxed, and a faint smile crossed her face. “That’s right, and as the unofficial social director around here I can’t have any unsanctioned parties.”

  Both girls laughed, and Kylie was glad to see her old friend return. She rolled her towel and snapped it at Channy’s leg. “You know, for such a good-natured girl, you have a bit of wildcat in you, don’t you?”

  “Hey, just doing my job,” Channy said. “And you better watch out with that towel. You know what they say about pay-back.”

  Kylie refilled her cup of water. “Let me ask you something. Those two girls over there, they were in the back row. What’s with the armbands they’re wearing?”

  Channy shook her head. “Why don’t we ask?” She raised her voice. “Vonya! Addie! Have you got a second?”

  The two girls, who were talking in hushed whispers against the far wall of the gym, looked over, then glanced quickly at each other. Channy could have sworn that it was almost a guilty look that they shared. After a moment’s hesitation, as if they wanted to ignore Channy’s invitation, they slowly made their way across the room. They stopped about six feet away, arms crossed, with almost defiant looks on their faces.

  “Did you enjoy the workout this morning?” Channy said. Addie, a petite girl from Austria, looked at her friend, then shrugged. “I guess so.” Vonya didn’t answer.

  “The only reason I ask,” Channy said, “is because you seemed very preoccupied with something. It was a little tough keeping your attention today.”

  Again, Vonya didn’t answer. Addie, apparently feeling the awkwardness of the situation, raised her chin a touch and said, “We were just talking. Is that okay?”

  Channy stared at Addie for a few seconds before responding. “Sure, as long as you don’t disrupt the group. Would it be all right if I asked you to wait until after the workout to chat?”

  Vonya spoke up. “Fine. Is there anything else?”

  Channy could feel the distinct coolness emanating from the pair. She didn’t know them very well, but had always exchanged friendly greetings with them. What was going on? She shifted her gaze down to the armbands that they both sported. They were a light yellow color, obviously homemade, crafted from the same piece of cloth. A permanent marker had been used to stencil “R.T.E.” on them in bold black lettering.

  “Mind if I ask about those?” Channy said. “I haven’t seen them before, and I’m just curious.”

  The two girls looked at each other, and then Addie said, “They’re symbols of unity.”

  “Okay. Uh, unity for what? Or who?”

  Vonya gave an impatient sigh. “We happen to belong to a group of crew members who have decided that it’s ridiculous to continue this mission to Eos. We’re in favor of turning around, and taking our chances back on Earth.”

  The shock registered on Channy’s face. “You’ve been recruited by Merit Simms?”

  “Not recruited,” said Addie. “Convinced. This ship has almost been wiped out twice, and we’ve barely started. Meri
t is the only person making any sense these days, and we agree with him.” She kept her arms crossed, and now shifted to one side, her weight on one foot, assuming an almost confrontational pose. Her face looked menacing.

  “Don’t get mad,” Channy said. “I’m just asking questions.” For the first time, Kylie spoke up from beside Channy. “What does the ‘R.T.E.’ stand for?”

  “Return to Earth,” said Addie. “It’s our rally cry, and you’re going to be hearing it a lot more over the next few weeks.”

  Kylie grunted. “Why in the world would you want to return to Earth? You think Bhaktul has just disappeared?”

  “Maybe. Merit says that the Cassini have probably already started working on it, and it will be long gone by the time we get back.”

  “That’s quite an assumption,” Channy said. “And if he’s wrong?” Vonya’s face took on the same look as her friend’s. “Then we’re no worse off than we are out here. Of course, I wouldn’t expect one of Triana’s robots to understand.”

  Channy began to take a step forward, then felt Kylie’s grip on her arm. The Council member stopped and took a deep breath, locked into a staring showdown with Vonya. After a few moments she relaxed and feigned a smile.

  “Okay, well, thanks for clearing that up. We might disagree on some things, but that doesn’t mean we can’t work up a good sweat together down here, right?”

  Addie and Vonya once again exchanged looks, then turned and walked out of the gym, chattering under their breath. Just before they walked out the door Channy could hear one of them snickering.

  “Thanks,” she muttered to Kylie. “I almost lost my temper there.”

  “They’re rude,” Kylie said. “It’s always been funny to me that some people automatically go into attack mode just because someone asks them questions, or disagrees with them. That’s no way to argue your point.” She shook her head, then looked at her roommate. “When did all this ‘return to Earth’ stuff pop up?”

  “Just recently. Merit Simms—the guy they were talking about—is trying to round up support for his ideas. Unfortunately he’s spreading a lot of misinformation.”

  “Like that stuff about the Cassini? You know, I’ve wondered about that myself.”

  Channy stared at her friend, incredulous. “What are you talking about?”

  Kylie shrugged. “You know, just a random thought after we passed by Titan. I mean…” She seemed to be searching for words. “I mean, if they really are that powerful and all…”

  “Listen,” Channy said. “We have a mission to accomplish. Don’t let a bunch of wild ideas start bouncing around your head. Going back to Earth would be a death sentence for us. We have no way of knowing if the Cassini even know about Bhaktul’s Disease, so why would we assume that they have any way—or desire—to fix it?”

  Kylie turned to set down her cup of water. “I’m sure you’re right. Hey, I’ve gotta run, I have a history class in twenty minutes. Talk to you later, right?” Without waiting for an answer, she darted out of the room and toward the lift.

  Channy stared after her, a worried expression staining her usually glowing face.

  “Got a second?”

  Bon looked up from his office desk in Dome 1. Large windows on one wall allowed him to watch the activity in the dome, so he was surprised that he hadn’t seen the approach of Merit Simms, who now stood leaning against the door, one hand in a pocket.

  “What for?” Bon said.

  Merit grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes. I just wanted to ask you about something.”

  “I’m busy.”

  “This won’t take long.”

  Bon stood, walked around his desk, and perched on the edge. He crossed his arms, his cold eyes flashing. “Make it quick.”

  Merit walked into the office and looked out the window into the artificial sunlight bathing Dome 1. In the distance a group of workers harvested potatoes, while three other crew members pushed a work cart down another row in the fields.

  “You guys stay very busy,” Merit said. “During my last tour of duty up here I think I sweated off five pounds. Not enough people express their gratitude for the work you do. I mean, we all eat very well, thanks to—”

  “Is that why you’re here?” Bon said. “To express gratitude?” Another grin splashed across Merit’s face. “Well, sure. It’s not the main reason, but I’ll say it anyway.”

  “Fine. You’re welcome. Now, I told you I was busy.”

  “Yes, you did. In fact, it’s pretty obvious to me, and probably to a lot of people, that you’re one of the hardest workers on the ship. I’ve talked with a few people about you, and other than meals in the Dining Hall, and a quick daily workout, nobody ever sees you. You don’t socialize, you don’t hang out in the Rec Room, you don’t participate in the soccer tournaments. Stuff like that. So I guess everyone assumes that you spend all of your time here, working.”

  Bon’s eyes narrowed. “You know, you take an awfully long time to get to your point. You don’t care about my schedule, or how I spend my time. What do you want?”

  “It’s precisely because of the way you spend your time that I want to talk with you,” Merit said. “There are very few people aboard Galahad who have the perspective that you have. You work hard, you don’t waste time with things you don’t care about, and you don’t get caught up in some of these ridiculous social cliques. In fact, I think it’s safe to say that you are probably the most efficient crew member on the ship.”

  Merit leaned on the sill of the window. “And, you’re a Council member. That means you also get a good perspective on the way the ship is managed.”

  “Yes. So?”

  “Well, Bon, that makes you a rather important person for me to get to know. Because, as you heard, I’m convinced that we are doomed if we continue along this path. We’ve had warning flag after warning flag. How many more catastrophes do you think we can survive? You, of all people, should understand what I’m talking about. You were the only reason we survived the trip around Saturn and Titan. You, not Triana, not the Council, not anyone else.”

  Bon remained silent, but his eyes probed Merit’s. His arms were still crossed, and his right index finger began to slowly tap on his left bicep.

  “It’s also no secret that you don’t see eye to eye with many of the decisions that Triana makes. You’re not afraid to express your opinions. Am I right?”

  “Yes,” Bon said. “I say what I feel. And, unlike you, I don’t waste words saying it.”

  Merit nodded. “I respect you for that. And I respect the fact that you’re not afraid to confront Triana.” He pushed away from the wall and slowly began to pace around the room as he talked.

  “Bon, every day we continue on this journey we increase the chances that we won’t survive. First it was our stowaway. Then it was the Cassini. Now it’s this shooting gallery called the Kuiper Belt that we’ve thrown ourselves into. Word has it that we’ve already had several near-misses, and we’ve barely begun to work our way through it.”

  “You signed up for the trip just like the rest of us, Merit.”

  “That’s right, I did. But we were never really told what we’d be dealing with, were we? Did you get some sort of pre-launch lecture about alien intelligence around Saturn? Did any of us think that our heating system was shaky? Dr. Zimmer was so busy building team spirit that he conveniently neglected to share a few minor details with us, like the fact that we would probably never survive the first year.”

  “I think Dr. Zimmer explained very well the dangers we would face,” Bon said. “You must have been distracted during those discussions. Maybe too busy trying to get people to pay attention to you.”

  Merit’s smile seemed forced. “It’s okay if you don’t really like me right now. I understand. Change is hard for most people. I just figured you were a little different than most people.”

  “Your psycho-babble won’t work with me.”

  “Once I walk out of here you’ll think about it, though. I know y
ou will. And you’ll realize soon enough that this is no psycho-babble. I’m just like you, Bon; I tell it like it is. Which is why I want you on my team.”

  “Is that what you call it? Your ‘team’?”

  “We are a team. And our team is growing every day. A smart guy like you can recognize a winning team when he sees it. Give it some thought.”

  “I don’t need to give it any thought,” Bon said, standing. “And now I think you’d better leave.”

  “Just a minute. Let me ask you one other thing.” Merit stepped forward until he stood facing Bon. “If you change your mind, what do you think Triana will do?”

  “I’m not going to change—”

  “Just suppose. Has Triana ever listened to you before? Do you think she would now?”

  “I told you to leave.”

  “You want to know why she won’t listen to you?” Merit said, taking one more step forward until he was face-to-face with the blond Swede. “Because no matter what you think my motives are, they are nothing compared to hers. She won’t listen to you, or anyone else on the Council, because she’s afraid, and will never admit that she’s wrong.”

  “Get out.”

  “She doesn’t mind dying, Bon, because it’s the ultimate escape for her. Running away from her problems on Earth was easy for her, and she’ll avoid facing those problems even if it means killing the rest of us.”

  It happened quickly. Bon’s fist flew through the air and connected solidly on the side of Merit’s mouth. Merit staggered backward, lost his footing, and fell.

  Bon looked down at him. “I told you three times to get out. I won’t tell you again.”

  Merit propped himself up on one elbow, then gingerly touched the corner of his mouth with a finger, which came away bloody. He examined it for a second, then held it up for Bon to see.

  “Touched a nerve, did I? Was that punch in defense of your own stubbornness, or in defense of Triana?”