by Dom Testa
It was up to her to create it and make it real.
She thought about Lita’s admission of doubt. It had surprised her…or had it? Could she honestly say that the same thought had never entered her own mind?
Triana looked again at the picture of her dad. He was gone, and Earth could never be the same for her. His death had been the motivating factor in her decision to leave.
But now, after more time had passed, would it be possible to go back and pick up again, to find a new life there? Was she completely sure that happiness on Earth, for her, was impossible?
Stop that, she thought. Bhaktul had made the decision for all of them. There was no going back.
But still…
She looked at the clock and realized that it was time to return to Sick House. Lita would soon be ready for surgery. Triana felt a stab of anxiety, but realized that it was probably only a fraction of the nervousness that gripped Lita and Alexa right now.
Swinging her legs off the bed, Galahad’s Council Leader sat up and pulled her long brown hair behind her ears. She knew that one aspect of leadership was instilling confidence in others, yet that task would be very challenging in this circumstance. Who among them was ready—especially as teenagers—to literally hold a friend’s life in their hand, the way Lita would when she picked up that scalpel? What exactly did one say to a person preparing for that? Triana wanted desperately to empathize with what Lita was facing, but was that possible? Was it really possible to imagine that responsibility?
Triana’s thoughts flashed back to their encounter with the stowaway, and her frantic remote control of the Spider which would ultimately save their lives. She had held the fate of Galahad in her hands at that moment.
There might be similarities with what Lita now confronted, but only slightly. Triana wondered, were she in Lita’s place, if she could even hold the blade steady, while the unconscious figure of her friend lay before her.
Well, she decided, for now it was unimportant. Lita was trained—although briefly—for this task, and Triana was not. Support was the best thing she could offer, and she would devote all of her energies to that.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of her door. She opened it to find Lita standing there, her eyes hollow and distant.
“It’s almost time,” Lita said softly. “You said you wanted to be there.”
In an instant Triana recognized that Lita could have easily called down to her with this announcement. The fact that she had taken the time to personally escort Triana to Sick House must have meant that she wanted to talk.
“Come in for a moment,” Triana said, standing aside. When the two girls were seated in the room, a silence fell over them. Triana waited.
A minute passed. Two. Finally, Lita made eye contact. “I want you to know that I will do my very best.”
The comment seemed strange to Triana, almost out of character for her friend. Lita was one of Triana’s rocks, a stable, steady force that she relied upon for counsel and guidance during difficult moments. She would, of course, do her best. There was no question about that. Something else had to be brewing inside Lita, and was undoubtedly the reason she was here. Triana chose to remain silent and listen.
“They’re finishing the prep on Alexa, so I have a couple of minutes,” Lita said. “I…I wanted to share a story with you, a story about my mother.”
She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “You know, of course, that my mother was a doctor. And she was very good. Early in her career she was approached by several universities and hospitals in America, hoping to bring her onto their staffs. She was very tempted, too. At one point she even traveled to Los Angeles for an interview.
“But then something happened. While she was considering the job offer in the States, her best friend fell ill. Cancer.”
There was another moment of silence as Lita gathered her thoughts. “I was only an infant at the time, but I’ve heard many stories. Her name was Carmela, and she had been my mother’s closest friend since grade school. In college, while my mother studied medicine, Carmela was interested only in mathematics. From what I’ve heard, she was brilliant. She and my mother spent hours together in the library, studying for their exams, of course. But more than that. They would share their dreams, too. My mother was sure she would become a top surgeon, while Carmela was convinced she would teach in a major university somewhere.
“They would also talk about their personal dreams. My mother was married with a baby daughter, and Carmela was engaged to be married to her high school sweetheart. They would laugh, I’m told, about how they would have to convince their husbands to move, so that the two friends would always live in the same city. In the same neighborhood, they claimed.” A faint smile crossed Lita’s face. “They probably would have insisted on buying homes right next door to each other.”
Triana smiled, and took Lita’s hand for support. “But the cancer,” Lita said, the smile fading. “The cancer.” She fell quiet for a moment. When she spoke again, she tried to keep her voice strong, although it was obvious to Triana that her emotions were beginning to take a toll.
“By now my mother was certified, and working in the hospital in Veracruz. As I mentioned, the offer from Los Angeles was on her mind when Carmela became sick. Two doctors informed Carmela’s fiancé, and my mother, that surgery might help.
“Or it might kill her.”
Triana held her breath, staring into Lita’s eyes, which had again taken on the hollow, vacant look.
“Carmela chose to have the surgery, on one condition. She insisted that my mother perform the operation. She believed that my mother’s love for her would make the difference.
“So,” Lita said, “that’s exactly what happened. My mother summoned all of her courage and faith, and walked into that operating room, with her best friend’s life in her hands.”
In a flash, Triana knew the outcome. Lita confirmed it. “Carmela died. She survived the operation, but was gone twelve hours later. The other doctors told my mother that there was nothing she could have done, that she had done the best she could. But my mother was inconsolable. In her mind she had failed her best friend. She had not been able to save her, which is what she had studied and trained for her entire adult life. She watched her best friend die.”
At this point Lita’s voice broke. Her shoulders shook, and a sob escaped her throat. “And that changed everything. My mother immediately declined the offer to go to Los Angeles. She gave up any thoughts of ever leaving Veracruz. She chose to never again perform surgery, and instead dedicated herself to a small family practice in her hometown.”
Lita looked up into Triana’s face. “She never got over Carmela’s death.”
Triana squeezed Lita’s hand and felt her own tears coming on. “Lita,” she said in a soft voice. “Your mother was a hero. She chose to spend her life helping others. She also chose to do everything in her power to help her friend. Sometimes….” Triana hesitated, thinking of her own father. “Sometimes the universe has plans for our friends and family that we can’t understand.
“But that doesn’t mean that we don’t try. The universe could very well have planned for your mother to save Carmela’s life. We don’t know, just as we never know what’s in store for any of us.”
Triana reached out and placed her hand on Lita’s upper arm. “It seems like such a cruel coincidence right now, the fact that you’re in the same position as your mother. But…but when you think about it, is it really? Your mother was a caregiver, as you are now. Caregivers are going to sometimes find themselves treating their own loved ones, their friends, people they care about. As much as we hate to think about it, this probably won’t be the last time you’re called upon to do this.”
She waited until she saw Lita give a slight nod before continuing. “So, while we have no idea what’s in store for any of us, we do know that it’s our destiny to do everything we can to help, whenever possible. That’s who we are. That’s who you are.
“I know that your mother would tell you the same thing.”
For a while Lita said nothing, looking into Triana’s eyes. Triana leaned across and embraced her, and felt Lita’s breathing become strong and steady.
17
By now you undoubtedly recognize that I am an amazing observer of human characteristics and behavior. You do recognize that, right?
Here’s my latest observation. Human males are somehow genetically related to bull elks and bighorn sheep. Why? Because they all butt heads the same way.
“Hey, Gap. Mind if I interrupt for a minute?”
Gap recognized the voice behind him. He stood with his hands clasped behind his head, staring at the same panel that had occupied his attention far too much recently, once again wracking his brain to solve—once and for all—the heating issue on Level 6. It had stabilized for the time being, so on his way to Sick House he had decided to pop in and check on things.
He answered without turning around. “I’m a little busy right now, Merit.”
“I won’t take long.”
“I’m busy here, and in just a couple of minutes I have to be somewhere else,” Gap said.
“Sick House, right?”
That was enough to prompt Gap to spin around. Before he could speak, Merit held up both hands as if warding off a blow.
“Whoa, steady boy,” Merit said. “Yes, I heard about Alexa. I’m sorry about that. I’m sure she’ll be—”
“Before you get any ideas,” Gap spit out, “this has nothing to do with our mission or our destination. It just happened. It would have happened to Alexa if we were heading back to Earth, too.”
Merit slowly lowered his hands. “I know that. I said I’m sorry, okay?” He paused, allowing Gap to cool a bit. “Just one minute of your time?”
“You have nothing to say that I want to hear right now,” Gap said. He looked around.
“Where’s your cheering section? Traveling without your fan club today?”
A smile spread across Merit’s face. “How do you know what I’m going to say? You might be very interested.”
“Not likely. I’ve heard your arguments already. Not very impressive, really.”
“Afraid to find out what I might say? You haven’t become close-minded, have you, Gap?”
It was Gap’s turn to smile. “I’m sure if you blabbered on for weeks and weeks, eventually something interesting might accidentally spill out of your mouth.”
Merit took a step back, leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “I should know better than to verbally spar with someone who practices with Roc on a daily basis. I am overmatched.”
Gap stared at him for a moment. He had always noticed the long, jet-black hair, often pulled back into a tail. Now he scanned Merit’s face, and noticed for the first time a small scar under his right eye. The bandage from his lip was gone, without any trace of the blow that Bon had inflicted. Apparently Merit didn’t feel the prop was necessary anymore.
“Alexa is about to have surgery, and I want to be there,” Gap said. “You have thirty seconds.”
“Then I’ll make it quick,” Merit said. “I just wanted you to know that we now number almost fifty. That’s twenty percent of the crew. And, although you sometimes seem to get…shall we say, emotional?…I know that you’re one of the brightest people on this ship. Putting aside for the moment your loyalty to Triana—and I honestly do commend you for that—does your brain really tell you that she’s right and we’re wrong? Have you truly stopped to consider what we’re saying? Loyalty is admirable…but not at the cost of your life. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Gap chuckled. “Let’s shoot straight with each other, Merit. First of all, I’m not swayed by your constant use of the word ‘we.’ This is about you. Secondly, if you’re going to appeal to my intellect, it would be a good idea to take a stance that actually makes sense. Your idea of going back to Earth is completely illogical. You accuse me of being emotional; well, your plan is based totally on fear, one of the most destructive emotions there is.
“And finally,” he added, “you’ll find that people are loyal to Triana for a reason. She’s doing the job that was assigned to her—unlike some people—and she’s doing it well.”
Merit nodded his head. “Nice speech. I’m glad we could talk.” Gap walked around him toward the door. “One other thing,” Merit called out. “If things turn ugly—and they might—you’re always welcome to change your mind and come over to our side. Just remember that.”
Gap stopped at the open door and looked back. “I would be very careful if I were you, Merit.”
“And you as well,” Merit said.
Triana and Channy stood next to Alexa’s bed. Triana knew that the best thing they could do was cheer up the sick girl, and keep the atmosphere upbeat. She also knew that these weren’t exactly her strongest talents, but was confident that Channy would more than make up for it. She wasn’t disappointed.
“Don’t think for a minute that I don’t know what’s really going on here,” Channy said, fixing Alexa with a mock scowl. “I’ve seen people go to outrageous extremes to get out of one of my workouts, but this is ridiculous.”
Alexa, prepped and ready for surgery, managed to force a smile through the haze of painkilling medication that had left her barely awake. She mumbled, “Can’t…fool you, can…I?”
Channy shook her head. “And if you think this gives you a free pass for months, think again.”
Triana took Alexa’s hand. “I see you’ve got a little friend keeping you company.” Iris was curled up beside the patient, purring steadily. One of the cat’s paws was casually draped across Alexa’s forearm.
“Uh-huh,” Alexa said. “She’s my…good luck charm.”
“I thought you might enjoy some pet power on your way to surgery,” Channy said, scratching the cat’s chin. “You know, they say that dogs and cats can sense when somebody’s sick. And look, she could have jumped down a long time ago, but she’s not going anywhere.” In response to the scratching, Iris closed her eyes and began to purr louder.
“You’ll have quite an audience, too,” Triana said. “Gap’s on his way, and your roomie will be here any minute.”
Alexa exhaled a grunt. “That’s…nice. Tell them…I said…thank…you.”
“Oh, one other thing,” Channy said with a grin. “Hurry up and get well so you can be on my dating game. You’ve become a celebrity now, which means you’ll be a very popular contestant.”
It was obvious that Alexa wanted to respond, but instead her eyes closed and her breathing became regular and deep. Channy, a sudden look of fear in her eyes, turned to Triana.
“Is this normal?” she said.
“Yes,” came the answer from Lita who was walking into the room. “She’s getting a gradual drip that puts her in a light sleep on and off.”
Triana bit her lip, then said to Lita. “You need anything from us?”
“No, but thanks,” Lita said. “We’re going to take her into the operating room now.” She gently shook Alexa’s arm. “Hey, sleepy head.”
Alexa stirred and opened her eyes about halfway. Lita leaned over her and said, “What do you want to eat when we’re all finished? Pizza? Ice cream? Liver?”
A trace of a smile crept across Alexa’s semi-conscious face. Channy picked up Iris and touched Alexa’s other arm. “You can borrow Iris during your recovery, but you’re responsible for cleaning up any hairballs, okay?”
It was Triana’s turn. She felt as if she should say something lighthearted as well, but found that she was becoming emotionally overcome by the situation. A lump formed in her throat. “We’ll see you soon, okay?” was all that she could manage to say.
“There’s good news,” Lita said to Alexa. “You’ll sleep through the blood, so you won’t have to see anything.”
A larger smile spread across Alexa’s face. Before she could mutter anything, two Sick House workers entered the room. They stepped up, adjusted Alexa’s bed, then rolled it out of th
e hospital ward toward Galahad’s lone operating room. It had never been used up to this point.
Triana looked at Lita. “Blood?”
“She told me the other day that she’s afraid of blood. She works in a clinic, and she’s afraid of…” Lita began to choke up.
Triana put an arm around her friend. “She’s in great hands, Lita. You’ll be perfect.”
“Yeah,” added Channy. “Piece of cake.”
Lita exhaled and appeared to gather her composure. “All right. I’ll…I guess I’ll see you in a little while.” She hugged Triana and Channy, then left to scrub and change into sterile gear.
Channy shifted Iris into a crook of her arm, then shook her head in disbelief. “She’s not even sixteen years old yet, and she’s about to operate on someone. I can’t even imagine that.”
Triana said, “She probably can’t, either.”
The two of them retreated to the Sick House office. The door to the hallway opened, and Gap walked in with Alexa’s roommate, Katarina.
“Did we miss her?” Gap said.
Triana nodded. “Yeah, they just took her in.”
“Is she going to be okay?” Katarina said softly.
Everyone was quiet for a moment as the gravity of the situation finally hit home. Through all of the tough scrapes, through all of the near-death experiences, and through all of the drama, nothing like this had happened until now. Once again it occurred to the four Galahad crew members standing in Sick House that they were indeed on their own. There was no help to call in, no ambulance that could rush to the scene, no…
No adult that they could lean on. They had only themselves. Triana finally answered Katarina. “Yes. She’s going to be okay.”
The mechanical waves of sound are unable to travel through the icy vacuum of space, which means that the ultimate silence sits just beyond a planet’s atmosphere. The Kuiper objects that jostled and collided with each other gave off eruptions of rock and ice shards, but there was no soundtrack to accompany their impacts, no matter how violent.