by Dom Testa
A tap came on his open door. Hannah stood just outside, her body language making it clear that she felt as if she were intruding.
“Yes, come in,” Bon said, puzzled by the visit. Other than a brief connection during the drama around Titan he hadn’t spent any time with her. He knew that she was gifted when it came to mathematics, and that she and Gap were close, but, between his natural reluctance to socialize and her shyness, they had never really spoken.
“I don’t want to interrupt anything,” she said, taking a few tentative steps into his office.
“No, you’re not interrupting,” he said. “What’s on your mind?” She sat down across from his desk. “Well, I’ve been doing some research on the Kuiper Belt.” When Bon didn’t respond, she nervously looked down at her hands. “It’s a pretty scary place. I mean, a lot more dangerous than we thought, obviously. There’s a lot more…stuff, I guess you could say, than we thought would be out here. Mostly smaller rocks and ice balls. It’s going to be very difficult to squeeze through it all.”
Bon stared at her. “Sounds like you’ve been talking with Merit.”
“No, no,” Hannah said quickly, looking up at him. “I mean, I know what he’s saying, and he’s right that it’s dangerous. But I don’t agree with him about turning back.”
“Okay,” Bon said, sitting back in his chair. “I’m sorry, but I don’t really know that much about it. Not my specialty. I’m pretty busy up here. I leave the piloting of the ship to others.”
Hannah swallowed, and again looked as if she was cowering from him. “Right, I know that. That’s not really why I’m here.”
“And just why are you here?”
“Well…” She paused.
Bon said, “Contrary to what you might think, I don’t bite. What do you want to talk to me about?”
She began again. “Well, I’ve been plugging in a lot of numbers, trying to make sense of what we’re seeing out here. There are some extremely large bodies, the size of dwarf planets, like Pluto. There are probably a hundred or so of those. But that’s nothing compared to the billions and billions of smaller chunks. They’re scattered in a haphazard way. When you first look at it, it seems random.”
Bon studied her face. “I suppose you’re going to tell me that it’s really not random?”
She nodded. “That’s right. There are pockets of density here and there, separated by long stretches where it’s rather unpopulated. We could zip through those areas without too many worries. At least not compared to the other zones.”
“Bad luck,” the Swede said to her. “We happened across a thick stretch, I guess.”
“No,” she said. “We didn’t just happen across it. We have to go through this crowded stretch if we want to get to Eos.”
“I don’t understand what you’re getting at,” Bon said. “Of course we have to go this way.” He studied her face for a moment, trying to jump a step ahead in order to figure out where she was going. “Wait a minute,” he said, pushing his chair back. “Are you suggesting that these thick pockets of space debris are deliberately in this spot?”
Hannah diverted her eyes. “It’s probably a discussion for the entire Council, but I wanted to at least talk to you about something…sensitive.”
“Let me guess,” Bon said. “The Cassini.”
Hannah nodded, keeping her eyes in her lap.
Bon exhaled loudly. “Listen, I’m getting a little tired of all the questions about them. We left Titan behind months ago.”
“But I’m guessing that…” Hannah seemed to find a hidden reserve of courage. “I’m guessing that you’re still in contact with them somehow, and I was hoping that you might be able to…I don’t know, ask a question, or something.”
Another long silence fell over the room. This time Hannah kept her gaze fixed on Bon’s eyes, as if willing him to answer. He stared back, considering his words. Or, rather, considering the potential impact his words would have.
“I think I am,” he said finally.
Hannah swallowed and let out her breath. “You think you’re still in contact?”
“Yeah. I think so.”
A visible look of relief crossed Hannah’s face. “I was hoping you would say that. So, if you don’t mind me prying, why do you think so?”
Bon looked out the window into Dome 1. “Just little things here and there. I told Channy that it felt almost like déjà vu, but sometimes it’s more than that. A little while ago we had a problem with one of the tractors. A couple of us banged around on it but couldn’t get it to go.”
He paused, looking back at Hannah. “And then I just kinda…I don’t know, sat back, closed my eyes, and quit trying so hard. A moment later I knew what I needed to do. And I did it.”
“You got it to run?”
“Yeah.”
“But couldn’t you have already known how to fix it, and you just finally remembered?”
Bon shrugged. “You asked if I thought I was still in contact, and that’s what I think. Sometimes things just come to me. Could I have fixed the engine on that tractor anyway? Maybe. But as soon as I let go and emptied my mind, the answer came to me. In my opinion it came from the Cassini.”
Hannah nodded slowly. She unconsciously reached out and straightened a piece of paper on Bon’s desk. “Okay. Well, like I said, I’m glad to hear that, because I’d like to make a request.”
Bon chuckled. “All right. What is it you want to know? Something about these dense spots in the Kuiper Belt, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll explain it in detail with the Council, but when we have that meeting I’d like to know if the Cassini can answer a question for me.”
“Well,” Bon said, “obviously I can’t promise anything, but I’ll do my best. What is it?”
Hannah hesitated before answering. “I want to know if these pockets are meant to keep things out, or to keep us in.”
20
Triana’s heart sank. Light spilled into the Conference Room from the corridor, and Lita stood in the doorway, looking completely drained, almost ready to collapse. In a flash Gap bolted from his seat and helped her over to the table where she sat down heavily. Triana and Channy rushed to her side, both dropping to a knee to look into her face.
“Lita,” Triana said. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” Lita mumbled. “Not really.”
Channy was the one who asked what they all were afraid to ask. “Alexa…?”
Lita looked down at Channy, then at Gap, then Triana. Her gaze finally settled upon Katarina, who was frozen in her chair, her eyes wide.
“She…” Lita began to say, then shook with a sob. “She made it through the surgery fine, but…”
Nobody spoke. Triana placed a hand on Lita’s knee to show support.
“I got the appendix out,” Lita said softly. “But…but we couldn’t wake her up afterwards.”
Channy shot a quick glance of alarm at Triana. “What does that mean?”
Lita looked at Channy with red-rimmed eyes. “It means that she’s in a coma.”
Across the table Katarina brought her hand up to her mouth, letting out a sharp cry. Triana felt a shudder ripple through her body, and her mouth went dry. She managed to exchange a look with Gap, who spoke for the first time.
“But…that might be normal, right?” he said. “Like a defense mechanism or something?”
Lita shook her head. “No, it’s not normal. She should be wide awake right now. But her body had some strange reaction to the anesthesia, and she’s not waking up.” She turned to look at Triana. “She’s not waking up,” she repeated.
Now Triana felt her heart ache for her friend. She could only imagine the pain that Lita must be experiencing. Words, which only minutes before had seemed easy to find, now seemed out of reach. And yet something needed to be said.
She gently touched Lita’s face, turning it so that they would make eye contact. “Listen to me,” Triana said, her voice low but firm. “A couple of hours ago you were ter
rified because you were about to perform surgery—surgery, Lita!—on your friend. There were doubts running through your head. And you pulled it off. Do you understand that? You’re about to turn sixteen, and out here, more than a billion miles from home, you just saved someone’s life. Nobody else on this ship could have done that!”
The others in the room were motionless, listening to Triana. Lita seemed slowly to regain her composure. Her body appeared to relax, melting into the chair.
“You are responsible for Alexa being alive right now,” Triana said. “She had a reaction to the anesthesia, but that’s something you could never have known. Your first priority was to operate on her, quickly. You saved her.”
Lita smiled faintly. “I was so scared.”
“I know,” Triana half-whispered. “I know you were. But you did it. We’re all so proud of you.” She leaned over and wrapped her arms around Lita, who returned the hug and finally found release in tears.
Channy wept, too. She leaned in and joined the two Council members in their embrace.
Gap sat down in one of the chairs. He respectfully waited a few moments before speaking. “Um, what happens now?”
Lita sat back and dabbed at the remaining tears. “Well, I honestly don’t know. Alexa has the hospital ward to herself, so she’ll be getting a lot of personalized care. She’s breathing on her own just fine. I think all we can do is watch and wait.”
Triana pulled up one of the chairs and sat down. “Roc, can you help us out with some answers here?”
“I’ve just been analyzing the data,” the computer said. “Alexa is in a low-level state on the Glasgow Coma Scale, but I don’t see any signs of brain damage.”
“How long could this last?” Gap said.
“Impossible to answer. It’s actually rare for a coma to last more than a few weeks at most, and often it’s just a matter of days. Notable exceptions include senators and congressmen, who have been known to remain in a coma for decades. I would prefer to withhold any prediction on Alexa until we see what happens in the next twenty-four hours.”
Triana digested this for a minute. “Okay,” she said to Lita. “What do you need from us?”
Galahad’s Health Director stood up. “I can’t think of anything right now.” She let out a long breath. “Well, I have to get back to Sick House. Sorry if I freaked out a bit, guys.”
Channy shook her head. “Don’t be crazy. We think you’re amazing.”
“Thanks,” Lita said with a smile. “I appreciate the support from all of you.” She looked at Katarina at the end of the table. “I’m going to take good care of your roomie, okay?”
Katarina walked over to Lita and gave her a hug. “I know you will. Thank you. Is it okay if I at least see her for a moment?”
“Sure,” Lita said. “But only for a minute right now. C’mon.” She started to follow Katarina into the corridor, then turned back to face Triana. She didn’t say anything, but Triana could sense what her friend was thinking. She smiled and nodded at Lita, who spun around with a renewed confidence and walked briskly out the door.
The room remained silent for a few seconds. Then Gap drummed his fingers on the table and said, “Life is never boring aboard Galahad, is it?”
Triana said, “Not so far, anyway.” In her mind she quickly ran through the inventory of current issues. Heating problems, the Kuiper Belt minefield, Alexa’s emergency surgery…
And Merit Simms.
The drama from Alexa’s appendicitis had distracted Triana for awhile, but she knew that the minute she walked out of the Conference Room she would be walking right back into the controversy that Merit had stirred up.
Gap seemed to read her thoughts. “Just for the record, our troublesome friend came to see me. I have to tell you that I don’t care for the tone his little speeches are taking.”
Triana shook her head. “I know what you’re suggesting, but I find it very hard to believe that he would ever resort to violence.”
“It doesn’t have to be him, though, does it?” Gap said. “The way he’s going about this protest could provoke somebody else to do something stupid. Merit might not even know about it, even though he’s to blame.”
As much as she hated to admit it, Triana knew that this argument was valid. Tensions were starting to run high and sides were being drawn; an insignificant spark could set off a chain of events that might end in violence. Earth’s history was peppered with numerous examples, often with the original instigator out of the picture. And, once it began, it was extremely difficult to stop.
Triana hoped that they had left that particular aspect of human nature behind when they launched. Time would tell.
At the moment she felt the gravity of her balancing act between respecting Merit’s right to protest and maintaining peace, order, and productivity among the crew. She immediately recalled Dr. Zimmer’s recorded message: “Finding that fair position might seem tough, if not impossible.” He had, as usual, been prophetic with his prediction about crew relations; would she now reward his faith in her as a leader?
The logical response to Gap’s concern was obvious to her. “The time has come,” she said to him. “We’ll have a full crew meeting in two days. It’s time that we dealt with this issue head-on.”
Channy pumped her fist in the air and let out an excited “Yes!” Gap raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Sounds like a good plan to me,” he said.
Hannah walked down the deserted corridor of the ship, keeping exactly two feet from the curved wall. Her eyes remained focused on a spot on the floor ten feet ahead of her. One hand clutched her workpad, the other hung limply at her side. A fellow crew member exited a room directly in front of her, almost colliding, before pulling up and letting her pass. She never saw him.
Her mind was still on the conversation with Bon. The more she thought about it, the more she became convinced that her theory—as crazy as it sounded—might very well be correct. And, if it was, Galahad was in more danger than they had originally thought.
So why wasn’t she afraid? Why did this excite her when it should have left her terrified?
She realized that the answer lay within her own natural curiosity, a force so powerful it had led ancient mariners to venture out beyond the edge of the horizon, where legend held that the Earth fell away into a void of monsters and devils. The same force had also compelled adventurers to risk their lives to scale the highest mountains, to cross the Antarctic ice pack, to plunge into the murky depths of the ocean, all in the name of exploration and to satisfy mankind’s overwhelming desire to see, to learn, to know what was out there.
It had also driven thirty scientists and researchers to the moons of Saturn, where they had mysteriously perished in the pursuit of knowledge.
This same force churned inside Hannah Ross. Fear might lurk somewhere within, but it stood no chance against her overwhelming desire to learn. Bon had helped with another piece of the puzzle; now her mind was in overdrive, trying its best to see exactly what picture this puzzle would produce when all was said and done.
It might not be pretty.
The time had come to meet once again with Galahad’s Council. She might lack concrete proof of her theory, but her instincts had been right during the crisis at Titan and those same feelings were bubbling around again.
She looked up in time to notice that she had reached her room. Once inside she crossed to her desk, set the workpad down, nudged it slightly to make sure that its edge aligned evenly with the side of the desk, and began to mentally prepare her presentation to the Council before writing it. Snapping on the vidscreen she opened her email account. Before she could compose a note to Triana she saw that the Council Leader had sent out a mass email to the entire crew.
She scanned it quickly. A general crew meeting would take place in two days, 2 p.m., in the auditorium that they called School.
Things were reaching the boiling point. If Triana was going to address all of the crew members, then she would need to know right away. It
could change everything.
21
The sounds coming from the hidden speakers in her room mimicked an ocean shore, complete with crashing waves and an occasional gull cry. Although she had spent the majority of her life in landlocked Colorado, Triana loved the soothing atmosphere that was created with these sounds, and was thankful that Lita had suggested them. Lita, practically raised with sand between her toes, had touted the hypnotic background noise as “therapy for the soul.” That prescription was exactly what Triana needed at the moment.
She scribbled a few words into her journal, but found that her thoughts were scattered and unsatisfying. After a moment of consideration, she decided that was okay; the emotional release from her journaling served a purpose, scattered thoughts and all. She leaned back over the pages.
With another crew meeting coming up, the perfectionist in me is rearing its ugly head again. With all that has happened in the past couple of days, it’s time to give myself permission to NOT have all of the answers all of the time.
If we weren’t always moments away from being blasted out of existence, if Merit wasn’t practically leading a mutiny, and if Alexa was awake and alert, I’d almost say it was time for a vacation. Just think, it wasn’t long ago that every summer was a long vacation. Those days are gone.
I could use a mental vacation, that’s for sure. The more I allow myself to think about it, the more I realize that I do miss the sun, the wind, the openness of home. I’m angry that these thoughts even enter my mind.
But they do. They’re real, and I have to accept them, deal with them, and move on. Take a break.
So, even though I need to work out exactly what I’m going to say to the crew…I’m not going to do that right now. I’m putting everything on hold for the next hour, and enjoying the sounds of the sea, maybe doing some yoga, and simply breathing.
A smile crept across her face. She knew that, for her, this was a tall order. There was, however, someone who could help her relax.