The Galahad Legacy

by Dom Testa

  Triana felt a cold knot in her stomach. Torrec had, indeed, said it over and over again. Now, for the first time, the implication took on a dark shadow.

  “You’ve told us that,” she said. “But we’ve chosen to go to Eos.”

  “We respect that decision,” Torrec said. “While we would have preferred that your entire ship and crew travel to our home system, we will create the Channel necessary to complete your mission. However, we do not offer that help without conditions.”

  There was an uneasy rumble in the room, and Triana waited for Torrec to continue.

  “We will supply you with as many of the reproduced pods that you require to reach your destination, and we will keep the others. We also will soon have a replica of your vessel, the ship Galahad, to complement the smaller craft. Further, we will respect your wishes and withdraw the ventet of the specimen you call Alexa, and return it to our system.

  “In exchange, there are conditions,” Torrec said. “We require two additional specimens, complete units, to accompany me. One male, one female.”

  This couldn’t be happening, Triana thought. Torrec was demanding a toll before allowing Galahad to use the Channel. A human toll. And, if they rejected his demand …

  If they rejected his demand then all of them could be dead by the afternoon.

  She bristled. How could she have overlooked this possibility? She’d somehow assumed that the jellyfish would simply do their bidding, opening highways here and there, allowing them safe passage. Serving them. How naive she’d been, blind to the basic concept of payment for services rendered. And now it was going to cost them two crew members.

  Except Torrec had said “conditions.” Plural. Triana was afraid to find out what else he demanded for their lives.

  The atmosphere in the room had inverted, shifting from elation to dread in a matter of seconds. Triana’s mind raced through the possible alternatives left to her, but this was something that would take time to work out. And time was a commodity they did not have. Before she could think of what to say, she saw a figure on the front row stand to address the stage.

  “I would like to volunteer as one of the specimens,” Hannah said.

  Triana was too stunned to reply. She gaped at Hannah, who stood proudly with her hands behind her back, her chin up.

  Gap jumped to his feet. “No!” he said. “You can’t do that.”

  “And why not?” Hannah said, giving him a puzzled look. “I voted for us to go with them, and the scientist in me wants to study the Dollovit as much as they want to examine us. Why wouldn’t I go?”

  Gap was at a loss for an answer. He looked up at Triana for help.

  “We need to talk about this,” Triana said.

  “There’s no time to talk about it,” Hannah said. Of all the people in the room, she seemed to be the most at ease. “It solves two problems: part of Torrec’s demands in return for his help, and a chance for us to learn enough to leap ahead thousands of years.” She gave a respectful nod to the jellyfish. “I’m assuming, Torrec, that this doesn’t need to be a permanent assignment.”

  All eyes turned to the glowing tank on the side of the stage. Torrec’s voice, amplified through the room’s speakers, carried its usual metallic edge.

  “That depends,” he said. “However, should we acquire all the information we need over time, arrangements could be made to conclude the assignment.”

  Gap held a hand out toward Hannah. “Over time? You don’t know how long that might be. You might never make it back.”

  Hannah ignored this, and said to Triana: “Volunteers are needed to close the deal, and I’m willing to go.”

  Triana gave her a sad smile. “Hannah … I appreciate your offer. But Torrec requested two—”

  “And I’ll be the second,” came a voice from the left side of the auditorium.

  Heads craned to see Manu rise to his feet.

  “I’ll go with Hannah,” he said. “I voted to go to Eos, but Hannah will need a companion. Besides, she’s right: there’s a lot to learn, including things that could be a huge benefit to our colony on Eos. Things like health. Medicine. I’m willing to sacrifice a few years now for a payoff later. I’ll go.”

  Triana was thunderstruck. First their leading scientific mind, and now Lita’s top assistant. She saw Gap slowly sit down and turn to talk with Lita, who held her head in her hands.

  “Hannah, Manu,” Triana said. “I appreciate it, really. And I’m sure the rest of the crew appreciates your brave sacrifice. Let’s talk after this meeting, okay? We’ll figure things out.”

  Hannah and Manu both nodded to her, then sat down. Triana looked across the stage at Torrec.

  “If you have other conditions, we’d like to hear what they are.”

  “Besides the two specimens, we also request a portion of the contents from the restricted areas of your ship.”

  It took Triana—and most of the crew—a few moments for this to register. When it did, Triana frowned. “You’re talking about the Storage Sections. But … we don’t know what’s inside the Storage Sections.”

  “We do,” Torrec said. “Our mapping of your ship with the Vo revealed every detail, including the lower level compartments that you call the Storage Sections.”

  Triana’s heart raced. She bit her lip and gave a worried look to the other Council members on the front row. Finally, she turned back to the jellyfish ambassador.

  “Okay,” she said. “What contents in the Storage Sections are you referring to?”

  Torrec said: “The people.”

  17

  Yes, it’s true, I did know about the contents of the Storage Sections, but I was sworn to secrecy, so quit throwing me the hairy eyeball and pretending that you’re mad, because we both know that you’ll be hanging around like you’re my best friend again in a matter of minutes. I even told you four or five books ago that I was in on the secret.

  I would’ve kept that secret all the way to Eos, too. Who knew that we were going to run into space vultures with some sort of cosmic x-ray vision? I mean, besides that one girl in Oregon; she’s figured out everything about two chapters ahead of me. But besides her, who knew?

  * * *

  As the shock wore off, Triana was tempted to gather the Council members into a closed meeting to discuss the bombshell that Torrec had lobbed into their midst. But given the pandemonium that broke out in the auditorium, she realized that this was something the entire crew needed to hear. In fact, they deserved to hear it.

  People in the Storage Sections? People? How was that even possible?

  Once order was restored to the meeting, Triana directed her questions at the ship’s computer. “Roc, I think it’s safe to say that we’re beyond the point of keeping secrets about the Storage Sections. What does Torrec mean when he says people?”

  “Note to self,” Roc said. “Jellyfish cannot keep a secret.”

  “He said people, Roc,” Triana said, unamused. “What does it mean?”

  “It means that your secret cargo on Galahad includes supplies for your first camp sites on Eos, along with special transport craft to get the sizable amount of gear down to the surface. And, yes, you will find people in the Storage Sections.”

  Triana kept her composure. “How is that possible?”

  “It’s possible through technology, that’s how. You’re familiar with suspended animation chambers; it’s how you were able to add one little furball to the ship’s manifest, remember? Well, there are similar chambers stacked within the lower level, and they contain additional colonists selected by Dr. Zimmer.”

  “Teens, like us, I’m assuming?”

  “Yes, fifteen and sixteen at the time of launch, just like the rest of the crew.”

  “How many?”

  Roc said: “Eighty-four.”

  Another shock wave rippled through the room, and Triana steadied herself against the podium. Eighty-four teenagers, in a drug-induced sleep, in the bowels of the ship. In an instant, it seemed, the size of the cr
ew had increased by a third.

  “Why weren’t we told about this?” Triana asked, anticipating the question that every crew member was likely thinking. “Why would Dr. Zimmer store almost a hundred other crew members in suspended animation and leave us in the dark? What does that serve?”

  “My job is to assist all of you in the operation of the ship,” Roc said. “I was ordered to keep quiet regarding the contents of the lower level. I was not told why that was important to the mission director.”

  Triana couldn’t decide if she was angry or not, but there wasn’t time to worry about that. She had more questions about the arrangement—including how they were expected to handle this upon arrival at Eos—but for now there were other issues to confront.

  The jellyfish ambassador had remained quiet during the exchange. Triana turned to him and said: “Torrec, unless they specifically volunteer, I can’t give you permission to take crew members who are cryogenically stored below. I won’t do that to them. And why do you want additional crew members anyway, especially those that are in suspended animation? What would that serve?”

  “I am not interested in the teenaged crew members that are within the cryogenic chambers,” Torrec said.

  Triana frowned again, and was about to probe further when Roc interrupted.

  “Perhaps I should explain. The eighty-four teenagers are only part of the surprise. There are … others.”

  “Others?” Triana said. “You mean adults? There are adults aboard Galahad?”

  “No, far from it,” Roc said. “The rapid spread of Bhaktul disease ruled out anyone over the age of eighteen. The others, in this case, are in the form of human embryos stored in special cryogenic units.”

  “What?” Triana said. She looked at Lita, who appeared stunned, overwhelmed by the barrage of shocking information tumbling forth in the last few minutes. Lita mouthed a question: How many? Triana relayed the question to Roc.

  “The original plan,” he said, “was to launch with at least three hundred, but there were far too many problems, both from a technical standpoint and also administrative. Meaning it was more difficult to contain—quietly and respectfully—than Dr. Zimmer ever counted on. So your total count in the Storage Sections includes the eighty-four teens in cryo storage, and just a few shy of two hundred embryos. One ninety-three, to be exact.”

  “Roc,” Triana said. “This … is unbelievable.”

  “I’m relieved that I don’t have to keep a lid on it anymore,” the computer said. “I’m actually glad that Torrec has a big mouth. Well, not literally; I’m not even sure he has a mouth. But you know what I mean.”

  “So many,” Triana said, her voice barely a whisper.

  “Yes,” Roc said. “If you put them all together, there are more of them than there are of you.”

  Lita stood up from the front row. “Roc,” she said, “how did Dr. Zimmer find that many human embryos? And how could he possibly keep that kind of program a secret?”

  “He didn’t have to find them, Lita. They found him. From the day the Galahad mission was announced, hundreds of thousands of families contacted Dr. Zimmer and his staff, begging to have their children considered for acceptance to the program. But few people knew about the thousands of couples who didn’t have children yet, but still wanted their offspring to be part of the mission.

  “After that, it was a matter of contacting these people and making one thing clear: Dr. Zimmer would consider them for inclusion in the Galahad mission, but they had to sign an affidavit of complete and total confidentiality and secrecy. One violation of any kind, one slip, and their future children would not be included. And, of the almost two hundred that were actually conceived—all of them through in vitro fertilization, by the way—not one person blabbed. It was that important to them.”

  Triana looked down at the podium as she absorbed this latest news. Although it was unnerving to find out so late in the mission, it made perfect sense. Space aboard the ship was at a premium, as were resources; storing embryos required energy and stability, but no maintenance and hardly any room. All two hundred likely could fit within one large refrigerated cabinet.

  It was ingenious. Triana was embarrassed to admit that her initial reaction had been … well, she’d been a little creeped out. But now, given the chance to step back and see it from a scientific viewpoint, she was surprised that it had never occurred to her. Families would do anything to give their children a fighting chance to survive. Why shouldn’t that include their unborn children as well?

  But a new concern raced into her mind.

  “Tell me why, Torrec,” she said. “I can understand you requesting two members of our crew, but I’m not comfortable with the thought of you going back to your star system with human embryos. I’m sorry, but it sounds too much like a horror movie for me.”

  “Your concern is noted, and understood,” Torrec said. “I will be forthcoming with you and let you know that our species would be equally as protective in this regard. However, allow me to explain. I am confident that once you hear our position, you will be inclined to agree to the condition.”

  “You’ve got a ways to go to convince me,” Triana said.

  “We do not request all of them, only a fraction of the total,” Torrec said. “And there are three important points to consider. One, no harm will come to the embryos. They will be cared for and nurtured throughout their growth stages. We are scientists; we want to study and learn. It does us no good to damage the object of that study.

  “Also, we have the tools necessary to bring the children to term, along with a guarantee of heath and maintenance. Your Storage Sections contain everything necessary to duplicate a human growth medium, and we do as well. The children will be strong and healthy at birth.

  “And finally, it makes sense from a practical point of view for you,” Torrec said. “I believe your species has a classic idiom: do not put all of your eggs in one basket. In this case, it would be in a literal sense. Your early days of colonization at Eos will be harsh, and extremely dangerous. By putting all of your future generations at risk on a planet’s surface, you would rest assured that a percentage of your colony’s population is safe and well-cared for. When the time comes, these future colonists will be ready to make the trip to Eos to join your growing society.”

  His arguments made sense. Triana couldn’t deny the logic behind everything Torrec said. But she still found herself reluctant to open her mind to the possibility. Her rational mind said it would be okay—she hadn’t even known about the human cargo stowed in the Storage Sections until minutes ago—but something kept her from nodding in agreement.

  And then it hit her. Regardless of how long she’d known about them, the embryos aboard Galahad represented the future of their civilization, and her mothering instincts automatically kicked in. She discovered that she was exhibiting an emotional reaction that probably was not too different from many of the animal species on Earth. She was protecting the nest.

  She saw confusion on faces throughout the auditorium. No one was prepared for this dilemma. The crew of Galahad looked up at her, watching and waiting. From the front row, Channy appeared in knots, while Gap and Lita were once again conferring, their foreheads almost touching as they quietly talked. More than anything at the moment, Triana wanted to hear their opinions.

  She stalled. “Do you have other conditions as well?” she said to Torrec. “Or does this sum it up?”

  “We require your cooperation,” the jellyfish said. “Once the transfer process begins, there will be no room for reconsideration. Likewise, once the Channel aperture is in place, the course is set. The energy expenditure is too great to allow for indecision. And we require your pledge of peaceful intent in all matters, now and in the future. We, like many species you will encounter, do not offer what your people refer to as a ‘second chance.’ Any violation of peaceful intent will incur harsh, aggressive action. There must be no misunderstanding on this.”

  It was a subtle message, but
a powerful reminder. The Dollovit might be helping the young star travelers—for a price—but they could easily crush the upstarts from Earth in a flash. It was a friendly heads-up from Torrec that the teens on Galahad were playing out of their league, and had best remember it.

  From her spot on the stage Triana studied the sea of faces. It was easy enough to read the shock that had blown the crew back into their seats. Almost a hundred teens tucked below, along with twice as many embryos. And now their alien benefactors were demanding a fee for their help. It pained her to admit it, but with an impending disaster looming, Triana knew that they had no choice but to agree to the terms.

  “I want your word,” she said to Torrec, “that all of our companions will be treated well.”

  “That is understood,” the ambassador said.

  “And I want your word that they will be returned; that they’ll be able to join us again when you’ve completed your studies.”

  “I am able to state that those who wish to return will be allowed to do so.”

  “They’ll want to join us,” Triana said.

  “If so, they may.”

  Something in Torrec’s answer sounded another alarm within Triana. Bon had referred to the space around the red dwarf star as a floating zoo, and how many zoos released their animals back into the wild? Torrec had given his word, but what did that mean to a Dollovit? She realized that she’d been backed into a corner. In order to save the crew, some would have to be …

  There was no other way to put it: they would be loaned out.

  Triana again made eye contact with Lita, exchanging a look of futility. The Council members, along with the rest of the crew, understood what had to be done.

  “All right,” Triana said.

  The countdown began.

  18

  Gap stood before the familiar panel in Engineering, talking with Julya Kozlova about the patchwork repairs to the ship’s radiation shield.

  “It’s frustrating,” Julya said. “One look at this and it seems as if everything’s fine, no problems.”