The Galahad Legacy

by Dom Testa

  He sat up, wincing at the sharp pain in his right pinkie finger, which had apparently buckled under his weight during the fall. He wrung his hand a few times, silently scolding himself for not taking Triana’s warnings seriously. The finger was broken, which wasn’t a serious physical setback; it was the needling he was sure to get from Lita and Channy that he dreaded.

  His first priority was the radiation shield. Getting to his feet and once again wringing his hand, he was at the control panel in five strides.

  “Hey there, Roc,” he said. “I guess we made it. At least I did; are you there?”

  The computer answered immediately. “You know how much I love that question. The metaphysical implications are so … so … deep. Are any of us really here, Gap?”

  Gap ignored the bait and studied the data. “I thought for sure there’d be a spike, or a jolt, or something. It doesn’t seem to have been affected at all.”

  “I tried telling you that you were looking at this wormhole all wrong,” Roc said. “You wanna talk about whether something is there or not, you should start with one of those. It’s so quantum I can’t stand it. Gives me little computer shivers.”

  “What about the bruise effects on this side?”

  “I’d say nominal. They’re spreading out before us this time, so we’re riding the wave rather than meeting it head-on. Much smoother that way.”

  Gap raised an eyebrow. “And our companions?”

  “Right there alongside us. I’m sure they’ll stick to us like dog hair all the way through the debris ring. We have the magic ticket, remember, courtesy of Mr. Grumpy Pants with the orange peepers.”

  This finally induced a chuckle from Gap. “I’d hate to hear your nickname for me when I’m not around.”

  “It’s Mr. Sloppy Socks. By the way, comb your hair because you have a Council meeting in one hour.”

  The smile stayed on Gap’s face as he worked his way around the various data panels in the section. By the time he finished his inspection, a handful of Engineering workers came through the door, ready to take up their assignments. Gap spent a few minutes talking with most of them, then walked to the lift at the end of the hall. As much as he dreaded it, he’d have to incorporate a stop at Sick House to get his finger wrapped before the meeting.

  25

  Chewing on an energy block, Triana finished dressing. The quick shower had been glorious, and she felt a surge of energy running through her body. In twenty minutes she and the Council would get the layout for their new home star system, and she was eager to hear it.

  The near-deadly brush with the stowaway/saboteur seemed a lifetime ago.

  She sat at her desk, brushing her hair with one hand while opening her mail file with the other. A few department reports began trickling in as life on the ship accelerated back to normal. There was a personal note from Channy that brought a smile; Galahad’s firefly appeared to have found her spark again. And Gap delivered good news in the form of a clean status report from Engineering.

  Her eye drifted down the page until she spotted the notice of a video message. It was the recording from Dr. Zimmer. Ashamed that she’d forgotten her mentor and father-figure, she opened the file.

  Triana stiffened and almost looked away when the image materialized. The evidence of Bhaktul’s cruelty was frightful. This once-proud scientist, the man who had dedicated the final years of his life to ensuring the safety and survival of 251 teenagers, looked gaunt and defeated. It seemed difficult for him to keep his head steady. His eyes, which once sparkled with wit and enthusiasm when addressing his young charges, were now pools of sadness. Through the obvious pain and embarrassment, Dr. Zimmer did his best to put on a brave front. He managed a shaky smile.

  “I’ll have to make this quick,” he said, his voice feeble. “I’m going out dancing in a few minutes, and I can’t keep the ladies waiting.”

  In spite of the crushing sadness she felt, Triana found herself laughing at the dying scientist’s charm.

  “My original plan was to have enough of these personal messages to last the duration of your journey, but it’s beginning to look as if that won’t be possible.” He turned away from the camera and coughed. From the sound and the intensity—his body contorted under the strain—Triana knew that he suffered excruciating pain. She felt more tears form in the corners of her eyes, and her breathing became choppy.

  When he turned back, he held a bloodied handkerchief to his mouth. After composing himself, and blinking away his own tears, he struggled ahead.

  “There’s so much I want to tell you, so many things that might help as you grow into the magnificent young woman that you’re becoming.” He gave a wry smile. “I guess I do feel like your second father at times. I feel like I should be there to look out for you. But, of course, you don’t really need that.”

  He coughed again, not as violently this time, but it still racked him with pain. He wiped at his eyes again.

  “I suppose one thing that I could leave you with is a piece of advice that my grandmother shared with me when I was about your age. She was a sweet, gentle woman; how she managed to live all those years with my cantankerous old grandfather, I’ll never understand. I think it somehow was her nature to care for someone and help to smooth out their jagged edges. She certainly did that.

  “I don’t remember her making too many speeches. It took very few words for my grandmother to make a point. But once, when it was just she and I alone in her kitchen, and I was rambling on about the constant moving that my family…”

  Dr. Zimmer seemed to choke on something, and left the picture. Triana heard him in pain, off to the side, and it caused a fresh round of tears. She wanted to reach through the screen, and across time, to comfort the man who had long been dead. For although only a single year had passed aboard Galahad, their ever-increasing speed meant that time dilation was in effect, and the Earth would have aged many years.

  A moment later Zimmer once again slid into his chair and gave an apologetic smile. “My grandmother listened to me complain about how often my parents and I moved. My father was a sales troubleshooter, a hired specialist for several large companies, so we were always moving. I went to seven different schools before finishing ninth grade, and I used that as an excuse for so many things. I remember telling my grandmother that I wished we could just have a home.

  “Well, she waited until I ran out of steam. Then she said: ‘I see that you mistake the walls and the furniture for the home.’” He gave a shrug. “For the next couple of minutes she went about her business in the kitchen while she let me stew on that. Then she came over to me and placed her hand on my chest. She said: ‘You build your home right here, Wallace. It’s not made of bricks and roofing tiles. It’s made of love for your family, and it goes wherever you go.’

  “From that point on, I looked at my life—every aspect of it—in a new light. It changed the way I approached my schoolwork, it changed my attitude about each town I lived in, and it helped to make me a better man. It especially helped me when I began teaching, when it seemed like each town melted into the next. Two years at Michigan, two in Europe, three years at Caltech, then another year overseas and a year at MIT, all before I settled here. I made sure that the days didn’t become a blur, and I learned to find something—anything—from each place that I could hold on to, that I could appreciate. I left things behind in many of these places that I carry around today in my heart.”

  He leaned forward. “Because that, Triana, is what it will always come down to. You’ll realize that your home isn’t in Colorado, and your home isn’t on some untamed planet around Eos.” He tapped his chest. “Your home is built around you, your friends, and your next family.” Another sad smile developed on his face as he leaned back again. “Don’t look at Eos through the eyes of a settler. Look at it through the eyes of a strong, confident young woman. One who is at home wherever she lands in life. That will give you power beyond belief.”

  Triana sensed that his time had ended and, f
rom his expression, he had, too. He bravely fought off a coughing spasm and, with a determined look, gave her one final smile. “I love you, Tree,” he said, holding up a hand to the camera.

  Now her tears were accompanied by sound. She cried out loud, holding her hand up to press against the image of his. “I love you, too,” she said, her vision blurring.

  A moment later the screen faded to black. Triana left her hand in place for a full minute, staring into the dark glass which now bounced a faint reflection of her tearstained face back at her.

  His words had mass. Like her flesh-and-blood father, Dr. Zimmer always managed to convey messages that penetrated deeply and took hold at her core. She resolved to make sure his final words weren’t in vain.

  The Council meeting was almost upon her. She walked across to her mirror and worried over the puffiness she saw staring back, splashing cold water on her face, then dabbing it with a towel. She concentrated on her breathing as she stared at the image, repeating Dr. Zimmer’s words from memory, rededicating herself to live up to his expectations of her.

  His words were powerful. But …

  But there was something else in his message that gave her an odd feeling. Something that he’d said was ringing in her subconscious, trying to get her attention. What was it? What had he said?

  It was time to go. She turned to leave her room, her mind still sifting through the words of her mentor, trying to identify the cause of this new chill.

  26

  Per their new custom, Galahad’s Council members congregated in the hallway outside the Conference Room, making small talk before their scheduled meeting. Channy was her old self, which pleased Triana and gave her renewed hope in their mission. Iris hung over Channy’s shoulder like an infant, stoically tolerating the treatment because it included a generous scratching of the ears. The cat’s eyes blinked shut while she purred, opening only to examine a crew member who passed in the hall. For the only pet on a ship of two-hundred-plus teenagers, life was good.

  Triana felt like tons of weight had fallen from her shoulders. True, they still had two weeks of travel time ahead of them, including a mad dash through the Kuiper-like debris on the outskirts of the Eos system. But literally years of travel had been shaved off their mission, which was just fine with the Council Leader. In her mind, the crew of Galahad had dealt with more than a mission’s worth of danger and sorrow. As she stood in the corridor, reclining against the gently curved walls, she felt better than she had in months.

  Channy babbled away at Bon who, strangely enough, seemed to actually be listening. More than once he nodded his head, and at one point even volunteered a comment. Triana stared, wide-eyed. Strange days, indeed.

  Of the four Council members, Gap seemed the most withdrawn. He’d quietly greeted everyone with a casual hello, accepting Channy’s teasing about his taped finger with a polite smile. Triana presumed that Hannah was at the heart of his melancholy. Theirs had been a choppy relationship, but losing her—even if only temporarily—was enough to siphon away much of his natural passion for life. It was obvious: he missed her.

  “Let’s go in and get started,” Triana said.

  “Without Lita?” Channy said.

  “She left a message saying something came up in Sick House, and she’d be late.”

  “Someone sick from the jump?”

  Triana shrugged. “Didn’t say. C’mon, we’ll catch her up, or she can follow on the tripcast. I’m gonna let the crew listen in this time if they want, because we’re going to cover what lies ahead.”

  The group filed into the Conference Room and took their usual seats. After brief departmental reports, Triana opened up the meeting to the rest of the crew. It could be accessed throughout the ship over the vidscreens.

  “Roc,” she said, “let’s have your report on the star system.”

  “The planets themselves are interesting, but let’s deal with the star first. On the old-school H-R diagram, Eos is a class G star, which means it’s similar to the sun. It’s a little older, however, which means in about three billion years it’ll run out of gas, and you’ll have to find a new place to plant your petunias.”

  “Like the jellyfish did when their star died of old age, right?” Channy said.

  “Gold star for Ms. Oakland,” Roc said. “Otherwise, Eos seems rather stable, and looks to be in good health. Nothing special to report. But the planets … that’s a different story.

  “Eos has a total of seven primary planets in its stable, and a handful of dwarf planets that meander in the background. The two inner planets could best be compared to our planet Mercury: they’re small, rocky, and not very pleasant. Of these, number two seems to have had some history of an atmosphere, but it’s long been blown away.

  “I’ll come back to three and four, since they’re the ones you’re most interested in. Planet five is similar to Jupiter, but even larger. It’s a big ball of gas, but that’s where the comparison to Gap ends.”

  Proving that he wasn’t completely depressed, Gap gave a smile and said: “Get on with it, you box of bolts.”

  “Planet six will be every girl’s favorite,” Roc said.

  Channy perked up. “Why?”

  “Because it’s pink.”

  “Hey, that’s fantastic!” Channy said. “A pink planet! Can we swing by to take some pictures?”

  “Sadly, our course won’t take us anywhere near number six,” Roc said. “You’ll just have to schedule a field trip another time.”

  Triana was surprised to see Bon speak up from the end of the table. “Tell me about number seven,” he said.

  “Why don’t you tell us about number seven, Bon?” Roc said.

  The Swede tapped his finger on the table, staring at the graphic that Roc displayed on the vidscreen. His intensity level seemed to have shot up.

  “What is it, Bon?” Triana said. “Do you know something about this planet?”

  Bon kept his eyes on the vidscreen, but finally answered. “That’s where the Cassini have their outpost in this system. On one of its moons.”

  It shouldn’t have come as a shock. If what Bon had told her earlier was true, then the Cassini had been present since the beginning of the universe. In fact, he’d said since before the beginning. How had he put it? They came from outside.

  They’d be everywhere. If they’d discreetly camped out on Saturn’s moon, Titan, since the birth of the solar system, there was no reason to think they wouldn’t be occupying Eosian space as well.

  “I can’t confirm Bon’s announcement,” Roc said, “but he’s the one with that particular walkie-talkie and the creepy eyes. All I can tell you is that number seven is a gas giant, with at least forty-five moons, and an orbit that is slightly off the elliptical plane. Beyond seven is a huge empty gap of space before you reach the poor, misunderstood dwarf planets.”

  “Okay,” Triana said, imagining the crew watching and listening throughout the ship. She knew what they wanted to hear. “Tell us about three and four.”

  “Eos Number Three is, as we expected, fairly rugged and mountainous. The atmosphere is breathable; perhaps a bit more oxygen than you’re used to, but you’re adaptable, aren’t you? The poles, like Earth, are icy and snow packed. We’ll know more about the weather as we study it, but it seems quite manageable.

  “And then there’s Eos Number Four. It’s a watery world, that’s for sure. Eighty percent of the surface is covered by ocean or lake—and there are some gigantic lakes, I might add. The land is concentrated near the equator, and there’s evidence of some pretty extreme seismic activity. Eos Four is habitable, but more of a challenge, let’s say. The ancient civilization that Torrec referenced might have been shaken out of existence by the quakes.”

  Triana considered the information and gazed at her fellow Council members. Each appeared to be deep in thought, probably imagining the pros and cons of each planet for establishing a human colony.

  “I don’t want to sway anyone’s thought process,” Triana said, “bu
t it seems that number three would be our best bet. Water, but not too much, a more stable environment, and a warmer climate. Thoughts?”

  “Three,” Bon said, without hesitation. “An obvious abundance of fertile soil.”

  Channy grinned. “Oh, definitely three. As much as I’m gonna torture all of you with workouts, you’re gonna need the extra air.”

  Triana looked at Gap, who seemed to take his time, weighing the options. Finally he said: “We could make either work, I’m sure. But I’m inclined to vote with the Council. Let me ask you something, though. What’s the policy if some crew members want to go with number four?”

  “That’s a great question,” Triana said. “I think the worst thing we could do would be to split our resources. Plus, there’s the issue of what’s lying down there in the Storage Sections. How do we divide the crew members in suspended animation? Or the embryos?”

  Gap looked pensive. “I don’t know. I’m just wondering, that’s all, because it might come up.”

  Triana mulled this over, biting her lip. Then she leaned on the table and addressed the crew listening throughout the ship. “I’m going to leave this open for now. I’m assuming that the majority of you will opt to stay with the main contingent on Eos Three. But, should there be some of you with a taste for danger, and you have a reasonable argument for establishing a base on Four, I’ll listen to what you have to say. There’s not much time, however. Roc, what’s our exact timetable?”

  “Nine days on cruise control, gently using reverse power to cut our speed. Then we’ll use the atmosphere of the massive giant, planet number five, for a braking maneuver. After that we’ll swing around the far side of Eos, and then it’s back through much of the system again, each time using the drag of the planets’ gravitational pull to throw out an anchor. Assuming our final destination is Eos Three, it’s not out of the question to swing around the fourth planet a second time as part of the braking. If someone wanted to get off, you could make up a few sandwiches and send them on their way.”