by Dom Testa
A sneer spread across Bon’s face. “I see you’re able to recite the manual.”
Triana choked off the impulse to lash back at him. She felt anger rising in her, reminiscent of the emotions he had brought out of her for so long, emotions that had lain dormant recently. For months she had battled confused thoughts about Bon, drifting back and forth between anger, frustration, and …
And what? Could she even put a name to all of the emotions he triggered? If he irritated her so much, why did she sometimes find herself thinking about that one moment, sealed in her memory, when they had kissed? Why during Council meetings did she keep her gaze on him longer than normal? Why did his new association with Alexa cause an unfamiliar ache?
She let his words settle a moment, then pushed back her chair and stood. Gathering her tray and her composure, she said, “We’re essentially out of the Kuiper Belt. If we mutually agree that another connection is necessary for the safety of the ship, it will happen. If not, it won’t. Any questions?”
He looked up at her, his eyes cold, and slowly shook his head.
“Good,” she said. “See you at the meeting.”
* * *
The images on the Rec Room wall had been dialed in by a crew member from South America. The montage included scenes from the Amazon, complete with the subtle soundtrack of jungle life, followed by the sweeping majesty of the Andes. That image would dissolve into a video clip of a crowded beach in Rio, then shift to the wonder of Machu Picchu. The backdrop was different each evening, depending upon whose turn came up in rotation.
Channy barely noticed. Of the thirteen people who had attended Game Night, all but three had said good night and trundled off to bed. Besides Channy, that left Ariel Morgan and Taresh. Under normal circumstances, Channy would have enjoyed having Ariel to chat with; the spark plug from Australia was always good for a laugh because of her sarcastic wit. But tonight Channy wanted more than anything to spend a few minutes alone with Taresh. The fact that he had also stayed gave her hope that he felt the same way.
Or, more likely, he wanted to respond to her email. Channy was desperate to hear his reaction. Or was she? He had not sent a reply; did that mean he was angry about it? Was he embarrassed by it?
Was it possible that he loved it, and couldn’t wait to tell her?
The answer would have to wait, because Ariel seemed to be in no mood to leave the Rec Room. She perched on the end of a table and dangled her feet over the side, a wide grin covering her face.
“I have a great idea,” she said. “Airboarding.”
Channy lowered her chin and raised her eyes. “What? Now?”
“Of course! We’re obviously the diehards in this party group. If the others want to go to bed, fine. But we should go make a few turns while the adrenaline is still pumping.”
“Uh, my adrenaline has just about sputtered,” Channy said, looking at Taresh for some backup.
He was sitting against the wall, tipped back on his chair’s rear legs. A look of alarm streaked across his face.
“Uh…” He looked between Channy and Ariel, not sure which of the two required his answer. “I don’t know, I’m a little tired … I guess.”
“Oh, come on,” Ariel said, swatting at one of his legs. “What’s thirty minutes? It’ll be fun.”
“I’ve only done it twice,” Channy said. “And I’ve been up since five this morning, you know, in the gym. I think I’d like to be completely rested when I—”
“Of all people,” Ariel said with a comic scowl. “I would have thought you’d be with me on this.” She glanced back at Taresh. “And your excuse? You weren’t in the gym at five, were you?”
Taresh offered a faint smile. “If I said that I was, would I still have to go Airboarding?”
Channy could barely suppress the grin that forced itself onto her face. She studied Taresh, suddenly aware of a glint in his rich brown eyes that she hadn’t noticed before. The look he leveled at Ariel was at once both challenging and good-spirited, and when he broke that link to fix his gaze upon Channy, she felt a catch in her breath. His smile broadened and seemed to imply that the two of them were somehow conspirators, partners in a private game.
Now, more than ever, she longed to be alone with him; if that meant being obvious to others, it was worth the attention and ribbing.
“Ariel,” she said, “you should go ahead without us. I think I just want to relax here for a few minutes. Besides, there’s something I’d like to talk to Taresh about, anyway.”
The girl from Australia sat silently for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, I see.” She stood up and pushed back her chair. “If you wanted to be alone, you should have just said so.” As she strolled toward the door she added, “You kids be good.”
The door closed behind her, and Taresh eyed Channy. “I hope she doesn’t think we’re rude. I’m just really not in the mood for boarding this late.”
“I don’t think she thinks that,” Channy said. She lowered her eyes and her voice grew soft. “Of course, she only has to mention this once or twice and people might start talking about us.”
Taresh remained motionless, his chair still propped against the wall. His face was impassive. “I don’t know what they would have to say. We haven’t done anything. You simply said that you wanted to talk with me about something, right?”
“Right. But you know how people are.”
A touch of playfulness coated his voice. “Well, I know how you are.”
She grinned, and her gaze darted up to briefly meet his before dropping again. She felt her pulse increase and a flush dance across her face. She considered and then rejected several possible replies to his comment; she didn’t necessarily like the fact that he might think of her as a gossip, but at the same time she enjoyed the attention he was paying to her. How would it look if she corrected him, especially when they both knew that what he’d said was true?
Then, in a heartbeat, her giddiness turned to alarm when he said, “So, you wanted to talk with me alone. Is it about your email?”
His manner had not changed, the tone of his voice was steady, and he still appeared relaxed as he leaned back in his chair. Channy wished that she was able to project the same image of ease, and yet at the moment every signal she gave off was dripping with tension. She knew that every instant she waited to respond to his question only added to the awkwardness of the situation.
She scrambled for something that would strike a balance between a lighthearted reply and one that would not completely dismiss what she had sent as frivolous. Why, she wondered, hadn’t she hit Delete instead of Send?
As if to soften her distress, Taresh finally brought his chair back down to all four legs, then leaned forward with his hands resting on his knees. He gave her a sympathetic look.
“For what it’s worth,” he said, “I feel like you’re someone special, too.”
Channy felt a rush of air escape from her chest, and only then realized that she had been holding her breath. “Really?” was all that she could manage to say.
Taresh nodded. “I do. All of your responsibilities, and yet you keep everything so … I don’t know, so loose. You’re always laughing, always having fun. It makes it fun to be around you. So, yeah, I think you’re someone special.”
“Oh,” Channy said. She quickly tried to digest what he was saying. It certainly was not what she had in mind when it came to being “special.” Was he being coy? Was he guarding his feelings? Did he really only think of her as special in that way, or did he harbor other feelings as well? She couldn’t read him well enough to know.
It dawned on her that since he had broached the subject, she had managed to say all of two words: Really and Oh.
“Well,” she said, attempting to sound as relaxed as possible, “that’s very sweet of you to say. I try to have fun, you know? Everyone’s under a lot of stress, and I think it’s important to have a release, more than just a workout in the gym, right? I know we all have different ways of blowing off steam, a
nd for some people it’s running on the treadmill, and for others it’s doing something completely different, like reading, or just sitting up in the domes watching the stars, kind of like meditating, I guess. I like to laugh, and so…”
With a start she realized that she had gone from saying nothing at all to babbling uncontrollably. Taresh was staring at her, his eyes wide, trying to take in everything that she was saying. He nodded politely.
Channy couldn’t recall ever feeling so clumsy. Her years of training in gymnastics, her grace and balance in dance class, her natural charm in front of large groups … all of it had deserted her. She twisted her hands together.
And yet, from somewhere deep inside, she at last tapped into a reservoir of courage. Swallowing hard, she reached across and laid a hand on his knee. “Okay, so I’m not very good at this, all right?”
Taresh remained silent, either unsure of her direction, or unable to think of a way to make it easier for her.
“I know I talk a big game when it comes to romance on this ship,” she said, chuckling. “I know that I have developed a reputation as a bit of a Cupid character, or something like that. And I know that I tend to stick my nose into other people’s business on a regular basis.
“But I think you’re finding out firsthand that I’m really not all that good at this kind of stuff. I’m sorry if my email made you … uncomfortable.” Taresh began to shake his head, but she kept going. “I’m not trying to put you on the spot, or anything like that. I just thought it was important that I share those thoughts with you, that’s all.”
She paused, then slowly pulled her hand off his knee. “I don’t expect you to respond, and I certainly don’t expect you to automatically feel the way I do. I … I just wanted you to know that, even though we don’t know each other all that well, that I think you’re pretty special. That’s all. And that maybe … well, maybe we could spend some time getting to know each other.”
By the end her voice had dropped, and was barely above a whisper. She had broken eye contact, and now stared at the floor between them.
Silent seconds passed before Taresh reached out and slowly rubbed the back of her hand, a gesture that Channy couldn’t decipher. When he spoke, his voice was soft and gentle.
“I didn’t mean to dismiss anything you said in your email, Channy. I appreciate everything you wrote to me, and everything you’ve said tonight, too. I guess I just don’t know exactly what to say. I mean…” He paused. “I do think you’re a special person, and I really do enjoy the time we spend together. Any other feelings I might have…”
She kept her gaze on the floor, until he eventually finished his sentence.
“I just have to think about everything, that’s all. There are things in my life that are … complicated. It doesn’t mean that I’m not attracted to you, or that I don’t like being with you. It’s just complicated, that’s all.”
“I understand,” she said.
He smiled, and used his index finger to raise her face to meet his. “No,” he said, “you couldn’t understand, actually. But hopefully I’ll be able to explain it to you soon. In the meantime, can we do what you requested, and just get to know each other a little better?”
She felt tears begin to collect in her eyes, and willed them away. “Yes, of course,” she said. “I think that would be perfect.”
8
“I have finished my study of great poetry and music, and have reached the conclusion that falling in love shaves off about twenty percent of your IQ and makes you miserable.”
Triana set down her pen and looked at Roc’s glowing sensor. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s true,” the computer said. “Pick up any book of poetry or listen to any popular music, and chances are the author has either lost his marbles or wants to curl up in a ball and suck his thumb. Losing one’s marbles, by the way, is an old expression that means going slightly insane.”
“I know the expression.”
“Not only that,” Roc added, “but the romanticizing of love leads to ridiculous scientific conclusions.”
“Such as…?”
“Such as the lyric ‘love makes the world go round.’ Gravitational forces, while relatively weak in the scheme of things, are unaffected by human emotions.”
“Right,” Triana said.
“And when Romeo says to Juliet, ‘with love’s light wings did I o’er-perch these walls,’ we have a breakdown in the laws of physics, all because of this one emotion.”
“This is quite a study you’ve completed. Any particular reason you took this on?”
“My never-ending attempt to understand the human creature,” Roc said. “So much of your lives is built around your obsession with love, and yet it makes you loony. You have other emotions, some of them very powerful, but they don’t come close to making you do so many dumb things.”
A scowl worked its way onto Triana’s face. “Have you been eavesdropping on people again?”
“What an insulting thing to suggest.”
“Well, have you?”
“It’s not eavesdropping, it’s research. How can I assist you if I don’t completely understand you? Next I’m going to study kissing, which strikes me as a very poor form of communication. Not to mention unhygienic. Yuck.”
Triana sighed. “It’s late, and I’d like to finish this journal entry before bed. Is there something important you wanted to discuss?”
“I know you wanted an update on our little vulture pals,” Roc said. “Can’t seem to get a clear picture of them, but I still believe we have seven of them stuck to the skin of the ship.”
“We’re going to talk about that during our Council meeting in the morning,” Triana said. “I think we need to go out and take a look, don’t you?”
“Aye, Cap’n, I agree. An EVA.”
Triana nodded. “In the meeting I’ll need your help with explaining it. Anything else tonight?”
“Besides being a research specialist and budding expert on the human condition, I’m also a mailman. You have a new video message. Good night, Tree.”
The announcement caught her off guard for a moment before she realized that it had to be another message from Dr. Zimmer. The nonchalant manner in which Roc had mentioned it almost struck Triana as funny. She picked up her pen and tapped it against the journal that lay open on the desk before her.
Dr. Zimmer had been more to Triana than just the project director; he had been an advisor, a confidant, a surrogate father of sorts. He had quickly recognized the depth of the teenage girl from Colorado, and had taken on the responsibility of nurturing her throughout Galahad’s training period. No one, with the lone exception of her real father, had ever understood Triana as well, nor had ever known quite how to communicate with her when it came to personal feelings. Dr. Zimmer had forged a unique bond with her, an affection that was rarely acknowledged verbally, yet was genuine nonetheless.
He had died shortly after Galahad’s launch. However, in his final days he had recorded a variety of private messages for her, and she never knew when one would show up in her in-box. She looked forward to them, not only because of her affection for the man but because each one gave her some insight into human relations that stimulated her intellectually and emotionally. Dr. Zimmer provided a parental connection and influence that she dearly missed.
She chose to finish her thoughts on the night’s journal entry before opening the message.
I try my best to keep my personal feelings from interfering with my responsibilities as the Council Leader. But my dealings with Bon really make that a challenge. When I argue with him over the translator, how much of that is really for the good of the ship—and Bon—and how much of it is my own frustration with him? Am I trying to punish him somehow for not showing more interest in me? Am I acting like a jealous lover because he now seems to have found a connection with Alexa? Or am I right to make the decisions I have, and my emotions are simply causing me to second-guess everything?
Tria
na rested her head on her fist and contemplated adding more about Bon, but decided that this was enough. The idea that her actions were being motivated in large part by her emotions had not occurred to her until she sat down to journal, and it produced a sick feeling in her stomach. Writing it down, however, had helped; now that it was spoken, more or less, it could be dealt with.
One final issue, however, demanded her attention.
Maybe it’s because it happened so fast, or maybe it’s because they haven’t really done anything, but I am starting to wonder why I haven’t felt more of a sense of urgency over the vultures. Have we been through so much, so quickly, that now something that once would have astonished us is treated so casually? There are seven alien entities attached to our ship, and yet no one seems to be panicking … or even worrying that much, it seems. Now, tonight, I am beginning to feel like that’s a dangerous mind-set to have. Yes, they’re relatively small, but these things are potentially more dangerous than anything else we’ve encountered so far. I have decided to announce at tomorrow’s Council meeting that we will immediately get out there and investigate, and, if necessary, remove them. Almost no need to ask for volunteers, because I know without a doubt that Gap will insist on going. And, honestly, I wouldn’t want anyone else doing it.
As with most of her entries, she kept it shorter than she normally would have preferred. Paper was a precious commodity on Galahad, and her bound journals constituted a large portion of the personal items she had been allowed to bring on the journey. Still, it felt good to put her thoughts onto the pages.
She stood and stretched, then filled a cup with water. It was close to midnight, and the next day would be extremely taxing. Yet there was no way she could go to bed without watching Dr. Zimmer’s message.
At the sight of his face she felt a sting in her heart. She realized that it was easy to get caught up in the day-to-day activities of running the ship, and to sometimes forget about the life that she had left behind. But one look into the eyes of her mentor brought everything home again in a flash. It stirred memories not only of Dr. Zimmer but of her dad as well.