by Dom Testa
“We don’t even know if they’re alive,” Gap said. “We have no idea what these things are.”
“I agree,” Lita said. “That’s why I’m not in favor of just automatically destroying them. We don’t know that they mean us harm, do we?”
“We don’t know that they don’t, either,” Gap said. “But there’s another possibility, too.”
“Which is?”
“I go out in one of the Spiders, grab one, and bring it back for us to study.”
Channy let out a groan. “You want to bring one of those things into the ship? Are you kidding me?”
Gap looked at Lita and then Triana. “I think we have some sort of … I don’t know, a container, or something, that we could put it in. Don’t we?”
Lita’s expression brightened. “That’s right, we do. It’s perfect, because it can actually simulate the conditions of space.” She turned to Triana. “Okay, if we’re talking about capturing one, I think that’s a great idea. Think of the knowledge we could gain from this.”
Channy cut in. “Think of the danger.”
“Of course there’s a risk,” Lita said. “But there’s also a risk if we just leave them out there and don’t learn anything about them.”
“I’m with Roc,” Channy said. “They’re gross, and we shouldn’t bring them inside.”
“I used the word ‘icky,’” the computer said, “but I vote for bagging one. As long as I don’t have to touch it.”
Lita said, “Tree, this is an amazing learning opportunity for us. We might actually get to study an alien life form.”
“What if it’s not life?” Channy said. “What if it’s just a killing machine?”
“That’s a little dramatic, isn’t it?”
“How do we know?”
“If I had a head, I’d have a headache by now,” Roc said. “Can someone turn a hose on these two?”
“Wait a minute,” Triana said. “Everyone take a breath.” She waited until she had the Council’s attention, then leaned back in her chair. “Here’s what we know: these parasites, or vultures, or whatever, can outmaneuver us, and can outrace us. They are either programmed to attach to us, or have some form of intelligence—if they’re alive—that has them curious about us, and they have chosen to hitch a ride. They have been clamped aboard the ship for…” She looked at the clock on one of the room’s vidscreens. “For about sixteen hours. And in that time they haven’t moved, they haven’t eaten their way into the ship; they haven’t done anything that we can tell.
“Here’s what we don’t know: whether they’re sentient beings, whether they’re simple life forms, or whether they’re programmed machines.” Here she paused and looked at the faces staring back at her. “And, we don’t know what they want. So, I think picking one up would at least allow us to find out what they are, and might help us figure out that last part: what they want.”
There was silence for a full minute. Triana bit her lip and, for no reason she could think of, looked down the table at Bon. He was staring back at her. For a moment he seemed completely unreadable, as if unwilling to offer any feedback whatsoever. Then, barely perceptible, he gave a slight nod.
“Our mission is not necessarily one of exploration,” she said. “Our assignment is to safely carry our knowledge and our history to a new world, to start over. To save our species, really.
“And yet, we’re human; we are creatures of discovery. Through the years our path has been a difficult one because we chose to make it that way. We have never taken the easy route, and when we’ve been confronted by the unknown, it quickly becomes our task to make it known.”
She paused a moment, then, tapping her finger on the table, said, “Now we’re confronted with a new mystery. These things, whatever they are, made the first move. I believe the next move is ours.”
A grin spread across Gap’s face. “That’s great. When do I go?”
“I would think as soon as possible,” Triana said. “We don’t know what they’re doing out there, and I really don’t like playing defensively.”
“Someone should probably go with him,” Lita said. “I’ll go.”
Triana shook her head. “No, I won’t have two Council members out there at the same time. But I think someone from the Medical Department might be a good idea.”
Lita looked thoughtful. “Either Alexa or Mira. Mira’s a bit of a go-getter.”
“And I think Alexa has had enough excitement for a while,” Triana said. “Please talk with Mira and get her up to speed.” She turned back to Gap. “Work with Roc on setting up your plan, and let’s shoot for tomorrow morning.”
10
“You never visit me in my office,” Alexa said, staring out of the large picture window near Bon’s desk. Her attention was captured by a small tractor that pulled a flat cart through Dome 1. The cart was laden with what appeared to be bushels of bright red fruit, perhaps strawberries. As she watched, the driver maneuvered a tight turn, then backed the cart up to a loading dock staffed by half a dozen other farmworkers. In seconds the team went to work, lifting the bushels from the cart in a synchronized system that almost resembled military drill precision.
She turned around and leaned on the glass. “No comment?”
Bon stood behind his desk, jabbing at his keyboard. “I try to avoid hospitals at all times. It has nothing to do with you.”
“If you say so.”
He glanced up from his work. “Besides, I thought you liked it up here.”
“Oh, I do. I just thought it would be nice for you to stop by every once in a while, just to say hi.”
“Just to say hi?”
Alexa grinned. “Yeah, well, I guess that’s not really your nature, is it? Okay, never mind.” She nodded toward the door. “C’mon, let’s walk.”
They left the office and made their way down the path that would take them into Dome 2. Neither spoke until they emerged under the canopy of artificial sunlight that simulated early afternoon. A rich medley of smells greeted them, a combination of citrus from the nearest crop and freshly tilled soil from the adjoining lot. Alexa found herself inhaling deeply, enjoying the infusion of natural odors after another morning spent working in recycled air. She rubbed her bare arms, feeling a light coating of moisture from the mist of nearby irrigation.
Bon steered them toward a bench that sat in the shade of some sprawling orange trees.
“Where is everyone?” Alexa said, noting just a few farmworkers scattered in the vicinity. “Usually there’re more people wandering around up here on their breaks.”
“They’re all piled into Dome 1,” Bon said. “That’s where the show is.”
“The show?”
“That thing stuck on the outside of the dome.”
“Oh,” Alexa said, and felt a shiver flash through her. The mere mention of the alien object attached to the ship ushered in a dark sensation, a feeling of dread.
Bon sat down next to her on the bench. “Something wrong?”
She looked past him, her eyes focusing on nothing, and it took a moment for her to answer. “I don’t know. I get a strange feeling about those things.” She shook her head and tried to smile at him. “It’s creepy just thinking about them stuck to the ship like that.”
“Well, you might get to see one up close and personal pretty soon. Gap is going to try to catch one and bring it into Sick House for you guys to study.”
The heavy sense of dread again shook Alexa; she immediately identified it this time as foreboding. She pressed Bon for more details, and he shared what he knew.
“Lita is very excited about the chance to examine it,” he concluded, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “No doubt you’ll be in the middle of it.”
Alexa nodded slowly. “As I should be. I don’t know why I feel like this.” She attempted another smile. “It’s probably nothing. Like I said, just creepy, that’s all.”
They sat in silence for a minute, taking in the sounds and smells of the farm, before she spok
e again. “Is this one of those occasions where you might check in with the Cassini?”
Bon grimaced. “Apparently that’s a subject for debate.” He recounted most of his conversation with Triana.
“So she thinks you’re addicted, is that it?” Alexa said.
“That about sums it up.”
“And…” Alexa hesitated, then pressed on. “Are you?”
Bon turned to look at her. “I expect that from her, not from you.”
She sank back from his glare. “Don’t get angry. It’s a fair question. Remember who you’re talking to here.”
He stood up and paced a few steps, one hand running through his hair. With his back to her he said, “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Triana: I didn’t ask for this. I was chosen.”
Alexa recoiled at this. “Chosen? So now you’ve been chosen? You’ve never said that before.”
“Well, isn’t it true? There are 251 of us on board, and I’m the one who gets tapped to receive this information?”
“Because of a random configuration of your brain. It could have been anyone.”
Bon turned to face her. “A Council member? You think that’s a coincidence?”
She looked up at him. “Bon, are you listening to yourself? The Cassini communicate on a particular wavelength, and it just happens to sync with you. There were a few other crew members who had a touch of it, too, as I recall. Maybe not to the same extent—”
“Fine,” he said. “But the point is, I do have the ability to communicate with them, and so far it’s been pretty helpful.”
Alexa sighed. “Nobody is questioning that. But we also have no idea what it’s doing to you. Don’t tell me the pain spasms are nothing.” After a pause, she added, “And don’t tell me that you can’t see it from my—and Triana’s—perspective. Even your reaction and attitude sounds like the angry denial of an addict.”
“I was waiting for one of you to say that,” he said, his voice low. “That’s a no-win situation for me. If I don’t disagree, then I’m essentially agreeing. And if I disagree, then I’m in denial. Either way supports your argument and leaves me guilty.”
Alexa considered this for a while. “Okay, so I guess we’re at a stalemate here. By your argument there’s nothing I can say, either, without you thinking of it as a trap. So let me ask you a personal question instead, and be honest. Have you lost your fear of the connection?”
“My fear?”
“Yeah. Don’t put on a macho act for me; that connection had to be frightening. Is it still?”
He stared at her, but didn’t answer.
“I’m guessing that the answer is no,” she said. “And if that’s true, think about it. The most powerful alien force we could imagine, potentially doing damage to you, causing intense pain, and leaving you with thoughts and feelings you don’t understand … and you’ve lost your fear of that? That doesn’t tell you anything?”
Bon looked down at his feet, then back to her. “You just don’t understand. It’s not about fear; it’s about information.”
“No,” Alexa said, “it’s about control. They have assumed control over you, and you can’t see it.” He looked away again, and she softened her tone. “Bon, at least acknowledge that the people confronting you on this have valid concerns; Triana is responsible for your safety and the safety of the ship. And I—” She stopped and looked away.
“Yes?” Bon said.
With her eyes still averted she said, “And I care about you, that’s all.”
The tall Swede again ran a hand through his hair, a look of resignation on his face. He walked back to the bench and eased down beside her.
“You’re not fighting fair,” he said softly.
She didn’t answer, and rested her head on his shoulder.
* * *
Gap stared at the game board on the vidscreen before him, perplexed. Only seconds earlier he had been convinced that this time he would finally defeat Roc at a game of Masego. Now, as he scanned the tactical moves instituted by the computer, he realized that he had blundered once again.
“Incredible,” Gap said. “How could I let that happen?”
“Not crossing to the H-line three moves back,” Roc said.
“It was a rhetorical question, thank you.”
“I can never tell with you,” the computer said. “Besides, you once said that you learn something from each loss; I wanted you to learn the value of moving to the H-line when you get the opportunity.”
Gap sat back in his chair and examined the board again. Masego challenged him mentally, and he had enjoyed the competitive element from the first day that fellow crew member Nasha had introduced him to the African game. But it was also a source of great frustration; no matter how much he practiced—or concentrated—he could never get the better of Roc. He shook his head and blew out a breath. “Okay, one more, and then I have to take care of some errands.”
In a flash the vidscreen reset to Masego’s starting pattern. Roc wasted no time making his first move, and said, “I hope you’re better at strategy when you pilot a Spider. There are no do-overs in space.”
Gap considered his first play of the game. “Thanks for your confidence. I’m sure I’ll do fine.” He touched the screen to indicate his move. “Plus, I’ll have you chirping in my ear the whole time, I imagine.”
“I’d better. An EVA requires precise maneuvering. You’re going to be hugging pretty close to the ship; I’d hate to see you knock off a piece that we might need later.”
“I’m not going to knock off anything, except one of those suction monsters.”
They played in silence for a few minutes, each probing, advancing, blocking. The game of strategy required each competitor to think several moves in advance. The din of the Rec Room would often spike, yet Gap maintained his concentration.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Roc said, “I’ve noticed that you haven’t been to the Airboard track in quite a while. Lost interest? Or maybe a little nervous about injuring your shoulder again?”
“You are a nosy thing, aren’t you?”
“So you do mind me asking.”
“No,” Gap said. “If you really want to know, I decided that I was spending too much time there, and not enough time focusing on my job.”
“That’s a shame.”
“What? Being more responsible is a bad thing?”
“No,” Roc said. “That’s good. But your once-deft skills in Airboarding could come in handy if there’s a crisis in the Spider.”
Gap chuckled and touched the screen with a new move. “You are so nervous about this EVA. And never fear, my little mechanical friend, those skills do not go away after a few weeks off. I could hop back onto a board right now and you’d never know I’d been away.”
Roc responded by lighting up the vidscreen with his own move; Gap saw instantly that he was doomed.
“All right,” he said. “I concede. Good game.” He sat back and crossed a leg over a knee. “Okay, since you’re so worried about it, let’s talk about this EVA for a minute. What’s really bothering you about it?”
“Two obvious issues spring to mind,” Roc said. “For one thing, these vultures can flat-out move. They can fly circles around you, and at lightning speed. It’s not like you’ll see one coming; more like it will be in one spot at one moment, then in your face the next.”
“And the other issue?”
“We have lived in a virtual stare-down with them since they intercepted us; neither side has done anything. But the minute we go out there like some space-age exterminator getting rid of bugs, the game changes. If they read it as an attack—which, in essence, it is—then we don’t know what they will do to the Spider or the ship itself.”
Gap scowled. “Wait, they attacked us in the first place.”
“Did they? Would they read it like that? There’s been no damage to the ship; they seem fairly benevolent right now, almost like old-time hobos hitching a ride in a boxcar. But as soon as you start ripping on
e from the skin of the ship they’ll probably not take too kindly.”
“You didn’t say a word about this in the Council meeting,” Gap said.
“Oh, please. I’m not saying anything that anyone else couldn’t have thought of. Besides, I’m still in favor of you going out there; why would I try to talk Triana out of that? You should go. I’m just answering your question, that’s all.”
Gap chewed on this for a minute, then said: “Okay, since it’s just the two of us talking here, tell me what you think these things really are. What am I about to bring inside the ship?”
“I’ve given that a lot of thought,” Roc said. “As fast as they are, as organized as they appear, and as efficient as they seem, I can’t help but feel like they’re the muscle, not the brains.”
“What do you mean?” Gap said.
“Consider what they’re doing. Some alien species wants to patrol the outer ring of our solar system, either looking for a way in, or hoping that something will pop out, like we did. There’s an awful lot of space to manage. You tell me, who’s gonna get that assignment? Not the big dogs, that’s for sure. It’s one of the reasons I’m questioning if these really are alive, or more like semi-intelligent drones.”
“And their job is, what?” Gap said. “To just make contact and call for reinforcements?”
“I don’t think they’ll call anybody here,” Roc said. “Again, this is all guesswork, obviously, but it wouldn’t make sense for a mother ship to be close. I would think these things are probably scattered everywhere, just doing a little reconnaissance. And, if they find something good—like us—then I would think they call it in.”
Gap rocked back in his chair, his hands laced behind his head, and looked up at the ceiling while he thought. Slowly he said, “But a call would take a long time to reach … wherever it was going.”
“I’ve been thinking about that, too,” the computer said. “I have a theory that explains not only how they would speed up that call, but how they move so fast in the first place.”
“Care to share?”
“Not yet. Let me think about it a little more. But if I’m right, they wouldn’t bother to send anyone here when they could just have them meet us along the way.”