by Dom Testa
“The color is basically the same, that same jet-black, only here it’s also got some streaks of yellow that run through it. Thousands of little hairs, or fibers, or something; I’m guessing that’s what it uses to grip on to the ship. They’re arranged in rows, or grids. More like tens of thousands, actually.
“If you’ve got a camera shot that’s working, zero in on the middle of this thing. I’m no biologist, but that looks very similar to a … a mouth, wouldn’t you say?”
Mira had crept up beside him. She knelt down and scooted closer to the window. “It’s some kind of hollow opening,” she said quietly.
Gap laughed. “Um, I don’t think it can hear you out in space. You don’t have to whisper.”
She turned and looked at him with a smirk. “I’m not taking any chances.”
Gap addressed Triana again. “Yeah, it’s hollow, about five or six inches in diameter. Looks like some sort of valve at the core, but it’s not moving. No sign of the vents that we saw on the top side. But…” His voice dropped off.
Now he knelt beside Mira and moved within a few inches of the window. “The light that we saw coming from them; here’s the source.” He craned his neck to look up through the glass. “It’s not some sort of eye, or gland. It’s the … the skin, or whatever it is. Here, near the edges, small sections just … light up.” He pointed it out to Mira. “Do you see that?”
She nodded. “Thin stretches, about an inch wide or so. There’s no break in the skin or any other marking. Just small strips around the edges that emit color, on and off, like a beacon.” She looked back at Gap. “It’s like a living pulse.”
He studied her face. “But is it alive?”
Triana spoke up. “We can’t leave you guys out there much longer. Any way to try to peel it off the Spider?”
Gap stood up and stepped back from the window. He thought for a moment, then let out a long breath. “We might be able to turn the arms back onto the ship. But I’m willing to bet that it won’t let go of the Spider any easier than it did the ship. Why not just drive it into the Spider bay?”
Mira’s mouth fell open. “You mean without putting it in the container? Just bring it into the ship, attached to the window?”
Gap shrugged. “Might as well. Once we get it trapped in the bay we should be able to figure out a way to capture it. The longer we wait out here the more we’re giving it the chance to get bored with us and fly away.”
“I hate to agree with Gap,” Roc said, “which is the understatement of the year; but I do believe he’s right. Besides, what other choice do we really have?”
Silence greeted this statement, and Gap could picture Triana biting her lip as she considered the possibility. Finally, her voice came through: “All right. Come on in. But we’ll have to get this thing into the box as soon as possible; there’s no telling what the ship’s environment will do to it.”
Mira and Gap exchanged a look, then climbed slowly back into their seats, the forbidding silhouette of the vulture hanging over them, mere feet away. Gap gently swung the Spider around, keeping an eye on the vulture as he worked the controls. Mira retracted and stowed the arms, preparing all systems for docking. In a few minutes they approached the bay doors.
“Ready or not, here we come,” Gap said.
He relinquished control back to Roc, then sat back as the Spider glided through the opening and came to rest in the bay. The vulture never budged.
And it was now inside Galahad.
Behind them, the outer bay door closed. “Pressurizing,” Roc said.
Gap watched the vidscreen as it displayed the atmospheric conditions within the bay. He glanced at Mira. “Now all we have to do is figure out how to get this thing off the Spider. I don’t know if we brought a cattle prod along on this—”
A flash of light cut him off. The vulture’s wings spread out as if it was preparing for flight. Then, without warning, it slipped a few inches down the windshield, and fell straight down, out of view.
Gap and Mira sat stunned. “Uh…” he said to the intercom. “Anybody want to tell us what just happened?”
After a moment of hesitation, Triana answered: “Our guest just fell off the Spider. It didn’t fly; it fell. It’s lying in a heap on the floor of the bay.”
13
Channy sat before the mirror in her room, looking closely at her face, trying desperately to not pick out every imperfection. Her gaze drifted from her eyes, to her nose, to her teeth, back to her eyes, the slight blemishes in the chocolate hue of her skin, then to her hair. She turned her head one way, then the other, catching her reflection in the corner of her eyes. After a few moments of inspection she put her elbows on the counter and leaned her chin on her hands.
“Not exactly a natural beauty, am I?” she said.
Kylie, sitting on her bed across the room, set down the clothes that she was folding and scowled across at her roommate. “Excuse me?”
“I mean, I’m not even properly proportioned. Look at the space between my nose and my mouth.”
“I don’t believe what I’m hearing,” Kylie said. “The space between your nose and your mouth; you’re joking, right?”
“I had a chance to get my teeth fixed properly about a year before we left,” Channy said. “Now I wish I’d done it. That was stupid, wasn’t it?”
Kylie went back to folding her shirts. “I’m not having this conversation with you, Ms. Oakland. You sound ridiculous.”
“That’s because you don’t have to look at it in the mirror every day.” Channy sat back and sighed. “I’m sure that Taresh sees all of it.”
She grunted as a wadded-up shirt hit her in the back of the head. Turning, she saw that Kylie had reloaded, and was preparing to throw another one at her.
“What are you doing?” she said.
“If I was closer I would have thumped you with my hand,” Kylie said. “Taresh most certainly does not see anything wrong with you, and you know that.”
“Well, then he doesn’t see anything right with me, either.”
Kylie crossed her arms. “You’re sounding pathetic, Channy. You told me what he said; he’s having an issue with cultural differences, not your looks.”
Channy snorted. “Cultural differences. Whoever heard of such a thing?” She turned back to the mirror and inspected her face again.
“Okay, I’ve known you for a long time now,” Kylie said. “You have never been this way before. What happened to the happy, fun-loving roomie that I was lucky enough to get?”
“She fell in love,” Channy said in a low voice. In the mirror she made eye contact with Kylie. “There, is that what you wanted to know?”
Kylie set down the shirt she had bunched in her hand. “In love? Channy, slow down a moment, okay? You might be infatuated right now, but it’s probably a little soon to say that you’re in love. I mean, you hardly know him.”
“I know enough.”
“No, you don’t. You’ve spent a few hours with him after Game Nights, and talked a little bit. But you don’t really know him.”
“And how much exactly do I need to know before I can have feelings?” Channy blurted out. “Why is everyone else on this ship allowed to be happy with someone, but not me? Answer that!”
Kylie settled back on her bed and let the silence between them grow for a while. When she responded, her voice was gentle.
“Channy, let me ask you something. I’m not trying to pry into your past, or your personal life. But … how many boyfriends have you had?”
Channy didn’t answer. Instead, she got up and walked over to her bed and stretched out, her hands behind her head, staring at the ceiling.
“You haven’t had a boyfriend before, have you?” Kylie said softly. She waited a moment, then walked over to her friend and sat on the edge of the bed. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not trying to be mean, I’m just trying to make a point. This is new territory for you, just like it is for everyone at some point. And it’s scary sometimes.”
Chan
ny nodded, stole a quick glance at Kylie, then looked away. Her eyes began to water.
“All I’m saying,” Kylie said, “is that you might want to take it easy. Not because what you’re feeling is wrong, and not because you and Taresh might not be right for each other. But you should slow down because this is all new for you, and you’re a little out of control.”
“I’m not out of control,” Channy whispered.
Kylie smiled. “Uh, you just criticized the space between your nose and your mouth.”
Channy looked back at her again, but this time let the gaze linger, long enough to convey to her friend that she was in no mood to joke. Then she rolled onto her side, her back to Kylie. “I don’t feel like talking about this anymore.”
“I’m not trying to embarrass you, or hurt you,” Kylie said. “I’m trying to help.”
“I know you are.”
There was an awkward moment of silence, then Kylie perked up. “I’m going to get something to eat in just a minute. Wanna go with me? We could—”
“No, I’m not hungry,” Channy interrupted. “But you should go. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay,” Kylie said. She stood up and took a step back toward her bed before turning around. “Listen, at least think about what I said. Things might work out fine for you two, or they might not. But you need to trust that what he’s telling you is the truth. If he thought you were hideous, he wouldn’t hang out with you so much. I’m sure he really likes you, Channy. But let him work this out.”
When there was no response, she walked out of the room, leaving the rest of her laundry on the bed, and her roommate curled up, staring at the wall.
* * *
The Spider’s hatch had opened, but Gap was in no hurry to rush out. At the opposite end of the craft, crumpled on the floor of the bay, was a three-foot-wide alien being. Its status as life form or robotic vehicle seemed unimportant at the moment; what mattered was the fact that it had the ability to move at lightning speed, and once it grasped something, it was almost impossible to pry loose.
Mira stood behind Gap, one hand resting on his shoulder in a gesture that made it clear she would have no problem using him as a shield. They both craned their necks through the opening, looking down and around to see if anything had scuttled over to this end of the Spider, but the floor was clear.
Gap called out to Roc. “Any sign of movement since it jumped off?”
“There was no jumping involved,” the computer said. “It fell, no control whatsoever. Dropped like a rock and landed hard. And no, it hasn’t moved a muscle … or pulley, or whatever it uses inside. It’s just lying there. In fact, it almost looks like a puppy, kinda cute, all nestled up in a ball, like it’s tuckered out and needs a good nap. Of course, I still wouldn’t pet it, even if I had arms.”
Triana’s voice rang out from the bay’s speaker system. “Gap, Mira, just hold tight for a minute. Don’t climb down. I’ve got help coming your way.”
“What kind of help?” Gap said.
“Two crew members are gearing up right now in EVA suits. I recommend you do the same before you step out. I know the atmosphere is fine, but every bit of protection helps.”
Gap pulled back from the hatch and keyed open one of the storage bins. A handful of specially equipped space suits hung there.
“Don’t know if these will do any good,” he muttered to Mira, “but she’s right; probably better than nothing.”
Five minutes later they were giving each other a quick visual scan to make certain that everything was secure: suits, gloves, boots, and helmets were checked and rechecked before they nodded through their visors at each other. Gap heard Mira’s voice in his ear through the intercom system.
“Should we still wait?”
“Probably,” he said. “Not that I want to gang up on the thing, but I’d feel safer with numbers on our side. Easier to surround it.”
“I’m okay with that,” she said. “This is turning out to be quite an assignment.”
They caught sight of movement through the glass of the control room, and looked over to see a handful of crew members milling around inside. Two of them wore EVA suits; they waved at Gap and Mira, then made their way into the bay and cautiously approached the Spider. Gap saw that they were each clutching portable grappling arms, similar to those on the Spider. He addressed them by name—Mitch and Zhenta—and made sure that proper introductions were made with Mira.
Zhenta, whose parents were originally from Egypt, indicated the front of the Spider. “What’s the plan?”
Gap peered through her faceplate. “First, we remove the container box, and get it just as close as we can. Then, we close in from all four sides, and you and Mitch grab the … thing. Should be a lot easier than when Mira tried it.”
“Okay. Let’s go bag a creature,” Mitch said.
Gap took a deep breath—he could almost sense the others doing the same—and together they rounded the corner of the Spider and began to stride toward the front side. They paused at the far corner, then Gap took the lead and peered around the edge of the metal craft.
There, about ten feet away, lay the vulture. Even in this vulnerable position, crumpled and at awkward angles, it still struck Gap as an imposing force. The deep black seemed like ink, an unnatural darkness, while a small glimpse of its yellow streaks provided a brilliant contrast and a fierce, aggressive aura. It gave every indication of being either dead, unconscious, or offline; the throbbing bright blue-green color from its edges was missing, and the vents that had at least mimicked breathing were motionless.
And yet, the vulture still radiated danger in a manner that Gap couldn’t justify. He simply understood, on some level, that although it might be dead, he wasn’t about to go up and kick it.
He also knew that he was the leader of this small group, and it was up to him to make the first move. With a silent wave of his hand, he took a few steps toward the creature and sensed the others following him. Within his helmet the sound of his breathing was loud, almost distracting. He never took his eyes from the vulture; the image of it bursting from Galahad’s hull onto the Spider replayed in his mind. His rational side told him that with its speed, two feet away, ten feet away, or thirty feet away would make no difference; but his instinctual fears still caused him to almost tiptoe as he approached. Now, as he stood above it, he felt his heart racing, and his breathing intensified.
He directed Mitch and Mira toward the polyglass container that was still attached to the Spider’s arm. In three minutes they had removed it and, with its door still open, placed it—gently—on the floor beside the vulture.
Then the four of them gathered around and stared down at the motionless mass. It certainly seemed dead, and Gap immediately began trying to process what might have happened. The temperature? The atmospheric pressure? The artificial gravity?
He shook his head and exhaled. There was no time for this right now; it would be Lita’s job to answer those questions, and it was his job to get the specimen to her.
“Okay,” he said softly. “Let’s do it.”
Zhenta extended her portable grappling arm toward the vulture, and was able to slide it under one side. She pushed a little harder, then harder still, until at last the creature appeared to budge. “Ugh, it’s heavy,” she said. “We might need to have two people on each arm.”
Gap reached over and helped her with supporting the arm. At the same time, from the opposite side, Mitch duplicated Zhenta’s actions. A few seconds later he had a firm grip on the vulture, with Mira lending a hand.
“Are we good so far?” Gap said, looking at the group. “On three. Very gently, right? One … two … three.”
Straining, and putting their leg muscles into it, the four crew members slowly lifted the vulture from the Spider bay floor. The strong and sturdy grappling arms swayed under the mass, but they managed to raise it a foot off the ground. “Okay, let’s get it inside,” Gap said, and they began to rotate toward the box.
One o
f the vulture’s wings shifted, causing the group to suddenly stop and gasp, but they quickly realized that it was simply a result of the movement.
Mira laughed softly. “We’re jumpy.”
“For good reason,” Gap said with a grin.
They lowered it into the polyglass container. One wing was hung up on an edge of the box; Zhenta removed her grappling arm and gently maneuvered the wing down inside.
Gap exhaled loudly. “Whew, good job. Okay, Roc, seal that sucker up.”
The container’s opening slid shut. Immediately a yellow light began to blink on a side panel, indicating that a seal had been achieved. It would take a few minutes before a vacuum was achieved inside, and the atmosphere and temperature adjusted.
“Did someone order a vulture in a box?” Gap said over the intercom in his helmet.
“Nice work, you guys,” Triana said. “Let’s roll a cart in there and you can move it up to Sick House. Lita’s expecting you. Then, Gap, if you and Mira would stop by the Control Room, please.”
“On our way,” he said.
Twenty minutes later, he and Mira entered the Control Room to a small round of applause from the crew members working there. Triana beamed at them and clapped Mira on the shoulder.
“Just another day at the office?”
“Oh, sure,” Mira said with a laugh. “Pretty boring day.”
“Knowing Lita, I’ll bet she’s excited to get started,” Triana said to Gap.
He nodded. “Yeah, she was like a little kid anxious to open birthday presents. She practically fogged up the outside of the box with her face right up against it.”
Triana said, “I want to go over things with you, and get any thoughts you might have about what you saw.”
“I have a question,” Mira said. “After the dome vulture came at us, did any of the other ones react? Are they still in the same position, or did they move?”
“No changes,” Triana said. “We have cameras positioned on all of them now, and there was no movement. There was, however, a reaction.”
“Let me guess,” Gap said. “The lights.”
“Yep. As soon as the drama started with you guys, they all lit up a little more. But especially our squadron leader. There was practically a symphony of light coming from him.”