Vessel

by Lisa A. Nichols

  Some of the faces she’d seen around JSC. Duffy, she knew, of course, and Cal Morganson, in his role as flight activities director. That ought to be fun, Catherine thought dourly.

  John squeezed her shoulder and brought her in to face the rest of the room. “Y’all know Catherine, I’m sure. Catherine, this is my crew.” He indicated a woman with a close-cropped Afro and a flyboy smirk. “Leah Morrison’s our pilot.” Catherine recognized a kindred spirit right away. She would bet money that Morrison had been a test pilot once, too.

  “I was there the day you took the B-87 prototype for its test run,” Morrison said, standing and offering her hand. “I’m glad it was you flying that day and not me. I was barely out of Basic at the time.”

  Catherine laughed and shook Morrison’s hand. “Yeah, they had to go back to the drawing board with that one. I’m just glad both engines didn’t go out.”

  Next down the line was a man with wide brown eyes who looked like a teenager. “This is Zach Navarro, our flight engineer. He’s the baby of the bunch,” Duffy said.

  “Hey!” Navarro protested.

  “Not my fault you’re a child prodigy, kid.” Duffy ruffled his hair while Navarro made a face, but smiled at Catherine.

  “Kevin Park is our mission specialist,” Duffy went on, pointing to a man with pale white skin and a shock of dark hair. “He’s an exobiologist. After what you found up there, he’s hopeful.”

  “I’m glad they’re sending you,” Catherine said. “Claire Tomason was a hell of a scientist, but she was a geologist.” Claire had been the baby of their crew, and they’d all been mildly protective of her.

  “I can’t wait to see it all for myself,” Park said. “Who knows what we’ll be able to find.”

  But there’s nothing else there to find, she thought, although there was no way she could know that. She pushed the thought away and turned her attention to the systems operator, a bubbly blonde named Grace Kowalski. “It’s an honor to meet you, Colonel Wells,” she said. “I was so glad you didn’t die—I mean, I was glad you came back safe.” She pushed up her glasses, flustered. “You know what I mean.”

  “I do,” Catherine said. “No worries.”

  “Last but not least is the man who’s going to be there to save our asses, Dr. Nate Royer, our physician.”

  Nate was attractive, with warm brown skin and an easy smile. And Catherine didn’t miss that he was sitting next to Cal; the two of them looked close, as much friends as colleagues.

  “And of course, you’ve already met Cal, our resident cat herder.”

  “Colonel Wells.” Cal nodded briefly, and Catherine would’ve sworn the temperature dropped in the room.

  John’s phone beeped and he checked it. “Okay, the techs tell me they almost have the simulator ready for us. Hang tight for a bit; soon we’ll be able to take a look at what our new home is going to be like.”

  The TRAPPIST-1f simulation was equal parts virtual reality and real-world environmental changes, like temperature, gravitational pull, winds. At first Catherine hadn’t seen the point of her joining in. It wasn’t as if she could verify how accurate they were. The science team was working off the little bit of information that had come back from Sagittarius I, not anything useful from her.

  They settled in to wait for the techs to give them the go-ahead, and Morrison scooted over to sit next to Catherine. “Hey, I’ve been dying to ask. Is there anything about flying in ERB Prime that I should know? What’s the handling like?”

  Catherine was thrilled to have a question she could actually answer. “Well, you’re hopefully not going to do that much flying in it. At least not in terms of controlling the ship. There’s only one way to go, and that’s forward.” She reached down for her water bottle. “It’s . . . like being on a track. All you control is the speed, not the direction.”

  “What do you think happens if you go off the track?”

  “I don’t think that’s possible.”

  Morrison grinned. “But you tried it, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

  Catherine laughed. “Busted. That was part of our mission, to learn as much as we could about the makeup and properties of the wormhole. I did try to steer the ship off course.”

  “What happened?”

  “Not a damn thing. The ship twitched a little, but that was it. A tunnel. That’s a more accurate description. It’s like flying through a tunnel.” She paused. “Except you can’t hit the wall.”

  Morrison looked as if she wished she were taking notes. “How close are the flight simulators to actually flying Sagittarius?”

  Catherine had mentored new pilots before, when she was in the air force, but this was something different. She was the first to fly the Sagittarius model ship, and so far, the only. That added a little pressure to get the information right—there was no one else around who could correct her if she got it wrong. “They’re pretty close. As close as sims can get to the real thing, anyway. I think we pulled more Gs on liftoff than the simulators said we would. It was one hell of a push to get us going. Other than that . . . yeah, pretty close.”

  There was a knock at the door and one of the techs stuck her head in. “We’re ready for you in the planetary simulation now.”

  The six of them—Catherine plus the Sagittarius II crew, except for Commander Duffy, who was observing with Cal—suited up in the same space suits used on the first mission. The only difference was the VR headsets implanted in the helmets.

  They started going through the planned “mission” for the session, gathering “samples” from the environment. The room was hot and humid, close to surface conditions on TRAPPIST-1f. The light dimmed and brought relief to Catherine’s strained eyes.

  “You know, this is going to take away all the wonder from actually getting there,” Navarro complained. “It’s gonna feel like standing in a room in Houston.”

  Before Catherine could say anything, a strange feeling came over her. She was hot enough to start sweating—that wasn’t so surprising—but it was harder to breathe. They had oxygen on. Even if the atmosphere in the room was a match to the planet’s, the oxygen would counter it.

  It wasn’t a memory, exactly. More a feeling of uneasy familiarity. Her skin was crawling and she couldn’t explain why.

  “Yeah, except it’s hotter in here than in the other sims we’ve done,” Park said. “And the commute’s a hell of a lot longer. I dunno, this is pretty exciting to me. We get to see another planet without the long trip.”

  “Park, are you the kind of guy who spends his vacation touring the world through VR?” asked Morrison. When he didn’t answer, she laughed. “Oh my God, you are. Would you seriously rather spend most of the week exploring Venice via a headset rather than actually going there?”

  “It’s not that, it’s just . . . easier that way,” Park said defensively.

  Sweat beaded along Catherine’s temple. Through the VR goggles, she could see the projected landscape of TRAPPIST-1f. It might have been a desert anywhere in the Southwest: rocky ground, hot. The sky was a dull red, and was crowded with the other TRAPPIST planets, close enough to be clearly visible. They’ve got it wrong. Everything’s wrong. Something’s missing. It was a feeling, a deep, unsettling feeling, but it didn’t come with any memory of what the landscape had really been like. A shadow fell, and something glimmered in the corner of her eye. She turned sharply to the left. Nothing was there, but the feeling persisted. I’m being watched.

  “All right, enough with the chatter,” Duffy interjected. “Wells, your vitals are going wonky. Heart and blood pressure rates up. Are you all right?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” There was a bitter, coppery taste in the back of her throat, adrenaline flooding her body. She laughed shakily. “You guys must have gotten this sim close to the real thing. I’m having déjà vu.” Of course you’re being watched. Half of NASA is observing you.

  “Catherine, are you remembering anything?” That was Cal’s voice.

  “No, it
’s just . . . weird. This feels familiar.” Familiar but wrong. It was as if her vision were doubled, one image superimposed on the other, but the image in the background was too blurry for her to see it.

  “Catherine, your blood pressure is shooting up, and I’m not liking your heart rate. If your vitals don’t stabilize, I’m going to pull you out,” Duffy warned.

  “It’s okay. I’ll be fine,” Catherine insisted, even as dark spots clouded her vision.

  The stones are missing. It was her last thought before she fell to her knees and everything went black.

  6

  WHEN CATHERINE OPENED her eyes, she was in the simulation control room, a tech holding her helmet and Duffy and Morganson hovering over her.

  “Her vitals are getting better, Commander,” the tech said.

  “What did you see?” Cal asked.

  “Come on, give her a second to breathe,” Duffy said.

  Catherine blinked. The real world felt false to her, the lights too bright again, everything too loud. The strange feeling of standing back on the planet was fading. The last thing she remembered was Duffy threatening to pull her out.

  “The simulation, like everybody else,” Catherine said finally, gingerly sitting up. “What happened?”

  “You passed out,” Duffy replied.

  “Oh come on. I never pass out.” Heat rose in Catherine’s cheeks as she realized Duffy wasn’t teasing her. She’d never showed weakness like that before. It was why Duffy had started calling her Catherine the Great. To have passed out in a sim . . . The team was going to think she’d rushed back too soon, that she wasn’t ready.

  “Still, it’s encouraging,” Cal said, speaking to Duffy as much as to her. “Clearly something in Catherine’s brain was triggered by the simulation of being on TRAPPIST-1f.” He addressed Catherine directly. “We need a team to keep an eye on you next time, in case that happens again, but I think we should put you back in there as soon as we’re cleared. Tomorrow, at the earliest.” With that he seemed to dismiss her.

  Duffy stayed behind and squeezed her shoulder. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine, I promise. It was a little strange, is all.” She could still taste the adrenaline in her mouth.

  “We have to keep you in top form,” he said with a smile. “You’re our star trainer right now. The crew likes you. They know you get it, and you know what you’re talking about.”

  “What I can remember, anyway.” Catherine sighed.

  Catherine felt uneasy about what had happened, but Duffy’s praise stayed with her for the afternoon, along with the easy way that Leah Morrison seemed to look up to her. No matter what had happened, she was still capable of doing good things here. She could hang on to that.

  * * *

  Sometime after lunch there was a knock on her office door. “Catherine?” The last person Catherine expected to see: Maggie.

  Why is she here? With Maggie working here, too, Catherine knew they would run into each other sooner or later. She didn’t expect Maggie to come and find her. Bracing herself, she said, “Come on in.”

  Maggie poked her head around the door. Although she was roughly Catherine’s age, she looked younger, and had long blond hair that was always styled perfectly. Catherine used to admire that about her; now it was just intimidating. “I heard what happened with the simulation and wanted to check on you. Everything okay?”

  This would be so much easier if Catherine could hate her. “Thanks, but I’m fine. Oh God, people aren’t making a thing out of it, are they?”

  “No, don’t worry about that.” When Catherine gestured, Maggie came in and shut the door behind her, sitting in the chair across from Catherine’s desk. “My team had a hand in the sims, so we got the reports afterward.” She hesitated, then said, “I know they’re using you as a resource for Sagittarius II, but don’t let them put too much pressure on you.”

  “I won’t.” Catherine smiled faintly. “Besides, what would they have done if I had stayed dead?” What would you have done, Maggie? That wasn’t fair of her. Maggie at least had thought Catherine was dead. Catherine had known full well David was alive when she slept with Tom.

  Maggie must have caught the edge in Catherine’s question; a furrow appeared in her smooth brow. “I wanted to say . . . I don’t have to go to Aimee’s graduation party this weekend if it’s too awkward for you.”

  Catherine paused. A piece of her wanted to take Maggie up on her offer, to tell her to stay away. But the rational part of her knew that wasn’t fair, to Maggie or Aimee. “No, you should come. You were there for her in high school. It wouldn’t be right for you to miss it.”

  Maggie leaned forward and looked her in the eye. “I’m not going to say this isn’t hard, or isn’t weird. I care about David and Aimee. I . . . I miss them. I can’t say I’m sorry for what happened. We were all doing the best we could.”

  “I know.” The difference was, Catherine’s best involved six years alone in a ship designed for a full crew, terrified and not sure she would ever make it home. Maggie’s best involved sleeping with Catherine’s husband and raising Catherine’s child.

  Stop it. That’s not going to help anything.

  Instead, she took a deep breath. “I didn’t get to say thank you. I know you did a lot for Aimee. She needed a mom.”

  “She’s a great kid.” Maggie gave her a sincere smile. “She’s a pleasure to be around. But . . . if you need me to back away a little—”

  “No.” Catherine shook her head, although this was one of the hardest conversations she’d had since coming home. “Please don’t. She still needs you. I’m sure she still feels more comfortable confiding in you than in me.” More than anything, she wanted her daughter back, but pushing away someone Aimee had come to rely on wasn’t going to help that.

  “David and Aimee are lucky. If either of them ever acts like they’re forgetting that, tell me, okay? I’ll knock some sense into them.”

  Yeah. This would be easier if she could hate Maggie. Catherine smiled. “I will.”

  “You sure you’re okay? You still look a little pale.”

  “I really am, I promise. Thanks for coming to check on me.”

  “You bet.” Maggie stood and Catherine walked her to the door. Once Maggie was gone, Catherine decided she needed some coffee to face the rest of the afternoon.

  She stepped through the door Maggie had just used, and everything was wrong.

  The hallway was wrong. The hallway outside her office—outside the door she’d just walked through—had been a main corridor: brightly lit, broad, busy. The hallway she was standing in now was dim, narrow, and empty.

  Catherine looked around. What the hell had happened? She turned to go back into her office. Maybe she’d gone out the wrong door.

  But your office has only one door.

  The door behind her wasn’t her office door. It was locked, a heavy-duty security door labeled AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

  What—

  Where was she? Looking around gave her no clues. Sometimes at home she used to take afternoon naps on the patio. When she slept too long and the weather was too hot, this was how she felt on waking. Groggy, disoriented. Nothing made sense.

  Footsteps sounded down the hall and around the corner. She should hide. But where? There was nowhere in the tiny hallway to go. The bitterness in her mouth was overwhelming, and her heart pounded wildly in her chest. There was nothing to do except brazen it out. She started walking toward the footsteps, wishing she had some files with her or something.

  Two men came around the corner. One of them was an engineer on Sagittarius II—she couldn’t remember his name. The other was Cal Morganson—of course, of course it would be him.

  “Afternoon, Colonel Wells,” the engineer said. Both men were looking at her curiously, and she smiled. “Hey.”

  Suddenly Catherine felt her awareness shoved back, like getting pushed to the back of a bus. In her dimming vision, the two men in front of her turned into pale
, grotesque monsters, the same repulsive, too-soft creature she’d seen when she looked at David.

  No, not here . . .

  An overwhelming mental image came to her, of slamming their heads together over and over until their skulls broke and the seawater inside them ran out red and thick. She almost screamed before she realized it was only in her mind.

  “Didn’t expect to find you in the archives.” Cal’s voice brought her back, her heart racing sickeningly. His eyes were focused too tightly on her. As though he knew what she was thinking.

  “Don’t tell me somebody stuck you on research duty,” the engineer said with a laugh.

  “I’m here by choice, believe it or not.” Catherine faked a laugh with him although she was trying not to vomit. The archives? She had no reason to be in the archives. How the hell had she gotten down here? “I— I had to look something up and it . . . wasn’t in a digital file yet,” she stammered. “It’s a nice change, though; it’s quiet here.”

  “Too quiet. Gives me the creeps.” The engineer was a round-faced, cheery sort, and she was grateful he was there to act as a buffer to Cal, who hadn’t said anything further.

  “Yeah, that’s for sure.” She took a step backward, hoping her legs didn’t tremble beneath her. “Well, I’ll let you both get to it.”

  It wasn’t until she found the elevator that she thought to check her cell phone. Maggie had left her office around two thirty.

  It was nearly four in the afternoon.

  That was impossible. Her phone was wrong.

  She got off the elevator on the ground floor and checked one of the clocks showing the world’s various time zones.

  Her phone wasn’t wrong.

  An hour and a half of her day had vanished in the time it took her to walk through a doorway.

  7

  SHOULD I EVEN be driving? Catherine gripped the wheel as she drove in alone to JSC the next day, focusing on the things that were real: the firm steering wheel against her fingers, the sun coming through the car window, hot against her skin despite the fierce air conditioner.