by F P Adriani
“Um, I wouldn’t exactly call it that from out here,” I replied.
“I believe,” Babs continued, “that we’ve just witnessed the emergence of a new species!”
“Babs, I’m glad this is giving you a fantastic climax, but it wasn’t exactly a species I want to be friends with. It didn’t exactly look comfortable with what it’s become.”
I was frowning at Cambridge, whose mouth was shaking at me. Shock was sharpening his dark eyes, and they seemed to be asking me, Can we humans still live here now?
However, that was a question I certainly had no answer to.
*
The next day, I was back inside my ship, on the bridge with Babs; we were coordinating over the communicators with Gary and a team from Genteran as they all worked on the core clean-up.
The damage had turned out to be not as bad as I’d thought it would be: the “plasma being” had apparently consumed or merged with most of anything that would be damaging to human health especially.
“I figure the plasma being either got sucked up accidentally through the nozzles,” Babs said to me now, “or there was some incomplete combustion for some reason. Post-reaction ambin or hydroambin then made it into the exhaust, and that attracted the being to the ship. And then it developed a new taste while inside the reactor.”
Babs was standing at her bridge-station to the right of and slightly behind me; her eyes were on her electronic panel-table. She’d been up most of the night going over the data we’d accumulated about the plasma being and the whole incident. Her normally neat black bob was lopsided, and she had bags under her eyes, but I’d never seen her looking happier.
“Babs,” I said, “how do you know its taste is new? Maybe it can also become solid in part when it encounters hydroambin naturally on this planet.”
“Maybe, or maybe not,” Babs said. “Maybe it needed the specific conditions inside the reactor; maybe what happens to hydroambin and specifically ambin post-the reaction process—maybe that changes it into something that can now be used differently by that species. I really think that’s probably the case, based on what Steve reported about what it looked like at first and the initial ghost-like image from the Bot camera, and then later on with the sensors picking up haphazard destruction of ambin-containing parts.”
I sighed hard as I made an adjustment on my silver captain’s panel. “Whatever the case, I’m still left with a hole in my ship’s hull, and we can’t get to work on any welding because we’re busy cleaning up the mess the creature made. With the damage in the rod-shafts, in the belly and on the ground—we’ll be busy for days on that even. I did not want any of this, so how did I wind up with it? My shitty luck.”
Babs’s head turned my way, over her shoulder. “Sometimes bad things have to happen for good stuff to happen. Lydia, think of what this will open up: we’ve got a record of new life! We’ll go down in the science history books for this.”
My eyes were rolling. “I think you’re exaggerating.”
Her head shook fast. “No, I’m serious. There’s another issue here: these beings fix ambin inside themselves, cleaning it from their environment. It’s a helpful quality for a species to have.”
“Great. So someone will come and exploit the thing? That would be going backwards to disgusting human cruelty toward other species.”
Babs shook her head even faster as her whole body turned my way now. “I didn’t mean that! And it’s probably too angry an animal to work with in any capacity. But its existence might mean a way to allow an increase in hydroambin mining here, lessening the damage elsewhere: at least here on Genteran, there’s a form of natural lone-ambin clean-up. Maybe accumulating more solid matter actually HELPS the beings, makes them stronger.”
“Assuming there’s more than one of those things.”
“You said Cambridge told you there have been sightings.”
“I suppose,” I said, but I was frowning. No matter those sightings or the appearance yesterday, the hole the being had made had indeed closed, and there had been no more signs of any beings since. It seemed that so much was still so uncertain….
I let out another sigh, running my fingers through my messy, knotted hair; Babs wasn’t the only one who’d barely gotten any sleep overnight. “I’d really just like to get out of here. Everything else that happens as a result of this fiasco is not my concern OR my problem. I’m just hoping we can weld the ship back together to space specifications, or else we’re really fucked here—my ship stranded!”
The bridge’s intercom suddenly beeped—Gary, from outside the Demeter. I hadn’t had a moment alone with him since before the core drop, and now every time I heard his voice, my heart would become abnormally agitated. We’d never discussed that kiss….
“Yes?” I said to him now, my finger on the intercom button.
“We’re almost finished with the clean-up,” Gary said. “Another hour, I think.”
“Great job—that was fast!”
“Thanks mostly to the Genteran helpers.” Gary’s voice lowered a few notches. “Cambridge asked if we might pay them—a bonus?”
“Of course,” I said. I got the feeling that Cambridge had been hearing the cash register singing all along. I knew the people on Genteran didn’t have much opportunity for odd jobs because this was such an out of the way place, but I couldn’t sustain the whole planet with the money I made, especially when I was operating at such a loss right now.
Still, the workers here had indeed done me a huge favor; the clean-up would have taken longer if my crew had been the only ones working on it. I would definitely give the Genteran crew a bonus—and then some.
“Gary,” I said now, “what about the hull—can you give me an estimate on the time involved?”
“I can give you a guesstimate: three days, maybe four. I’ve coordinated with Cambridge again—he’s having some newly produced corascite panels shipped from another station. They should get here later today. Then there’s the heat-testing period; then we finally attach. It’s not like I haven’t done it before, when I was working patching at Oberon Station. It’s just finicky and tiring. I’m going to rest up overnight, if that’s all right with you, Boss.”
“Of course it’s all right. Take whatever time you need. I’ve sent word to Sereska that we’ll be delayed for days—no choice. I know it sucks that we’ll have to operate on the beam and zenite engines alone for a while. But I’m really happy most of my ship is still intact and that the shaft sustained minimal damage.”
“And someday soon,” Gary said, “we’ll do a core replacement, and then everything will be like nothing happened.”
“You’re right—thanks, Gary!”
“No problem,” he said, and I could have sworn I heard a huge smile in his voice.
*
Later, I was in the station again, in that same room with the camera view to beneath my ship. A few people were working under there now, hauling away the last of the disaster debris.
I turned away from the camera view, because I had actually come into the room to talk to Cambridge. He was seated behind a long black desk, leaning back in the cushioned red chair there, his face looking quite pale. I had intended to discuss a few business things with him, but I wound up asking him if he was feeling well.
He frowned then, clasping his hands across his red shirt, over his waist. “The thing is: we don’t get much coming our way here from off-world. And when word gets out that this place is a risk for a reactor core, that won’t do much for any business dealings here. I’m afraid this place will become a ghost station.”
I hadn’t thought of that. I had been so overwhelmed with and distracted by my own problems, I didn’t realize that the station—or even the whole damn planet—could now be in a much worse position than I was. I could—and would—leave. But Genteran’s people were now officially sharing the planet with a “ghost.”
“We’ve got a lot of data on the plasma being,” I said to Cambridge now. “We’ll certainly share
it with you, and you can instruct any incoming ships what to do with their Rodrum Barriers, if they have them, and also what their shields should probably be set on to prevent any backflowing anywhere else.”
“Thanks. But even among the tech-savvy, people get suspicious and afraid. I’m a business-person first and foremost, as I think you can probably tell.” He grinned hugely at me, and a light laugh escaped my lips. “But, it’s hard to do business when there’s few to do business with and you can’t make people feel secure while you’re doing it.”
“Well, Cambridge, another thing I think would help: more communication during atmospheric entry. I know you want to maintain independence here, both on the ground and in the air, but, considering what’s happened, that would leave people flying too blind here.”
“You’re right—that’s one of the first orders of business, I mean behind other things. Speaking of business—” his grin widened even more “—when I contacted Blue Station for extra help for your core clean-up, I was told there’s a core in storage there—a newer model, a Number Seven, a Pelchrist, with improved reaction start-time at rod descent.
“I didn’t ask the station’s engineers to bring the core over then, but I’m thinking of asking them now. The price would be half the going rate—I mean, I think you and I could come to satisfactory terms over this. I really think it’s a great deal.
“So, what do you say: would you be interested in a new core at a reduced price?”
I couldn’t help laughing: only moments ago, he was poor-mouthing and woe-is-me-ing; now he was working me like a professional haggler at a ship auction.
But before I could respond to his offer, Gary walked into the room. Since I’d seen him yesterday, he had showered—I knew this because Babs had contacted him about something early in the morning today, and he’d told her he was just getting out of the shower then.
But now Gary had been working on the core clean-up for hours; his red helmet was off and in his hands, and his face looked tired and a little dirty.
The state of his face tugged at my heart, and I didn’t know what to say to him. My mouth moved a bit but nothing came out—at first. Suddenly though, I remembered Cambridge was still sitting in the room. I jerked a thumb at him now. “Cambridge says he’s got access to a beaut of a reactor, a Pelchrist. He wants to sell it to me at half-off.”
Gary glanced between both me and Cambridge; then Gary began laughing softly. “Pelchrists are hard to come by because they don’t make many. That would be a step up from what the Demeter had—not that it was bad by any means. But is this really the right time? We can make it to Sereska fine on the other engines. We could shop there for a reactor.”
“I’m sure you could do that, but it won’t be a Pelchrist,” Cambridge said in a smooth voice, leaning farther back in his chair and looking very comfortable as he did so. But then he suddenly snapped the chair forward and stood up. “How about I leave you two alone to discuss it? You look like you could use the time.”
He smiled now as he strode past us, then out the doorway to the rest of the station.
I was about to open my mouth and begin a more detailed discussion with Gary about the reactor—and us—when Babs walked into the room. There was a small smile on her face, but I thought I saw wariness in her brown eyes.
“What is it?” I said fast. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing!” Babs said. “It’s just, the thing is, Lydia: I’ve decided to stay here.”
I frowned now. “Well, we’re all stuck here at the moment.”
“That’s not what I meant, Lydia. I mean…I want to stay on Genteran after that. This is an opportunity—to study something exciting! I’ve been talking to more people from here, and there have been quite a number of plasma-being sightings, especially near another station—I want to travel to there too. This one sighting here has actually been the only sighting in this zone. I’m thinking that maybe the plasma being somehow got stuck in this area of the planet, but it’s not native to here….” Babs’s voice died because she must have seen my perplexed, reddening face.
“You mean you want to leave leave—as in, leave the Demeter? But I need you on my ship, Babs! I thought everything was perfectly set up—”
“It was—it was! This means nothing toward what I feel about you and your ship. This is about what I feel toward here. I can get some serious science done here, methodical and on one issue. I really feel that this is important. I love being on the ship with you all—” her eyes fell on Gary, and she smiled “—yes—you too, Gary!” There was a low rumble of laughter from him now. “But,” Babs continued, “things come up in a random fashion there, and, lately, with Derry around, I’ve been feeling like I need to put down more roots somewhere.”
I was still frowning. “What about Derry—is she all right with this?”
“She’ll go wherever I go. She’s already told me so.”
“Lydia, Babs,” Gary said on a sigh now, “it was so hot working out there today, and I’m feeling like a sweaty wreck. I’m gonna go get cleaned up. I’ll see you later?” He raised a brown eyebrow at me, and I nodded fast, then watched his red-covered back as he walked out the doorway.
My eyes shifted right to Babs. “But, Babs, what am I going to do without you on the bridge?”
“You’ve got Gary—you should move him up there! Steve can take care of engineering.”
“But none of us are science ONLY. You fit that, and I’m not sure I can find a replacement for you.” What a mess this trip turned out to be—I’d lost not only a core; now I was also losing a crewmember!
“Like I said, Lydia, Gary would be perfect. I’m serious, Lydia. I think he’s wasted down in engineering only.”
“Now you’re championing him? What the hell happened there?”
“What happened is…I’m growing up a bit, or maybe I’m seeing myself as I should have all along: I need my own project. It’s true that Gary can be stubborn, but I can be bossy.” She laughed a little under her breath. Then she jerked a thumb over her shoulder, toward the doorway. “Cambridge mentioned there’s a materials-science position opening up here too; they were going to put out an advertisement over the ICFC airwaves to maybe import someone. But I just happen to be here.”
In case Cambridge or anyone else from the station poked his head into the room, I lowered my voice when I spoke now: “But, Babs, I thought you thought this place was a dump.”
“Well,” she said on a smile, “I guess it’s my kind of dump!”
I couldn’t help laughing.
However, a few minutes later when I left the station and walked over to my ship, I was no longer smiling but was frowning heavily.
This situation sucked! I didn’t want to lose Babs. But, somehow, I’d already lost her….
When I finally stepped onto my bridge, Chen was in his seat there, working. “I’ve been plotting out a few alternate paths to Sereska Station, sans reactor, to see which would save the most zenite and Evan hydro….” Chen’s voice died when his eyes turned up to my unhappy face. “What’s going on?” he asked fast now.
“Babs is leaving! She’s staying here on Genteran.”
Chen’s lips soundlessly dropped open; he looked the way I felt. Since practically the first moment Babs had walked onto my ship, I had been close with her; now, I would be losing that closeness, and so, apparently, would Chen be losing the same.
“W—well,” he finally managed to stutter out.
“Babs thinks I should move Gary up here. How would you feel about that?”
“Fine. That would be good. The thing is: we’ll still be minus one science-mind on the ship.”
“I know,” I replied on a sigh.
“I’m really sorry to hear this, Lydia, but back to the other thing—should I continue on with my work?”
My eyes had been on Chen, but my mind had been working fast over something else. “Yes,” I said to Chen now, “but don’t spend too much time on it because I have a feeling we’ll have a new react
or very soon.”
*
I was still on the bridge when I next saw Gary again. Chen had left for a break, so I was alone when Gary walked in and found me sitting in my captain’s seat, staring off into nowhere.
“What happened with the reactor offer—did you accept it?” Gary asked me.
“Yeah,” I replied. “I just sent a text-message to Cambridge.”
Gary turned away from me slightly. He must have showered since I’d last seen him inside the station; he was in a beige, shirt-and-pants outfit now, and the waves of his brown hair glistened with damp. “Okay,” he said now, “I’ll start preparing for the installation….”
“Wait,” I said, standing up. “Babs is definitely leaving the Demeter. She thinks you should be on the bridge in her place.”
Gary flashed confused, stunned brown eyes my way.
“Could Steve take over for you, you think?”
Now Gary’s back straightened, till he was standing quite stiffly. “Sure, Steve could take over—especially with Karen and Sam there.”
“Then I guess it’s a done-deal—provided you accept it.” My head was lowered slightly, but I was looking up at Gary through curious eyes, curious eyes above a gently shaking mouth.
“Lydia,” Gary said then on a long sigh. And that was all he said.
A silence filled the air between us, and it felt like the most awkward silence I had ever experienced around him.
I finally took a deep breath. Then I said in a lower voice, “Do you remember the last time we were on this bridge together?”
“I sure do,” Gary said, his broad cheekbones turning a pale pink.
“Gary, where did that come from?”
“From years and years of build-up.”
My shocked mouth fell open. “How? I don’t understand.”
“Come on—yes, you do. From the minute I met you—but I was already with someone else and I couldn’t back out. I didn’t want to—I did love Joan. I’m not in the habit of marrying women I don’t love. But, in retrospect, I should have backed out. If I was feeling something for you, I wasn’t feeling enough for her. And I was right: it didn’t last. We weren’t suited to each other.”
