The Comet's Curse

by Dom Testa

  She found Triana at home, sitting quietly in her bedroom, her feet pulled up beneath her as she sat next to the fireplace. A notebook and pen lay beside her. Ms. Velasquez noticed that the troubled girl was watching a photo gallery on the vidscreen, a snapshot of Triana and her dad at one moment crystal clear, then slowly fading, to be replaced by another picture. The one currently on the screen had been taken at one of the Colorado ski resorts, and featured Mr. Martell in a wickedly funny ski hat, brightly colored with long, flowing tassels drooping down one side. He was crouching in the knee-deep snow. Tree, pictured in the background, was raising a handful of the powder, obviously ready to launch the snowball at him. Both of them were captured in the middle of a laughing attack, and the faces reflected pure, uncomplicated joy. Ms. Velasquez took one look and knew that no father/daughter bond could be closer. She took a deep breath and fought off the urge to cry.

  Triana looked up at the school administrator, then reached over and shut off the vidscreen. Slowly, she rose from the soft carpet on the floor, walked toward Ms. Velasquez and, without saying anything, wrapped her arms around the woman. There were no sobs, no tears. Just a painful minute where no words were needed for expression.

  Finally, Triana pulled back and looked into Elsie Velasquez’s face. “I don’t know when I’ll be coming back to school,” she said quietly. “They won’t let me see my dad.”

  The school principal gently pulled a strand of hair out of the young girl’s face. “We need to talk, honey,” she said.

  They spent the next hour sitting at the dining room table as Ms. Velasquez recited the information contained in Dr. Zimmer’s letter. It outlined the plan for Galahad, and described the process of selecting five thousand kids from around the world who would be tested endlessly for almost two years. Eventually the five thousand would be pared down to the final 251 colonists who would leave Earth on the ultimate mission. Based on scholastic scores and health records, Triana had already been selected as one of the five thousand, and, with her family’s permission, would leave immediately for California and the orientation sessions for Galahad.

  Triana listened without saying a word. Finally, she shook her head. “I can’t leave my dad,” she said. “I can’t. I know he needs me. Even if they won’t let me see him, I know he needs me here.”

  Elsie Velasquez wasn’t going to argue with the bright young girl. She already felt a twinge of guilt, coming to Triana’s home while the girl was openly grieving for her father. But she also knew that the offer from Dr. Wallace Zimmer was a onetime chance, perhaps Triana’s only opportunity to escape the clutches of Bhaktul’s poisonous grip. Part of her wanted to tell the fourteen-year-old, “Look, you can see what has happened to your dad. The same thing could happen to you if you don’t take this chance to escape.” But there was no way she could do that. Instead, she nodded silently, rose to her feet and pulled Triana close to her. The two of them stood there for a full minute, arms wrapped tightly around each other, and Ms. Velasquez felt the warmth of her own tears begin to spill down her face. She let go, placing a quick kiss on Triana’s forehead, and left.

  Five days later, in her school office, Ms. Velasquez received a call from the grieving teen. In a quiet, eerily composed voice, Triana told her, “My dad is gone. They told me he died Friday, the day after you came to see me.”

  “Honey, I’m so sorry,” was all Elsie could think to reply. “I am so—”

  “Anyway,” Triana broke in, “I’ve been thinking about it, and I want you to call that man about the space mission.”

  The principal was shaken by the coolness displayed by the young woman. “Have you called your mother to talk about this?” she said.

  “I’m not going to call her. She hasn’t been my mother for a long time. My dad was … was all I had. There’s no reason for me to stay here. If they still want me, I’m ready. I’m ready to leave anytime.”

  15

  When Roy Orzini finished programming me, he did something kinda funny. He showed me some movies. Yeah, I know, you might think that’s a little strange, but we’re talking about Roy here.

  Truth is, I’m glad he did. They were all space movies, movies that usually showed how humans might react to strange things they find out there. Some were a little corny, like Forbidden Planet. Some were very entertaining, like Close Encounters of the Third Kind and E.T. Some were deep, man, like 2001: A Space Odyssey. But none of us is an expert on what will happen when trouble brews in the galactic void; we haven’t been there yet. Still, the movies at least show us possible human reactions.

  Gap knew that I had seen the movies, so of course he had to be Joe Comedian one day and call me R2D2. What a shame the heat didn’t work very well in his room the next couple of days. I don’t know how that could’ve happened.

  Look, if we don’t get to the bottom of this pretty soon there’s going to be some real trouble on this ship.”

  Gap had the attention of everyone on the Council. They sat in the Conference Room for their second meeting, the first one having been cut short by the incident with Peter Meyer. That was old news, however. The latest buzz around Galahad was the menacing graffiti that had been discovered by Gap and Channy. Triana had investigated immediately, but there wasn’t much to go on. The red marker that had been used did not match any of the supplies aboard the ship. And, after some quick questioning of the other crew members who had been in the area, Triana figured a time window of about fifteen minutes when someone could have scrawled the message before Gap and Channy happened along.

  Triana sat forward and looked across the table at Gap. “You’re talking about the effects on the crew.” It was more a statement than a question.

  “Yes, I am,” he said, tapping his index finger on the table. “When Peter freaked out, it was unsettling, but not surprising. And this might sound strange, but I think it actually helped a lot of kids. You know, some of them were coiled pretty tightly when we launched. Maybe his breakdown relieved a little pressure from them, like it told them ‘Hey, I’m not the only one.’ But this …” He stopped and shook his head.

  Lita Marques set down her stylus pen and spoke up. “Gap’s right. This thing on the wall is different. Now it’s someone intentionally trying to scare us.”

  “And they’re doing a great job,” Channy said. “I’ve still got the chills from seeing it.”

  “The whole crew has a bad case of the jumps right now,” Lita said. “I’ve had three different people ask me if Peter was responsible for this message. I think they hoped he had something to do with it, so they can just write it off as one kid having a breakdown.”

  “How is Peter, by the way?” Gap said.

  “I checked him out this morning and sent him to his room. He seems okay. Actually, he seems more embarrassed than anything else.”

  “Let’s get back to the graffiti,” Triana said. “I agree with Gap that we need to find out who’s behind this, and quickly. I wanted all of the crew members to relax and get used to their new lives as soon as possible. That’s pretty hard to do when someone is threatening your life. At least that’s how I interpret this.”

  “I thought a big part of our selection process was supposed to weed out anyone who might pull this type of stunt,” Channy said.

  “Ha!” Bon said with a snort. He hadn’t said much since the meeting had started, but now he lashed out. “Those tests weren’t for our sake. Those were designed to make the people back on Earth feel good about their choices. You know, if you’re gonna send a ship full of teenagers off to ‘save the race,’ then you want to feel like you made good choices, right? If those tests were so reliable, then how come—”

  “How come they let you slip through?” interrupted Gap, causing Channy to giggle.

  Bon glared at the engineering leader. “Well, yeah. We all know I don’t seem like the perfect Galahad specimen. So how come I wasn’t weeded out?”

  No one answered. In the silence, Bon slowly looked around the table at the other Council members. Wh
en his gaze settled on Triana he said, “You wanna know why? Partly because Dr. Zimmer knew this Council needed a different voice. But also partly because those tests were soft. It would be easy for anyone to slip through.” His mouth became a grim line. “Don’t kid yourselves. Any one of us on this ship might have a loose spring that good old Dr. Armistead wouldn’t find out about with her tests. Any one of us.”

  “That’s right,” Tree said, returning his stare. “It could be any one of us, even someone right here in this room. But I guess I have a little more confidence in Dr. Zimmer and Dr. Armistead than others might. For the most part I think they were pretty good judges of character. I’ve only questioned their selection process once or twice.”

  This obvious jab brought silence to the room and the air seemed to grow thick. Finally Lita diffused the situation by speaking up. “I had a few thoughts about Peter’s situation. I think they’re at least worth talking about.”

  For a moment it looked like Triana had more to say to Bon, but instead she turned to Lita. “All right. Go ahead.”

  Lita took a few seconds to collect her thoughts, and then said, “Well, it just doesn’t make sense to me that Peter could have imagined what he claims to have seen. It doesn’t fit any of his tests, even though I guess some people don’t put much stock in those.” She looked at Bon, sitting next to her, but there was no reaction.

  Tree bit her lip absentmindedly. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that maybe what Peter saw was real.”

  The statement was followed by dead silence. Each of the Council members exchanged glances, until finally Channy thought aloud. “How could that be possible?”

  Triana sighed heavily. “Roc, are you with us?”

  “I’m in the bath right now. Can you call back later?” came the computer’s reply from the speaker.

  “Roc …”

  “Yes, Tree.”

  “What do you think about that? About an adult being on the ship?”

  “Is it likely that an adult has stowed away on Galahad? No. But if you’re asking me if it’s possible, then yes, I would say almost anything is possible. In fact, do you remember our discussion about the life-energy readings on the ship? How they’re not in balance?”

  “Yes, I remember,” Triana said. “Have you figured that out yet?”

  The computerized voice of Roy Orzini was comforting, although the message was not. “No. I’ve had Dr. Zimmer’s people recheck all the readings on their end, and we each come up with the same imbalance. What’s interesting is that factoring in another person on board would satisfy the equation.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning that the life-energy readings are just barely out of whack. Just enough to account for two hundred fifty two people on Galahad, instead of two hundred fifty one.”

  Again, total silence engulfed the Conference Room. Roc sensed the quiet and added, “Of course, I’m not saying this is what has happened. I’m only saying the scientific evidence would support Lita’s statement.”

  “Plus,” Lita said, “there’s the marker pen used in the graffiti. We don’t have—or at least we’re not supposed to have—that kind of marker on the ship. Where did it come from?”

  “Probably the same place this came from,” Gap said. He reached into his pocket, grasped the object he’d found near Galahad’s Storage Section and tossed it onto the table. It spun for a few seconds, and then shimmied to a stop. The other four Council members shifted their gaze from it to Gap and back again.

  “What is that?” Channy said. She picked it up, looked at each side, and rubbed her fingers along the side.

  “It’s a coin,” Lita said.

  “A coin?”

  “Yeah,” Lita told her, taking the object from Channy’s fingers. “Remember hearing about the days when people used things like this for money? Before the United States and most other countries started using the credit bank, this is what people used to buy things. This was called a quarter, because it represented one-fourth of a dollar. But who would have brought one on board Galahad?”

  The question was answered with blank stares. Tree held her hand out and Lita dropped the coin into her palm. The ship’s leader looked closely at the markings, with an eagle embossed on one side under the words “United States of America,” and the head of George Washington gracing the opposite side. Under the president’s bust was stamped “2021.” It was dull and dirty looking, which told Tree that this particular coin hadn’t been kept preserved in someone’s private collection.

  “I’ve seen one of these recently,” she mused aloud, to no one in particular. What she didn’t say aloud was that she had seen a coin just like this on a newscast just a few months before their departure. She had brought it up with Dr. Zimmer, who had shrugged it off as unimportant. Could there be a connection between that newscast and this artifact discovered in the bowels of the ship? Logic screamed that it was too much of a coincidence, that she was holding a clue to their mysterious guest.

  She stared at the rustic piece of history and then shook her head. “Well, anyway, this could be innocent. We’ve got two hundred fifty one kids on this ship, and it’s easy enough to find out if someone brought this along.”

  “Why would they do that?” Channy said. “We don’t even need the credit bank on Galahad. What would someone do with old-time money?”

  Triana said, “I don’t know, souvenir maybe. Good luck charm. Who knows? But I don’t want to jump to any conclusions until we find out. I’ll post an e-mail to the crew this afternoon and see if someone comes forward to claim this.” She tossed the coin back to Gap.

  “As far as this incident with Peter Meyer is concerned,” she continued, “I want to proceed for now as if it was his imagination. I can’t see stirring things up with the crew right now any more than they have been. If something else comes up, then we’ll start a serious search for a possible stowaway. Any questions?”

  There were none, and the meeting was apparently coming to an end. Bon Hartsfield didn’t wait for any formal conclusion, and was the first to push back his chair and stand up. He leveled his gaze at Triana and said, “If you were using your head, you’d start that search for a stowaway right now. That coin didn’t come from one of us. You know it, and I know it. It was left for us to find. Just like the surprise visit to Peter, and the threat painted on the wall.”

  He paused, still with the attention of the entire Council. Lowering his voice, but keeping his gaze on Triana, he put a chill into everyone.

  “There is somebody on board Galahad who does not belong here. And no matter what his intentions, it’s obvious he doesn’t mind us knowing that he’s here. Maybe because …”

  He looked at Gap, then turned his cold stare back to Triana before finishing.

  “Maybe because he doesn’t think there’s anything we can do about it.”

  Silence swallowed the Conference Room. Bon slowly made eye contact with each of the Council members, then stalked out the door. Triana was tempted to shout after him, but bit her tongue. It was ridiculous that she allowed his gruff manner to affect her so. As the others stood and prepared to leave, she touched Gap on the arm and said, “Hey, could you stick around a minute? I want to talk to you about something.”

  Gap’s heart jumped at her touch. Again he had the sensation that she could almost read his thoughts, that same neon message blazing on his forehead. “Get it together,” he thought to himself. “Don’t be an idiot.”

  Channy and Lita filed out of the room. Channy was quizzing the head of the Health Department about the coin, and seemed impressed with Lita’s storehouse of knowledge. Triana heard Lita mention something about “paper money,” and then they were out of sight, leaving her alone with Gap. She looked into his face.

  “Tell me something, Gap. You used to be pretty good friends with Bon. I need to know if there’s something I’m doing to make him especially edgy with me. Does he tell you anything?”

  Gap chuckled and rolled his eyes. �
��Listen, Tree, it’s not you. At least, not that he’s told me anyway. Bon’s just …” He paused, looking for the right words. “He just kinda lives his life in a bad mood. You know what I mean? Some people … well, some people are like Channy, and then there’s Bon.”

  “Yeah, I remember his confrontations with Dr. Zimmer and those guys,” Tree said. “I think Dr. Zimmer treated him like a sparring partner or something. I still can’t believe he made the crew list, let alone named to the Council. But I think it’s different with me.”

  Gap shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t see it the way you do. I just see it as Bon being his typical moody, angry, Mr. Unfriendly self.”

  Tree sighed. “Sorry to bring you into this. I just thought you might have a little information that could help me. We’re going to be stuck together inside this ship for a long time, and I’d really like for us to get along, if that’s possible.”

  “Hey, don’t worry about it. You’re not the first person he’s rubbed the wrong way, and I guarantee you that before we reach our new home he might be the first crew member we stop and let off along the way.”

  Triana laughed. “Thanks, Gap.” She turned to leave, then stopped and looked back at him again. “By the way, I wanted to tell you that I’m glad you’re on the Council. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

  Gap still had the quarter in his hand. He reached up and placed it over his eye, squinting to hold it in place like a monocle. “Well, then,” he yammered in his best pirate impersonation, “you won’t mind if I keep this as a tip, eh?”

  Tree burst into more laughter and patted him on the cheek. “Sure, Blackbeard, it’s all yours for now. Unless we find the rightful owner.” She walked out of the Conference Room.

  Gap waited behind, exhaling loudly. “There’s only one problem,” he thought to himself, letting the coin drop into his hand. “What if the rightful owner doesn’t have a ticket to be on this flight?”