by Dom Testa
Triana nodded. “You’ve made us ready, Dr. Z.”
He smiled at her, and put out his hand. Gap had picked up the scientist’s notes from the floor and now handed them to him.
“Will Dr. Armistead or Dr. Bauer be joining us?” Channy said.
The scientist shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry. Dr. Bauer requested that he spend his last few weeks with his family. He told me to apologize for not personally seeing you off. I think the disease has affected him to the point where he was embarrassed to have you see him. He didn’t want that to be your last memory of him. I gave him permission to leave on the shuttle for Earth last night. He should be home by this time tomorrow.”
The room grew quiet as the impact of Bhaktul struck them once again. The Council members had never been as close to Bauer as they were to Dr. Zimmer, but he had been a vital teammate nonetheless.
Zimmer said, “And Dr. Armistead will say her good-byes when she packs you into the Incubator. She’s pretty broken up right now.” More silence gripped the room. Now, not only was the impact of the disease hitting home, but so was the realization that they would soon be saying good-bye to everyone they knew on Earth.
For the next two hours they talked about every aspect of their mission. The responsibilities of the Council. The necessity of maintaining order and discipline for the entire five years. How the Storage Sections in the lower levels would remain sealed and off-limits until reaching Eos.
And the cycles of work.
Roc was the brain of Galahad, but the crew was the muscle. Each member was expected to shoulder their share of duties each week in a department overseen by one of the Council members. Groups of thirty or thirty-one would spend six weeks in one department, then rotate randomly into another department for another six-week assignment. After three or four such tours a crew member would be granted a six-week leave, so at any given time sixty people would be on a sort of vacation. Then it was back into the rotation to work in the other departments.
The Council members were the only ones exempt from the rotation. For their three-year term they would remain with their department. Once a new Council was elected, the original group would fall into the same rotation as the rest of the crew.
Dr. Zimmer appreciated the fact that some of his young explorers were especially skilled in one area, such as medicine or engineering. Yet he was insistent that everyone learn from each department. When Galahad reached Eos it would need all 251 colonists to share as much knowledge as possible to tame a new world. Should something tragic happen to some of the crew members, he didn’t want their expertise to vanish with them.
And on a mission like this, anything could happen.
Education was another matter. Galahad was not only a lifeboat, but a traveling university as well. Each crew member would continue their education during the journey. The ship’s computer banks were crammed with every bit of information the mission planners could think to send with them: math, science, biology, astronomy, medicine and history. Great works of literature were stored as well, along with manuals and blueprints for building a new civilization on an alien world.
Biographies of Earth’s most influential people were loaded aboard, including philosophers, scholars, poets, leaders and civil rights pioneers.
Every crew member would pore through the material. It was predicted that when Galahad pulled into orbit around its new star home, it would contain 251 college graduates, each of who would hold the equivalent of four degrees. Mankind’s hope for the future would not be ill prepared for the challenge.
As their final meeting wrapped up, Dr. Zimmer stressed two critical points.
“You’ll be working hard and studying much of the time,” he told his first Council. “Please remember to make time for fun. Soccer, boarding, theater … I hope you put energy into these pursuits as well.
“And finally,” he said, turning his head slowly to look at each of their faces. “Please look after each other. Be sensitive to each person’s heart and mind. No two of you are exactly alike. That is by design. I wanted to challenge each and every one of you to expand your range of intellect and emotion. Learn from one another as you learn about one another. Learn to appreciate the skills your neighbor has that you may lack. Learn to take pride in the skills that are unique to you. Learn to respect one another.
“Remember that as of tomorrow, you have only one another to lean on.”
He stood, and his handpicked Council joined him. Circling him, the group embraced quietly for more than a minute. Finally they heard Dr. Zimmer say softly, “I love you all.”
He broke free, and without looking back walked out of the room.
25
Bon Hartsfield was kneeling in the dirt, one large hand slowly scratching the soil. The scowl that usually etched his face was absent at the moment, replaced by a look of curiosity. As the Council member responsible for the Agricultural Department, he was happiest when he was at work in Galahad’s crops. Behind him stood Gap Lee, hands on his hips.
“Don’t ignore the question, Bon.”
“I’m not ignoring anything. But I have work to do, you know. I assume you do want to eat on this trip.”
Gap walked around the kneeling figure so he could face Bon.
“I’m not trying to interrupt your work. Just answer the question. Are you really that upset with every single decision Triana makes, or is it mostly just an act? You know, the ‘Bon the Bad Boy’ image.”
Bon tossed a small handful of dirt aside and wiped both hands on his pants. The two of them were not alone in Galahad’s farming section, but they were out of earshot from the other workers scattered among the rows of crops. Bright panels in the ceiling that mimicked sunlight cast a shower of light, preserving a tropical temperature around the clock. In order to look up at his fellow Council member, Bon had to shade his eyes with one hand.
“That’s ridiculous,” he said. “I don’t have time for games. And I don’t think I’ve spoken out against everything Triana has done. Just because I’m the most vocal when it comes to disagreeing does not make me a bad boy, either. Someone needs to speak up when something is wrong.”
“Sure, I agree with that. But couldn’t you be just a bit more team-oriented? Do all of your comments and suggestions have to sound so … aggressive?”
Bon chuckled. “I don’t know how you were raised, Gap, but in Sweden I was brought up to say what I thought. This ship is in a little trouble right now, and I’m sorry if peoples’ feelings aren’t my first priority.”
“Don’t give me that,” Gap said. “You act like you have to drive home every point with a sledgehammer. It’s a little exhausting after a while.” He glanced over at two crew members who were pulling a cart through the fields. The boy and the girl were laughing at something, and stopped now and then to readjust their grips on the cart.
Gap looked back at Bon. “All I’m saying is that you might try a little more diplomacy. Like explaining your opinions instead of trying to force them down Tree’s throat.”
Bon began to work the soil again, picking up a small dirt clod and breaking it apart. He waved away a bee that hovered around his face. Slowly his infamous scowl returned.
“All right,” he said. “Now, let me give you a little advice. Quit trying to play politics all the time on the Council and open your eyes.”
“And what does that mean?”
“It means you seem more interested in the title of Council member than the responsibilities. This little visit is a prime example. Aren’t there more important things for you to be doing right now than chatting with me about Triana’s feelings?”
Gap’s face tightened into a grimace. He and Bon had become good friends during the first several months of their training, even though Bon was not an easy person to like. But Gap respected his strong work ethic and no-nonsense attitude. Over the last year, however, their friendship had become strained. Gap soon realized that this no-nonsense approach could become old very fast. Bon never seemed to lighten u
p, and for Gap, who was always quick with a joke to break the ice during their intense training, it seemed pointless.
The fact that Bon seemed to despise Triana was the final straw for Gap. He opened his mouth to respond to Bon’s criticism, but was interrupted by a shout. It came from the two crew members who had been pulling the cart through the field.
Bon stood up and shouted back to them. “What is it?”
Instead of replying, the boy and the girl waved for Bon and Gap to join them quickly, and then knelt down as if examining something. Both Council members began to run through the rows of dirt and plants. As soon as they were within twenty feet of the kneeling figures they saw it.
A large section of the crop lay damaged. Dozens of plant stalks were broken into pieces and strewn across the ground. Others had been completely uprooted and cast aside. The ground had been churned up, as if someone had gouged into the soil with their feet.
Gap quickly scanned the area, looking for footprints leaving the scene. He finally spotted a set of tracks weaving out of the destruction zone and leading towards the exit.
Bon stood over the mess, seething. He looked back and forth, surveying the damage, and then looked up at Gap. The two boys exchanged a steely glance, breathing heavily. Words weren’t necessary.
The intruder had left another calling card.
At the same moment, Triana was hunched over her work pad in the Conference Room. Channy and Lita sat on either side of her. The three girls had been working together for almost an hour, engaging Roc with questions, and then tossing ideas back and forth regarding the ship’s crisis. Roc had patiently volunteered all the information he could.
Channy looked down at Triana’s notes and said, “Okay, that pretty much settles it, right? This stowaway must be getting into the Storage Sections somehow. He couldn’t be holed up anywhere else without being spotted.”
“That’s probably right,” Lita said. “But how is he able to get in and out? These storage compartments are sealed. We don’t even have access to them. I say we get a couple dozen people together and break in. There’s no way he could fight off that many people.”
Triana shook her head. “We don’t have any idea if this person has weapons with him. I’m not taking a chance on him killing several crew members before we can jump him. So far all he’s done is scare people and cause some vandalism. That’s not worth getting someone killed.”
“Well,” Channy said, “what about trapping him inside? If we station enough people around all of the storage exits, he couldn’t get in or out.”
Tree considered this for a moment. “A siege,” she finally said. “He would have to come out eventually for food and water. Unless …” Her voice trailed off.
“Unless what?” Channy said.
“Roc,” Tree said, “I know you won’t tell us what’s in those sealed sections.”
“You know, I had this same discussion with Gap,” Roc said, “and not once have any of you offered me a good bribe. I can be bought. Try it.”
Tree ignored this. “Can you at least tell us whether an intruder would have access to food and water inside those sections? If we bottled him up, would he be able to survive in there for a long time?”
Roc didn’t answer right away. His analytical mind was racing, gauging whether divulging this bit of information would violate his programming. Tree, Lita and Channy waited.
Finally Roc reached a decision. “If a person was able to get inside those sections,” he said slowly, “he would be able to sustain himself for quite a while.” The three girls looked crestfallen.
“However,” the computer added, “there is one other thing I can tell you. In order to access those supplies, a person would have to be intimately acquainted with this project.”
“What do you mean?” Lita said.
“I mean that if our intruder was simply a project worker or a staff member of the space station, he wouldn’t know where to find these supplies or how to retrieve them. Only someone close to the Galahad project would have that information.”
Tree bit her lip and thought about this for a moment. “So, if we trapped this person inside, we wouldn’t know if they were stealing the supplies or not.”
“Correct,” Roc said. “And, I might add, there are two other points to consider. One, Galahad’s crew is not trained for this type of activity. Obviously no one expected you to be fighting off an intruder within our own walls. Ninjas, you’re not. Second, this crew is already stretched thin with work assignments. If you try to keep a sizable force stationed around the Storage Sections—and that’s a lot of room to cover—then you’re going to cripple the normal work production needed to maintain the ship. And I’m not washing dishes, that’s for sure.”
Triana dropped her stylus pen down on the work pad and began rubbing her temple with one hand. She looked at Lita, then Channy.
“We won’t break in,” she told them, “and we won’t set up camps outside the Storage Sections. At least not yet. Whoever this intruder is, he’s human, and that means he’s bound to make a mistake sometime. Every time he ventures out of his hole he’s taking another chance that we catch him.”
Lita put her hand on Tree’s arm and raised her eyebrows. “Which brings up another question, doesn’t it? Just what do we do when we catch him?”
26
The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. Since that horizon was made up of the Gulf of Mexico, the huge ball of fire would spread out across the waves, making the water dance with blinding yellow streaks. A small crescent moon was holding on to its last glint of light before the dawn washed it away.
Maria Marques sat with her bare feet in the sand, just beyond the reach of the encroaching waves as they splashed desperately upon the shore. Pieces of wood, seaweed and assorted marine life that had washed up overnight lay scattered around her like a child’s toys at the end of the day. She watched the reflection of the sun, hardly moving a muscle, and seemed oblivious to the sounds of the town of Veracruz, Mexico, coming to life behind her.
It was almost six o’clock. Her husband still lay sleeping in their comfortable home about eight blocks away. Maria loved to come to the beach alone, and especially loved to catch a sunrise before making her way down the empty streets to her small medical office. The alone time was precious to her, affording her a chance to think without the noise of a busy household. Three children, a husband, her own mother, along with two dogs and two cats, all added up to a zoo. A loud zoo.
This was her escape.
Over the past two months it had been more than that. Since her oldest daughter had been selected for a spot on Galahad, Maria needed this time even more. She needed to summon all of her inner strength to be able to say good-bye soon.
Her daughter Lita was fourteen. When the time came to lock herself up in the enormous spacecraft she would be fifteen. And on her own.
Maria scooped a handful of sand and let it slowly seep between her fingers without taking her eyes off the water. When the sand ran out she grabbed another handful. Again and again she felt the cool, smooth grains run through her fingers. Her mind drifted, catching on glimpses of Lita at various stages of her young life.
Dressed only in her diaper, running through her father’s grocery store, stretching out her hands to whatever she could reach on the shelves. Maria had run after her, laughing, trying to put the scattered items back in their proper places.
Lita’s first day of school, practically clawing her way out of Maria’s tearful grasp, anxious to get inside. Unlike the other children who cried and clutched at their parents’ legs, Lita knew there were more books inside the school, and she couldn’t wait to reach them.
At age twelve, setting aside her studies of Spanish explorers to help care for her younger brother and sister. Reading to them, mostly, her eyes wide with excitement as she weaved tales of De Soto, Pizarro, Cortez and Coronado. She would try, unsuccessfully, to enthrall her younger siblings with details of Cabeza de Vaca and Balboa, explorers who
faced terrible hardships during their travels throughout Central and South America. “Many of these men made terrible mistakes,” she would say to her little brother. “Some inflicted horrible treatment upon the native people they encountered. We all need to learn from their successes and their failures.” Her brother would smile up at her, not really hearing what she was saying, just enjoying the attention he was receiving from his older sister. Maria would hear Lita sigh, and continue with her storytelling.
Two loud birds soared just over Maria’s head as she sat on the beach, coming to rest at the water’s edge. Their cries cut through the sound of the rushing waves, cries of sadness it seemed. Maria grasped another handful of sand and began to drift again. Remembering the mixture of excitement and sadness when Lita was selected from thousands of nominees for the Galahad mission. Lita’s mouth had opened into a round, soundless O, not sure how to respond in front of her grieving mother and father.
Maria had wondered how she would tell her other children that their older sister was leaving, permanently. In the end, she needn’t have worried, because it was Lita who took them aside and gently explained. Lita, who would be following in the footsteps of so many Spanish explorers, taking a path that her ancestors could never have imagined. A pathway to the stars.
That journey would begin in just a few hours. Maria looked up and managed to catch one or two specks of starlight, quickly dissipating as the sun began to break the horizon.
Releasing a last handful of sand, she rose to her feet, turned her back on the sunrise, and walked home.
27
Three days had passed with no further signs from the mysterious guest aboard Galahad. The crew went about their business, trying to maintain a normal pace and attitude. They did their jobs, ate their meals, socialized and exercised. But they did it with their eyes wide open, and too many cautious glances over their shoulders. The air was uncomfortable.
