The Comet's Curse

by Dom Testa

  “But you’ve already done something to Roc, haven’t you?” Triana said.

  “Oh, sure. That was nothing. Just a little memory chip, nothing to cause damage. A little something to keep him preoccupied, so he won’t know what’s coming, and can’t send out a warning once the decay begins. It’s like a tranquilizer for computers. Or a sleeping pill, maybe. I’m afraid your lovable computer friend did not take to it very well. Not very well at all. In fact, I believe he’s grown very quiet.” Bauer smiled wickedly. “Probably trying to figure out what’s happening to him. But once the coin is in place, it will soon be all over.

  “It’s a most ironic ending, wouldn’t you agree?” he said. “Galahad, the greatest sailing ship ever conceived, with a price tag well into the tens of billions of dollars, yet brought down by a piece of metal worth exactly twenty-five cents.”

  Another short laugh escaped his lips, but now the effect wasn’t as chilling. Instead it brought anger to the surface in Triana.

  “You tried to insert that once already, didn’t you?” she said, again hoping to buy some time. “Someone interrupted your plot the other day, and you dropped your quarter. Why did you wait so long to try again?”

  “For one thing, I wasn’t going to do it that time. I just wanted to see how long it would take to open the panel with this,” he said, indicating the tool. “Remember, I wanted to let you scoot away from Earth before I did anything. And, to tell you the truth, it actually became kinda fun this last week, watching all of you shaking in your boots. It was almost as if I were a ghost on this ship, and haunting you kids was a kick.”

  He took one more step towards Triana and the open panel. A short spasm of coughing made him pause, a brief look of pain coursing across his face. Then it passed, leaving the wild look in his eyes that had greeted Triana just minutes ago.

  He had now drawn to within five feet of her, and pointed the sharp tool towards her face. “And now, enough talk. Please have a seat right there while I finish my work. This shouldn’t take long.”

  A million thoughts screamed through Triana’s mind. If she let Dr. Bauer insert that coin, it meant the end of the mission and the deaths of all 251 crew members. If she struck out at him, he would easily overpower her and then just finish the job anyway. She decided to take the risk. In her mind there was simply no alternative.

  She inched along the wall again, keeping her eyes on his, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Bauer’s eyes flitted back and forth between her and the open panel at about knee level. As soon as he was within reach of it, he pointed the tool at her throat and took another quick glance down. At that exact moment, as he prepared to drop to one knee, another severe coughing fit took hold of him, and he reflexively closed his eyes. Triana did not waste the gift.

  Her foot shot out and made direct contact with Bauer’s wrist. It brought a yelp of pain and forced his arm backwards. But, to Triana’s despair, he kept a firm grasp on the weapon. She jumped and kicked again, this time with a blow to his chest. The large man staggered backwards, his shoulders colliding with the corridor wall, his head banging solidly. A surprised look appeared on his face, but it was short-lived, quickly replaced with a grimace of rage. With a shout, he braced one arm against the wall, preparing to push off in a wild charge at Triana. She tensed her muscles, ready to repel the attack, her eyes drawn to the sharp metal tool that Bauer raised above his head.

  36

  Tyler Scofield was humming a song, one of his old favorites, a song taught to him by his grandmother. She had tried to teach him the words, but apparently had a hard enough time remembering them herself, because each time they came out in a slightly different form. Tyler hadn’t cared; he loved the melody and knew enough of the words to sing a short chorus, which satisfied him. His grandmother had told him about the days of actually buying music in stores, something that seemed quaint and ridiculously old-fashioned. “Thank goodness I never had to resort to that,” he had told himself, thankful for the ability to search for and secure any music, of any generation, within seconds.

  His humming was the soundtrack to his afternoon in the sun. He was alone on the deck of the cottage, two miles from the nearest village, overlooking the Sea of Cortez. The town of Loreto, along the Baja strip of Mexico, was just a short ride south whenever he needed supplies. That wasn’t very often. He was content to wait out his final days in total isolation, a recluse now after a lifetime of civilization overload.

  He had loved the drama involved in dropping out of sight. Each time a newscast carried a story of his disappearance, he chuckled. It made no sense to him why anyone should want to keep up with his whereabouts, especially now that Galahad was gone and the human species was preparing to enter the homestretch. He had said all he needed to say over the past two years. What more did they need to hear? What did it matter where he chose to spend his final days?

  Looking out across the dark blue water, he spied a fishing boat. The crew appeared to be moving about as quickly as he was this afternoon, which made him wonder how they got anything done. One man stood nonchalantly at the wheel, barely moving, and another was quite obviously asleep, sprawled back into a chair with his feet up on the railing. A large, floppy hat shielded his face from the blistering late afternoon sun. A third man sat near the stern, lazily tending to a tangled net, but not appearing to be in any hurry to get it straight. He would occasionally lean back and spit something into the water, then refill his mouth. Seeds, probably sunflower seeds, Scofield imagined.

  Watching the slow trek of the boat made him think briefly about another ship that had sailed. This one was full of teenagers, and its speed was considerably faster than the fishing boat’s. It would be approaching the speed of light within a year, creating the first real test of Einstein’s theories regarding space flight and time distortion. Too bad there wouldn’t be anybody around on Earth to measure the results.

  Too bad, also, that the ship had sailed in the first place. Scofield had given everything he had to prevent the mission from succeeding, including diplomatic pressure and public pressure. He had even gone so far as to plant a saboteur within Wallace Zimmer’s inner circle, someone who could short-circuit the plans from inside. Fenton Bauer had not been Scofield’s ideal choice, but at the time it was difficult to be picky. It was easy enough to find someone who was adamantly against the mission; finding someone who could do something about it and remain quiet was a stiffer challenge. Scofield had wondered about Bauer’s dependability, but ultimately had given the green light. Unfortunately, he had failed.

  Watching the fishing boat and its three sleepy keepers make their way towards a rocky point, Tyler Scofield made a sudden decision to contact Zimmer. He had read his rival’s e-mail a couple of days ago, admiring the class of the man if not his ideals. It couldn’t hurt to make one call. He could hide the location and maintain his privacy.

  Punching in the code, he waited, sipping from a bottle of water, and noting the drift of the boat around the point and out of sight. Just when he thought he was out of luck, his vidscreen came to life, the face of Wallace Zimmer staring back at him.

  “Tyler? My goodness, the entire world seems to be looking for you.”

  “And yet you’re the only person I bother to call, Wallace. How are you?”

  “Tired. Weary, I guess, is a better word. Weary from the physical and mental drain. Plus our friend Bhaktul has come to call.”

  “I’m sorry,” Scofield said with a murmur.

  “Oh, it’s in the cards for all of us. I’m just thankful I was able to finish …” Zimmer broke off the sentence.

  Scofield detected the awkward feeling and put the scientist at ease. “Yes, of course. That was more than two years of extremely hard work. And it’s partly the reason for my call. First off, I’d like to thank you for your sincere note. It’s a shame that we were at odds these past couple of years. But I want you to know that our differences never affected my respect for you. We … we agreed on the problems, just not always th
e solutions.”

  Zimmer stared silently into the screen.

  “Listen, Wallace, as much as I desperately tried to kill your project, I’m afraid that you were the better man. Consider this a call of congratulations. I might have objected to your plan, but I appreciate the skill and grace that you brought to it. You’ve achieved something that, three years ago, I would have thought impossible. Kudos to you, my old friend.”

  Zimmer seemed touched. He nodded at his adversary. “Thank you, Tyler. Your call means more to me than any other note I’ve received. That’s the truth.”

  “I don’t believe we’ll be hearing from each other again,” Scofield said. “I just thought you deserved to hear this. Believe me, I tried as hard as I could to keep this from happening. If you only knew.”

  A look of concern came over Zimmer’s face. He hesitated before speaking up again.

  “Please do not take offense at this, but I do have a question about your … campaign to disrupt the Galahad mission.”

  “Yes?”

  “Is it possible that you had someone working on the inside of the project?”

  Scofield remained stoic, staring into the vidscreen. “Why do you ask?”

  “Well … it’s actually bothered me from the start. I would spend many nights lying in bed, thinking of everyone who came into contact with the project, wondering if they could all be trusted. I believed that our security was as good as could be expected, but still …” Zimmer rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Still, how can one ever be completely sure, right?”

  “Right,” was all Scofield could think to say.

  “Here’s the reason I ask,” Zimmer said. “There hasn’t seemed to be any major problem with Galahad since she left. The last time I checked with Tracking, they said all seemed well. But now …”

  “What is it?” Scofield said, sitting up straight.

  “There are a couple of things that have me concerned. About two hours ago I received a call from my office. Galahad has gone silent. They can’t seem to raise the main computer, which could be a minor issue. Besides, it’s only been a couple of hours. Could be any number of reasons.

  “But I’ve been doing some thinking this afternoon. Since the launch, two people have dropped out of sight. The call from you is reassuring, since you were one of them. The other person is Fenton Bauer.”

  “What do you mean?” Scofield said.

  “I talked to his wife yesterday. She hasn’t seen him since he left the space station two weeks ago, just before the launch. Nobody has heard from him.”

  Scofield sat still. A strong breeze began to blow in from the water, ruffling his hair and adding to the chill that had enveloped him in the last minute. At first he thought of admitting everything to Zimmer; then he decided against it. But after another moment he changed his mind yet again. What could it hurt to talk now?

  “Wallace, this news is … well, it’s very troubling. You know how adamantly I was opposed to this project from the first day you proposed it. And, yes … I did try to sabotage your efforts from the inside. Fenton Bauer was my best chance.”

  Scofield could see the shock written on the face of his old friend. He hadn’t expected that look to cause such pain in his own heart, but the realization of betrayal brought a heavy feeling of shame upon Scofield, as if he hadn’t played fair. He quickly explained.

  “But we failed, Wallace. Do you understand? Fenton and I were working together to cripple the project, that’s true. But once Galahad launched I gave up.”

  “I don’t understand,” Zimmer said. “What were you doing?”

  “It was all in the computer, that amazing computer you installed aboard the ship. Our plan involved frying its brain on the eve of departure. We knew that it was an integral part of the ship; in fact, we knew it couldn’t function without that computer. And destroying it the day before launch would mean a complete retrofit, something that would take months, and probably not get approved. We were counting on public opinion to swing our way if you suffered a defeat like that, and it would spell the end of Galahad.”

  “But …?”

  “But Dr. Bauer was unable to get to the computer access panel like we had planned. That computer genius of yours, Orzini is it?”

  “Roy Orzini.”

  “Yes. We didn’t count on him staying aboard the ship until the very last moment. I guess he wanted to babysit that child of his right up until the launch. Dr. Bauer tried everything possible to sneak in alone, but there was no opportunity. So instead he called and informed me that he was leaving. I presumed that our last hand had been dealt, and it was a loser. Disappointing, extremely disappointing. But not completely unexpected. I never figured to have better than a fifty-fifty chance of winning.”

  “And Dr. Bauer? You’ve not heard from him?”

  “Nothing. He simply said he was leaving the space station. I assumed—like you, I suppose—that he was going home.”

  Dr. Zimmer seemed to digest all of this. If Bauer was in league with Scofield, and had missed his chance to disrupt Galahad’s computer …

  “I think he’s aboard the ship,” Zimmer said.

  “What? How could that be?”

  “I don’t know, Tyler, but I’m sure of it. That’s why we haven’t heard from him, and now we’ve lost track of the ship.”

  “Wallace, you must believe me. It’s true I tried to wreck the launch. But I would never support anything that might harm any of those kids. My God, I was trying to save them from the beginning!”

  “I’m starting to see a portrait of a different man than you or I knew,” Zimmer said, his voice cold. “You might not have sent him aboard with the intention of killing anyone. But it’s possible that that’s exactly what you’ve done. Intentions don’t matter anymore. It’s very likely that you encouraged a man who is unstable. And I place the responsibility of the lives of those 251 kids on your shoulders, Tyler.”

  37

  Triana braced herself for the attack.

  Suddenly a shout came from behind her. Dr. Bauer froze, and both of them looked down the corridor towards the lift. Around the corner stepped Gap, Lita and Channy. Their faces displayed the shock of recognition, their mouths open and disbelieving.

  Finally, Gap spoke. “Hold it, Dr. Bauer. Stop right there.”

  Bauer’s surprise dissipated quickly. With Triana still gazing at her companions in relief, he launched himself towards her and grabbed her around the shoulders with one arm. With the other he placed the sharp point of the tool against the side of her neck. Gap and the others stopped in their tracks, stunned at what they were seeing.

  “Not another step,” Bauer said. “Triana can tell you that I won’t hesitate to use this.”

  Gap looked back and forth between the crazed eyes of the scientist and the face of the Council leader. If he expected a look of terror in her eyes, he was surprised. She remained calm and quiet. No struggling, no frantic squirming. She looked back at Gap, steady but alert.

  “Just let her go, Dr. Bauer,” Gap said. “Let her go and let’s talk.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Bauer said, slowly stepping backwards, dragging Triana with him. “This very sharp instrument and Triana’s very delicate neck place me in the position of power here. You’ll do exactly as I say, do you understand?”

  “There are three of you,” Triana said firmly. “Don’t worry about me. He’s trying to—”

  “Shut up!” Bauer tightened his grip on her, his left arm coming up under her chin and snapping her head back. It cut off the sound from her throat, but her eyes kept their steely stare. Bauer took another step backwards, his breathing getting heavier and heavier. Triana wondered if another coughing attack might strike, giving her the chance to wriggle free.

  Instead, from behind, came another shout.

  A hand crashed down on the right arm of Dr. Bauer, sending the tool to the ground, where it spun a couple of times and came to rest. Triana fell forwards against the wall, reaching out with her hand at the last s
econd to prevent herself from slamming face-first into it. The impact brought her down to one knee, and she turned to see what had happened.

  Dr. Bauer had recovered, and was wrestling with Bon. Triana couldn’t believe the sudden change of fortune. Where in the world had Bon come from?

  Gap, Lita and Channy were suddenly at her side, helping her to her feet. As the four of them turned to help Bon, Bauer gained control in his fight and, grabbing Bon by one arm, viciously slung him into the other Council members. Without hesitating, the scientist took off in a scramble down the corridor.

  “Tree, are you okay?” Gap said.

  “I’m fine. Bon, thank you. You—”

  “He’s getting away!” Bon said. “C’mon.”

  “He can’t hide anymore,” Channy said. “Let’s get some more help down here—”

  “No, there isn’t time,” Triana said suddenly. “He’s heading for the Spiders.”

  “What?” Channy said as Triana, Gap and Bon began sprinting away. She turned to Lita. “But he’s trapped, right?”

  Lita looked back at her with a grim expression. “If he’s able to take off in one of the Spiders, it could be very bad news.” She began to run after the others, while the consequences dawned on Channy. A madman, loose in one of the Spider craft. And a target like Galahad waiting like a giant bull’s-eye.