by Dom Testa
Now, as she approached the Conference Room, she wondered about reversing that decision. It was colder up here than she had expected, and she could always catch Gap up on anything discussed in the meeting. She was torn; on one hand she wanted all of her allies present as they rode through the turbulent times experienced both inside the ship and out, yet she also knew that every little breakdown, every little incident, every tiny error, would all be blown as far out of proportion as Merit Simms could manage. For that reason alone she figured Gap should stay on the job in Engineering.
The point was driven home the minute she rounded the turn leading to the Conference Room and found more than a dozen crew members congregated in the hallway. Many of them leaned against the curved walls, a few were sitting cross-legged on the floor. Merit stood next to the door, his arms crossed, deep in conversation with three or four followers. They appeared to be mesmerized by what he was saying.
For a split second her pace slowed, but then she recovered and worked her way through the tangle of bodies. Merit broke away from his speech and blocked her entry to the Conference Room.
“I’m here to formally request to be heard at this morning’s Council meeting.”
Triana burned on the inside. He had made sure to have as many witnesses as possible, and no doubt secretly hoped that she would turn him down, building his case that the Council did not care to hear the concerns of the crew. With Merit it always seemed to be about power and control.
She kept her face calm and replied, “I think that’s a good idea. Let us take care of some other business, and we’ll be happy to have you join us.”
Merit flinched for a moment. “Uh…very good. Thank you.” Then, with a manufactured look of victory on his face, he turned to the group. “Everyone relax, it will be a few minutes.”
Triana resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and instead gave a curt smile and nod to the assembled crowd and ducked inside the Conference Room. The door closed behind her and she found herself staring into the concerned faces of the Council. Nobody said a word as she walked to the head of the table and sat down.
“I won’t keep you in suspense,” Triana said. “Merit has requested another hearing, and I’ve agreed. He’ll join us in a few minutes.”
When this also was greeted with silence, she continued. “First things first. Gap, what do you need to get this heating problem fixed on Level Six?”
“A new heating system,” he said. That seemed to break the ice, and there were chuckles around the table. “I’m quickly running out of options, but I’m not giving up.”
Channy, whose neon-bright t-shirt was shielded under a long-sleeved top, said, “Our furnace went out more than a few times when I was growing up. My mum used to bang on it with a hammer, and that seemed to work most of the time.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Gap said, “although Roc hasn’t suggested that as a solution…yet.”
The computer spoke up. “I couldn’t live with myself if you smashed your thumb.”
“I don’t think we’ll be long this morning,” Triana said. “You should be able to get back to it within the hour.” She looked around the table. “Unless anyone has something urgent we need to address, I want to talk quickly about the Kuiper Belt, and then we can hear what Mr. Simms has to say.”
When this was greeted with mute stares, she tapped a login on the keyboard before her, and a split second later all of the table’s vidscreens displayed a three dimensional rendering of the Belt. A thick red line traced Galahad’s path through the crowded space.
“I want to let you in on some information that Gap and Roc shared with me the other day. It has to do with the make-up of the Kuiper Belt, and, quite honestly, a bit of bad luck.”
She spent a few minutes relaying the report on the Belt’s inconsistent thickness, and how Galahad had stumbled into a particularly rough stretch. For the time being she withheld the odds of survival that Roc had offered.
“This means,” she said, “that things are probably going to get worse before they get better. It also means that we might have to change course several times as we weave through this mess, and for now we don’t know what that will mean to our overall schedule.”
Lita spoke up. “If it’s a choice of getting to Eos a few weeks late, or not getting there at all…”
“Right,” Triana said. “So be prepared for some tight spots coming up, and remember to help diff use any concerns you hear from the crew.”
With another couple of strokes she cleared all of the room’s vidscreens. “Is there anything to add before we bring in Merit?”
After a moment of silence, Channy leaned forward, her palms flat against the table. “I just have a question, if that’s okay.”
Triana immediately took note of the unusual tone in Channy’s voice. Her typical playful rhythm had been replaced by a sober touch, a characteristic that seemed alien on the energetic Council member. “Sure, what’s your question?”
“I’m wondering how you plan on responding to the muck that Merit is stirring up. I mean…” She threw a quick glance at Gap. “I know we’re supposed to appreciate other opinions and all that, but it doesn’t seem to me that the crew is getting the whole story.”
Triana looked hard at Channy, then around at the other Council members. Their faces—with the exception of Bon, who was as unreadable as a statue—seemed to express a silent agreement with the petite girl from England.
“That’s a fair question,” Triana said, “and it’s something I’ve thought about. Until Merit held his meeting in the Dining Hall, there wasn’t really a reason to gather the crew together.”
“But now he’s gaining momentum, and we look like we’re hiding,” Channy said.
“That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose,” Triana said. “But in my opinion it would have been worse to immediately try to defend a plan that has been arranged, plotted, and followed since day one. Everyone on this ship has known why we’re doing what we’re doing, and it made no sense to me to round up 250 crew members and state the obvious. Our mission is on track, and, if anything, slightly ahead of schedule. I saw no reason to defend that.”
Gap picked up on the past tense. “Saw? So that means that now you’re considering a meeting?”
“Of course I am. Now that Merit has ‘stirred the muck,’ as Channy put it, it’s time to get everyone to refocus on the plan. A refresher course.”
Channy sighed. “Okay, thank you. I just haven’t liked this feeling lately, like we have our heads buried in the sand or something.”
“I understand,” Triana said. She looked at the other Council members. “Is there anything else?”
Lita shrugged. “Let’s hear the latest speech.”
Gap went to the door and summoned Merit into the room. He swept in, his long black hair pulled back into a tail. For a moment he locked eyes with Bon, who glared at him with open disgust.
Standing at an open spot near the middle of the table, Merit held up a sheet of paper and immediately began to speak.
“This is a petition signed by 38 members of the Galahad crew. That represents about fifteen percent of the people on this ship, and they demand an open debate on the issues I have raised.”
Gap took the sheet of paper and looked over the signatures. “I’m assuming you mean a debate between you and Triana?”
“Or any member of the Council, actually,” Merit said. “This crew deserves the right to hear all of their options, presented in a formal, intelligent manner.”
“Thank you for sharing that,” Triana said, eyeing her adversary with a cool look. “We will certainly take it under consideration and let you know shortly.”
Merit chuckled. “We’ve grown weary of waiting while you ‘consider’ our requests.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Triana said with a slight smile of her own. “It’s the way procedures work on this ship. We don’t make hasty decisions.”
“Exactly how many names do you need to see on a petition before you
’ll act? Fifty? One hundred?”
“It’s not a matter of quantity,” Triana said. “It’s a matter of the Council determining whether the request is in the best interests of the crew. If one hundred people wanted us to fly straight into an asteroid I would not open that to debate.”
“That’s a ridiculous comparison,” Merit sneered.
“In your mind, maybe. But my job, and the job of this Council, is to protect this crew from harm to the best of our abilities, and to make decisions that best serve the mission. That mission, by the way, is to pilot this spacecraft to Eos. Turning it around, in the middle of a dangerous stretch of space, is not necessarily that different from driving it straight into a hunk of rock.”
“So instead we’re supposed to just wait for one of those hunks of rock to slam into us.”
Triana paused, then lowered her voice to reply. “As I said very clearly, we will discuss your request, and we’ll inform you shortly as to our decision.”
Merit looked down at the table, then raised his gaze to meet Triana’s. “Then besides my request, let me offer some advice. It would be wise to quickly agree to our request. A lot of tension is building among the crew, and that can many times lead to unfortunate events.”
Gap bristled. “Are you threatening us?”
“I’m saying that the best way to deal with pressure is to allow a little steam to escape before something blows.”
Triana said, “During your speech in the Dining Hall you invited people to join your movement ‘peacefully.’ Have you changed your mind about that?”
“I’m not advocating violence, although your side has clearly taken that step already.” He looked at Bon, who continued to bore through him with his eyes. “An open, honest debate would allow everyone to hear all of the facts.”
“And what facts do you have?” Gap said.
Merit held up another sheet of paper. “A few of my associates and I have worked hard putting together a plan of our own. It would involve a slow turn, safely, through the Kuiper Belt, then back into the solar system toward Earth. Once we inform Galahad Command of our decision, they’ll clearly plot a flight plan for a return to Earth orbit. The return journey shouldn’t take more than two years.”
“Two years?” Lita said. “In two years we’ll be more than halfway to Eos.”
“That’s assuming, of course, that we’ll survive on our current path,” Merit said to her.
“We happen to believe that assumption is crazy.”
Triana cleared her throat, a clear indication that the discussion was over. “Thank you for your time, and for your observations, Merit. We will let you know soon what we have decided.”
He stared at her for a long time, until the silence became uncomfortable.
As he finally opened his mouth to speak, a sudden alarm sounded over the intercom. Triana stood and leaned against the table. “Roc, report.”
The computer voice answered immediately. “Collision warning. An extremely large object.”
“We’ll be in the Control Room in one minute,” Triana replied. “Gap, come with me.” She hustled out of the Conference Room with Gap on her heels, and they pushed their way through the assembled crowd. There were shouts and questions which were hard to make out over the blare of the alarm.
Merit stepped out into the hallway, making sure to get the attention of his followers before shouting after Triana and Gap: “What more evidence do you need?”
As the two Council members rounded a curve and dropped out of sight, a familiar smile spread across the face of Merit Simms.
14
“How large is it?” Triana said as she bolted into the Control Room.
Roc’s voice came through loud and clear. “One hundred and ninety-two feet from end to end, roughly the same shape as an Idaho potato. Which is very ironic, since we’ll be the ones who get mashed.”
Triana ignored the computer’s joke and rushed to one of the vidscreen consoles in the room. Gap had already brought up a 3-D plot, which showed the massive stone tumbling directly into their path.
“I have already changed course to escape collision,” Roc said.
“We should know in about…twenty-five seconds if it was done soon enough.”
Triana felt the blood drain from her face. Twenty-five seconds. She steadied herself on the console, and a moment later felt Gap’s hand on her shoulder. The seconds ticked by without a sound from any of the six crew members in the room. All eyes turned to the large main vidscreen which Roc had activated.
From the bottom right corner of the vidscreen Triana noticed what looked like a shadow emerge. It lurched upward, carving a path that seemed destined to intersect with Galahad. The ship, although flashing through the Kuiper Belt at a staggering rate of speed, still needed some distance for course corrections to take effect. The massive spacecraft could not exactly turn on a dime.
The shadow grew in size, and in a few seconds the potato shape became clear. It was scarred with craters, remnants of a violent history that stretched back to the origin of the solar system more than four billion years earlier. At one time, Triana guessed, it must have been huge, perhaps the size of Earth’s moon even, but collision after collision had chopped it down to its current size. Chunks of that original rock now contributed to the scattershot of debris that orbited in this extreme ring, billions of miles away from the sun.
And if their luck was about to run out, then chunks of a certain spaceship would soon become a permanent addition to the ring.
The shadowy hulk slowly rose on the vidscreen, and Triana realized that Roc’s course correction had been to dive the ship so that it passed below the rock. A move to the left, the right, or above would almost certainly have been fatal. But, with the boulder rocketing upwards at this angle, Galahad’s momentum in a downward streak might spell the difference.
Fifteen seconds later she felt her breathing return. The dark shape was slipping farther above them, and it became apparent that they were spared.
This time.
Soon the boulder disappeared from the screen. Triana let out a deep rush of air through pursed lips, and turned to Gap. “That was fun, huh?”
He shook his head and offered a weak smile in return. “Do you get the feeling that this ship is charmed? We keep missing collisions by just a few feet.”
“Don’t get dramatic on me,” Roc said from the speaker. “We cleared the bottom of that monster by almost two hundred feet. Not even close enough to muss my hair.”
“Roc,” Triana said, “I have to hand it to you. That was a perfect move you made. Perfect. So now, tell me: Where in the world did this thing come from, and why didn’t we see it earlier?”
“It’s that ping pong ball effect I mentioned to you earlier. These crazy rocks keep bouncing around off each other, changing direction, speed, rotation. This thing obviously smacked into something just before it zoomed into our path. Our warning system is good, but it can’t predict everything.”
Triana nodded, then looked across the room. The other crew members stationed in the Control Room were either wide-eyed from fright, or holding their heads in relief. One girl in particular, a fifteen-year-old from Japan named Mika, was watching—and listening intently—to the discussion with Roc.
And she was wearing a yellow armband.
Gap followed Triana’s gaze. He felt her start to move toward Mika, and his hand, which was still on her shoulder, stiffened. “Uh-uh,” he said to her in a whisper. “Leave it alone.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Leave it alone. She hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“I know that,” Triana said. “I’m just going to talk with her.”
“If you—”
“Relax,” Triana said, pulling his hand free from her shoulder. She walked toward Mika, who broke eye contact and turned back to her work. Triana didn’t know the Japanese girl very well, but had lunched with her once, several weeks earlier. She was quiet, but extremely polite and respectful. Triana ha
d always felt comfortable with her on duty in the Control Room.
The display of the yellow armband was disturbing to the Council Leader if for no other reason than it showed that the reach of Merit Simms had penetrated into Triana’s outer circle. Mika would have been one of the last people she expected to show support for Merit’s cause, and Triana couldn’t deny that a pang of betrayal rippled through her as she walked across the room.
“Hi, Mika,” she said, stopping beside the girl’s chair.
“Hi,” Mika said, a sheepish look on her face. Triana realized that it probably took a lot of courage for the girl to show up for duty with the display on her arm.
“Close call, huh?” Triana said.
Mika nodded, and uttered a quiet “Yes. Very close.”
“I see that you’re wearing one of Merit’s armbands. Do you mind if I ask you about that?”
Mika shrugged nervously. “I…I have listened to what he has been saying, and…and I find that I agree with him.”
“Do you?”
Another nod. “Yes.” Mika pointed to the vidscreen. “This is a good example of what he’s talking about. Another close call.”
Triana examined the girl’s face. “We knew when we left Earth that things might get difficult at times. And any return to Earth will have dangers as well.”
There was no response to this. Triana tried a different approach.
“Are you homesick?”
This brought an immediate reaction from Mika. She turned sharply and looked into Triana’s eyes. “No. Well, yes, of course I miss my family. But…but that doesn’t have anything to do with my choice.”
“Are you sure? Have you really thought about everything, or have you just been seduced by a chance to maybe see your brothers and sisters again? A chance that has no guarantee, by the way.”
Mika was silent, but kept her gaze on Triana’s eyes. “And once you get there,” Triana said softly, “then what? You will have thrown away a chance at a new life, and condemned yourself to a painful death from Bhaktul. By the time we reach Earth, you’ll be almost eighteen. And you know what that means.”
