The Dark Zone

by Dom Testa

  The scientist was putting on his best face, given his condition during the recording. Bhaktul’s disease had begun to systematically ravage the man, and would eventually take him completely. For now he summoned a smile, the lines around his eyes crinkling. Triana recalled his previous message to her, and his observation that she would age and mature throughout the course of their journey, and yet he would not change; he was frozen in time in both her memory and these video clips.

  “Hello to you, my little interstellar traveler,” he said. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be there with you, to see the miracle of creation in its purest form, so unlike the artificial world we have built around us here on Earth.

  “I trust that you are healthy and happy. After my last recording I realized that I was so focused on speaking to you that I neglected to have you pass along my best wishes to the Council, and to the rest of the crew. Please let them know that they are in my thoughts.”

  He shifted slightly in his chair, and Triana could sense the discomfort that he tried so hard to disguise; she knew him too well.

  “Since Roc has seen fit to deliver this next message, I conclude that you have safely emerged from the Kuiper Belt and are now entering a fairly empty stretch of space. Empty, at least, compared to what you’ve just experienced.”

  Triana softly chuckled. He could never have imagined—nor, for that matter, could any of the other scientists and astronomers on Earth—just how treacherous the Kuiper Belt really was.

  “I would also imagine,” he continued, “that everyone on board has pretty much settled into a routine by now. Oh, I’m sure there are some grumblings and disagreements, but hopefully nothing that you can’t handle.”

  Again, Triana smiled, thinking of the crisis situation with the crew that had been narrowly averted just weeks earlier.

  “I think it’s important, Tree, that you’re prepared for the additional stresses that are coming as a result of the natural connections that are taking place right now.” Dr. Zimmer paused, looked down for a moment, and then laughed. “Listen to me, I sound like such a clinical scientist. By ‘natural connections’ I’m obviously referring to the personal relationships that are starting and, unfortunately, ending. Sorry, the vocabulary of a lifelong bachelor can sometimes be a little … cold and emotionless.

  “But I’m sure you know exactly what I’m talking about. You yourself have perhaps felt some of this stress, and if so, you probably find that it often gets in the way of rational thought. I simply want you to understand that it’s okay, you’re not the first one to experience it, and you certainly won’t be the last.”

  Triana felt a lump in her throat. Her father never really had the chance to have much of a talk with her about boys, and now Dr. Zimmer was doing his best to touch on something that not only made him feel uncomfortable, but was something in which he knew he lacked much personal experience. It was touching to the teenage girl, and made her love the man even more. His rambling, stumbling approach to discussing teen angst was adorable to her.

  “What makes it even more difficult, however, is the fact that all 251 of you are confined to such a small space, relatively speaking. As these relationships follow their normal course, there will be friction and ultimately hurt feelings. Again, I’m no expert, but I would highly encourage you, as the Council Leader, to keep your eyes open for any signs that it’s affecting the safety and performance of the crew. It’s sad but true that not all relationships will work out. Talking about it will help, I know that. I would even go so far as to recommend group meetings to allow people to share their feelings, if necessary, to let them know they’re not alone with the quickly changing emotions they’re experiencing.”

  Triana had never considered this, but found herself nodding. She wondered if she would be able to discuss her topsy-turvy feelings.

  “But regardless of how these things work out, the ultimate responsibility of every crew member is to the safety of the ship and the success of the mission. It’s difficult enough to find life balance here on Earth and to function normally during times of stress; in your situation, it can be critical.

  “I suppose what I’m trying to say, Tree, is that all of us working on the Galahad mission knew that you kids were going to be facing conditions that are much more difficult than the average teenager would ever deal with, both physically and emotionally. I spent many hours talking with Dr. Armistead about this, and she was quite blunt. As she told me, the fact that you were specially selected through a vigorous process really wouldn’t have any effect on the emotional aspect; kids, even amazing kids like you, are still kids, and your emotional evolution was determined a long, long time ago.”

  He paused, and what seemed to be a spasm of pain rippled through his face. He turned to one side and coughed into a handkerchief, and when he faced the camera again Triana was sure that she saw tears in his eyes. She was sure that this time they were tears of pain. He knew that he didn’t have much time left, and yet he was determined to spend that time offering every bit of wisdom and support that he could to the kids who had captured his heart—and his imagination—for the last years of his life.

  “Tree, before I let you go,” he said, “I wanted to say something about the news I dropped on you last time. I’m talking, of course, about the child that I never told you about.”

  He paused again, and Triana involuntarily sat forward. During his last recorded message to her, Dr. Zimmer had stunned the Council Leader by announcing that he had fathered a child, and—most shocking of all—that child was a crew member on Galahad. His or her identity was a mystery.

  “A part of me questions why I felt the need to tell you anything,” the scientist said. He rubbed a hand over weary eyes. “You never would have known. For that matter—” He broke off and stared from the screen. “My child doesn’t even know, and believes their natural father to have died before the birth. The mother and I thought this would be best, a decision that I have also questioned many, many times since then. There were times that I often thought about showing up at the door, and introducing myself to my only child. I planned the conversation in my head a thousand times, played it out over and over again, imagining their face as I broke the news. But … I never had the nerve.

  “And, eventually, a stepfather came into the picture. I couldn’t disrupt the household after that, and felt that I had missed out on my chance to get to know them.”

  Dr. Zimmer again rubbed his forehead. “Then, of course, I began the Galahad project, which consumed my life. I reached out to the mother and suggested that there could be a spot on board. She was hesitant at first, but realized that it was a chance to save her child’s life. She agreed.”

  At this point a concerned look spread across his face. “I don’t need to point this out, but I want you to know that this crew member has every right to be aboard. Yes, there was favoritism shown, I will not deny that; but at the same time, I believe in my heart that they could have easily been accepted anyway. They are just as qualified and gifted as any other person on the ship. I don’t want you to think a spot was taken by someone who shouldn’t be there.”

  He looked down, obviously ashamed at not only his actions from the past but his passionate plea for Triana to somehow accept this mystery crew member. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper.

  “I don’t know why I feel it’s so important for you to know that, but … but I have thought a great deal about it since I first told you. I know you, Triana, and I know that deep down you always wanted me to be proud of you, and to feel worthy.” He looked up again. “I suppose I want the same thing.”

  There was silence for a long time. Triana sensed what was coming, and raised her hand to place it on the vidscreen, a split second before Dr. Zimmer did the same.

  9

  A grin stretched across Channy’s face. She sat cross-legged, her back against the curved wall in the hallway outside the Conference Room. The object of her delight was Iris, the cat that had become the unofficia
l mascot of the ship, rescued from a small metallic pod orbiting Titan, Saturn’s largest moon. Channy could often be found escorting Iris to the domes, where the cat would spend many happy hours exploring the fields and rolling in the dirt.

  At the moment she lay sprawled across the hallway, her legs stretched out, her eyes mostly closed but her tail giving away her attentive state by twitching at the very end. Crew members rounding the turn laughed as they stepped over the animal, and many of them stopped to either rub her belly or delight her with a quick scratch behind the ears. Iris was soaking up the attention, and Channy was sure that was why the cat had positioned herself as she had; there was no getting around her without some form of acknowledgment.

  “She’s a bigger ham than you,” Channy heard someone say with a chuckle, and looked up to see Gap leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “And,” he added, “I never would have thought that possible.”

  Channy looked back at the cat. “She is an affection hog, isn’t she? It’s almost like people have to pay a bit of a toll to cross over her. One rub or scratch per person.”

  As if she recognized that she was again the center of attention, Iris sat up and began one of her many daily bathing routines. She licked at one paw and rubbed the side of her head with it, her eyes closed, and a soft purring sound rolled from her throat.

  “I take it we’re the first to arrive for the meeting,” Gap said. When Channy nodded, he added, “Lots to talk about, too. I’m anxious to hear what Triana wants to do about the vultures.”

  Channy gave a noticeable shudder at the word. “I’m creeped out to think about them stuck to the ship. Can’t we get rid of them?”

  Gap shrugged. “Probably. Oh, and I’ll bet we talk about your Dating Game. I heard it was a smash hit. Congrats to you.”

  “Thank you. You never had a doubt, did you?”

  “No, but I heard that you did,” Gap said. “What’s next on the agenda for you?”

  “Ugh, nothing right now. I want to savor the success of the Dating Game before I worry about anything else. You?”

  Gap slid down the wall to sit next to her and rubbed a hand through his hair. “The most exciting thing in my life today is getting this cut. I’m a shaggy dog. I need to go see Jenner and have him chop it off.”

  Channy laughed. “I swear you get more haircuts than anyone else on board. Besides, it doesn’t look bad to me. Trying to impress someone?”

  “Right.”

  “Speaking of which, what’s going on with you and Hannah?”

  A cloud passed over Gap’s face, and Channy quickly continued. “I mean, if you don’t want to talk about it, I understand. But you two were so cute together, and…” She trailed off.

  “I think the world of Hannah,” Gap said, nodding at two crew members who strolled past and briefly stopped to pet Iris before continuing down the hall. “But she seems to need her space right now.”

  “Have you tried talking with her?”

  “Yeah, I tried.” Gap realized he was saying more than he intended; Channy had a way of pulling that out of people without much effort. He turned to her and smiled. “Enough about me. What’s going on with you? I hear you’re part of a games group in the evenings. How come you haven’t said anything about that?”

  He noticed a momentary look of panic that streaked across her face before she recovered with her usual grin. “Oh,” she said, “it’s just a few people that get together once in a while. I thought you knew.”

  In a flash Gap thought of all the times Channy had needled him about his love life, and decided this was the perfect time for some payback. He kept an innocent look on his face as he said, “No, this is the first you’ve mentioned it. Anyone I know in the group? Maybe I should drop by and play sometime, eh?”

  The anxious look on her face lingered a bit longer this time, and he could tell that she was weighing her response.

  “Um … well, you probably know some of them,” she finally said. “I’m not sure there’s really enough room right now. You know,” she added quickly, “you have to have an even number for so many of the games. Partners and stuff, right?”

  He nodded in understanding. “Of course. Well, if someone can’t make it, I would love to sit in, okay?”

  She smiled again, obviously relieved to have dodged him. “Sure.”

  Gap had to get in one more shot. “My friend Taresh told me about it, so maybe I’ll come with him sometime and just watch.”

  He had to stifle a laugh when she almost choked. The timing was perfect, however; before she could reply they looked up to see Triana and Lita approaching from their left, while Bon briskly walked up from the right.

  “Another hallway meeting?” Lita said. “I’m starting to think we might get more done out here than in the Conference Room.” She kneeled down and gave Iris a scratch on the chin; the cat responded by closing her eyes and once again stretching out across the carpeted floor.

  “As much as I enjoy the relaxed atmosphere of the hall, let’s go ahead and move inside and get started,” Triana said. “I assume that Iris is joining us.”

  Channy, who appeared to have recovered from Gap’s comments, rubbed the cat’s belly a few times, then scooped her up. “If she gets antsy I’ll have Kylie stop by and take her up to the domes.”

  The five Council members took their seats around the conference table. Triana opened her workpad, scanned her notes, then laced her fingers together and addressed the room.

  “Before we get down to the serious business at hand, I wanted to acknowledge a few things. Channy, I apologize for missing the Dating Game. As you know by now, we had a bit of drama to deal with in the Control Room.”

  Channy waved her hand. “Yes, I know how much you were dying to join us.” There were chuckles from around the table, including Triana’s own guilty laugh. “I almost believed you invented these new creatures just to get out of attending, actually.”

  “Well,” Triana said, “I just wanted to congratulate you on another successful social event. I’ve heard rave reviews from Lita and a couple of other people. Thank you for your hard work in keeping the crew entertained. Honestly, I don’t take that lightly, and I’m grateful to have you on our team.”

  Channy looked touched. “Thank you, Tree.”

  Triana turned her attention to the opposite end of the table. “And I want to also acknowledge you, Bon, for the sacrifices you’ve made—physically and emotionally—in helping to lead us out of the Kuiper Belt. I know that your connections with the Cassini are not very pleasant, but your links provided us with a safe path to follow. So, thank you.”

  There were assorted words of agreement from the other Council members. Bon looked uncomfortable.

  “You … um, you’re welcome,” he said, and cast his gaze down at the table. Triana knew that attention was always the last thing he wanted; she punched a key on her workpad and redirected the conversation.

  “But although we are out of the danger zone with the Kuiper Belt, it would seem we have a whole new issue to deal with. By now you all know that we have picked up some unexpected passengers. I’ll let Roc fill you in with the latest information.”

  “They’re icky,” the computer said. “That’s my latest information.”

  Gap leaned forward. “Have you been able to get a close-up look with one of the exterior cameras?”

  “No, they’re in awkward places, and our cameras are set to scan outward, not so much inward. But one of them is clamped onto Dome 1, so we had a crew member scramble up onto a maintenance catwalk and get close enough to snap some shots. Icky.”

  “Why do you say that?” Channy said.

  “Ever seen the suction side of a snail, or octopus tentacle?” the computer said. “Those things give me the creeps. Blegh.”

  Triana steered the conversation back to business. “A few more pertinent details, please.”

  “Seven alien entities,” Roc said. “They have extraordinary maneuvering capabilities, they can accelerate to remarkab
le speed in the wink of an eye, they can turn on a dime—you guys wouldn’t know that expression, since you’re part of the postcurrency generation—but trust me, it means we could never outrun or dodge them.

  “As of right now we can only guess as to their makeup, including their source of energy, their guidance systems, and the sticky stuff that keeps them glued to the skin of our ship.”

  “Okay—” Triana said before Roc interrupted her.

  “Wait, one more thing. I know I called them vultures earlier, and if you really like that name, you’re welcome to keep using it. But I’ll tell you right now that what they really act like are parasites.”

  Channy grimaced. “Parasites?”

  “The official definition means ‘an organism that lives in, on, or around another organism for the sake of feeding, without benefiting or killing the host.’ From the ancient Greek parasitos, which meant ‘one who eats at another’s table.’ How’s that for detail?”

  “Feeding?” Channy said.

  “Well,” Roc said, “so they haven’t started feeding on us or anything … yet. But they have suctioned themselves onto the ship like a copepod on a shark. So, yes, I am more inclined to call them parasites than vultures. They must want something.”

  This induced silence from Galahad’s Council. Triana looked around and saw each of them considering this last comment.

  “I’ve discussed this with Roc,” she finally said, “and I think the obvious answer is an EVA.”

  Channy blinked. “An EVA? Extra vehicle something?”

  “Extravehicular activity,” Roc piped in. “What used to be known as a space walk.”

  Gap said, “I’m assuming that this would be in a Spider, right? So we go out and either shoo these things away, or…”

  Lita fixed him with a look. “Or what? Kill them?”

  “I’m not sure that sweeping them off the ship with a broom would do much good,” Gap said. “What would prevent them from glomming right back on again?”

  Lita’s voice crept higher. “You think we should kill them?”