by Dom Testa
This brought Gap’s attention back to the glowing red sensor. “That sounds ominous.”
“But like all of my ideas, it makes complete sense,” Roc said. “Now that I’ve probably given you nightmares for tonight, care for another game?”
Gap shook his head. “No, I have to get back to work.”
He waved to a couple of crew members as he walked out the door and toward the lift. His mind was suddenly on active alert, and Roc’s dire suggestion lingered. The computer was right about one thing: it was entirely possible that nightmares would be in order tonight.
11
The final session of School had finished for the day, leaving the large auditorium vacant. Channy sat on the edge of the stage, reliving the euphoric feeling of the Dating Game, looking out over the sea of empty seats. Behind her, Iris padded lithely across the stage, stopping occasionally to sniff at something on the floor, her tail twitching only at the tip.
Channy waited and watched the doors in the back of the room. She had told herself that she would not be the first to show up, that she would make him wait for her. In the end, her excitement hadn’t allowed it, and instead she had arrived a full fifteen minutes early. She rationalized it by telling herself that Iris needed the exercise after being cooped up in her room for several hours.
With one hand she rubbed at the corners of her mouth; she wasn’t used to wearing anything on her lips, and the thin layer of gloss felt unnatural. Kylie surely wouldn’t mind that she had borrowed it just this once.
She glanced down at the shirt she had picked out, a flashy red cotton polo shirt. There was a slight crease near the right shoulder, which she tried pressing away with her fingers.
Cupping her hand before her mouth, she exhaled and checked her breath, silently cursing herself that she had brushed her teeth twenty minutes before leaving her room, rather than waiting until the last minute.
She quickly dropped her hand to her side as one of the rear doors flew open, and Taresh strolled in. He spied her and gave a quick wave, then walked down the aisle toward the stage. She tried not to stare at him, and forced herself to look back at Iris. The cat had wandered to the edge of the stage and plopped onto her side, one paw hanging off into space, her eyes following the progress of Taresh as he approached.
“I’m not late, am I?” he said.
“No,” Channy said. “I was a little early. Wanted to give our furry friend here a chance to stretch her legs.” She glanced at the cat sprawled a few feet away and laughed. “Although it doesn’t look like she’s stretching anything right now, does it?”
Taresh dropped into a seat on the front row. “Yes, the life of a cat. Doesn’t she sleep something like fourteen hours a day?”
“More than that, I think. Or maybe she just wants us to think she’s sleeping, and she’s actually listening to what we’re saying. Either way, you’re right, seems like a pretty good life.”
Taresh looked around the empty room. “Funny that you picked this spot to meet. I like to come here by myself sometimes, to get away, to read a little bit. Not too many people think about coming here; they’re usually either in the Dining Hall or Rec Room.” He turned his attention to Channy and grinned. “Can’t imagine that you ever look for anyplace without people.”
She wagged a finger at him. “Are you picking on me already? I’ll have you know that I enjoy some quiet time every once in a while.” When he responded with an incredulous look, she added, “At least once a month.”
They both laughed, but Channy got the sense that he was nervous about their meeting. He had likely been nervous from the moment he entered the room, which explained why he had chosen to sit in the seat rather than join her up on the stage. She decided to quit stalling.
“Well, you said that you wanted to talk again,” she said, “and I know that the domes have been pretty busy lately. So…” Her voice trailed off.
Taresh sat forward in his seat. “Yeah.” He looked down at the floor, and seemed unsure of what to say. Channy couldn’t think of anything to help him get started; he was the one who had requested that they talk. She gripped the edge of the stage with both hands and watched him.
Finally he cleared his throat and spoke. “I was impressed by your honesty in expressing your feelings. I know that it took a lot for you to send the email, and then to say something about it after Game Night. I guess it’s time I said a few things, right?”
All Channy could do was nod; her stomach was tangled, but she summoned all of her strength to appear calm and comfortable.
“You should know that I am interested in getting to know you better, like we discussed that night,” he said. “But—” He broke off and looked back down at the floor for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “But I told you that things are complicated, and you deserve to know what that means.”
Now he stood up and began to pace in front of the row of seats. Channy felt a wave of anxiety pass through her.
“For generations my family has lived in the region of India called Bihar. I grew up in Patna, just like my parents and grandparents. My family has always worked hard, always wanting more for their children than themselves. That was true with my parents, their parents, and their parents before them.
“Family is so very important in my heritage. We look after one another, we respect each other, and we love very deeply. I guess you could say that we value our heritage more than anything, because it is what has kept the bonds of our family so strong throughout our history.”
Taresh stopped pacing and made eye contact with Channy. “Over the last several years there have been many in our culture who have parted with the old ways. They have introduced not only Western technology and lifestyle, but Western behavior and beliefs. They have ultimately disregarded their family traditions and background, and have surrendered to new ways.
“My family has been very careful to balance these influences. While my grandparents and parents have gradually blended some Western ways into our lives, they have always been dedicated to preserving our Indian culture, and to preserving our strong family line.”
He paused. Channy watched him intently, but although she heard what he was saying, her mind scrambled to understand the context. What exactly was he trying to get across? She chose to remain silent, and Taresh continued.
“When I was nominated for the Galahad mission, you have no idea of the stress it placed on my family. On one hand it provided a chance for my family line to continue, to survive and spread to the stars. And yet, my mother and father were also very concerned. As my father said, ‘What good is it to preserve a heritage if that heritage is blurred?’”
He began to pace again. “In the end my family gave their blessing to me to reach for the stars, but on one condition. They asked me to give my word that I would remain true to my past, true to my sense of cultural identity.” He grew quiet for a moment, and, when his pacing brought him even with Channy, he stopped and looked at her again.
“I agreed. I gave my word that I would not lose that identity.”
Channy sat still, absorbed in what Taresh was saying, but still confused. She thought she understood … and yet it made no sense to her.
“I’m trying to understand,” she finally said softly. “Are you saying that … that you can’t see me because … because I’m not from India?”
He exhaled loudly and rubbed his forehead. “I’m saying that that’s what my family requested, yes. Our sense of cultural identity in my family is very strong. But…”
“But?”
“I’m my own person, too. I have thoughts and feelings that I often don’t understand. I know that when the opportunity came for me to apply for this mission, I was so excited that I was willing to agree to anything.”
Channy looked deep into his dark eyes. She was afraid to interrupt him now.
“I am torn, Channy. I obviously am interested in you, and that has troubled me a great deal. I want to be my own person, I want to go with whatever my heart says. Bu
t … it’s difficult.”
He slowly walked up to where she sat on the edge of the stage. He drew close, but kept his hands at his sides, unwilling—or unable—to reach out and touch her.
“You have no idea how troubled I have been. I do care about you. When you wrote that email, I wanted to respond right away. When you spoke to me in the Rec Room, I wanted to respond. But at those times, the faces of my mother and father loom before me, and their words cut through me. I think of them, and my grandparents, back on Earth, and think of the blessing that they gave me by allowing me to make this journey. I think of everything that I owe them, all of the work that they have done, all of the sacrifices that they made for me, and I think of the trust they put in me when they hugged me good-bye. I think of their dedication to our history and culture, and it’s difficult, Channy. It’s very difficult. I know this is hard for you to understand.”
She nodded. “You’re right,” she said, her voice barely audible. “It’s very hard to understand.” She tried to control her breathing, which had accelerated. “You say you care about me, but … but you can’t explore those feelings because … I’m not of your culture? No, Taresh, I don’t understand.”
He opened his mouth to answer, but stopped. Channy reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I care about you, too,” she said. “I care enough to practically make a fool of myself, but it’s because there’s something in you that I’m attracted to. Now, to find out that you have the same feelings, but can’t respond because of … this…” She felt that she was on the verge of tears, and willed them away. In their place, a touch of anger seeped in.
“If this is what you decide,” she said, “how many people of your culture are even on the ship? Fifteen? Twenty? Are you saying that they’re the only people worthy of your attention?”
Taresh reached up and covered her hand with his. “I’m saying that I am struggling with this. I haven’t decided, okay? But it’s also not something that I take lightly. I need you to be patient for now and let me think through everything.”
She nodded, and, as with the tears, consciously worked to drive away the irritation that had taken over. “I’ll try.”
He leaned forward and lightly embraced her. Then, with a shy smile, he turned and walked back up the aisle toward the door.
On the stage, Channy watched him leave. A moment later she felt something rub up against her, and looked down to find Iris stretched out with her back against Channy’s leg. She absently scratched the cat’s chin, and again felt her eyes fill with water. This time she let two single drops course down her face.
* * *
Months had passed, and yet Gap still felt uncomfortable in the Spider bay control room. He had unintentionally witnessed something pass between Triana and Bon in this very room, when his feelings for Triana had left him vulnerable. Now, even following his own brief relationship with Hannah, he still felt awkward stepping into this room; memories rushed upon him, clouding his thoughts.
Triana stood beside him, her attention focused on the small vidscreen that displayed a diagram of the route that Gap would take to locate the vultures. The only other person in the room was Mira Pereira, a tall sixteen-year-old from the Algarve coast of Portugal, who would be accompanying Gap in the Spider.
Roc had been speaking, and Gap had heard only scattered words.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “my mind was jumping ahead. What was that again?”
“You’re certainly instilling a lot of confidence,” Roc said. “Perhaps I should speak … very … slowly…?”
Triana looked up from the vidscreen. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” Gap said. “So, we’re sure that we want the one on the dome?”
The Council Leader laughed. “Wow, you did check out for a moment, didn’t you? Yes, that’s what we’ve been talking about. I don’t know if the others are causing damage or not, but I’d feel a lot better if we could pull that one off the dome. That makes me a lot more nervous than the others.”
She pointed to the screen. “Everything is plotted and laid in. This program has been downloaded into the Spider that you’ll be taking. Let’s do a visual check on all of the vultures first, and get their exact location logged. Then you can finish with the target on Dome 1. I’ll be in communication with you the whole time, but Roc will control most of the Spider’s movement at first. Once you get close, you’ll take over with manual control. It’s going to be pretty delicate maneuvering when you get close to these things. Any questions from either of you?”
Mira nodded. “I understand that this is a reconnaissance mission primarily, and a collection mission at the end. But I’m still not clear on how we defend ourselves if something goes wrong.”
“The short answer is that we don’t,” Gap said grimly. “Obviously we have the arms of the Spider at our disposal, but the speed of the vultures pretty much makes those useless.”
“It’s one of the reasons we want to bring one inside in the first place,” Triana added. “Hopefully we’ll be able to learn more about them, and find out if we even need to worry about defense.” She studied Mira’s face. “It’s not too late to back out, if you’d rather not take this on.”
“Absolutely not,” Mira said with a grin. Her dark eyes sparkled. “I wouldn’t pass this up for anything.”
“Good,” Triana said. “Okay, let’s get you guys loaded and ready to go.”
The three of them walked into the vaulted hangar, where the eight remaining Spiders awaited. The small, egg-shaped transfer vehicles had been given their names because of the multiple arms that splayed out from the sides and front. One of the Spiders was not functional, and had only been loaded for potential spare parts. Two others had been lost to space right after launch; in the space it once occupied now sat the small metal pod that had been rescued from the orbit of Titan. Its lone occupant had been Iris.
Gap approached one of the Spiders and began the procedure to open its door. Triana stood to one side and inspected the polyglass container that they hoped would soon house one of the vultures. The large rectangular box was already secured to one of the Spider’s arms; it would be up to Gap and Mira to somehow capture the alien entity and get it safely stored inside.
The Spider door slid open with a hiss. Gap helped Mira climb inside, then pulled himself up and in. He turned and looked back at Triana.
“Need me to pick up anything at the store while I’m out?”
She laughed. “Anything chocolate. Preferably dark chocolate.”
“Will do. If I’m not back before dark, leave a light on, okay?”
Triana gave him the thumbs-up. “Good luck. I’ll probably monitor from the Control Room instead of down here. Roc will oversee the launch.”
He waved to her, and she suddenly felt a twinge of fear pass through her. The lighthearted banter, she realized, was simply their way of camouflaging the stress that both must be feeling. This was more than just an ordinary housekeeping stint on Galahad’s exterior; they were once again confronting an unknown force. Although Gap was enthusiastic about the assignment, Triana knew that his insides were likely twisting and turning; hers were, and she wasn’t the one taking the risk.
She returned his wave, then walked toward the exit. At the door she looked back to see if he was still watching her, but the Spider’s hatch was sealed. In minutes it would be on the hunt.
12
Maybe you’ve wondered what would happen to you if you got caught in outer space without a protective suit or helmet. Of course, some of you have also wondered what would happen if you could squeeze inside a microwave oven, but let’s try to stay focused here, okay?
Scientists have debated how long you’d be able to survive in space, but the point is that it’s not very long (maybe one to two minutes if you’re extremely lucky), and the results are not pretty at all. Pretty grisly, actually.
So hopefully Gap closed the door properly.
* * *
Gap
adjusted the tilt of his seat and cinched up the safety harness, pulling it snug against his upper body. He stole a quick glance to his right to make sure Mira was strapped in as well. Behind them, twenty-eight seats sat empty. The Spiders were primarily designed to transport the crew from Galahad onto the surface of Eos, but were equipped with multiple arms for various duties on the exterior of the ship. Larger arms could tackle heavier payloads, while a series of smaller limbs were designed for precision work. The interiors were simple, almost bare, with space at a premium.
The two pilot seats at the front sat surrounded by an instrument panel, which now bathed Gap and Mira in a golden glow. The majority of the Spider’s maneuvering functions could be carried out by Roc, but most of Galahad’s crew members had trained for weeks on their operation. Gap had been one of those with intensive study and practice behind the craft’s function; he was comfortable at the controls, and had even taken a couple of the Spiders out for routine maintenance checks over the past several months. But, given the gravity of this particular situation, he still felt butterflies in his stomach.
He flipped on the radio. “Hello, Roc,” he said. “Beginning preflight check.”
The computer’s voice filtered through the speaker system. “Roger that.”
“What?” Gap said.
“Old-time jargon from the days of fighter pilots,” Roc replied. “I’ve never had the chance to use it, and couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I kinda like it. Roger that. It means ‘okay, understood.’ Sorta like ten-four, but much cooler sounding.”
Gap shook his head. “Okay, whatever.” He looked at the checklist on the small vidscreen in the console, and proceeded to work his way through the steps necessary to launch the Spider. A few minutes later he looked back at Mira, who had finished her own list. “Ready?”
She smiled and gave him a thumbs-up. “See,” she said, “I know a few fighter pilot moves myself.”
