by Dom Testa
“So they are definitely communicating with each other,” Gap said. He looked thoughtful. “I just wish we knew if that meant communication with something else.”
“Your mother ship idea?” Triana said.
He raised his eyebrows. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Why, oh why, won’t anyone ask for my input?” Roc said suddenly.
Triana rolled her eyes. “You don’t need an invitation. What do you have?”
“Well, our little winged friends not only stepped up their light show, their flapping show morphed, too.”
“The vents?”
“That’s right. A sudden and rapid shift in the venting activity. I’m convinced that it’s tied in with their communication. And, not only that, I think it’s somehow tied into how they get their power.”
There was silence as the group thought about this. Then Triana said, “Power from where?”
“I’m working on that,” Roc said. “I have a theory … but it’s a little crazy, and I’d like to get some information from Lita’s work before I go much further.”
As if on cue, Lita’s voice broke through the intercom. “Tree?”
“Yes, Lita.”
“Thought you might like to hear the news. We are no longer a morgue, and once again a hospital.”
Gap and Triana looked at each other. “It’s moving?” Gap said.
“Oh, it’s moving. The return to a vacuum and spacelike conditions resuscitated it, apparently. The lights, the vents, everything.
“And not only that,” she added, “it doesn’t seem very happy at all.”
14
She was due back in Sick House to help Lita begin the process of examining the vulture, but at the moment Alexa was sitting quietly on the edge of her bed, alone in her room. Since waking from a fitful night of sleep, she had chosen to be alone. No breakfast in the Dining Hall, not that she was hungry anyway. Katarina had obviously suspected that something was wrong, but other than a polite inquiry she had left her roommate to her own thoughts. And, though it was tempting to call Bon, Alexa reasoned that it was too soon to bring it all up again.
But this dream had been as disturbing as the last.
She had reconstructed it several times in the four hours since snapping awake, but could reach no conclusions. This time details seemed vague, which was unusual for one of her visions. Yet, again, it seemed so real. Perhaps, she decided, if she went through it one more time before going to work it would make sense.
There was darkness, a deep, heavy darkness that swallowed her. It came about swiftly; there had been bright light, then surprise, then the darkness. But surprise because of what? The sensation was unmistakable; its cause was a mystery.
The darkness had a quality about it that brought on her anxiety: it was suffocating. Not just figuratively, but literally. It was the feeling that stuck with her the most after awakening. She remembered wanting to claw the darkness away because it was somehow affecting the space around her. Had it somehow polluted the air, making it unfit for breathing? Had it somehow absorbed the air, leaving none behind for her to breathe? It was a painful feeling, sharp and daggerlike.
On top of it all, she had been powerless to do anything about it. Her arms were unable to move, as if she was paralyzed. Her need to push the darkness away was maddening, and yet it was quite obviously in total control.
What did it mean? She kept coming back to the same thought: she was in space, without protection, without a suit or helmet. The darkness of space had engulfed her, and there was no air to breathe.
But where were the stars? Why was it so utterly dark? And why could she not move? How could she have stumbled into this predicament? How could she have possibly managed to find herself alone, outside the ship, in the vacuum of space?
Unless she wasn’t alone. Was it possible, she wondered, that this was the future of everyone on the ship? Had she seen a vision where Galahad itself no longer existed, and the entire crew was adrift in space? And did their encounter with the vultures play a role in their destiny?
She sat forward on her bed and rubbed at her temples, trying to massage the frightening image from her mind. She realized that her futile attempt to make sense of these dreams was causing even more pain. Perhaps, she concluded, it wasn’t possible to decipher the meaning; and, she reminded herself, it wasn’t clear if all of her visions were destined to come true. There were so many theories of multiple universes, with infinite possibilities and outcomes; what if she was merely tapping into a menu of potential futures?
It helped ease her mind … but not much.
She had eventually spoken to Bon about the funeral dream, but this vision she would keep to herself.
With a weary sigh she pushed herself to her feet and went about her usual morning routine to prepare for a day of work. It would be a long, difficult stretch once she got to Sick House.
* * *
By the time Triana arrived, a throng had surrounded the polyglass container—although they kept a respectful distance. There was a low murmur of voices, as if they didn’t want to take a chance of upsetting the specimen. At first glance, it appeared to Triana that the vulture was distressed enough already; it darted around the interior of the container, pausing for only brief moments before continuing its frantic activity.
She stepped up beside the other crew members and watched. The vulture shot from corner to corner, edge to edge. Although it was a challenge to keep up with its movements, Triana tried to examine the various parts of the creature that she had previously seen only on the vidscreen. The vents fluttered in what seemed a random pattern, with all but a few of them active. The soft, blue-green light seeped from underneath, except when the vulture arched upward to the top of the box, whereupon the light took on a more vivid, cutting appearance, almost laserlike. And when it paused long enough on the sides, Triana was able to catch glimpses of the hollow, mouthlike opening on its belly.
She admired the stark black color, punctuated by a handful of bright yellow streaks on its underside. Funny, she thought, that it could appear both terrifying and beautiful at the same time.
From the opposite side of the container Lita caught her attention without saying a word. The two Council members eyed the vulture, then the amazed faces of their crew mates gathered around. Triana nodded as if to say, “once again we face the great unknown.” There was work to be done, but she understood that it was important for the crew to participate in the discovery.
Looking back into the box, it dawned on her that the vulture was not acting manic; it was simply a trapped animal, doing what instincts drove all creatures to do at that moment: search for a way out. It just happened that these particular creatures moved with lightning speed at all times, which gave the impression that it was frenzied. In fact, it was quite likely, she thought, that the captive was more composed than the captors.
Gradually the crew members began to peel away, most shaking their heads, their conversation animated.
Triana looked over her shoulder and saw Alexa enter the room, then immediately stop when she saw the vulture. But unlike the looks of amazement and wonder that she had seen on the faces of the others, Triana caught a glimpse of what seemed to be terror in Alexa’s eyes. The medical assistant stood frozen, her hands at her sides, for a long time. She seemed reluctant to draw any closer to the creature that tore around its transparent cage.
Lita had seen her, too. “Pretty incredible, isn’t it?” she said.
Alexa didn’t answer at first, then looked up at Lita and smiled. To Triana the smile seemed forced and uncomfortable.
“Beyond incredible,” Alexa said. The remaining crew members who had come to gape at the captured being pushed past her and left the room.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Lita said. “I’m going to turn on the probe so we can start gathering a little more hard data.” She laughed and added, “You’ll have to get a little closer if you want to help.”
Alexa took a few cautious steps forw
ard, but gave the container a wide berth as she moved around to stand beside Lita. Her gaze was again locked on the vulture; she seemed to not have even noticed Triana standing there.
Lita crept up to the box. She knelt down and examined one of the end panels, then looked back at her assistant. “Well?”
“Oh, sorry,” Alexa said, and inched closer. Triana was convinced they were the hardest steps Alexa had ever taken.
“You okay?” Triana said.
“Um … yes. Just kinda in awe, I think.”
“Like all of us,” Lita said. “Okay, once I get this running, check all of the readings. We don’t want anything to affect the vacuum. Shout out and I can shut it down right away.”
“Do you need me to do anything?” Triana said.
“Sure. Keep your eye on our little friend and let me know if it starts to react strangely.”
“And how in the world will I be able to tell?” Triana said with a laugh.
Lita grinned at her. “That’s a good point. And to be honest, I really don’t know.”
She turned back to the panel before her. When Dr. Zimmer had run through all of the potential tools that the crew might need during their journey, he was aware that there might come a time when they would need to examine objects they encountered along the way. He had ordered the construction of various containers that could simulate the environment of space. Some of the more complex scientific devices aboard, the boxes were capable of maintaining the vacuum and weightlessness of space, and could be temperature controlled. They had taken almost a year to design and build, with the idea that their most likely use would come once they entered the planetary system around Eos.
Yet now, less than a year into the mission, one was being put to use in ways they had never imagined.
“Here goes,” Lita said. Pressing her lips together, she took a quick look into the box, then snapped on the power. Immediately a tiny vidscreen came to life, displaying more detailed information about the settings, and—more important—diagnostic readings on the creature within. The information was also sent directly to Roc.
Lita made a minor adjustment, then spoke to Alexa. “Everything look good so far?”
“So far, so good,” Alexa said. “Calibration is almost complete, and … yes, Roc should be getting a stream by now. Conditions inside are stable.”
“Tree, what about our guest?”
Triana, bent over with her hands on her knees, peered through the glass. “No change that I can tell.”
“The bottom of the container houses imaging devices,” Lita said. “Keep watching, because that could have a big effect on it when they switch on. If all goes well we should have a detailed map of this thing in just a minute.”
“Everything still normal,” Alexa said.
“Roc,” Lita said, “I’m going to turn on the imaging, if you’re ready.”
“Actually, wait a moment,” the computer said, then fell quiet. All three girls waited for an explanation. Lita took her hand away from the panel.
“Before you do the standard imaging,” Roc said, “set the controls for individual particle readings.”
“Why?” Lita said. “And particles as in…?”
“Energy particles, primarily gamma and X ray. Just humor me. I’m working on a theory.”
Lita shrugged. “Okay.” She talked while she made the adjustments. “Can you give us a clue what you’re looking for?”
“Regardless of whether or not they’re technically life forms, something has to be powering them. I derive my energy from the ship’s ion drive, you get yours from those nasty things that Bon grows in the dirt. A star uses nuclear fusion. You get the idea. These things are out in the middle of deep space, and with their speed and technical abilities, they have to be pulling power—and a lot of it, I would say—from somewhere. I want to know where.”
Triana kept staring at the vulture. “Gamma rays? Really?”
“Nope,” Roc said. “I want to rule out gamma, X ray, and a bunch of others.”
Triana and Lita exchanged glances. “Any idea where he’s going with this?” Triana said.
“Not yet,” Lita said. “Okay, Roc, switching on … now.”
The vidscreen display flickered, then began to scroll an impossibly complex sequence of code.
“Whoa, look at this,” Triana said.
Lita and Alexa looked up from the panel. The vulture had slowed its movement around the box, and a minute later had settled to the bottom of its cage. The vents continued to fluctuate much as they had, but the blue-green light had increased in both activity and intensity.
“Coincidence?” Alexa said. “Maybe he’s finished with his exploration.”
“Maybe,” Lita said. “But I don’t think so.”
“No coincidence,” Roc said. “It knows what’s going on. The readings show that it’s absorbing our scan.”
“What do you mean, absorbing?”
Roc paused before answering. “It means we have all the information we’re going to get right now. Your panel is showing the outgoing scan waves; I, on the other hand, am receiving the scan images and data. Or, rather, I was. After the first thirty seconds nothing came out the other side.”
Triana stood up. “It’s … digesting the scan waves?”
“Apparently it finds them appetizing. Too bad for us, however, because it’s leaving no leftovers for us.”
“Wait a second,” Lita said, still kneeling before the panel. “It can’t completely absorb everything. All creatures emit some sort of energy, or waste. For us it’s mostly heat. Are you sure nothing is coming out?”
“Nothing,” Roc said. “You are looking at a being that takes and takes and takes, and gives nothing back. Even the light we’re seeing from the bottom is controlled. When that’s not happening, not one single particle is escaping from this thing.
“Which,” the computer added, “just about proves the theory I’ve been chewing on. And, I might add, it’s a rather fascinating scenario.”
Alexa had backed away, the look of terror once again on her face.
“Tell us,” Triana said.
“This vulture, or parasite, or whatever we end up calling it, is powered by the most prolific energy source in the universe. An unlimited supply, actually, and available without having to go to a gas station or anything.”
“And what is it?” Lita said.
“Why, Lita, I’m surprised at you,” Roc said. “You learned this in School and at Galahad training. It’s powered by dark energy.”
15
It wasn’t until the ship’s lights began to dim for the evening that Gap realized he was famished. The buzz of the morning’s activity had kept him wound up for the rest of the day, and lunch simply had not happened. He had carved out some time in the late afternoon to hit the treadmill in the gym, followed by some extended stretching exercises. Now, after a quick shower, he rushed into the Dining Hall, determined to eat everything in sight. The dinner crowd had thinned considerably; he quickly filled his tray and turned to survey the room.
Triana sat in her usual spot in the back, alone. She made eye contact and waved.
“Am I intruding on deep thoughts?” he said, pulling out the seat next to her.
“I would welcome a break from the deep ones,” Triana said. “How was the rest of your day? Hard to measure up to the morning?”
Gap wasted no time hefting a portion of salad to his mouth. “That’s for sure,” he said, chewing. “Pardon my lack of manners, I’m starving. Uh, my day. Well, things are running fine in Engineering; some of the usual scheduling issues since we’re about to start a new work cycle, but I think everyone’s starting to get used to that for the most part. Um … what else? A workout. Not much besides that.”
“Did Channy wear you out?”
He shook his head and jabbed a wedge of apple into his mouth. “Did the treadmill. She had just finished a dance class. Seemed out of sorts, if you ask me.”
“In what way?”
“
I don’t know, just not her usual Channy self. I tried to talk to her for a minute, but she acted like she had a lot on her mind. Probably nothing. But never mind my day, tell me what happened in Sick House.”
Triana leaned on the table and crossed her hands. “I’ve been sitting here trying to process all of it. There’s lots.”
“Really?” Gap said. He shoveled in another mouthful of greens, chewing vigorously. “Tell me, tell me.”
Triana smiled and indicated the corner of her own mouth. Gap took the hint and wiped a smear of dressing off his face with a napkin.
“Well, our guest certainly came back to life with a vengeance,” she said. “It’s quite active. And you know, as frightening as it is, it’s really … I don’t know, beautiful, I guess you could say. There’s something about the shape, the movement, the power. I have to admit, I’m fascinated by it.”
“That’s cool. I’ll have to stop by tomorrow and check it out. Did Lita and Roc find out anything yet?”
“Oh, you could say that,” Triana said. “You of all people will appreciate this. Roc thinks the vultures are powered by dark energy.”
Gap stopped in midchew, his gaze boring into Triana. “What?”
Triana smiled. “Yeah, I knew you’d like that. Apparently these things are built to absorb energy of all sorts, but their power comes from the universe itself.” She filled him in on the other details.
“That’s incredible,” Gap said, setting down his fork. “So they don’t give off any waste at all. Nothing.” He raised his eyebrows. “Man, they’re the ultimate in efficiency, aren’t they?”
They sat in silence for a minute, then Gap took a sip of water and fixed Triana with a look. “That makes them even more frightening, doesn’t it? I mean, you gotta wonder if we’ll be able to hold this thing very long.”
“Well, I’ll admit something to you that I didn’t say to Lita and Alexa,” Triana said in a low voice. “For some reason I can’t explain, I get the feeling that it’s just extremely patient, and letting us do our little exam. Meanwhile, I think it’s checking us out, too. Who knows, it might just be toying with us by hanging out in that container.” She shrugged. “Part of me wants to take it right back to the Spider bay and let it go.”
