by Allen Steele
Go on, girl. Get this over and done. She and Harker had spent the last evening weighing their options: first in her quarters, then in the library where they’d accessed technical information from Galileo’s data banks, and finally in Ted’s cabin, where they’d sought solace in each other’s arms. It wasn’t until this morning, though, that they’d finally agreed upon a course of action. And now…
“Captain?” Harker stopped next to Lawrence’s chair. “May I have a word with you, please?”
Lawrence raised his eyes from the lapboard. “Yes, Mr. Harker?”
“I have something…” Harker paused, waiting for Emily to join him. She stepped closer, approaching Lawrence from the other side of his chair. “A matter has come to our attention that we’d like to discuss with you…sir.”
Surprised to see her coming at him from the opposite direction, Lawrence’s expression became wary. “What…well, yes, of course.” He looked at Harker again. “What do you have on your mind?”
Simone half turned in her seat at the helm to gaze back at them. From the corner of her eye, Emily could see Arkady and Martin watching with curiosity. “I think it would be best if we discussed this in private, sir,” Harker replied. “Perhaps in your office?”
The Adam’s apple in Lawrence’s throat bobbed up and down.
He knew the protocol; if two members of the flight crew, one of whom was either the first officer or the executive officer, formally requested a private hearing, he couldn’t refuse their request. “As you wish,” he said, then he folded the lapboard and stood up. “Commander Vincenza, please take the conn until I return. Proceed with the countdown.”
“Yes, sir.” Antonia stood up, waiting for Lawrence to leave his station before she assumed command. Emily noticed that the XO didn’t seem surprised by this sudden turn of events. Ted must have warned her that something was going down. The others looked away, assuming the polite pretense that nothing unusual was happening.
The captain’s office was a small compartment located adjacent to the command center. A fold-down couch took up room where a bunk might have been; above a small desk was a shelf crammed with operations manuals and loose-leaf binders containing printouts of the ship’s log. The only touches of personality were a few framed photos on the walls; among the pictures of Lawrence’s family, there was one Emily had seen before in Ted’s quarters, a group photo from the ESA astronaut training program. Both Harker and Lawrence stood on the second row, separated from one another by several other cadet-trainees.
“Well, then,” Lawrence said once he shut the door behind them, “what do you want to see me about?” He stepped around behind his desk, motioning to the couch. “Take a seat.”
Harker remained standing, his hands clasped together behind his back. “Sir, it’s come to our attention that a torpedo has been attached to Galileo’s outer hull. We suspect that it’s a weapon of undetermined—”
“Oh, hell!” Lawrence snapped, suddenly angry. “Who told you this?”
“No one told us, sir.” Slipping from behind Ted, Emily took an identical stance beside him. “I discovered it when I went below to check out the shuttle. I determined that it was my duty to inform the first officer.”
“I see.” Lawrence calmed down, if only slightly. “And what leads you to believe that it’s a torpedo?” he added, sitting down behind the desk.
“There’s nothing else it could be, sir.” Harker continued to stand at attention. “There’s mention in our manifest of a new probe being added at the last minute…”
“Ah…and what makes you think it was? Added at the last minute, I mean?”
“Because I didn’t spot it when I flew past the ship while we were in dry dock,” Emily responded. “I saw the service module clearly at that time, and there was nothing attached to it other than the probes we were already carrying. Of that, I’m quite positive, sir.”
“Are you really?” Lawrence meant his tone to be scornful, yet it only came off as childish annoyance, like a kid who’d been caught lying and was now trying to wiggle out of it by splitting hairs. “Are you sure you haven’t mistaken it for…?”
“Yes, sir, we are.” Harker refused to be led off track. “Sir, we have strong reason to believe that this object is a torpedo, possibly containing a nuclear warhead. If that is the case, we respectfully request to know its purpose, and why it was placed aboard Galileo without the crew’s being informed.”
Lawrence silently regarded them for a moment, as if trying to decide what to do next. Then he turned around in his chair, unhooked the receiver of the intercom phone, and murmured something into it. Another moment passed, then he returned the phone to its hook and turned back to them. “Who else have you spoken to about this?”
“No one, sir,” Harker replied. He and Emily had already promised Ramirez that they’d keep him out of this. There was no reason why he should become involved any more than he already was, and he could face dire consequences if his role were to become known.
“Very good. A wise decision on your part.” Lawrence rocked back in his seat, turning his head to gaze out the porthole beside him. For a few moments he didn’t speak; it was as if he was waiting for something and knew that time was on his side. “You know, Mr. Harker,” he said at last, his voice assuming a reflective tone, “I’ve always believed that, if things had been just different, you would’ve been in command and not me. Has that ever occurred to you?”
“No, sir, it hasn’t.”
“Don’t lie to me, Ted. I’m sure it has…and we both know the reasons. That’s why I’ve allowed you a certain amount of leeway, such as ignoring your little dalliance with Lieutenant Collins here.” A sardonic smirk played across his mouth. “Don’t believe for a second I haven’t noticed what’s been going on between you two.”
Emily’s face became warm; she quickly looked down at the floor. “But that’s the nature of secrets, I suppose,” Lawrence went on. “You’ve chanced upon something you weren’t supposed to know. In hindsight, I suppose it was inevitable. All the same, we’re going to have to deal with it. What do you think…?”
A knock on the door. “Come in,” Lawrence said loudly, and Emily looked around to see Cole enter. She felt a chill, even though Ted had warned her this was possible. “Sir Peter. Thank you for joining us. Everything going well in the OC, I take it?” Without waiting for an answer, the captain nodded toward her and Ted. “Mr. Harker and Ms. Collins appear to have tumbled into…”
“Right.” Cole shut the door behind him. “Now you know.” Pushing his way between them, he took a seat upon the couch. “So…where do we go from here?”
For a second, Harker was at a loss for words, while Cole crossed his legs as if this were little more than a polite meeting between friends. “Let’s cut to the quick, shall we?” Cole went on, not waiting for a response. “You’ve become aware that a nuclear torpedo has been placed aboard ship. You want to know why it’s here, and why you haven’t been advised. Well, then, here it is…” Lifting his right hand, he raised a finger. “First, there’s little doubt that Spindrift is an alien artifact of some sort…”
“Although I’m not entirely convinced that’s the case.” Lawrence’s voice was low. “The possibility of extraterrestrial intelligence seems…well, rather far-fetched.”
Emily glanced at Harker, saw his eyes widen in surprise. “If I didn’t know better, sir,” he murmured, “I’d say that you sound like a Dominionist.”
Lawrence’s face colored; he glared at his first officer. Before he could speak, though, Cole shook his head. “I’d just as soon not get into a religious debate just now, if you don’t mind.” He shot the captain a look, and Lawrence kept his mouth shut. Cole raised another finger. “Second, if we accept that as a given, then there’s a possibility, however remote, that it may be hostile…”
“We can’t assume that,” Ted said.
“Of course not. But the possibility remains nonetheless.” Cole raised a third finger. “Third, if Spindrift is in
deed hostile, then we have to protect not only ourselves but also Earth itself. We have no idea what we may be facing out there.”
“Exactly…we don’t know.” Harker stood his ground. “Sir Peter, if this is a first-contact situation, don’t you see the risk of charging in there with guns blazing?”
“Mr. Harker, no one is suggesting that we shoot first and ask questions later…”
“Nonetheless, the mere fact that we’re carrying a nuclear weapon could jeopardize any chance of establishing peaceful contact. Not to mention the risk just having this thing aboard carries for the ship and—”
“Mr. Harker, you’re out of line,” Lawrence said, his voice terse. “Stand down.”
“Captain, you can’t—”
“Stand down, mister!” Lawrence half rose from his chair. “Or you’re relieved!”
Emily practically felt Ted tremble with outrage. She alone noticed that his right hand curled into a fist. For a moment, she thought he was going to take a swing at his former classmate. She started to raise a hand to his shoulder, but before she could, Ted slowly let out his breath.
“My apologies, sir,” he muttered. “And to you, Sir Peter.”
The tension eased, if only a degree. Still glaring at his first officer, Lawrence settled back into his chair, while Cole shifted uneasily on the couch. “I understand your concerns, Mr. Harker,” Sir Peter said quietly. “You’re thinking of your ship and its crew, and that’s commendable. To a certain extent, I share those concerns as well.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “But it’s the opinion of our government and the ESA senior directors that we take…well, certain precautions…in the event that this encounter proves to be less peaceful than we might desire.”
“I see.” Harker straightened his shoulders. “So this comes from the top?”
“From the very top, yes, that’s correct.” Cole glanced at Lawrence. “If it makes any difference, your captain wasn’t informed of this decision until shortly before launch, when he met privately with the associate director.”
Now it all fell together. Emily pursed her lips, trying to remain calm. This was why Lawrence had taken a leave of absence during training to return to Earth. It wasn’t just to have a holiday in England, but rather to be briefed by Shillinglaw.
“Naturally, this aspect of the mission remains classified,” Sir Peter continued. “We’d rather hoped that you’d remain in blissful ignorance, but…” An offhand shrug, as if all this were merely a minor nuisance. “Well, I trust that the two of you will keep this to yourselves and not tell anyone else what you’ve learned.”
“Consider that an order,” Lawrence added, his voice low and menacing.
“Aye, sir.” To Emily’s surprise, there was no trace of reluctance in Ted’s reply. He glanced at her, and the look in his eyes was as clear as words: We’re beaten. Do as he says.
“Yes, sir,” she said, feeling a tightness in her voice.
“Very good.” Lawrence appeared to be satisfied. He looked over at Cole, and Sir Peter nodded. “Right, then…resume your duties. Dismissed.”
Without another word, Harker turned to open the door. Emily followed him. The command center was very quiet. The rest of the flight crew had heard the raised voices of an argument, yet no one looked away from their consoles; this was none of their affair.
Emily watched Ted as he strode across the compartment to his station. Taking his seat, he pulled up his lapboard, punched up a status report. The countdown stood at 00:27:14. In less than a half hour, Galileo would fire its main engine and depart from the solar system. Into the abyss, and whatever awaited them.
A peaceful scientific mission, she thought. God help us.
The diametric drive made no sound. Despite the immense power generated by its zero-point energy generator, it operated in total silence, the torus creating an invisible bubble that wrapped itself around the Galileo. Within the ship, the only noise was the steady hum of the main engine, slowly but inexorably thrusting the vessel toward cruise velocity, at which point the fusion reactor would automatically shut down and allow Galileo to glide across the fabric of space-time like a surfer riding the crest of a wave that would never break.
Emily finished making up her bunk. Satisfied that the bedspread and pillows were neatly in place, she reached down to pick up the bunk by its bottom and lift it into its slot within the bulkhead. Stepping back, she took a last survey of her cabin; all her belongings had been put away, nothing had been left out that might fall over and break during retrofire and turnaround maneuvers.
Seeing that she’d taken care of everything, she unzipped her jumpsuit and hung it within the closet, then pulled out a hemp-cloth robe that she put on over her tank top and panties. She slipped her feet into a pair of paper moccasins, then, with one last look behind her, she opened the door and stepped out into the corridor. Even though she didn’t need to do so, she turned off the lights before she slid the door shut.
The passageway was deserted, as quiet as the rest of the ship. From behind the closed doors of the cabins around her, there were no voices, no clicking of keyboards. Deck C was already getting colder; obeying its programmed schedule, the AI had lowered the thermostat to 18.3°C to conserve energy. Emily padded down the corridor, her arms folded around herself, until she reached the access shaft. As she opened the hatch, she looked back to see that the AI, registering the departure of the last crew member, was dimming the ceiling lights to a thin twilight glow.
Deck B was the section of Galileo’s hab module that was the least visited, yet it was also the part of the ship that would be occupied for the longest period of the voyage. Windowless and heavily shielded, it contained the hibernation compartment in which crew and passengers would spend most of the journey. Until then, it hadn’t been used at all; the shakedown run to Mars had lasted little more than six months, and Galileo’s life-support systems were sufficient to keep the crew alive for such a relatively short time. But this mission would last considerably longer than that, so biostasis was necessary to conserve air, water, and food, not to mention to preserve the sanity of all aboard.
When Emily arrived, she found most of the flight crew already there. Shivering in their robes, they impatiently waited for Nick to put them into the biostasis cells. “Ah, there she is! Fashionably late as usual.” Arkady gallantly swept open his left arm as he assayed a formal bow. “Right this way, m’lady. Table for one or two?”
“One, please.” Emily looked around the compartment. Tables, indeed. All she saw were rows of boxlike cells, beige-white and sterile, faintly resembling old-fashioned refrigerators save for their thick windows and readout panels. Yet she knew that, if she laid her hand upon one whose lid was already shut, she’d feel not cold but warmth. No clumsy cryogenics here, but instead the more benign technology of DNA reconstruction; she’d awaken literally feeling like a new person, her dead cells replaced by nanites that, over the course of weeks and months, would select, discard and substitute them with new material cloned in situ according to the patterns of her individual genome, while drugs shut down her mind and kept her brain functioning only at those levels necessary for survival.
Immortality, of a kind…and yet, she couldn’t help but regard hibernation as a short-lived form of death, with the biostasis cells little more than temporary coffins. Like the others, her training had included a twenty-four-hour term in suspended animation, and despite the predictable jokes—You don’t look a day older than when I last saw you—she couldn’t help but regard the whole process with a certain suppressed horror. Like it or not, she was about to enter a dreamless sleep that was as close to a coma as she could get without her condition becoming terminal.
Turning away from the others, she found Ted leaning against a cell, hands shoved in the pockets of his robe. Walking over to him, she expected no more than a polite nod; to her surprise, he pulled his hands from his pockets and reached out to her. She hesitated, then let him pull her body against his, an embrace that was both comforting and
sexual.
“Hey, that’s a change,” she murmured, sliding her arms around him. “Not afraid the captain’s going to see this?”
“Relax. He and Martin are upstairs, closing down Deck A. They’ll be the last ones to go down.” Ted patted the side of the cell. “This one’s mine,” he added, giving her a lascivious grin. “You’re welcome to share, of course. I’ll even let you get on top…as always.”
“Hush!” From behind her, she heard Arkady laugh out loud. Feigning irritation, she started to shove him away. Harker resisted, though, and instead pulled her closer, affectionately burying his face in her hair.
“Something’s going on,” he whispered in her ear. “Nick tells me the captain gave him instructions to change the revival schedule…”
“The what?” She tried to keep her voice low. “I don’t…”
“The order in which we’re supposed to be revived.” Ted gently stroked her back, keeping up the pretense of giving her a farewell hug. “Lawrence told him to bring us up last, even after the science team. He didn’t say why, just told him to do so.”
Emily frowned. “I don’t get it. Why would he…?”
“I don’t know…but I’ve got my suspicions.” Ted released her, but took her hands to keep her close. “Nick’s on our side. He’s going to revive us first, right after himself, and leave the captain for last. Or at least before he brings up the science team.”
She glanced over her shoulder. At the far end of the compartment, she saw a row of six cells, their lids sealed. The science team had already been put to sleep. “He can do that?” she murmured.
“He’s the doc. He can do anything he wants.” The smile reappeared. “He’ll tell Lawrence that he noticed readings on our cells that led him to believe that our conditions were unstable, so he brought us up first as a precaution.”
