by Dom Testa
Channy shook her head. Bon remained still. A thoughtful look crossed Lita’s face, and she said, “Of course we need to bring it aboard. But Manu brought up a good point. We have no idea where the pod has been, or what it might be carrying. I’m strongly suggesting that we quarantine the bay, and anyone near the pod should wear protective gear until we determine whether there’s any contamination.”
Gap nodded. “All right. I appreciate that.” He looked at each of the Council members. “What concerns me right now is that the pod is surrounded by two thousand vultures, like fighter planes escorting a bomber. I doubt that any of them will fly into the open Spider bay door when the time comes. We saw what happens when they encounter oxygen, so I expect them to keep their distance. But it’s still a little daunting to have that many buzzing around us.”
Channy spoke up. “And how do we know there aren’t more waiting to fly out of the wormhole? Or … something else that might pop out?”
“We don’t know,” Gap said. “I just wanted to make sure that everyone was up to speed on what was happening. I want us to be very careful about all of this, because we have to go under the assumption that Triana might still be aboard the pod.”
There was silence for a moment before Lita said, “I take it that the election results are temporarily being withheld?”
Gap turned one hand palm up. “That’s up to the three of you.”
Looks were exchanged. Lita seemed to go into deep thought before she spoke again. “Given several of the circumstances, I think it would be best to wait. I know it’s only a possibility, but if Triana is really aboard the pod—and assuming that she’s okay—it wouldn’t make much sense to release an announcement right now. Delaying the results a few hours won’t make much difference anyway, will it?”
Gap looked around at the other Council members. He was the only one who knew about Merit’s involvement with Hannah’s election bid. That meant that the one person most likely to squawk about a delay was lying incapacitated in the Clinic.
“I don’t think it matters,” Channy said. “I vote to see if Triana is back or not.”
Although a majority had spoken, all eyes turned to Bon. He shrugged and said, “Sure.”
Gap felt a sense of relief. He couldn’t deny that the election results weighed heavily upon him, and the distraction caused by the pod’s return—not to mention the vultures—at least temporarily shelved that issue. Now, more than ever, he yearned for Triana to reappear.
“Okay,” he said to the Council. “We’ll postpone the announcement of the election results until we see what develops in the next twelve to twenty-four hours.”
“But I know who won!” Roc said with an impish tone. “How do you expect me to keep a secret like that?”
“Nobody understands that better than me,” Channy said. “You can tell me later in private. I won’t breathe a word to anyone.”
Gap rolled his eyes. “On that note, this meeting is adjourned. Channy, will you please find Hannah and let her know our decision? I’d prefer that someone tell her in person, rather than through e-mail or the intercom.” He excused himself and quickly left the room. Channy waved good-bye to the others and followed him into the corridor.
As Bon walked towards the door, Lita reached out and grasped his arm. The door closed, leaving them alone in the Conference Room. He looked down at her hand, and then into her dark eyes. “Yes?” he said.
Lita propped herself against the table. “You realize what happened, right?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said.
“You don’t really think this new wormhole opened up right in front of us by chance, do you?”
Bon crossed his arms. “How would I know?”
“It’s not by chance,” Lita said. “I told Channy a while ago that we needed to become some sort of lighthouse for Triana to find her way back to us. We needed a beacon.”
“And?”
“And that beacon was you.”
He stared at her. “I still don’t know what you mean.”
“I think you do.”
He seemed to process for a moment, then said, “If you’re suggesting that I did this with the translator—”
Lita nodded. “I know what you’re going to say: you made contact with the Cassini hoping to find some way to reach Alexa. But in the process you apparently sent out some kind of signal, or beacon, that these … these beings, or creatures, or whatever they are, were able to home in on.”
“You don’t know that,” he said.
“Of course I don’t know it,” Lita said. “But it’s the only thing that makes sense. You reached out, and they grabbed on. Those … those pings that Roc mentioned. They had to have something to guide their search. And except for the very last flash—which was probably just a last-minute check to make sure we were where they thought we’d be—the first two flashes happened right after your connections.” She paused and gave Bon a smile. “Am I right?”
When Bon didn’t answer, she continued. “Listen, I don’t know if we owe this to fate, or to the workings of a higher power in the universe. But you went looking for Alexa, and as a result you might have led Triana back home.”
Bon pressed his lips together. Neither said a word for what seemed a long time.
“And another thing,” Lita said. “This helps to satisfy my scientific curiosity that you shrugged off. Specifically the power of thought.”
“That’s just a theory,” Bon said. “It’s never been proven.”
“I think you just did.”
He shook his head and gave a harsh laugh. “You put an awful lot of stock in my redesigned brain.”
Lita pushed off from the table and faced him. “I put a lot of stock in the power of the human mind, yes. But I’m not thinking about your mind by itself. I’ve seen studies that show what large groups of people can do when they focus together on something. Seems to me that putting the power of the Cassini behind your thoughts could accomplish things we might never have believed possible. Like reaching through space to find Triana. And if it can do that…”
Her voice trailed off, and again they stared at one another. When she spoke again, it was barely above a whisper.
“If science can explain how you’re able to reach across a galaxy to draw someone home, I don’t see why it can’t reach across other voids as well.”
She could see Bon swallow hard. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, “Maybe. Or maybe we’re both crazy. Did you consider that scientific possibility, too?” With that, he turned and walked out of the Conference Room.
Lita watched him leave. Her hand reached up to her neck, to the charcoal-colored stone that hung from the silver strand. Her gaze shifted to the window, and she considered the brilliant display of stars, and what might lie beyond them.
25
Gap delegated several of his responsibilities to various team members in the Control Room, then called down to Engineering. Ruben reported that the shield was stable for the time being, but that he would stay on top of the situation and report any changes immediately.
Roc had spent the past half hour plotting the maneuvers that would be necessary to capture the pod and bring it safely into the Spider bay. Gap reviewed the details and the timetable, and decided to oversee the action from the bay’s control room. With about ten minutes to go, he donned the pressurized EVA suit per Manu’s recommendation and stepped into the glass-enclosed booth that looked out over Galahad’s vast hangar.
Built to hold the ship’s maintenance and transport vehicles, nicknamed Spiders because of their shape and multiple hinged arms that radiated from their shell, the room was a giant airlock that emptied into space. They had launched with ten of the small craft, only eight of which were capable of sustaining life-support systems, and one of those was lost during the showdown with the stowaway. That left Galahad with seven fully functioning transport vehicles once they reached Eos, a dilemma that had been pushed to the back burner for the time being.
Th
e bay had also housed the metallic pod which had originally been launched from the doomed space station orbiting Titan, and which ultimately carried Triana through the alien wormhole. If all went according to plan, that pod would be safely tucked back into the bay within the next half hour.
Gap fought to repress the usual tinge of discomfort he felt whenever he stood in the Spider bay’s control room. He would always associate this site with heartbreak, for it was in this room that he had witnessed a connection between Triana and Bon. True, it had lasted only a few seconds, but it was an image that he knew he would never be able to erase. For the moment, however, he had work to do, and ironically that work involved rescuing Triana.
Assuming she was on the pod. “Please,” he said quietly to himself, “let her be there. Please.”
“Roc,” he said. “Is the pod maneuvering under its own power?”
“No, it appears to be drifting. My guess would be that it’s being dangled out there like a piece of cheese for us to pick up, and, should we decide to take a sniff and pass it by, they would be able to gather it back up and stuff it back through the wormhole.”
That made sense to Gap. He pulled up the data on the control room’s vidscreen and watched the numbers counting down. “Let’s make it clear to them that we have every intention of retrieving the pod. If the bay is clear, go ahead and open the door, please.”
A minute later he watched through the window as one of the bay’s large doors silently slid open.
“Magnetic beam is ready,” Roc said. “Contact in approximately three minutes.” He paused for a moment, then added, “Apparently opening the bay door was like sending up a flare. Our little vulture friends are now making a beeline for us.”
Gap shifted his gaze from the vidscreen to the bay’s open door, and an instinctual shudder passed through him. Even though the oxygen-laced atmosphere of the ship would prevent the part-mechanical-part-biological creatures from operating inside Galahad, he couldn’t help but feel that he had made the ship vulnerable by simply propping open the door. A chilling vision of waves of vultures, soaring through the opening, flashed before his eyes. He pushed it aside and concentrated on the pod.
“One minute to pod capture,” Roc said. “P.S., the escorts have arrived and are circling the ship. Correction, all but one are circling. That one has latched on to us, not far from the open door.”
“Can you give me a camera shot?” Gap said.
“It should be up on your vidscreen any moment.”
There was a flicker on the screen, and then it appeared. Gap recoiled as the image came into focus.
The dark black vulture stood out against the gray exterior of Galahad like a cosmic wound. Triangular in shape, it was pressed against the ship by an unseen force, a force that the crew now assumed was related to the mysterious dark energy that saturated the universe.
On the vidscreen he could see the vulture’s wings, now folded up along its sides, and with some magnification he was able to make out its rough, pebbled surface. The vents which ran like stitches along the sides were pulsing open and closed, and by adjusting the camera angle Gap could pick out a faint blue-green glow seeping from underneath. Though no wider than two feet across, the vulture presented an imposing—and intimidating—aura.
Gap’s dark thoughts were interrupted by Roc. “Twenty seconds. Beginning power-up … now.”
The vidscreen switched back to a graphical display, and Gap watched the pod’s capture unfold. A magnetic beam, capable of grasping nearby objects and tugging them into the Spider bay, was about to be utilized for the second time since they had departed Earth, and both occasions involved the same small metal craft.
Icons that represented both Galahad and the pod appeared to slip past each other. Then the pod’s image momentarily froze before slowly reversing course and tracking towards the ship. At the same time, Roc announced, “Capture complete. I’m now reeling her in like a marlin.”
Gap let out a long breath. “Great job. Will you let the other Council members know the status, please?” He thought about it for a second, then added, “And let Hannah know, too. Thanks.”
For all he knew, Hannah was the acting Council Leader of Galahad, even if nobody knew it yet.
He found himself fidgeting for the next few minutes as the pod crept along the magnetic stream towards the rendezvous. Four crew members, each wearing the necessary EVA suit, entered the control room. Gap nodded at them, then quickly updated them on the situation. He noticed, without commenting, that one of the crew members held an oxygen gun at his side.
A reminder, Gap thought, that we have to do everything we can to protect ourselves, especially if we’re up against a formidable opponent. Hopefully it wouldn’t be necessary.
“Stand by, I’ll have the fish in the boat in about one minute,” Roc said. “I’m a little disappointed this one didn’t kick and fight like the others usually do. Might have to throw it back.”
The door to the hallway opened and Channy walked in. Her eyes were wide, and for one of the few times on the voyage she was speechless. She gave a small wave to Gap, then walked over to the window.
Seconds later the starlight pouring through the open bay door was blotted out. The pod hovered just outside, and then gradually floated into the vast hangar. It set down in the same spot it had occupied before Triana’s departure, and the bay door was once again sealed.
Thankfully, Gap noted that not a single vulture had flown into the ship. It appeared that they were content to simply escort the pod back home. Content, at least, for the moment.
“Pressurizing,” Roc said.
Lita entered the room out of breath. “Well?” she said, then put her face up to the glass. “So … nothing else got in?”
Gap shook his head. “No. One of them is stuck on the ship right outside the bay, and the others are orbiting us like electrons.”
He turned to the crew members who stood ready. “We’ll go in as soon as the pressurization is complete. The first order of business: I want a complete visual scan of the pod. Top, bottom, sides, everywhere. I want to know if there’s anything attached, anything at all.”
Addressing Lita and Channy, he said, “I’m going in with the recovery unit, but I’d rather not take too many chances with the rest of the Council. It’s not wise for all of us to be in there at the same time, not until everything checks out.” He saw the disappointment on their faces, and quickly added, “I know you want to go in, but for now it’s best if you wait here. Lita, I’ll need you standing by in case of an emergency.”
“I brought my little black bag,” she said, patting the satchel that hung from her shoulder.
Gap nodded. “Roc, let’s get a complete external scan for radiation before I open this door, please.”
“Already underway,” the computer said. “Early indications are normal.”
Just as they were preparing to enter the bay, the door to the hallway opened again. Gap assumed it might be additional crew members coming to help and looked back over his shoulder with a casual glance.
It was Bon.
He stood in the doorway, in full EVA attire, holding his helmet under one arm. Lita and Channy were glued to the window and hadn’t noticed. Gap and Bon stared at each other for a moment in an awkward wordless exchange.
Bon never showed up unless specifically instructed to do so, Gap thought. He even treated each scheduled Council meeting like a major imposition in his busy life. And now he was here?
Lita finally turned. She looked back and forth between Gap and Bon, then walked over to stand next to the Swede. “Hey, I’m glad you’re here.” She glanced up at Gap and said, “Maybe it would be a good idea for Bon to go with you. Just in case.”
Gap watched the two of them intently. Something had passed between them, a silent look of understanding. He turned back to the door without a word; he didn’t want Bon to go with him, but could think of no reasonable argument to keep him out. It wasn’t worth the time it would take to thrash it out. In
stead, he punched in the code to break the airlock and led the small party of crew members into the hangar. He kept his gaze on the gleaming metal pod resting straight ahead, but his mind couldn’t help but replay the earlier scene between Bon and Triana. It shook him, and he clenched his hands into fists as he walked.
Soon the party had fanned out around the pod, although Bon chose to hang back, simply staring at it. A quick examination revealed nothing out of the ordinary; the craft looked exactly as it had the first time it had been brought aboard. Two windows dotted the front end of the small vessel, while block lettering and flag emblems on one side identified the countries of Earth originally responsible for its mission.
Gap walked to the rear hatch of the pod and stopped, facing the external emergency panel. He remembered their first encounter with this particular vessel, how Triana had stood in this exact spot while he watched nearby, his arm in a sling. Lita had been the first to board that time; today, nothing would stop him from being the first inside.
He had memorized the necessary code, and now punched the keys to open a small access panel. When it flipped open with a hiss, he flexed his fingers and reached inside to another keypad. After entering another string of numbers, he grasped the small handle inside the panel and looked back towards the window of the control booth. Lita gave him a supportive smile and a thumbs up.
He pulled the handle. A puff of air brushed against his helmet, and, with a metallic sigh, the hatch popped open a few inches.
Unlike their first foray into the pod, when it had loomed dark and lifeless, this time the interior was bathed in routine operating lights. They flickered, as if barely holding on to power. Not as spooky as before, Gap thought. Taking a deep breath, he reached up to the handrail in order to pull himself inside.
Without warning, his arm was grasped in a firm grip. With a start, he turned to look into a pair of ice-blue eyes.
