by C. Gockel
She looked back at the radar. “Captain— there’s something under us.”
“Probably just an aquifer or something. We’ll get Hackford to check the readouts.”
Rebecca stared at the screen. She scrolled back through the feed. “I’m no expert at this stuff, but it looks awfully big.”
Stratton slowed the buggy to a stop. He frowned at the readout.
“It’s getting shallower, too, see?” Rebecca pointed to the rising darkness in the graph. “Maybe it will surface ahead?”
Stratton shook his head. “We’re at the edge of the zone. I don’t want to risk going further until this area is fully mapped, unless there’s good reason. It’s probably just a cave system. If Hackford thinks it’s significant, I’ll okay an exploratory search for an opening.” They started moving again. “Keep the radar going, for now, we’ll reach the edge of the river and follow it back toward the ship. If there is anyone here, they’d be near water, right?”
Rebecca shrugged. “It’s as good a place to start as any. Humans, certainly, would settle near fresh water, but whatever is here— if anything, may have different needs than us. Martham was right, the Hardcoop’s assessment didn’t show any signs of permanent settlements.”
“Well, at least we can take some samples for the others while we’re there. And the Keseburg’s orders include locating a clean water source for future missions and— and settlement.” He shook his head. “That seems unreal. To say that. Settlement. To think of houses and streets. I don’t even know what a street is made out of, do you, Emery?”
“Not really,” she said. “I know the materials and the industries people used to make them, but not how to do it myself. Nor how to build a house, plant a crop or start a fire. At least— not without the draybots to help. Never seen snow or real rain. Except on the feed.”
Stratton chuckled and it echoed against his helmet. “My dad had this film he loved when I was a kid. It was made on Earth, and it was about these great beasts— cows— that roamed around on huge plains— like this, actually. And these men would watch them, guard them from other men. And that’s all they did, every day. They sat on the back of a different animal— horses. They’re too big for the zoology labs. They don’t let them reach maturity during cloning. Have you ever seen a picture of a horse, Emery?”
She shook her head. “I’ve read about them, but no, I never was much for Earth films. I thought they might disappoint me, ruin what I imagined it looked like.”
“Oh, not horses— horses are fast and strong and graceful. The men would sit on their backs and follow the cows over these huge stretches. And sometimes the horses would run . Forever, Emery, they could run forever. No ship walls, no steel decks, just— just this. ” He spread a hand toward the plain. “The sound on the Earth films isn’t as good as ours are, but when the horses ran, it sounded like your heart in the middle of a crash simulator. Thumping and thumping. I want to belong to a horse, Emery.”
“I think it’s the other way around, Captain. At least, that’s what the books say. But never mind. You’re excited about this place?”
He turned to her in shock, fumbling with the wheel and snapping his head back to the terrain ahead as they hit a bump. “You aren’t?” he asked, “There’s plants, life. We saw an animal— a living spiny thing. A real living thing. How can you not be excited?”
“It’s very early. I want to be excited, but…”
Stratton sighed. “You’re right, it is very early. I shouldn’t get my hopes up.” He fell silent and Emery felt slightly guilty for squelching his mood. “You haven’t been on as many flights as I have, Emery. I’m not a fresh pilot anymore. I’ve been on over a hundred resource missions. You know what we see on those? Rock. If we’re lucky, ice. Rock and ice and empty. So, so empty. Sometimes, on the big runs, there’s other ships, a little chatter over the feed. A nearby light if your sectors happen to be close. But mostly— mostly there’s nothing. Just dark and silence and your own tiny container of people. It’s boring. And sad. After a while, you start thinking, maybe that’s it. That maybe your whole life is just rock and ice and quiet. It was for our parents. And theirs. And everyone for hundreds of years. So when you get a shot at a planetary mission, you think, ‘why would this be any different? Just more sterile rock.’ Because why should I be special? Why should this time be the one? Just a pilot on an endless flight. But this— Emery, whatever happens, this is not more empty. Even if we can’t stay, it’s something . Some fixed point in this endless dark. It’s early, yes, but it’s already different from everything I’ve ever seen.”
“Or anyone else has seen. Since Earth.” The Captain’s enthusiasm was infectious, and Rebecca felt more optimistic than she had in days. Maybe this was a real possibility. Maybe just seeing it— just getting to breathe the free air for a few days or months was worth the risk. She thought her father might think it was. The chance to go beyond the small circuit of hallways and decks that encompassed them. She looked around with a new wonder as Stratton steered the buggy toward the soft bank of the river. He pulled to a stop and Rebecca got out, kneeling at the side of the water.
It moved in great pulses. She could hear the rush and gurgle even through the helmet. She reached out a hand, knowing she wouldn’t be able to feel it through the glove, not really, but wanting to try.
Stratton pulled on her arm. “No, Emery, not yet. Not until we make sure it really is water. We don’t know what kind of chemicals or organisms could be in there yet.”
“But we have the suits—”
“Which are decent protection against everything we’ve encountered, but this place is new. There might be something in there that can eat right through the suits.”
Rebecca nodded. Stratton handed her a sampler. “So let’s let the tools touch it first. Just in case.”
She opened the bulky case and began setting up her station. “Sorry. I just— I’ve never seen it move like that before. And what does it feel like out in the open? Is it warm? Does it taste like the Keseburg’s water? Are there fish, like in the labs?” She laughed. “Can I really get my feet wet to catch them?”
Stratton squeezed her shoulder. “This time next year, maybe we’ll be swimming in it. But for now, we have to make sure it’s safe. I need to do a filament check on the others, you have this covered?”
“Yeah, I’ll be careful.” She flipped off the audio feed so that she could concentrate and Stratton walked a few paces away to contact the rest of the crew. The robotic arm extended its hose and she adjusted it until it sunk a few inches into the flowing water. She let it cycle through the sampling program and stared into the riverbed. Stones and tiny wavering plants and tiny darting shadows. Something was living in it. The equipment beeped and she carefully packed the sample jars into the padded case. Another set racked and Rebecca re-adjusted the arm, aiming for the silt at the edge of the bank. Stratton had moved to the buggy, scrolling through the radar readout. He was speaking with Hackford. The equipment chugged and whined before buzzing harshly and stalling.
“Flaming core,” she swore, retracting the hose. Something was jammed into the end, sucked up with the silt. It glinted as she moved the arm. “What is that ?”
“Problem, Emery?”
“I’m not— can you hand me the tool kit? I need the tweezers.”
Stratton crouched down beside her, handing her the tool. “Is it a rock?”
Rebecca shook her head and squinted into the hose. “It’s— it might be, but it looks— shaped. Circular. I think.” She pulled gently on the object. It wiggled and a clod of mud dribbled out. “Metal, maybe? But that would mean—” She pulled a little harder, excited and nervous. The object slid slowly out. She winced as she felt it scrape along the silt on the sides of the hose. It had to stay undamaged. She rinsed it in the shallow water at the bank, careful not to let the tweezers lose their grip. She placed it on the moss between them and stared down at it. Stratton’s helmet clunked into hers as he tried to look.
&nb
sp; “Sorry,” he mumbled.
She didn’t even realize he’d spoken. The piece shone in the sun. A spiral of flattened metal, still showing tool marks in its edges. Rebecca turned it with the tweezers, angling it to inspect what she thought were a series of small nicks. Instead, she found they were fattened, collapsed “T” shapes descending from the peak in pairs. “Birds,” she muttered.
“What?” Stratton twisted his head to see the piece more clearly.
“They look like birds. When they’re flying overhead.”
“You mean— something made those marks on purpose? Could it just be erosion? We don’t know how long it’s been sitting in the river.”
Rebecca shook her head. “These marks are precise and deep. If it were erosion they’d be softer, they’d be sloped. These were cut. I mean, we’ll run it through the scope to be certain, but this is definitely not a wear pattern. And the metal— this isn’t naturally occurring. Not in this shape. Captain— something was here.”
Chapter Nine
“Uh— it’s noticed the specimens,” said Spixworth, crouching near the tank. “Thought you were going to tag it and release it back, Martham.”
Martham glanced over at the rodent, which scrabbled against the side of the tank. “Not done with the preliminary tests,” she said and turned back to her station.
Spixworth shook his head. “I didn’t think it was possible, but you’ve managed it somehow. I mean, sure, Emery’s a little hesitant about what’s going to happen if we settle here and Oxwell is nervous about us making an irreversible mess— but at least they’re passionate. You, Martham, are the only person I know who can be bored on an entirely new planet.”
Alice snorted a laugh and then clamped her lips shut. Spixworth turned to grin at her.
“I’m not bored, Nicholas, just focused. Something your work could benefit from having more of.” She turned back to her equipment.
“I’m plenty focused. Collected almost forty specimens today and I think Blick and I have identified food sources for at least five.” He pushed a container of broad leaves toward the other tank. Something dark and shiny scuttled over the leaves as Oxwell watched. The rodent scratched at the side of the tank with renewed vigor.
“I think it’s hungry,” said Oxwell. She knelt beside Spixworth.
“We should name it,” he said. Martham barked a laugh. “What? I name my guys. Otherwise, we’ll have a lab full of ‘its.’ Could get confusing. We should name it, for science’s sake.”
“If we’re going to start naming things, then we have to establish a taxonomy—”
“Galactic Void, Martham! I’m talking about a nickname not categorizing species.”
She shook her head and ignored him.
“What were you thinking?” Alice asked him. “Spot maybe?”
Spixworth laughed. “Spot? No, no. This is a momentous occasion. First nickname on a new planet. We can’t be lazy. Besides, looks more like a Spike to me.”
Alice rolled her eyes but grinned.
“Seriously, Martham, Spike looks hungry. I have plenty of specimens, and I found a nest of these particular spider-beetley things. Official taxonomy naming there.” He opened the container.
Martham spun around. “We don’t know anything about what it eats. I haven’t finished the tooth analysis yet, I’m not even certain whether it’s trying to go for the leaves or the insects yet. That may be poisonous to it, or the insect may be a predator—”
“You can’t let it starve,” said Alice.
“It’s only been in there a few hours. And even if it does, it could be useful to know how long they survive without food and what the death process is.”
“Seems cruel.” Spixworth frowned and closed the container again, moving it farther from the rodent so that it would calm down.
“It isn’t a pet,” said Martham, “which is why naming it is a bad idea.” She sighed. “But if it makes you feel better, I will be releasing it with the camera in the morning. We need to see if there are more of them and where.”
“Hear that, Spike? You’ll be sprung in no time.” Spixworth put his glove to the glass where the animal sniffed and scratched at it. He turned back to his own station and sat down beside his sample. He pulled the beetles over the inset camera on the counter. “You guys ready for your closeups? Alice— do you want swabs or are you overwhelmed yet?” He pulled the broad leaves carefully from the container, setting them aside in a lab tray. He’d have to remember to take photos for bite analysis afterward. Alice hovered nearby.
“I’ll take some, let me set up a rack though, or I’ll never keep them organized. Blick’s already dropped off several dozen and Rebecca is supposed to be bringing me the water samples.” She paused to watch Spixworth gently push one of the beetles onto its back so he could spread the elytra. “Why are they all so much bigger than the ones in your lab?” she asked.
“Hey, getting kind of personal there, aren’t you? My guys are just fine.”
Alice shook her head with a laugh.
Spixworth pushed the light to another angle. “I’m not certain what made the Earthlings pick the specimens that they did. Maybe they were smaller than average. Or maybe it had something to do with conditions there. Gravity, food, oxygen, predators— it is all different here. For all we know, we’re staring at the dominant species.”
“Do you ever work from a factually based hypothesis Spixworth?” asked Martham without turning around, “Or do you just indulge every fantastic fairytale that enters your brain?”
Spixworth frowned and fell silent, returning to his work. Alice was upset to see his excitement so dampened. “Come on, Beatrice,” she said, “aren’t you a little in awe of this place? Nicholas just wants to keep an open mind.”
Martham shook her head. “There’s such a thing as being too open, Oxwell. Keep your minds on the task. We’re here to collect data, not daydream up new evolutionary theory. Stick with the facts. Stick with the observations. Work within the rules of logic.”
Spixworth caught Alice’s eye and puffed out a silent breath of exasperation. Alice grinned. The feed beeped.
“Oxwell, status,” Stratton’s voice was easier, calmer than it had been before he’d left with Rebecca.
“The lab is up, we’ve started gathering specimens. Blick is still in the field, but Spixworth and Martham are here with me.”
“What about Titov and Hackford?”
“Titov just finished cleaning his suit. He’s on his way out, he’s expecting your water samples. Hackford— I don’t know about Hackford. Did you check the Wolfinger?” asked Alice.
“I’ll check in there next. I want you all back aboard before sundown. Liu estimates three hours.”
“Yes, Captain,” said Alice.
Chapter Ten
“C’mon Dorothy, I need you to check out these radargrams. I have what might be an underground structure on the far side of the river but I need confirmation.” Rebecca waited for a response from beyond the smooth, white door. “You don’t even have to leave the ship. I can bring the reports to you—”
“Yes she does,” said Captain Stratton. “We all have our jobs to do. And it’s time for Hackford to start doing hers.” He raised his voice to be heard through the door. “Twenty-four slots, Dorothy, that’s all there were, and you got one. This doesn’t even happen once a lifetime. Don’t waste it.”
He was met with silence. “I fought for you, Dorothy. Bruheim said your evals were borderline, but I said you were the best geologist on the Keseburg and I wanted you on my crew.”
There was no response and Stratton began to lose patience. He pounded on the door with his fist. “Now, Hackford. Or you’ll be facing court-martial when we return. ”
“I think she’s really frightened, Captain,” murmured Rebecca. “I don’t think she means to disrespect—”
The door slid open. Dorothy Hackford was a drooping, weeping mess. The red puff of her eyes sagged into heavy wrinkles of exhaustion. Rebecca thought she’d aged te
n years in the past day.
“It’s not so bad out there, I promise,” she offered.
Dorothy didn’t seem to hear her, just stumbled out of the cargo hold, halfway into her suit, empty arms trailing behind her. “Let me see the reports,” she mumbled.
Rebecca handed the printout to her and Dorothy flipped through it, rubbing her eyes with one palm. Captain Stratton watched her grimly, arms crossed over his chest.
“Emery, go get Dr. Cardiff,” he said. “Tell her that Hackford is getting ready to begin her field duties and we will need her assistance.”
Dorothy exchanged a panicked glance with her, but Rebecca just confirmed the order. “Yes, sir.”
She hoped the odd curves on the radargram would distract Dorothy enough for her to overcome her panic, but in the end, it took both Dr. Cardiff and herself to finish dressing the woman and all but pushing her down the airlock’s exterior ladder.
Dorothy stood at the bottom of the ladder on the dirt, sobbing and motionless.
“You have to calm down, Dorothy,” pleaded Rebecca. “Concentrate on the pages. Tell me what we’re seeing.” The radargram fluttered in a passing breeze and Dorothy dropped it as if it had scalded her. Rebecca sprinted clumsily to catch the pages.
“Look at me Hackford,” the doctor was saying behind her, “focus on what’s actually happening, not what you are afraid will happen. You’re safe . We’re just at the bottom of the ladder. Here, touch it—”
Rebecca returned just as Dr. Cardiff was placing Dorothy’s arm on the metal ladder. “There, now take a deep breath—”
Rebecca could hear Hackford gasping in her helmet. “Can’t— breathe—”
“You can, slow down. It’s the same air—” started the doctor but then Dorothy grabbed at her helmet, reaching for the clasps.
“Have to get out.”
“No!” cried Dr. Cardiff reaching to stop her. “Don’t take it off!”
