Ad Astra (14 page)

"Excuse me?"

The pilot raised her eyebrows. "You don't understand?"

"Well, yeah. I just didn't expect that from, uh…"

"And old broad? I'm not that old, kid. And I'm a pilot, which means I value having someone with a good brain backing me up." She shook her head, gazing at the airlock leading to the shuttle bay. "You can train somebody to the point they stop thinking. Yeah, you do understand, don't you? All we've ever dealt with on the Terra are the same things, over and over again. I expect to deal with something new on that planet."

Greg smiled. "I sure hope so, ma'am."

"Give me a break. I'm not that old. It's Gayle." She checked her watch. "Come on. The schedule of events calls for our passengers to arrive in exactly twenty minutes, so I'm sure that's exactly when they'll all show up. Let's get some checks done."

The airlock felt no different from any of the airlocks Greg had used to access the outside of the Terra's hull, but instead of open space it led into the bay of the shuttle. A dozen seats, six to a side, filled the upper part of the bay, while a hatch labeled 'cargo' led to a lower area. Gayle Trey led the way forward through another hatch into the small cockpit, then indicated the seat next to her. "That's the flight mechanic's position. Strap in tight when the time comes."

"Yes, ma'am. Sorry."

"You'll get over it. So will I." She rubbed her cheeks with both palms, eyeing the navigational display. "We've been surveying the planet from orbit since we arrived, you know. We'll be landing on a plain not far from a major river. It's in what should be the planet's temperate zone, and looks well suited for a colony." Gayle grinned indulgently at Greg, who suddenly realized he had a huge smile on his face. "Really looking forward to it, huh?"

"You bet."

A chime announced the arrival of the passengers. "Wait here."

Greg pretended to study the instruments while Gayle led the survey team into the shuttle bay, then frowned as he heard a sharp voice. "Rules require the senior qualified mechanic in cases such as this."

"No, they don't," Gayle replied in a polite but unyielding tone. "The Rules state the senior qualified individual should be used
if
all other factors are equal. As pilot for this mission, I decide whether all other factors are indeed equal. It is my judgment that Mechanic Tyre is best qualified, and the Rules give my judgment priority."

Mumbles, grumbles and the rattle of seat harnesses being fastened were the only other sounds until Gayle returned and sealed the hatch. "You ready? she asked Greg.

Greg belatedly realized he hadn't strapped himself in and fumbled with the straps, trying to sort out the tangle. "Blast it."

"It's not
that
complicated." Greg flushed as he saw Gayle watching him with an amused expression. "A bit nervous?"

"Hell, yes."

"Me, too. I've never actually flown this thing in atmosphere or a planetary gravity field. Just simulations. It ought to be interesting to see how accurate the simulations are, huh?"

Greg's eyes widened. "Uh, yeah."

She checked some readings on the panel before her, then smiled thinly. "Every month I've come in here and run system checks. Every month. Just like my dad did. Just like his mother did. Now I finally get to use it. I get to
do
something with it."

"It sounds like you're looking forward to it."

"Damn straight. Let's go."

Greg's stomach protested the shuttle's movement. A lifetime on the massive Terra hadn't prepared him for the lurches and swings of a much smaller craft. He gulped, praying he wouldn't lose his last meal, and glanced over at the pilot. Gayle sat, her eyes locked on the display, her hands gripping the controls ever so lightly.

The shuttle skipped across the upper atmosphere, shedding velocity and losing altitude, the outside image on the display growing wavery as turbulence and heat distorted the view. Gayle pushed the shuttle lower, easing up slightly as its structure vibrated under the strain. The sky grew bluer, the land more defined. Something white shot by in a flash, startling Greg, then another. "Clouds," Gayle breathed, like someone who'd just seen a miraculous vision.

Greg fought down a wave of panic as the planet's surface jumped toward them. Gayle touched the controls gently, correcting the shuttle's approach to the open field, as grass and other vegetation shot by close underneath. The forward braking thrusters fired, reducing the landing velocity, then the shuttle transitioned to hover before gently coming to rest.

Greg waited impatiently while the survey team painstakingly tested the planet's atmosphere. The atmosphere had already been sampled a dozen times by automated probes, but none of the team seemed willing to trust that data. Finally, the leader signaled approval and the shuttle's exterior hatch was cracked.

"What do you think?" Gayle had followed Greg out of the shuttle and stood beside him now, staring around.

"It's…overwhelming." New sights, new sounds, views running off to an horizon which seemed impossibly distant. "I've been in Earth-based sims, but this is…is…so much more."

"Yeah." She bent to feel the grass-like stalks beneath their feet, then jumped backwards as something small and grayish scuttled away from her hand. "A bug! Look! A bug!"

"Really?" It looked like the pictures he'd seen of bugs, anyway, though Greg had an impression of ten legs instead of six before the creature vanished into the surrounding field. "Does it bite?"

"It didn't bite me."

A shout echoed from where the survey team had huddled together. "Look out!" The team scattered in all directions, one member waving frantically toward Gayle and Greg. "Life forms! Insectile life forms! Look out! They're in the grass!"

"I guess they found a bug, too," Greg remarked. He eyed the ground uneasily, shifting his feet. "How many are there? Am I standing on one?"

Gayle took a step back onto the shuttle's ladder. "Maybe. Hey!" She swung one hand in a frantic motion as a small, gray object fluttered erratically near her head. "Another bug. A flying one. Bug repellent. We need bug repellent."

"That's right. We have the formula for that, don't we? If it works on bugs here." Greg brushed his hair back in annoyance as a breeze flipped it over his eyes. "Somebody's got the vent fans set too high."

"Vent fans?"

"Yeah, the -. Oh. That's, uh, wind, right?"

"Right. It sets its own speed." Gayle squinted around. "Annoying, isn't it? I want to turn it down, too. Setting up house on a plain might not be a good idea if wind's a problem. What's that shining over there?"

Greg followed her gaze. "Water, I think. Isn't that where that river is?"

"Uh huh. Good call."

Several survey team members came to cluster near the shuttle, one nervously staring toward the river as well. "That's dangerous, you know."

"Dangerous?" Greg questioned.

"Running water. Rapids. Undertows. Aquatic predators. Mud flats. Very dangerous."

"It looks sort of pretty from here."

"So does a neutron star from a distance. That doesn't mean you want to get near it."

"Floods," another stated.

"Right. Rivers can flood. Maybe we want to be someplace higher. The mountains? Aren't there fewer insects in the mountains?"

The first surveyor checked his data unit. "Yes. At least, that was the case on Earth. But it's colder in the mountains. And, uh, landslides."

"Landslides?"

"Falling rocks and soil. And snowslides. Same thing, in winter."

The surveyors headed slowly away from the shuttle again, scanning the grass as they carefully placed each foot.

Greg watched them, then jerked back as another bug zipped past his face. "Gayle? Do we have any of that bug repellent on the shuttle?"

"I sure hope so. Let's find out."

"I wonder why we didn't think to put it on before we left the shuttle?"

"Probably for the same reason we didn't think to wear hats." Gayle squinted into the sun. "That's a little too bright to be comfortable, too. Maybe we could get, uh…"

Another surveyor, gingerly walking past, looked over at her. "Sunburn. Yes. Painful."

"How do you know if you're getting sunburn?"

"Check your first aid manual for depictions of radiation burns. A sunburn is simply a relatively mild form of radiation burn. And that means it can lead to skin cancer. You should minimize exposure."

"Radiation burns? Just from walking around?" Greg shaded his eyes. "Is there anything down here that isn't dangerous or annoying?"

The surveyor paused, as if taking the question absolutely seriously. "We're still checking the planet out."

Some hours later, the surveying team gathered back at the shuttle. Some of them, those with the fairest skins, showed the blush of what the alarmed medical team member announced to be the first traces of sunburn. An additional hour was spent exhaustively searching for bugs which might be hiding in anyone's clothing or equipment. The flight back proved uneventful, more tiring than exciting after the labors of the past hours. Yet, as the survey team filed off the shuttle and back into the hull of the Terra, their spirits obviously rose. "We're back!" the team leader announced happily. "Everyone, get your reports filed as soon as possible."

Greg watch them leave. "Gayle?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"Back on the planet, those team members looked unhappy and uncomfortable the entire time. Now, they couldn't be happier."

"What'd you expect? They're home."

Greg looked around at the metal making up the surfaces all around. "Yeah, but…not anymore. We have to think of that planet as home."

"That's not going to be easy, Greg. Even for younger types."

#

"How long are they going to take to evaluate this planet?" Jane demanded. "It's been three weeks since you went down and nothing's happened. They haven't even staged one of their stupid contests, like 'let's name the planet.'"

Greg shook his head. "I don't know that any more than you do."

"At least I have my rock. Thanks for bringing that back, anyway." She slapped the table top. "They haven't even sent down any more survey teams! They're just analyzing and reanalyzing the stuff gathered by the first team."

"The automated probes on the surface are still sending back data -."

"If we wanted to examine this world by automated probes then humans didn't need to come out here in the first place!" Jane subsided, then glanced around Port One. "Where's your buddy Carl?"

"I thought he was your buddy, too."

"Well…where's he been?"

"I heard from him real briefly. Apparently you're not the only one chafing at the bit to get on the planet. Social programs is working overtime to keep everyone calm, productive and happy."

"Ugh. I'm sorry, Greg, I used to like Carl a lot, too, but the more I think about his job…"

"I know. But Carl's doing it for good reasons. He doesn't buy into it as an end-all like the elders in social programs."

"He didn't when he started out. That was years ago."

Greg frowned down at the table. "I don't think he's changed that much."

"You -. Who's that?"

Greg followed Jane's gaze to where a woman had entered the room, her maturity making her stand out next to the twenty-somethings who usually frequented the lounge. "Gayle Tyre. The shuttle pilot who took us down to the planet. She's good people, Jane."

"I remember you told me that. What's she doing here? Did she take a liking to you or something?"

"She's a little bit older than me, Jane."

"Some women like that. So do some men."

"Not this one. Besides, I prefer planetary geologists to pilots. I got you a rock, didn't I?"

"Be still my heart."

The pilot scanned the tables until her eyes settled on Greg. Gayle beckoned Greg silently, eyed Jane for a moment appraisingly, then gestured her along as well. Greg and Jane exchanged glances, then rose to follow the pilot out of the lounge. They walked swiftly and silently through a procession of hatches and passageways until they reached a small compartment whose walls were lined with shelves holding pieces of equipment. When Gayle had sealed the hatch behind them, she waved around. "Junkyard. Stuff that can't be fixed and has been stripped of everything worth cannibalizing."

Greg stared around in amazement. "It can't be fixed?"

"This ship's a closed system. Eventually, even our stockpiles run low, even our repair and fabrication facilities run out of certain materials. And, no, the general populace isn't told. It might cause 'alarm.'"

"Why'd you bring us here?"

"Because the surveillance gear in this room is also busted. It's been cannibalized to keep the cameras and mikes going in other rooms, where seditious youngsters like yourselves gather." The pilot slumped against the nearest wall. "The town council's made a decision."

"About what?"

"The future. Their's and our's. The planet's been declared unsuitable for habitation."

"What?" Jane seemed to be in shock. "Why?"

"All kinds of reasons. Weather. Mercy, it can rain down there. Or get cold. Or hot. The wind blows. Right, Greg? Bugs. Animals. Plants growing all over the place. Tectonic activity. You might get earthquakes."

"That's just like Earth!"

"It's not being judged by people who've ever lived on Earth, young lady. It's being judged by people who've spent their entire lives, like their parents before them, inside a world where the temperature is always maintained at a comfortable level, there's no bugs in the beds, the plants are all kept in pots and the only storms are emotional."

"But…but…" Jane looked at Greg helplessly. "Any planet will be like that. Any livable planet. They can't evaluate a living world by the criteria of a climate-controlled ship!"

Gayle grimaced. "You saw them, Greg. On the surface. How'd most of the landing party react?"

"As if they'd been dropped into the first-stage recycling tanks. I sort of understood that. I mean, it was all so uncontrolled. So wild. But they were looking for a reason to reject the world, anyway, weren't they?"