Fluency (6 page)
He was peeling the cooling suit away from the waist down when Walsh issued orders.
“Bergen, get on those air samples. Gibbs, Varma could probably use some assistance.”
Bergen bit his tongue. Compton was trained on the GC-MS and could run the air samples.
Gibbs, too.
Bergen hated the thought of Gibbs touching her. Gibbs was a
lways joking around with her.
He damn well better not be joking now,
he thought darkly and pushed himself toward the science station.
He’d just loaded the first sample and was preparing the second when he heard a commotion behind him. He turned to see Jane flailing. She was conscious, nearly naked. It looked like Gibbs and Ajaya had been trying to get a flight suit on her when she woke.
Gibbs went sailing in one direction, Jane in the other. She clutched the blue garment to her chest, her eyes wild and terrified.
“Jane,” Ajaya soothed, in cool, clinical tones, holding out a placating hand. “You are ok. You are safe. We had to get you out of the EMU so I could examine you.”
“I—I don’t remember coming back here. I feel terrible. My head hurts.”
Ajaya approached slowly. Jane flinched but didn’t push her away. Bergen’s heart was in his throat. He couldn’t tear his gaze away as Ajaya finished dressing Jane, murmuring questions and reassurances to her. Jane’s responses were monosyllabic and her movements jerky, though he couldn’t be sure what they were sa
ying to each other.
Behind him, the instrument beeped. Walsh and Compton were speaking softly to each other and Gibbs was looking conspicuously self-conscious. Finally, Gibbs came over, looking like he needed something to do and Bergen reluctantly turned back to the m
achine. The results for the first sample had just come up.
“Hey, these are—these are good!” Gibbs said.
Bergen squinted at the results, frowning. He hadn’t been sure what to expect from them, but he found them unnerving for a couple of reasons. Gibbs’ remark induced Walsh and Compton to come closer.
“The first sample has been analyzed. I need more time to run the rest of these,” Bergen said.
“This is not only breathable—this is really, really close to Earth’s atmosphere,” Gibbs enthused to Walsh.
Walsh eyed Bergen. “Why aren’t you more excited about this?”
“Because it’s so damn close. I wouldn’t expect that. Oxygen in near perfect proportions. Nitrogen, which I would expect to make up most, if not all, the balance. Trace amounts of CO2 and methane, indicating there are living things aboard. And there’s something else—there’s xenon gas. Four percent xenon seems odd. It seems high.”
Compton looked thoughtful. “We use it for ion propulsion. Perhaps they use it for something. Maybe there’s a leak som
ewhere.”
Gibbs said, “We’ve only got trace amounts of xenon in our a
tmosphere, but there are much higher percentages on Jupiter. It might be normal for their atmosphere.”
Walsh tapped the top of the instrument. “What was the atmo
spheric pressure? Once we got a few hundred yards in?”
Bergen shook his head. “That’s weird too. It was hovering around 14.7 psi. Less, here, near the capsule, due to the fact that we decompressed to open the hatch. But the farther we went in, the closer it got to ideal—sea level, Earth.”
Walsh narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like this. Someone’s in there. They know where we’re from. They’re turning on the lights, changing the gravity. What’s their angle? Why aren’t they coming forward?”
Gibbs offered, “Jane said they might be shy. They might be watching us.”
“Well, we just gave them one hell of a reality show,” Walsh muttered, glancing back at Jane and Ajaya.
Ajaya was zipping Jane into the sleeping bag attached to her seat. Jane’s eyes were closed.
Ajaya’s mouth was set in a line as she approached the group. “I’ve given her something for pain. She has a terrible headache—perhaps a migraine, though she has no history of them, not even of tension headaches. That’s all I can determine. I cannot find anything anomalous.”
“What’s she saying now?” Walsh prompted.
“Not much. I asked her what happened. She said she’s trying to figure that out. She seems reluctant to say more. She needs to sleep. In fact, we’re overdue for a sleep cycle, Commander.”
“I agree. Let’s get out of these suits, have a meal, get some rest. We’ll get back to it in nine hours.” Walsh rubbed a hand over his face. “Keep your weapons at hand.”
* * *
Something had happened to her, but he didn’t have a clue what that might be. She’d been sort of entranced by the symbols on the wall then just flipped out. That wasn’t like her at all. The entire journey, she’d been a rock—affable, even-tempered, kind. She worked hard to keep the peace under incredibly difficult circu
mstances—and succeeded.
She’d only once shown any sign that the stress was getting to her. It was shortly after getting a data stream from Houston about a month before, filled with personal emails, meant to be a morale booster. Within minutes of the download completing she was s
ilently crying and trying to hide it. It kept happening. Frequently. For days. No one else seemed to notice. He’d seen Ajaya talk to her once, but it hadn’t helped. He started to get angry that everyone was ignoring her suffering, or couldn’t see it, which seemed worse.
One day she had herself tucked into a little nook that she haunted, an electronic reader in hand. He was nearby, eating a meal, when something splashed on his face. He was sure it wasn’t food because he hadn’t opened anything wet yet. He looked up and realized it was a tear that had escaped her efforts of concealment.
He had three younger sisters. He’d observed his parents performing miracles with hugs when they were all small. He’d even stooped to it, himself, when desperate. So, it went against his better judgment, but he just couldn’t watch her struggle anymore.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to draw unwanted a
ttention. He just pulled up close and wrapped his arms around her.
She stiffened at first,
then melted into him, tucking her face into his chest, heaving soundless sobs. He waited until she pulled away, murmuring apologies, but he didn’t reply or even meet her eyes. He didn’t want to embarrass her. He just moved away. It seemed to be what she needed, because she didn’t cry again after that.
5
Jane woke up groggy. She jerked involuntarily when she remembered that this wasn’t just another artificially constructed day among the endless, monotonous hours of drifting through space. Something had finally happened. Everything had changed.
The others were going to want answers from her, but she didn’t know what to say. She felt their eyes on her from time to time. She feigned sleep and listened to them making plans.
They were hashing out how to proceed, based on the information gathered so far. Under most circumstances, the crew had been encouraged to make decisions democratically, though the final decision would always be in the hands of the team leader—in this case, Walsh.
Walsh was arguing in favor of going back into the Target wea
ring EMUs. That pretty much guaranteed Bergen would argue the opposing position. Bergen contended that would waste resources and limit their mobility. When Ajaya, Tom and Ron chimed in with Bergen, Walsh backed down and they agreed to go in unsuited, taking precautions.
The haze of pain had subsided while she slept, leaving her with a dull ache and a fairly clear memory of a surreal exchange. Could that actually have been telepathic communication? Or was it a ha
llucination? Had the confinement finally pushed her over the edge into madness? They’d coached them in Houston to be prepared for anything, but nothing could prepare someone for this.
She cataloged what she knew. The voice had sounded analyt
ical, cold. Had she been sucked into some kind of computer-simulated virtual environment? Something that tapped into the memory centers of the brain to pacify the user and get information?
She brooded over the memory the voice had conjured. It was always there, tugging at the corners of her mind, reminding her in quiet whispers how life should truly be. Now freshly and wholly manifested in a way she could never have imagined—the three of them, as they were before Australia, warm and loving, in a happy place. She’d never managed to fully recreate that feeling again.
She’d had something like it with Brian for a while, but career and work had come between them, driving it away. There was a time when Brian argued a baby would bring them closer, give them a common goal. It wasn’t a healthy solution for their relationship, but some part of her had longed for that kind of deeper bond. Brian had minimized her concerns about how it could impact her career, promised they would share the load, but he was always too stressed with his caseload or vying for partner to realistically contemplate starting a family at any given time until it was clear it would never happen. That was probably for the best, but it left her adrift, cut off from the warmth she craved.
Why would the voice remind her of that, of her personal fai
lure? Was that memory seething so close to the surface that she selected it herself? Had it been random, or had the voice chosen it, somehow knowing the effect it would have on her?
Layered over all of these questions was a sense of unease. There’d been a disquieting kind of pleasure in hearing the voice that made her feel guilty, like she was a child who’d been tricked into taking candy from a stranger. It inspired an ominous feeling—she sensed that the voice was leashed, held terrible power.
She had so many questions and no answers. She peeked through her lashes at the others. Had any of them been touched by that disembodied voice in the same way? If they had, they weren’t fessing up. That actually seemed like a sound strategy. If it was real, it would try again. The voice had said as much.
With that thought, she set her teeth, released the harness and unzipped the sleeping bag. The movement drew their eyes, as she knew it would. They were gathering equipment. She’d have to hurry to catch up with their preparations.
“Good morning,” she said solemnly.
Ajaya pushed closer. “How are you feeling, now, Jane?”
“Better,” she hedged. “What’s the plan for today?” She met Walsh’s eye squarely.
“Exploration. We go further in.” He watched her warily.
She nodded. “I’ll be ready in moments. You should have woken me.” She pushed off for the food-storage locker.
Walsh’s next statement stopped her. “You and Varma are sta
ying here.”
She grabbed the nearest handhold and twisted around. “What? You need me. I’m—”
“Varma has her orders. These are yours—tell her what happened in there yesterday.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “I’m fine!”
He held up a hand. “Save it. Gibbs will be taking pictures of any language or symbols we come across. They’ll download to your laptop automatically and you’ll be able to hear us over the two-way. Get your ducks in a row and you’ll join us tomorrow.” He turned away to check his gear. They wore oxygen monitors and carried harnesses with emergency air supply, as well as packs holding a day’s worth of ready-to-eat rations, tools and instruments.
Walsh and the three other men slipped out shortly thereafter. She could hear their surprise as they dropped into the corridor b
elow, discussing the fact that the gravity now approximated Earth’s gravity. Was that confirmation that the alien was still working to optimize conditions for them?
Jane bit her lip indecisively. Should she stop them? Ajaya closed the hatch, and the opportunity to speak up was gone.
Ajaya held out a two-way radio. Jane took it from her and began to prepare breakfast out of habit. She hadn’t expected to be left behind. She sipped lukewarm coffee from a pouch and waited for the scrambled eggs to rehydrate. If they didn’t need her to be there, why did they drag her across half of the solar system? She opened her laptop and stifled the urge to slam it onto its velcro pad harder than necessary. She could have studied images on a laptop from the comfort of home.
Ajaya hovered nearby, clearly waiting for an opportunity to do an exam and ask a lot of questions. “Jane? We should talk about what happened yesterday,” Ajaya finally ventured.
At that moment, the first image from the day before came up on the screen. Jane inhaled sharply. Ok—she hadn’t imagined that. She could see the symbol for ‘open,’ even in this format, as having depth and meaning, though her reaction wasn’t visceral this time, only simple comprehension. She swallowed thickly. Maybe she wasn’t nuts.
Ajaya eased closer and peered at the screen. “What is it about these symbols, Jane? They seem to affect you.”
“I—you don’t see it?”
“See what?”
“When I look at this symbol, it expands like a hologram. It relays information.”
“A hologram?” Ajaya indulged her by looking again,
then shook her head. “So, at first you saw them as I do and then they changed?” Ajaya’s voice sounded a little too sympathetic for Jane’s comfort.
“I know my reaction must seem extreme.”
“You are under a lot of stress.”
Jane grit her teeth. “I’m fine.”
Ajaya furrowed her brow. “Jane, you must know your guarded attitude is troubling. I would like to do a physical exam. Will you cooperate?”
Jane reluctantly closed the laptop. “Of course I will.”
She waited quietly while Ajaya took her pulse, tested her reflexes and other neurological signs, then asked a series of questions that were meant to determine mental status. She’d been through this exam before, several times. They all had.
When she was done, Ajaya turned to Jane, her fingers tapping the side of her laptop. “Your assessment is the same as it’s been for the last six months or more. You are mildly depressed, but show no other clinical signs of mental infirmity. Physically, you appear to be in good condition. I cannot explain what happened yesterday unless you divulge more.”
Jane blurted out, “Didn’t anyone else experience anything out of the ordinary? A buzzing sound inside their head?”
Ajaya was quizzical. “Buzzing? You spoke of bees yesterday. Why didn’t you say anything?”
Jane considered what to say. “At first I thought it was just nerves. But, it got stronger, building over time. When I deciphered the symbols, it suddenly became unbearable.”
Ajaya looked thoughtful. “And that is when you passed out. Have you experienced tinnitus before?”
“Tinnitus? No.”
Ajaya retrieved her otoscope, examined Jane’s ears at length,
then pulled back. “It could be Meniere’s. That’s a disturbance in the inner ear. It can have sudden onset and lead to severe vertigo. Headaches are common with it, as well. It’s very treatable. Do you hear the buzzing now? Are you feeling dizzy or perceiving any hearing loss?”
“No. I feel fine.”
“It can be very intermittent. A year may pass between episodes or they can happen every day. Do you feel any pressure in either ear—now or yesterday?”
“None.”
“I wish I could perform an audiometric exam on you, but I don’t have the equipment. Stress is known to make tinnitus worse, though it doesn’t cause it.” She seemed vexed and stowed away the equipment as she continued, “Your passing out in that moment may have been simple orthostatic hypotension. More than 80 percent of long-flight astronauts experience it. I don’t know, Jane. It doesn’t fit well with one diagnosis and that makes me uneasy. Let’s cautiously watch this. You will tell me if you have any of these or any new symptoms, won’t you?”
Jane’s vision blurred. “Of course. Of course I will.” Perhaps Ajaya could understand if she told her the rest. She swallowed and blinked, then finally said, “I’m sorry. I’ll be more forthcoming in the future, I promise.”
Jane scooped cold scrambled eggs out of a pouch, but didn’t taste them. She was itching to get back into that ship. She didn’t want to stay cooped up in the capsule for another twenty-four hours, where she couldn’t see anything firsthand.
She resumed scrutinizing the symbols, concentrating on the images taken from the exterior of the storage crates with the gran
ular contents. The cipher was elusive. She could almost see a hologram, but it was hovering just out of reach. It didn’t help that her mind kept wandering, going back to all the things the voice had said to her the day before.
“There is plentiful foodstuff, as you have already discovered.”
She blinked, stifling a startled gasp as the hologram sprang to life.
Nourishment, sustenance
…palatable, appetizing…satiety…healthful, wholesome…aggregate, composite, blend.
She wrinkled her nose. The crates were filled with some kind of nutritive food-base, a raw material used to manufacture food. The concept that formed in her mind was completely foreign. She was puzzling over that as she cleaned up the debris from breakfast, when the radio squawked. “Providence. Gibbs. Over.”
Ajaya picked up her two-way. “This is Providence. Over.”
“Just checking in. Did you get the pictures? Over.”
Jane picked up her own radio. “Yes, Ron. I’ve got eight new images. I need a little more context to be able to decipher them. I’d like to join you. Dr. Varma has determined there’s nothing seriously wrong with me. Over.”
Gibbs’ cheerful drawl came back, “Copy that, Jane. We’ll get back to you. Over.”
Moments later, the radio came back to life. “Providence, this is Walsh. We’re splitting into two teams. Gibbs and Compton are going back to get some extra shots for context and Bergen and I are going forward. Walsh out.”
“I could meet you—”
“Stay put, Holloway. Walsh out.”
Jane ground her teeth. Hiding in the capsule couldn’t protect her from what happened the day before, she was certain of that. Of course, they didn’t know that.
While she waited, she prepared a pack of things she’d need when she did go back in there, all the while ignoring Ajaya’s disapproving eyes on her. As she pulled an air canister out of its compartment, a delightfully dreamy drowsiness came over her. She blinked slowly, her limbs drifting around her, pleasantly thick and heavy.
Her heart started to pound.
She fought down panic and contemplated her options. She could try to resist. That hadn’t been an effective strategy the day before. It had only served to wear her down, exhausting her. She’d gotten next to nothing out of that interaction—certainly nothing that anyone would believe.
The hum had already begun. It was happening again.
She reminded herself that this was an opportunity to get answers. She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing deeply. The throbbing buzz grew stronger. Her thoughts slowed. She schooled herself to stop resisting, relax, stay in the moment….
She felt a surge of pleasure as awareness of a presence filled her mind.
She drowsily opened her eyes in the casita. “Hello?”
“Dr. Jane Holloway—you did not explain to the others about our arrangement.”
Jane snapped to alert. The voice sounded…pissed. Could a computer sound pissed? She slowly turned in a circle and forced her expression to be neutral, though it felt wooden and uneasy. “Hello? You haven’t told me your name—”
He interjected, sounding impatient, “I do not understand. This is vital information. You must make them aware.”
She shook her head. “They won’t believe me. They—I have no proof.”
She thought about what she was doing—producing virtual words from a virtual mouth—because her body was actually inside
the Providence, unconscious, floating around, probably bumping into things. She sank on the bed, suddenly unsure. “Maybe I am crazy.”
