The Pathfinder Project (17 page)

Despite the fact that the
Pathfinder
project’s designers had planned for much of the ship’s time to be spent in the
empty void and darkness of distant space, the observatory was still built to
block out most of the star shine during the times that they
were
Galaxy-based. Almost all of the Observatory wing’s edges were composed of
sturdy metallic “sliding door” panels that could be opened or closed to allow
in or block out as much light as desired. Naturally the telescopes were
computer-controlled and all fully adjustable also, able to change angles easily
and lengthen or retract as needed.

“Good afternoon Dr. Markham,”
Adam said pleasantly as he stepped up onto the platform she occupied near one
of the telescopes. “How are things proceeding?”

“Oh, as you may have guessed
this has been quite a treat so far,” Julie commented. “I’ve spent the last hour
alone confirming some of the truly wonderful mysteries that our Earth-based
equipment could only begin to help us speculate on. Variable stars, nebulae,
globular clusters…” she threw up her hands in delight. “You name it and I can
find you dozens of examples within the course of a few minutes. It’s literally
too
much
to explore!”

“You’ll record everything, and
then the Captain decides to transit the ship again…” grinned Adam.

“Exactly, and the entire cycle
of discovery begins all over again – from a brand new reference point!” Julie
chuckled. “I tell you Adam we’re only using
half
of our potential here,”
she commented somewhat disappointedly. “If we could have safely transited back
to Earth at this point and allowed them to download our data, it would have
sped up our learning process considerably.” She shook her head in disgust.
“That awful attack has taken away our loved ones, and now it’s limiting our
ability to streamline processing all of this new data that we’re receiving.”

“The Brotherhood of the Dragon
is not real popular over in the Lab wing, either,” noted Adam. “Glen and Thomas
are still trying to clean up the latest version of the fighter software so we
can restore power to the two long-range shuttles and our fighters.” He
shrugged. “But we
have
gotten a lot accomplished in a short amount of
time. Thomas sent me a report on the Canary probes and they performed
flawlessly in his CAS testing series.
We
wouldn’t have had to return to
Earth in order to file a report – instead we could’ve just opened a PTP window
and sent one of the Canaries.”

“Well that’s an interesting
thought,” Julie mused, slipping a pencil behind her right ear. “In other words
we can use the Canary probes to check up on Earth from time to time and see if any
of our people survived?”

“When the time is right, the
Captain will probably do just that,” decided Adam cautiously. “But in the
interim, everything depends on where we end up transiting to next.
Theoretically it’s always a one-way trip back, but when you consider how far we
could end up going…”

“Realistically one-shot trips
beyond a reasonable point are
not
something we can expect to rely on
long-term.” Julie said, completing his sentence for him. “The universe is a
creation constantly in motion,” she observed, sounding somewhat disappointed.
“And the farther we journey away from home, the more even the slightest change
in the alignment of astronomical objects will affect our navigation.”

“That’s correct, Doctor. I
have
been reading your reports!” He handed her a data disk loaded with encrypted
computer files. “This is from Thomas and Glen – it’s their latest assessment of
the
Pathfinder
’s CAS capability. I think you’ll find it an interesting
read. The Captain wants to meet tomorrow promptly at 0700 to discuss our next
move, and he instructed me to begin including you in our meetings.”

“Lovely,” said Julie with a bit
of sarcasm. “He must think we don’t have enough to do down here already. Right,
Kari?”

“That’s right, Dr. Markham,”
Kari replied heartily. “We spend most of our time here in the Observatory
playing card games.”

“I’ll make sure the Captain
hears that you need something to do,” Adam joked as he turned and headed back
toward the exit hatches. He glanced around the huge chamber. Like the
Laboratory wing on the other side of the ship, it was almost completely filled
with computers and observation equipment. “Perhaps he’ll have the Lab build you
a few more telescopes.”

“Make sure he sends lunch now
and then,” Kari called after him.

“And a pot of hot coffee!”
added Julie.

*    
* * *     *

Mary was busily sautéing onions
in the kitchen section of her quarters when the door chimed. “Come in!” she
called cheerfully and glanced up to watch Glen as he entered the small
apartment with a grocery bag tucked under one arm.

“Oh, I
love
the smell of
onions!” he declared, walking over toward her countertop area and unpacking the
sack full of food. She handed him a clean knife and he hastily began chopping
vegetables, tossing a handful now and then into the hot pan she continued to
stir. “It’s really quite something to see this ship in operation,” he said,
impressed. “Half of every galley is set up as a restaurant for the folks who
want to eat out – the other half is pretty much your average grocery store with
all kinds of fresh stuff you can bring back to your quarters.”

“Stir fry was a good idea,” she
decided. “We’re supposed to stick to a diet of mostly vegetables for the time
being, anyway.”

“And poultry,” Glen pointed
out, tossing a handful of neatly sliced chicken into the pan. He continued
chopping up additional stalks of broccoli, bok choy, carrots, porta-bella
mushrooms and cauliflower.

“Weren’t you supposed to add
the meat
first
?” Mary asked, wondering just what recipe he was
following. “Is this one of your famous bachelor concoctions, by any chance?”

“It’s
stir
fry, you
don’t
need
a recipe. Just throw everything together in a hot pan and let
the steam do the work,” he insisted, dumping a handful of freshly sliced
mushrooms into the pan. In a small mixing cup he began blending soy and oyster
sauce and then mixed in a few tablespoons of a spicy BBQ blend someone had
suggested they try along with a final dash of sesame oil. He dumped a half cup
of water into the pan and poured the sauce over the top. Steam erupted from
within the food mixture and Glen smiled in triumph.

She couldn’t help kissing him
as he reached over her shoulder to put the lid on the pan and he courteously
returned the favor. She ran her hands along his muscular chest and hugged him
mightily. They stood that way for several minutes, genuinely enjoying each
other’s company before she finally leaned up and kissed him again. “You’re
going to go hungry tonight if you keep that up,” he pointed out, taking a quick
look at his watch. He lifted the lid and stirred the mixture thoroughly, then
placed the cover back on the pan so that the steam could do its work.

“I hope we
don’t
go back
home to Earth,” Mary said suddenly, her expression growing distant. “It may be
lonely out here when we’re so far away but it’s the first time in almost a week
that I feel
safe
.”

“I know,” Glen replied, kissing
her chastely on the cheek. “Don’t think that the Captain hasn’t noticed how
many things have returned to normal since we left. He’s been interviewing the
civilian portion of our crew for most of the day, since they have as much at
stake now as we do.”

“The agenda for tomorrow’s
meeting is pretty vague,” she pointed out.

“That’s intentional. The
original charter written for this ship calls for the formation of our own
limited government. Although that may be delayed for now, I have a feeling that
everybody is still going to get a chance to speak.” He handed her a couple of
plates and some silverware, then took the pan of stir fry off the stove. They
moved over to the table and he carefully began spooning a large serving onto
each plate. Abruptly, he snapped his fingers. “You forgot the
rice
,” he
said, raising an eyebrow at her.

“No I didn’t,” she replied
matter-of-factly. “I’m watching my weight this month and that’s just a bunch of
extra carbohydrates I don’t need right now.”

“
You
watching your
weight is ridiculous,” he said playfully, taking a bite of food. “Why don’t you
leave that to me?” She frowned at him and he gave her a perplexed look. “What?”
he said defensively, “Honestly, I’ve never seen anyone walk for exercise as
much as you do. If we had stayed at Khyber Base any longer you would have worn
a hole in the exercise yard.”

“I think the formation of a
government will be a very interesting challenge,” said Mary, deciding to ignore
his semi-humorous jabs. “Especially since we have so many civilians on board
now – the eventual number assigned when we started our mission was supposed to
be considerably lower.”

“There are a lot of things that
turned out differently than we expected,” Glen commented thoughtfully. “That
doesn’t mean we can’t make some adjustments and move forward. There’s a lot to
explore out here – our new mission could be defined in terms of a few short
months or expanded to a long-term journey that takes years.”

She looked him squarely in the
eyes. “I don’t want to go back to Earth,” she repeated firmly, casually
stirring the vegetables on her plate with her fork. “I know it’s selfish, and I
know survivors back on Earth are no doubt suffering and at the mercy of that
Brotherhood. But I
don’t
want to go back.”

*    
* * *     *

Thomas woke up still feeling
very drowsy after slumbering through most of the morning and afternoon. It was
almost 5:00 p.m. in the evening when he finally sat up and yawned. He swung his
legs over the edge of the bed he had been assigned in the Medical Ward and
stood up. For the most part he felt fine, with the exception of a sharp,
burning pain in his left breast.

“What’s the deal, Doc?” he
asked cautiously, noting that Dr. Simmons had a serious look of concern on her
face. “How come my chest hurts so much?”

The Doctor frowned at him.
“Because, young Mr. Roh, the medication I gave you helped you to sleep but it
also released the tension you’ve had locked inside of you… quite probably for
years
now. That’s good old fashioned anxiety you’re feeling, and from what I can tell
you’ve got plenty of it packed away.”

“So I suppose you’re going to
send me back to my quarters to get more sleep,” he joked.

“That’s right,” Dr. Simmons
said sternly. “You’re off duty until further notice.”

“What?” Thomas asked with
growing concern. “You
can’t
do that!” In response to his excited comment
she turned and
looked
at him. The expression on her face was accompanied
by a sharp new pain in his chest. “Okay, I guess you
can
but I seriously
hope you won’t,” he decided.

“Thomas, do you have any idea
how serious this is?” she asked.

“It’s just
fatigue
,
Doctor, honest. We’ve been doing a lot of extra work lately.”

“I’m going to give you a shot
in a minute or two. After that I want you to go straight back to your quarters,
get something to eat, and then sleep straight through until tomorrow morning.”
She paused, filling a syringe with clear liquid. “When you wake up tomorrow I
want you to come straight back here – I’ve set up a 10:30 a.m. appointment for
you with Dr. Hagen.”

“Keith Hagen… the ship’s
psychiatrist? Really Doctor, I think you’re over-reacting here just a little
bit. I’m not going crazy!”

“Neither are the other people
currently being treated for stress-related symptoms,” stated Karen firmly. “But
they need our help, just like you do.”

“I have to talk to Glen and the
Captain first, Doctor. They’re expecting me…”

“They’re expecting you to do
whatever
I
tell you for the time being,” said Dr. Simmons. “I’ve already
cleared this with both of them. You’re on emergency sick leave until further
notice.”

“What do I need another shot
for?” Thomas asked. “I’m still drowsy from those pills you gave me. What was
that… about nine or ten hours ago?”

“You’re still drowsy because
the medication I gave you takes a lot longer to clear out of your system than
some of our modern stuff,” she said, swabbing his arm with an alcohol-soaked
cotton ball and then using the hypodermic needle to administer an injection.
“My first priority was to get you some uninterrupted sleep, and the second is
to begin uncoiling that spring you’ve got so tightly wound in your chest...”
She held up the empty syringe for emphasis. “…And that’s going to take some
time, young man.”

“Do you know
how
far
behind I’m going to fall in my duties if I’m gone for more than a day or so?”
he asked her. “Seriously, there’s a lot to be done, Doctor, and I’m a crucial
part…”

“Your
health
is more
important to me than your
career
,” Dr. Simmons interrupted. “And that’s
what bothers me most at this point. It should be more important to
you
,
too.” Thomas suddenly felt a wave of dizziness shake him, and he touched the
side of the bed with one hand to steady himself. “If I were you I’d go and get
something to eat while you still can,” suggested Karen. “In about a half hour
you had better be in bed. If you don’t call me and let me know when you’re
tucked away in your quarters, I’ll notify two of my assistants to bring you
back here.”

She could tell that he didn’t
like the situation one bit, but the young twenty-eight year old scientist
nodded in agreement and quickly exited back into the main area of the ship.
Thomas was the seventh person so far that she had treated after diagnosing
severe stress, burnout, and post-traumatic stress disorder. And there were so
many others, fortunately with lesser symptoms that had been caught early
enough. The Doctor watched the door close behind the young man and wondered how
many more people with similar problems she would be meeting before their
situation stabilized. They were isolated, alone, and unable to call for help.
Those circumstances had steeled her and made her even more determined to make
certain that their best people stayed healthy and able to cope with the dire
life-and-death conditions that had unexpectedly been thrown at them.