Authors: Karl Kofoed
Infinite Reef (28 page)
The aerial exhibition continued during the time it took Alex and Mary to walk to the park at the end of the peninsula, where a band was assembled on the stage of the pavilion, performing the same musical selections that had been played to the crew of
Diver
by the aliens. It was being broadcast on loudspeakers all over the cylinder.
Echoes began to fill the air and a resonating tone grew louder and louder. The music had a harmonic tone that could be heard, as well as felt, by everyone.
As Alex and Mary neared the pavilion, an elderly gentleman carrying a large case looked at Alex and said, “Hear that?”
“You mean the music?”
The man nodded. “I mean the resonance, lad,” he said, smiling confidently. “Concert C, it is. I have perfect pitch.” He gave Mary and approving glance and winked.
Mary smiled. “Is there some significance to that?”
The gentleman shrugged. “I think so.”
A squadron of ultralights whizzed overhead, only a few meters above them. Mary ducked a bit when they passed, then her eyes returned to the man. “You mean that all the songs are in the same key?”
“No, no,” he answered. “I was talking about the biocylinder. It’s resonating. Concert C. As a musician I find that interesting.”
“Are you in the orchestra?” Mary asked, pointing at the case the man carried.
“Contrabassoon,” said the man. “I’m a bit late, I’m afraid.” Then he trotted off toward the stage as another squadron of ultralights buzzed the crowd. The planes looped crazily overhead and Alex thought he heard one the pilots laughing above the buzz of engines. The laugh turned into a piercing scream. There was a sickening thump and a crack. Alex looked up in time to see two planes spiral out of control and disappear behind some trees on the opposite side of the peninsula.
People began to run toward the grove. A few moments later one of the ultralights appeared again some distance away, wobbling, but under control. Behind the trees a plume of smoke began to rise into the air. Moments later, below the stage on the pavilion, two doors opened and three security carts sped out, turning in the direction of the gray smoke. The crowd began to run faster toward presumed crash site.
Alex scanned the skies. The other ultralights had regrouped and were circling the central core in an orderly fashion.
“Dingers, Mary,” Alex muttered, “I think the contest is over.”
The music on the loudspeakers suddenly ceased, and was replaced by the voice of the Commander, who was now at a podium at the center stage. He was waving an arm, bidding the crowd to stay. “We have a pilot down in Lake Geneva, everyone,” he implored them. “But we don’t need a mob there. Please keep the area clear for the emergency team.”
The people were shouting and screaming, drowning out the Commander’s words. In a few minutes the only people remaining on the grassy concourse were women, children, elderly people, and Alex and Mary.
Suddenly Alex heard a familiar voice call to him, and Tony emerged from the doors under the stage. “Yo, Alex, whose plane was that?”
“I don’t know. But let’s go to the stage,” answered Mary. “Johnny will get the info first.”
Johnny was standing helplessly at the podium, staring at the rising column of smoke when the three of them climbed the stairs to the stage. He seemed relieved to see them.
Alex put a hand on the Commander’s shoulder. “Nice try, Johnny. At least some of us listened to you,” he said.
“Not enough, it seems.” Johnny frowned as he watched the crowd disappear into the trees. “I thought the crew would be more obedient by now.”
“Half of them are probably gassed on geebrew,” said Alex.
“Whose plane went down?” Tony asked. “Have you heard?”
“Its color was black. That’s all I know at the moment.” Johnny’s gaze was fixed on place he had lost sight of the ultralight. Heavier black smoke was now rising from the site and the plume was now moving parallel to the ground, forming a shadowy belt that was beginning to wind its way around the cylinder.
Like Johnny, Tony stared helplessly at the smoke. “Norma and Connie were both up there.”
“What color were their ultralights?” Alex asked.
“Black.” Tony took off his spectacles and wiped them on the sleeve of his coveralls. He put them on again and scanned the skies.
“I can see only one black one flying,” observed Mary.
“Dingers.” Alex squinted at the sky. “Me too.” The ultralights were all slowly moving toward the hangars at either hub.
“Maybe they’re in the hangar already,” he added hopefully.
Johnny walked to the podium, touched a small electronic console, and a small screen opened. Another touch brought up an image on its small screen. Alex stepped closer for a better look.
“We have surveillance drones that launch in an emergency,” said Johnny. “One’s approaching the site now.”
Alex peered over the Commander’s shoulder at the image coming in from one of the drones. It was nearing the site of the crash. Alex recognized the flat gray panels and girders of the empty lakebed. In the corner of the screen, and getting larger each second, was a pile of smoldering wreckage. It was recognizable as an ultralight only because of the crumpled wing parts strewn about the area. As the drone neared the site, so did a service vehicle full of rescuers wearing flameproof suits and helmets. The drone’s movement stopped and it hovered, watching the scene.
Alex noticed that Johnny had touched his console. “Are you controlling that bird?”
Johnny nodded as he fumbled with the controls. The image wobbled crazily, then stabilized. “This is the first time I’ve used this thing,” he admitted. “I’m trying to zoom in.”
The image blurred for a moment, then sharpened again and zoomed in on the wreck.
“I can’t tell if the plane was black or just scorched,” Johnny said.
“Those wing fragments are black,” noted Alex, pointing to the edge of the screen.
The rescue workers’ silvery garments glittered in the remaining flames as they used frost lasers to dampen the heat.
Gradually the fire and smoke vanished under the invisible beam. Moments later a body was pulled free of the wreckage. Alex recognized the victim as Connie Tsu. He turned away and found Mary and Tony standing behind him.
“That’s Connie, isn’t it?” asked Tony, his voice shaking with emotion.
Alex didn’t answer. Nobody could. The answer was obvious, as Connie’s black helmet, bearing the letters TSU, rolled out of the wreck.
“Maybe she’s just unconscious,” said Mary, hopefully. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”
Johnny touched his console. “This is Commander Baltadonis. What is the condition of the pilot?”
A tinny voice responded from a speaker in the podium. “Captain Wakely, security, sir. It’s Lieutenant Tsu, sir. We have no life signs. Getting her to Meds. ETA ten minutes.”
“Faster if you can manage it, Wakely,” Johnny ordered as he turned to face the group. “There’s still time. We might get her patched up.”
Behind them, the orchestra began packing up their instruments. The Commander watched them without comment. It was clear to everyone that the festivities had ended.
Alex caught Mary’s eye. In his thoughts he heard her say clearly, “She’s gone, Alex.”
It took some time for the news to circulate through the crew of
Goddard
, many of whom were below decks celebrating, but within an hour everyone aboard knew that one of the ship’s best shuttle pilots was dead. As Alex and Mary headed toward the hospital to pay their last respects to their friend, they heard a noise above. “Another group of ultralights,” exclaimed Mary pointing into the curving sky. “I thought everything was canceled.”
Five planes flew slowly overhead in chevron formation with a noticeable gap on one side. “The missing plane formation,” said Alex. “It’s a tribute to Connie.”
Mary began to cry, and Alex put an arm around her and held her tight. “She died as a pilot, Mary,” he said. “Maybe that’s the way she would have wanted to go.” They watched in silence as the ultralight formation continued its slow passage around the cylinder. After a full circuit the planes gained altitude, and one at a time they flew into the hangar at the hub.
Chapter 11
1
Connie’s bloodied and blackened body was slipped into a cryopak that would eventually be returned to her only real home, a small out of the way base on Jupiter’s moon Callisto. A chaplain of Connie’s Hindush faith insisted that she should be cremated, and the Commander ultimately had to intervene personally and tell the cleric that cremation was impossible because the
Goddard
had no crematorium. Mission directives required all casualties be brought back to the solar system, but the holy man wasn’t moved by rules created by, as he put it, bureaucrats and godless scientists. “A person’s mortal soul,” he raged, “is at stake here.”
Alex and Mary regretted being on hand at all, listening quietly while the holy man made his case over and over. Finally the Commander, with sincere apologies, had the man removed from the hospital. Johnny explained that the cleric, Shafsma O’Rourke, was one of several religious chaplains who had begun speaking out against the Lalande mission soon after the
Goddard
had arrived in the system.
From time to time Alex and Mary had seen evidence of their rallies, mostly at night on the great plain of the cylinder.
Until now they had assumed those mysterious gatherings represented labor troubles, as might be expected with a group as large as
Goddard’s
. But the idea of religious friction was a new consideration, and they watched, amazed, as Chaplain O’Rourke began screaming threats of mutiny as three security guards took him away.
Soon after the incident Johnny and his assistant Ned accompanied Alex and Mary in a tubecar back to Master Control.
The Commander admitted that a number of devout members of the crew had succumbed to what he termed ‘spiritual doubt’; a feeling of displacement, of being in a foreign universe whose skies were unfamiliar, cold, and foreboding. “Being in such circumstances is a test for us all, I suppose,” he added with dismay.
“But they knew what they were getting into,” Alex argued. “The nature of the mission has never changed. I thought everyone knew what to expect before they joined up.”
“The issue centers, I think, on the aliens. Many aboard never believed we’d find a civilization here,” offered Ned. “Most of the religious types didn’t expect to find life at all. They came along solely for the sake of the crew.”
“I don’t see why that should challenge their faith,” said Mary. “Isn’t that a personal issue? Besides, if God created the Universe, isn’t He everywhere?”
“A reasonable assumption,” answered Johnny with a shrug. “But not shared by everyone, it seems. I’ve observed over the years that the more passionate a person’s religion, the more conservative their view. It goes with the responsibilities of leading a church, I guess. We saw it again and again among the Terraformers on Mars. The chaplains want to lead people to faith, but in the end it becomes politics. Like I said, nearly all of our chaplains came for the sake of the crew, not for research.
O’Rourke most of all.”
“Hard to blame him for that,” offered Alex.
“Exactly,” said Ned, with a cynical grin. ”Blame them and they become martyrs.”
The interior of the cylinder was darkening when they arrived at the door to Master Control. Here and there, as far away as Alex could see, small teams of workers scurried about preparing the cylinder for flight, but when the doors opened, the fevered activity inside the control room outmatched anything going on outside.
The room was already darkened, and a scale model of the Lalande system was rotating slowly on the holographic screen above the com. Johnny watched it as he walked to his station at the center of the room.
In the lounge a line of crewmen waited for a turn at the refreshment panel. Alex and Mary had to wait for the crowd to clear before they could enter the lounge’s observation area. The tubecar ride had left Mary feeling ill, and she finally pushed her way through toward the empty sofa in the corner of the lounge. “Make way for the queen,” griped a security officer as she pushed her way past him.
“I’m sorry I bumped you,” Mary apologized. “I just need to sit down for a bit.”
But Alex wasn’t as forgiving. “Queen?” he snapped, grabbing the officer’s arm. “She’s a crewman same as you.”
The officer blushed when everyone looked at him. “Sorry, sir.”
Mary made no comment as she sat down. Her eyes went to the screen on the far wall and stayed there. Alex stifled his anger. “That’s okay,” he said, loosening his grip on the man’s sleeve and patting it smooth. “That’s okay. We’re all on edge, I guess.”
“Thank you, Captain Rose, sir,” replied the officer, a young black man in his mid twenties. He looked at Mary sympathetically and noticed the distress clearly etched on her perfect features. “I didn’t know it was you. Is ... is she okay?”
“A rough tube ride, I guess,” said Alex. “Right, Mary?” He smiled in her direction.
Mary didn’t respond. She sat stiffly, staring blankly at the screen.
The officer nodded. “Yeah. Tubes are getting rough. They’ll need some fixup soon or they might fall apart.” He looked at Mary again. “Anything I can do?”
Alex shook his head. “She’s fine.” Without elaborating he walked to the sofa. Mary caught his eye as he sat down. “You are my queen, you know,” he said softly.
Mary smiled slightly and pointed to the screen at the far side of the room. “If that’s our radar plot, it looks like there’s something approaching
Goddard
.”
An alarm sounded a split second later and the crewmen still waiting in line ran to their stations. As they left Alex heard a voice say, “Collision.”
“Dingers, Mary, where did that come from? It looks big.” Alex squinted at the display, trying to make some sense of it.
The control room was in chaos. With people moving around him, the Commander had to stand to see the screen. “Will someone please get me a visual?” Johnny bellowed. “Can we all just settle down?”
Despite the Commander’s insistence it took a while for order to be restored. All the while, people were leaving and entering though all exits. Among the late arrivals was Captain Wysor, who entered the room running and didn’t stop until he reached his chair. “Are we under attack?” he asked the Commander. Johnny looked at him blankly and shrugged.
“Dingers,” Alex said to Mary. “Why would they attack us?”
Mary leaned back in the sofa and closed her eyes. Her hand was at her temple. “I don’t believe they would.”
The screen on the far side of the control room now displayed an image. At first it looked like an empty star field, but winking stars and glints of reflecting pink light revealed a large number of objects.
“Saucers, no doubt,” guessed Alex. “Maybe our mission isn’t quite finished after all.” He knew the ship was a long way from launch readiness, and it didn’t surprise him when Johnny slumped into his seat in apparent despair. “Can we move this ship?” the Commander asked in a voice loud enough for all to hear. “We might have to move it now!”
2
Alex and Mary stayed in the control room, but there was nothing they could do but watch as Johnny and the crew wrestled with the newest wrinkle in the mission profile. The armada of saucers passed
Goddard
without pausing, except for one which stopped near the outer doors of the shuttle bay. The rest continued into the cold dark night and ultimately vanished from the radar.
Only minutes before, the control room had been a din of shuffling feet and shouted orders. Now, except for the soft whir of machines, it was completely silent as everyone watched the viewscreen. On it was a lone saucer, frozen in position and barely visible against the blackness of space.
The Commander faced Captain Wysor. “What now, Captain?” he asked. “Any suggestions?”
John Wysor had been standing since the moment the alien ships had appeared. “It’s yer call, c’mmander,” he responded.
“Am I correct that we’re seeing the image from the shuttle bay’s outer cameras?”
Ned Binder answered him. “That’s correct, sir.”
Commander Baltadonis grinned slightly. “As if it wants in.”
Mary, still seated next to Alex on the lounge sofa, lifted her head and opened her eyes. Alex had the notion that she’d fallen asleep. “You’re awake,” he said.
Mary frowned. “You thought I’d sleep through all that?”
Alex sighed. “How do you feel?”
She looked at the screen and shrugged. “Pregnant, I guess.”
Alex smiled sympathetically and pointed to the screen. “What do you think?”
“Lalandians are at our door,” she replied. “What should I think?”
“I noticed your hand to your temple. Were you receiving anything?”
“Other than waves of nausea, no.”
“Do you want to go home?”
Mary glanced at Alex almost angrily. “And miss this? Not on your life.”
He glanced around for any eavesdroppers, but the crew was too far away and much too absorbed in their work to overhear. Nevertheless, he whispered, “Maybe it’s time a doctor saw you.”
“You know that’s impossible, Alex. Besides, I’m getting the drugs I need from the autoPharm.”
The alien saucer still sat motionless outside the doors of the shuttle bay. Except for the motion of the background stars it looked painted on the viewscreen. Johnny, Ned, and Captain Wysor were standing together in conference. Finally the Commander turned to the group. “Everyone, our situation seems to have changed. I’m delaying our countdown. You all may as well relax.” He turned from the group and walked toward the lounge. “I need some coffee.”
Alex got up and met Johnny at the refreshment panel. The Commander glanced at him. “What do you think, Alex?”
“Mary thinks they want to meet us.”
“She does?” Johnny glanced past Alex at Mary, still seated on the sofa. “Is she okay? She’s looking a bit pale.”
“Just tired, I guess.”
Johnny nodded. “Yes. It’s been a long day, especially with Connie’s …”
Alex nodded, then looked again at his wife. “What Mary actually said was, ‘the Lalandians are at our door’.”
“Indeed. Well, that’s fairly obvious. I was hoping for more than that, I guess.”
Alex shrugged. “That’s all we’ve got, I guess.”
Johnny looked back at display. “Should we just open the bay and let them in?”
“Why not?”
“Contamination, for one thing.” Johnny scratched his chin. “But I’m inclined to agree with you.”
Mary got up and joined them. She moved slowly but seemed strong enough. “Are you going to let them in, Johnny?” she asked.
“I’m strongly considering it, Mary,” said the Commander, stepping over to the coffee machine. “We can detect any contamination in the shuttle bay, and we can hold them there if there’s a problem.”
Alex clearly remembered the alien sphere that had not only penetrated the
Goddard’s
hull but also managed to cut through several decks and embed itself in the interior of the cylinder. He touched Johnny on the shoulder. “You know as well as I do that if they wanted to get in they could have done it. It really looks like they’re waiting to be admitted.”
Johnny nodded. “My thoughts exactly.”
Mary smiled. “Letting them would be is a nice gesture, don’t you think?”
“I wonder how they feel about this,” Alex said, pointing a thumb at the crew, most of whom were watching their
Commander talking to Alex and Mary.
“It’s my decision,” Johnny said with conviction. “I’m through with this democracy thing. Voting is a waste of time.”
Mary raised an eyebrow. “Democracy is irrelevant. You don’t have to take a vote every time you do something, you know.”
Holding a fresh cup of faux-coffee, Johnny faced her. “You’re right, as usual. I guess I’m just tired of thinking for everybody else.”
The Commander left the lounge and talked briefly to the Captain. He returned to his station and looked at Ned. “Seal off the shuttle bay, then open the outer doors.”
Alex expected objections, but none came, and the crew set to work implementing the order. A minute later, the wall screen showed the outer doors to the shuttle bay slowly opening.
3
When the doors had opened, everyone expected the saucer to enter the ship, but the alien craft remained where it was, about ten meters off the shuttle bay. The camera stayed fixed on the craft as everyone in the control room watched in silence.
Minutes passed. Then a shaft of blue light flashed briefly at the bottom of the alien disk and something appeared. In the darkness it was difficult to make out what had occurred, but Mary’s keen eyes recognized it. “Another sphere,” she whispered.
Almost as soon as it appeared, the black globe began moving toward the open bay, passing smoothly through the doors.
The control room screen switched the view to one from a camera inside the bay.
Ned asked the Commander if they should close the doors, and Johnny shook his head. “I don’t want it to feel trapped.
Let’s see what it does.”
The sphere didn’t stop moving as it passed through the bay. “Contamination?” asked the Commander. “Anyone?”
“Clean as far as we can tell, sir,” answered someone.
Johnny gave a half-hearted smile and nodded as he watched the sphere continue its transit of the shuttle bay. It moved slowly but resolutely until it reached the hatchway door that led to the interior of the ship. There it stopped as if waiting to be admitted.
“Seal the outer doors,” ordered the Commander. “Pressurize the bay.”
Moments later the outer doors slid closed. Someone said, “Pressurizing, sir.”
Johnny nodded again. “I want to treat this thing like a visitor,” he said. “Let it in immediately.”
“But sir ...” began Ned.
Johnny held up his hand. “I know, I know. We have to play this out, Ned. Open the doors, please.”
Alex looked at Mary with a raised eyebrow. “What do you think, Mary?”
“Better than having it punch another hole in our hull.”
Alex shook his head. “I hope.”
The entire staff was standing, watching the screen as the inner door swung open. The viewscreen image switched again to a camera mounted above the entrance to the tubeway, showing the sphere moving slowly forward.