The Dark Zone Page 2

  “What do you mean?” Channy said.

  “It’s not healthy to fall into a rut,” Lita said. “This is just my opinion, of course, but we could all use a shake-up in our routines. Tomorrow is the ten-month anniversary of our launch, and besides a few dramatic moments, and the switching of job assignments, we have pretty much all fallen into the same patterns, day in and day out.” She looked at Channy. “It’s no different than what you preach to us every week in the gym, about alternating our workouts. After a while your body adapts, right? It’s not as effective.”

  Channy nodded. “Right. But you’re talking mentally?”

  “I’m talking about all of it: physically, mentally, emotionally.” She indicated the food dispenser line. “A new food choice is a little thing, but look at the reaction. It’s a welcome change; not all change is embraced, but it’s almost always good for people.”

  Triana smiled. “Any suggestions, Doctor?”

  Channy piped in before Lita could answer. “Oh! I know! What if we had something like, I don’t know, um … okay, how about Shake It Up Day, or something like that? You know, everyone has to do everything differently for one day.”

  Lita’s laugh was gentle and pleasant. “I know that you love to plan special events, Channy, but I wasn’t thinking about just one day. I’m talking about a lifestyle adjustment.”

  “I know, but at least it would bring it to everyone’s attention.”

  Triana shrugged. “I’m probably the biggest creature of habit on this ship. I’m pretty sure it would do me some good to mix things up a bit. I don’t know if we need a special day dedicated to it, but it’s something that we should discuss in a Council meeting.”

  Channy grinned. “Just don’t forget about tonight.”

  Her two companions went through the motions of adjusting the items on their trays, neither making eye contact. Finally, Lita said, “Tonight?”

  “Oh, stop pretending you don’t know,” Channy said with a huff. “The Dating Game? This evening? Auditorium? Big fun? Remember?”

  Lita and Triana looked at her, then at each other. Triana kept quiet, leaving it up to Lita to respond again. “I’m pretty busy with reports this week.”

  Channy crossed her arms. “It’s one hour out of your life, Lita.” She shook her head at both girls. “I swear, you two are the biggest wet noodles I’ve ever met. Would it hurt that much to put yourselves out there?”

  Triana at last broke her silence. “I know you really want us to participate, Channy, but maybe next time.” She offered a wry smile; Channy returned a pout.

  “Fine. You could at least stop by and be part of the audience. I promise I won’t bring you up on stage. But I could use some more bodies in the crowd.”

  “I’ll pop in for a few minutes,” Lita said.

  “I’ll do my best,” was all that Triana offered.

  For the next ten minutes the conversation drifted through a variety of topics, mostly with Channy’s enthusiastic comments, Lita’s thoughtful responses, and an occasional observation from Triana, who often chose to listen and quietly consider. During this time the room began to thin out, as more and more crew members cleaned up their tables and set out on their daily duties.

  Galahad’s crew worked in six-week shifts within the various departments on the ship, before rotating into a different assignment. It was understood that this would allow each person to become proficient in many areas. Along with the advanced schooling that accompanied their work, the idea was for Galahad to have a seasoned, well-educated crew when it arrived at the Eos star system, their eventual destination.

  At any given time a group of about sixty people were on a break from work, but even then their education continued. Many found that the break only led to boredom, and when their next assignment arrived they gladly returned to the rotation.

  Lita stood, stretched, and picked up her tray. “Back to work for me. Anything exciting for you guys today?”

  “I’m going to ask Bon if we can clear a path around the outer perimeter of Dome 2,” Channy said. “A few people in the afternoon workout group suggested that it might be more fun to run up there. It would be more like running outside. I think they’re very tired of the treadmills.”

  Lita laughed. “Good luck. If I hear the walls shaking today I’ll know that you asked Bon.”

  “I know he’s very protective about his crops,” Triana added, “but that’s actually a pretty good suggestion. Let me know if you want me to go with you.”

  “What about you?” Lita said. “What’s your day like?”

  Triana stood and pushed back her chair. “This will be an interesting day in the Control Room. We are officially shooting out of the Kuiper Belt now, and I’ve heard some rumblings about what might be on the other side.”

  Channy sat still, looking up at the Council Leader. “And what do you think is out there?”

  “A whole lot of nothing.”

  “Just empty space?”

  “Just empty space,” Triana said. She waved good-bye to Channy and walked toward the door with Lita.

  As they exited into the curved hallway and prepared to go their separate ways, Lita looked into Triana’s eyes. “Do you really believe there’s nothing outside the Belt?”

  Triana sensed the anxiety in her friend. “Honestly, Lita, I have no idea anymore. It’s getting to the point where nothing would surprise me.”

  “Bon and Alexa seem a little worried about it.”

  Triana sighed. “I know. But what can we do?”

  Lita didn’t answer at first. Then, with a smile, she said, “We’re tough. We can handle anything, right?” She turned and walked toward the lift.

  Triana bit her lip. For two months she had wondered what they would be facing when they shot out of the minefield of debris that circled the solar system. Soon they would find out.

  2

  His name was Taresh, and he held the attention of about twenty-five Galahad crew members who hunched over their workpads. This particular session of School focused on history; in particular, the rise and eventual end of British colonization. With their stylus pens hastily scribbling notes, the students’ eyes darted back and forth between their workpads and the young man from India who spoke onstage in the Learning Center.

  From the beginning, the man who had organized the Galahad mission insisted that the crew members participate in their own education. Dr. Wallace Zimmer had provided the necessary information in the ship’s computers to instruct the young pupils in all areas, a measure that ensured that Eos would be settled by a highly educated population. Yet, rather than have them sit through lecture after lecture by Roc, Dr. Zimmer put a heavy emphasis on students carrying much of the load.

  Regardless of the subject matter, Galahad’s crew members were expected to take their turn onstage, sharing specific information that they had researched for that particular lesson. It not only encouraged each student to expand his or her individual acquirement skills, it developed a sense of teamwork. Whether they were outgoing or shy, it didn’t matter; at various points everyone would take his turn in front of the group.

  Taresh had volunteered to share the story of India’s past. A native of Patna, a city on the banks of the Ganges River, he was a good choice to teach his fellow travelers about the region. Easygoing and well liked, he exuded pride about his home country that was evident to everyone in the room. With the help of graphics that Roc flashed on the large screen behind the stage, Taresh quickly recounted the story of India’s vast wealth of cotton, silk, spices, and tea, and how Britain established outposts that soon came to dominate the country. The British East India Company evolved into territorial rule, complete with a government infrastructure, armies, and more. Taresh concluded his comments by addressing the rise of self-government, and official independence in 1947.

  Seated in one of the chairs, and entirely absorbed in the information, was Gap Lee. The Head of Engineering on Galahad and a Council member, he enjoyed School, especially these times of
student-led discussion. In particular, Gap admired the way Taresh held himself, and the graceful manner in which he related the story of his country’s heritage.

  Gap felt a similar pride for his home country of China. He knew that for ages, the people of his country had clashed with the people of India, often over disputed territory between the two great nations. Now, with Earth billions of miles behind him—and growing more distant every second—it was difficult for Gap to fathom those differences, and how they could go unresolved for so long. Taresh was a friend, and Gap was saddened that countless generations of their people had chosen a warlike path over peace and cooperation.

  Too often it had been the same story for the people of Earth; here, however, in the cocoon known as Galahad, such cultural and territorial disputes seemed old and irrelevant.

  Taresh finished his report, and a smattering of applause followed him to his seat next to Gap. A five-minute break would follow before the class shifted its attention to mathematics.

  “Well done,” Gap said, clapping Taresh on the shoulder. “I’ve heard the name Gandhi so many times, but I never really knew what he was all about.”

  “I felt the same way when we studied Greek history last week,” Taresh said, saving the data on his workpad. “Familiar names, but I couldn’t have told you anything about them.”

  A boy in front of them turned around. “I still don’t understand why we have to learn any of this anyway.”

  Gap looked into the eyes of Micah, who hailed from New York. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we’ve left all of this behind us. Why bother to drag it to Eos? What good will it do when we start over on a new world? I don’t get it.”

  Gap glanced at Taresh, who jumped in to answer.

  “It’s important to learn as many lessons from the past as possible.”

  “I don’t see how,” Micah said. “Shouldn’t we spend more time on math and science, and forget about all of the nonsense that our ancestors caused? If you ask me, it’s better to ignore their mistakes.”

  Gap shook his head. “I can’t agree with that. The reason we study the mistakes from the past is so that we’ll recognize what works and what doesn’t. Besides, it’s not all about mistakes. There were some great people who did some amazing things; just reading about their wisdom inspires me sometimes.”

  “And remember this,” Taresh added. “The path that we’ve all taken is a part of who we are. How can you appreciate what you have if you have nothing to compare it to?”

  Micah looked thoughtful. “Yeah, that’s true. I never looked at it that way before.”

  Taresh chuckled. “I know that sometimes it just seems like a bunch of useless facts that we’ll never really need. But that’s because we forget to look underneath. The story of our past is a great tool for creating a better future. It’s not just facts and figures; it’s our foundation. It’s the same with traditions.”

  With a nod, and a new look of respect on his face, Micah turned back around. Gap looked at Taresh. “So what’s new in your world?”

  “I’m about to start a turn in Sick House in two weeks. I’m glad, too, because medicine is one of my interests.”

  “That’s cool. Lita’s a good teacher, too,” Gap said. “What have you been doing for fun?”

  “Would you believe board games?” Taresh said with a smile. “Seven or eight of us have gotten hooked. We meet in the Rec Room twice a week after dinner, and it’s a blast. You should join us sometime.”

  “Might be a good change from playing Masego with Roc,” Gap said. “I’ve still never beaten him, and I think lately he’s been letting me get closer, just to keep my hopes up.”

  While he was talking, Gap glanced around the room. People were sitting in groups, chatting, and others were walking in and out of the door to the hallway, preparing for the second half of the class. He started to say something else about Roc, when suddenly he caught sight of a familiar face in the back row.

  It was Hannah Ross. She kept her head down, and appeared to be sketching something. The fact that she was in the back of the room probably indicated that she preferred not to be seen by Gap. He understood.

  Two months earlier he had ended a relationship with Hannah, and they had not spoken since. He saw her occasionally, but it was rare. And in those awkward moments she made sure to avoid contact or conversation.

  The breakup had come during a stressful, disturbing point in Gap’s experience on Galahad. In the weeks that followed he had questioned his own decision, often tempted to stop by and visit the quiet girl from Alaska. The closest he had come was an email, a long, detailed letter explaining his motives. In it he admitted that he missed her, and wondered if she would have any interest in meeting for dinner.

  Hannah had not responded.

  Now, at the back of the Learning Center, she continued to keep her gaze on her workpad. She had to know that Gap was in the room.

  “Well?”

  Gap realized with a start that Taresh had been speaking to him. “I’m sorry, I was drifting,” he said.

  Taresh turned to look in the direction that Gap had been staring, then looked back at his friend. A knowing expression was on his face. “I said we’re going to be meeting up in the Rec Room again tonight, if you’d like to come by.”

  “Uh, sure, I’ll try to make it if I can,” Gap said, shifting back in his chair to face forward. “Anybody I know in your group?”

  “Channy started playing a couple of weeks ago,” Taresh said.

  “Really? Channy?” Gap was surprised that the chattiest member of the crew had not said anything about it during a Council meeting.

  “Yeah. She, um…” Taresh appeared to search for words. “She … has been very friendly lately.”

  Gap laughed. “What are you talking about? Channy is always friendly. You know that.”

  Taresh raised his eyebrows. “No, I mean she’s been very friendly.”

  It finally sank in. Gap’s mouth dropped open. “Ohhhh. Interesting.”

  “Don’t say anything to anyone,” Taresh said, dropping his gaze to the floor. “I’m not trying to embarrass her. I just don’t know … how to handle it.”

  “Do you like her? I mean … she’s very cute.” Gap suddenly felt uncomfortable about the conversation. In a strange way, he almost felt as if he was talking about his sister.

  Taresh shrugged. “Yeah, she’s cool. I don’t know.”

  A soft tone sounded in the room, announcing the end of the break. Both boys seemed relieved.

  * * *

  The door of the lift slid open, and Triana was immediately aware of a heaviness that blanketed the Control Room. She wondered for a moment if something had gone wrong, until she glanced to the far corner and recognized the figure who sat before a keyboard, his back to the room. He likely had not said a word, nor done anything to intentionally produce the feeling that swam about the room, yet Bon’s mere presence often cast a dense shadow. The word “brooding” had been used by more than one crew member when describing the tall Swede; the result was that he usually worked without interruption or small talk.

  Triana crossed to the workstation and looked over Bon’s shoulder at the vidscreen before him. A jumble of code played out, countless strings that meant nothing to her, and, strangely enough, probably meant as little to Bon. He was a vessel, a container of information, a messenger of sorts. Yet the information he carried had saved the lives of everyone aboard Galahad.

  Without knowing exactly how it worked, Bon was able to sync telepathically with the alien force they called the Cassini. Ageless and intellectually advanced beyond human comprehension, this powerful force occupied Titan, the methane-wrapped moon of Saturn. During the brief encounter as Galahad whipped past, Bon discovered that his mind was being used as a conduit to the alien entity. He was able to sink into a painful, frightening connection with the Cassini using a device known as the translator, whereupon data was transferred in a sort of mental uplink. The crew of Galahad had used that da
ta to navigate its way out of the deadly Kuiper Belt, avoiding collision with the trillions of pieces of space debris that circled the edge of the solar system.

  Each stage of the navigation, however, had required an individual uplink. Triana had grown concerned that Bon was somehow becoming addicted to the powerful connection. She knew that his link to the Cassini had altered him in some way, something that neither she nor he could describe. Even though his connections were agonizing, it seemed he was too eager to repeat the experience. Wary, and more than a little distrustful of the effects he was suffering, Triana chose to hold onto the translator herself, and only allow Bon to use it in her presence.

  He had made another connection the previous evening, kneeling among the dirt and plants in Dome 2, where he felt the most at ease. Triana had watched the spasms take over, watched Bon’s head snap back, his eyes turn a terrifying shade of orange, and a mash of voices pour forth from his mouth. It meant that the Cassini had taken hold of him.

  Although it lasted barely a minute, Triana always found herself shaking by the time it ended, often clutching herself with both arms, anxious for it to end, unable to relax until Bon’s normal shade of ice-blue seeped back into his eyes.

  This would likely be the final set of instructions for navigating out of the belt. Already the number of rock chunks and ice balls had plummeted; what lay before them, other than a second ring called the Oort Cloud, was cold, empty space.

  Truly empty, they hoped.

  Triana placed her hand on the back of Bon’s chair. He responded by looking up at her, his usual blank expression revealing nothing.

  “Well?” she said. “Finished?”

  “Yeah,” Bon said, punching one final key with a flourish. “Not much of a change, really. I think we’re basically out.”

  The words sent a shiver through her. The Kuiper Belt had been a two-month game of dodgeball, with destruction always a possibility. And yet, at the same time, it had also acted as a security blanket, preventing anything from outside the solar system from reaching them. Galahad had now rocketed into the great unknown.