The Dark Zone Read online

  For the third time, silence blanketed the room. Triana waited for the stalemate to end, then accepted defeat.

  “Okay. Can you think of anything we might do to protect ourselves?”

  The computer seemed to consider the question for a minute. “Well, I’m sure you don’t want to hear this, but the best thing to do is wait until we know more about these things. Then there might be an obvious answer. You might not need your average, everyday shoot-’em-up gun.”

  Triana bit her lip. She didn’t like the idea of playing defensively, but couldn’t see another option at the moment.

  In eighty-five minutes, she realized, they might run out of options entirely.

  5

  The girl on the stage was quite obviously nervous, sitting on her hands, swinging her feet back and forth under the chair. Her attention swept between her friends sitting in the auditorium and the two boys sitting across from her. Both boys were going to immense pains to seem casual and comfortable, sitting back in their chairs, even leaning back on two legs from time to time; but nervous tics and laughter betrayed this facade.

  Channy stood in the center of the stage and addressed the modest crowd. “This has flown by pretty fast, but now you all know how it works, so I’m sure we’ll have more contestants next time. As you can see, nobody got embarrassed up here, and nobody had a massive heart attack and fell out of their chair.”

  She waited for the polite laughter to subside before saying, “So, thanks to a few brave souls who came forward as volunteers, we all know how easy this is. Which brings us to our final contestant this evening.” She turned to the nervous girl seated next to her. “Antoinette is sixteen, was born and raised in England…”

  Channy paused and addressed the crowd, exaggerating her British accent: “Of course, all of the coolest people on Galahad hail from the U.K., right?” This brought even more laughter, and a few hoots from the crowd. In the third row, Lita turned to whisper to Alexa.

  “She’s a natural at this, you know?”

  “I’m glad she’s having fun,” Alexa whispered back. “She’s put a lot into the whole thing.”

  Lita glanced around before responding. “For all of her worrying, it’s not a bad turnout. Probably fifty people, wouldn’t you say?”

  Alexa nodded, and both girls turned their attention back to the stage.

  “Antoinette is currently assigned to the Farms,” Channy said. “Although she notes, ‘I’m anxious to rotate out in a few weeks, because I dislike dirty hands and fingernails.’” This brought a few more chuckles from the crowd, spurred on by Channy’s dramatic gestures and facial expressions. “I don’t know, Antoinette, I’m sure Bon would give you a day off if you broke a nail.”

  Lita and Alexa joined in the laughter. Onstage, Antoinette turned a shade of red and kicked her feet a little more quickly.

  “All right, let’s say hello to the two very cool gentlemen to my left,” Channy said. “Andrei is seventeen, comes to us from Moscow, and apparently does not believe in haircuts. He is presently on his six-week break, lucky guy, and enjoys working out and solving extreme math problems.” She smiled at him. “Brains and brawn; a Mr. Galahad if I ever saw one.”

  She then focused on the other boy. “Next to Andrei we have Karl, a native of Düsseldorf. He is currently assigned to the kitchen crew, and enjoys Airboarding and chess. Oh, and today, believe it or not, is Karl’s sixteenth birthday.” There was a smattering of applause and whistles at the mention of this. “Sorry, my friend,” Channy said, “but you will not automatically get the hand of Antoinette as a gift; you must earn it.

  “Antoinette has chosen the simple question option. This means that she is eliminating a lot of the usual back-and-forth silliness, and is instead trusting her instincts.” Channy held aloft a small index card. “She has already answered this random question, and her answer is stored on the workpad. We will have each of the gentlemen answer the same question, and then post all three on the giant vidscreen behind us. The game is simple: the young man with the answer most similar to Antoinette’s will be the winner, and away they will go to a private romantic dinner, where they will get to know each other better and see if those instincts were correct.”

  Channy took a step toward the front of the stage and lowered her voice. “Of course, if neither of the gentlemen is even close to Antoinette’s answer, then she gets to select one of them using a completely different form of instinct, if you know what I mean.”

  This was greeted with more hoots from the crowd, and Antoinette again went red. Andrei and Karl grinned and continued their relaxed act.

  “Okay, gentlemen,” Channy said with a flourish, “workpads ready. In twenty-five words or less, please answer this question: What will we find on Eos that will make it the most romantic place in the galaxy? You have two minutes. Begin.”

  At this cue, a crew member enabled the recorded music that Channy had selected for the Dating Game, and the soft, melodic tones filled the auditorium. The crowd began to talk within their small groups, supplying their own answers to the question, while Andrei and Karl took a moment to think before hunching over the workpads on their laps. Lita and Alexa looked at each other and giggled.

  “How much you wanna bet they both say multiple moons, or something like that?” Alexa said.

  “Hey, that was the first thing that popped into my head,” Lita said with mock indignation. “You have a better answer?”

  “No,” Alexa admitted. “I only said that because it was the first thing I came up with, too.” She looked up at the stage. “I think the object is to try to get into Antoinette’s head and guess what she would say.”

  “But that’s not right,” Lita said. “If it’s a game of matching instincts, then the guys should go with their own gut. Otherwise the date is already based on a lie.”

  “I know that, and you know that,” Alexa said. “But look at those two guys. Watch the way they keep glancing at each other. I don’t think they really care about Antoinette’s answer; they just want to win.”

  Lita smiled. “I have to give Channy a lot of credit. This game is not only fun for the contestants, it’s fun for us, too. Suddenly we’re all analysts and relationship experts.”

  The music came to an end, and Channy moved back to center stage.

  “All right,” she said, “it’s time to compare answers and see which lucky guy has earned a date with the lovely Antoinette.” She turned and faced the giant vidscreen at the back of the stage. “The question was: What will we find on Eos that will make it the most romantic place in the galaxy? Let’s have Andrei’s answer first, please.”

  There was an electronic version of a drumroll before the screen flickered and the connection was made with Andrei’s workpad. The crowd laughed as Channy read his response.

  “Northern lights like Earth’s aurora borealis, except these lights would dance in sync with the songs of the birds.”

  Channy put a hand on one hip and gave Andrei a critical look. “My friend, birds don’t sing at night.”

  “They might on Eos,” Andrei said with a grin. The crowd clapped its approval of his defense, and he egged them on by giving the “come on” sign with his hands.

  “Riiiggghhhttt,” Channy said. “Okay, you get points for creativity, but remember, the idea is to come close to the lady’s answer. Before we put her answer on the screen, let’s see what Karl had to say.”

  She turned again to the screen and narrated. “Perpetual rainbows.”

  Oohs and aahs rumbled from the crowd. “Wow,” Alexa said to Lita. “They really like his answer.”

  “Are you kidding?” Lita whispered back. “I love his answer!”

  Alexa raised her eyebrows. “Well, if Antoinette doesn’t get him, you should ask him out.”

  “I might,” Lita said with a laugh.

  Channy turned back to the audience. “Two excellent answers, wouldn’t you say? Let’s see if either of them comes close to Antoinette’s choice. Are you ready?”

&n
bsp; The crowd applauded and whistled. “Okay,” Channy said, and faced the nervous girl on the stage. “Antoinette, I tried to read your face when each answer popped up on the screen. As you know, I’m pretty well tuned in to people’s emotions.” The crowd snickered, and she shot them a warning look that brought laughter. “Oh, it’s true, we all know it.” She looked back at Antoinette. “I distinctly saw a reaction, and if I’m right, it means that a certain young man from Germany will be dining with you this week.”

  She pointed to the vidscreen. “What will we find on Eos that will make it the most romantic place in the galaxy? May we please see the lady’s answer?”

  The vidscreen flickered again, went black, and then lit up with Antoinette’s answer. The crowd cheered as Channy read it. “Rainbows every evening! Wow! An exact match! Karl, you’re incredible!”

  The crowd jumped to their feet, and the applause grew louder. On the stage, Karl stood up, walked over to Antoinette, and took her by the hand. Her face turned a deeper red, and she laughed nervously. Across the stage, even Andrei clapped and grinned.

  “Oh well, the one that got away,” Lita said with a sigh.

  “There’s always the aurora borealis guy,” Alexa said. “That’s romantic, too, you know.”

  Channy put her hand on Antoinette’s shoulder and addressed the crowd. “Can I read people, or what?” She thanked everyone for coming, and announced that a second Dating Game would be forthcoming. There was more applause, and as the music swelled again, the audience turned for the doors.

  Two minutes later, Channy was standing in the aisle with Lita and Alexa, beaming.

  “See?” Lita said. “A major hit. You were worried for nothing.”

  “Could’ve been a few more people in the seats,” Channy said.

  “That won’t be a problem next time,” Alexa said. “Did you see the way people were talking when they left? You put on such a great show, it will be packed next month.”

  “Thank you,” Channy said. She batted her eyes. “Anything I can do to promote love. Hopefully this inspired people to stop being so shy all the time.”

  “Hmm,” Lita said. “Did it inspire you?”

  “Maybe,” Channy said, lifting her chin. “Maybe it did.”

  * * *

  On one hand, Triana felt that it was important to hurry back to the Control Room. Another part of her brain, however, suggested that walking—and thinking—could be more beneficial. Away from people, away from the situation, she hoped to at least find clarity, if not answers.

  The clock was ticking. In a little over an hour Galahad would plunge into a swarm of darting objects that littered the path ahead. It would be their second alien encounter since leaving Earth.

  The first had almost destroyed them.

  The lift doors opened onto the lower level of the ship. A left turn would take Triana toward the gym and the Airboarding track. Instead she quickly moved to the right, into the dim corridors that snaked through the Storage Sections. She was confident that she would have this portion of the ship to herself.

  She paused momentarily by the large window that looked out upon the dazzling panoramic star field of the Milky Way before putting her head down and moving on.

  Her thoughts skipped through a checklist of possibilities regarding their impending rendezvous with the vultures. There might be contact, a collision of sorts, and the consequences of this baffled Triana. The vultures might attack, but what form would that take? There was always the possibility that the vultures might scatter and allow Galahad to pass unmolested, but the Council Leader didn’t think this likely.

  She rounded a turn and slowed her pace, focusing to match her breathing to her steps, a technique that her dad had recommended to help her get centered during times of stress. In a flash her thoughts turned to the man who had meant so much to her.

  Her memories stirred, then settled on a sun-filled afternoon, soon after her thirteenth birthday. Sitting in the passenger seat of their car, she had twisted the hair tie around her fingers, stretching it almost to the point of breaking. Her dad maneuvered the car gently along the road that wound into the foothills of the Rocky Mountains just outside of Denver. He glanced at his daughter’s hands, watching her stress manifest itself in the bending and stretching of the cloth tie, a faint smile on his lips.

  “Still worried?” he said, shifting the car into a lower gear as they began to climb a steep hill.

  “No,” she said. Then, after a pause: “Yes.”

  “Wanna talk about it some more?”

  Triana watched the replay of her younger self, anguishing over a painful moment that time had somehow sanded away. She did remember, however, what her grumpy reply had been: “Will it change anything?”

  Her dad waited before answering, using the time to glance out at the trees racing past, the afternoon sunlight dappling them as it cut through a V in the mountains. Triana always treasured their drives together, most of which were filled with warmth and laughter; many times, however, the front seat became a sanctuary, their private refuge from a confusing world, a place where they could dissect the events of the day, or whatever might be troubling the dark-haired teen.

  “Your question says it all,” her dad said. “Your energy is concentrated on trying to change something that is out of your control.” He threw a quick glance at his daughter before looking back at the road. “There are a lot of things in our lives that we can control, and a lot that we can’t. When you get wrapped up in trying to change something that is beyond your power to change, it causes frustration and despair.”

  Triana continued to work the hair tie, but had now begun to bite her lip. She let her father’s words sink in before replying. “So what do I do?”

  He took his right hand off the wheel and gently placed it over both of hers. “You stop worrying about things you can’t change, and divert your energy to the things you can. One of the most powerful days of your life will be when you learn to tell the difference.”

  His touch had its usual calming effect. After momentarily tensing, she felt her hands relax. Her breathing slowed, and she leaned her head back against the deep cushion of the seat. She turned to look out the passenger window, taking in the rush of colors, the sharp outline of the craggy hills rising up to pierce the sky, and for a moment a feeling of gratitude replaced the stress that had eaten away at her.

  Without her realizing it, the hair tie slipped from her fingers.

  Now, almost four years later, Triana paused in the dim corridor of Galahad’s lowest level and leaned her back against a wall. The time had come to take inventory of what exactly was in her control, and what wasn’t.

  The ship would soon reach the contact point with the alien forms they referred to as the vultures; that was inevitable, and no amount of worrying would change that. Her reaction would have to wait until the moment their paths intersected.

  Bon’s attitude had shifted somewhat since forming a tenuous connection with the Cassini, yet he was often still difficult to communicate with. Again, her reaction was the only thing within her control.

  The crew would be apprehensive when they found out about the vultures. That, however, was somewhat within her control because it was one of the responsibilities of leadership: managing the crew.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by joyous shouts echoing through the halls, and she knew it likely was a passel of Airboarders celebrating another successful tour of the track and now on their way to the upper levels of the ship. She tapped her heel against the wall and let her mind sift through the remaining obligations of her day, all of which could wait until after the encounter with the vultures.

  As she turned to make her way back toward the lift, she could feel her father’s warm hand covering hers, and his calm voice: “Learn to tell the difference.”

  6

  Time alone on Galahad was a precious commodity, and getting away from 250 crew members could be a challenge. With the crew quarters and most of the primary work and meeting facilities c
oncentrated within the middle decks, it was no surprise that individuals would gravitate to the extreme upper and lower levels to seek escape. Many would sneak away to the lonely corridors near the Storage Sections and Spider bay in the bowels of the ship. With the dim lighting and narrow passageways—not to mention its reputation as the hideout of a maniacal stowaway early in their mission—the area was often described as spooky, and attracted only the hardiest souls.

  This left the Domes as the primary getaway location. Prior to launch, noted psychologist Dr. Angela Armistead had briefed the mission’s planners that Galahad’s young explorers would be naturally drawn to all of the domes’ sensory delights, including starlight, gentle breezes—even manufactured ones—and the many smells that would remind them of open fields on Earth. Dr. Zimmer had consequently informed Bon Hartsfield to expect dozens of crew members to tromp through the farms of Galahad on a daily basis.

  Bon understood as well as anyone, given his own upbringing, and grunted agreement.

  Now, as dusk descended upon the ship, he knifed along a path that cut between one section of wheat and another of corn. As the keeper of this domain, he was intimately aware of the least-traveled pathways, and rarely had difficulty finding solitude. He could usually count on this particular route to be quiet, and had shared his secret with only one person.

  He pushed aside the arm of a cornstalk that reached across the path, and there she was, sitting cross-legged on the soil in a small clearing. Beside her lay a small, portable lantern that emitted a soft glow, along with two personal water bottles, one of which she held up to him as he came to a stop.

  “Thirsty?” Alexa said. Bon accepted the water and stood beside her.

  She looked up through the mesh of clear panels that separated Galahad’s food supplies from the harsh vacuum of space. “This is my favorite time of day. I love it when the lights go down and the stars turn on.”

  “Turn on?” Bon said.