Council meetings were usually scheduled once per week, but this was a special session. Galahad was on schedule to enter the space around Saturn that evening, and the rendezvous with the pod was a mere twenty-eight hours away. Though not a fan of meetings, Triana recognized that preparation was key to the success of this assignment. She sat at the head of the table in the Conference Room, waiting for the usual chitchat to die down before getting started.
The stark setting of the room was supposed to encourage productivity and eliminate distractions. Light gray paint, no pictures, comfortable chairs, a conference table, computer screens, and a water dispenser. That was it. But the ship’s designers had failed to take into account the never-ending chatter whenever Channy was involved. Right now she was holding court with Lita and Gap, both of who could barely get a word in. Bon sat quietly at the far end of the table, a look of irritation on his face. Triana glanced at him once, but there was no eye contact. She cleared her throat.
“Let’s get started, okay?” she said. Channy leaned over and, with a smile, whispered something final to Lita, who smirked and pushed Channy back into her own chair.
“Tomorrow is a big day for us,” Triana began. “Essentially it’s our first contact with people since we left Earth. Uh, well,” she added, “if you don’t count the uninvited guest who snuck on board.” The mood around the table quickly became serious.
“In fact, this will be our first, and last, contact before leaving the solar system and heading out toward Eos. So I wanted to get us caught up on what’s been going on around Saturn and, in particular, around Titan.” Triana bit her lip and pulled up a graphic on her computer screen, then sent the image to the other screens around the table. It showed a representation of Saturn’s moon system, with the dull orange ball called Titan at center stage.
“Some of this you know; some of it might be news to you. Almost all of it is rather . . . mysterious. I’m not trying to be dramatic, but let’s face it, some odd things have been going on around this moon.”
Lita spoke up. “You seem nervous about this rendezvous, Tree.”
The Council Leader shrugged. “I guess I am, kinda. I mean, we didn’t train for anything like this, and most of it came up just as we were leaving Earth. So you gotta wonder what’s going on.” She pointed to her screen. “Here’s what we know. The research station, SAT33, has been in operation for eight years, orbiting Titan. The moon is Saturn’s largest, and, as you probably know by now, has been a source of interest for a long, long time because of its atmosphere and oceans.
“The thirty scientists and researchers on SAT33 have been on their tour of duty here for two years. They’re all scheduled to return to Earth in about six months. There, uh, there won’t be a replacement team sent.” She looked up at her fellow Council members. “Bhaktul,” she said, and was greeted with somber nods. The disease from Comet Bhaktul, the one that had delivered the death sentence to Earth three years earlier, meant that any future space exploration and research had ground to a halt.
“Anyway, the work has been kept top secret. Roc can probably explain that better than I. Roc?”
The computer voice piped up immediately. “Not only top secret, but using the most intense security measures ever developed. Computer coding unlike anything else ever created. And, the number of people with access to the information could almost fit into this room.”
Gap raised an eyebrow. “Do we even know what they were studying, or looking for?”
“Supposedly it was an intense program designed to isolate and identify the early stages of life,” Roc said. “But we have no idea what they found, if anything. The material radioed back to Earth has never been released, and maybe never will be. The only thing we know for certain is that SAT33 went silent four months ago.”
Triana said, “And, we know that somebody there launched a pod, with the intention that we pick it up.”
“Four months ago, right?” Channy said. “Just coincidence that we launched four months ago?”
Triana shrugged again. “Probably. I don’t see a connection. Unless . . .”
“Unless?” Channy said.
“Unless whoever fired off the pod knew they were in trouble and just happened to find out that our course to Eos would mean a slingshot around Saturn. It’s almost like they wanted us to get whatever information they had worked hard to dig up. I don’t know what happened on that research station, but you have to wonder if they realized they had no chance to get home and wanted their work to survive somehow.”
The room grew quiet. Roc waited a moment, then spoke up.
“I think some of you are under the impression that I am withholding information from you. That’s not the case. I know what Triana knows, and that’s it. This pod will likely be carrying data discs, and maybe more. I am just as curious about it as you are.”
Lita looked over at Triana. “I admit I’m curious, but I’m also a little afraid of what we’re dealing with.”
Lita told the Council about her e-mail the night before and the instructions on preparing a chemical solution. She also told them what Roc had said about the cryogenic connection.
Channy put her head in her hands. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me we’re about to pick up another madman.”
“We can’t assume that,” said Triana, but her voice didn’t hold much conviction.
“Oh, really?” Channy said, raising her head. “These people didn’t leave Earth for Titan until well after Bhaktul Disease began spreading. They’re infected. Or were infected. Or . . . or . . .”
“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Triana said. “Listen, we don’t know anything for sure. Our job is to pick up this pod tomorrow evening. That’s it.”
Channy spread her hands. “But Lita’s shot. What do you think that’s for?”
“I don’t know,” Triana said. “And you don’t, either, so let’s just settle down and not get worked up. We need to keep our heads during this rendezvous. We only get one chance at it. I don’t want any mistakes made because we’re jumpy.”
Another veil of silence settled over the group. Triana noticed that Bon had not said a word during the entire meeting. Not that this was unusual; Bon rarely spoke at Council meetings unless asked a direct question. His bored attitude bothered Triana more than she wanted to admit. She decided to engage him in conversation.
“Any comments, Bon? Is everything okay? You haven’t said anything.”
He looked up at her, then back down at the table. “I have a headache, that’s all,” he growled.
Lita said, “If you need a pain pill, you know where to find me.”
“I don’t need a pill,” Bon said. “It will pass.”
Lita looked back at Triana with an “Oh well, I tried” look on her face.
Triana decided to spend the rest of the meeting making sure everyone was ready for the pod capture. She brought up a new graphic on all of the screens, showing the trajectory of Galahad as it sped past Saturn, along with the dotted line that symbolized the path of the mysterious pod. An x marked the interception point.
As the meeting dragged on, each Council member tried to keep their mind on the business at hand. But Triana was sure they all were thinking exactly what she was thinking: What are we about to bring aboard this ship?
Well, she thought, we’ll know in exactly twenty-seven and a half hours.
Gap sat in the Dining Hall, picking at the fruit on his plate. He had eaten only half of his energy block, and now was making a halfhearted attempt at stabbing the chunks of melon. His appetite was in hiding.
Seated across from him was Lita, who didn’t seem to be suffering from the same problem. “You don’t want that, do you?” she asked as she stole a piece of fruit from his plate. Before he could answer another tray plopped down next to Lita. Gap looked up into the face of Hannah Ross.
He didn’t know her very well, but, like everyone else on the ship, he knew her reputation. Sixteen years old, born and raised in Alaska, and one of the most advanced math and science students on Galahad. Rumor had it that, although extraordinarily pretty, Hannah had never really socialized much or had any real boyfriends, the result of a very strict and protective father who kept her focused on education.
She was known for something else besides her sharp intellect, however. Her skill at painting and sketching was uncanny. As soon as a few crew members had discovered her work during the eighteen-month training period in California, she was in high demand for art. Several of the dorm rooms on Galahad sported beautiful colored pencil drawings that Hannah had created. Many featured alien landscapes, or views of Earth as seen from space. They all seemed more like photographs than drawings, with details that were astonishing.
She nodded a greeting at Gap as she sat down, and he noticed that she had her blond hair pulled back out of her face, a look he had never seen on her before. Lita looked over and said, “Hey, Hannah, what’s new?”
“A lot, actually,” Hannah said, removing her plate and water glass from the tray. “I’m completely blown away by the information we’re getting about Titan. I’ve been gathering all sorts of data for the last couple of days. Haven’t even eaten much, and figured I better get some fuel in me before it gets crazy tomorrow.”
“You’re on break now, right?” Lita said. Each member of the crew rotated work shifts through the various departments on Galahad, and at any given time one group was on a six-week break.
Hannah nodded. “And the timing is perfect, too. I have all day to dig through this stuff from Titan.”
Gap set down his fork—it was useless, he wasn’t hungry anyway—and noticed that Hannah was busy lining up the items she had placed on the table. She straightened her silverware so that it was exactly perpendicular to the edge of the table and adjusted her plate so that it was centered between her utensils and the water glass. Before picking up her own fork, she reached out and lined up the condiment basket so that it was parallel to the thin line running down the middle of the table. Gap watched this in quiet fascination and considered commenting on it. Instead, he asked, “What kind of information about Titan are you talking about?”
Hannah put a napkin across her lap and made brief eye contact with Gap before turning her attention back to her plate. “Well, the people on this research station have learned more about Titan in two years than we had learned in the last hundred years. The methane oceans, the ice caps, the atmosphere, earthquakes. Or, Titan-quakes, I guess.” She smiled shyly, as if she was talking too much. “Just a lot of nerdy scientific stuff, really. Probably not very interesting to most people.”
“I think it’s interesting,” Gap said, and thought he detected a bit of a blush come across Hannah’s face.
Lita, who had been listening to their exchange, chimed in. “What’s the story on their search for life?”
A slight wrinkle appeared on Hannah’s forehead. “Unfortunately, that information is part of this big block of data that’s labeled Top Secret. I can’t get access to that.”
“What do you think?” Lita said.
Hannah set down her water glass—then moved it an inch to the right, Gap saw—and turned to Lita. “There has to be life there. I just feel it. All of the conditions are ripe, and that moon has a lot in common right now with Earth’s early days. Any life-form there might be small, it might be completely alien to us, but I think it’s there.” She looked back and forth between Gap and Lita, the shy smile returning. “Why else would the information be classified?”
“I don’t know,” Gap said. “Maybe they found something dangerous.”
The look on her face told Gap that Hannah wasn’t buying it. He shrugged and held his hands out, palms up. “I’m just saying . . .” His voice trailed off.
“What about this pod?” Lita said. “Have you been able to gather anything else about that?”
“Nope,” Hannah said. “That’s a pretty big mystery by itself. This wasn’t a planned intercept. The pod was fired right as we were launching, and Galahad Command quickly added this little rescue mission as a last-minute thing. There’s no data about who or what is on there. But,” she said, looking briefly at Gap again before averting her eyes, “it can only mean more information somehow. I can’t wait to get it.”
Gap grunted. “I wouldn’t be too excited if I were you. We’re liable to open that thing up and another madman pops out.
We’ve had enough of that on this trip so far.”
“Oh, you don’t really believe that, do you?” Lita said.
“Well, you’re the one who was ordered to put together a wake-up shot.”
Hannah’s face had picked up a worried expression again. “I just feel horrible about the people on that research station. Nobody has heard anything from them in months.” She sighed and set down her fork. “Thirty people,” she mumbled.
This left the three crew members silent as they contemplated a disaster that might have happened out here in deep space. Lonely space, a billion miles from home, where even a small problem could quickly become deadly. The same situation that the crew of Galahad faced daily, although it was rarely discussed. What might have befallen the dedicated scientists and technicians on SAT33?
And could it also affect Galahad?
Gap sat staring at Hannah Ross, and after a moment she looked up and met his gaze. This time she didn’t look away, and Gap felt a small tingle run up his spine. What was this? First Ariel, the Airboarder from Australia, and now Hannah. Did he have two girls vying for his attention? Had he been wallowing in self-pity for so long that he had forgotten there were even other girls on the ship?
Slowly, he smiled.