I don’t like to brag. Okay, that’s a lie; I love to brag. Blame that on Roy Orzini, who made up for his short stature by puffing himself up to a virtual six foot two just by way of his bravado.
But let me just say that throwing an electronic lasso around a small metal pod that was streaking around Saturn at speeds that defy the imagination . . . well, that’s pure genius. Thank you.
Please don’t think I’m limited to technical wizardry, however. I have written poems, designed a fairly snazzy crew uniform that was ultimately shot down by people who obviously wear black shoes with a brown belt, and my singing voice is pure velvet, man, velvet.
Why am I telling you all this? Because Triana and the gang are about to examine the pod, and I thought you might need a diversion to keep you from biting off your fingernails.
The Spider bay had repressurized, and now life-support systems were restoring the air and warming the room after its exposure to the icy vacuum of space. Four of the Council members stood anxiously in the Spider bay control room, looking through the large pane of glass that separated them from the pod.
Triana felt a surge of various emotions. Being back in this room had an effect on her that she hadn’t expected. She wished, for a moment, that Bon were here right now. It might force him to at least acknowledge that something had passed between them. Where was he? Was he consciously avoiding this moment for those very reasons?
Triana bit her lip and took a quick glance at Gap, who for some reason seemed to feel uncomfortable himself. What in this room could make him feel that way? It had to be the pod. Had to be.
She turned her attention back to the egg-shaped craft that sat silently, waiting for them. Slightly smaller than their own Spiders, it lacked the arms necessary to make it handy as a repair vehicle. But it was never designed for that. No, this was purely an escape vessel, a relay ship, a short-term form of transportation. A space taxi, almost. And an extremely mysterious taxi, at that.
Block lettering along one side identified the craft as a unit of the combined U.S./European Space Agency. Flag emblems, representing the six countries primarily responsible for the SAT33 mission, were stenciled under one of the windows. The windows themselves were dark, unwilling to give up the secrets locked inside.
Roc’s voice broke the silence. “Okay, all systems are go, the room is pressurized and heat is back to normal. Please have your tickets ready, and remember, you must be at least forty-eight inches tall to ride. Thank you, and enjoy your day at Spaceland.”
The Council members chuckled, thankful for Roc’s talent at easing the apprehension they all felt.
“Here we go,” Triana said, opening the door to the hangar and leading the group in. Lita, a look of wonder in her eyes, followed her, a small medical bag slung over one shoulder. Channy was next, unusually quiet for a change. She looked back nervously to make sure Gap followed closely next to her. He was a step behind, his free hand unconsciously rubbing the hand that stuck out from the sling, his eyes sizing up the new arrival on their ship.
They stopped about ten feet away, forming a small semi-circle around the pod. After a moment Triana reached into a pocket and retrieved a slip of paper that Roc had prepared for her. It contained detailed instructions on how to open the rear hatch of the pod from the outside. She had studied it earlier, but now scanned it again to refresh her memory. While the others waited, she walked up tentatively to an emergency panel and began to punch in a code. A small access door opened, revealing another keypad and a small handle. With another quick glance at her instructions, Triana keyed in one more code, then grasped the handle. She looked back at the other Council members.
“Ready?” she said.
Lita nodded. Gap gave a shaky thumbs-up with his good hand and said, “Let’s do it.”
At first the small handle felt as if it wasn’t going to budge in her hand. But with a bit more muscle, Triana felt it turn. There was a squeak of air as the hatch on the pod released pressure, then a metallic clunk as it popped open almost two inches. Nobody moved, but instead attempted to peer through the crack into the dark interior.
Channy wrinkled her nose. “Smells . . . musty.”
“Well,” Lita said, “it’s been sealed up for about four months. At least it doesn’t smell like anything is . . . uh . . .”
Triana nodded and finished the sentence for her. “Dead.”
Lita shrugged. “Yeah.”
Channy, a grimace covering her face, turned to Lita. “Dead? You thought there might be something dead on this thing?”
“To tell you the truth, Channy, I had no idea. But it was possible. We don’t know anything about it. Nothing would surprise me.”
Triana, Gap, and Lita took a couple of steps closer to the hatch. Channy held her ground, the grimace lingering.
“Okay, I guess I should go first,” Triana said. She reached out and pulled the hatch open another two feet.
“Maybe I should,” Lita said. “I have the medical bag, after all.” She laughed. “This will be my first house call.”
“Hold it a second,” Gap said. “Let me go first.”
Channy, still standing back a few steps, snorted. “Oh, I suppose a one-armed man is stronger than any woman with two good wings?”
“No, that’s not it. I just—”
Roc chimed in from the overhead speaker. “I would go, but I suppose a woman with two good wings is better than a computer with no legs.”
“Never mind, I’ll go first,” Lita said. Without waiting for an argument she reached up to a handrail beside the open door and pulled herself up. Ducking her head inside the dark interior of the pod, she slipped through the opening, the medical bag swinging from the strap over her shoulder.
“Here, take this,” Triana said, holding out a small flashlight. Lita snapped it on, and took another step inside. The others watched as she disappeared into the gloom, the tight beam of the flashlight swiveling from side to side.
In a moment Lita’s voice called out to them. “It’s set up a lot like our Spiders. Two pilot’s seats up front, and a couple more seats here in the back.” Pause. “Plenty of storage bins, it looks like. Whew, that musty smell is pretty strong, actually.” Pause. “Oh, wow, there’s a long cylinder in here that looks like it was set up for suspended animation, all right. The cover is made of glass, and it’s kind of glazed. Hard to see inside.” Pause. “There’s another . . .” Pause. “Wait.”
Triana and Gap leaned against the side of the pod, their heads sticking in through the hatch. Channy had walked up and stood directly behind them, her hands clenching and unclenching.
After a long moment of silence, Triana called out. “Lita?”
Nothing.
Triana called out again, louder this time. “Lita?”
Gap, his eyes wide, grabbed the handrail with his free hand and scrambled to get his foot up into the pod. The sling made it difficult to maneuver, and Triana started to help boost him inside. She felt the sweat begin to roll off her face. What was going on in there?
Just as she began to push Gap, she felt him stop. She looked up to see Lita standing just inside the door of the pod, a stunned look on her face. “Lita, what is it? Are you all right?”
Lita looked directly into Triana’s eyes and said, “You are not going to believe this.”