12

He usually played Masego against Roc in the Rec Room, but tonight Gap chose to stay in his room. It had been a brutally long day: his run-in with Bon in the Council meeting; another violent confrontation between crew members, one that could potentially mean the loss of food inventory; not to mention endless tests of the radiation shield in the Engineering Section. He was exhausted physically and mentally, and the idea of a large crowd bubbling around him did not sound appealing. His roommate, Daniil, had picked up on Gap’s weariness and politely excused himself to meet up with friends.

Faint sounds of rainfall escaped from the room’s speakers. Gap’s family had relocated from China to America’s northwest corner, so he found the sound comforting. It was a frequent soundtrack choice when he was alone.

The vidscreen displayed the Masego board, but Gap’s attention wandered. In twenty-four hours he would address the crew again, only this time it would be an audition. He was torn between knuckling down and preparing for the meeting, or unplugging his whirling mind and finding a distraction. He’d hoped that another fruitless contest against Roc, with a healthy dose of the computer’s sarcastic observations, would take his mind off everything that had piled up in the last week.

It didn’t.

Slumped in his chair, he tapped at the folded sheet of paper on the desk, flicking it back and forth. A battle raged within him, one side telling him to read the note again, another urging him to lock it away, or even to destroy it. Another tap sent the note spinning.

“Are you going to make a move?” the computer said.

“Just a minute,” Gap said. He eyed the paper, prepared to stow it away in a drawer. But instead he watched his hand snake out and grasp the folded page. In a moment it was open, and he once again scanned Triana’s handwriting.

Gap, I know that my decision will likely anger you and the other Council members, but in my opinion there was no time for debate, especially one that would more than likely end in a stalemate.

There are too many unknowns for us to make the important decisions we face. The wormholes, the vultures, and, most importantly, the beings that are behind both of these. We have to know what we’re dealing with.

I don’t want to risk taking the ship through a wormhole until we know more about them, and yet I don’t want to wait to find out what might come through from the other side.

I’m going through.

I understand the pressure this will put on the Council, and you especially, and for that I’m sorry. But I hope that at some point, when you’re able to step back and look at it from a perspective of time, you’ll understand why I did this. As you take on more leadership responsibilities I think it will become much more clear.

As for the other issues that you must deal with, all I can offer is the advice I received from Dr. Zimmer: “Do what is right. Your heart may fight you at times, but you always know what is right.”

Good luck. Until I see you again … Tree

Gap read the last few lines twice. Triana—and Dr. Zimmer—were right: his heart seemed to fight him, even when he knew what was right. It was so hard.

Before he folded the paper again, he looked at her final words and wondered if he would indeed see her again. For now, he—

“Is this a new tactic?” Roc said, shaking him from his trance. “Stalling? Do you think all of the other duties that I’m working on simultaneously will distract me enough so that you can finally win?”

“Sorry, Roc, I’m just not into Masego tonight. Can’t shut off my monkey mind.”

“I could play with half my circuits tied behind my motherboard.”

“And you’d still whip me. Not before letting me think I had a chance, of course, just to keep me interested.”

The computer manufactured an exaggerated sigh. “What’s the matter, Bunky? Feeling a bit overwhelmed? Do you need a hug? It would have to be virtual, of course, but you know if I had arms I would, right?”

“No, I’m … Well, yes, all right, I’ll be honest. I’m feeling a touch overwhelmed right now,” Gap said. He casually slipped the folded note back into a desk drawer.

“That’s not surprising,” Roc said. “I’ve read a few million articles about this emotion in humans, and the consensus from the experts is that you should quit trying to scale the whole mountain and just concentrate on a single step. Sounds reasonable, and yet impossible.”

Gap laughed. “Agreed! Sometimes I have a hard time seeing the next step because it seems like the whole mountain is about to collapse on me. What do the experts have to say about that?”

“Well,” Roc said, “why don’t we humor them and try their technique for a moment? What is one item in your overwhelming stack?”

“Ugh, where to begin? Okay, the radiation shield. If we don’t figure that out pronto it’s lights out.”

“And you have about a dozen people hard at work on that right now,” Roc said. “Not to mention the services of my brilliant self. Trust that it will be resolved.”

Gap slid off the chair and sprawled across the floor into a position that he found the most relaxing. He laced his fingers behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. “Right. Then there’s the latest headache with Bon. I can’t figure that guy out; sometimes he’s this close to actually being civil, then he throws on the brakes and goes back to being … Oh, what’s a good word? Insufferable. Yeah, that’s it. My mom used that word a lot, and I think it applies to Bon. He can be insufferable.”

“He said that he would defer to the Council Leader’s wishes, however,” Roc said. “Surely you don’t think he’ll cause any damage before the end of the week, do you?”

Gap thought about this for a moment before answering. “Well, probably not. But this whole Cassini thing is such a wild card. We have no idea what we’re really messing with, you know? Bon said that it’s personal, so I don’t see how that could hurt the ship. At the same time, though, if he damages himself then we lose the one person who’s able to speak with the Cassini. Lita’s worried about brain damage, and I agree with her.”

“Then let’s assume for the time being that the ship will survive Bon’s connection, at least through this weekend,” Roc said. “What else?”

“The election.”

“Yes, what about it?”

“What do you mean, ‘what about it’? It’s kind of a big deal, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes, it’s a big deal,” Roc said. “But worrying about it is pointless. Prepare, do your best, accept what happens.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Do you have any idea what kind of work went into programming me so that I can actually speak? Nothing is easy for me to say. I’m a phenomenon, a true miracle of science.”

Gap moved his hands from behind his head and covered his eyes with one arm. Talking with Roc was always an exercise in patience, but he had to admit that the repartee made him feel better.

His mind whirled through the other items in his stack, and, as it had for the past couple of days, arrived at the same place: Hannah. Could he talk to Roc about that?

“Let me ask you something,” he said, his voice slightly muffled by the arm across his face. “When we have talks like this, are you bound by some sort of confidentiality agreement? You know, like back home, with psychiatrists and priests? Does this conversation stay here, or will I hear it replayed inside the Dining Hall during lunch someday?”

“Yes, you can talk to me about Hannah and it will remain private between us.”

Gap slowly pulled his arm away and sat up on his elbows. “You scare me sometimes.”

“You’re not as tough to read as you think, Gap. What, did you think we’d have to be hush-hush about a discussion on ion drive power modification? I got news for you, pal, the whole crew is fairly amused that the election of a new Council Leader comes down to two people who were all kissy-face just a few weeks ago.”

Lying back again, Gap’s gaze returned to the ceiling. “I know, I know. What did they use to call those daytime television shows a long time ago?”

“Soap operas.”

“That’s it. Well, I know this is like a real-life soap opera, but when you’re in the middle of the drama it’s no fun. And since when were you programmed to use phrases like ‘kissy-face’? Please don’t say that again; coming from you it’s just too weird.”

“So what do you want to talk about? Open up to Brother Roc. It stays right here with us.”

Gap thought about it. Despite the fact that his mind was racing out of control, he was at a complete loss as to where to begin. It all seemed so … irrational. Embarrassment washed over him, and suddenly he regretted broaching the subject at all.

“Oh, never mind,” he said.

“Chicken,” Roc said. “Listen, you lie there and contemplate the ceiling tiles, and I’ll tell you what I deduce from our history together. It’s not the possibility of losing the election that bothers you, and it’s not even the fact that you could possibly lose to someone you had a relationship with. It’s this little corner of your mind that whispers to you that you’re somehow not worthy. Forget whether the crew believes in you or not; your first priority is to believe in yourself. I haven’t seen these doubts in yourself until recently, but I’ll bet they’ve always been there. You just covered them up with a big, toothy smile and a bucket full of charm.”

“That’s a fancy way of saying I’m insecure,” Gap said. “I suppose that makes me unfit to lead.”

“I don’t want to say you sound stupid when you talk like that, but I’m going to anyway,” Roc said. “You sound stupid. You must think that everyone else on this ship is blessed with total and complete confidence in themselves, and that no one else has self-doubts. That would be a gross miscalculation. There’s not a human being walking these curved corridors who doesn’t hear the same whispers you do, just in different flavors. One person has self-doubts about their intelligence, another about their looks, another about their artistic talents, another about their leadership. Are you getting the picture here?”

“I’m getting a verbal spanking, that’s what I’m getting.”

“You better be glad I don’t have those arms after all, because instead of a hug right now I’d be thumping you on the head.”

Gap couldn’t help but smile. “Did Roy have a violent streak in him, too?”

“Roy had more common sense than just about anyone I know, and he was also just about the smartest computer engineer in history. But I spent thousands of hours talking with him while he fine-tuned my programming, and I could rattle off a handful of his insecurities, too. Here’s what made him different from most humans, though: he acknowledged those insecurities, and actually worked at them, rather than use them as an excuse.”

Shifting onto one side, Gap propped his head up with one hand. He thought about Roy Orzini, the diminutive man who befriended many of Galahad’s crew members during their training. Gap and Roy had verbally sparred, and it was only natural for Roc to pick up where Roy left off. If Roy had carried around self-doubts, they certainly never showed.

Well, Gap thought, I guess we all wear masks of some sort, don’t we?

“I always thought he might be a bit touchy about his height,” he said.

“And there you would be wrong again,” the computer said. “You might have felt that way if you were his size, but Roy never gave that a bit of worry. In his eyes, physical appearance was the least important of any human attribute. In fact, he felt that it gave him an advantage of sorts, because people often underestimated him purely by sizing him up. I think he felt sorry for people who believed their looks or body type were their most important characteristics. And yet he understood that the vast majority of people live in a very shallow pool. He chose to play in the mental end of the pool, where size didn’t matter at all. And, I think you’ll agree, the man did quite well for himself.”

There was no question about that. Gap felt ashamed for automatically assuming that Roy was burdened by a physical trait that, in reality, meant nothing. Perhaps, he thought, we’d all be much better off if we drifted closer to that mental end of the pool.

“Still wanna talk about Hannah?” Roc said with a touch of humor in his voice.

“No,” Gap said. “Maybe another time.”

He pushed himself to his feet and stretched. His muscles ached, but not from overuse. In fact, just the opposite, he decided. A good night’s sleep would be helpful, along with a good workout to burn off some stress. On top of that, it had been much too long since he’d visited the Airboard track, his favorite diversion. All of that would have to wait, however, until he prepared some notes for the first election forum.

Before he could sit down to compose his thoughts, Roc spoke up again.

“Don’t get comfortable. Another shield failure in Engineering.”

Gap stopped and immediately twisted around, looking for his shoes. “How long this time?”

“Three seconds, then one and a half.”

“Two failures?”

“That’s correct. Fifteen seconds apart.”

Without stopping to put them on, Gap snatched up his shoes and darted for the door. “Let them know I’m on my way,” he called out to the computer.