14

A small knot of crew members huddled together in the outer offices of Sick House, talking in hushed voices. Every few minutes one would peek into the hospital ward, curious about the proceedings, but they all knew to stay out until summoned.

After finishing the most difficult part of the procedure, Lita stepped back and addressed Manu. “Can you get started on the cast? I’m going to update his friends so they can get out of here for now. I’ll be right back to help.”

She stepped out into the office and looked around at the five faces that stared back at her, all draped with concern. She greeted them with a smile.

“Yes,” she said, “it’s definitely broken. In two places, to be exact. I guess when Rico does it, he does it big.”

This brought a nervous chuckle from the group. One of the girls, Vonya, said to Lita, “But he’s okay, right?”

“Oh, sure. He’ll be a celebrity of sorts when he walks out of here with that cast. I guess you guys can be the first to sign it.”

Lita’s casual and confident tone seemed to reassure them. They exchanged relieved glances.

“By the way,” Lita said, “I’ll need to file a full report. So let me get this straight: Rico was at the Airboard track, but he wasn’t riding? Micah, you said something about the bleachers, is that right?”

“Uh, yeah. He was up in the stands with some of us, just watching and … well, heckling, I guess you could say. Rico’s the best Airboarder, you know? But he has more fun than anyone in the stands, too. Anyway, it was almost his turn, so he started to walk down the steps, and when he went to put his helmet on, I guess he misjudged one of the steps, and … well, here we are.”

Lita shook her head. “Hmm. Maybe he won’t be a celebrity after all. If he’d busted his arm on the track it would be one thing. But tripping on the bleachers?”

“Oh, he’s still a celebrity on this ship,” Vonya said. “No one will ever break his record on the track.”

“Don’t let Gap hear you say—”

Lita was interrupted by the whoosh of the door. Gap came flying into the room with a body slung over his shoulders. He made quick eye contact with Lita and, without hesitating, bolted for the hospital ward. As he went past, Lita saw that it was Bon who hung limply, with small spatters of blood on his face and Gap’s shirt. She told the assembled group that it would be best for them to leave, that Rico would be out in a while, then she turned and ran into the ward.

“Over here,” she said to Gap, pointing to a bed against the far wall. Manu, Rico, and two other Sick House workers stared in disbelief. Lita glanced at Manu and said, “Can you finish up without me?”

“No problem,” he said.

Gap, covered in sweat, deposited Bon onto the bed. Lita hurried over beside him. “What happened?” she said, bending to look into Bon’s face.

Gap was breathing heavily. “He was doing what I was afraid of,” he said. “He linked up with the translator. Only this time it knocked him out.”

Lita fought back the urge to scold Gap for not taking her advice in the Council meeting, for not insisting that Bon hand over the translator. She bit her tongue, knowing that it served no purpose to bring that up now. The first order of business was to tend to Bon.

His pulse was weak, his breathing shallow. Lita checked his blood pressure, and when it registered extremely low, she frowned. “He’s in shock.”

Gap rubbed a hand through his hair. “What about the blood?”

“Looks like he landed on his nose and mouth when he collapsed. That doesn’t appear to be anything major, just a bit bloody.” She continued to work on the Swede, but said over her shoulder to Gap, “You went with him? Why didn’t you stop him?”

“No, I didn’t go with him. I was looking for him and found him already linked up, hiding out in the fields.” He quickly summarized what had happened, including Bon’s tortured question.

“‘Where is she?’” Lita said slowly, staring down at Bon. “So … is he trying to find Triana?”

“I would assume so. Anyway, that’s all he said before he passed out and bit the ground.”

“Fool,” Lita muttered under her breath. “I suppose it goes against the medical code to slap an unconscious patient.”

“I can look the other way,” Gap said.

She gave an exasperated sigh. “Listen, it’s probably best if you wait out there. We’ve got some work to do, and then I’ll come talk to you.” She threw a quick look at Gap. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Just mad at this creep for doing this, and mad at myself for being worried about him.”

Lita smiled before turning back to Bon. “We’ll take care of him. If you want, go get yourself cleaned up and I’ll talk to you in a bit.”

For the first time Gap noticed that another bed was occupied. “Rico? What happened to him?”

“He’s a klutz. I’ll tell you about it when I talk to you. Go on, you’re in the way.”

Fifteen minutes later Bon stirred. His eyelids fluttered, then opened. He struggled to raise a hand to his face to shield against the light that seemed to blind him. Lita watched the realization set in as he discovered that he was—once again—in Sick House. This was the second time the Cassini had put him in one of the ward’s beds, and his face displayed immediate irritation.

“What … why…” was all he managed.

“Is this going to become a habit for you?” Lita said, standing beside him. “Should I just move some of the things from your room up here?”

As his eyes grew accustomed to the light he lowered his arm. A moment later it was raised again, this time to inspect the swell of his lip.

“Yes, you look like you’ve been in a fight,” Lita said. “First a bloodied hand, now this.” She pulled his hand down from his face. “Don’t play with that, you’ll pull out the stitch, and the next one won’t be free.”

He shifted his jaw back and forth, opening and closing his mouth. It reminded Lita of the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz.

“May I at least … get some … water?” he croaked to her.

“Right here,” she said, holding up a cup. She held it for him while he drank through a straw. “How’s your head feel?”

He lay back on the pillow and blinked a few times. “It’s fine.”

“I doubt it,” Lita said. “You understand, of course, that in order for a doctor/patient relationship to work, you’ll have to be honest with me.”

“How did I get here?”

“You had a guardian angel wander by and whisk you to safety.”

“Wander by?” Bon said. “Right. Let me guess. Gap.”

“Oh, so now you’re gonna act indignant after he rushed you here when you passed out? How nice.”

Bon fell silent as Manu came over and conferred with Lita about their other patient.

“Sure, he can go if you’re finished,” she said to her assistant. She glanced over at Rico. “Hey, nice job on the cast. Between that and the patch job you did on Karl, you’re racking up an awful lot of experience this week.”

“Thanks,” Manu said with a grin. “Piece of cake.” He escorted Rico out of the ward.

“Okay,” Lita said to Bon. “Get some rest. We’re gonna run a few tests on you in about an hour.”

“What kind of tests? I don’t need any tests.”

“Well, Dr. Hartsfield,” Lita said, “I’m afraid I disagree with your analysis of the patient.” She gave Bon the type of scowl that he usually dished out himself. “You might run the Farms, my friend, but I run this department. I won’t question the way you do your job, so please don’t question me. Deal?”

Bon responded by turning his head away and closing his eyes. Lita made a few notes on a workpad, then walked out to the office. Gap, however, was nowhere to be found. Manu sat alone at his desk.

“Did Gap go back to his room to clean up?” she said.

Manu shook his head. “He hightailed it out of here. Got a call from Engineering.”

“Oh no,” Lita said, dropping into the chair across from Manu’s desk. “That can’t be good. The radiation shield?”

“Yes, it dropped out again. But that’s not all. About three minutes before that, there was another flash of light. Just like the first one.”

Lita frowned. “Are they connected somehow? Or is it just coincidence that they happened so close together?”

Manu shrugged. “Good question.”

“I’ll tell you this,” Lita said. “If Gap and his crew don’t figure something out soon, I’m afraid he’s gonna end up in the bed next to Bon, just from exhaustion.” She set her workpad on his desk and made another note. “I’ve got to go check on something. Do me a favor, please; in about an hour prep Bon for a series of cranial scans.”

Manu raised his eyebrows. “Will do. Anything in particular we’re looking for?”

Lita stood up. “To be honest, I want to make sure he’s still Bon.”

*   *   *

“No,” Gap said. “I don’t want to hear another person say ‘I don’t know.’ We need answers, and we need them right now.” He looked at the faces gathered around him. “Throw out anything, and let’s talk about it.”

His engineering staff stood mute, exchanging quick glances with each other, then looking down at their feet or over Gap’s shoulder.

He rubbed a hand through his hair and let out a long breath. “Okay,” he said softly. “First of all, I need to sit down for a minute.” He dragged a chair over and dropped into it. For a moment he didn’t speak, and rubbed his face with both hands. Finally he said, “I know this sounds dumb, but does anyone have anything to eat in here?”

Julya walked away and came back with an apple. “Sorry, it’s all I’ve got.”

“No, it’s great. Thank you,” he said. He took two large bites, swiped at his face with the back of his hand, then spoke with a mouth full of apple. “I’m not trying to be a jerk, but I wonder if everyone understands how bad this is. Forget about the flash for the moment. We still don’t know what it is or where it’s coming from. Focus on the radiation issue, that’s our primary concern. Eventually we’re gonna get to the point where the shield goes out and doesn’t come back on. And then we’re cooked. Literally.”

He took another healthy bite. “Right now there are no bad ideas. Anything is better than nothing. C’mon, think. What have we missed?”

There was a shuffling of feet, and a couple of people cleared their throats. Then Wiles, one of the ship’s quietest crew members, raised a hand. Gap, taking another bite of the apple, gave him a weary smile. “Wiles, you don’t have to raise your hand. Just tell me what you think. Please.”

“Well … we replaced the unit, and the new one is dropping out, too. Which makes us think that it’s got to be coming from outside the ship.”

“Right,” Gap said. “So?”

“Maybe it’s not,” Wiles said. “I mean, maybe the shield itself is okay, but something else on the ship is causing it to drop out. Like something is stealing its power or something.”

Gap finished the apple with two more bites. He looked at the core in his hand, his mind working over what Wiles was telling him. “It’s something to consider. A long shot, I think, but still, it’s an idea. Anyone else?”

Julya said, “I once took a sightseeing trip with my family to see a lava flow. There were a bunch of us, all packed on this big boat, and we rode out to where the lava was pouring into the sea. It was beautiful, but terrifying at the same time.”

Gap nodded. “Okay. What’s the connection here?”

Julya seemed to chew on her thoughts for a moment. “One of the things I remember was the way the surf smacked into the boat. There was so much turbulence under the water, from the lava flow. We’d go for a while with just gentle waves, and then, without any warning, we’d be tossed into the air by some heavy swell. There was nothing leading up to the big ones, no pattern. Smooth one moment, then a shove.”

“So you’re saying … space waves?” Gap said.

“Exactly. We’ve known for a long time that the solar wind stretches to the edge of our planetary system, out past the Kuiper Belt. Then it smacks head-on into the radiation that the galaxy itself puts out.”

Ruben Chavez looked from Julya to Gap. “That’s right,” he said. “I remember studying that. It’s called the termination shock; it’s like … well, it’s like a film surrounding the solar system.” He turned back to Julya. “But we passed that point already.”

Gap sat forward. His hunger somewhat satisfied by the apple, he was better able to concentrate. “Roc,” he called out. “What about this termination shock?”

“Ruben’s correct,” said the computer. “We have passed the point where the solar winds collide with the incoming galactic radiation. However … and aren’t you happy to know that there’s a ‘however’? Doesn’t it give you hope?”

“I don’t know,” Gap said. “Let me hear the ‘however.’”

“However, farther out, beyond this sinister-sounding termination shock, we zip through an area called the heliopause. By the way, I didn’t make up these scientific terms; they’re words that were coined by very lonely people in a lab late at night.”

“What’s the heliopause?”

“It’s the point where the outgoing radiation and incoming radiation are essentially balanced. A few of those lonely folks dreamed up another concept that I like a whole lot more. Bubbles.”

“Bubbles?” Gap said. He rubbed his forehead. “Please, explain the bubbles.”

The computer seemed to take delight in the discussion. “See, aren’t you intrigued already? These interstellar winds that are blowing into our solar system get pushed around it by the outgoing solar wind, like a river rushing around rocks. So some very brilliant people suggested that it forms bubbles as they pass.”

Gap looked at Ruben and Julya. “So you’re saying that we might be colliding with interstellar bubbles?”

Julya looked at Ruben, then back to Gap. “Yeah, I guess so. Just an idea.”

“And a pretty good one,” Gap said. “So just to get this straight: we cruise through calm space, like your sightseeing boat, until we bump up against one of these bubbles, just like the waves you described.”

Nobody said anything as they all digested this.

“See, I told you it was a fun idea,” Roc said. “And now, sadly, and with great regret, I must bring you back down.”

“What does that mean?” Gap said.

“Those brilliant scientists, the ones who came up with the space bubble idea? They were pretty sure that, if it happened, it happened at the termination shock, not the heliopause.”

“And we’ve already passed that point.”

“See, you’re depressed again,” the computer said.

Gap stood up and paced the room for a moment. It seemed that every time they inched ahead, they were shoved right back again. Julya’s suggestion seemed reasonable to him, and yet Roc had—he winced at the pun—burst their bubble. Wiles’s idea about the energy drain from inside the ship was a possibility, but somehow it didn’t feel right.

Which put them right back where they were. Gap kept pacing, aware that his team members’ eyes were on him. Stay positive, he told himself.

He stopped next to the chair. “Okay, this is what we need,” he said. “Ideas. Suggestions. Theories. They at least give us something to work with. And one idea might lead us towards something that we never would have considered. I don’t want to discard any of these suggestions right now; let’s kick them around a bit. Maybe it is something inside the ship that’s affecting the shield. And maybe these bubbles happen farther out than we think. Maybe the lightning that we’re seeing has something to do with it all. Keep plugging away, and let’s work it out.”

The team broke up and moved back to their work spaces. Gap stayed another five minutes, then headed for the Dining Hall.

The first election forum was seven hours away.