16

When people sit around and argue I tend to get bored easily. In most cases both sides have already made up their minds, and no amount of screaming and name-calling is going to have an effect. If you want my opinion, many times it’s about the screamer trying to convince themselves that they’re right, not the other person. The louder the voice, the more insecure they are about their position. Think about it.

But a good old-fashioned debate … now THAT’S practical. Sometimes referred to as persuasive speech, two people address a willing audience with the intent of making strong points that will convince the receptive crowd to join their side. It’s a valuable exercise, as long as the participants are being honest. By participants I mean both the debaters and the audience. Those arguing their points must present honest information, and those in the crowd must honestly be open to both messages.

Of course—and I’m whispering here—I personally have to admit that a little name-calling, while not productive, is good for a few laughs. Sadly, I don’t see either Gap or Hannah stooping to that.

Sigh.

*   *   *

Gap felt awkward sitting next to Hannah on the front row of the auditorium, especially since they had exchanged only cordial greetings and then not another word. With one chair separating them, both pretended to be absorbed in their notes, preparing for their moment in the spotlight. He knew that the buzz from the packed house behind them likely included more than a little gossip about the two candidates; the crew, he figured, had to be loving the show.

He found himself using every muscle of his peripheral vision to look at Hannah. Her hair was pulled back and up, a look that he had to admit was stunning. She wore a light blue shirt that, to him, seemed professional, yet warm and approachable. She sat with perfect posture and gave every indication that she was poised and perfectly at ease.

He, on the other hand, felt slumped and nervous. He shifted in his chair, setting his shoulders back and crossing one leg over the other. Tilting his head back, he draped an arm over the back of the chair beside him and accidentally tapped Hannah on the shoulder. “Sorry,” he mumbled, moving his hand back to his side.

Lita and Channy were nowhere to be seen, which meant they had chosen to melt into the background. Bon, of course, would not be here, even if he hadn’t been sent to his room to recover from the Cassini incident. For the first time since the launch, Gap would be out in front without any visible sign of Council support.

And that’s fine, he told himself. He’d performed solo dozens of times in front of packed gymnasiums while involved with the Chinese national gymnastics program. When he put on Airboarding exhibitions he was alone in the limelight, and he enjoyed it. This, he kept reminding himself, was no different.

And yet there was no denying the trickles of sweat that slipped down the back of his neck. He wondered if Hannah could see that.

They had agreed that the forum should be moderated by someone not associated with the Council or a close friend of either candidate. Gina Perotti had volunteered, and the auditorium grew hushed as the dark-haired girl from northern Italy made her way across the stage to one of the two podiums.

“Good evening,” she said. “We all know what tonight is about, but let me quickly tell you how it will work.”

Gap shifted again in his seat. Even Gina seemed to be completely relaxed. He casually dabbed at another drop of sweat near his temple.

“Two candidates have been nominated for the position of Council Leader: Gap Lee and Hannah Ross. Both candidates understand that this might be only a temporary measure, and have stated their intention to remain in office only until Triana Martell returns to the ship and is deemed fit to hold the position, or until the standard Council elections that take place in about twenty-two months.

“This forum tonight is the first of two; the second will take place on Friday, and the election will be held on Saturday morning. Tonight’s agenda is simple; both candidates will have a maximum of ten minutes to make a formal address, then we’ll have up to thirty minutes allotted for questions from the crowd. At the end, the candidates will be given five minutes each to summarize and make closing statements. That means everything should be wrapped up in about an hour.”

Gap chanced another sideways glance at Hannah. She still appeared completely unruffled. This time, however, she turned to look back at him and offered a polite smile.

“The order is unimportant,” Gina said, “but one name was chosen at random to go first, and that was Gap. So, please welcome our first candidate for the position of Council Leader: Gap Lee.”

Polite applause and a few whistles from the back of the room greeted him as he sprang up the steps. He nodded thanks to Gina and made his way to the first podium. He had a momentary flash of standing in this exact spot just a few days ago, addressing the crew, leading them through the first dark hours after Triana disappeared. Tonight was a different story; tonight he was making a sales pitch.

He had debated whether or not to use notes for his presentation and, in the end, opted to take a chance by simply shooting from the hip. He hoped that whatever he lost in crispness would be compensated for by a natural, conversational delivery. He’d heard of politicians long ago delivering what they called “fireside chats,” and decided to try a modern version.

Adopting the most relaxed stance he could, he looked out over the faces. “Let me start by saying that I wish we weren’t here tonight. I think if we all had our way, Triana would still be our Council Leader, we’d be cruising along with no problems whatsoever, and Channy would give us all two days off each week without running us into the ground.”

There was a smattering of laughter, exactly the type of beginning that Gap was looking for.

“But the fact of the matter is that Triana is currently missing, and we have a problem with our radiation shield that is potentially dangerous. With everything that’s going on, it’s too bad that we also must deal with an election. So, while we know that change is inevitable … it doesn’t have to be extreme. Tonight I’ll show you that a slight adjustment in the Council would make the most sense during a topsy-turvy time. I’m confident that you’ll choose leadership experience during a crucial moment in our journey.”

Up until this point Gap had memorized what he was going to say. From here on out, however, it would be whatever felt right at the time. For the next few minutes he talked about the trials they’d weathered together, from the stowaway, to the critical encounter around Saturn, and the deadly minefield of the Kuiper Belt. Without directly referencing it, he alluded to the fiery confrontation that had divided the crew during their Kuiper crisis, hoping that it would bring back memories of his victory over Merit on this very stage. Gap believed that it was the strongest card he could play.

But there had been more recent confrontations, he said. These violent altercations jeopardized not only the health of those involved, but potentially the safety of the entire crew. Damages from one of the fights had even put their food supply at risk. This would not be tolerated.

When his ten minutes were up, he thanked the crew for their attention and descended the stairs to his seat on the front row. Gina returned to the microphone.

“Our second candidate for the position of Council Leader is Hannah Ross.”

Polite applause spread across the auditorium. To Gap it seemed to represent a combination of courtesy and curiosity.

Hannah apparently had no qualms with using prepared notes. She placed her workpad on the podium and shyly gazed out at the crew. The first sound she made was a nervous chuckle. Gap couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not, but the effect was obvious: the crew smiled back at her, as if they felt the butterflies she must be experiencing. Brilliant, Gap thought. Brilliant.

Hannah looked down at her workpad. “Three years is not a long time, really. Well, three years ago I was coming home from school, looking forward to a quiet evening at home, maybe doing some homework, then a little painting. I remember that I was working on a chalk piece that was a lot of fun, and I was anxious to try to finish it that night.

“I still have the memory of both of my parents waiting for me at the door. They never did that; they were usually off at work when I got home. But there they were. The first thing I thought was, ‘Oh no, Grandma’s sick again.’ I couldn’t tell from their faces if they were happy, or sad, or … or what. But they brought me inside, sat me down, and told me the news: I had been accepted to the Galahad training center. Just like all of you. You probably remember the day you found out, too.”

Gap marveled at the way she was connecting emotionally with the crowd. He never knew that she had that skill hidden behind her shy, quiet exterior. He could feel a definite vibe in the air, a feeling that the crew of Galahad was collectively embracing Hannah.

“And now,” she said, “three years later, I’m not only part of a select group of people who have been chosen to colonize a new world, but I’m standing here tonight, applying for the position of Council Leader.” She chuckled again, then added, “And you know what? I never did finish that chalk drawing.”

Now a genuine rush of laughter swelled towards the stage. Gap was not immune to her charm either, and found himself laughing as well.

“But that’s okay,” Hannah said, regaining her control of the room. “I’ve had some time to pursue my love of art, and a lot of time to do what I love the most: science and mathematics. I’m so lucky to be part of this mission, and to have the galaxy as a laboratory. Believe me, I don’t take it for granted.

“I understand that I might not have the Council experience that Gap has, and I also know that I don’t necessarily have a dynamic, outgoing personality. I’m aware of all of that. But I hope that, after you get to know me, and get to know my work ethic, you’ll support my run for the position of Council Leader. By the time you vote this Saturday morning, I intend to answer any questions about my abilities that you might have.”

Solid, Gap decided. Her presentation was honest and straightforward. She didn’t hide her lack of leadership experience, and the fact that she addressed her own reputation for being shy turned it to her advantage. He had to admit that he was impressed.

When she finished her opening comments, there was another wave of applause. This time, to Gap’s ear, it seemed congratulatory. She acknowledged the response while Gina waved Gap onstage to stand at the other podium.

“And now,” Gina said, “as I mentioned, there will be a question and answer period. I know that some of you might want to use this time to show off or try to make everyone laugh, but please, serious questions only. Both Hannah and Gap will have up to two minutes to answer each question.”

A handful of arms were raised, and, one by one, crew members stood and addressed the candidates. The first two questions had to do with their views on the mission so far, and their vision for how to handle what might lie ahead. Both Hannah and Gap gave articulate and well-reasoned answers.

From the second row an arm was raised. “There has been some talk going around about both of you sharing the position of Council Leader, since it might only be temporary. Thoughts on that?”

Gap looked over at Hannah to see if she wanted to answer first; she looked back at him. He decided to jump in.

“I haven’t heard anything about that,” he said. “However, I don’t think it’s a good idea. Too many times people are so leery of change, or of hurting someone’s feelings, that they try to please everyone at the same time. We have to be tougher than that. I obviously respect the abilities that Hannah has, and I hope she feels the same about me. Leadership is about making the tough decisions, whether they’re popular or not; it’s about being brave enough to stick your neck out, to make a decision based on the facts and what’s best for the ship and crew. Believe me, the Council is important, and it’s good to have a committee on some things. But in the end, what we need is someone who will stand up and make the call. That’s why you elect a Council Leader.”

Hannah nodded. “I agree with Gap. I know that some people want everything to always be friendly and smooth. Well, it doesn’t always work out that way. If I’m elected Council Leader, I will always want the opinions of Gap, the rest of the Council, and even the feedback from you, the crew. But ultimately a leader makes a call. So, no, I would never advocate sharing a leadership position.”

A question was posed about making changes to the rotating work cycles; both Hannah and Gap gave vague answers, mainly because neither thought the issue to be the most critical item they had to deal with at the time.

Finally, the question that had been avoided to this point was posed by Mathias. “I’d like to know what each of you thinks might be causing the problem with the radiation shield, and what you suggest we do about it. And your thoughts on what everyone is calling the space lightning.”

It was Gap’s turn to go first. He knew that this, of all the issues they faced, was the one which might determine the outcome of the election. He had agonized over the best way to approach it with the crew and knew that it was a tricky proposition. To propose an idea that was unproven, or to suggest something that turned out to be wrong, could be disastrous. On the other hand, to say “I have no idea” would be political suicide.

He looked around the room. It was deadly silent.

“Here’s where we stand on the radiation shield problem as of this afternoon,” he said. “The power unit which drives the shield continues to randomly drop out, usually for less than one second, but a couple of times now for a little more. I want to start by giving credit to the hard-working team in Engineering. They’ve voluntarily put in extra hours, and have handled the situation professionally and competently. I couldn’t ask for better people to work with side by side.

“I think you all know how serious this could turn out to be. There’s always a possibility, of course, that it’s something temporary that we’ll leave behind as quickly as it started. But we can’t automatically assume that. So we approach it in two parts: isolate the problem, then solve it.”

He knew that a general answer to the question wouldn’t satisfy most of the crew, but still he wanted to tread carefully. Plus, he did his best to put himself in Hannah’s shoes and tried to guess how she would respond to the question. He was in the midst of the crisis down in Engineering; what information could she provide without the same access? He wondered if his best position on the issue would be to offer the fewest details possible and trust that Hannah’s contribution would be even less. He swallowed hard and charged forward.

“We began by replacing the shield unit itself, and that changed nothing. So, although there’s a slight possibility that the problem is internal, it now appears most likely that we’re being affected by something outside the ship.

“We’ve investigated a variety of ideas, and currently we believe that we might be dealing with a phenomenon that we’ve labeled ‘space waves.’ These are waves of radiation that are produced naturally in our galaxy but are normally diverted around our solar system by our sun’s own energy blast. When these space waves make contact at the extreme edge of our system, they create ripples. Galahad is shooting through these ripples, and it’s having a negative reaction with our radiation shield.”

Gap paused. The crew was completely absorbed in his description. It was a gamble for him to so quickly default to Julya’s suggestion of the space waves, but it simply seemed to be the most viable idea so far. From the third row he could see Ruben staring up at him, a worried expression on his face. Ruben had voiced the biggest potential roadblock to the wave theory, the fact that Galahad was too far beyond the outer ring of the solar system for the waves to have this effect. But, again, it was the best suggestion so far. Gap ran with it.

However, he knew that the assembled crew members were waiting for the most important detail of all: what to do about it. For that, honesty would have to suffice.

“I’d love to tell you how we combat this problem, but I can’t. We’re working around the clock and hope to have a solution soon. If it is indeed a wave problem, then one idea is that we develop a method of riding the waves.”

“Surfing!” someone shouted from the middle of the room, which prompted a tension-breaking laugh.

“Well,” Gap said with a smile, “if that’s what it takes, I’m all for it. Those of us who like to Airboard would love it.” The other boarders in the room responded with a shout and applause.

“And finally,” he said, “I know that we’re all curious and a little concerned about the latest mystery to hit us. We just don’t have enough information about these intense flashes of light that have struck us twice. We haven’t noticed any damage, but we can’t say for sure.” He shook his head. “Actually, when I say we don’t have enough information, the truth is that we don’t have any information. We see the flash of light, we pick up readings of bizarre particles that we can’t identify … and that’s it. Is it tied to the radiation issue? I wish I knew.”

He looked over at Hannah and nodded. He had enormous respect for her scientific mind and was curious to hear what her answer might be. She looked down at her workpad for a long time.

“As some of you know,” she said, “I spend most of my free time immersed in the science of our trip. Space fascinates me, always has. I loved our slingshot around Saturn; I was practically obsessed with the possibilities of life on Titan, and then our discovery of the Cassini; and I spent hours trying to solve the mysteries of the Kuiper Belt. All of it, to me, boils down to the pure beauty of mathematics.

“So now, as you can imagine, my focus has been on the radiation problem. I’m not in the trenches with Gap and his team—and believe me, I wish my rotation right now was in Engineering—but the majority of my free time has been consumed by the available data and some spirited discussions with Roc.”

Gap felt a twinge of jealousy. Of course Roc was at the disposal of each and every crew member on the ship, but he couldn’t help but feel that theirs was a special relationship. To think that the computer might somehow inadvertently aid Hannah in her campaign …

“So, do I have a definite answer?” Hannah continued. “No. I certainly don’t have a clue about the space lightning. As Gap said, it leaves nothing for us to grab on to. But I do have what I strongly believe to be the most likely cause of our radiation dilemma.”

She threw a quick glance at Gap, and he swore that her expression said, “Are you ready for this?” Then, looking back over the packed auditorium, she said, “Although I respect Gap’s position, the problem is not caused by space waves. The shield that we rely upon to protect us from this sea of deadly radiation is being shaken apart at the molecular level, as is the rest of the ship, including the engines and life support. We haven’t seen those effects yet, but we will.”

The crew was shell-shocked. They sat frozen in their seats, staring up at the stage, afraid to utter a sound. Gap waited for a count of ten before deciding to plunge in with a question of his own.

“And what,” he said, “is causing this molecular destruction?”

Hannah turned to face him. “The same wormhole that took Triana away from us. It might have folded up and disappeared, but it left behind some significant damage, something that we’re still feeling, and will likely have to deal with for a while. I think the best way to describe it is to say that this section of space is bruised.”

There was a sudden release of energy in the room as the crew reacted. A loud rumble of voices swallowed the auditorium, with dozens of individual conversations competing with one another. Gap’s mouth fell open, and he stared across the stage at Hannah, who stood patiently behind her podium, watching, waiting.