Chapter 1
1 When Alex Rose opened his eyes, he was staring at the familiar white shell covering his and Mary’s bed: cocoon, communication module, and bunker to survive a space catastrophe. But there had been no catastrophes on the faster than light ship Goddard’s mission to the red dwarf star Lalande. Not that there hadn’t been close shaves. Within the great blue spot on the ancient star system’s inner gas giant, the planet they called Bubba, an alien race older than the earth had built a habitat, a giant glowing egg that had nearly been the grave of one of Goddard’s shuttles and its crew.
He sat up. Mary Seventeen was in the shower stall, steaming her slim body. He could hear her humming the old Martian favorite, “Sands o’ Love.”
Alex yawned. “Good morning, Captain Rose,” said the computer. “Shall I prepare your usual breakfast?”
“Not too hot this time!” He knew the computer was testing his health, but Alex allowed himself to enjoy the illusion of being waited on. “And hold my calls for an hour,” he added, trying to sound serious.
“Understood, Captain Rose,” said the computer.
Mary appeared at the rounded opening to their egg and peered inside. Her wet platinum hair hung in tangles and she was wearing a sheer nightgown Alex hoped no other man aboard the Goddard would see. “May I sit on your face now?” she asked politely.
“I need a shower.” It had been a while since they made love and he wanted it to be perfect. “But hold that thought. I’ll be right back.” He smiled engagingly and jumped off the bed toward the lavatory.
As he brushed past Mary she grabbed his rear and squeezed. “You’d better.”
The push of her hand sent him sprawling onto the polycel foam floor. He landed softly and got up. “Good this biocylinder doesn’t pull Earth gees.”
Mary sat on the bed and crossed her legs, letting the robe fall open enticingly to reveal most of her genetically perfect features. “You were going to shower?”
It was the fastest shower he’d ever taken, and when he’d toweled enough he burst out of the lavatory naked.
“A lot can change in five minutes, Alex,” said Mary. She was dressed in a flight suit, standing next to Connie Tsu and Tony Sciarra.
Alex ducked back into the bathroom and slammed the door. “Hello?” he yelled. “Did I use the wrong door? Is this the roto-mall?”
“Sorry, Alex,” shouted Connie through the thin white plastic door. “Mary tried to warn you, but the noise of the shower ...”
Wrapped in a large towel, Alex emerged from the lavatory. “What?” he demanded.
“Commander Stubbs has a plan,” said Tsu. “He wants a meeting.”
Sciarra sat down on a spindly bedroom chair and held up a hand defensively. “Don’t complain to me, Alex. I haven’t had a break since I joined this crew.”
Tony wasn’t exaggerating. As chief radar officer, Sciarra’s services had been required on every leg of the Lalande mission, and his radar modifications had helped make two missions a success. Any other time, Tony would have had Alex’s complete sympathy. But standing half naked in his own bedroom and craving long overdue sex, Alex wasn’t feeling very appreciative. “If you guys would just wait in our com room ... on the OTHER side of the house ...!”
Tsu and Sciarra waited in the foyer downstairs, Tony leaning against one wall sucking on a toothpick while Tsu stood at the window staring thoughtfully at the spring flowers blooming outside. Connie turned as Alex and Mary came down the stairs. Tony straightened up and smiled at Alex. “Sorry for that break-in, Alex,” he said. “The door was ... open.”
“I bet no one closed it last night,” said Mary, looking at Alex scornfully.
Alex sighed. “I was so sleepy I ... anyway, what’s this about?”
“We told you, a meeting,” grumbled Tony. He opened the door and stepped out into the artificial sunshine.
Alex scoffed. “Our briefing last night, the one that couldn’t wait until we all got some sleep, was a waste of time, then?
That was how long ago? Four hours? Now what?”
“You’re preachin’ to the choir, Alex,” said Tony. He studied Alex briefly through his antique sunglasses and grinned.
“Stubbs didn’t want to wake you ’til you had six hours of sleep. It’s been six hours.”
Alex sighed. “Not enough.”
“Boo hoo, Alex,” said Connie. “I had down time inside that egg. Didn’t get any sleep there, either.”
Alex looked the shuttle pilot over. She looked fit enough for a person who’d nearly been cocooned forever on an alien planet. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Do I look okay?”
“Well, of course. I mean ...” Alex shrugged. “You’ve been through hell, Connie. I’d expect ...”
“I’m fine, Alex.” Connie studied his face, clearly sensing disbelief. “I’m fine!” Without further comment, she walked past him out the door. Tony laughed and followed her down the sidewalk.
Mary paused and squinted up at the great cylinder that arched overhead. Alex watched her gray eyes trace details he knew only her augmented eyes could see. “How’re the farms doin’, Mary?” he asked.
“Mrs Rose to you, Mr Rose.” Mary smiled. “Actually...the speedwheat’s being harvested.” She glanced at Alex and grinned. “I’ll bet Johnny’s proud of that. He helped develop it. The Terraformers are introducing a form of it on Mars next year.”
“In greenhouses, I’ll bet,” offered Alex. “Give it another thousand years and you might have real crops there.”
Tony frowned. “Terraforming Mars is an experiment, Alex. Whether it works or not is secondary. Call it an inevitable step to the stars.”
Alex smiled cynically. Tony was spouting the standard corporate argument, but neither Alex nor Mary agreed. To them all that the terraforming effort had produced was cloned slaves in the name of progress.
The corporate justification for cloning held that because ’normal’ humans couldn’t be relied upon to implement the long term effort, clones were essential in making Mars a habitable world. The millennium project, they said, required new and bold steps. The scope of the Martian terraforming effort had mesmerized mankind, and no one objected as armies of specialized humans were created. To help rally support for the effort, some clones were designed as showpieces. Mary was a prime example. There were many kinds, but the Sensors, Mary’s kin, were among the oldest. Living communication devices, their genetic sensory enhancements and cybernetic implants made them invaluable in the colonization of the solar system.
Alex had met the Marys at their compound on Mars and won their approval. It had taken him quite a while to realize why. Now, as he walked down the boulevard toward the circular Master Control building, he knew all those things were now meaningless. All that mattered now was the Goddard, a twelve hundred person microcosm of a solar system eight light years away. Here, in a cylindrical world full of explorers, scientists, experts, and professionals of all disciplines, Alex and Mary weren’t an odd couple, they were central to the mission. Some even called them heroes.
“I guess the meeting’s at town hall as usual?” said Alex, walking briskly down the sidewalk past the boxy two story homes. There was nothing elaborate about them. Most of the apparent detail had been stamped into the prefabricated polyfoam that made up nearly everything on board.
The doors to the circular building slid open as the group approached. “Ladies first,” said Tony. He paused, stepped to the side and bowed graciously.
Tsu walked past Sciarra as though he wasn’t there. “You’re damned right,” she whispered.
2 The big screen dominated one end of the large circular room filled with concentric rows of techies manning consoles. In the center of the room, under the domed holographic projection area, stood Commander Stubbs, talking to Professor Baltadonis and Captain Wysor. Wysor spotted Alex and pointed. After smiles and warm greetings, the Captain indicated a place at the rear of the control room, the official observation post for visitors and the cameras of the ship’s public video system. In a few long strides the gaunt Ganny Captain was next to them. “Coffee’ll be here soon,” he said. “Can ya’ survive?”
“If there’s a sweet roll involved,” Alex answered with a cordial smile.
“Thi’ ain’ the food court a’ Gannytoon, lad,” snapped the Captain, stroking his unruly gray beard. “But we’ll try to cat’r t’ yer needs, best we c’n.”
“How’s the ship holding up?” asked Alex, looking around. “Looks like everybody’s busy.”
The Captain turned and pointed to the screen. “There’s a plan t’ use the sonde sittin’ on that egg to pop the igloo.” He directed them to a group of chairs. A white tabletop slid out from the wall as they approached. An officer arrived with a jug of steaming coffee and a tray of cups and condiments. The brew itself was an approximation of coffee, renewing Alex’s hopes that the cylinder’s greenhouses would eventually be providing the real thing.
Coffee was no small issue for Alex, nor for the 1200 plus members of the Goddard’s crew. Although he knew that fruits, vegetables, and a stable ecosystem were a priority, his sentiments were solidly with those who saw real coffee as a first priority. But he knew that even using the best of growing techniques there wouldn’t be any beans for months. He had to content himself with the brew he described as “an outside shot at something resembling a breakfast drink.” But now Alex picked a foam chair and sat down, his attention focused on the control room screen, not on the steaming drink in his hand.
The image that loomed over the control room was a live feed from the outer shell of Howarth’s egg, but it could have been a still picture, or even an artificial one. The surface the igloo shaped alien construction sat on was smooth, flat, and glowing brightly. Alex had already decided that the structure was an effort to repair the hole his ship Diver had made in their mission to rescue the trapped shuttle Tai Chi. But that was just a guess.
“What are we looking at? It looks the same,” said Mary to the Captain.
He smiled broadly. “Somethin’ afoot,” he said. “Stubbs’ll explain, I’m sure.”
Johnny Baltadonis approached them after helping himself to coffee.
“How are you, this morning, Johnny?” asked Mary. “Homesick for Mars?”
“Aren’t we all?” Johnny wiped away a tear. “Don’t you miss the other Marys?”
“Not at the moment.” Mary shrugged.
Stubbs was last to join the group. He nodded to an aide nearby and a transparent curtain rose from the floor, creating an instant, soundproof enclosure. Stubbs faced the control room with his back to the others inside the glass enclosure, his attention on the main monitor that dominated the far side of the control room. Finally he turned, examining the group one by one, and shook his head in dismay. “That scene hasn’t changed for hours. Our seismic data from the probe tells us something’s going on under that igloo, but we haven’t a clue. We’re learning nothing with those sondes.”
“You said as much last night, Commander.” Mary said. “Nice to know things haven’t changed, I suppose.”
Stubbs turned and looked at Mary. “Collectively, this crew amounts to a city full of experts. These folks are the best Earthcorp could come up with.” His eyes moved to Alex, sitting beside Mary. “Pardon me for venting, Alex.” Stubbs examined Alex’s face. “You know, I didn’t mean to evade your question last night.”
Alex stroked his chin. “You mean about what’s next on the mission plan?”
“Exactly.” Stubbs nodded and faced the control room again. “In a way we have completed our mission, established that there is advanced life, perhaps even a technological civilization on Bubba.” The Commander assumed a military stance with his hands clasped tightly behind his rear. He pointed his chin toward the screen. “They’re sealing the hole under that igloo and we are out in the cold. That sensor is useless.”
“Not altogether,” said Johnny. “Howarth’s egg is an artificial structure. We know that. Like all artificial structures, it must be maintained. If they’re fixing that hole we made, we’ll know it sooner or later.”
Stubbs shook his head solemnly. “While we waited on the surface for you to rescue Tai Chi we saw no activity,” said Stubbs. “Outwardly, it is a shell. The samples we collected proved to be nothing more than hollow silicates, a matrix of gas traps that glow when charged, like neon bulbs.”
“Excuse me, Commander,” said Alex. “You started to talk about what we’ll do next?”
Stubbs frowned and nodded. “I don’t know. Maybe we should return to Earth.”
“What?” Professor Baltadonis’ jaw dropped when he heard his Commander’s words.
“In a way our mission is accomplished,”explained Stubbs. “We know there’s life. That’s what we came to find out. But we don’t know if we can get home again.”
“I’ve been wondering that,” said Connie Tsu. “What will the date be when we get home? Will our families be waiting for us?” She had gotten up and was now standing just a few feet behind him. “Will the gee-pulse engine work any time we want it to?”
Stubbs faced her and smiled. “The man with that answer just went back to his post,” he said, walking to an empty chair.
He sat down carefully, reminding Alex that less than a month earlier the Commander had open heart surgery. Alex watched his old mentor lean back in his chair and take a deep breath. Despite his ailments and the strain of the mission, he still looked fit.
Stubbs’ eyes met Alex’s. “As Commander I have to look at the big picture. Are there opportunities we’re overlooking?
Certainly if there’s business undone here we should do it before we leave, don’t you agree? But, to be honest, Alex, I am eager to know if the gee-pulse will work. Our techies have concerns. But everything looks good.” He looked at the control room. “We won’t know if we’ll get home until we try.” He put his hands on his knees, about to rise.
Alex held up his hand. “Take a few minutes,” he suggested. “Relax. Have a coffee.”
Stubbs smiled appreciatively and leaned back in the foam chair. “Oh, a tea perhaps. You’ll be glad to know that the coffee production is, by all accounts, promising.”
Tony Sciarra was still watching the screen in the control room. Suddenly he sat up straight. “It’s getting smaller!” he shouted, pointing at the screen. “I’ve noticed it a while,” he added. “Thought it was my imagination, but it’s shrinking. I’m sure of it.”
A sudden flurry of activity in the room saved Alex having to ask if it was just a camera zoom. He could now see for himself that the strange igloo wasn’t just getting smaller, it was flattening as well, and starting to glow like the surrounding shell.
“Crystal growth, Commander,” said a voice on the intercom. “Just a guess.”
“Howarth?” said Stubbs, looking into the air. “Are you watching this?”
“Oh, yeah!” Matt Howarth, Alex knew, was in the Biolab. But like everyone aboard, his lab was linked, via the nearest wall monitor, to the control room. “Interesting the egg folk haven’t done something about the probe yet,” he added. “Wonder if they’ve detected it?”
“The bulge will be flat in less than two minutes ... well, one minute fifty one seconds,” said Mary. Everyone looked at her in surprise. She put a finger to her lips. “Sorry, it’s that pesky old calculator in me, I guess.”
“Sounds right,” said Stubbs. “The egg is healing. Soon, there won’t be a mark, I’d wager. Just like the first hole.” He was about to say more when the screen caught his eye. The shrinking had apparently stopped. “Has it stopped?”
“Yes,” said Mary. Everyone looked at her again. “As far as I can see,” she added with a shrug. But it was soon clear to everyone that the bump wasn’t changing, and for the next few minutes everyone, including those in the control room, watched in silence.
Watching the brilliant image was hard on Alex’s eyes. He looked away and noticed Mary gazing wide-eyed at the screen, her genetically enhanced eyes apparently unaffected by the glaring white on white image. Stubbs and Professor Baltadonis had put on dark glasses long ago. Stubbs’ glasses were provided by Johnny, who was carrying an extra pair.
Someone started shouting. “Look, look!”
“There’s a rod. A white rod, rising from the center of the bump,” Mary said.
Alex looked at the screen, squinting painfully. Johnny noticed and reached into his pocket. “Here, Alex, I have a spare set of sunglasses.”
“You do?” Alex looked at the Professor in surprise. “You just gave an extra set to Stubbs.”
Johnny laughed. “I carry three. With three you always have one.”
“If you say so, Johnny,” said Alex. “I’d call that taking preparedness to new heights.”
The glasses proved a bit small but workable. He could see the rod Mary had described. “Thanks, Professor.”
It was a cylindrical tube, rising slowly from the top of the bulge.
Silence again overtook the control room as something rose inside the rod, white and formless, filling the tube like a worm. Reaching the top of the cylindrical pipe, it rose a meter into the air and hung there for a moment, a wobbly white pillar on a glowing white plate.
Responding to a command from someone in the control room, the remote camera began to zoom in, revealing a head-like knob at the top that seemed to be structured of tightly ridged white material. The head began to swell and the ridges began to spread out. It happened slowly at first, but soon the thing blossomed into something resembling a large white flower.
“Like a white carnation in the snow. I guess you’re seeing this okay, or should I …?” Mary hugged Alex’s shoulder.
“I see fine,” said Alex. “What do you think?”
“It’s a scanner of some kind.”
The blossom now pointed directly at the camera. In its center was a black object that seemed to grow larger. Following another command, the camera reversed its zoom in time to see a snaking proboscis extrude from the flower. It writhed in the air for a few seconds, then drew back. All the while the carnation remained fixed in position, pointed directly at the Goddard’s remote camera-sensor module.
“I think we’re in trouble,” said Stubbs, ominously.
“It appears they’ve fixed the hole and included a doorway of some kind. It’s safe to say they just examined one of the two sondes,” offered Johnny. “The one with the cameras. The other sonde is just a locator and it’s not active at the moment.”
“The sonde’s emitting radio waves,” offered Sciarra. “Maybe they hear it.”
Stubbs put out his hand. “Computer,” the Commander said. “Connect to the control room.”
“Ready.”
“Captain Wysor, and the rest of you, watch closely. I think we’ve been noticed. Judging from the short time that thing took to examine our sonde, I’d say it’s fair to assume it can sense the radar. Any thoughts?” Everyone in the control room looked at Stubbs, but there was no response.
“If anything happens ...” he began, but movement on the big screen caused him to stop. The alien blossom began to rotate on its central stalk. “See that? It’s scanning our probe. I’m sure of it.”
“Any bets on how long our probe will last?” asked Johnny, smiling. His response drew a laugh from the control room.
“It’s back,” interrupted Stubbs, pointing at the screen. “Computer, lower these partitions,” he said. The transparent walls lowered instantly and Stubbs went to his station. “Can we send some kind of message in case it’s listening to our scans?” he asked, settling into his chair.
A technician stood up, adjusting the headphone in her curly blonde hair. “Lisa Thompson, comtech B, sir,” she said with a slight bow to the Commander. “We could modulate the sonde’s signal strength. That might get their attention and won’t interfere with its transmission.”
“Good plan. Do it, Lisa,” Stubbs said, never taking his eyes from the screen. “Convert the signal to something we can hear, so we have an idea how it sounds to them.”
“Yes, sir!” said Lisa, her hands already busy at the console as she sat down.
Moments later a wowing sound was heard on the control room speakers and, the strange rotating blossom began to spread its petals wider, apparently in response to the altered signal. Adding to that impression, its outstretched petals began to move back and forth in unison.
Mary smiled. “Like Inky’s ears when he hears something.”
“It’s a dish antenna,” said Tony, finishing off his cup of coffee. “Not so different from a cat’s ear, really.” He took off his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. “Something I’m curious about, Mary,” he said. “On Jupiter, your senses gave us some insights. Here you seem ...”
Mary frowned. “We’re on alien turf, Tony.”
“You sense nothing?” asked Connie, standing nearby listening to the conversation.
“No,” Mary answered. “Why that should be, I don’t know. Maybe it’s simply because the sources are alien.”
The flower on the screen stopped its slow flutter but the sound of the sonde’s oscillations remained unchanged. Stubbs asked Lisa if the signal could be made more interesting to the aliens.
“I don’t see how, Commander,” she replied. “Not without messing up our data stream.”
“I suppose it’s doubtful the alien can hear the data stream itself, correct?” asked Stubbs.
“Doubtful, I guess,” said the girl. She stood up again, out of respect for the Commander.
“You don’t have to stand, Thompson,” said Stubbs, smiling. “Sit down and ... oh, transmit some music to the probe.
Something, anything to hold their interest.”
The techie sat down again. Seconds later the sound of classical music replaced the monotonous signal on the loudspeakers. Everyone’s attention returned to the screen to see what the flower would do. The flower’s petals resumed their oscillation and sporadic applause spread through the control room.
“Good,” shouted the Commander above the music. “Good work.” Lisa didn’t look up from her console, but Alex saw her grinning broadly. “I’m wondering if we might try different types of music,” proposed the Commander. “Maybe rock and roll?”
“Rock and roll?” Johnny looked at Alex and shook his head. “How about just talking to it?”
Alex smiled and whispered. “He’s grasping at straws there, Johnny. Why don’t you help him out?”
Apparently emboldened by Alex’s suggestion, Professor Baltadonis walked over to Stubbs and whispered in his ear. The Commander nodded and turned back to the girl. “Lisa, can you patch voice into it?”
“Of course, sir.” Her fingers worked the console. “Whose microphone?”
“Mine, I suppose,” answered Stubbs. Stubbs looked around and smiled.
“Ready, sir,” said Lisa.
The Commander thought for a second, then spoke. “Greetings from the people of Earth to the people of Lalande. Please pardon our intrusion into your world, but assure you it was not done with hostile intentions.” The Commander continued his dialogue, describing the ship and its mission, but the strange flower’s behavior remained unchanged. Its curving white petals moved slowly back and forth while its central stalk remained rigid.
Alex looked at Mary and whispered skeptically, “I’m sure it’s getting EVERY word.”
She wrinkled her perfect nose at him. “Well, what would YOU say to it?”
Alex shrugged. “I’d keep playing music.”
Mary nodded, as she studied the image on the viewscreen. “Well, at least it’s still listening.”
3 When the Commander finished his ‘greetings from Earth’ speech it was followed by sporadic applause from some of the staff.
Stubbs raised his arms, smiling. “I’m sure all of you realize that this was hardly a scientific exercise. And I scarcely think my words were understood.” He glanced at the screen. “But, as we can see, our carnation hasn’t lost interest. At least it’s still there and its vanes are still oscillating.” Stubbs cleared his throat. “We still have the sonde and we still have that thing’s attention. The question is, what do we do about it?”
Something had been bothering Alex and now he realized what it was. He stood up and raised his hand.
“Yes, Alex?” said Stubbs.
“Are there microphones aboard that probe?”
Stubbs looked around. “Microphones? I suppose...”
“I’m wondering if that thing is making noises,” explained Alex. “And if we could listen to it.”
“Does anyone have an answer?” The Commander searched the blank faces around him.
A male voice spoke up weakly from the rear of the control room. “We’re checking, sir.”
“Raise your hand. Name, please?” demanded Stubbs, squinting in the direction of the voice.
A young man with slick black hair tied in a ponytail stood up. He was wearing a partial helmet whose wires snagged on his desk as tried to stand. He removed the headset and tossed it on his console. “Wiggins, sir. Audio engineering. The sonde you left on the egg is a Fulmer A12. They’re equipped for full spectrum detection. Some of the A12s don’t, since they left off the sound sensors because, well, the moons don’t have air and …”
“Can you activate the microphone, Wiggins?”
“Well, yes ... certainly, sir. I mean, I’m on it.” The man vanished behind his console. “I’ll patch in the sound as soon as it’s linked.”
“That was a good suggestion,” said Stubbs, looking back at Alex.
Alex’s suggestion wasn’t really inspiration. Since discovering the reef of life in Jupiter’s Great Red Spot and visiting it three times, he had come to appreciate how much sound played a part in its ecology. Why should it be any different with Bubba’s creatures?
Mary cocked her ear toward the speaker. “He won’t like this.”
“What?” said Alex.
Suddenly the room filled with the abrasive sound of radio static. “That!” shouted Mary.
Wiggins scrambled to lower the volume. “I’m sorry, Commander,” said the technician, “I should have expected the static would be loud.”
Stubbs looked at Wiggins in surprise. “Why’s that?”
“There’s a vibration in that glowing stuff. It’s caused by a charge of some kind. The sonde is insulated from the charge but the vibration is picked up through the microphone.”
“Can you phase it out?” asked Sciarra, standing up. “Mask the frequency?”
The technician was quiet for a moment, while he worked his console. “Okay,” he finally said. “Let’s try that again.”
Mary heard the sound first. Alex could tell because she cocked an ear toward the loudspeaker above them. Soon everyone heard it.
“That sounds like the whistling of wind,” said Commander Stubbs. “Am I right?”
“Sounds like it t’ me,” answered Captain Wysor. “Wind in th’ pickup. Can ya’ filter the wind, too?”
“Negative, sir.” Wiggins stood up to see the Captain. “Wind is white noise ... all frequencies.”
“I can,” said Mary quietly.
Alex frowned. “Really? Do you hear anything?”
“Clicking.”
Alex’s eyes widened. “You mean like the clicker men on Jupiter?”
“More complex than that. Chirps more than clicks, really. Can anyone else hear them?”
By now the Commander had heard Mary and his interest were piqued. “Did I hear you correctly, Mary?”
Mary nodded. “Sound analysis can pick it up. It’s almost completely masked by the wind. That’s why you can’t hear it. It sounds like birds, sort of.”
Still looming on the control room’s huge rectangular screen was the alien flower. Its petaled head, nearly as white as its surroundings, remained bowed in the direction of the distant camera. “What’s the wind speed down there?” asked Professor Baltadonis.
A technician shouted out, “Sixty to seventy knots, sir. Fairly steady.”
Stubbs stood again, facing the screen. “It that thing upwind or downwind of the probe?”
There was mumbling among the crew, then one of them stood and faced the Commander. “Neither, sir,” said the man.
“It’s a fifteen degree cross wind.”
Johnny nodded. Taking out a small datastrator he began to draw a crude diagram for himself. “I don’t see how the flower can hear anything in that gale,” he concluded after studying it for a while. “There’s a cross wind, so smell can be ruled out.”
He smiled at Alex. “And gale force winds would pretty much obscure any polka music.”
Alex shrugged. “If Mary can hear that thing, then there’s a possibility they can hear us.”
Stubbs looked skeptical. “Well, we’ll have to analyze it.”
Wysor shook his head and stood up. “If ya’ won’ be needing this useless sack o’ bone, I’ll walks to the head. So how much longer will this show be playin’?”
Standing like an instructor at a chalkboard, Stubbs turned and smiled. “As long as it takes. We have to consider what all this means and what Earthcorp would have us do.”
Wysor took off his sunglasses, squinted at the screen, and chuckled cynically. “There’s no one out ’ere, c’mmander, just us. That’s ’less yer countin’ th’ cold ... or them aliens.” With that the Captain left the room.
Alex smiled. Wysor was a man of action. It had been over an hour since the flower first showed itself on the surface of the egg, and nothing had changed for a while. As Captain Wysor left Alex adjusted his dark glasses and sat back. It was still early in the day, but his instincts and his nostalgia for Ganymede had Alex wondering if he might steal away with the Captain for a brew. “Sounds like the Captain could use some company,” he said to Mary, as he started to rise from his seat. Mary put a hand on his leg and shook her head. “Stuff will happen soon,” she said, “and you should be here to watch.”
Alex sat back in the seat and looked at the black ceiling.
Not far from where Alex and Mary now sat was Lake Geneva. The lake and its peninsula park were the showplace of the biocylinder. At the moment Alex had seen too much of the alien world they orbited. Now, all he wanted to do was to walk by the lake with Mary and then take her home and make love to her. He wondered if Mary was having similar thoughts.
“You can wait a few more hours,” said Mary almost in a whisper.
“Dingers,” said Alex, as quietly as he could. “Try to answer only the questions I actually ask.”
Mary blinked her long eyelashes innocently. “Sorry.”
Alex put on his dark glasses and resumed the vigil with the rest of the crew. The flower was still there, but now he noticed a change. Earlier its petals had been fanning the air, rocking back and forth steadily and rhythmically, as if vectoring on the probe a few hundred meters away. Now the flutter seemed out of sync, almost random. The flower folded its petals and withdrew slowly into the tube from which it had unfurled. It gathered itself into a tight ball and slid slowly down the tube, moving in quick spasms. It took a minute or more to sink out of sight.
When it was gone everyone in the control room sat wordlessly, waiting for more, for something else to come oozing from the hole, or for creatures to come spilling out. But when a half hour had passed and nothing happened, Alex took off his dark glasses. He surveyed the control room and noticed Mary looking at him thoughtfully. “Was that what you expected to happen?” he asked.
“I sensed something more, but I guess ...”
Alex noticed that Commander Stubbs, seated at his console, was about to put on a virtual helmet. “Commander,” Alex hurried over to him. “Before you put that on ...”
“Yes?” Stubbs stared blankly at Alex.
Alex could see that Stubbs was tired, so he didn’t mince words. “Do you intend for us to sit and watch that pipe in the ground ’til we’re blind, sir?”
Stubbs laughed, albeit painfully. “Alex, you’re not here under orders. I thought you’d be interested in the developments.”
“All this is fascinating, sir. But I’m a pilot, sir. Like the Captain.” He pointed to Wysor’s empty seat. “Hands on, if you know what I mean. I’ve seen enough of the aliens for the moment.” He looked at the screen. The sonde’s camera was now focused tightly on the opening where the flower had disappeared. The image had been enhanced and darkened so it was easier to see. Now the camera was tracking across the glassy surface. The material looked like it was made of smoke, almost invisible. But when the camera pulled back it looked like a piece of ordinary polyglas.
“Alex, this is interesting stuff,” said Stubbs. “I thought you’d want to watch. It’s good to have your input, as well.”
Alex looked back at Mary. “You’ll never have to ask twice for my input,” he said with a laugh. “If you doubt me, ask her.
But at the moment, I don’t have much to offer. If we’re not needed, Mary and I would really like some time off. And with all due respect, Commander, you could use some sleep yourself.”
Stubbs smiled. “The ticker’s strong, Alex. And I can’t miss any of the action. You know that.”
Mary got up and stretched her lithe frame, then walked over to join Alex and the Commander. “Going swimming with the dolphin crew again, Mary?” asked Stubbs.
“That wasn’t at the top of my list,” she said, nodding politely.
Alex looked at Tony, Connie, and the Professor, all wearing dark glasses and seated in the lounge staring intently at the screen. “Tony?” he inquired. “Were you serious about the flying the ultralights?”
Tony took off his glasses and squinted at Alex. “They asked me to bring you, Rose. There’s a new ship they want you to try out.”
“Shouldn’t you start out with an older ultralight, Alex?” asked Mary. “Something tried and true?”
Tony laughed and put his glasses back on. “No such animal aboard, Mary.” As he faced the screen, he jabbed a finger in Alex’s direction. “Seven tonight in the hub lounge. The Merlin is booked in your name.”
Alex nodded to Tony and the Commander as he and Mary made their exit. Outside, the central lighting column had reached its full midday brightness. He squinted into the sky, trying to see the ultralight hangar. “Dingers, I can’t even see the hub lounge up there.”
Alex knew there would be no ultralights flying the cylindrical skies until the lights were turned down, or even off.
Sciarra had told him that night flying, which brought with it interesting thermals and less vertigo, was favored by all the pilots. He was rated as an expert pilot, but the thought of diving out of the hangar at the gravity free hub of a mighty wheel gave him second thoughts. He squinted and shielded his eyes, but the air was hazy from the recent artificial rain.
“We don’t have to climb it, you know. Just tell the cab,” Mary skipped ahead of Alex, pointing to a grove of lush oak trees. “Look Alex, the squirrels are screwing!” She turned to face him and smiled. “Last one into bed is a happy man,” she giggled, and ran at top speed toward their house.