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Chapter 2

1 Alex was still asleep as Mary slipped, naked, from the bed and ducked into the steamer. Rather than wake him, she ordered a double helping of Morimoto Duck from the food dispenser in hopes that the smell would arouse him. She was standing at the window, partially behind a curtain, when Alex sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Are you cooking?” he asked.

Mary turned and smiled. “Three times in a row is a record for you, Alex.”

Alex looked at his withered member under the sheet. “I think it’s dead,” he said mournfully.

“We’ll check into that issue a bit later. Don’t you want to eat before you go ultralighting?” Mary pointed upward. “It’s six o’clock.”

Alex flopped back into the pillows and moaned. “What was I thinking?”

“I know,” Mary said mischievously. “You’ve become deflated. Inflating is the order of the day, Alex. I can fix that.” She dove under the sheet and buried her head in Alex’s lap.

Alex stared wide-eyed at the white dome over the bed. Suddenly it sprang to life with an instructional recording.

“ULTRALIGHT AIRCRAFT OPERATIONAL HAZARDS,” read the bright white letters as they scrolled across the darkened screen.

“Dingers,” said Alex. “Forgot I ordered that.”

The pleasure Mary was giving him suddenly stopped. Mary’s head, still under the sheet, popped up. “Ordered what?”

She scrambled out from under the sheet and looked up at him. Her perfect lips were wet and so inviting. Mary rolled over on her back and watched the dome as the program, taken from a pilot’s helmet camera, took them out of the hanger and out into the weightless hub of the cylinder. Above them was the central column that housed the gee-pulse core and the solar trenches that lit the interior.

“Boring!” she proclaimed as she disappeared again under the sheet.

2 “What do you mean, a hundred credits?” Connie Tsu shouted at the hangar chief. “What’s this, a fluid economy?”

The man arguing with Connie was hanging from a personnel cable while holding on tightly to another cable attached to an ultralight. The sleek black flyer looked ready to fly as it floated in the weightless ultralight hangar at the ‘northern’ hub of the great rotating biocylinder.

“Until we start gathering hydrogen, it has to be rationed. No unscheduled flights,” he argued, the ultralight’s tail fin in a vice grip. “The price is up for now.”

Wearing jet packs, Alex and Mary floated into the hangar in time to overhear this. Alex couldn’t help laughing. “Did she say Cretaceous?” he asked, grinning at Mary.

“At least she didn’t call him Jurassic,” muttered Mary, smiling back at him as she looked around at the hangar. “That would be bad.”

Several folded ultralights of different colors were secured to the white netted walls by cables. Sciarra, also wearing a jet pack, floated into view carrying a propeller. When he saw Alex, Tony propelled himself toward them. “Damn, you made it,” he shouted in disbelief. He handed the propeller to a boy who floated next to a partially dismantled flyer. Sciarra grabbed the boy’s coverall strap as he turned to leave. “Remember. Green side forward,” he said sternly. The boy nodded and moved off to join two others who were crouched working on the other side of the plane. “Ya gotta build ’em right before ya can fly ’em right,” Tony said, looking at Alex. “Right?”

Connie saw Alex and Mary enter and moved quickly to join them. She was dressed in jet black leatherskins with a red minicap covering her short black hair. “Alex,” she said, “They’re robbers.”

Alex held up his hand. “Hey, I’m no authority here, Connie!”

“Deal with it later,” said Tony, impatiently. “We’re on a schedule here. Yours is over there. The one marked Merlin.”

Alex shrugged at Tsu and slapped Tony on the shoulder. “I’m ready!”

The plane was jet black and hidden among the other ultralights, but the name Merlin in electric blue glitterite stood out boldly. “It’s the first of the ramjets. She can fly all day,” said Tony with delight. He floated over to the plane and pulled it free from its holding rack. He grabbed a lever on its rumpled fuselage. “Stand back a bit,” warned Sciarra. “She’s got a meter more wing than the rest. Snaps out quick.” Tony yanked the lever and the plane unfolded quickly, accompanied by the whine of a small motor.

The body of the ultralight telescoped fore and aft, while the wings, made of softer material, inflated. Except for its markings, the ultralight’s taut black skin reflected almost no light. As the thing unfolded before Alex’s appreciative gaze, Tony boasted that he’d helped develop the design for use by Goddard’s security force.

The Merlin seated only one person, which disappointed Alex. He’d hoped that Mary could join him on the ultralight’s maiden flight.

An observation lounge with a bar was connected to the hangar, with a large window that looked out on the interior of the biocylinder. Each end of the three kilometer long structure had several such bars. One, Clavius, had been built at the lunar gravity level of the wheel, while another, Isidium, was at the Mars gee level. But the most popular site was the observation lounge where Mary found a good location to watch Alex’s flight and a menu that served real Martian ice drinks. Or so Alex learned when he switched on his helmet’s radio as he slipped into the Merlin’s tiny cockpit.

“They gave me a radio set, so I can talk to you,” Mary announced.

“Great,” replied Alex as he strapped on a chute-pack and settled into his seat. The ramjets had reached drive temperature, but it took a while to get flight clearance because his craft was new and required special monitoring procedures.

“They just don’t want it farting up the air,” explained Tony while they waited at the open hangar entrance, a rectangle perhaps ten meters wide and three meters tall. It had a complex sliding door that could open wider if necessary, but currently it was set for a limited number of takeoffs and landings.

It was dusk in the biocylinder and the strip lights were approximating the ethereal hue of a sunset. Finally, the word was given and the Merlin was launched with a simple shove administered by Tony and an attendant. As his ultralight floated weightlessly into open space, Alex looked for Mary at the window. “I’m waving,” he heard her say inside his helmet. “Can you see me?”

Alex couldn’t see her, but pretended to, and waved. “Here I go, Mary,” he shouted, confident that her eyes were on him.

As his tiny aircraft drifted out of the hangar, he felt like a gnat lifting weightlessly from the surface of a vast curving plate.

Moving farther from the hangar doors he glanced from side to side, marveling at the striations in the arching hub wall, indicating different floors and gravities. Seeing it from this vantage point, Alex was once again awed by the scale of the Goddard and the effort and cost that had gone into building it.

Studying the different levels, he could see that some were dark, while others were lighted in various ways. Some bore the steady glow of occupied buildings, and others twinkled with the arclight sparking of construction zones. These seemed to be clustered around the hub where gravity was at a minimum. The mid-levels at both ends of the cylinder were dark, empty superstructure. Suitable for development, he thought.

In a great ring around the rim of the biocylinder hubs, where gravity was at normal levels, were the places he and Mary had often visited, brightly lit entertainment centers and malls, with their large picture windows offering scenic views. Now the glow of those multicolored lights was beginning to spread out over the landscape at both ends of the great cylinder.

Despite the helmet, Alex could hear wind rustling the gossamer membrane covering the wings. His aircraft was still drifting slowly, gliding without power about a hundred meters off the hangar bay. Everything seemed trim enough, so he relaxed and let the air currents tug at his aircraft. The cooling of the lights in the central core was causing thermal eddies, and as the Merlin got farther from the wall their influence began to make it drift.

Above his head the long gray column searchlights were switching on to illuminate locations on the surface that required extended light. Some of the bigger lights were trained on farmland. One was lighting a village square where he could see people involved in a game of X-ball, and several others were trained on a golf course and ball field at the end of Lake Geneva.

Suddenly, on his helmet radio, Alex heard the voice of Connie Tsu. “This’s better than Bubba, isn’t it, Alex?”

“Hi, Connie,” he said. “You’re up, I see! What was that guy dingin’ you about the price for?”

There was a moment of silence, then, “Later, Alex. Look behind you.”

Tsu was right on his tail. A second glance caught Connie’s grinning face though her tiny wrap-around cockpit window.

“No games, now, Connie,” he cautioned. “I’m on a test flight, here.”

“I can see you, Connie,” said Mary’s voice. There was the sound of Mary fumbling with her helmet, then Mary spoke again. “That’s better. A woman sat on my radio pack.”

“Starting to lose altitude, Mary. Time to light her up,” said Alex as he lifted a switch on the dash that engaged the ramjets.

Their effect was instant as the tiny plane jumped forward. Alex pulled back on the stick and the Merlin did a quick loop, ending up behind Tsu’s ultralight. Lifting the right wing slightly, he throttled up and passed her. He smiled broadly, enjoying the ride, as the ramjet warmed and gobbled more air and fuel. Finally both jets reached optimal thrust and a light went green on the meager console. “I got a green light here. I’ll take it to mean the rams are workin’ fine. I’m lit real good, eh’ Tsu?” He didn’t have to look over his shoulder to know he had already left Tsu far behind.

“I’ll say,” muttered Connie. “Look at ’m go, folks. A man with a new toy!”

“Yeah, yeah ...” Seeing clear air ahead, Alex decided to see how fast the Merlin would go. He heard a rumble as he throttled up and saw the details of the huge central column begin to move by quickly. “Dingers,” he said through clenched teeth as his head snapped back.

“How fast?” asked Mary. “Don’t tell me ... eighty-four point ...”

Glancing side to side Alex saw sharp points of blue flame trailing each wing jet. Because of the weightlessness, the tiny ship was behaving more like a space bike than an ultralight, but as his speed increased so did the feeling of flight.

He began to notice details on the other end of the cylinder. “The Merlin’s doin’ fine, so far,” he announced to whoever was listening. “I could use more room in this cabin. But the ramjets are workin’ fine.”

“Just enjoy it, Alex,” advised Mary. “Quit the mission talk.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Off to his right Alex noticed Lake Geneva. On the peninsula that divided the lake was a lighted emergency landing strip. Tony had told him to note its position and use it as a point of reference in case the Merlin failed. But so far it was running smoothly. He noticed a switch on the dash near the throttle. The glowing text above it read MUTE

MODE. He switched it to ‘off’ and instantly the roar of the ramjets ceased.

Behind the rush of the wind, Alex heard music. Somewhere below, many voices were singing. Almost as soon as he noticed it, the music was gone. He had heard it said that there were places in the cylinder where sounds bounce or gather in odd ways. In fact, Goddard’s engineers had built two areas for conferences that could be heard by two audiences on opposite sides of the cylinder. He put the ship into a left bank and headed to where he guessed the music had come from.

Suddenly his wrist communicator spoke. Its computer voice, geared for clarity, not quality, chirped in his ear. “Alert ... as you dive gravity will increase. Be prepared for early roll-out. ”

Alex blinked. He’d been told of the danger. An ultralight moving from the weightless hub toward the cylinder wall will experience increasing gravity. He cut the throttle immediately and brought the Merlin’s nose up a bit.

“Air brakes ... press heel lever,” reminded the tiny voice.

“Yes, mother,” groaned Alex.

“It’s like having me along, isn’t it, Alex?” said Mary’s voice. “I think I can help you with your music. Go left.”

Soon he was able to hear music, and then words: “... we come on the ship they called the Mayflower ... we come on the ship that sailed the moon ... we come at the age’s most uncertain hour ... and sing an American tune ...”

He smiled. “Recognize it, Mary?”

“Bah!” interrupted Tsu. “Sapdrippin’ Ameriganda!”

“Shheeesh,” said Alex. “It’s just a song.”

“Earther,” hissed Tsu.

“He’s no Earther,” said Mary. “Trust me.”

The Merlin swooped just above a grove of trees arranged in rows, lit by a spotlight from above. Alex pulled back the steering column and the ship responded perfectly, leveling out a respectable distance above the ground. He squinted at the other gauges on the dash. It was hard to read them in the cramped cockpit while keeping his attention focused outside.

In a clearing beyond the trees he saw a circle of people seated by a fountain. They waved up at him as the Merlin flew by, but before he could return the gesture they were far behind him, lost in the darkness behind more trees.

Alex realized he was flying against the spin of the cylinder, which amounted to a permanent climb. So he banked the ship 90° to the right and noticed the change immediately because he had to dip the nose. “It’s confusing flyin’ in a spinning bottle, isn’t it, Tsu?” He searched the skies but didn’t see Tsu’s ultralight.

“That’s why I’m holding altitude,” replied Tsu, a cynical tone in her voice. “It’s my maiden flight, too. I’m not taking chances.”

Suddenly streaks of light spilled upwards from behind a line of trees, showering the Merlin with white hot sparks.

“Dingers,” cried Alex. “What the hell is going on?” A glowing spark hit the fuselage and bounced off harmlessly, but another hit his wing. Instinctively he banked his ship away from the area, but found the ground coming up quickly because of the curvature of the landscape. He learned then why most of the ultralights stayed well away from the surface. He gunned the engines, aiming the Merlin’s nose toward the central column.

“Alex, are you okay?” Mary asked, sounding alarmed.

He glanced at the wing. “A clean hole, fist sized, in my left wing.” He looked back over his right shoulder in time to see more fireworks arcing into the air. “What’s going on? Are they tryin’ to shoot me down? Why the artillery?”

“It looks like fireworks,” said Mary. “They should have warned you.”

Alex’s wrist spoke to him again. “Fireworks are illegal aboard Goddard .”

“Then it was anti-aircraft fire, I guess,” he muttered. Now at a safer altitude, he looked again at the ragged hole in Merlin’s wing. “I’m okay, I guess, Mary,” he offered. “It’s a good sized hole, but there’s a lot of wing left. She still handles okay.”

“Captain Rose... your complaint has been noted. Security officers dispatched.”

“Well,” said Alex, as he held Merlin in a slow climb. “I hope you hang the bastards.”

“Captain Rose... hanging is an outlawed form of punishment.”

Alex didn’t respond. He was beginning to find the computer’s comments annoying. The Merlin had climbed to the altitude where the other ultralights were flying. He counted four moving slowly in the breezes generated by the spin of the cylinder.

When Johnny had heard that Alex was planning to fly an ultralight, he had made a point of explaining the dynamics of the cylinder’s atmosphere. He’d mentioned that the engineers were concerned with the potential for storms within the cylinder. Some of them had even made plans for dealing with ‘tornado damage’. But the winds seemed mild, and so far Alex had encountered only human hazards. He glanced at the territory around him, now safely at a distance. He spotted two other ultralights. One was black and headed his way. “You’re right, Connie,” he said. “I should have read the manual a bit closer.”

“That’s a roger,” replied Tsu. “I see you now, Alex, headed toward me. Are you going to pull some stunt?”

“As soon as you get in range, Tsu,” Alex replied, trying to sound threatening.

Approaching the central column, Alex took Merlin into a slow roll. In the lower gravity the action was almost too easy.

Midway through the roll Alex noticed a gathering of lights on the peninsula that divided Lake Geneva. At first glance it looked like a crowd carrying torches.

While he was squinted at the dark landscape trying to make sense of what he saw, Tsu’s plane passed a few meters below. For a moment Tsu’s flashing dark eyes were looking up at him and he clearly had the impression of an obscene hand gesture.

For a craft driven by traditional propellers Tsu’s ultralight was fast. Alex was headed in the same direction as Tsu, so he applied full thrust and his neck creaked as his head hit the back of his seat cage. He overtook Connie in seconds, then cut back the power to match her speed. “What was that for, Tsu? Still worried about the bill?” He rolled the Merlin to see Connie in her own aerial cage.

Connie blinked. She pulled her aircraft away from his, gaining altitude as she banked into a turn. He waited for a response, but she didn’t say more. He watched as her ultralight faded into the darkness toward the Hub hangar opening. Alex scratched his head. A group of ultralights buzzed him, lights blazing in his eyes. “Watch it, boys,” he said. “It’s dark in here.

Are you trying to blind me?”

The central column’s lighting was now dim as moonlight, but it was early in the Goddard’s evening and the place was full of lights. “Sorry, sir,” said a voice on his intercom. “Security OP one and two. Normal patrol check.”

Alex watched dubiously as the two planes trained their lights on him. “Did I just say something about blinding me?” he protested.

“A black aircraft like that should be burning more than running lights, sir,” the voice replied. “Are your floods on?”

“I’m not landing,” Alex said tersely.

“Yes, you are. The laser concert is beginning in half an hour. That means no airstrip and blinding lasers.”

“Can’t hold up the show,” replied Alex, trying to sound congenial in spite of the spotlight in his eyes. “If you ... enforcers would take that floodlight off me I might be able to find my way back to hangar.”

Without a word the lights blinked out and the two ultralights sped away, burning ramjets like the Merlin. Alex looked around the great artificial sky one last time, and then aimed his plane toward the distant hub. Pushing the throttle forward he said, “Did you catch all that, Mary?” uncertain if she was still wearing her VR helmet.

“The darker it got the less I could see,” she said. “So I ordered a drink. Sitting in a bar wearing this silly helmet isn’t really my style. See you in the hangar.”

It wasn’t easy for Alex to picture Mary sitting crosslegged in a bar, sporting a bubble on her head, even though others at the bar were similarly plugged in to various aviators. He counted himself lucky she’d worn it this long. “Sorry you had to wear that headgear, my love,” he added, sounding sympathetic as possible. But the only answer was an earful of empty static.

3 Mary caught a look at herself in the mirror and sighed. Her white hair was now down to her shoulders. It looked great to Alex, but she ignored him when he said so. “Maybe I’ll just wear a hat,” she said.

“Dingers, Mary, your hair is perfect, even in the shower.” She shot him a dangerous look and retreated to the bathroom.

A moment later he heard her throw up. He knocked gently at the door. “Mary? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” Her reply was muffled and unconvincing.

“People don’t splaff when they’re fine, Mary.” She coughed a few times, then he heard her brushing her teeth. The commode flushed and the door opened. She stepped out looking unflapped but whiter than usual.

“Maybe it’s those implants,” suggested Alex, trying not to sound alarmed.

“Maybe it’s the food,” snapped Mary as she walked briskly into the hallway. He heard the front door open and close.

By the time he reached the front yard, she was already sprinting toward the lake. He left the yard and walked to the park across the way. He watched a gray squirrel up in the soft green light among the leaves. The animal saw him watching it and stopped, clinging to the underside of a large limb, its tail fluttering nervously. It began to make scolding sounds and hid from his gaze.

“Dingers,” said Alex, walking on. “Is it ME?”

There was a sweet smell in the air. Alex followed his nose to a row of bushes with white blossoms. He drank in the aroma for a moment before continuing his walk. This was the first time he had just strolled alone inside the great cylinder. He enjoyed the freedom of it. For months, it seemed, he had been on duty. This morning there was no meeting, no review of exploratory strategy. There was only the day. Or so he told himself.

Alex began to whistle the tune he’d heard during his flight and for a long while all he did was walk. He must have covered a kilometer, heading in a direction roughly parallel to Lake Geneva, when he came upon a row of greenhouses lining the edge of a large cultivated field. A road, a dark foam strip a few meters wide, paralleled the greenhouses and led directly to the lake. Thinking Mary might be there, he decided to follow it.

Finally he found himself sitting alone on a jetty gazing into the water. It was there that he realized that Mary had never left his mind. There was no way he could put her trials aside, even if she wanted him to.

“Maaary seee a doctorrr,” said a high voice from direction of the water.

Alex looked at the waves and noticed a line of bubbles approaching the shore. Soon the torpedo shaped shadow of a dolphin broke the surface near the place was sitting. “Hi ... I’ss Peeet,” it said. The animal was treading water, holding its head above the waves, as it looked Alex over. “I talked to Maaary,” it continued. “Sheee’sss a good swimmer ... for a perrson.

You a laaand lubberrr, Alexxx?” His speech was raspy and high pitched, but easily understood.

“I can swim.” Alex said defensively.

“Stilll ... yooo dooon’t.” The dolphin splashed its fin as if to punctuate his statement.

“So what?” Alex stood up so he could see better into the water, but the glare of the overhead light was still there, glittering all around the dolphin. “And what did you mean about Mary?”

“I said cleeearly enough.” The dolphin disappeared with a splash, then emerged and said. “Swimming, weee seee you better. Seee you insiiide.”

“What about Mary? Have you ... seen her?”

Suddenly another dolphin poked its head up beside the first. “Alexxx,” it said, examining Alex with a large friendly eye.

“Sid here.” The second dolphin was identical to the first, except its voice was lower in pitch.

“You both know my name. Have we met?” asked Alex, trying to act at ease.

“Of courssse,” said the dolphin, with what seemed to be a smile. “Everyone knows yooou and Maryyy. You were in waaater at the jettyyy.” The animal turned and pointed a flipper toward the other side of the lake. “Reeememberrr?”

“What isss a Sensorrr?” asked Pete. “Maryyy said she wasss one.”

“A cloned human. Specialized for deep space communication. What’s wrong with Mary?” Alex was growing impatient.

The dolphins were gazing back at him, but he found it impossible to see any expression in their faces, other than an enigmatic smile. The one named Sid looked at Pete and swam a few feet closer to Alex. When he reached shallow water he examined the shoreline, then looked at Alex again. “We e seee insiiide. Marrryy nott siiick, but sheee should seee a doctorrr. What wrong not forrr meee to saaay.”

Alex thought for a second. “Is it life threatening? Is it ... urgent?”

The dolphin approximated a laugh. “Not for meee to saaay.”

Alex frowned and looked in the direction of his house. It wasn’t visible at all. He guessed he’d walked a kilometer or so, maybe more, but he knew the network of tubeways could provide ready transport if he needed it.

Neither dolphin seemed too concerned about Mary, yet they were advocating that she see a physician. Sid leapt in the water and resurfaced quickly. Seeing it had Alex’s attention again, it spoke: “Caan I asssk yooou a quessstionn?”

Alex nodded. He had no idea if he should be running to a tubecar or playing diplomat with a dolphin. His only aim had been a brief walk.

“Whaaat dooo yooou think iss down therrre?” The dolphin said. “Onnn Bubbaaa.”

“It’s an old civilization. Stubbs suspects they’re beyond space travel.”

“Arrre they cliiickerrr mennn?”

“We saw spiders. Worms. Something like Jupiter’s reef ... with gas bags and all. But no clicks.” He remembered the pair of clicker men taken along on the rescue mission and felt somehow guilty that they had been lost. Alex looked at Sid. “No,” he said. “Not like the clicker men.”

In the sky to his left Alex saw a flash. Then a streak of yellow light, followed by a shower of debris. Something cut a straight line though the core of the cylinder, moving fast. Alex saw it smash into his side of the cylinder. Moments later he heard the crash and the roar of the impact.

“Dingers!” He began to run in the direction of the impact. His eyes were in the sky but his mind was on Mary, afraid that she was somewhere near the impact site.

4 Alex wasn’t really conscious of running. Nor did he ever look back to see the reactions of the dolphins to what had happened.

He could see that the core and its lights were still intact, and in its glow the debris left by the object did a curious dance. A cloud was forming at the core and debris rained down on both sides of the cylinder.

At first Alex thought it was a dinger, a slang expression for a spacer’s greatest fear – meteorites, but he knew that only a large meteor could penetrate the tough polyceramic hide of the Goddard and then plow through seven decks of polycarbonate web and aerogel matting. Anything that could get through all that should have destroyed the ship or at least caused major decompression. But neither had occurred.

Alex was growing exhausted. By the time he could see smoke rising from where the projectile had impacted, his gait had slowed to a trot. He asked his wrist monitor for a status check, but it was as dead as any ordinary bracelet. He considered using the tubeway system, but without his communicator he couldn’t call for a cab. All he could do was keep moving toward home and the safety of the bedroom pod. He wondered if Mary was already there.

It took several more minutes to reach a place where he could see where the projectile had landed. The crater lay in the park across from his house. Covering an area of a dozen meters or so, long slabs of material lay twisted off kilter, sloping down to a common point. At the center sat a pitch black sphere.

People were already milling about the edge of the crater, cautiously stepping over felled saplings and ruined shrubbery.

Blue suited security officers had arrived wearing helmets. Alex noticed that they were carrying weapons, but their job, it seemed, was merely to keep people away from the hole. Several vehicles appeared from the direction of the command center, full of personnel wearing the same headgear as the officers already at the site. They, too, carried weapons.

When Alex reached the crater, a tall officer walked over to him, reached into a pack, and pulled out a smaller version of the headgear he was wearing. “’re ’tis, Alex,” he said. “Put ’er on.” Though muffled by the headgear, Alex recognized the voice as Captain Wysor’s.

“Dingers, Cap’,” said Alex, still out of breath, “What’s the deal?”

“Save yer oxygen, Alex, an’ pu’ this on ya’ now,” insisted Wysor, his beard moving beneath the mask. “This might be an attack o’ some kin’.”

Alex took the gear and slipped it on over his head. To his surprise the helmet’s microelectronics approximated normal vision. A further ability, realized as soon as he looked at the Captain, was that it allowed him to see into the other helmets.

“This is amazing,” he said. “I can see your face, cap’. Does everyone have one of these?”

“Polarized int’ference glass ... only fo’ th’ crew, lad,” said Wysor, looking at the sky.

A few more vehicles arrived with more men and guns. Almost simultaneously Alex’s wrist bracelet came alive. “Status check,” it said, then fell silent. But he hardly noticed; his attention was on the black sphere.

“Whatcha’ make of it, lad?” asked Wysor.

“I was going to ask you, sir,” replied Alex. The Captain was still examining the far wall of the cylinder. Looking past the glaring lights of the core column, Alex could see a plume of gray smoke. “Did it punch through from space?”

“That’s th’ word.” The Captain looked at Alex and then at the black sphere, still seated implacably in the crater of its own making. “We’ve been shot.”

“Shot.” Alex studied the glassy black object. The Captain’s statement made him see it with new eyes. He compared it mentally to every bullet or bomb image he’d ever seen, but despite its ominous entrance the thing looked benign, almost beautiful.

Someone ran up to Alex from behind. He recognized the light rhythmic steps of his wife seconds before Mary’s arms wrapped around him. “Oh ... I was looking everywhere ...” she breathed into his helmeted ear. “Can you hear me in there?”

Mary tapped her knuckles on his faceplate. “Why are you all wearing those? Are we being gassed?”

The Captain managed to scare up another helmet for Mary. Like Alex, once properly suited, she found the experience less than claustrophobic. “These helmets are amazing,” she said.

Alex faced Mary and hugged her. “Your dolphin friends said ...” But Mary grabbed the Captain’s arm and began asking questions about the sphere, full of curiosity and excitement.

Only a few more minutes transpired before Stubbs and an entourage of officials arrived at the scene. By then Alex and Mary had been told what had happened.

It had come out of nowhere, unseen by Goddard’s sensors. An oblong jet black object had hit the ship at a relatively low speed. The impact was barely felt and did no damage, but then the object fired a black projectile through the hull. There was 20 no loss of air because the original object remained fixed to the hull providing a perfect, if ugly, seal. Stubbs told Alex and Mary that it looked like a blob of engine grease flattened against the hull.

Inside the ship, the damage was more difficult to assess. Reports were coming in to Stubbs and Captain Wysor level by level and room by room. So far few casualties had been reported, none of them fatalities.

If that wasn’t miracle enough, the projectile had curved in its flight across the inside of the cylinder, apparently avoiding the inner column. All in all, Stubbs reluctantly admitted as he assessed the crater, the damage to Goddard had been minimal.

What disturbed him was that the thing had expertly penetrated a hull built to repel meteors. After all, polyceramic plating was the material credited with making space travel possible.

Stubbs made a complete circuit of the crater with his staff. Alex and Mary, invited along, were silent the whole time, listening to others’ sometimes panicky dialogue. Listening closely to all comments, the Commander remained mute.

“Are these helmets necessary?” asked someone.

“They’re precautionary,” said Stubbs, almost angrily. “In other words, protecting you.”

Seeing through the headgear was not, at the moment, a benefit, Alex thought as he looked at Stubbs’ furrowed brow. The Commander was moving with calm and grace, hardly reminiscent of the person who’d been, until recently, confined to a wheelchair. Observing Stubbs in action, Alex decided it was pure zeal that was driving the man, and even healing him. It was clear to Alex, if not Mary, that he had found his calling.

It was agreed, after some discussion, that the object could be a probe, and since it might be examining the interior of the Goddard it would be best for everyone to leave the area. As Stubbs issued the order everyone prepared to leave.

Alex had been walking next to Wysor. When they reached the cart, Alex became conscious of Mary. “You’re quiet all of a sudden, love.” When she didn’t answer he looked around. Mary was still at the rim of the crater, facing the orb and holding her helmet loosely at her side.

Alex ran toward her, horrified. “Dingers, Mary. What do you think you’re doing?” But she didn’t seem to hear. She stood still as a post, staring at the sphere.

When he reached her side she glanced at him. “I’m coming. Just give me a minute, Alex.”

“To do what?” Alex gazed down at the sphere. There was no detail on its black glassy surface, nor any indication that it had been damaged by its impact. Feeling encumbered by his helmet, he took it off, then stepped away from Mary. At the same moment two blue suited guards reached them. “I’m sorry, you two,” one said. “The Commander insists ...”

“Let a sensor do her work for a minute, gents,” said Alex, holding up a defiant hand. “Give us sixty seconds.”

The guard looked back at Commander Stubbs, who was waiting next to the cart speaking into his wrist receiver. Alex saw Stubbs nod as he spoke. The guard listened a moment longer to his own receiver, then faced Alex and Mary again. This time he switched on the weapon. For a second Alex thought the guards were going to threaten him, but the guard aimed his weapon at the sphere. “The Commander says okay, but make it quick,” he said tersely.

Mary shook her head. “It doesn’t help to threaten that thing.”

“Orders, ma’am,” said the guard.

“Then I’m done here,” Mary said angrily. She turned away from the crater and walked stiffly back to the car with Alex and the guards following. When they reached the cart Stubbs drew her aside. They spoke briefly, then returned to the group.

Alex was already in the cart and Mary slid into the seat beside him. As they headed toward the command center, Alex looked at her questioningly. She shrugged but said nothing. They rode in silence until they reached the center.

Stubbs ordered the driver to take the cart around to the rear of the building.

“We can park at the front, sir,” advised the driver.

“Do what I said,” ordered the Commander. “If that thing is watching, it might have identified us all as leaders. It’s a possibility, at least. I don’t want it to see where we go.”

Johnny Baltadonis was seated in the front of the cart, between the driver and Stubbs. He nodded approvingly when Stubbs gave his order. “Good idea,” he said, glancing back at the crater. Facing Mary, Johnny smiled. “Did you feel anything?”

“Pressured,” she said, not returning his smile. She glanced at Stubbs. “Some of us have different agendas.”

“Like safety of my crew,” said Stubbs. “There’s plenty of time to meditate, Mary. Now we have to assume the worst.

Wouldn’t you agree?”

Mary frowned. “I can sense things, sir.” Her voice was so artificially sweet that it gave Alex the creeps. “If it is a probe, then it would be most active at the outset of its mission. Isn’t that right?” Stubbs took a deep breath, but didn’t reply. The cart reached the rear of the command center and Stubbs stepped out. Without comment he went directly into the building, followed by the guards.

When Alex and Mary got inside the Commander was at his station talking to Captain Wysor. Johnny stayed with Alex and Mary, ushering them to their usual place in the lounge at the rear of the control room. Without comment, he returned to his own console.

Alex sat down on the white foam sofa next to his wife, feeling helpless, but he knew that there was no point in mentioning it.

Mary turned to him and smiled. “It isn’t a demotion for them to put us here, you know,” she said, almost whispering.

Alex chuckled. “Don’t tell me. You’re going to say look at the bright side, at least we’re near the food.”

Mary frowned. “No, I wasn’t.”

The control room was a blur of activity around the figures of Stubbs and the Captain. Alex didn’t envy them. They had to make some quick and difficult decisions. What lay buried in a crater a few meters away might mean the potential destruction of the Goddard. He wondered if any of them could have envisioned an alien object inside the ship, let alone in the heart of the biosphere. On the other hand, the thing might also be completely benign, just some exotic piece of inert space debris.

Meanwhile the residue on the outer hull was being examined, and pictures of it were now displayed on the large screen at the far side of the control room. The view was from a stationary location, probably a remote cam similar to the one sitting on Howarth’s egg. Alex surveyed the other screens in the control room and saw no evidence of the image they had watched for so long, although he did notice that one fairly prominent screen was filled with static. “You know, Mary,” he said with alarm.

“I think they lost contact with that probe on the egg.”

Mary’s eyes were already on the blank screen. “You may be right.”

Alex wondered if anyone else had noticed. After all, the staff did have more immediate problems. He considered asking Johnny about the sonde, but decided to let events take their course. “Geebrew?” he asked Mary.

She looked at him blankly. “Bed would be better. There we can watch what’s going on and ask questions of the computer.” A twinkle of light glinted in Mary’s eyes. “And we can fuck!”

Alex smiled, almost blushing. “I think we’re under orders. Geebrew? Coffee?”

“Tea,” she said glumly. “Callisto black.”

Alex remembered what the dolphins had said about Mary. She seemed fine, but the memory of his conversation rekindled his concern. He resolved to keep his mouth shut about it for the moment and raise the question when the right time came. Besides, the dolphin hadn’t indicated that her condition was serious. Alex got up and punched in their order on the refreshment panel: one geebrew, one Callisto black for the lady.

5 After an hour – much of it filled with shouts and occasional hysteria – the control room settled down. Stubbs lorded over it all red faced and exhausted, yet he managed to bring calm to the group.

The big screen that had been filled with static now had a closeup view of the celebrated black sphere. Several crewmen had bravely set up lights on the crater’s edge to illuminate the object. Attached to them, Alex surmised, were sensors of all kinds. He hoped they’d soon have a handle on the nature of thing that had planted itself in the heart of their ship. In the meantime, every wrist receiver aboard had given its owner the personalized message that the ship was now under martial law, although they used the more popular term Red Alert.

Mary was sipping her second cup of tea, lemon spice this time, when Professor Baltadonis left his place next to the Commander and returned to the lounge area. He went directly to the drink dispenser before joining Alex and Mary.

Alex stood to greet him and offered his hand. “They’ve had you hopping, Professor. What’s our status?”

“It might as well be a black hole,” said Johnny. “Nothing is coming from it. Nothing.”

“Just a melted ball of glass, do you think?” asked Alex, sitting down next to Mary. The Professor shook his head as he moved a chair closer to the two of them and sat down. He set his drink on the spindly table next to him. Alex noted that it was bright red, the mandatory color for stronger beverages. He smiled. “Everyone’s drinking voodoos. It must be in the air.” He glanced at Mary, but she didn’t return his grin.

Mary leaned forward, looking past Alex to see Johnny. “What were you saying about the sphere?”

Johnny picked up his drink. “I needed something a bit stronger than plain old geebrew,” he said almost proudly. He looked at Mary. “Quite honestly, Mary, we are clueless. As far as speculation, your guess is as good as mine. I suspect even better, right now. Did you feel anything coming from it?”

Mary shrugged. “Like it wasn’t there. All I felt was cold.”

Johnny pondered Mary’s words, stroking his short whiskered chin. “Well, we’ve seen no power drains anywhere, except for the severed lines when it hit. What do you mean?”

“If it’s not radiating anything, then it’s absorbing. I’m guessing it’s a probe.”

“We’re all been thinking that, I bet,” offered Alex, looking about the room.

Mary began to chew on a fingernail as she thought, her eyes focused on the control room screen. “What happened to the sonde?” she asked. “Last time we were in here everyone was looking at the hole in the egg.”

“The transmission just stopped,” answered Johnny, curling his brow doubtfully. “Maybe a short somewhere.”

“What’s your speculation, Johnny?” asked Alex.

Johnny nodded. “I think Mary Seventeen is 100% correct. It’s almost poetic. We poke a hole in their world and then they do the same to us. Sonde for sonde.”

“So it seems.” Mary leaned back in her seat and heaved a sigh. “Johnny, why can’t Alex and I go home? We’ll be in the bubble or the com room. We’re as available to you there as we are here.”

“We’re locked down,” said Johnny with a shrug. “The control room, that is.”

“We can go underground,” Mary said, almost pleading.

Johnny blinked. “I was thinking of that, as a matter of fact.”

“Well?” Mary looked innocent, but Alex knew she had read his mind.

“I can’t say, Mary. It’s Stubbs’ call.” Johnny leaned back in his chair. “Are you sure you sensed nothing coming from that sphere? If you can talk to clicker men ... well, when I saw you standing next to it, I hoped you might be getting something from it. So did Stubbs. That’s why he let you stay there for a moment, despite the fact that he can’t afford to lose you. You’re a valuable asset to this crew, Mary Seventeen. I hope you know that.” Johnny gulped down the last of his red Voodoo as if punctuating his statement.

Mary scrutinized the Professor. “Did I say I talked to the clicker men?”

Johnny’s confident eyes never left the control room screen, looming in the distance. On it the sphere, implacable and mysterious. “No you didn’t, my dear. I was speaking metaphorically. But there was some level of communication, isn’t that right?”

Mary stood up. “Professor, I’ve been trying to communicate with these aliens all during the rescue mission and when I stood next to that thing, that is until our esteemed Commander had his soldiers drag me away. I told you what I thought. Now, I just want to get out of here.”

Alex noticed Stubbs watching them. He had apparently heard Mary, because he stalked over to the lounge. “I thought you wanted to be involved!” he growled in irritation. “Is it so hard to just sit here and drink beer?” His eyes were squarely on Alex.

Alex stood up. “I wasn’t doing the talking, Commander. Mary was. But I agree. We’re as useful to you in our bubble at home. We can take the long way home. Once there we’ll do our own intelligence work, and we won’t be in anyone’s way.”

“Why should you be exempt from the rules?” Stubbs now seemed more detached than antagonistic, but it aroused Alex’s ire nevertheless. This time he knew that arguing would be useless with the Commander.

Mary raised a graceful finger. “Well, for one, Commander, it wouldn’t hurt to reduce personnel in here. All we can do is sit around reducing consumables, drinking geebrew and coffee. The essential staff needs those consumables. We have our own at home.”

Alex chose the moment to assist Mary’s argument. “Let us go, Commander, we’ll stay out of sight and be just as useful at home.”

Stubbs smiled. “I could say just stop drinking the coffee. But you have a valid point. And we may need the couch space.”

Stubbs signaled to an armed officer wearing a black cap. The man trotted briskly over to them and came to full attention.

Stubbs instructed him to allow Alex and Mary out the door. But as Mary rose to leave, the Commander took her arm. “Don’t go near it. I don’t want any of my valuable crew hurt. At least not at the moment.” He hugged Mary in a fatherly way.

“Then we should take action,” said Alex. “Here’s an idea. Take a shuttle down to the sonde to see what’s going on? We know what’s happening here, but we’re blind to what’s going on below.”

Everyone nearby looked at Alex wide-eyed. The Commander didn’t seemed surprised at Alex’s suggestion, but neither did he reply. After a moment of thought, Stubbs pointed at the screen. “I want an opinion. Is it me, our cameras, or has the surface of that orb changed?”

Mary eyed the object on the screen critically. “I don’t see a change. But I’d have to see the thing first hand to be sure.”

“Different in what way, Commander?” asked Alex.

“Surface texture, I suppose,” replied Stubbs.

“You can find that out easily enough by playing back the data, can’t you?” offered Mary.

Stubbs looked at Mary skeptically. “Yes, of course we can. Mary,” he almost whispered. “And, in answer to your first question, you two can indeed return to your quarters.”

“What about my suggestion?” asked Alex.

Mary responded with an angry tug on Alex’s sleeve. The Commander noticed her reaction and smiled. “The shuttles are grounded at the moment,” he said. “But thanks for volunteering, Alex. We may take you up on your offer.”

Mary turned in a huff and walked stiffly through the back door. Both guards watched her pass and looked to the

Commander with raised eyebrows. Stubbs smiled and shook his head. “She’s tired. Let her go.”

Alex had to run to match Mary’s athletic strides. When he caught up to her he took her arm. “Mary, stop. We have to watch where we’re going.”

“Why did you volunteer to go back?” she asked. She pulled her arm angrily away from Alex. “If you want to volunteer, fine, but that volunteers ME, too!”

He was glad at least that she was venting her rage in a whisper. “Mary,” said Alex, interrupting her with a finger to her lips. “Now’s not the time. We need to get home.”

Mary stiffened. “We’re behind the building. IT can’t see us.” She looked around and shrugged. “You know, Alex, I wasn’t going to ... but what the hell.” With that she sprinted around the building. Alex knew where she was going, and no one was around to prevent her reaching the sphere.

“Dingers,” Alex groaned. This time he couldn’t match her speed. The more he ran the more he realized it was fruitless to interfere with whatever it was she was doing. Still, there was the matter of what Stubbs would do if he saw her ignoring his orders. Soon, he knew, the remote cameras near the pit would see her.

As he rounded the building he saw Mary trotting down a path, stripping off her flight suit as she ran. She managed to jump out of each boot and unzip her garments with movements so sure they looked practiced. He wanted to bellow in rage but was mindful that the sphere, lurking not far away, might be listening. Alex moved forward until he saw the edge of the crater and stopped. He’d lost any chance to stop her now. Her beautiful, and now naked, body was already far down the path.

With no idea of her plan, he did the only thing he could do. He sat down on the grass and watched.

She was running in long strides. Just when she was nearly out of sight, she cut to the left and vanished into a group of trees. Alex was about to panic when he caught sight of her again, sprinting at the same speed, but now returning on a different path toward him. When she got close enough he cupped his hands and shouted. “Mary! What are you doing?”

“Pick up my clothes ... and take them home ... the long way!” she shouted. Then she turned and made a beeline along the path that lead directly to the crater. He blushed as he watched her nearly nude body run into the distance, wondering what the command staff was thinking. He consoled himself with the fact that she was not entirely naked. She still wore flesh colored briefs.

As Mary approached the crater, Alex expected her to stop, but she kept to the middle of the path and ran at a steady speed past the crater, then on toward Lake Geneva and home. Soon she turned on to the path that led to their house.

There was nothing for him to do but follow Mary’s orders to collect her clothes and take the long way back to the house.

But he’d already waited too long. The first of the troopers had already burst out of the doors of the control building. The men ran past him as though he wasn’t there. When they reached the edge of the building they paused and crouched defensively, speaking in staccato whispers to each other and to their wrists.

Alex stood up boldly, shook his head in disbelief, and walked off to collect Mary’s things. “Sorry, gents,” he said, “but the lady needs her pants.” None of the guards responded. Perhaps they were too busy searching for his Lady Godiva.

“She’s long gone, lads,” said Alex as he ran down the path toward Mary’s coveralls.

Along the way he also found her sneakers, one of which was about to be stolen by a squirrel. When he’d gathered everything up he headed for home, avoiding the guards and the command center. His path took him far enough from the impact that the curvature of the cylinder allowed him to see the crater and the black sphere nested inside it. For a moment he leaned against a tree trunk and watched. As far as he could see nothing about it had changed.

He surveyed the area, seeing no movement anywhere. It was strange to see the great cylinder virtually devoid of population. The thought of it gave him the creeps. Alex shrugged off the notion and headed home, wondering what the aliens had made of Mary’s naked sprint. After a while he began to laugh.

6 Mary was dressed when Alex got home, and Johnny’s face was already on the screen when he walked into their com room and found Mary relaxing on the sofa, staring confidently at the Commander. She was gripping a squeezer of water, her hair wet and wrapped in a pink turban. Everything about her was graceful and relaxed, except her tone of voice.

“... so I thought it was best if I took another look at it.” Mary looked up at Alex and smiled. She patted the seat beside her.

Alex walked to the refreshment panel and got himself a geebrew. “Your clothes were gonna be in a squirrel’s nest,” he commented.

When he looked again at the screen, the Professor was wearing a wry grin. “Glad you made it, Alex,” he said.

With foamy brew in hand, Alex walked to the sofa and sat next to Mary. “Don’t let me stop your confab with the lady, Johnny,” he said. “Did Mary impress our visitor?” He hoisted his beer toward the viewscreen. The Professor’s face was inset into a larger background image of the crater. As far as Alex could see nothing had changed about it.

“Mary was about to explain that spectacular sprint she performed.” The Professor’s eyes shifted as he looked at Alex and Mary on his own monitor.

“I’ve already explained,” she said quietly. “No harm was done.”

“That’s true,” admitted Baltadonis. “She did explain, Alex, and I have to say that her idea was ... interesting.” He chuckled. “And, as she said, no harm done. As far as I know.”

Alex sat back and looked at the screen. “What idea?”

“I wanted to see the thing again,” said Mary. “I guess it was impulsive. And I’m sorry about not following orders, Professor. I took a jog past it so I could see it up close. I got to see all I needed to. I figured I’d just confuse it and I’d get to see it. Everyone that’s been near the thing has been wearing protective suits.”

“Why naked?” Alex wasn’t smiling.

“I wasn’t naked,” Mary slapped Alex’s leg, but smiled cheerfully at the screen. “I mean, it’s never seen anything like me before. Right, Johnny?”

Alex chuckled. “That’s for sure.”

“Indeed.” Johnny looked bemused more than angry. “And did you see any change in the sphere? Did getting near close to it let you feel anything?” He looked around cautiously. “Please give me something here that will enlighten Stubbs, Mary.

He wasn’t pleased by your ... stunt, I think he called it.”

Mary nodded. “I had the impression that it had shrunk a bit,” she said. “If I had to guess I’d say it’s reduced in size maybe five or six percent. But the surface looked the same.”

“Five or six percent?” repeated Johnny. “That’s quite a lot.”

“Haven’t your instruments told you that, Professor?” asked Alex.

“I’ll have to check. I’ll get back to you.” Johnny’s image disappeared from the screen.

Alex put an arm around Mary and felt her instantly relax. “Maybe I’m a lunatic,” she said.

He kissed her and stroked her white hair. “Love it,” he said. “Love you.”

She looked up into his eyes. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

Alex blinked. “Sure. Or I wouldn’t have said it.”

Mary smiled. “You’re not angry?”

“Well, don’t make a habit of it. People will talk.” Alex kept a straight face as he stared into her eyes. “That was a joke.”

Mary pulled away from him slightly and regarded him skeptically. “You’re the lunatic,” she said. “Really. Didn’t it bother you?”

“A bit,” he admitted. “I don’t want to share you with anyone. Even the dolphins.”

Mary cocked her head. “You talked to the dolphins?” She frowned. “There’s a problem. What is it?”

Alex was used to Mary picking his mind. He smiled encouragingly. “They suggested you get a checkup. I don’t think they thought it was serious.”

Mary looked at the viewscreen. “I’m fine, Alex.”

“You threw up this morning, didn’t you?”

“So?”

“When have you ever thrown up in the morning?”

“Yesterday, but ...”

“Dingers, Mary. Just have the doctors take a look.”

“I don’t like doctors.”

Alex pulled Mary closer to him. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” He looked back at the screen.

“That sphere is the problem,” Mary said, sternly. “It would be good if we could get a handle on it.”

“A handle would help us haul it out of the cylinder, I suppose,” Alex said almost whimsically. “Isn’t it surprising that no one’s out there investigating it?”

“You can investigate me,” suggested Mary, grinning.

“I’m all sweaty, Mary.”

“Mmm, a salty snack,” she replied. “What a splendid idea.”

“Computer,” Alex said. “Are you monitoring our conversation?”

“Now I am, Alex Rose,” said the voice of the computer.

“Can you interpret the current speculation as to the origin of the black sphere, computer?” Alex smiled hopefully. “We said we were going to do research, Mary,” he whispered.

“Yes,” said the computer’s ghostly metallic voice.

He winked at Mary. “Computer, can you switch the com systems to our bedroom dome, and can you give us privacy from ... intruding eyes?”

“And ears,” added Mary.

“Yes.”

Five minutes later Alex and Mary were naked in their closed white dome. The screen that covered them ran a visual program surrounding them with the starry skies of Ganymede. “This is better, isn’t it, Mary?” Alex asked.

Mary rubbed her bare nipple against his shoulder. “Oh, yes,” she cooed. “Much better.”

“Incoming message,” said the computer, as the same words also flashed across the apex of the dome.

They both covered themselves with a sheet and sat up, bolstering their backs with pillows before Alex answered the computer. “Okay, computer, admit the message.

“Is two way video permitted? ”

“I guess so. Sure,” answered Alex, looking at Mary doubtfully.

Stubbs and Johnny appeared side by side in a window above them. “You two look ... comfy,” Stubbs observed with a wry smile. “Sorry for the intrusion, but I wanted to hear for myself what that erotic, I mean, erratic behavior near the sphere has achieved, Mary. I’ll remind you, before you answer, that you broke an order with that brief but spectacular exhibition.”

“I’m aware of that, sir,” explained Mary politely. “Sorry I broke an order, but I saw no other way to be alone with the thing without causing a psychic stir. You wanted to know if it had changed.”

“You said psychic?” Stubbs raised an eyebrow.

“It may be an alien probe,” continued Mary. “Perhaps this probe is an answer to the one we left on the egg. Who knows how they communicate?” She was almost pleading. Under the sheet Alex squeezed her hand. It was cold and damp.

Stubbs seemed to soften as he listened. “What did you feel when you passed near it? Did anything make you feel it was sentient?”

“Nothing.” Mary lowered her head. “Only blackness. And cold.”

“Cold means absorbing energy,” remarked Stubbs. “That’s why our sensors are getting nothing. Indeed, it has shrunk, as you mentioned to the Professor. And what else?” He looked at Johnny, next to him.

Johnny gave Stubbs a confirming nod. “It’s something like glass, or ice. If it’s reducing in mass, it might be dessicating.

But our instruments have detected nothing emitting from it, gas or otherwise. And it is very cold, as Mary said, and may be absorbing heat. If that’s true, we should seal it up.”

“And get rid of it,” added Stubbs.

“How would you get it out of the cylinder? Have your engineers figured that out?” asked Alex.

“We’ve begun filtering the air near it as an immediate precaution. And, yes, there’s talk of sealing it in aerogel. Some’s being prepared now.” Behind Stubbs in the image was the ceiling of the control room. Alex guessed the camera was on the Commander’s console.

“How do you plan to get it out of the cylinder?” asked Mary.

“Good question,” said Stubbs. “It will fit in a tubeway transport. The engineers are considering a connecting tunnel to the tubeway.”

Professor Baltadonis then interrupted and began detailing those plans. Alex raised a finger. “What about the outside material, the stuff on the hull? Has it been analyzed?”

“A cellular formation,” Johnny said soberly. “Like plant cells, I was told,” he added. “Melted when it hit Goddard. Froze up solid on the hull. We think the freezing action may have helped punch it through the ship.”

Mary shook her head. “Why take it through the ship and do all that building? Seal it up and transport it to the hole it made. That leaves you with only two repair jobs, not three.”

Stubbs blinked. Then he smiled. “Thank you, Mary,” he said, and ended the transmission.

Alex looked at Mary. “Wow,” he said.

7 As concerned as everyone was about removing the sphere and repairing the damage, there was equal concern over its origin and purpose. Even as teams applied the coating of aerogel to the cold ebony sphere, speculation among the crew was quickly turning into paranoia and fear. And the question on everyone’s mind seemed to be – what next?

The Commander acted quickly. Three hours after Stubbs had given the order, the sphere was being coated with an aerogel spray and a transport vehicle was being modified to carry it. But even though they hurried, it would take an estimated six hours to move the sphere around the cylinder to the hole where it had entered the ship. At the same time a special frame was being constructed to lower the sphere to the bottom of hole it had made in the cylinder. Getting the sphere to the hole, however, only solved part of the problem. They also had to devise a way to get it through the hull. This meant transferring the sphere from the cylinder to the outer hull section despite the cylinder’s continuous rotation.

The last thing Commander Stubbs wanted to do was stop the cylinder, but firing the thing out through both holes when they merged was risky at best. It was decided, therefore, that the rotation of the cylinder should be slowed to one-third speed.

Stopping the rotation entirely would require draining the lake and securing everything in the cylinder for weightlessness. That unthinkable prospect motivated the engineers, who quickly built a shaft to guide the sphere through the hole in the cylinder.

At the same time, crews built a matching shaft through the entry hole in the outer hull and sealed it in place.

The idea was simple. When everything was in place and they were ready to launch the sphere into space, the shaft containing the sphere would be pressurized and the hole in the outer tube would be opened to the vacuum of space. At the moment the two holes merged the sphere would be fired into space, ejected by air pressure and centrifugal force.

Commander Stubbs liked the plan, saying the engineers had proven once again that ‘desperation is the mother of invention’. But despite his overwhelming approval he didn’t relent on his demands. He gave them 24 hours to complete it.

Professor Baltadonis visited Alex and Mary later that evening. In the quiet of their com room he reluctantly admitted that the doubted that the operation would be accomplished on Stubbs’ timetable. An armed convoy, moving slowly along a winding pathway that led around the lake to the opposite wall of the cylinder, was transporting the sphere. Mary’s keen eyes spotted them from the picture window.

Johnny and Alex walked to the glass and peered up into the glowing sky, but Johnny left the window complaining of the glare. Alex agreed. “My eyes aren’t that good, either.”

He did, however, notice a number of ultralights flying in formation above the place where Mary was looking. The central column was dimming as the artificial day drew to a close. Flocks of birds were settling in the trees and bushes, while here and there lights began to blink on.

Alex turned away from the window. Johnny was seated opposite the viewscreen staring at it blankly. The images displayed were from cameras following the transport from all angles, even from the air, presumably using cameras aboard the ultralights. But the Professor seemed disinterested and detached.

“What’s on your mind, Johnny?” asked Alex.

The Professor grinned. “Mars,” he said. “Wondering how the terraformers are doing. If they ever beat the microdust problem in the atmospheric crackers.” He looked at Alex. “Martian dust gets into everything.”

To Alex Mars was a dust bowl, hardly worth the time and trouble to terraform. It amused him to see someone waxing nostalgic over it. “You miss ol’ red, eh, Johnny?”

“I miss my orchids. My swamp lilies. I miss my daughter.” Johnny said wistfully. The Professor was wearing a bright blue Hawaiian shirt and yellow shorts. When he’d arrived he’d explained the garb as a protest to the tense atmosphere. “We need some brightness. Some beauty aboard this ship.” He drifted into remembrance. “I’ll bet they let my gardens rot.” He sighed deeply.

Mary walked over to Johnny and rubbed his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Johnny. I wish your daughter had come along.”

“That’s just it,” said Johnny. “She could be here on this amazing trip. But ...”

“You had to come, Johnny,” said Alex. “Hell, nothing could have prevented you from coming along. You’re as essential to the mission as Stubbs, you know.”

“I suppose that should make me feel better, Alex,” said Johnny, managing a smile, “but somehow ...”

Mary looked at Alex angrily. Then she faced the Professor. “Alex and I often forget how lucky we are, Johnny. We have each other while so many are separated from loved ones.”

Johnny smiled. “No, Mary. Alex is 100% right.” He stood up, stretched, and went to the food panel. “May I?” he asked politely. “I’m lowering your coffee ration a bit here.”

“Don’t overdo it, you ol’ guzzler,” griped Alex. “We know your sob stories are just a ploy to steal rations.”

Mary looked perplexed as both Johnny and Alex burst into laughter.

“I wasn’t just thinking about my daughter. It’s the sphere ... and the mission.” Johnny took the coffee from the slot in the wall and stared at it thoughtfully. “The fact that there are sentients on Lalande b almost makes it certain that we’ll have to investigate Lalande c.”

“When?” asked Alex. “Is Stubbs ...?”

Johnny put up his hands defensively. “I should have kept my mouth shut,” he said. “This is still just talk.”

“Stubbs talk?” said Alex.

Johnny nodded and looked again at the screen. “Right now I’m hoping the engineers got everything right.” He walked to the window and gazed out at the cylinder. “And thank God for the repair-bots. Without them the work would take weeks.”

With Goddard’s nightfall coming swiftly it was easy to spot the gathering of lights that marked the convoy, now a third of the way around the cylinder. “Like Martian fireworms, climbing a wall,” said the Professor. “Someone should take a picture.”

8 Alex knew Johnny had been joking, of course. There were cameras everywhere monitoring every nuance of the Goddard mission, and all the data was being transmitted home. The broadcasts to Earth were continuous. Every measurement, every lab report, were all faithfully bundled, and launched in microwave packets toward the distant solar system. But for all the effort to share the data with the rest of humanity, everyone realized they might never know if the data reached home. Only when they returned would they find that out, and then it might not matter. Despite all the theoretical physics involved in worm-hole flight, the time effects on large scale missions were unknown. For all any of then knew, when they returned to Earth centuries might have transpired, or they might even find themselves back in time or confronted with an alternate reality.

There had been tests of the system before the Goddard mission, but all of them had been within the solar system, between Earth or Mars and Jupiter, where repairs and rescue missions could be quickly implemented.

Alex had always seen the mission as a test flight, and he’d always assumed that it would take no longer than a few years at best. But he knew also that it could be a one way trip. Only when they safely returned to Gannytown would they know for sure. With a trip to the second gas giant suddenly looming, the prospect of that happening seemed as remote as the solar system itself.

As the time for the explosive launch of the alien sphere neared, Alex found his mind drifting to concerns for Mary. After Johnny left their home his fears had increased. He suspected they both would be drafted for an exploratory flight into Lalande c’s vortex. Once the explorer instincts in him would have welcomed that prospect, but the rescue mission to Howarth’s egg had quelled that part of him, and he was already dreading a return trip. His suggestion about a return mission was the only way he felt he could learn if such a trip was in Stubbs’ mind. What Mary had taken as volunteerism was really a bid for information from a Commander whose intentions seemed blurry at best.

Then there was the matter of Mary’s health. She had been sick again that morning and, as before, had been dismissive when he showed concern. Would Mary’s undiagnosed malady cause her harm if she went on another mission?

9 They had settled in to watch the launch of the sphere from the comfort of the bubble when orders came from the Commander.

Minutes later, Alex and Mary boarded a tube car for a trip to their shuttle. Stubbs wanted a chase vehicle to observe the sphere after its launch from Goddard. His choice was Diver, with Alex at the helm, of course. Johnny and Matt Howarth would be along to monitor the sphere while Alex and backup pilot Connie Tsu manned the helm. Stubbs wanted Mary to go along as communications officer.

When Alex asked her if she felt up to it, Mary looked at him as if he was crazy. “I’m fine,” she insisted. I want to go. I just wish Stubbs had let me take Inky along, too. He’s been lonely during all the excitement.”

Mary was changing the subject, and he understood why. The only illness that she had ever known resulted from injury or implant surgery. He never heard her complain of a headache or even an upset stomach. If Stubbs hadn’t been so adamant about the importance of the mission, Alex would have insisted the meds look at her first. But the dolphin had said there was no urgency, and the cylinder’s weather staff had already reported a mean temperature drop of two degrees. As the Commander had said, the longer the sphere stayed aboard the greater the threat to ship and crew.

Though Alex still worried about her, Mary seemed fine as they got out of the tubeway and floated together, hand in hand, toward the hangar doors. They were dressed in the silver coveralls provided without explanation by the med techs.

Inside the hangar stood the rest of the crew, and one more member, borne in a small locker by Connie Tsu. When Connie saw Mary enter the hangar bay she pushed the box gently in Mary’s direction. Alex heard protesting meows of their cat as the box tumbled toward Mary, who caught it handily and peered inside. She smiled, wide-eyed, at Tsu. “Inky?”

“We thought he should be along, for old time’s sake,” said Johnny, hovering next to Tsu. “I had the crew stow some chow for him.”

Mary’s brightened mood was evident when they reached Diver’s airlock. She breezed inside and took up her station.

Everyone else did the same, hastened by the steady urgings of the Commander’s voice on their wristbands.

Alex surveyed the cabin and smiled, glad to see that there were no unfamiliar modifications, as had been the case on the last two missions. His eyes fell on Tsu and she returned his look with one of consternation. “What?” she asked. “Why the grin?”

Alex was about to reply when Stubbs’ voice came over the cabin intercom. “Stow it and buckle up, people,” said the Commander. “We have a launch sequence for the sphere. Two minutes.”

“Wow! They’re really pushin’ it,” remarked Matt Howarth, last through the airlock. “Jesus H. Pope,” he growled as he floated like a silver pillow to the radar station behind Alex’s chair.

The Professor was already busy inside the bubble that dominated the center of Diver’s cabin. “Sealing the lock,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Contact,” said Stubbs’ voice on the intercom.

Diver creaked as it moved out of its docking position and onto the launch ramp. There was nothing for Alex to do but sit back until he was called upon to perform his duties. Beside his chair was the tactical helmet that allowed virtual reality instead of just a viewscreen. He might have put the helmet on, but he knew that would automatically arm the weapons system and put the computer into tactical mode. Then he noticed that it was secured with a silver cord and a coded lock. “No war games today, I guess,” he muttered as Diver’s engines started up.

The viewscreen over the forward windows blinked on. The outside cameras, set to mimic the forward view, now showed only stars. One of them, Alex mused, could be the sun. Almost unseen at the right side of the screen was the shadowy rim of Lalande b. He noticed it only because a lightning flash on its cloudy surface was brighter, for a moment, than the red dwarf Lalande that lay centered at the top of the screen.

Clearing the shuttle bay doors, Diver’s computer turned the ship to parallel the surface of Goddard, and they began to move forward slowly. The great ship filled the left half of the viewscreen, a tapering white structure that seemed to trail off into infinity. Everyone was busy but Alex. Matt, just behind him, was muttering to someone on his personal com. Johnny had his bubble lowered, also engaged in private conversation, and Tsu was busy recalibrating the ship’s navigational trackers.

Even Mary was busy, establishing multiple radio links with Goddard.

Only Alex sat idle watching the seemingly endless white hull move slowly by. It looked brand new, completely unblemished by its passage across eight light years of interstellar space. He knew that while under the influence of the gravitational pulse drive the ship traveled in a bubble outside of reality. Particles of dust and other more massive debris would simply not interact with it. But much of Goddard’s travel had been in normal space, and at high speeds. That meant frequent collisions with dust and space debris or ‘dingers’, as spacers called them. Yet, everywhere he looked, the polyceramic plating was pristine.

Finally the computer brought Diver to a stop. Before them a large domed canopy covered the site of the alien impact. At the apex of the dome was the hole. “I guess this is where we stay,” said Johnny’s voice over the intercom. “No need for me to stay in here until we launch,” he added. With a hiss the black cowl that had covered the Professor’s chair lifted to the cabin ceiling. “Maybe some coffee is in order.”

“That’s a ding,” said Tsu, peering out the forward window at the billowy structure below them. “Can’t be without our vites.” She turned as Johnny drifted out of his chair in the direction of the food panel. “If you’re takin’ orders, Profy, make mine coffee. Black.”

“Make that two,” said Alex. “Mary?”

“Juice blend,” Mary answered. Inky lay contented in her lap, apparently enjoying the weightless environment of the cabin and Mary’s soft stroking of his fur. Inky had spent many hours as part of Diver’s crew. His favorite haunt was the ceiling over Mary’s head.

The drinks weren’t a problem for the Professor to handle in zero gee. Instead of floating around the cabin delivering drinks, Johnny fired the hot squeezers of coffee and tea like missiles across the cabin.

Alex caught his coffee and broke the seal.

“Some music while we’re waiting?” asked Tsu, looking around.

“What have you in mind, Connie?” asked the Professor, returning to his chair.

“Hawkwind,” she said and leaned toward her console.

“Ah, a little twentieth century space rock, eh,” said Matt Howarth. “Not bad. But only if you follow it with some King Crimson.”

“Don’t know it,” said Alex and Johnny at the same time.

10 The ethereal throbbing of Hawkwind’s ancient rock sounds wasn’t discordant to Alex, but he did find it more melancholy than invigorating. He was still worried about Mary. It seemed that everything she did gave him reason to assess her well-being. The music seemed to enhance that worry, and he was relieved when it was interrupted remotely so that Commander Stubbs could speak to the crew. “We have a holdup,” said Stubbs, sounding stressed. “We had to double check the pressure seal. The construction was slightly ... ah, why am I explaining this? What you need to know is that the clock is now set. We launch in ten minutes. The computer will orient you and regulate your chase. Should anything unusual happen you are authorized to chase it. Well, I don’t want you to chase it as much as track it to see where it goes.”

“Even if it returns to the surface of Bubba?” Johnny asked in surprise.

“Possibly,” said Stubbs. “Are all of you strapped tight?”

Johnny glanced around the room, looking a bit forlorn. “As requested, sir.”

“Good,” answered the Commander. His voice sounded strained. “The computer will take control any second to get you on your way before the launch.”

Alex hung his head in disappointment. He’d been looking forward to seeing the strange missile burst from the ship.

“Can’t fly my ship. Can’t even watch the launch. I’ll bet there’s some reason for me to be here, but at the moment I haven’t a clue.”

“Pilot versus computer,” said Johnny. “Eh, Alex?”

“It takes a pilot to bring us home,” offered Connie. She eyed Johnny coldly.

Diver’s engines came on full. Moments later the computer’s voice began a countdown for the launch of the sphere.

“Thirty seconds.” The viewscreen switched to a telescopic shot of the blister on Goddard’s hull, steadily magnifying the image as Diver sped away at ever increasing speed.

Johnny brought down his bubble as the whine of the ship’s power diminished, then stopped.

“LAUNCH!” shouted Stubbs’ voice.

The viewscreen was tight on the hole as a streak of silver flashed out of it, followed by a cone shaped puff of steam. The camera almost instantly caught up with and tracked the projectile into space. “Damn fine camera work, eh?” crowed Matt.

The cylinder tumbled as the camera followed it, then it suddenly popped open, showering pieces in all directions. The sphere, still encased in white aerogel, continued its journey into space.

“Looks like everything worked fine,” said Johnny.

“Was it supposed to blow up like that?” asked Connie.

“Correct, Connie,” said Johnny. “I thought everyone knew the plan was to seal the thing until it got into space. The canister was designed to release the sphere.”

“Any second now, people,” cautioned the voice of Stubbs. “The sphere’s getting close to you.”

“Here we go,” said Mary.

Diver’s motors went to full power. “And we’re off ...” shouted Johnny.

Despite the change in speed, Matt’s cameras tracked the sphere precisely as it continued on a dead straight course.

“Radar’s tracking the sphere,” he announced proudly. “Now it’s driving the cameras.”

“Good, Matt,” said Johnny. “So far there seems to be no course deviation.”

“Should there be? How could it change course?” Tsu challenged. “If you ask me, this is a silly mission. Goddard’s onboards can track it, can’t they?”

“Is there something you’d rather do?” asked Stubbs.

Tsu frowned. “No, sir.”

“What makes us think the sphere could change course, sealed in gel and all?” Alex said, winking at Connie.

“If we don’t know what it is, or how it penetrated our ship, then we can’t predict what it can do,” answered Stubbs, his voice sounding subdued. “Ready for anything, as they say.”

“I get it,” said Alex darkly.

“Aren’t you having a good time, either, Alex?” asked Stubbs. His voice dripped with condescension.

“Time o’ me’ life, cap’,” was Alex’s knee-jerk Ganny reply.

“It’s changing course!” shouted Johnny.

The computer guiding Alex’s ship responded accordingly. “Course adjustment ... point one degrees ... point two ...”

Connie Tsu read the numbers and Matt confirmed them each time. “We have significant deviation,” added Matt.

“What do you think of this, Commander?” asked Johnny.

“First, I’d look for gravitational or magnetic reasons, Johnny,” answered the calm voice of the Commander. “We’re checking that now. Thank you, Diver.”

Tsu continued to announce each decimal in the sphere’s course deviation, and the camera remained solidly fixed the dim blue ball so seemingly static against the background of stars that it might have been painted there.

11 If it was rotating, Alex couldn’t tell. The lighting provided by the tiny red sun was too dim to render the alien orb as it cruised deeper into space. A hundred kilometers behind it followed Diver, still guided by the ship’s radar. It had been a half hour, and there seemed little doubt that the sphere was doing nothing more than finding its gravitational orbit.

Despite Connie’s calculation that the sphere wouldn’t arrive ‘home’ on Bubba for another fifteen hundred years, Stubbs hadn’t called off the chase. As minutes became hours, boredom forced the crew to seek unexpected amusements. Johnny remained at his station and watched as Mary and Matt played ‘catch the cat’ with Inky. From an observer’s viewpoint it seemed fairly ruthless, but the animal loved it. Even when Mary fast-balled it off Alex’s seat by accident, Inky just grunted and sprang toward the rear galley, then back into Mary’s arms, ready for more.

All the while, Johnny fiddled with his console, glancing every so often at the viewscreen and at the antics with the cat.

Suspecting that the Professor was up to something, Alex kept his eyes on the viewscreen. Soon the image of the ball began to look more detailed. He could see the lumpy texture of the insulating foam that covered the sphere. The starry background brightened and clouds of interstellar gas began to appear in the darkness. The brighter sky silhouetted the sphere, making it even easier to see.

“Adjusting the image, Professor Baltadonis?” asked Tsu. “Or is the universe ending?”

Mary hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation or the viewscreen. Hearing Tsu, she let go of the cat and looked at the viewscreen in horror. “Did someone say the universe is ending?” Mary’s reaction caught Inky off guard, and he ended up clinging to the cabin ceiling, looking confused. “Fun’s over, Inky,” said Mary, looking up at the cat. “Time to get serious.”

She looked around at the rest of the crew.

Everyone else was watching the screen. The camera was set at maximum magnification, but the sphere was still disappointingly small on the screen. Still, the image Johnny had produced was detailed enough to see changes in the sphere’s surface.

Mary leaned forward and squinted at the screen. “The surface is cracking, isn’t it? The casing was smoother before, wasn’t it?”

“Well, heck,” he said, “I’ll find it in the visual record and put it on the screen, for comparison.” Delighted to suddenly have a task to perform, Johnny attacked his console with new zest.

A second image of the sphere suddenly appeared next to the first. Even out of focus, it was clear that the sphere had changed radically. As Mary had said, the aerogel coating was cracking. As they watched, a big piece of it broke off and drifted slowly out of frame.

“Well, I guess we don’t need comparisons, do we?” said Johnny.

“What have we got, Johnny?” asked the voice of Commander Stubbs. “Changes in the sphere?”

“I was about to call you,” began Johnny. “Are you receiving these images?”

“Is that your best magnification? Can’t you get closer?”

“Your orders were for stealth ... not to get close ...”

“I want to see this,” interrupted Stubbs. “Get closer immediately!”

“Is everyone strapped in?” Johnny asked looking around at the crew. His eyes fell on Alex. “Let’s get closer, Alex.”

Mary stood up and plucked Inky from the ceiling, then ducked quickly back into her seat. She did it exquisitely, never losing her grip on the cat. “I’m ready,” she said.

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Framed