Being of the Field (4 page)

‘All too true. And on the subject of miracles, I want to discuss your FFRD reading during the mission today.’ Lucian raised the subject somewhat warily.

‘I expected you might want to forget it,’ Taren proffered. ‘Unless, of course, you wish to discuss it in order to find a way to dismiss the incident?’

‘On the contrary!’ Lucian’s tone appealed for her to have a little more faith in him. ‘When you analyse the data on the FFRD, I want a copy of the report. I’ll reserve any argument until we have some data worth arguing about.’

Good comeback,
thought Taren. Lucian Gervaise was certainly a lot more open-minded than any of her associates to date. ‘Of course.’ She pressed the ‘run’ button and rose. ‘I’m ready for the tour now.’

Lucian motioned to the door that Bonar and his crew were now exiting through. ‘Then let’s start with how to program your entry code and go from there.’

Taren was truly impressed with her living quarters—her rooms were large with breathtaking views of space.

‘Even royalty would be happy staying here,’ she commented, as Lucian demonstrated all the mod cons.

‘When confined to a vessel, people need their own space,’ Lucian explained. ‘This may seem like a large area right now, but in six months it could feel all too small.’

‘Best accommodation I’ve ever had,’ Taren complimented the captain. ‘Good luck getting rid of me.’

‘Having you aboard is a welcome diversification for the project. I doubt we shall be in any hurry to kick you out.’ Lucian hinted that a more permanent arrangement might be on the cards.

Taren raised both brows, but the professor knew as well as she did that until she proved her aptitude for this type of fieldwork, there was no point in discussing the issue further. Space-work was not for everyone, and there was always a six-month trial period involved.
‘Careful what you wish for, Lucian.’ It felt wonderful to be on a firstname basis with the legend of cutting-edge astro-marine research. ‘I seem to induce a condition commonly known as “red cheeks” in most of my supervisors.’

‘I know you’ve been given a hard time in the past, Taren.’ Lucian’s tone was serious. ‘We’re different here on AMIE. Anything goes, all theories welcome. Proof is also very important, naturally, but we are patient and will support your theories unless someone can prove you wrong.’

Taren nearly had heart failure at his words. This guy wasn’t a total sceptic—he was being straight with her, she could tell. His energy felt very clear and refreshing; Lucian exuded such integrity that one felt like an arrogant ingrate not to believe him. ‘That’s comforting to know, Lucian. Thanks for the vote of confidence.’

He smiled, pleased to have set her at ease. ‘Come, I’ll show you where the offices are.’

Taren’s jaw dropped. ‘Don’t tell me I get an office too?’

‘You’ll have to share with one of the other solo researchers here.’ Lucian led her into the curving corridor. ‘He’s a nice, quiet bloke. I’m sure you’ll get along.’

Taren entered the code that locked her living quarters and then caught up with Lucian. ‘What’s he studying?’

‘Ringbalin is our botanist and horticulturist-cum-geneticist,’ Lucian replied. ‘He’s the reason the salad is so good here.’

‘He grows food in space?’ Taren assumed.

‘He grows
great food
in space,’ Lucian corrected, ‘without pesticides due to the pest-free environment.’

‘I have to agree my salad was pretty good.’ Taren followed Lucian down a corridor that led into the heart of this module.

Lucian continued his guided tour explaining that in this module all the living quarters were around the exterior of the module, to take advantage of the views, and all the offices were in the central chamber of the module.

They entered a round chamber full of reference databases and communication systems, one end of which was Aurora’s reception area and beyond that the captain’s office—the only office with a view of
space. But there were doors all around the walls of this office area—bar where the two entrance corridors were located—and these were the private staff offices. Lucian approached one of these and the door slid aside.

‘This will be your office.’ Lucian indicated one side of an enclosed office which was almost triangular in shape, as the curved back wall was wider than the entrance.

Taren looked over to her new office mate’s side of the room where all manner of plants were displayed in long glass tubes. Some plants were growing under lights, but others were both in water and under light. ‘Wow!’ she exclaimed, thinking they were too beautiful to be scientific experiments.

Her side of the room was spotless and barren, except for the database system on her desk.

‘You won’t see much of Ringbalin as he spends most of his time in the greenhouse in Module C,’ Lucian informed her. ‘You might want to seek him out there if you get the urge to cook for yourself.’

‘I thought I saw you wander through.’

Taren looked up to see the most stunningly beautiful woman standing in the doorway.

She was tall, slender and graceful. Noting the way she and Lucian regarded each other, Taren knew that this woman was Amie, Lucian’s wife.

‘I was just showing our new recruit around.’ Lucian motioned to Taren, but Amie was already approaching to shake Taren’s hand.

‘We are so very pleased to have you aboard, Dr Lennox. Your research has been an inspiration to many of us here.’

Oh, shit! Not only is she beautiful, but she’s a lovely person
, Taren thought, feeling jealous. Lucian was the perfect man; it just figured that he was already married to the perfect woman. ‘The pleasure is all mine, Dr Gervaise.’ Taren shook her hand, trying to think of something nice to say in return. ‘Please, call me Taren.’

‘Amie,’ she concurred, then turned to address her husband. ‘I’ve just notified Zeven that my team want to be picked up and the storm has cleared. We’d best grab them while conditions are good. We’ve got an hour of daylight left.’

‘Very good.’ Lucian smiled and squeezed her hand as she moved past him. ‘I shall meet you at the flight deck presently.’

‘Aye, aye, Captain,’ she replied in a playful manner.

Taren might have been imagining things, but their dialogue sounded like code for ‘Meet you in the bedroom in five minutes’.

‘We’ll speak soon, Taren.’ Amie gave a wave as she departed.

‘’Bye.’ Taren managed to keep a straight face and waited for Lucian to excuse himself.

‘Unfortunately, I’ll have to cut the tour short,’ Lucian began, ‘as I have to prepare for the pick-up of Module E.’

‘I understand,’ Taren replied, trying to hide a smile. She just knew he was fibbing.

‘What?’ Lucian was intrigued by her amusement.

‘Nothing,’ Taren insisted. ‘I’m fine, really. You do what you must.’ Taren struggled to suppress her laughter. Maybe she had space-lag and was overtired?

Lucian cocked an eyebrow, suspecting that somehow Taren knew he wasn’t being entirely honest about where he was going. ‘You really are psychic, I think.’

‘No,’ Taren regained her composure. ‘I’m not, truly.’

Lucian didn’t look convinced and now he too was suppressing a smile. ‘Feel free to explore, the locals are very friendly.’

‘So I’ve noticed.’ Taren nodded in agreement and baide him farewell.

Lucian, exiting the work cubicle, glanced back at Taren with a look of delighted query on his face.

‘I’m not!’ Taren insisted and waved him on.

The couple left a lovely ambience in their wake. That’s what true love felt like, Taren considered, and even though the man of her dreams was not available, it was kind of comforting to know that there was such a thing as a perfect marriage, especially where science and a relationship were concerned.

One of the glass tubes on Ringbalin’s desk was holding Taren’s attention. Atop a little mossy mound was a miniature tree. The amazing detail demanded a closer look, and that was how Taren came to be so close to the glass when the light suddenly shut down and it began
to rain inside the tube. The shock made Taren squeal and chuckle with delight. ‘That’s amazing!’

‘
Allocasuarina torulosa
,’ said a voice. Taren looked around to see a small-framed man with fine fair hair that was pulled back from his face in a ponytail.

‘Pardon?’ Taren hadn’t quite caught what he’d said.

‘Forest oak.’ He pushed his reading glasses up to rest on the bridge of his nose and pointed to the tree inside the tube.

‘Oh,’ she said, enlightened. ‘You must be—’

‘Ringbalin Malachi.’ He held out a hand to shake hers. ‘Looks like we’re roommates, Dr Lennox.’

‘Taren,’ she corrected as she shook his hand.

For some reason, she’d envisioned a big, broadly-built fellow. In reality, the scientist was around her height and had more of the physique of a boy than a man. Taren figured he was probably a bit younger than she was, but he had that quiet unassuming boy-genius thing happening.

‘Sorry.’ Taren felt she had to explain the grin on her face. ‘I’d thought Ringbalin was your second name.’

‘I know, it’s a mouthful.’ He sat down on his chair, which was built onto a track running the length of the desk. ‘Most people here just call me Balin.’

With a nod of approval, Taren tried out her chair. It moulded well to the body giving good support. ‘Very nice.’ She slid her chair the length of the track behind her desk.

‘It’s great here,’ Balin assured. ‘When I first arrived, I thought,
wow…
this is such a perfect work environment that there must be a catch. But there isn’t. I’ve been with the project for six years and I still haven’t found anything that would make me want to leave.’

He did look very comfortable in his grotty overalls and boots.

‘Do you like plants?’ Balin queried.

‘Oh, yes,’ Taren said passionately. ‘I did a three-year study involving plants.’

‘Then this is for you.’ He picked up the tube-tank she’d been admiring and placed it on her desk. ‘A bit of colour.’

The sweet gesture nearly brought a tear to Taren’s eye. ‘How lovely, thank you. I wish I had something to give you in return.’

‘Tell me about your plant study.’

Taren took a deep breath. ‘It was on morphic fields and biophoton emissions,’ she began. ‘That’s cell—’

‘Coordination and communication,’ Balin cut in, letting her know she could cut to the chase.

‘I was looking for a low-intensity electromagnetic field that could be orchestrating the growth pattern of the cellular body at a quantum level…weak biophoton emissions that were orchestrating the body growth. My theory is that these light emissions are the selforganising properties of biological systems from molecules to bodies to societies.’

‘Advancing the idea that a low quantum frequency, a light-field, might be responsible for getting proteins to cooperate with each other and carry out the instructions of DNA.’ Balin pushed his glasses back up his nose once more.

‘Yes.’ Taren smiled. She still couldn’t get used to people not looking at her like she had two heads and spoke a foreign language when she explained her work.

‘And you found electrical fields in seedlings which resembled the eventual adult plant,’ Balin concluded.

‘Yes, I did.’ Taren was further stunned, until she realised: ‘You’ve read my work?’

‘That system,’ he pointed to the tank, ‘is based on much of your research and some of my own.’

This news was also very touching for Taren; someone was basing their research on her work!

‘I have been measuring the different photon emissions of many plants,’ Balin continued, ‘and I have discovered that you were right. The living system must maintain a delicate equilibrium of light. Any excess is rejected, for too much light can inhibit the ability of cells to do their job. Photon emission varies from one living organism to another, depending upon its position on the evolutionary scale. The more complex the organism, the fewer photons being emitted.’

‘Meaning…the more evolved the organism the more light being absorbed and maintained by the cells of the body. Very interesting stuff, Balin,’ Taren said, most impressed.

‘Your findings on response to positive stimuli on cell growth…’ Balin kept the mutual admiration theme going. ‘…and the high biophoton emissions of healthy food have been invaluable to my work. So you see, you’ve already given me a gift.’

Taren had never been so elated in all her born days. Her hard work was finally making a difference to someone. ‘I’m honoured that you could put the research to good use.’ Taren’s beeper went off. ‘Oooh, that’s my analysis.’ She stood to excuse herself.

‘Drop by Module C some time, and I’ll show you my little oasis in space.’ Balin returned to his side of the room.

‘I’ll certainly do that,’ Taren assured him before heading back up to Module F where her quarantine lab was located.

Taren followed the same route to the quarantine lab that she had taken with Lucian earlier; she was sure there was a faster route there from where she had ended up, in the offices, but she would investigate later.

She stepped out of the lift at the rear of the flight deck. This control centre housed the pilot seat for AMIE and the navigation station that was open to the lift and the observation lounge behind it. It was here that Taren ran into Rory, who was waving a file around. ‘These are the specs on the atmosphere of Oceane, the planet you took the sample from. Lucian thought you’d probably want to compare them to your analysis.’ She handed the folder to Taren.

‘Whose sample?’ Starman butted in as he passed by. He took the pilot’s seat behind the huge semicircular console in the flight deck. ‘I was the one who bagged it.’ Zeven began flicking switches and punching in commands all the way around his console.

Taren knew the young pilot was just fishing for attention, but she played along. ‘Then we shall henceforth refer to the sample as Starman’s stuff. How’s that?’

‘That’s more like it!’ He worked the hand controls whereupon the entire ship began to descend.

‘Whoa.’ Taren froze on experiencing the odd feeling of moving without movement. She walked over to the large shield windows to observe the gigantic cloud-covered orb while they headed towards the daylight surface of Oceane. Taren could barely feel the motion of the craft in which she stood, although their speedy path through space was plain to see, and she had to give him his due. ‘You are elite, Zeven.’

‘There’s no point in doing anything if you can’t excel at it,’ he flirted, placing AMIE on autopilot while he left the pilot’s desk to duck over to the scanner to get a lock on their absent module.

‘He’s a bloody show-off, is what he is.’ Rory left, having seen it all before, passing Leal storming into the flight deck.

‘You could have waited for me to get here.’ Leal took up his place and Zeven returned to the pilot’s seat. ‘What’s your urgency?’

‘We’re running out of daylight in our pick-up zone,’ Zeven justified. ‘And since I didn’t know how long it would take you to drag yourself away from your girlfriend—’

‘I don’t have a girlfriend,’ Leal insisted. ‘I had a stomachache. I needed to see the doctor.’

‘Yeah, right…I’ve never known anybody to get so many minor ailments as you,’ Zeven teased him.

‘Well, Kassa is a very good doctor,’ Leal replied winningly, then spotted Taren standing by the shield windows. ‘Hello, Taren.’ Leal, feeling embarrassed, looked at Zeven to get a little of his own back. ‘Now I see what the urgency was.’

‘I’ll just be getting along,’ Taren decided. She was none too keen on being in the middle of their payback session and made a beeline for the corridor that led to the launch bay and adjoining labs.

The initial analysis of Starman’s stuff proved very interesting when compared to Lucian’s reports on the overall atmosphere of the planet.

Oceane was basically volcanic, but covered by deep water kept boiling by volcanic activity on the ocean floor. They had yet to find life on Oceane, nor did they expect to, due to the mixture of carbon dioxide and nitrogen in the atmosphere; without other productive elements it lacked the ability to create amino acids, the building blocks of proteins that are the base ingredients of all terrestrial life.

However, it seemed that within their sample of gas a primordial soup was being stirred, for there were traces of methane, hydrogen and ammonia, which did have the potential to yield amino acids and thus proteins. The spectroscopy report was all over the place, showing periodic bombardments of everything from infrared to x-ray and gamma ray wavelengths going on inside the great rainbow cloud of matter.

‘If this is correct,’ and Taren couldn’t think of any reason why it wouldn’t be, ‘we might well have the perfect scenario to witness the miracle of spontaneous generation!’

How life on her home planet had evolved was still a mystery, as scientists had yet to discover the elusive force that transformed a molecule into a living organism—or rather, they’d failed to discover how nature could have perfected this complicated process by accident.

It almost seemed as if this substance was performing the function of an incubator. Taren was now extremely curious as to what was taking place
below
the cloud mass.

The buzzer on the lab door alerted Taren to company.

‘Come in, it’s not locked.’ She looked up from her screen to see who her visitor was. ‘What are you doing here?’

When Taren awoke she was aching from sleeping hunched over at her desk. ‘Ooo-ah,’ she moaned, having a good stretch. ‘I must have been zonked.’ She couldn’t recall feeling fatigued or dropping off to sleep. ‘Now where the hell was I?’

Taren looked around to get her bearings and noticed that the arrowhead of her handheld FFRD monitor was bouncing at the negative end of the indicator, just as it had been when they’d first approached the anomaly.

‘Oh no,’ she mumbled, trying to get a grip on what living matter might be causing the huge quantum disturbance in the room. There was nothing and no one in sight. The entire crew could not cause such a huge fluctuation to register, so she alone had no hope.

She looked at the gaseous substance of undulating colour held in the transparent tube in the observation room. ‘It couldn’t be.’ She looked back to check the reading to find the needle drifting back over the zero, or centre point of the FFRD register and into the positive. ‘No!’ She glanced at the sample and quickly back to the monitor which did a little bounce in the positive.

‘It’s communicating!’ Taren gasped, and jumped back from the desk. ‘No, that’s impossible. It’s just a gas!’

‘Dr Lennox?’

Taren woke with a start, gasping with fright. She looked directly to the handheld FFRD sitting on the desk where she’d plugged it into a data history analysis machine—the needle was sitting dead still at zero point. ‘Oh, thank heavens.’ She held her chest, relieved beyond belief to discover she’d been dreaming.

‘I think you were having a bad dream,’ someone said. Taren spun around in her chair to find Lucian standing in the doorway.

‘Caught sleeping on the job, hey?’ Taren winced. ‘That doesn’t look too good, does it?’

Lucian didn’t look worried. ‘You’ve had a full day,’ he said. ‘If our sample is not an immediate threat, why don’t you get some sleep?’

‘I’ve got some very interesting information regarding—’

Lucian held up a hand. ‘We’ll meet at breakfast this evening,’ he decreed. ‘Just because a lot of people on AMIE are up at all hours doesn’t mean we have to be. Go to bed,’ he ordered, over her impending objection. ‘Good morning.’ He raised a hand in farewell. ‘See you at sunset when I arise.’

Taren didn’t want to go to bed. Her strange gas was all too interesting. ‘We could be discovering the as-yet-undetermined, elusive substance that has the potential to create an energetic reaction sufficient to transform a mixture of molecules into something with the basic characteristics of a living organism, and he wants me to sleep!’ Was there a connection between her field theory and this substance? By her reckoning everything evolved through interaction with the field. Could it be that this substance was just her field made manifest? Or perhaps this substance was an instrument of the field?

‘Questions that must wait for the morrow.’ She closed her folders, and switched off any system that was not needed. ‘I guess I have earned a rest.’ She yawned—her brain may have been on overdrive but her body sure needed sleep. ‘Now all I have to do is remember where my living quarters are.’

Out through the windows in the flight deck the only thing to be seen was the steam rising from the hot-water surface of Oceane fogging any other view. And night was closing in.

On her way to get some rest, Taren stopped to admire Zeven at work, battling high seas and zero visibility to lock onto E module and fish it out of the water. Lucian had obviously been distracted from his date with a pillow by the action. Amie and Leal were also present.

Zeven struggled with the hand controls, trying to line up the module’s hatch with the corresponding hatch on the bottom of AMIE. ‘These waves are really pissing me off,’ he grumbled, remaining focused on the targeting monitor in front of him. ‘Maybe we should submerge for pick-up?’

‘You’ve achieved dry dock in worse, Zeven.’ Amie encouraged him to keep trying.

‘There’re some serious currents that are going to cause you just as much grief underwater,’ Lucian added. Airborne, they had better manoeuvrability on their side.

The seals on the hatch were magnetic, set to attract each other, but with the rise and fall of the steamy waves, it was proving rather hard to get the right approach angle.

‘Sonofabitch!’ Zeven took the craft up with the rise of the wave and prepared for the next decline. ‘This time I’m in for sure,’ he announced, very determined about his aim.

‘That’s the spirit,’ Leal encouraged.

‘I’m going down,’ Zeven informed one and all, whereupon Lucian, Amie and Leal looked at the second targeting monitor at Leal’s station.

‘You’re looking good, Starman, hold it steady,’ Leal urged, although Zeven could clearly see how he was doing. Leal found that Zeven performed better when egged on. ‘And he takes aim and…he scores!’ the co-pilot cheered, as the hatches locked together and sealed.

‘We’re outta here,’ Zeven advised, engaging AMIE’s automatic pilot to take the ship up and into the outer atmosphere of the planet.

In Taren’s experience there was always something incredibly attractive about watching someone engaged in an activity they excelled at, as this was when many people were most in tune with the field.

‘You are a legend, Starman,’ Lucian told Zeven, before waving goodnight to everyone.

As Amie accompanied Lucian from the flight deck he kissed her. ‘Have fun with your analysis,’ he told his wife as they parted ways.

‘I might see you in a few days,’ Amie replied in all seriousness. She blew her husband a kiss and headed off to meet with her marine crew.

Taren sighed. What she wouldn’t give for a man who was willing to be a lover but then leave her alone to do her work for days on end.

‘I didn’t realise I had an audience.’ Zeven left the flight deck to speak with Taren.

‘Oh, yes.’ Taren felt uncomfortable being caught watching him work twice in one day. ‘I was just on my way back to my living quarters…I’m afraid I haven’t found a short cut yet.’

‘Well, I’m just about done here.’ Zeven looked over to Leal, who smiled and waved to imply he’d finish up if Zeven wanted to go. ‘I’ll escort you if you like. We’re neighbours, after all.’

‘Sure,’ Taren replied, feeling she had no reason to protest. ‘I’m still a bit lost when it comes to the layout of this ship.’

‘Would you like to get something to eat first?’ Zeven led off.

‘Um…’ She was a bit hungry, but Taren didn’t want him getting the wrong idea. She wasn’t on AMIE looking for romance. She was here to look for answers to the riddles of the cosmos. Still, they were working together.

‘I’m not asking you for a date,’ he clarified, when Taren couldn’t decide. ‘Just if you’re hungry.’

‘I am,’ she smiled, pleased he had cleared that up.

‘Do you prefer to eat alone?’ He entered the lift down to Module A.

‘Only when I’m working,’ Taren replied, foreseeing where the conversation was headed.

Zeven liked her honesty. ‘Then would you mind very much if I joined you for something to eat?’

The pilot may have been young, about twenty years younger than Taren, but he had ‘how to be charming’ down to a fine art.

‘Some company would be great,’ she concurred.

The food was good, the view was excellent and the company wasn’t too bad either. Zeven was proving to be a rather pleasant bloke: he told great stories, was fairly open-minded and had a good sense of humour. An hour after they’d finished eating Taren found herself still sitting there chatting with him.

‘I want to know more about the Powers.’ Zeven raised the topic again. ‘Which ones do you have? And how many are there? Has anyone ever had all of them?’

‘Everyone has the Powers to a differing degree.’ Taren grinned, shy of the topic. ‘And after seeing the way you fly these craft, I know why you’re so interested.’

Zeven grinned also. ‘How do you mean?’

‘You displayed one of the Powers during the pick up of the marine module today.’

‘Which one?’

‘Psychokinesis,’ Taren advised before defining the term to rid Zeven of his frown. ‘To deliberately change the position, form or elements of objects of a specific energy field, with disciplined concentration of the conscious or subconscious mind. To direct one’s will to act on elementary atoms of the third dimension in an intentional manner.’

Zeven scoffed, amused. ‘No offence, Taren, but what happened was just technical training, skill and a lot of luck.’

Taren shook her head to disagree. ‘I don’t believe that there is any such thing as luck, just the force of probability versus the will of intention. If my theories prove correct—and they will—genius and talent are just a greater ability to access the infinite field of creation. Our intellect, creativity and imagination exist due to our degree of interaction with the field and our ability to exert our will, consciously or unconsciously, over circumstances. The way I saw events unfold is, once you got determined about the hook-up, your will came into play and exerted your influence on the quantum field of probability in favour of obtaining your desired outcome. The fact that everyone around you also desired the same outcome would have contributed to the success. But as the pilot, it is your will that would have affected the outcome the most. The unified field is a reasonable force that usually favours the will of the most influential motivating energy.’

Zeven smiled; he liked what she was implying but…‘That’s going to be hard to prove.’

‘I have research data to support my theory.’ Taren was very confident about her premise, and whether or not anyone else believed
it didn’t matter. Taren was the greatest authority in the field of quantum fluctuations and unusual phenomena, and she challenged any fellow scientist to prove her wrong. Her peers were too afraid to test her theories, or try and duplicate her experiments, as they were afraid they’d discover she was right. Then they’d be forced to rethink and rewrite the time-worn theories that had been the cornerstones of scientific investigation for a long time.