The Solar Sea (17 page)

As Freeman scanned the website, she caught sight of a photo that made her heart skip a beat. She looked up at the pilot's console. Fortunately, Pilot was off the command and control deck. She debated what action to take next and whether or not to show the photo to Captain Jefferson.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she looked around at the stations. The ship was filled with the newest and best computers. The walls around them had kept them alive for nearly eight months in space. Even the ship's ergonomic design was pleasant, she thought as she looked at the functional carpet that covered C-and-C's floor and the design of the desk she sat at.

She looked back at the command console's screen and a chill went down her spine.

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Through the Belt

A month and a half out from Jupiter, Pilot announced the
Aristarchus
had entered the asteroid belt. He had Daryl LaRue make a slight course correction based on data Neb O'Connell had taken. “We've had smooth sailing so far,” said Pilot. “We have four months in the belt. Let's hope it continues to go well."

"Indeed.” Jefferson sat at the command console. Pilot started to leave the command deck, but the captain stopped him. “Say, have you learned anything about that coin we found on Mars?"

"Nothing definitive."

Myra looked up from her work at the biosciences console. “Pilot, would you mind if Lisa and I come up and take a look? Lisa's very good at seeing patterns—after all, she helped me see that the whales were speaking in binary code. Maybe we might see something that will help you."

Pilot pursed his lips and rocked back and forth on his feet. “I'm not sure what you could contribute at this stage."

"Even if we can't contribute, I'd like to take a look at your setup. It sounds fascinating."

He rolled his eyes. “All right, why don't you meet me up there in an hour.” With that, he turned and left the deck.

An hour later, Myra and Lisa ascended the ladder into the
Ares
launch bay. Stepping around the shuttle-lander, they saw Pilot sitting at a tiny folding table with a laptop. He typed a command sequence into the computer and a little servomotor adjusted the position of the laser relative to the disk. The women stepped up behind him, looking over his shoulder.

"I'm scanning the surface of the disk at different angles, trying to see if I can pick up any evidence of encoded data,” said Pilot. “So far, I haven't had much luck.” He pulled up a chart he'd made of his scan results. It looked like a child's drawing of a field of grass. “It's nothing but a noise pattern."

Lisa's eyes narrowed. “Can you zoom in on that noise?"

Pilot shrugged, then did as she requested.

Lisa pointed at the peaks and valleys. “If that was noise, wouldn't you expect the peaks and valleys to change height and depth? They look extremely uniform to me."

"But the amplitude is so low,” said Pilot. “And there's so much. Why, if that's data we're looking at, the storage capacity of that disk would be millions of times greater than anything we've ever built.” At that comment, Pilot blinked a couple of times, then looked from the computer to the disk. “It can't be.” He put his hand to his mouth.

Myra looked at Lisa. “Are you saying that the ‘noise’ is actually the data?"

Lisa nodded. “Looks that way to me, boss."

"Then if I understand right, what Pilot's just said is that there's no way this disk could have been manufactured on Earth.” Myra's mouth fell open.

"Let me play with this some more,” said Pilot. He looked up at Myra. “Can that translation program you have compare bits of binary code to other bits of binary code and look for patterns?"

Myra nodded, mutely.

"Let me read off as much as I can, then send this to you. Maybe we can match up some more patterns,” he said, hopefully.

"I'll take a look,” began Myra, “but this all assumes that the people who manufactured this disk speak the same language as the whales have been speaking."

As predicted, the voyage through the asteroid belt proceeded smoothly—at least to start. Neb O'Connell had detected no unexpected objects and asked Angus MacDonald to throw a small party in the ship's galley for Valentine's Day. Angus, happy for an excuse to throw a party, readily agreed. Neb asked several friends from the ship to attend, including Pilot, Captain Jefferson, and Daryl LaRue.

The party started out subdued with people talking quietly among themselves. There was soft music on the galley speakers. Once most of the off-duty crew had arrived, Neb tapped on a glass with a spoon. “Hello, everyone. Lisa, would you mind coming up here and joining me?"

Looking confused, Lisa stepped up and joined Neb. He handed her a small package. Opening it, she eyed the plain silver ring dubiously. “What's this?” she asked.

"Well, it started life as a length of spare conduit tubing from the shipboard machine shop,” said Neb. “Daryl cut off a small section and now it's an engagement ring."

She looked at the ring and then inclined her head, eyeing Neb. “Are you serious?"

"I've never been more serious. Lisa, I would like you to be the keeper of my ring.” Neb reached out, took the ring he had given her and carefully slipped it on her finger.

She smiled, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him. “Yes, I'll keep your ring and I'll marry you, as well."

A cheer rose from the people gathered in the galley. Captain Jefferson stepped forward and clasped Neb's hand as people talked among themselves and made their way toward the snack table.

"Captain, I was wondering, would you agree to marry us in the ship's hub as we approach Saturn?” asked Neb.

The captain opened his mouth to speak, but Lisa cut him off. “Saturn? That's over a year away. Why wait?"

"Why hurry?” countered Neb. “I think the ceremony should be held in the most beautiful place of all and I can't think of anything more beautiful than having Saturn in all its glory right outside the window."

"Well, I'd be happy to oblige.” Jefferson cast a sidelong glance at Lisa, “if the young lady agrees."

Lisa narrowed her eyes and looked at Neb. “First people married at Saturn, eh? I've never been one to stand on ceremony, but it sounds like fun.” She looked from Neb to Jefferson. “All right, Captain, married at Saturn it is.” Then she looked back at Neb, grinned, and whispered in his ear. “But don't think this is the end of the conversation."

Neb smiled nervously and stepped away to retrieve two glasses of punch.

In the back of the room, Angus MacDonald made his way to where Daryl LaRue leaned against the wall, his arms folded. Angus cleared his throat, but Daryl was silent and refused to meet Angus’ gaze. “I wanted to apologize for calling you a cheater."

Daryl started to walk away, but he stopped. “You put together a good spread."

"Neb and Lisa are good kids,” said Angus.

"Hard workers.” Daryl grunted. It was high praise. He looked around and was about to say something but bit off the words when he saw the look on the cook's face. “I'm sorry I gave you that black eye."

"Ha!” shouted Angus. “You wouldna’ touched me if I hadn't been drinkin'.” The two laughed and shook hands. “What I wanted to know was whether you were game for a rematch.” The two looked up when they realized a hush had descended on the room and all eyes were on them.

LaRue laughed. “Any time you are."

Angus brought out the cards and the two sat down at a table.

As they dealt the cards, Pilot thought he heard something. He stepped out into the corridor where it was quieter and listened carefully. He realized he was feeling a vibration more than hearing an actual noise. He stepped over to the intercom. “Pilot to C-and-C, is everything all right up there?"

"Pilot, I think you better get up here to advise,” said Freeman. Though still calm and professional, her voice had a note of concern.

"On my way.” Pilot took a moment to step into the galley. He whispered something in Captain Jefferson's ear, then stepped over to Neb. “Sorry to end the party early, but I think something's going on we need to check out.” Pilot proceeded to C-and-C with Jefferson and O'Connell close behind.

Neb O'Connell went right to the astrosciences console and spoke to Dr. Nagamine who was checking the ship's sensors. “We seem to have come across a field of fine particles,” reported Neb. “In the astronomy biz, we'd call it ‘dust,’ but I'd say that the particles are more like pebble size."

Freeman inclined her head. “Why didn't we see this ahead of time?"

Pilot chewed on his lower lip. “The distance sensors aren't designed to detect particles this small. We can only sense them when they impact the hull and sails.” He then stepped over to his console and ran a few calculations. “This can't be a very large field or it would have been detected from Earth,” he said. “I think the best thing we can do is ride it out."

"Won't these particles do damage to the aluminum coating on the sails?” asked Jefferson.

Pilot closed his eyes. “Dust fields are an expected hazard and the ship is designed to handle them. The sails are slightly oversized, so a little corrosion of the aluminum won't slow our acceleration much. It's just,” his gaze drifted to the rounded deck of C-and-C, toward the outer hull, “I didn't expect it to be so loud."

Jefferson put his hand on Pilot's shoulder. “Very well, then. We'll ride it out ... and pray."

Sitting at the command console, Natalie heard the quaver in Pilot's voice and saw his trembling hands. She swallowed hard and knew the time had come to tell the captain what she had learned about Pilot.

The pinging and vibration from the ‘dust’ particles slowed about a half hour after they began. Neb O'Connell checked the sensors and announced there was no apparent damage as a result of the dust.

"Thanks,” said Jefferson. Then he stepped up to Neb and patted him on the shoulder. “I think you have a party to get back to."

Neb looked down at his hands. “I feel like it's my fault that this happened, that I should have been here."

Jefferson took a deep breath. “It's not your fault, son. Dr. Nagamine was here and the sensors weren't designed to see the particles. Sitting here and sulking isn't going to solve the problem. You have a young lady in the galley waiting for you."

Neb looked up and smiled at the captain. “Thanks, sir.” With that, he stood and returned to the party.

Pilot agreed to take more watches in C-and-C while the ship continued through the asteroid belt. To Natalie, he seemed edgy. He would place his hand on the walls or on tabletops as though trying to discern something about the behavior of the ship through touch. Even though the external sensors reported no damage, Pilot would hover near the astrosciences station when he was on watch, his gaze flitting over the readings.

Freeman took the opportunity to ask Jefferson to join her in the ship's gym. She sat down on a stationary bike while Jefferson walked on a treadmill. “I've figured out who Thomas Alonzo is,” she said as she pedaled. “I think you should know in case it has a bearing on the safety of the ship."

Jefferson lifted his eyebrows but kept walking on the treadmill.

"He's Jerome Quinn's nineteen-year-old son.” She thought for a moment. “Actually, he's just going on twenty-one, now."

The captain stopped walking and was nearly pushed off the treadmill as the belt kept rolling. He hopped off. “Are you sure?"

Natalie stopped pedaling and climbed off the bike. She led him over to the computer that was controlling the music that played over the gym speakers. Opening a window, she brought up the file she'd found about the Quinn family. “This is a photo of Jerome Quinn, his wife, and two sons.” She zoomed in on the photo. The lanky young man closest to Jerome in height had the same wiry hair, the same angular features, and the same thoughtful eyes as Thomas Alonzo.

Jefferson shook his head. After a moment, he stepped back to the treadmill. He turned up the speed and began a brisk walk.

Natalie folded her arms and watched the captain from her seat at the computer console. “What's your assessment of the situation, Captain?"

"All we've learned is that he's about six years younger than we thought.” Holding onto the treadmill's handle with one hand, he pointed to his gray hair with the other. “From my perspective, that's not much difference. He's a young pup no matter how you cut it.” He indicated the ship around them. “Pilot may be a young man, but he's proven his abilities."

Natalie cleared the photo from the computer console, stood, and returned to the stationary bike. “Those six years can make a big difference in maturity, Captain."

Jefferson nodded. “What would you have me do? Order him to turn the ship around?"

Freeman shook her head as she resumed pedaling. “What good would that do at this stage? But we need to watch him ... maybe guide him a little more."

"He's a strong-willed young man,” said Jefferson. “He probably won't take to being ‘guided.’”

"But...."

Jefferson turned off the treadmill and held up his hands. “I hear what you're saying and I share your concern. I'll keep my eyes open and do what I can.” He stepped off the treadmill and poured some water from a dispenser in the wall. “In some ways, he already did what was necessary. He put you and I in command of this ship. That shows a maturity I've seen lacking in some much older people."

Freeman thought about that as she continued pedaling. “Why do you think he's using an alias?"

Jefferson shrugged as he sat on a bench and picked up two dumbbells. “The very existence of this mission concerned the president. What do you think would have happened if the president knew that Quinn's own son was leading the expedition?"

Freeman stopped pedaling. “He would have looked much harder at the expedition and probed much more thoroughly into its purpose."

Jefferson nodded. “Rather than simply send you aboard, he might have found a way to stop it.” He lifted the dumbbells. “Do you regret coming along?"