He Without Sin (8 page)

“What does this mean for our mission?” asks Mark. “I mean, isn’t this what we expect to find?”

David takes a moment to work his unconscious mouth habit before answering, “Last question first: Yes, this is what we, the royal ‘we,’ are hoping for in the big picture. Although ours is not the first mission to this site, it’s very difficult to predict the paths that evolution will take. So we can never predict exactly what we’ll find. The basic building blocks are there, and the last mission reported no unusual or potentially dead-end scenarios.

“As to your first question, it simply means that we have a lot of work to do. The bio area will be interesting, and I myself expect to be hands-on in there. Mark, your ground-based responsibility changes very little. We are going to be here for quite some time to repair, refit and replenish—I know you’ve heard those words before—with or without this confirmation. Some contact with the natives will likely be required for the mission, of course, to collect the data we need, but beyond that, we will have to wait and see what we find. The thing to keep in mind is this: Go by the book if there are any doubts. Please review the guidelines that all of you have received.”

Grigor apparently cannot resist saying, “Let me get this straight; seeding has worked so we are for sure farmers here to tend the crops, evidence shows some kind of aquatic and probable terrestrial animal life…”

Mark throws in, “Yes, by the way, some of the supposed trails or lanes that are not connected to those so-called settlements are very likely migration pathways for terrestrial herds.”

Grigor continues, “Ok then, farmers first and we are shepherds as well, tending to the flocks. And now I hear we are to be baby sitters for some primitive population. Let me do a quick inventory of my hats to see if I have enough.”

Sometimes it’s hard to separate humor from sarcasm with Grigor and this is one of those cases. David looks at Grigor for a few seconds but declines to comment. He takes a few more questions, but the team is generally satisfied that all is as it should be and the meeting breaks up. A few, including myself and Dylan, hang with Mark to see the ImRec hits.

______

“So. What do you think?” I ask, directing my question to no one person but to both Mark and Carol.

Dylan overhears and says, “I think it’s fantastic. I am really looking forward to this. I know we’ll be busy but what else are we going to do out here? I for one can’t wait to see what the natives are like.”

“Yeah, I bet they can’t wait to bash your head in, mate,” is Grigor’s reaction, as he is also within earshot.

“I don’t know,” I say, “I’ve still got reservations about ‘the big picture’ as he put it. Should we be messing with intelligent life? Or any life, really.”

“Oh dear, you should have been weeded out of the program long ago with thoughts like those, eh J-man?” gibes Grigor.

“I think the big picture directives are correct,” says Carol. “Although it’s an almost totally independent biosphere, it’s still arable land; it’s still a fertile environment. Think of it this way: It’s a good spot for a garden that just happens to be isolated and a long way from home. One has to tend a garden to produce anything beautiful or useful,” she adds, parroting the accepted line, “and this is one of our many gardens to tend. The results in other cases have proven excellent beyond doubt. You’ve all been to the Academy Outpost, yes?”

“Yes, nice spot indeed, the outpost,” says Grigor. “But do you really believe the Outpost started out like this place, doll?” I try to understand his implication, but dismiss it as another ‘Grigor moment.’

“What are we looking at for ground transportation, Mark?” Dylan asks.

“Assuming we get the go ahead and are set up on the surface, we will make do with two for starters; one is a small runabout, the other is a little bigger. It’s a workhorse and big enough to be called a transport unit. You’ve all no doubt trained in or at least have seen similar models before. It’s up to David and Wesley if we need to do anything more in the way of fabrication. Speaking of the devil…”

“Mark, I need to get with you about the ground images and what you’ve found. Can we do it now?” asks Brachus after approaching the small group discussion.

“Absolutely. Getting ready to go exploring?”

Brachus chuckles and says, “Yeah, that’s right.”

I still don’t have any warm feelings for this guy. I always get the sense he’s hiding something. David seems OK with him, so he must have some value, something positive to contribute, right? Whatever it is, I’m not impressed. Neither he nor his two underlings have bothered to comply with my request regarding their comms linkup and channel verification. We’ll see how that works out for them when they have no communication or data path on the ground.

______

In orbit, the ship has a different feel than it did before. It must be due to the way artificial gravity is handled. The famous hybrid system. Also I believe there are certain correction thrusts periodically. I say I can feel them, but Carol thinks it’s my imagination.

That Tracy woman sticks like glue to Brachus. I bet they’ve opted out of the ‘medical relief’ procedure as Grigor says, jokingly. Ha. Could be some truth to that. When I try to contact Master Brachus, it’s hard to corner him without going through her. I think it’s an intentional firewall.

No response from the Resource team triumvirate. Time’s up and now the ball is back in my court. My
plan is to make one last attempt to talk directly to
him or his whole team without having to involve
David. I can’t work out what the problem is. It’s not
a big deal; just do it! Is it possible he is a
technophobe? Hardly seems likely but in that case I
will bite the bullet and do it all myself. Funny, it’s
not the amount of labor—that’s negligible—it’s the
idea of not conforming to the rules and crew
expectations that bugs me.

I like Grigor; he’s a good one to cut through the
crap and get to the point. He questions everything
and gets me to thinking. Something he said earlier
triggered an idea that I’ve had before: How is it,
really, that our little mission is here to document
and help guide the evolution and development of
an entire planet? Talk about improbable. The same
sort of feeling of awe occurs to me when
contemplating many modern devices or systems. Just think of this ship as an end product. How in the
world did people, regular people like us, create
such a device? It’s just mind-boggling all of the
steps, the trial and error, the sacrifices, the insights
and creativity that had to occur and be brought
together to make it happen. Not to mention the
incredible complexity of the myriad support
systems.

Conflict

“I don’t have to take this shit anymore…” Master Brachus says to no one in particular as he gets up and walks out of his own quarters.

Stunned, I look at Dylan and Tracy, then at Lester, and they in turn look at me. “What the hell just happened? Is he coming back?” I ask, although I know he’s not. Dylan has a sober look on his face but Lester has a smarmy smile. So far I’ve had little interaction with him, meaning Lester, and I’m beginning to think I won’t enjoy having any in the future. “Do we wait?”

Tracy doesn’t show any reaction, but that in itself is a reaction, to my mind, when your boss acts immaturely. She and Aileen remain silent. I saw them share a quick glance, however. I don’t know why Aileen was asked to this meeting. Alain’s not. Both she and he complied with my request and neither needs to be here. I look at Lester.

“I don’t think it’ll be productive,” says Lester, still smiling. “Waiting, I mean. He doesn’t like the way ground communication is set up.” He uses his right hand fingers like a comb to slowly and deliberately rake his longish stringy hair straight back on his head. And again, raking front to back.

“Doesn’t like it? Doesn’t like what? It’s not set up yet. Is he not capable of explaining the problem? Or is this his solution—to stomp out?”

“No, I’m sure he’s got something in mind,” explains Lester.

“You’ve got to be kidding. Would you care to share it?” I say, at this point not caring to hear the explanation at all.

After waiting for but receiving no answer other than the permanent smirk, I stand. Dylan glances at me, and then looks away and down, apparently unable or unwilling to comment as I leave the meeting to find a place to cool down.

______

I pass by Carol on my way back to my station. “You won’t believe what just happened.”

“Try me,” she says.

I remind her of the issue I brought up in David’s earlier meeting and begin to describe the Brachus meltdown, but, before I can get through that, I see David waving me over into the meeting room. As I approach I see Brachus is sitting in the room. “Yes?”

“About ground communication for the Resources team…” he begins, motioning me to take a seat.

“Yes. It will take only a few seconds to set up, as you yourself know, once I get the required responses. Is there a problem?”

“There is. It’s a division of responsibilities problem,” David suggests.

“A division of… Ok, I’m lost. What is needed? The instructions are dead simple and apparently clear enough for everyone…” I respond, confused and reaching for an idea.

“It’s an IT function,” says Brachus.

“It’s what? All you do is push a couple buttons.” I say to him, and then look at David for support that I expect, but find none.

“He’s right, Jason. Please find the time to setup and test their systems for both comms and data, including their GNI units. You call them genies,” he needlessly adds, pointing casually to his device lying on the meeting room table.

Stung by David’s siding with Wes, I say, “Impossible without their passwords,” and look back to Brachus. He remains close-mouthed and expressionless.

David answers for both of them, “No, you can use an admin or master sequence to set up and test. Individual private codes can be entered later.” David pauses and looks away. “And one more thing…”

What now? This is getting ridiculous. I don’t respond, but instead wait to be informed.

“Please enable a secondary channel just for Wes’ ground team. Make it a private channel and test it as well when you do the other business.”

I look at David to see if I can catch any glimpse of emotion or other telltale sign. The lower lip bulges out, the pucker resets it. Nothing. Brachus is fooling with his communicator.

“Sorry David, but Wes, we’ve got the…” Tracy says, appearing at the door.

“Oops, gotta go, David,” Brachus says displaying his biggest, most genial grin while standing up.

“All right, thanks, both of you,” concludes David. He gets up and leaves right after the Resource team leader without saying another word.

I remain sitting for a few minutes stewing, tapping my fingers slowly on the table. We all have things to do I guess, some more distasteful than the rest. I finally get up and go about my usual business in an effort to settle my mind.

______

“He looks normal, but he’s not. I mean, he could visually pass for a mature adult but his actions remind me of a spiteful rude child,” I say to Carol when we are alone. “It’s incredible. I can’t imagine what hold he has over David. He ran right to David to get his way
and
David listened.
It’s stunning.”

Carol leans in and speaks carefully, “Not just David. You remember how he was shoehorned into the mission at almost literally the last second? He must have pull that goes above and beyond David.”

She has a point. And of course she’s right. But what is his game? And how high do you have to go to get this kind of pull? It seems evident that the compatibility matrix was not rechecked. If it was, there is no possible way the index remained the same let alone went up. I got along great with Big Steve and although I never had dealings with Steve the younger, he couldn’t have been worse than the greasy grinning Lester.

To Carol I confide, “It’s a shame how the Steves were booted out for this lot. With all we’ve got going on, we don’t need issues amongst the crew added to the mix. I am definitely keeping a record of this in my log; in my personal one at least.”

Carol nods thoughtfully but doesn’t respond otherwise. We both have a lot to do before landing, and agree to try to not let any of the recent events get in our way.

______

It’s a busy time. Tiring but exciting. Tomorrow will be the first trip to the surface! We are going down in stages as the base camp is set up and begins to be able to support us. David has been adjusting the day–night schedule aboard ship to match what we will find down below.

The darkness in my tiny quarters is, as always, refreshing. There are new sounds in the ship; no, not so much sounds as vibrations and small jolts. But, yes, sounds too. When you close your eyes and relax other senses seem enhanced.

I need to rest; the real meat of the mission begins soon. >Got the last Gleshert treatment and warnings from Vanessa today. David and Mark don’t seem worried; Dylan’s positively enthusiastic. Stepping out onto a strange world will begin the next phase in our adventure among the stars.

I am relaxing now but still awake in the darkness on my bunk. With my eyes closed I see again the faint deep blue light that I’ve seen before. I open my eyes to see if there is an external cause. No. Nothing. And I knew there wouldn’t be. There never is. Close again and there it is, faint but there. I can see it mostly at the edge of the right side of my right visual field. That is, it emanates from the edge but dims rapidly as it shines outward. It appears on the left edge too but much dimmer. When I look to the edge to see it, it doesn’t move with my eyes. It seems a fixed phenomenon. In spite of the dimness, the blue is not pale or washed out; it is a vibrant steady deep color. Is it an artifact of the visual apparatus? Perhaps the retina, in the darkness, as it regularly rejuvenates itself for another day, has this subtle but noticeable side effect. But why doesn’t it follow with eye movement? Or—can it be?—is the light really there? Yes. And what is it from? What is close to but behind the eyes? I have wondered—does the brain itself glow? Can it be that the activity of billions of neurons, endlessly processing, receiving, sending, storing, living, utilizes enough energy that some is lost through light as well as heat? This is what I must conclude: At the edges of the eye socket, a tiny bit of light leaks out from the vast assemblage of active living cells glowing like the core of an organic reactor.