The Pathfinder Project (19 page)

Dr. Simmons took a seat at the
table and smiled reassuringly at Adam. The elder Roh hadn’t planned on speaking
with her about Thomas until after the meeting, so her subtle gesture
significantly eased the tension he was feeling. He knew that she wouldn’t just
sit down and say nothing if his kid brother wasn’t happily tucked away in his
quarters, sound asleep. He quickly checked his watch and noted that the time
was 0659, one minute before the meeting was scheduled to begin. At almost the
same instant, the door behind Glen opened again and Captain Kaufield entered,
followed closely by Colonel Neeland. Each of them grabbed an empty chair and
Adam tossed two white foam cups at them and passed along the hot pot of coffee.

“It’s good to see that everyone
is ready to go,” the Captain commented, pointing almost immediately at the
donut box. He grinned as the baked goods landed in front of him and selected
the only remaining chocolate donut, then poured himself and the Colonel a cup
of coffee. “We have two basic but important items to discuss today: Deciding where
to go next and appointing a governing Council.” He looked around the table with
enthusiasm. “Let’s begin, shall we?”

*    
* * *     *

Thomas was lying flat on his
back on the bed in his quarters, staring at the ceiling. He had woken up almost
an hour ago, but was unable to move. He knew he was awake because his eyes were
wide open and he could hear people passing by out in the corridor.

What was in that last shot,
Doc?
He thought idly to himself.

Overall he felt better, but
he still was not convinced that his sleep had ended. If he wasn’t currently
asleep and dreaming then how come he couldn’t move? He tried as hard as he
could but nothing – not even a finger – would twitch. The voices of people
passing by continued to drift in to him through the closed cabin door…
sometimes there were adults conversing, sometimes he heard the high-pitched
voice of a child. Several times he thought that he could hear an infant crying
but he could not be certain.

The ceiling began to spin
and blur, then reshaped into super-sharp focus. He imagined he could see the
texture at its cellular level… then the room spun again and he was all the way
down to the atomic and then the sub-atomic.
Everything had such a neat
pattern to it
, he thought quietly to himself. The next thing he tried was to
look off to his left and right, still unable to move his body. He also noticed
it was really getting hot in the room.
Had he left the heat turned on last
night?
His eyes caught the colored stripes on the wallpaper border at the
top of one wall, and he watched them wiggle and dance like giddy circus
performers.

He had failed
, he knew that
much.

They were telling him that
his health was more important than his job, that others could cover for him and
he didn’t have to push so hard… but he knew the truth.
He had let them
down!
He thought of the military people on board, or the firefighters and
law enforcement people back home that had been given no choice but to face the
Brotherhood of the Dragon and deal with them. Most of them were probably dead…
had given their lives in sacrifice to try and protect the safety of others.
And
Thomas Roh?
Well, he couldn’t even sit quietly at a desk each day and make
sure his numbers crunched properly without getting his emotions so twisted
together that he was on the verge of an emotional collapse.

Was this a nervous breakdown?
Was this depression?

Having always considered
himself normal and in good health he couldn’t tell for certain, just knew deep down
inside that he had completely failed.
How could he go back to his job after
what happened and look people in the face?
He sobbed quietly to himself and
felt anger building in the room around him – the sum of anger from everyone on
board that had been relying on him to continue succeeding. They were probably
all laughing at him, but he could tell that beneath the laughter was nothing
but anger.

His skin felt parched to the
point of burning, and he suddenly had the sensation that hot, molten metal was
being slowly poured over him.
That’s it
, he thought fearfully –
they’re
encasing me in a coffin of melted ore
. It felt as if his entire body was
dripping with some sort of liquid metal – but without the pain. Then the outer
layer would harden as it cooled and the process would repeat, layer after
layer.
For crying out loud
, he tried to scream,
do I deserve to
become a STATUE?
No wonder I can’t move or say anything!

In his mind, Thomas decided
that he knew what they were planning. First they were going to display him,
site to site, all over the ship. People could walk by and point and laugh,
swear at him, or spit. It was their choice. He was going to be the poster boy
for failure.
Better get your work done, children, the parents would say
insistently, or you’ll end up just like
THAT.

When they were done with
him, they’d find a planet and bury him deep inside to strand him there forever.
No one would ever find him. He’d sit there at the bottom of some tunnel,
getting hotter and hotter as he burned his way deeper toward the planet’s core
and then they’d simply fill the passageway with dirt and pat it level on the
surface.
What the
hell
kind of way was that to deal with somebody
who had simply stopped sleeping – he had no control over that for God’s sake?
He felt angry most of all because with this kind of permanent solution there
was no chance for redemption… they just wanted to cast him off as a confirmed
failure and leave him to rot inside his metal shell for all time. He began to
imagine that there were bugs trapped inside with him, slowly walking casually
across his body, pausing occasionally to give him a quick bite. He hoped none of
them were poisonous… or, he decided, maybe he should
hope
that there
would be some venom in their bites so the situation would end that much more
quickly.

He absolutely couldn’t move
any part of his body and it was starting to scare him. The soft nighttime
lights overhead
seemed
to dim, and suddenly he sensed evil in the room…
something so dark and so deep that it terrified him horribly. He was trapped
and the evil was on its way to claim him… he could sense its approach from
outside in the corridor as it moved closer to the door to his quarters.
Frantic, his eyes bored into the door as he tried to mentally keep it from
opening.
What was coming?
Was it something dark and magical that
would capture his soul for all eternity, or was it simply something that wanted
to kill him slowly and then feast gleefully on his flesh and blood?

Thomas could feel his pulse
pounding and still he could not move. He struggled to sit up and felt very
close to success but it was still a no go. He tried again, his mind warning him
that his time to escape was quickly running out. Something hideously evil was
about to walk through that door and he did not want to be here when it arrived.
Fits of panic began to overwhelm him, and unexpectedly he sat almost fully
upright in bed. It took every bit of effort he had and lasted only a second or
two before he felt what seemed like an invisible hand press forcefully on his
chest and push him back onto the bed. Tears welled at the corners of his eyes
and he forced his body upward again, this time swinging his feet out over the
floor. Again something he could not see seemed to grab him and force him back onto
the bed.

A silent scream echoed in
his mind as he forced himself to sit up again –
the evil was SO close now
.
He landed feet first on the floor and ran for the door.
Was it out there? To
the left or to the right?
Thomas slapped the button to open the door and ran
quickly into the corridor, covered only in his pajamas. He turned to the right
and ran rapidly down the corridor and noticed another closed door ahead of him.
THAT’S
where the evil is – he knew immediately that he had chosen the
wrong way to run!

Reversing his course he noticed
two people he did not immediately recognize,, even though they were dressed in light
blue medical outfits. They were watching from outside his door and had started
down the corridor after him. He could not tell inside his thoughts whether he
considered them evil or not but right now his impulse was to run away –
anywhere – just get away from them. They caught him before he could start
running again and held him firmly as he struggled the entire way. He felt his
newfound ability to move fading away and they practically carried him back to
his bed. Something cool and wet touched his arm and then he felt the stick of
yet another needle piercing the flesh of his arm – they were medicating him
again!

Thomas had never felt so
pathetic in his life.
There’s nothing wrong with me, you fools!

He tried to shout the words
out loud but found he could not. Although he had momentarily solved his
inability to move he suddenly had no desire to try and run away again. It was
obvious to him that the medical personnel were standing watch outside his door
to make certain that he didn’t wander out into the passenger section while his
system was affected by prescription medication. He also wasn’t so frightened
any more… the utter terror he had felt for a moment was suddenly beginning to
fade, so he let his body begin to relax again. He noticed one of the medical
people adjusting the heat setting on the room’s thermostat and tried to express
his gratitude but still could not speak.
When sweat is running down your
forehead in great big droplets
– he thought silently to himself –
then
it’s definitely time that someone turns the heat down.

A few minutes later he was
peacefully sleeping again.

*    
* * *     *

“So…” Dennis said carefully,
carefully picking apart his second donut slowly and eating it a piece at a
time. “We’ve thoroughly discussed the issue of where we might travel to, and I
think we should place that item on the back burner for now. Let’s allow
everyone to think about it and we’ll revisit the topic at the conclusion of our
meeting today.”

“Which brings us to this
‘Council’ we’re supposed to set up?” inquired Adam.

“That’s correct, Mr. Roh. Our
ship’s charter was written as a supplement to our U.S. Constitution and
automatically appoints me – as acting Captain – to the Presidency. But I’ll
tell you right now that I am not eager to fill that role… not under conditions
such as we’ve found ourselves left with. I would be more content to serve as a
member of the new Council. So I’ll
begin
as your President, with the
intention of handing off that job to someone else down the line.” He scratched
his chin thoughtfully. “Twelve is a traditional biblical number, so let’s start
out with a total of twelve Council members. Are there any objections to that
approach?”

No one said a word. They all
just sat there and respected his decisions on the matter.

“I’ve read the ship’s charter.
It appears as though some of the key positions from around the ship are
automatic
appointments,” ventured Mary finally.

“That’s correct. Adam and Glen
are in, representing the Hardware and Software Specialists from the Lab wing.
I’ve also got…” Kaufield paused to review the notes in front of him… “Julie
from the Observatory wing, Mary as Navy and command representative, Karen from
our Medical Ward, Jeff from the Garden and Livestock wings, and Colonel Neeland
as our Marine go-between.”

“That’s seven total,” pointed
out Mary as she tapped the information into an active laptop. She was the
person responsible for meeting notes this go around.

“The automatics we just named
have the option to appoint two, possibly three more people,” continued the
Captain. “Which leaves at minimum two – possibly three – positions available to
be filled by civilians. Those people will speak for our passengers.” He nodded
to Mary. “Please make a note in the meeting transcript that the department
heads on each passenger deck should begin holding meetings and nominating
potential candidates. We will want those vacant positions filled by the end of
next week.”

“How about we select someone
from the hangar bay to fill one of our remaining positions?” Glen suggested.
“We could pick Nori or Mad Dog.”

“Mad Dog. Do you mean Andy?”
the Captain chuckled. “Now there’s a thought. No…” he said slowly, “With Mary
and me on the Council we’ve already got the Navy well represented. Let’s leave
Andy to run his hangar bay and Nori to keep the pilots revved and ready for
action… as soon as we’ve got fighters and longer-range shuttles back, anyway.”

“How about Father Dixon, the Chaplain?”
said Dr. Simmons.

“That’s a great idea, Karen.”
Kaufield responded. “We’ve all seen what the
Pathfinder
can do and I’m
not in a hurry to start ignoring people’s faith just because we’ve got a lot of
scientific study to do. I think having a spiritual presence on the Council will
greatly assist us in our decision making process.”

“So that’s eight. Do we tap one
more and make it nine?” wondered Julie. “Now that the CAS Drive is working,
we’ll be traveling further and much of the workload for exploration will shift
to the Observatory.” She shook her head in disbelief. “You should take a look
at just
how much
data we’ve collected, just in the short time we’ve been
out here. It’s really quite astonishing, Captain.” She shrugged. “If you want,
I could ask Kari if she wants to help out.”

“I don’t think that will be
necessary,” said Dennis, carefully thinking the matter over for a moment. “Like
you said, the bulk of our exploratory effort will shift to you and I’d like
Kari available to double for you in those instances when your schedule is
full.” He glanced over at Dr. Simmons. “Karen, I got an E-Note from Thomas
saying that you’ve taken him off duty for a while. Do you have an estimate as
to how long that will be?”