5.
Penski charged up the cargo bay ramp, Muryah right behind her. She turned left and headed aft for the engineering station. The door was already open by the time she got there. She stopped suddenly only to breathe a huge sigh of relief a few seconds later.
Calloway looked up at her, but turned away without saying a word. He had the cover of his console lifted up and Penski could see the fused wires and microchips beneath it. A server robot floated to Calloway’s left. A wire stretched from its central panel to a small black box along the edge of the console’s interior. The ship’s artificial intelligence had determined what needed repairing and was transferring the information to the server robot.
“I’m okay, thanks for asking,” Calloway snapped.
Penski noticed for the first time that Calloway’s hands were bandaged with several wrappings of chryurylene, a standard compound used to speed up the healing of burns. She looked at her engineer a little closer and saw that he had some smudge marks on his face that appeared to be first-degree burns.
“What happened?” she asked, incredulously.
Calloway related the events right up to the explosion of the console in his face. Penski took it all in – rather calmly in Calloway’s opinion – and asked about repair time. She finally turned to look at Muryah and asked if lightning bolts were as common and dangerous as what Calloway had experienced.
“We did see several incidents like this when the Tomahawk was here,” she replied, nonchalantly. “But, I haven’t seen any like this then, until now, I guess.”
“If the AI and server robots can fix this, I suggest you go to your quarters and get some rest,” Penski said to Calloway. “When the others return, I’ll inform them of what happened. Martine can take a look at you. You might have a concussion. We’ll talk about your launching the probe without authorization later.”
Calloway didn’t answer. He walked past Penski and didn’t even bother to look at Muryah. He could feel her staring after him, but he kept going.
Once inside his quarters, he locked the door behind him. Then, it a fit of rage, he removed his cap and threw it against a bulkhead, cursing loudly as he did so. He collapsed on his bunk and fumed. His eyes zeroed in on the chronometer above his bed.
Six hours!
It had taken six hours for Penski to return to the ship. In six hours, the others should have been back as well. But, Penski was only a short distance away, in the forest. What had taken her so long to respond? He’d had enough time to get his hands and head treated, then go back to his station and begin repair assessments with the AI.
He began to go over things in his mind. The crew had taken a real shine to Muryah. They had listened to her words like schoolchildren to a teacher. They had all turned off the uniform visual devices. They had all been so wrapped up in their work that they hadn’t noticed his life function monitor going haywire.
No, he thought to himself, that wasn’t it. If they had been working, they would have paid attention to the life function monitor. They must have been playing. He had seen their faces as Muryah had told each of them about their specialties - mountains, the ocean, the weather, the plant life. His crewmates had become so absorbed in their own pleasures that they not only failed to come to his aid, but had failed to recognize he was even in need.
And it all seemed to be centered on an ill wind called Muryah.
Calloway said very little that night, save for brief responses to queries about his health. Muryah was not aboard, gone back to whatever cave she called home (another mystery that no one but him seemed concerned about). The others were too busy talking about all the wonders they had seen. Martine had shown Lee the beauty of the oceans and Harrigan had documented close to one hundred different types of animals around the mountains. Even Boronova could not stop talking about all the plant life she had discovered. Penski was sitting at the head of the cafeteria table, taking it all in with a big grin on her face.
“I think we need to take off.”
At that, everyone stopped talking all at once and turned to look at Calloway, who had been as silent as a corpse for the past hour.
“You want to leave?” Penski said, genuinely startled. “Is something wrong?”
Calloway frowned. He looked down at his bandaged hands, but stopped himself from touching the generous bruise beneath his left eye. The swelling had gone down considerably, but he could still feel it.
“Well, according to regulations, we have to launch an information probe every three days,” he said, finally. “Or sooner in special circumstances. In case you’ve forgotten, there is a ship with about a thousand colonists coming here in less than two weeks. They need to know what’s going on, but the lightning strike has seriously damaged the launching platform. Even the AI says it will take another week to fix, unless…”
“Unless we take off and leave orbit,” Penski finished. “Then we won’t have to worry about launching through an atmosphere.”
“I’m against it,” Harrigan stated. “We’re already behind schedule. Ye said so yourself, Mr. Calloway. Why waste more time? Or is there another reason?”
“Hey, don’t make me out to be the villain,” Calloway shot back, pushing his tray of food away. “I’m just following regulat…”
“Screw your freakin’ regulations!” Boronova suddenly screamed, pounding the table with her fist in a display of emotion that shocked even her. “I don’t care about your regulations. We all have jobs to do and we want to do them. If you want to stick to regulations, fine. But, I signed on to do research, not to be a military puppet like you.”
At that, she became embarrassed and sat back in her seat. The others sat in shocked silence at her outburst. Calloway was practically glaring at her, but more so for being yelled at and humiliated by her in front of the rest of the crew.
Calloway pushed himself away from the table and left the cafeteria. He still had enough military discipline not to light into her for insubordination. Even though Boronova and the others were civilians, they, like Penski and Calloway, were members of ISEA. They had signed agreements binding them to the rules and regulations of the agency. They all had their share of responsibilities, to not only themselves and their fields of study, but also to the ISEA and mankind as a whole. Their current mission was much too important to be jeopardized like this.
Penski caught up with him in the passageway. At first, he walked away from her. She then caught him by an arm and forcefully turned him around to face her.
“I’ve been seriously thinking how important you are to the success of this mission,” she said, sharply. “I’m of the opinion that you are a serious impediment to all of us.”
“What?” Calloway spat. “I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m not slacking off like the rest of you.”
Penski shook with anger. Calloway’s last remark hurt, even if it might have been true. Penski was in command and her engineer’s arrogance was undermining her own effectiveness as captain.
“Mr. Calloway, you are relieved of your duties,” she said, coldly. “You may confine yourself to your quarters.”
“Hold it a second,” Calloway snapped. “What the hell have I done? Boronova’s the one who snapped at me. All I suggested was taking off to launch an information probe.”
“Yes and proper procedure should have made you discuss it with me first,” Penski admonished. “Not bring it up before the whole crew. And let’s not forget you launching that probe earlier when you knew I had already scheduled a launch. Both of your actions tell them you don’t trust my judgment.”
“No offense, Captain, but you haven’t been yourself lately,” Calloway said and immediately knew he’d made things worse.
“It was against my better judgment to have you on as engineer,” she said, shaking her head in disgust. “I read your psych profile before the mission. Haven’t been too successful in the social department, right? Maybe you don’t like being bossed around by a woman. Or being shouted at by a woman. Or may
be you think Muryah is undermining your authority somehow. It seems amazing in this day and age that there are still a few chauvinist dinosaurs like you around.”
Calloway seethed with anger and humiliation. Was this what it was like with the Tomahawk? Had the captain of that mission seen what Calloway now saw, sides of his crewmembers that were not pretty? Certainly what he’d seen from Penski had been ugly. She had dealt a low blow. Hoping to keep at least a shred of his dignity, he turned and walked away from her.
Muryah returned the next day and it was like she had never left. The only reminder of the previous night was Calloway and he was confined to his quarters, though every now and then he visited his engineering cubicle (when Muryah was not around) in a show of defiance. Muryah made time to talk to each crewmember, but could never get close to the engineer. When she showed the crew her cave (according to Harrigan, it was more like a comfortable fortress), Calloway stayed aboard. When Muryah stayed on board for a few days, Calloway remained in his quarters. He didn’t even talk to his fellow crewmembers.
A day after Muryah’s last visit, Calloway was forced to come up to the cafeteria for more food. It was too quiet. It hit him that the ship was empty.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “They all left. What the hell?”
Angrily, he stomped up to the bridge. He only found a three-dimensional holographic video message from Penski telling him the team had gone out individually to make final tests and check their equipment. She expected everyone to be back within a few days.
What idiots, he said to himself. They should have, at least, alerted him so he could monitor their progress. He might have been confined to quarters, but someone aboard had to watch out for crewmembers in the field. Hating the rules didn’t mean getting rid of common sense.
After raiding the cafeteria for snacks, he went to his engineering cubicle and plopped himself down in his chair. It took only a minute to queue up the crews’ monitoring devices. As expected, they had all turned their uniform cameras off. Same crap, different day. He leaned back in his chair and looked up at the life function monitors…
…and blanched.
Harrigan’s monitor was blinking yellow - a warning light.
Damn it to hell!
He activated the radio and tried to call the rest of the crew. He got no response.
Cursing loudly, he rushed out of his station and went to the cargo bay. In less than five minutes, he had loaded emergency medical supplies into the remaining ATV. He put two server robots into the rear and roared out of the ship. After ordering the AI to raise the ramp and seal the ship, he had it try raising the rest of the crew and vector them towards Harrigan’s last known position.
During the drive, Calloway looked up and noticed a slew of ominously dark clouds looming. It looked a thunderstorm was gathering, but, according to Lee, the skies should have been clear for the next three weeks. Nothing about the past week had been normal, so why shouldn’t the weather fail to cooperate, he mused.
It took Calloway about an hour to realize what Harrigan must have done. His position was much further than he had anticipated. The engineer came upon Harrigan’s empty ATV two hours later at the base of the mountain, the one the zoologist had vowed to climb before leaving 505-D. During the trip, the monitor for Harrigan had begun blinking red, indicating a potentially life-threatening injury. It was still red, but it had stopped blinking.
Calloway sat in the ATV for a few minutes and hung his head. All sorts of emotions ran through his mind. He finally opened the ATV canopy and climbed out. Although it was a foregone conclusion, he opened the rear hatch and released the server robots while fishing out a small case of medical supplies.
He dug around in the interior of this ATV and pulled out a portable life function monitor. This one allowed him to home in on the exact location of Harrigan. Slowly, he began to follow the signal. He took his time. There was no longer a need to rush.
He found Harrigan thirty minutes later. Laying flat on his stomach, he crawled forward to the edge of an outcropping and peered over the ledge to the valley below. The mountain rose impossibly high from the base of the valley and Calloway wondered how high Harrigan had climbed before falling all the way to the bottom.
Even from a distance, with his binoculars in wide-angle mode, he could tell Harrigan was dead. Switching to maximum range for the telephoto option only confirmed the fact. Overhead, the clouds continued to gather and the sky rumbled ominously.
Calloway had to send the robots down to Harrigan’s body. There was no way for him to get down there. Even worse, the position of the corpse prevented the robots from positioning themselves to lift it back up to the ATV. All Calloway could do was have the automatons bury the Scotsman where he lay, if only to keep any scavengers away. Later, he and the others could return for a formal memorial, maybe when he came back to retrieve Harrigan’s ATV.
“Symbiotic, my ass,” Calloway muttered, fighting back tears. “This damned planet killed him. It and that ill wind Muryah.”
The trip back to the ship was long and agonizing. Calloway wished he had gotten to know the Scotsman a little better. Being by himself for the trip back to the ship, he had nothing to do but think about what had happened. His calls back to the Humboldt proved fruitless.
Suddenly, he turned the ATV and headed in a new direction. He had just had a horrifying thought. He’d been so keyed on Harrigan’s life monitor that he had failed to track the others. Harrigan had ignored the rules (and common sense) in climbing alone, but by no means was he the only one among the crew who would act that way. There was one other.
He only hoped he would be in time.
He wasn’t.