Symbiosis Chapter 5

“It’s so good to put feet on Earth again,” Tom said. “But I think that landing left something to be desired.”

“I love breathing real air!” Rianya declared and stretched in the sunlight as they emerged from the space port. Summer in Albuquerque generally was clear, dry, and hot, a reliable place for daily ships to land and take off. An anomalous acre of lush green grass stretched from the building to the edge of the pod-park area. Zalara took off running from the building across the field and tumbled with abandon at the far end as if she’d never seen grass before.

“I know how she feels,” Rianya said.

“Captain Jackson!”

The two adults turned back towards the building and saw their friend Quixote give a subtle wave to them.

“I didn’t know you were here!” Tom shouted, and the three of them met just outside on the cool green expanse.

“Rianya, you look as lovely as before, and Captain, you look rested.”

“It’s good to see you,” the woman said, reaching out to touch the smooth scales on the Draconian’s arm. He wore custom tailored short trousers of raw silk and a vest of dark blue linen that puzzled Tom.

“You’re dressing snappy these days,” he chuckled and tugged on Quixote’s vest.

“I dress for humans. You seem to have a need to cover yourselves in public that we do not.” Tom couldn’t help but remember his younger sister dressing their family dog in doll clothes as a child and there was always a problem when it came to its tail.

“Indeed, my friend. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to take you to the Space Administration.”

“Now?” Tom shook his head briefly. “Why?”

“Admiral Wallace has been anxious to get started. Did you not see your ship in space dock when you came in?”

“You mean the Maria Mitchell?”

“The Science Ship Maria Mitchell, yes,” Quixote said. “She’s a beautiful craft if I do say so, the first of the new Deep Space Science Ships.” Tom couldn’t hold still while this tidbit of information sank in. He started to turn in circles. “You’re not supposed to know that information,” Quixote added. “Keep that under your wrap!”

“How do you know?”

“I am your new Chief Engineer for her. I made some of her design changes to the rocket apparatus.”

“I could kiss you!” Tom shouted grabbing the reptile’s arms, “but I’m not sure how,” so he quickly grabbed his wife instead. “But I will kiss you!” He picked her up briefly, kissed her lips and set her down again, crunched his hands into fists and pulled them to his face.

“The Maria Mitchell!” he shouted as loud as he could towards the sky. A few people wandering in the compound stopped and turned to look but he had no care or concern at that moment. “What in hell did I do to deserve that ship?” he said, unable to fully accept his fortune.

“What’s so wonderful about the ship?” Rianya asked, looking from Tom to Quixote and back again. Behind Tom she saw Zalara running towards them.

“Quixote, are you sure?” Tom asked, trying to rein in his dignity a little bit.

“If they know I told you I will get a reprimand. I would appreciate your discretion--”

“Of course old friend, I won’t say a word, I guarantee.”

“Please?” Rianya said. “Tell me, one of you!”

“It’s the first ship to have fusion Electro Magnetic propulsion!” Rianya’s face didn’t change at first. Then she nodded and smiled and laughed.

“Oh, now I understand, the first fusion electric something, why didn’t you just say so.” Tom burst out in an almost maniacal laugh. “Oh, no, Quixote, is this the three moon eclipse again?”

“No, Miz, this is better.”

Tom spun around, grabbed Zalara and put her on his shoulders, and holding her feet in his hands he ran across the turf with her until they ran out of grass.

“Yes, I think this is bigger than the three moon eclipse,” she said. “Did you know about this earlier? Did he?” she asked, tipping her head at the crazy person running like a dog after a rabbit.

“The Science Academy was awarded a Nobel Prize for a new slip-compound they can coat the ships with, which repels micro meteors and allows for the stability of a gravity bubble.”

“Oh, well, now it makes perfect sense. Thank you.”

“You’re teasing me, aren’t you?” Quixote said. He cocked his head to one side, looking at her with one eye like a bird.

“If you want to talk medicine, okay. If you want to talk engines and space ships, not okay.” She reached out to the big fellow and patted a shoulder. He did his best to smile but for the most part, his expressions were limited to his golden eyes and the curious ability he had to change his pupils at will. Tom came racing back to them with a squealing girl clamped around his head, her mane of bronzed sorrel locks flying behind her like a flag.

“We’re ready to go now,” he said between pants. “I think we’ve been cooped up too long. Do you know when we’ll launch?”

“It’s her maiden voyage, so there will no doubt be a media frenzy which has to be arranged. I think it’s three or four weeks.”

“Weeks?” Riayna asked with a moan. “Three weeks, then back on a ship again?” She looked at Tom. He’d forgotten everything he’d said before about staying on Earth a while.

“I’ll make it up to you, Love. Let’s go!” he said to Quixote.

“Your belongings, sir?”

“They’re shipping ahead to Seattle, where my family is. You come too,” he said, poking the dinosaur in the chest. “My family hasn’t seen you in a long time. They asked about you.” Quixote stopped walking and looked at Tom.

“Really? Whatever for?”

“I forget, family is still a bit of an odd concept for you.”

“That your family would ask about me is the more puzzling idea.”

“Friendships, Quixote. You’ll get the hang of it one day.” The tall man, slender woman, little girl, and the two meter lizard wandered to the pod plats where a cab would take them to the bullet station. They soon found themselves headed for Old San Diego where the Science Administration and Admiral Wallace would be waiting.

After setting Rianya and Zalara up in a hotel, Tom and Quixote promptly took a transport to the headquarters. Above the double doors, engraved in the stone, he read:

OFFICE OF COMMERCIAL SPACE TRANSPORTATION

Although their upcoming mission was scientific, it fell under the larger administration of North America’s Space Administration and that was also an off shoot of the Air Force located in the San Diego building.

“Captain Jackson, we’re all pleased to have you to back with us,” one of the officers said to Tom in the mission control room. Several people saluted each other casually, without the rigid posture required in a traditional military. Surrounded by transparent monitors and holograms, people sitting, standing, walking, talking, and some paying close attention, Tom breathed easy and naturally in his prime element. “That was some nasty business that came down when you were last here.”

“To say the least. I feel like we were in a witness protection program.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard that the cure is working. The deaths have stopped, although there are still some sterility issues. No one seems to mind that so much,” Admiral Wallace said.

“So the malaria is gone and the population has stabilized.”

“According to the National Institute of Health and Center for Disease Control. All in all, the population fell to about four billion, although no one has actual numbers at the moment.”

Tom sat in a comfortable five-wheeled chair with a view of the bay and Coronado Island. Admiral Wallace, the physician general of the Space Administration, sat to his left, and two commanders he’d never met sat across from him. A steward came in with a tray of beverages and placed a glass in front of each person before he placed pitchers and napkins on the table.

“It may not be the popular thing to say, but four billion is so much more manageable than ten. It’s been an interesting year, people having more than one or two children,” said the female commander.

“You didn’t call me in to talk about last year’s news, so let’s get down to business,” Tom said. “What do you want of me?” He kept his glee buried so far down he wasn’t sure it would come back until he was on the bridge of the new ship. The female officer filled her glass with icy water and took a deep breath.

“Something very, very interesting came up,” she said.

“Captain Jackson,” the other commander butted in, “you’re still on active duty, you didn’t resign your commission, and your service and sacrifice are commended and as such you will be leading the next series of missions we have planned on the 270 to 360 coordinates trajectory.”

“What is the interesting thing that came up?” Tom asked. “Scuttle is a plan to stop at Eta Cass system, then on to Beta Hydri to pick up the science team from BH4.”

“We want this to stay, well, quiet,” Wallace said. Tom didn’t understand what could be such a secret.

“It’s Eta Cass' Planet Four.” Wallace glanced around the room as did the other officers that were in on the secret. “It’s um, something a Kiian research team found that needs to be investigated.”

“Are you going to tell me what it is?”

“Tom, the reason you're going to Eta Cass' Planet Five is that it’s suffering from a bacterial plague of some kind they can’t seem to control. At the same time, Eta Cass Four has turned up something… unique.” Admiral Wallace poured himself some water and took a long drink.

“Sir?”

“Kiians found a body, a human body, mummified in the sands.”

“No kidding?” Tom asked seriously. He sat back deeply in his chair. “That’s extraordinary.”

“No, that’s not what’s extraordinary.” The senior staff stalled again.

“Admiral, what in hell is going on?” Faces shifted and lips were tight. 

“The Kiians at the research station on EC Four radio carbon dated it back to about 1350 CE.” The room fell eerily silent but for an ice cube in the pitcher that broke free and rattled against the others just enough to be noticeable.

“Well, that’s impossible.”

“That’s what we said,” the female commander said.

“Commander White and I have been over the data several times,” the male officer said. “It’s no mistake.”

“How can that even be? Even at any age why would anyone go to EC Four? Isn’t it inhabitable? EC Five is the terra form planet.”

“Tom, it’s our opinion that the two are related. A dead planet with a mummified human, a living planet with a serious health problem.”

Again, no one spoke, but solemn people all looked at each other.

 “Although you will be getting your command papers tomorrow, we wanted you to be the first to hear about your new assignment.”

Tom remained calm in the face of almost any news. He took a sip of water and tried to appear expectant yet ignorant. He looked from Wallace to White, and back to Wallace.

“You’ll be taking over the refitted Stephen Hawking from Captain Williams. It’s a sister to Linus Pauling, newer.” Tom was ready to convey gratitude but had to carefully digest the admiral’s words. He stared at the woman, briefly, then turned away to look at the Pacific horizon. A cannon ball hit his stomach but he didn’t flinch.

“The propulsion system on the Stephen Hawking is of older technology than we have now, isn’t it?”

“I was hoping to put you on the Maria Mitchell, Tom,” Admiral Wallace said. “But the decision is not mine alone to make.”

“I understand,” he said roboticaly, maintaining his focus on the horizon. “It would make sense, however, to send a faster ship.”

“Perhaps,” Wallace said with a faint nod. “But the urgency isn’t ours. It’s the population on Eta Cass Planet Five that requested help. We can only get there when we get there.”

“They asked the Kiians first?”

“The Kiians are closer and more experienced with exobiology. They haven’t found a cause or cure, however. Just the carcass.”

“What are they doing on the dead planet then?”

“You know if it doesn’t involve commerce they don’t disseminate information, Tom. We can only speculate that the Kiians set up a research post there for more than one reason.” Jackson sat for a moment with his disappointment. This wouldn’t go down well for him at home. 

“When does the mission start?”

“The launch is planned for two weeks.”

“Is that all then, sir?”

“Tom…”

“I need to make arrangements for the voyage, sir, so is that all?”

“For now. You’ll receive a full briefing via electronic courier tomorrow then you can start putting together your officer candidates. Dismissed.”

Tom stood, covered his head squarely with both hands, and left the chamber striding through the door. When he was safely in the elevator he exhaled and leaned against the interior wall with the hand rail sticking in the small of his back.

He loosened his collar and tie, then his hands clenched into fists as he jammed them into his pockets. He took a deep breath and held it half a minute before letting it out. He didn’t know whether to be angry or disappointed. A wave of nausea sloshed over his head, glad he had skipped lunch on the way to the meeting.

So who would get the Maria Mitchell? He promised himself to find out, and why. He’d been in the stratosphere a few hours earlier, and now, well, he just wanted to crawl in a hole and pull the hole in after him. Rianya would give him hell for their having to spend four times as much time on the ship as he’d led her to believe. And Zalara would spend four years on the ship, growing up in artificial gravity, without regular sunlight, or social opportunities.

Quixote had apparently waited the thirty minutes in the HQ lobby for Tom to appear. He stood and walked toward the captain when he stepped out from the elevator.

“Tom, you’re hot, and cold, what’s wrong?” He hated that dragon’s infrared vision. Keeping anything from him, or Rianya, was like hiding an elephant behind a tree. Tom reminded himself that the old reptile was only concerned, not intruding, so Tom could never fault him for it.

“Two weeks, the Stephen Hawking.” Quixote followed Tom while he kept walking towards the exit. He pulled his hat off, shoved his fingers through his hair and stopped outside, turning in circles and waving his arms. “What happened?” he blurted out at the engineer.

“I don’t know, sir, I’ll see what I can find out. I imagine your wife will not like to hear about that.”

“Understatement, Quixote. And I don’t like it either.” The old dinosaur cocked his head. “I only had expectations about it for a few hours and now I’m so disappointed I can’t think straight.”

“You were prepared to take a K Class before I said anything; it’s my fault and I apologize, Captain.”

“It’s not your fault, old friend. But I sure would like to know what happened.”