Aurona, page 13
Spotting an open manual lying next to him, Adam leafed through it. The sequence became clear on page four: a small, select contingent of medical personnel had emerged from their pods in a precisely-timed resuscitation schedule. Prompted by the ever-present synthe-voice, they read their manuals. Following its procedures and directives to the letter, they’d gathered next to his large pod to wait.
He chuckled at the thought. Like workers helping a queen bee from her royal cell, they’d swarmed around him to assist his emergence. “Man,” he muttered, “they were all helping me? Wow, that sure beats that first emergency round, when I was hammered awake!” He glanced down at his chest, probing with his fingers. Sure enough, the scab from the puncture wound was still there, right below his sternum.
A rapidly growing group was searching excitedly for his equipment, running up and down the hallways, their questions hanging thickly in the air. What had really happened while they slept, and what were all those strange crystal particles? And that net-thing that was stuck in Adam’s hair looked like nothing they’d ever seen! The riddle was about to take on a new twist.
With a shout, Elke ran past them down the corridor. “Found it!” he shouted.
They were on his heels immediately. He burst into the Pod Room, the group piling in behind him. Flashing a broad grin, he handed the explorer’s pack to Adam.
“Thanks, Elke,” he nodded, heaving it onto a table. It was heavy—heavier than he’d remembered. Maybe his muscles weren’t up to it yet? As he ripped open the straps, piles of crystals spilled out in a torrent, pouring out of every fold. They seemed to have infiltrated everywhere! He dug deeply, carefully lined up the four quarantine jars on a counter, and then turned to face the crew. Their wondering eyes searched his own for answers.
“Oh!” He held up a finger with a start, suddenly remembering a final piece of evidence. “My-my, ah, helmet,” he mumbled, bending over to look under his pod. “Where’s my e-helmet?”
Sahir answered with a question. “Your Explorer’s model, sir?”
“Yes, yes!” he replied quickly. “The big, oversized one.” He raised a brow. “How’d you know its name?”
She shrugged. “A diagram right here on page twenty-six explains them in detail, sir.” She leafed through it quickly and held up a picture. “Read it yourselves, guys! These e-helmets are fantastic! The chin-codes are there as an alternate to voice commands! The codes are more accurate, though….”
Adam cut in, echoing her enthusiasm. “Yes, Sahir, you’re right; they’re way more accurate! In fact, they’re almost extensions of your brains! You read system menus on heads-up displays inside your face shields, then either speak or tap out simple three or four-digit function codes on your chin bars.”
They murmured in excitement. The mood was swiftly becoming contagious.
“Um, you’ll recognize my e-helmet when you see it….” He paused for the effect. “It’s got a big dent on the back where something, um, something hit me!” Reluctant to tell all, he let the riddle unravel a skein or two to tantalize them.
It worked. They scattered like leaves in a fall wind. Sprinting between the airlock and control room, they searched with competitive zeal. “Oof! Hey, outta my way….” Their voices trailed off, echoing as they vanished down the halls.
He chuckled as he trotted after them. His deliberate hedging had resulted in the desired effect: a student of human nature, he knew that a precisely timed, provocative suggestion was far more powerful than an outright statement.
A sharp cry brought everyone down a side corridor. Elena was there, her arms outstretched, turning the badly dented helmet over and over.
Adam careened around the corner and stopped short. Elena? The Elena from Biozyne? When did she wake up? How did she know about his helmet? The word must have passed through the ship at light-speed! He pulled his towel closer.
“Wow,” she gasped, honest concern in her voice. “This is really bad! You’re lucky your neck wasn’t broken, sir!”
“Y-yes…. No! Um, thanks, Elena!” His heart was racing strangely. As she smiled sweetly, he grimaced awkwardly, finding himself gawking deeply into her eyes. They seemed to be unfathomable. He snapped back to reality and turned his battered helmet over, suddenly embarrassed at its condition. “Ah, t-thanks again. Thanks.” Smiling a bit too much in the tooth, he backed oafishly into an elevator. As the door slid shut with a muffled thump, his fist shot into the air.
“Yes!” he hissed excitedly, hopping in a tight circle. “Yes! Yes!” Suddenly, he saw his multiple reflections in the polished bronze panels all around him.
“No!” he gasped, shocked at his appearance. His eyes rolled heavenward. “No! No!” Awkwardly slicking down his wild-looking hair, he muttered angrily. “What a specimen! No wonder she was worried that I almost cracked my knuckehead!” As the elevator neared the starship’s control center, he forced himself to calm down and think objectively. “But wait, if this knucklehead had wimped out and stayed inside the ship, everyone would’ve been dinner!” He gulped. “Including … her!”
A sudden flash of inspiration came to him, an answer to his inner turmoil. “An assembly? Why not! I’ll get everyone together and I’ll tell my story! The whole thing, warts and all! They’re all dying to know what happened, so why hide anything?” Holding his helmet and towel tightly and pacing in a circle, he pieced a plan together. “Yes, I’ll show them how quick thinking and resourcefulness can be a vital link to their own survival!”
The elevator door opened and he slowly walked out into an upper corridor, his hand on his chin. It was a gamble. Would they take it the right way? Maybe. He’d inspire them how to use their brains instead of panicking…. He stopped short, his eyes widening at another sudden flash of inspiration. “Hold on! There’s that other amazing message, my gift out of the blue!”
The gift was really different, even in the way it was delivered. A few days before his departure, he happened to glance outside his penthouse windows to see a small brown cardboard box lying on the balcony. Initially afraid to touch it and pondering how it could have possibly gotten there, he noticed some sketchy runes penciled along one edge. He bent down and translated them: ‘Special Delivery.’
Deliberating a moment, he shrugged and opened it. There was a holo-recording inside with a runic note explaining that it was from some friends of his grandfather. As he brought it inside and watched it with his little holo-viewer, the story drew him in and blew his socks off. He grinned. “Perfect! I’ll show that to the crew right after my speech. It’ll have much more impact! Now if I remember the Observatory’s floor plan correctly, it’s connected overhead to the….”
He paused outside his control room, startled. Someone was standing there in full dress uniform! His back was to him, intently studying his wrist programmer. He caught a glimpse of the man’s face reflecting in a monitor. “Ah, that’s right, my runner….” Straightening his shoulders, he entered, composed and in charge.
“Ensign Rico!” he barked.
Rico turned sharply on his heel and stood at attention.
“Thanks for waiting. How long have you been up here?”
“A bit over an hour, sir. That robot-voice told me where to look in the manual for my first assignment, then I got dressed and came right up…. I mean, after I spent a while studying the ship’s layout to even find this room.”
“Great initiative, man. Hey, I’ve got a job for you. Think you’re up to it?”
“Ready and raring to go!”
“Okay, I want you to coordinate a general assembly. That means everyone.”
The man’s eyes widened wordlessly.
“There’ll be absolutely no exceptions. The rest of the crew should be out of sleep mode by now. I expect them to regain full possession of their faculties, clean up in their quarters, and then meet up in the Observatory Room in full dress uniform!” He held up his wrist programmer. “That’s two hours from … now!” He tapped the button. “You’re dismissed!”
Rico spun nervously on his heel and trotted toward the door. Suddenly remembering his station, he turned with a snappy salute. “Sir!” He grinned.
Adam stumbled into his quarters, showered, shaved off a fine layer of peach fuzz, and suited up. His new captain’s rig looked sharp. Sitting at his desk, he drafted an outline of the assembly and memorized it, then satisfied, he gathered the items he needed and stuffed them into a shoulder valise. Seven minutes to go. Great timing.
His private elevator rose to the Observatory floor. As he stepped off into a long, curving hallway surrounding the central room, the crew was dashing by in various states of undress. Spotting him, they slowed down to a stately walk, tucking in their shirttails. He entered the cavernous hall, stifling his smile and picking his way through the throng to the far wall. Catching Rico’s eye, he waved him over.
“Good job,” he whispered. “Everyone accounted for?”
“Yes, sir!” the man said, nodding. “No stragglers.”
“Good…. Oh, wait!” He slipped off his shoulder valise. “Here, you’re in charge of this. Just, ah, conceal it somewhere over there, maybe behind that panel. Don’t look inside. I’ll tell you when to unzip it.”
Again, Rico’s eyes questioned.
“It’s alright, man, just wait for my sign. All you have to do is unzip it. Let’s just say it’s a surprise,” he teased. “You’ll see soon enough, along with everyone else.”
Rico saluted and left, doing his best not to bump the oddly heavy, bulging bag.
Adam punched a numbered sequence on his wrist programmer, then watched a remote mike telescoping out on the end of a boom on the far side of the room. It swiveled, searched, and then locked onto him. A small ping alerted everyone.
“Your attention, please!” As his voice rose over the din, an excited silence fell. The focusing mike worked great, following his every movement. “First, would everyone please step back behind that blue line on the floor?” They looked down and backed away from him in an obedient wave, like the outgoing tide.
“Thanks! Very nicely done,” he chuckled. “Second, there’s some really comfortable memory-foamish, squishy floor cushions behind those tall panels all around the room. We’ll be in here a while, so when you’re ready to sit, git ‘em!”
As they turned to study the panels, he raised a finger. “Oh, by the way….”
They spun back to him. “I’m sure of this one: what you really, really, really want is behind those two wider panels on either side of the bronze entrance doors.”
They spun back toward the entrance again.
“Our robo-chefs and bot-baristas have been awake for several hours, and they’ve masterfully whipped together some hot, gourmet coffee and fluffy, gooey pastry stuff. It’s behind those doors; just push on the skinny bars and they’ll open!”
The crew stood poised in eager expectation, but a polite, obedient restraint seemed to be holding them back. Did he mean … now? Suddenly, someone’s stomach growled, echoing in the big room like rolling thunder.
He roared heartily along with the crew. “Oh, go on! Get ‘em! Be back in twenty minutes!” Their tongues hanging out, they surged as one toward the goodies. He’d nailed it: they were ravenous after their long sleep mode.
“Now, where’s that function?” he mumbled, flipped through menus and submenus on his wrist screen. “Ah, there it is! Hope it works….” As he tapped out the sequence, there was a faint mechanical rumbling under his feet. He shuffled backward quickly. The blue line on the floor had outlined the edge of a great, semicircular stage. As it rose in silence, the startled crew drifted back toward him juggling cushions, drinks, and food.
Sahir reached up over the edge of the stage, handing him a cup. “Smells mighty good, sir,” she smiled, her dark eyes shining with the mystery of Arabian dunes.
He winked a big thank-you, sipped a moment, and then signaled for silence. When they’d settled, he got right into his story. He told it simply, from the beginning, exactly as it unfolded.
“Here’s the facts, guys: our ship crashed halfway to Aurona. I was awakened by emergency resuscitation with a massive dose of adrenaline directly into my heart. The ship wasn’t responding, and I looked outside. It was getting buried in a crater.”
He’d just barely begun, but his tale was already far beyond the crew’s wildest conjecture. their food was forgotten as they elbowed each other in amazement.
“I had to get out at the last possible second before the top airlock went under, then I got knocked out cold,” he continued. “Something big whacked me from behind. I didn’t remember getting up, wandering several miles, and then passing out.”
They were dumfounded. All this had happened while they’d slept?
He continued relentlessly, recounting the twists, turns, surprises, and amazing sights he’d come across. Reaching into his pockets, he yanked out his sketch pad, fragments of fronds and chunks of obelisk shell, offering them as undeniable proof. In a surprise to everyone, he passed them all down into the crowd. As their wondering hands touched, squeezed, and folded the specimens, his quick pencil sketches in the pad gave them an accurate visual.
He was far from over; the incredible tale continued to unravel. Their eyes widened when he told them how he’d thrown his own fears aside to climb the fearsome Obelisk creature, and then jumped eight hundred feet from the top like a skydiver. Their jaws dropped in disbelief when he revealed how he’d constructed a mathematical spiral inside his face shield and then tilted it in perspective to match the terrain. Was that feature really possible with their e-helmets?
When he revealed the ultimate goal of his far-reaching resourcefulness and used the force of the wind itself to dig out their ship, they sat in awe of their young leader’s sparkling ingenuity, calculated risk-taking, and raw courage. This was crazy stuff! Their interest quickly budded into respect, then blossomed into admiration.
As he described the final scenes, many were clenching their fists in fear and excitement: megawatts of electricity were jamming the ship’s main controls and stopping it from pulling away! He confessed that he was totally frustrated, then suddenly remembered that his e-helmet had navigation controls, too!
Abruptly reversing thrust, he dove toward the massive, towering Obelisk, crashed the ship into its very nostrils, and then shrouded in a cloud of crystals, streaked toward the horizon. In a quiet voice, he summed it up: he’d lost his memory, he was traumatized and exhausted, but his long ordeal was over. They were all free.
They leaped to their feet in a wild, standing ovation. He’d given no apologies, no puffery, just truth. They all felt it now, that elusive bond of unity, gratitude, and trust. Why, they owed their very lives to him!
His face beaming, Adam leaned over the edge of the stage to return a forest of eager high fives. As he’d hoped, the ‘moment’ was here. Perfect. Time for part two. He raised his voice.
“I want all of you to display similar initiative!” he shouted over the din. “Use your gifts!” The tumult slowly died down and they settled back onto their cushions. “For instance!” As everyone looked up expectantly, he looked out over the sea of faces, searching. “You, there!” he pointed.
A set of started eyes blinked.
“Well, stand up!”
A young man rose and stood, his feet slightly apart, his arms folded. He had the appearance of a coiled spring, superb in musculature and keenly alive.
“Come up here!” As he gestured to a spot next to him, he touched a virtual button on his wrist programmer’s screen. A set of panels along the edge of the stage slid away smoothly to reveal a hidden set of stairs. The man lithely picked his way through the crowd and bounded toward him.
He continued. “Now, way back! And I’m talking way, way back, before we embarked on this epic journey seven hundred years ago. Remember your interviews? I know that most of you had doubts about yourselves on that day. Of course you did. How and why you were chosen, what hidden qualities did you have beyond thousands of others that helped me select you as one of my crew?”
Tentative, reflective smiles of agreement lit up. He was right.
He paused, raising a loosely packed sheaf of paper high over his head. “This mess represents someone’s résumé! True, it did play a minor role in my decision, but….” He released it in a blizzard and let it flutter to the floor. “It wasn’t so much what you accomplished or who you were….” Looks of incredulity greeted him: Where was he going with this train of thought? “It is, and always will be…,” intrigued, they leaned forward as one, “who you are!” he concluded.
There. They were in the palm of his hand. “This guy,” he pointed, “came to my attention as he was leaving his first interview with me! Leaving, mind you! He was actually walking out of the room! He simply stopped to pick up…,” he stooped to the floor and retrieved one of the fallen sheaves, “a piece of paper!” He wadded it into a ball and tossed it into a nearby basket. “Big deal, you say? No, not to me: twenty-six others before him just walked over it!”
The young man stood riveted, his face flushed in embarrassment. “Kron!” As he stopped short in front of him, the man looked up in surprise. “Yes, of course I know your name,” he chuckled, then turned aside to the crew. “Don’t hold me to it, guys, but I think I know all your names. As your captain and leader, I need to to count on each of you for your unique abilities.”
He bent toward them, lowering his voice and speaking confidentially. “Hey, listen guys. Although this journey is still a mission of mystery, I promise I’ll do my best to make it an unprecedented time of fun and true exploration.”
As they began to stir excitedly, he held up his hands in admonition. “Remember, I’m not complete. We need each other to survive, right? Your job is to be my hands, eyes and ears, and yes, in many circumstances, extensions of my brain!”
