Mazer was on his hands and knees, his shirt soaked in sweat, his arms and legs trembling.
"We're done, Mazer," said Wit. He typed a command onto the front of Mazer's crown. The device loosened and came free in Wit's hand.
Mazer's voice was weak. "So soon? I was starting to enjoy this."
"We've gone long enough," said Wit.
"I didn't break, O'Toole."
"You didn't break. Very good."
"Could you really have caused permanent neurological damage?" asked Mazer.
"No," said Wit. "That was a bluff. The device doesn't damage tissue. It simply overrides your pain and sensory receptors. I wouldn't do anything to impair you. You're too valuable a soldier for that. I was also bluffing about MOPs not having any oversight and being unscrupulously without ethics. Nothing could be further from the truth. Individual freedom and the preservation of human and civil rights motivate everything we do."
"Yet your bosses let you torture potential candidates? Those are some interesting ethics."
"Our enemies are usually murderers and terrorists, Mazer. They often require a show of strength and brutality equal to their own before they relent. My job is to find the men smart enough to know when brutality is necessary."
Mazer struggled to his feet, wobbling a little but soon upright and straight. "Well?" he asked. "Am I such a man? Did I pass your screening? Am I in your unit?"
"No," said Wit. "Because nobody gets in my unit unless they break out. Submitting to torture means you already lost once. You have to hate to lose so badly that you'd rather die trying to escape. And then be good enough to escape without dying. Anyone in my unit would have overpowered these two men guarding the door and escaped from this warehouse in three minutes. You just sat there for an hour."
Mazer looked back up at him, stunned.
"Sorry, soldier," said Wit. "You failed."
CHAPTER 4
Council
The helm on El Cavador was always buzzing with activity, but today the crew seemed especially occupied. Now that the Italians were gone and a week of trading and banqueting was over, the whole ship was in a rushed frenzy to make up for lost time with the dig. There were quickships to prepare, flight paths to program, scans of the rock to take and decipher, machines to operate for the miners below, dozens of plans and decisions and commands all happening at once--with Concepcion at the center of it all, taking questions, interpreting data, issuing orders, and flying from station to station with the nimbleness of a woman half her age.
Victor and Edimar were floating at the hatch entrance, taking it all in, waiting for a break in the chaos to approach Concepcion about the alien spacecraft Edimar had found. From the look of things, it didn't seem like they were going to get that chance any time soon.
"Maybe we should come back some other time," said Edimar. "She seems busy."
"Nothing is more important than this, Mar," said Victor. "Believe me, she'll be glad we interrupted."
Victor turned on his greaves, allowed his feet to descend to the floor, and crossed the room toward Concepcion, who had anchored at the holotable with a group of crewmen.
Dreo, one of the navigators, a big man in his fifties, stepped in front of Victor and lightly put a hand on Victor's chest, stopping him. "Whoa, whoa. Where you headed, Vico?"
Victor sighed inside. Dreo fancied himself second in command, even though that position was officially held by Victor's uncle Selmo. Victor gestured back to Edimar, who hadn't moved from her spot by the hatch. "Edimar and I need to speak with Concepcion immediately. It's urgent."
"Concepcion is not to be disturbed," said Dreo. "We're almost at the lump."
"This is more important than the lump," said Victor.
Dreo smiled sardonically. "Really? What is it?"
"I'd rather speak to Concepcion directly, if you don't mind. It's an emergency." He made a move to go around Dreo, but the man put his hand out again and stopped Victor a second time.
"What kind of emergency? A leak, a fire, a severed limb? Because it better be life-threatening if you're going to bother the captain right now."
"Call it a very unique emergency," said Victor.
"Tell you what," said Dreo. "You and Edimar go wait in Concepcion's office while I relay your message to her. She'll come the moment she can." Dreo turned back to the system chart on his screen.
Victor didn't move.
After a moment, Dreo sighed and turned back to him. "You haven't gone to the office yet, Vico."
"And I won't until I see you relay my message or you get out of my way."
Dreo looked annoyed. "You are all kinds of trouble today, aren't you?"
He was referring to Janda, of course. As a member of the Council, Dreo would know everything. Victor remained where he was and said nothing.
Dreo grunted, turned away from his charts, and moved to Concepcion. He tapped her on the shoulder, and they spoke in hushed tones. Concepcion made eye contact with Victor then looked toward the hatch at Edimar. She gave Dreo brief instructions that Victor couldn't hear then returned her attention to the holotable.
Dreo came back with a triumphant smile. "You're to wait in her office like I told you."
"Did you tell her it was an emergency?"
"Yes." Dreo raised a hand, gesturing to the office. "Now go."
Victor motioned for Edimar, and they both made their way to the office. It was the second time Victor had been ushered into this room today--though the meeting with Concepcion that morning about Janda's departure already felt like a distant memory.
"What if it turns out to be nothing?" said Edimar. "What if it's just a glitch in the system? That's the most likely explanation. That's far more probable than it being an alien spacecraft or a secret, corporate near-lightspeed ship."
"You went over the data several times, Edimar. If you're wrong, and it's nothing, which it isn't, then coming to Concepcion was still the right thing to do. She'll appreciate you bringing it to her attention. You won't be scolded for doing your job."
"Not by Concepcion maybe. But my father will be furious."
"It's not too late to go to your father first, Mar."
She shook her head. "No. This is right. Concepcion first."
They had been over this already. Edimar was convinced that if she went first to Toron, her father, he would either sit on the data to review it later or he would dismiss the whole thing outright. Victor seriously doubted that Toron would be dismissive in the face of so much overwhelming evidence, yet Edimar had been adamant. "You don't know him, Vico."
She was wrong on that. Victor did know her father. Toron was Janda's father as well. But Victor wasn't going to argue the point.
Going to Concepcion now, Edimar believed, would cause the least friction between her and her father in the long run. If Edimar ended up being right, then the immediacy of the situation could excuse her skipping Toron and going directly to Concepcion. But if Edimar went to Toron first and got rejected, she would then feel a moral obligation to circumvent her father and go to Concepcion anyway. Edimar had talked herself through every scenario until Victor was pink in the face. It was an alien ship, for crying out loud. One that could potentially be headed to Earth. Are we honestly going to worry about hurting Toron's feelings?
"Concepcion can read the data herself, Mar," said Victor. "Let her look at it and decide what it means."
They waited for ten minutes. Finally Selmo, Victor's uncle and Concepcion's true second in command, floated into the room. "Concepcion will see you, but she asks that you meet her in the greenhouse."
Victor thought that odd. The greenhouse was humid and cramped and a terrible place to meet. "Why not in her office?"
Selmo shrugged, but Victor could tell from Selmo's expression and by the way he glanced at Edimar that he did know, or that at least he suspected. It then dawned on Victor what Selmo must be thinking: Selmo was a member of the Council, and here Victor was with Janda's younger sister asking to meet with Concepcion mere hours afte
r Janda's departure. The natural assumption would be that this had something to do with Janda. But what? That Victor and Edimar were demanding her return? That was lunacy. Victor would never reveal his love for Janda to Edimar. That would be unthinkable. He and Edimar could never be allies in that, and Victor would never want to attempt it anyway.
But Selmo didn't know that. He merely saw a brokenhearted boy and the departed girl's feisty little sister and jumped to the wrong conclusion. Apparently Concepcion had as well. Meeting in the greenhouse was her way of being cautious. There they would be far from the eyes and ears of everyone else in case this was about Janda.
This is what my life will be like if I stay here, Victor realized. No one on the Council will ever look at me without seeing Janda also.
"The Eye detected something," said Victor. "That's why we need to see Concepcion."
Selmo seemed momentarily relieved until he understood the full implication. He turned to Edimar, concerned. "What is it?"
"We're not sure," said Victor. "We're hoping Concepcion will know. It may be nothing. No cause for alarm. Don't tell anyone. We just want to be sure. Thanks for your help." He launched out of the room and made his way down the corridor toward the greenhouse.
Edimar caught up to him, annoyed. "Why'd you go blabbering to Selmo? Now everyone will know I saw something."
"Selmo will stay quiet. And everyone will know soon enough anyway."
"Not if Concepcion says it's nothing! There's a chance I'm wrong, Vico. And if I am, I could have forgotten the whole thing and nobody would have been the wiser. Now my father will definitely find out."
Victor caught himself on a bulkhead and stopped to face her. "First, it is something. We've established that. Let's stop questioning it. Second, if you want adults and your father to take you seriously, Mar, you need to put this concern about your father aside and think like an adult. Put the safety of the family above your father's anticipated reactions and do what you know is your job." He hadn't meant it to sound like a rebuke, but it had come out that way.
"You're right," said Edimar. "Of course you're right."
Victor felt the tiniest pang of guilt then. He had put an end to Selmo's misconception but by doing so he had made it possible for Toron to find out through the wrong channels. But what could Victor do? The alternative was far worse. Having Selmo or others believe that Edimar was somehow aware of or implicated in Victor and Janda's taboo relationship would be a devastating blow to Edimar's reputation on the Council. Victor couldn't stomach that. He wouldn't let the shame of him and Janda spread to Edimar.
"I won't say another word to anyone," said Victor. "I won't even go to the greenhouse if you'd prefer. This is your discovery, not mine."
Her answer was quick. "No, no. I want you there."
"All right. Let's go."
The greenhouse was a long tube four meters wide, with vegetables growing from pipes running the length of the room. The pipes took up every available space on the wall, creating a thick tunnel of green all around you. Tomatoes, okra, cilantro, sprouts, all with their leaves and bodies floating out from the holes in the pipes like seaweed. It was an aeroponic, soilless system, and although the atomized, nutrient-rich mists were sprayed through the pipes onto the root systems only twice an hour, some of the mist always escaped, and the room was always uncomfortably humid. It was also exceptionally bright, and as Victor and Edimar passed through the anteroom and into the actual greenhouse, it took Victor's eyes a moment to adjust to the vapor lamps. The air was thick with the scent of greenery and cilantro and the nutrient solution.
Concepcion was deep in the room with her feet pointed toward them, her body perpendicular to their orientation, waiting. Victor and Edimar changed their orientation to match hers and launched what was now up, deeper into the greenhouse. Now the greenhouse felt like a silo, and Victor could see why Concepcion would prefer to meet with their bodies positioned this way. They wouldn't have to stoop to keep their feet and heads out of the plants.
Concepcion was floating beside a long section of sprouts. Here the plants were shorter, so the "tunnel" was wider, giving the three of them more room to face each other. Victor caught himself on one of the handholds and stopped in front of Concepcion.
"I'm sure I need not tell you both how busy we are with the dig," said Concepcion. "But I also know that neither of you would call something an emergency unless it absolutely was one."
Victor looked at Edimar and waited.
"The Eye detected something," said Edimar. "A movement out in deep space. I've been over the data dozens of times, and the only explanation that I can see is that it's some type of spacecraft decelerating from near-lightspeed."
Concepcion blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I know it doesn't make any sense," said Edimar. "I hardly believe it myself, but unless I'm wrong, and I absolutely could be, there is something out there that is moving faster than humanly possible. I even showed it to Victor to see what he thought because it all seemed completely ridiculous to me."
Victor nodded. "It looks legit."
"Did you show your father?" asked Concepcion.
"Not yet. I've been manning the Eye myself today. Father is helping with the dig. Victor and I thought it best to come straight to you."
Concepcion looked at each of them before gesturing to Edimar's goggles. "Is that the data there?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Edimar, handing over the goggles.
Concepcion put them on and tightened the straps. As she blinked her way through the data, Victor and Edimar waited. After five minutes, Concepcion removed the goggles and held them in her hands. "Who else knows about this?"
"No one," said Edimar.
"I mentioned to Selmo that the Eye had detected something," said Victor. "But I didn't say what."
Concepcion nodded, then faced Edimar. "Can you decipher its trajectory?"
"Not yet," said Edimar. "Not at this distance. It's too far out."
"Assuming its trajectory was headed toward us," said Concepcion, "could you guess at how long it would take to reach us?"
"Not accurately," said Edimar. "Best guess, at least a few weeks but no more than a few months. The problem is I don't know how far away it is. All I know is that it's moving at near-lightspeed and that we can see the light from it, which is obviously moving at lightspeed. So it could be closer than we think. I don't know."
Concepcion pulled her handheld from its place on her hip and starting tapping commands into it. "I'm calling an emergency meeting of the Council. We'll meet this evening on the helm. I want both of you there." She pocketed her handheld. "In the meantime, don't speak of this to anyone. The one exception is Toron. I'd like him to look at this as soon as possible. It's not that I doubt your interpretation of the data, Edimar. I would have reached the same conclusion myself. But perhaps Toron will see something we don't. You did the right thing coming to me, but I hope Toron proves us wrong. I don't like anything that I can't understand, and I don't understand this at all."
*
Victor stayed with Edimar as she went looking for her father. He had suggested that she speak with him alone, but Edimar had insisted that Victor come along. "He won't be as angry with me if someone else is there," she had said.
Victor wasn't eager to see Toron so soon after Janda's departure. How would Toron react? Did he blame Victor for what had happened? Did he believe that Victor should have seen where the relationship was headed and taken greater care to end it? Did he harbor ill will? Victor would rather not find out, especially not today, with the sting of Janda's departure still fresh in Toron's mind. But what could Victor do? He couldn't hide from Toron. Sooner or later their paths would cross; it was a small ship. Nor did he want to hide, really. There was a part of him that wanted to apologize, a part that wanted to assure Toron that nothing improper had happened. Victor hadn't known anything was wrong. It had been an innocent mistake. That wouldn't change the outcome of it all, that wouldn't diminish the pain. But maybe it would bring him an
d Toron a little peace.
Toron was in the cargo bay, making repairs to the mining gear Victor had won in the trade with the Italians. It was no secret that Toron had always wanted to work alongside the miners, but his proficiency and training with the Eye had kept him assigned to the crow's nest instead. He was so absorbed in his work that he didn't notice Victor and Edimar launch from the hatch and land near him.
"Hello, Father," said Edimar.
Toron looked tired and defeated. When he saw Edimar, his expression turned to one of surprise. "Who's watching the Eye?" he said.
"It's on auto," said Edimar.
"You should never put it on auto unless it's an absolute emergency, Mar." Toron glanced at Victor, noticing him for the first time. His brow furrowed. "What is this, Mar?"
"The Eye detected something, Father, out beyond the ecliptic in deep space."
Toron gestured to Victor. "What does he have to do with it?"
"I showed it to him," said Edimar.
"Why?"
"Because I wanted to make sure I was interpreting the data correctly before I showed an adult."
"He's not a spotter," said Toron. "He can't read the data."
Actually I can, thought Victor. But he said nothing.
"Nor is he your teacher, Mar," said Toron. "I am. If you have a question about the Eye, you call me and nobody else. Victor hasn't been trained with the Eye. Getting his opinion is a waste of time."
Edimar raised her voice slightly, surprising Victor. "Did you even hear what I said, Father? The Eye detected something."
"I heard you perfectly," said Toron. "And if you raise your voice at me again, young lady, you will not like the consequences. Any apprentice on this ship would lose his commission with that attitude, and I will not be any more patient with you simply because you're my daughter."
"It's a spacecraft," said Edimar. "At near-lightspeed."
That gave Toron pause. He studied their faces and could see that they meant it. He motioned with his hand. "Give me the goggles."
Edimar passed them to him, and Toron slid them over his eyes. After a minute, he started asking Edimar questions, most of which Victor didn't understand: What algorithms had Edimar considered? What measurements had the Eye taken? What processing sequences had she used? What coded commands had she entered? After that, Toron's questions began to sound more like a rebuke. "Did you try such and such?" "Did you think to do this or that?" At first Edimar answered yes. She had tried everything. But as Toron continued peppering her with possible actions she could have taken, Edimar's confidence began to wane. No, she hadn't tried that. No, she hadn't thought to do that. No, she hadn't run that scenario. By the end of it, Edimar looked near tears.