STATION CHRONICLES II
HELLER AND BEYOND
By
Simon Kattenhorn
Timeline: Before "First contact"
Author's E-Mail: simkat@pangea.stanford.edu
SENDER'S NOTES:
Hello gang!
I'm redirecting this for Simon, who has conveniently left the country until the end of July sometime. ;) Send feedback to him at simkat@pangea.stanford.edu
This is another Station Chronicles story. If you have any questions on the Station Chronicles, or if you missed the first one - True and Consequences - please write to me, Kath, at ktate@intergate.bc.ca
Enjoy!
Kath
=)
June 1997
Station Chronicles: Heller and Beyond (1/10)
by Simon Kattenhorn
Chapter One
The mouth of the first year resident opened and closed in a rapid sequence of uttered words that were as fascinating as a detailed observation of evaporating water. The content of the delivery was not only uninteresting, but delivered in an unwavering monotone that had the majority of the audience battling against the increasing gravitational forces attacking each's eyelids. Falling somewhere on the fascination scale between banal and soporific, the detailed description by the resident of the latest developments in epidermal research by the members of his med-team became, in the ears of the listeners, an uninspiring drone.
As Julia Heller watched the flapping mouth, it took on a surreal, hypnotizing animation, until the remainder of the room seemed to gradually disappear: such as the fellow doctors sitting around her; the noise of the ventilation system through the room's airduct; the sound of the speaker moving from sentence to sentence without so much as a pause for breath. Even the speaker himself faded away. All that remained was the pair of pink lips, opening and closing, opening and closing, opening and closing. Her thoughts turning inward as her sight remained transfixed on the mouth in motion, Julia reflected on her station life, all it was missing, and how mundane the routine of day-to-day activities in the station hospital had become.
Sometimes it seemed to her that she had been snagged up in an indefinite time loop. And despite her efforts to escape, it always succeeded in planting her each morning back into the day she had just lived so that she could appreciate its pointless circumstance one more time. How many times had she sat here and watched prattling mouths spew out their inane missives, providing her with nothing of consequence to her life or career? She had lost count. If it hadn't for her involvement in the Syndrome ward and the Eden Project, she probably would have lost her mind by now. Her other activities in the Station hospital left much to be desired, and she was thankful that this would be the last seminar she would have to attend as a part of her duty requirements. As from now, her duties were scheduled to be devoted fully to the Eden Project. It had been something she had lobbied for from the hospital administrative board, albeit unsuccessfully, a long time ago.
Something changed in the room. Julia's eyes fell into focus and took in the motionless mouth. The background hum had stopped. The intern was gazing at the audience with a look of expectation, that was met by a sudden round of applause vigorous enough to indicate to Julia that it was motivated more by the fact that the presentation was over than what information it had conveyed. She brought her hands together a few times in a feeble attempt at applause and jumped to her feet. She had almost made it to the exit when she heard a call from behind her.
"Julia!"
She turned to see a dark-haired member of the audience walking rapidly towards her, an idiotic grin plastered across his face.
"Yes?" Julia met the man's visage blankly. "Can I help you?"
The smile vanished from existence instantly as the young male doctor began nervously shuffling from one foot to the other, reaching for something to say more profound than "duh".
"Uh, hi. Um...Conor O'Donnell," he gave a nervous second attempt at a smile which disappeared just as quickly.
"Are you part of Dr. Vasquez's team?" Julia asked with no particular show of interest at what the reply may be. She was surprised to see the doctor's face turn a rather unbecoming shade of red and wondered why her question had induced the man to blush .
Conor O'Donnell appeared to be having difficulty formulating speech. He became acutely aware of the mass of doctors exiting the conference room surging around them like an army of ants. Their heads were cocked just enough to make it apparent that this interaction between the young Dr. O'Donnell and Dr. Heller was providing more of an audience interest than the erstwhile insipid monologue on epidermal research. O'Donnell directed his gaze at the floor, as if searching for a convenient crack in which to fling himself.
"Er, no." Again the flash of a smile. There was no doubt about it, the young Dr. O'Donnell was attractive enough to melt the resistance of just about any living human. Julia's countenance, however, remained blank as she waited, with increasing impatience, for this congenital idiot of a doctor to get to the point. "We met at Portal Nine last week," he finally stammered, before returning his focus to his increasingly fascinating feet.
Julia thought back to her visit to the popular dockside restaurant and bar the week before. She preferred not to frequent such establishments but she had had her own reasons for doing so at the time. Of course, those reasons were forced into abandon by the appearance of a crowd of first and second year medical residents, including, she suddenly remembered, the very same doctor who was standing before her now, shifting from foot to foot, incapable of deciding whether to smile or stutter.
"Oh yes," Julia smiled wanly, radiating all the warmth of liquid nitrogen. She resumed her motion towards the door as O'Donnell fell into step behind her with sudden hope that this interaction hadn't degenerated into a worst-case-scenario after all. "Is there something I can do for you?" she asked.
"Do?" O'Donnell looked confused. "Oh, no! No, nothing really. It's just that...well...you see we, I, er..." He stopped dead, took a deep breath, then blurted out, "I'd really love for you to accompany me to the Station Dramatic Theater production of "Les Enfants Terribles" tomorrow night."
Having finally spat out what he was trying to say, O'Donnell directed his attention to Julia's face in apprehension, and was slightly ashamed at his contentment at seeing surprise shoot across her face, although the look was quickly extinguished.
Julia opened her mouth to say something, stopped, then directed her attention inwards in a palpable reconsideration of how to phrase her reply.
"I'm sorry, but that won't be possible," she resolved after a few seconds.
Offering no possibility of additional discourse on the matter, Julia turned and continued down the hallway of the station hospital towards the lift doors, as O'Donnell stared at her back with a mixture of confusion, embarrassment, and disbelief.
"Told you," came the smug voice of one of O'Donnell's fellow residents from behind the nearby ward information desk. "The Ice Queen goeth."
The lift doors closed behind Julia. She pushed the button for the Syndrome ward level and stepped back to stand in the center of the lift compartment, staring at the digital display of hospital levels flashing by. She bit at her lower lip and thought briefly of her encounter with the over-zealous Dr. O'Donnell. It bothered her that her time had been wasted in such a fashion. Especially now, when things were busier than ever on the Eden Project preparations. She pictured the young doctor again in her mind as the digital display of the lift continued with its programmed function. Dark hair. Piercing dark eyes. Prominent nose. Well-toned body. A real Lothario.
"Not even nearly my type," she spoke to the lift doors as they opened to reveal the hive of activity on the Syndrome ward level.
"No, no, no!" Dr. Vasquez rolled his eyes backwards as he directed silent epithets at the young nurse tending to a Syndrome patient in the ward he had just entered. "What are you trying to do, rip his leg off?" Dr. Vasquez directed an angry glare at the nurse as he hurried across to the patient's bed and pulled the annular massager from the nurse's hands. "You are clamping that *way* too tightly. This *is* supposed to be a *beneficial* treatment," he chastised sardonically while simultaneously demonstrating the correct method of adjusting the muscle manipulation device on the child's thigh.
The nurse shrugged unsympathetically and strode off to attend to his next duty as Dr. Vasquez stared laser beams into his back. It had become all too common in the remaining weeks prior to launch of the Eden Project that ward nurses' performance and treatment of the Syndrome children was perfunctory at best. It grated at Dr. Vasquez's sense of moral purpose. That anyone could treat sick children with such casual disregard was beyond his comprehension. It defied explanation that people's hearts could be so cold. However, he had become severely understaffed in recent weeks. His regular retinue of medical support staff now divided their time between preparing the hospital ward on the Colony ship, putting their own personal affairs in order prior to departure, and working in the Syndrome ward at the station hospital. Vasquez had been forced to bring in additional nurses from other departments to assist in the day-to-day necessities of keeping the Syndrome ward functioning. Additional nurses whose disregard for the plight of Syndrome-afflicted children was all too apparent.
Dr. Vasquez finished adjusting the annular massager as the doe-eyed patient stared on blankly. The doctor gave the child a big grin and ruffled his hair gently.
Vasquez checked the read-out panel on the wrist monitor of the little boy's immuno-suit. "And how are we doing today, Robert?"
The child responded in labored breaths. "Okay... I guess." The child stared across the room at the bed opposite him and burst into a short fit of coughing before continuing. "I'm feeling..." - more coughing- "... feeling sad today."
Dr. Vasquez turned to glance at the empty bed directly opposite Robert Ryan and immediately understood. Too many times he had witnessed this reaction and yet it cut to his heart like a knife every time.
"I know, sport. I'm real sad about Renny too. We're all gonna miss him like anything." Dr. Vasquez was distracted by the sight of a young doctor who had slipped in unnoticed and was standing off to one side silently observing the interaction. He gave her a gentle nod and returned his attention to his patient.
"Renny said he'd... be able to run much... faster than me when ... we get there," Robert said sadly. "I... I bet him a whole... week's dessert that I'd... make him eat my dust," he attempted a small smile as his thoughts wandered back.
"Well I bet Renny is gonna be right there when you run like the wind on G889," Dr. Vasquez tried his best to inspire some hope in the little boy. "Right there," he said, pointing to Robert's head, "and right there." He tapped his finger on the little boy's chest, over his heart.
He looked at the doctor unconvinced, eyes devoid of the joy and life that would normally exist in the eyes of an eight-year-old little boy. In the eyes of a little boy who hadn't spent his life in hospital wards, attached to machines and enveloped in an immuno-suit. Robert Ryan's eyes had the look of one who had witnessed a long life of struggle. Eyes that waited only for death to come.
"I really want... to run," he choked out. "Under the sky."
"You will, sport. You will." Dr. Vasquez stroked the little boy's damp hair and brushed the beads of moisture away from his upper lip. "I promise."
Robert Ryan closed his eyes and began dreaming of yet-to-be-experienced running as Dr. Vasquez turned on the muscular massaging device that began its pre-programmed procedure of pressure induction along the length of the boy's quadriceps. He stood up from where he had been sitting on the bed beside the little boy and walked over to the waiting doctor.
"He has a strong spirit," Dr. Heller offered.
"Without the body to match," Dr. Vasquez added sorrowfully.
Julia Heller studied the little boy's resting form and her mind drifted for a few seconds before she regained her sense of the present.
"If what you say about the Syndrome is true," Julia put forward, "perhaps his dream will become reality once we reach the G8 system."
Dr. Vasquez nodded, although the grave look on his face suggested his mind had moved on to other matters. His face had begun to show lines wrought from overextending himself in the quest for a cure for the Syndrome through the lobbying and preparation for the Eden Project. It was easy to see that the doctor had devoted every waking moment of his life to the fulfillment of this goal in the six years since he and Devon Adair laid the foundations for the Eden Project.
Dr. Vasquez had never given any guarantees of success. He had never adequately demonstrated scientific proof to support his hypotheses for the root of the Syndrome. But his had been a nearly singular crusade to determine the causes of the disease. Without additional research by other medical teams, there was hardly a choice of alternatives to consider. The Eden Project was the ultimate empirical test. All of Dr. Vasquez's eggs were in one proverbial basket, and he lived each day in fear that the weave of the basket would finally unravel and the dreams of hundreds of families would be destroyed.
"Dr. Vasquez?" Julia looked at him questioningly.
He glanced back at Julia with a slightly confused expression.
"You asked me to meet you at 1500," she reminded him.
"Oh! Yes, of course." Dr. Vasquez glanced over at the chronometer hanging over the admissions desk as he and Julia exited the ward, and muttered an unintelligible oath at the thing. There never seemed to be enough hours in a day. "Why don't we step into my office," he gestured for her to enter as they approached the office door.
Julia walked into the office and took in the surroundings. She had never entered Dr. Vasquez's office before, which wasn't surprising considering the fact that he was never in there. The office was devoid of anything that wasn't entirely utilitarian in nature. Desk. Chairs. Bookshelves. Filing cabinets for datadisks. Bare walls. The desk was crowded- mostly lopsided piles of old medical journals that Dr. Vasquez refused to throw out. "There's nothing quite like the feel of paper between the fingers and the sight of print on the page," he had once commented. It hadn't helped either that many of the late 20th Century journals the doctor had been referencing had never found their way into the stations-wide medical computer system. Most were deemed too archaic to be of use. However, Dr. Vasquez obviously felt differently, as many of his views were based on old-world medical findings. Which probably explained the poor to non-existent showing of support he had received from his medical peers.
Julia sat down to one side of the large desk as Dr. Vasquez eased himself into his chair. He looked at the doctor before him earnestly.
"Dr. Heller, there has been a slight change in plans," he stated bluntly.
"Change?" Julia attempted to sound casual, although she felt a momentary panic that she could not quite understand.
Dr. Vasquez nodded and continued.
"Dr. Jordan will not be able to accompany us on the Eden Project after all. His expertise is required in Lunar Sector Five immediately."
Julia nodded despite her lack of comprehension of the circumstances, and her mind raced to make sense of what Dr. Vasquez was telling her. Jordan was Dr. Vasquez's right-hand man in the Colony Hospital Preparations Unit. Why on Earth would he suddenly be accepting assignments to the Lunar colonies when the Eden Project was so close to departure?
"I have tried in vain to persuade Dr. Jordan to reconsider. He seems quite adamant about staying behind when the Eden Project departs. I'm not sure what exactly is behind this sudden change of heart, but I wouldn't be at all surprised if there is more to it than meets the eye," Dr. Vasquez added candidly. He leaned back in his synthetic leather chair and seemed to stare off into space despite the fact that he was still looking squarely in Julia's direction. "It's no secret that the... *government* is starting to get a little nervous about the loss of so many medical experts to the project."
Dr. Heller looked at Vasquez incredulously, but his face betrayed no hidden thoughts.
"Are you implying the Council is behind this?" Julia had lowered the volume of her voice, in case the walls had suddenly developed a capacity to hear.
Dr. Vasquez steepled his hands under his chin and stared directly into Julia's eyes.
"What I am implying, Dr. Heller, is that you will now be traveling on the *Advance* ship instead, to replace Dr. Jordan."
Julia gaped at Vasquez in shock as numerous hitherto dangling threads began to weave themselves into a coherent picture in her mind. Certain things were becoming more and more clear. 'A change of plans indeed,' she thought to herself.
Coninued in Station Chronicles: Heller and Beyond (2/10)
Station Chronicles: Heller and Beyond (2/10)
by Simon Kattenhorn
Part 2 of 10 (Ch. 1 cont.)
Julia lay on her bed staring towards the window of her relatively new quarters, where she had been living for a few short weeks. Beyond the transparent metalloid viewport, the stars hung motionless in their unblinking tapestry of distant suns. She had once been told that from Earth, the stars twinkled. It had something to do with how the light passed through the atmosphere and scattered its rays of light. Julia squinted at the circular region of space visible through the viewport and tried to imagine what twinkling stars might look like. Unable to oblige Julia's failing imagination, the stars shone on as unwavering points of light.
"Guess I'll have plenty of opportunity to see twinkling stars when I get there," Julia spoke at the empty room while trying to imagine the night sky covering the surface of G889.
Returning her gaze to the viewport, Julia attempted to imagine a panorama that included mountains and trees and the ocean. The view she expected to see out of her New Pacifica window, twenty-two years from now. But try as she might, the only view Julia could conjure up in her mind was identical to an old picture she had once seen of a volcanic beach in New Zealand. With little frame of reference or personal experience, it was difficult to invoke images of planetary surfaces. All Julia had ever known was the stations. And unblinking stars.
Julia rose from the bed, walked over to the viewport, and sagged down into the alcove along the rim. She watched as a small cargo craft drifted by on its way into Bay 03 and followed its course silently for a few minutes. It felt strange to be in quarters with an external view. Most quarters were within the huge bowels of the stations- in the vast open spaces that had been created by the station architects so that buildings could be constructed in much the same way as they had always been back on old Earth. So that communities could *develop*, rather than be planned out from the start.
For the previous nine years, Julia's quarters had looked out over a vast area of residential housing blocks that stretched as far as the eye could see before the horizon disappeared into the curve of the station's primary ring. There was even an artificial sky above the entire region that simulated conditions of day and night over a twenty-four hour period. But the truth of the matter was, it wasn't a particularly effective sky simulation. At least, that's what the first generation station residents often said.
Now Julia's quarter's had an external view. It was much more than someone of her financial standing should possibly be able to afford. Outer hull habitats were as rare as proverbial hen's teeth. And that was on a good day. Julia waited for the cargo craft to disappear into the portal of 03 then turned away from the viewport.
"I miss the artificial sky," she sniffed, and began removing her robe in preparation for a hot shower when the sudden beeping of her ComCon startled her. It was an incoming message.
She wrapped the robe back around her and walked over to the console, activating it with a gentle push of her right thumb against the scanner device built into the console panel. The image of a dark-haired, middle-aged man appeared and gave her an insincere smile.
"What do you want, Blalock?" Julia near spat at the screen.
If the man noticed her contempt, he neglected to show it.
"Good evening, Citizen. I trust you are fully settled and comfortable in your new quarters."
It was not difficult to perceive that the man couldn't have cared less if Julia Heller were living in a paper box, much less comfortable in her swanky outer ring habitat. Julia had decided long ago that Dison Blalock cared for one thing and one thing only. The Council. Everyone he interacted with were merely pawns at the Council's beck and call. If the man had ever had the capacity to be sincere, it had long since vanished.
Julia stared at Blalock's image and shrugged.
"I was comfortable in my old unit," she replied stonily.
"Nonsense!" Blalock's idiot smile hadn't wavered. "We can't have our most important operative roughing it with the rabble, can we now?" The smile had become so ingratiating that Julia wished she could reach into the console and personally wipe it from his face.
"Cut the bullshit, Blalock." Julia bristled and struggled to maintain her composure. "I never gave you assurance that I would even go *through* with the Eden Project mission. But it's not as if you have gotten that into your thick head," she stabbed her finger at him. "It would have been nice to have been *asked* if I needed new quarters, rather than coming home one day to find your reprobate cronies in the process of relocating me. Don't you think it would look just the tiniest bit suspicious if Adair found out about my new-found financial windfall that allowed me to move out-ring?"
"I'm sure Devon Adair has far more pressing matters to take care of right now than keeping tabs on your living arrangements," Blalock countered. "You should be grateful to the Council for making your remaining days on the station so comfortable."
"Oh please!" Julia was incredulous. "There's no need to buy my allegiance to the Council. What do you take me for, Blalock?"
Blalock leaned forward so that the screen was almost entirely filled with the image of his face.
"I take you for a loyal citizen to the Council, Dr. Heller. Why else would we have trusted you with so...delicate...a mission?"
Julia's face soured.
"I don't recall the Council ever having a need to question my loyalties. It's not as if I've ever known otherwise anyhow, right Blalock?"
Blalock's smile had vanished but the expressionless face he put forward now was hardly an improvement. If Julia had some kind of point to make, he was still waiting to hear it.
Julia began pacing back and forth in front of the console as she continued the conversation.
"My involvement with the Eden Project was always supposed to be one of low-level observation of the planning. You *knew* I wanted to be on the Colony ship to help with the children," she reminded him angrily. "And yet, now," she raised her voice, "*now* I find that I am to be a member of the *Advance* ship. What the *hell* kind of stunt are you pulling here, Blalock?" Julia was livid.
"Your mission has changed," was the only response.
Julia could hardly believe what she was hearing. It was bad enough that she had been surreptitiously reporting to the Council on the developments of a project that she personally supported whole-heartedly. But to now be forced into going along on the mission on the same ship as the Adair woman- the leader of the project- it could only mean bad news for her, she was sure of it.
"My mission has *changed*!," Julia gave out a nervous laugh. "What is that supposed to *mean*, Blalock? I am supposed to just drop everything and run off for forty-five years of indentured servitude to the Council?"
"Calm down, doctor," Blalock deadpanned. He glanced off screen for a second as if his attention had been caught by something. "Meet me at our usual location at 2200 and we will discuss your new...opportunity."
Blalock motioned to cut the connection and the console suddenly went blank, leaving Julia staring back at a reflection of her own disbelieving expression.
The door to Julia's quarters swished closed behind her. The outer-ring habitats were strange to say the least. The outer windows, or viewports, provided nothing but the bleakness of space. However, all windows facing inward provided bright sunlight half of the time from the simulated sky at the center of the station's primary ring. At least the apartments were kept bright inside that way from the ample windows facing inward.
Julia now stood outside her door, looking out over the vastness of the primary ring. The sprawling residential area extended off below her as far as the station curvature allowed her to see, and she felt a momentary panic at the thought of not seeing her home again for forty-five years, assuming she even chose to return. Of course, it would be only two waking years or so in her own time frame, but it made no difference. If she came back, maybe everything would have changed. Or even worse, maybe everything would be exactly the same. Julia shuddered at the thought.
The level from which Julia looked down on the view below her was at least one hundred meters above the primary ring's ground level. At her level, the inner walls of the primary ring were beginning to curve inwards up towards the highest point on the circular ring, so that she was in fact overhanging slightly. Of course, in reality, the high point was actually facing inwards towards the center of the station, which was its centrifugal core. Earthers usually had great difficulty adapting to this radial reference frame, and many gave up on the conventional concepts of "up" or "down", settling instead for "inwards" and "outwards" respectively. Of course, not all stations were of this exact design, but in terms of the energy saved in the production of an artificial gravity, it was a practical one.
The multitude of houses below Julia were sprinkled with the green of hydroponic trees and in the far distance, she could make out the gleam of the artificial lake that acted as a recreation area aboard the station. It was quite a splendid job the station architects had done in trying to recreate lost paradise. The Earth that was. And yet, there was something about the space habitat that had never been a part of the blueprints. That had never crossed the minds of station planners or atmospheric systems teams. Something that the stations lacked yet which humans so desperately needed. Germs. Microscopic organisms which filled the atmosphere of Earth and yet were absent from the station atmosphere. Without external agents for human bodies to counter, they had finally turned on themselves it had seemed. And so the Syndrome was born. And from the very day she first learned of its existence, Julia Heller had vowed to one day use all her chromo-tilted medical expertise to fight against that insidious disease. The disease that had claimed the only true friend she had ever known.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ <<<<<<<<<<< ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Julia pressed her face up to the window of the autocab and stared in awe at the immense homes that passed by. This was the first time they had ever moved from one home into a newer one, and Julia was still a little confused by the whole affair. She assumed they would return to their old home eventually, so for the time being, they were more or less having an adventure. Julia's seven-year-old mind toyed with some possibilities of what the adventure entailed, as the window alternately fogged and cleared from her small breaths against the glass.
Suddenly, the autocab began to slow and then pulled into a driveway in front of a fairly spectacular house, with trees planted outside and with what looked like real grass stretching all around the outside of the house. Julia had never seen such a place. To her, the station had always been a place of cramped apartment units leading off of small thoroughfares or complex branches of metal walkways. She had never dreamed that within the very same station, there existed places such as these, with stand-alone houses and grass lawns. She couldn't imagine who would be so important that they would have such large units, and she had met many an important person in her life. Or so her mother constantly drilled into her with a strict regimen of behavioral discipline absolutely imperative in the presence of such company.
As soon as the vehicle had come to a halt, Julia darted out of the cabin and ran to the edge of the grass lawn as her parents stepped out behind her, and issued her a curt admonition to wait for them. Julia crouched down and reached out a hand to touch the grass. It appeared to be imbedded in a dark brown substance that was solid to the touch. Julia was fascinated. These plants were completely different to the hydroponic vegetation found elsewhere on the station. Sensing that it would be able to hold her weight, Julia pressed her hand on the grassy surface with gradually increasing pressure until her balance was finally lost and she tumbled over onto the grass with a happy squeal.
"Julia! Come over here this instant," came the stern reprimand from her mother.
Julia's happy laughter ended instantly and she stood and hurried over to her parents, who had begun walking up to the main door of the house.
"Yes, ma'am," she bowed her head, not wanting to catch her mother's direct and reproving glare.
Her father patted her on the head and pulled her in towards him until she was nestled perfectly against his side. She always felt completely safe there under her father's protective hold.
"Do you know what that is?" he asked his daughter in his usual father-teacher tone.
Julia turned and looked back at the grass, which appeared to be slightly flattened where she had just been rolling around.
"It *looks* like airweed," she replied in her small, confident voice, her brow furrowed, "but it seems to be stuck into something." Her brow creased again as she silently considered the possibilities. "Does the brown stuff help the plants to grow, Daddy?" she wondered as she looked up at his approving face. His expression made her realize immediately that her answer must have been close to the truth, and she basked in that inner joy that she often felt at times like these, when she could read her father's pride on his face.
"That's right, Julia. It's called soil. Or dirt. It's what the Earth is made of. It's what plants grow in down on the planet."
Julia's eyes widened as she tried to imagine the whole world covered in this "dirt" stuff. 'Where did it all come from?' she wondered inwardly. Her father must have seen the pondering look on his daughter's face because he gave out a small laugh and hugged her to him as Julia's mother opened the door and led the way into their new home.
A few days later, as Julia and her mother were leaving for the day, Julia noticed a little girl sitting in a hoverchair near to the entrance gate to their home. The girl was being fussed over by a rather tired looking woman who was checking on a strange suit that appeared to be the girl's clothing, although it was very different to any kind of clothing Julia had ever seen before.
"Look at that girl!" Julia exclaimed. "Do you think she lives next door to us?"
Julia's mother pulled her away from the window of the autocab and began adjusting the collar of her shirt, which Julia was quite sure looked just fine when she checked it in the hall mirror as they left a few minutes earlier.
"Don't you mind about her," said her mother. "She is very sick and you must stay away from her, okay?"
Julia nodded, but couldn't help wondering what sickness the girl could possibly have that couldn't be treated by the doctors at the station hospital. She had thought that the doctors could cure everyone who got sick. She would have to ask her father about it later. Julia sneaked a quick final glance at the girl, who was looking directly at Julia as the autocab levitated by on its magnetic hoverfield. Her face was expressionless.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ >>>>>>>>>>> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Continued in Station Chronicles: Heller and Beyond (3/10)
Station Chronicles: Heller and Beyond (3/10)
by Simon Kattenhorn
Part 3 of 10
Chapter Two
The doors to Portal Nine swished open at Julia's advance and she walked directly into the restaurant and bar without hesitation. According to her wrist chronometer, she was a few minutes late. She failed to suppress a smile at the thought of Blalock having to wait for her arrival. Blalock positively loathed having to wait on *anyone*. Others waited on Blalock. That was the way it worked as far as he was concerned.
It was still a little early for the dayshifters to have emptied the establishment completely, but late enough that the crowd had thinned considerably from the rowdy throng that would have been present a few hours earlier.
Julia worked her way past the bar, appreciating the absence of any of her co-workers from the station hospital, such as that annoying O'Donnell person. She worked her way through the small crowd into one of the bayside portal sections of the restaurant and beelined over to her usual booth. Blalock was sitting unfolding and refolding a napkin- his facial expression sedate as a construction drone that just had a shoulder dislocated.
Julia shimmied into the booth and stared blank-faced at the man who had been her primary Council contact since her involvement in the Eden Project began, three years previously.
"Dr. Heller. How nice of you to join me," was Blalock's acerbic greeting.
Julia gave a small shrug and cast a furtive glance at the surrounding tables of patrons to scan for possible listening ears.
"It's further to walk from my new unit," Julia replied stonefaced.
Blalock appeared slightly crestfallen.
"I would hardly call an outer hull residence a *unit*," he countered. "It wasn't exactly easy to arrange."
"Accommodations are accommodations," replied Julia. "It hardly matters how big they are. They all look the same when you're asleep."
Blalock decided not to further the pointless discussion on Dr. Heller's recondite opinion of residential echelons. The time had come to get down to brass tacks.
"The Council has been most impressed with your record on the Eden mission," Blalock initiated the matter at hand. "It's hardly surprising that your responsibilities have been increased. You should feel honored."
Julia sniffed at Blalock's contemptible and insincere toadying and gave him an icy look.
"I didn't *ask* for greater responsibility," she shot at him.
Blalock gave out a small laugh and took a mouthful of the drink he had been nursing.
"Julia Heller, I sometimes wonder how it is that you could possibly come from the same DNA sequences as your mother," he joked.
Julia was not amused. Mention of her mother was rarely a positive progression in conversation as far as she was concerned.
"Just cut to the chase, Blalock."
A server appeared and hovered for a second before Julia waved her away. Blalock returned his glass to the tabletop and leaned forward slightly.
"What do you know about the ISA?" he whispered.
Julia couldn't prevent a show surprise.
"The Interstellar Authority?" she responded with a hushed, but incredulous tone. "They actually exist?"
"They certainly do," Blalock assured her. "And as you can imagine, they are *quite* interested in the goings on within the Eden Project."
Julia's thoughts were shocked into sudden turmoil. The *ISA*! *Definitely* not to be confused with the station government's Department of Interstellar Development. She had always assumed the rumors about the ISA were nothing more than that- rumors. After all, it seemed unimaginable that such a callous, reviled organization could possibly truly exist within the Council. Now it seemed it was true after all. Julia felt panic set in as she considered the implications for the survival of the Eden Project.
The Interstellar Authority were said to be a stealth faction within the Council who indirectly controlled the expansion of the human race within and beyond the Sol System. It had long been rumored that a number of planets had been discovered beyond the solar system with habitability ratings of greater than sixty but that the information had never been made public. Julia had heard it been said that the reason was to ensure Council control over all new colonies, in order to prevent splinter groups of renegade humans flying off to escape the clutches of station government "administration", but Julia had always dismissed the probability. So far, all colonies beyond Earth's solar system were on hostile worlds with fairly low habitability ratings. The colonies were all enclosed, and differed little from the Martian, Lunar, and asteroid colonies. They didn't attract much of an interest from potential colonists.
Until the Adair Corporation's much lauded discovery of a planet in the G8 system with a habitability rating of eighty-three, hopes had greatly diminished that a habitable world would ever be found within humans' reach. Even the G8 system was further away than any human had been known to travel before. No private corporation had ever invested the amount of money as had the Adair Corporation in the search for a distant, habitable planet. Until then, all astronomical research had been under the control of the government. And it had seemed to be recurringly fruitless in the search for a new Earth.
But if it were true that the Interstellar Authority *did* exist, it could spell disaster for the Eden Project. It was quite obvious that the Adair woman had absolutely no intention of allowing the government, and specifically, the Council, to oversee the project that she had devoted the last eight years of her life to bringing to fruition. If the Interstellar Authority were trying to halt the project entirely, the prognosis was not particularly reassuring.
Blalock had been staring quietly at Julia as her internal thoughts had rollercoastered at the possible repercussions for the Eden Project. Despite her fears however, she had managed to recompose herself after only a few seconds.
"Why was I never told? Are they going to block the Eden Project?" Julia finally demanded of Blalock.
Blalock broke into his usual deprecating smile.
"Well, Citizen, that depends entirely on you."
Julia decided not to return directly to her quarters. Somehow, during the course of her wandering along the station corridors and pondering of the sudden, alarming turn in events, she had ended up at the large viewport overlooking the massive docking bay of Port Station One-Nine. Julia stared through the windows at the hive of activity surrounding the Eden Project's Colony ship. The nightshifters were hard at work, earning their larger-than-usual salaries that the Adair Corporation was paying to ensure the timely readiness of the two ships involved in the mission.
From her view angle, Julia could not make out the Eden Advance vessel. The vessel that would probably become her new chariot to the G8 System. The vessel was mostly obscured by the far superior Colony vessel that would transport the families of the more than two hundred Syndrome children going along in search of hope at a distant frontier. The Colony vessel was more or less ready for the mission. Most of the drones buzzing like flies around the external hull were merely performing routine inspections of primary and auxiliary mechanisms, ensuring that everything was in order and that there would be no mechanical problems that would delay the mission's departure. Timing had become crucial. At least, this was the instruction that all Eden Project employees had received, filtered down from the upper levels of the project's overseers. Julia was not exactly sure what it was that had provoked the increasing sense of urgency, although she supposed it was probably the government putting the screws on the Adair woman.
Julia turned her thoughts to Devon Adair. She realized suddenly, that she almost always thought of her as "the Adair woman". As if in contempt of the Adair Corporation's multi-millionaire heiress. And yet, Julia had never actually met the woman personally. In fact, from what she had heard, Devon Adair was a reasonable and admirable woman. Despite her advantaged familial upbringing, she had worked diligently to command respect in a tough business industry. And she had risked everything in her drive to make a success of the Eden Project mission. To save her son. Above all else, she had demonstrated a bottomless reserve of strength and gumption to stand against the designs of the Council.
Maybe it was this point, above all else, that Julia found unsettling. Devon Adair had stood up to the Council. Something Julia had never succeeded in doing. Nor had she ever given it much thought actually. She worked for the Council. It had more or less always been that way. She had been born into it.
Julia returned her gaze to the Colony vessel. She had spent so many long hours inside that craft. Obviously, the hospital ward was a major part of the vessel, and Julia had played a significant role in the setup of the necessary equipment to ensure the superior medical care that the Syndrome-afflicted children required. She had also been a part of the team responsible for installing and testing the new cryo-units that filled a gigantic bay at the rear of the ship. This project had become a tireless crusade in Julia Heller's life. Never before, had anything seemed quite as important as being a part of this mission to save the multitude of Syndrome children who were otherwise destined for an early death.
Julia turned away from the window. There was no way that she would take the chance of jeopardizing the success of the Eden Project. Too many lives were at stake. If the Council couldn't have someone influencing the Eden Project from within, it would see no recourse but to delay the Eden Project indefinitely by denying level six clearance. It was all about control. And the Council's insistence on having it. 'I guess it's decided then,' she thought to herself. 'I have no choice.'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ <<<<<<<<<<< ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Julia stood at the entrance gate and peeked an eye around the edge of one of the stone pillars. The girl in the hoverchair was being maneuvered along the street as usual by the fussing woman. Just as they were about to pass by the pillar, Julia strolled out onto the walkway as if the timing were purely fortuitous. She stopped short at the sight of the woman and the girl, and feigned surprise at seeing them.
"Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't see you coming along here," said Julia. She glanced sideways at the hoverchair and smiled at the girl it contained. She was wearing the same odd clothing that Julia had observed each time she just happened to notice the two of them pass by her family's home. "My name is Julia Heller," she directed at the woman. "I live here." She pointed back up towards her home.
The woman couldn't seem to decide whether to be flustered or grateful for the opportunity to make conversation. Finally she offered Julia a smile, and bent forward to bring herself closer to Julia's limited height.
"Hello Julia! My name is Belle. And this here is Eloise," she indicated towards the little girl in the hoverchair, who had suddenly turned coyer than previously, and seemed to have found sudden fascination with the armrest control panel on her chair.
Julia stared directly at Eloise and wondered suddenly if the girl was perhaps deaf, or mute, or maybe even both. She had read about such disabilities in a book that her father had given her on her last birthday. That possibility vanished however when the little girl uttered a quick "hello", in a tiny, timid voice, and without actually looking up at Julia as she said it.
"Do you live next door to us?" Julia asked of the girl.
Receiving no response, the question was eventually answered by Belle.
"Yes, I guess we're neighbors, Julia," Belle said. "I'm Eloise's nanny."
Sensing that conversation from Eloise was unlikely at this point, Julia began directing her interrogation at Belle, who seemed just a little surprised that someone they just happened to run into on the public walkway would be so well armed with probing questions.
"Is Eloise sick?" Julia seemed to have a flair for getting to the point, even at this early age.
"Yes," Belle gave Julia a wan smile. "I'm afraid Eloise is very sick, Julia. She has a disease called the Syndrome."
Julia furrowed her brow, as she usually did when she began thinking intensely about something. She had never heard of the Syndrome before. She was surprised considering how diligent her father always seemed to be in educating Julia in various aspects of biology and anatomy- topics for which Julia seemed to have a natural aptitude and interest she had come to realize.
"Is that why she has to wear that suit?" Julia continued her inquiry.
Belle flinched at the mention of the immuno-suit, as if she had somehow come to be oblivious to its existence.
"That's right, Julia," she said. "The suit helps Eloise to breathe okay, and keeps a check on her health. It's called an immuno-suit."
Julia let the name sink in and she silently repeated the word a few times for good measure.
"I see," said Julia matter-of-factly. "Well, can Eloise still play with the immuno-suit on?"
At that question, Eloise's head jerked up and her eyes suddenly took on a brightness that hadn't been there before. Belle seemed slightly taken aback and took a few seconds to recover.
"Play? Oh! Er...Julia, well...er...I'm not sure if that's a good idea." Belle tried to dismiss Eloise's dejected reaction. "Eloise gets tired very quickly, I'm afraid."
"Oh please, Belle," Eloise suddenly piped up. She took a few moments to catch her breath again before continuing. "I promise to be careful."
Belle hesitated as she considered the best course of action under the circumstances. Eloise's parents would most likely not agree to it, lest their little girl get overexcited. Eloise gave the most pleading eyes she could muster, and it didn't take long for Belle to get taken in by them.
"Well I don't see what harm it could do," she finally decided. 'Besides, your parents won't be home for a few hours yet,' was Belle's silent afterthought.
Eloise's face broke into the widest grin Belle had ever seen, and for a moment she thought her heart would burst at the sheer joy of witnessing it, coupled with a terrible sorrow that she never seemed able to shake.
"I'll just tell my father where I'll be," Julia directed at the two of them as she began hurrying back up towards the house. Inwardly, she gave silent thanks that her mother was not home to have something to say about the matter. After all, she would undoubtedly disapprove. But Julia decided for once she wanted to do something in spite of her mother's wishes. She had a new friend.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ >>>>>>>>>>> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Continued in Station Chronicles: Heller and Beyond (4/10)
Station Chronicles: Heller and Beyond (4/10)
by Simon Kattenhorn
Part 4 of 10 (Ch. 2 cont.)
"I love you, Julia." Conor O'Donnell stared long and hard into Julia's eyes and in them she saw reflected a thousand truths. Above all, she believed completely that he truly meant the words that had just fallen from his lips.
"How can you love me?" she asked him as she fought back the tears that threatened to well up. "You have no idea who I am. What I have done."
Conor cusped his right hand around the edge of Julia's face and gently stroked his fingers through the hair behind her ear. He planted the lightest of kisses on her forehead and brought his face back to a position where their eyes were only inches away from each other.
"I *do* know who you are, Julia. I can see her whenever I look into your eyes. I can see her whenever you lower the shield for that tiniest second when your soul shows through. I can see the woman who hides inside there. I *can* see you, Julia. And I love you. This woman who you truly are. You make me complete."
"No, it's not true!" Julia pulled away as the first tears began to show and she climbed up from the bed to walk across to the window. The simulated sun inside the station hull was starting to brighten and Julia noticed a single songbird sitting on the branch of the tree outside her unit. Julia wondered briefly how a bird had come to be free within the station's primary ring, and why it had chosen to visit her particular window. Then she sensed Conor approaching from behind her and felt his arms slide around her hips until the warmth of his body, pressed against her back, flowed into her like a drug.
"Don't shut me out, Julia. You can talk to me." His voice was soothing. Caressing.
"I can't tell you," she said sorrowfully. "You couldn't possibly love me if you knew what I have done."
"I cannot imagine anything you could possibly have done that would make me change the way I feel about you."
Julia closed her eyes and bit on her lower lip as the emotions of shame and self-loathing swept over her. The sound of tiny laughter brought her back and she opened her eyes quickly. The songbird was laughing at her. Laughing, like a broken doll with a pull-string. The songbird's laughter grew louder and Julia was horrified to see the songbird's head was the head of Dison Blalock. Laughing and laughing at her. Laughing and beeping at her. Beeping and beeping....
Julia's eyes opened wide and she sat up, disoriented. She was in her bedroom in her outer hull quarters. The black canvas of space filled the view through her viewport and an incessant beeping echoed within the confines of the sparsely furnished room. It was her ComCon.
Julia climbed out of bed sleepily and stumbled over to the console, feeling momentarily disturbed by the bizarreness of her dream. She pressed her thumb against the scanner and the screen came to life. Half expecting the screen to be filled by the horrible sight of a goading Disonbird, Julia was rather surprised to see who her caller actually was.
"Good morning, Dr. Heller. I hope I didn't wake you. I am..."
"Commander O'Neill. Yes, I know who you are." Julia found it difficult to contain her surprise. She had never personally interacted with Broderick O'Neill before. Why would the man in command of the Eden Project mission be contacting *her*? "What can I do for you, sir?" was all Julia could think to say.
"I'd like to meet with you today, if I may," O'Neill replied. "There are matters to discuss with regards to your assignment to the Advance vessel."
"Oh. Sure. I can stop by on my way over to..."
"Excellent! I'll expect you at oh-nine-hundred then."
With a brief smile, O'Neill concluded the conversation and cut the connection. Once again, Julia was left staring at her own, confused and sleep-ruffled, reflection.
Commander Broderick O'Neill's outer office was misleading. It contained everything one might expect in an outer office: a table, a few comfortable chairs, one or two hydroponic ferns, a secretary at his desk. But it had something more- a certain ambiance, projected by a carefully blended combination of colors, a precisely orchestrated arrangement of lighting. Julia looked around the spacious room as she sat in wait of her meeting with O'Neill, and recognized immediately the hidden agenda that was the atmosphere of this room. This was a room designed to calm, to soften, to lull into a sense of passiveness and tranquillity. This was a room designed specifically to give Broderick O'Neill the upper hand as soon as each visitor walked through the doorway leading into his office. It was a common Council trick and Julia couldn't help smiling to herself at the thought that someone who loathed the Council as much as O'Neill was purported to do, would use identical tactics to guarantee his elevated status during meetings.
O'Neill's office door opened and he walked out while still in conversation with his current appointment. The woman talking to O'Neill- tall, brunette, thirtyish- carried herself with an evident self-confidence. She radiated power; control. Julia recognized her instantly and was immediately intrigued at the sight of the famous Devon Adair in person. She felt admiration, respect, jealousy, and much to her annoyance, humbleness. All this merely from watching the woman utter a few casual words to O'Neill. Adair finished whatever it was she was saying and headed out of O'Neill's outer office, apparently oblivious to Julia's presence. Her focus was already on her next task at hand. Julia quieted her inner indignation and stood to greet O'Neill.
"Dr. Heller," he beat her to the formalities, "thank you for coming. Won't you please come in." He gestured to his office and followed Julia in, closing the door behind him.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Commander," Julia said in way of greeting. "The Eden Project has been fortunate to have your expertise guiding it along." The comment sounded trite and Julia immediately cursed herself for uttering such banalities. It was not in her nature to be inane.
"Thank you, doctor. Won't you please sit down?"
"Thank you. Please call me Julia."
"Julia," O'Neill smiled in response. "Well it would seem we now have the pleasure of your company, Julia, on the Advance vessel." O'Neill's eyes seemed to grip her suddenly. "How do you feel about that?"
Julia fidgeted slightly and hoped it hadn't been too obvious. "I'm honored to join the Advance crew. There will be plenty to do to prepare for the colonists' arrival at New Pacifica. Dr. Vasquez and I will certainly have our hands busy."
"Indeed." O'Neill opened a box that was sitting on his desk and pulled out a thick, brown-leafed cigar. "Do you think you are up to the task of setting up the colony hospital?" He ran the cigar under his nostrils, savoring its musty smell for a few seconds before replacing it to the box and closing it again.
Julia felt slightly insulted at O'Neill's question. Of *course* she was "up to the task"! Hell, she had been one of Vasquez's team members in the setup of the Colony vessel hospital ward. A junior member, perhaps, but with an important role to play nonetheless.
"I'm sure if you check with Dr. Vasquez, you will be sufficiently reassured as to the level of my abilities, Commander."
"Oh, please don't take me the wrong way, Julia," O'Neill attempted to explain. "I have every faith in your abilities and medical expertise. What I was thinking of was more along the lines of starting from scratch planetside. You are station-born, are you not?"
"As is Dr. Vasquez," Julia reminded him. "*And* Devon Adair."
O'Neill let out a hearty laugh and sat back in his chair. "Touche!"
Julia stared at O'Neill for a few seconds and realized she couldn't decide whether or not she liked the man. There was something about him that commanded respect, and yet there were also certain aspects to his demeanor that she found grating. Time spent at New Pacifica would tell, she supposed.
"The quarters assigned to Dr. Jordan are yours now, of course," O'Neill resumed. "Feel free to move your belongings in and familiarize yourself with the ship whenever you wish."
"Thank you, Commander." Julia smiled inwardly at O'Neill's obliviousness to the fact that she already *was* familiarized with the Advance ship. All part of working for the Council. She had been discrete enough, it would seem. "Now if there is nothing else, I must be going. Today we run the final diagnostics on the new cryo-chambers."
"Ah! Of course. Please," he gestured towards the door. "I just wanted to introduce myself and welcome you to the Advance vessel team. We'll all be spending quite some time together over the next twenty-three years or so," he smiled, his eyes twinkling.
With a parting nod and smile, Julia exited the offices of O'Neill and headed down the corridor, wondering all the while what the previous fifteen minutes had actually been about.
Continued in Station Chronicles: Heller and Beyond (5/10)
Station Chronicles: Heller and Beyond (5/10)
by Simon Kattenhorn
Part 5 of 10
Chapter Three
The lift doors opened and Julia was immediately assaulted by the wailing sound of a woman crying hysterically, and the angry voice of a man trying to reason with one of the orderlies.
"I don't understand," he was saying with failing patience, it was clear. "All we're asking for is *five* minutes. *Please*!"
The orderly was doing a fairly efficient job of ignoring the man's very existence, and seemed completely unfazed by the mournful sobbing of the woman. Julia recognized the orderly as Leonid Voniskaya, a man she particularly detested in light of his unsympathetic attitude towards the Syndrome children he was relegated to work around all day. In light of this fact, she felt it her duty to help these people to the best of her ability. No matter who they were or what they wanted.
She walked over to where the man beside the orderly was trembling in anger at being treated with such blatant disregard.
"Is there a problem here, orderly?" she flashed him an icy look as the sarcasm hovered in the air around them.
"These *Earthers*," he said with no attempt at hiding his disdain, "think they can just walk in here and demand to speak to Dr. Vasquez."
Julia bristled at the man's reprehensible prejudice towards planet-born people. She had never been able to fathom the ridiculous sense of superiority that some station dwellers had developed over "Earthers", as they had come to be known. Some human traits never seemed to disappear, Julia thought sadly.
Turning to look at the woman, who was now sitting with her face buried in her hands and sobbing quietly, Julia noticed for the first time a fourth person. Sitting next to the woman was a small, young girl- Julia estimated six or seven years old- watching the arguing men with a look of curiosity that could only reflect her lack of comprehension of the events transpiring around her. She fidgeted slightly and scratched at where the immuno-suit nostril tubes chafed at her upper lip.
"I told them the doctor is busy," he orderly added.
"Did you bother asking what they wanted?" Julia scythed through the orderly's smug attitude.
Voniskaya blanched, and began looking noticeably uncomfortable. He had crossed paths with Dr. Heller once before and hadn't enjoyed the encounter that time either. This was obviously not going any better.
The man cut in, sensing this was his opportunity to be heard.
"*Please* could you let us speak with Dr. Vasquez!" he grabbed Julia's arm and held onto it as if it were a lifeline. "We *have* to speak with him!"
"If you would just tell me what the problem is," Julia asked the man. "Perhaps I can be of help."
The man slumped down into the chair beside his wife, who was now wiping at her puffy eyes and taking in the sudden swing in the conversation. He was beginning to look defeated, and for a moment, Julia wondered if he might burst into tears himself. She knelt down next to the man and softened her tone.
"Why don't you start by telling me your name," she prompted him.
"His name's Uncle Jack," piped up the little girl suddenly.
"Shhh, honey," the woman cut in. "Let your uncle talk to the nice doctor."
Julia smiled at the little girl, who was staring back quizzically, as if analyzing Julia- trying to decide if she were indeed a nice doctor or not.
"Jackson Innes," the man finally said, his voice sounding considerably calmer now. "This is my wife, Samantha, and this," he gestured towards the little girl, "is my niece, Daria."
"Hi Daria," Julia smiled again at the little girl, after nodding a greeting at Samantha.
"Hello." Daria's small voice was sharp, and her breath steady, and Julia decided her Syndrome condition was not extensively advanced; surprising considering the little girl's age. "Can you help us go to the far away planet?" she asked innocently.
Julia's eyes widened, and she suddenly understood what was going on here. These people wanted to join the Eden Project colonists. She turned back to Jackson Innes.
"Is that why you need to see Dr. Vasquez?" she asked him. "You want to be a part of the Eden Project?"
"We *have* to be on that ship!" he implored. "I promised my brother I would take care of Daria. I *promised*!"
"Daria's father...?" Julia let the question dangle.
"He was killed three years ago," Samantha filled in. "Construction crew..."
She did not need to say anything more. The dangerous working conditions of station construction workers was well known. The number of injuries, and even deaths, was staggering.
"But you are from planetside?" Julia wondered out loud. "How can Daria have the Syndrome? No cases of the Syndrome have been reported planetside before."
"Daria was born on the stations," Jack clarified. "Her mother died...soon after the birth," he lowered his voice, trying to avoid upsetting his niece. "We've looked after her for the last three years."
Julia was confused. She had never heard of a Syndrome child being taken off the stations before. Who would look after them?
"You had a doctor knowledgeable on the Syndrome planetside?" Julia asked.
Jackson looked at his wife briefly before replying.
"No. We've taken care of Daria. We've never had the money to reach the stations ourselves. You wouldn't believe how much it cost us just to get hold of an immuno-suit from the stations."
Julia looked at the man in open-mouthed shock. "You took care of her *yourself*? Without a doctor?"
The man nodded. "We read a lot of material on the Syndrome. *All* of Dr. Vasquez's work."
Julia couldn't remember the last time she had been so impressed. These people had literally beaten the odds and looked after this little girl by themselves. Planetside. And now they had reached the limit of what they could do, left to their own devices.
"The Eden Project is our last hope," the man added, the pleading evident in his tone.
Julia grimaced. As far as she was aware, the Eden Project Colony vessel was at capacity. There may still be a chance that three openings could be found, she supposed. But at this late a stage? Julia wondered if it were possible to get these people into the ship's complement without endless paperwork and delays.
"I'll tell you what," Julia held the hands of both the man and the woman, "I'll speak with Dr. Vasquez myself and see what I can do. Come back and see me tomorrow morning, okay?"
Jackson Innes stared into Julia's eyes. "Please," was all he could say with a choked voice. The look in the man's eyes was one of utter desperation. Julia had only seen that look once before in her life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ <<<<<<<<<<< ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"*Please*! You've *got* to save her!"
Merrick Porter, Eloise's father, shot a desperately pleading look at Julia's father, who was working frantically at trying to keep up with the little girl's cascading organ failure. He knew it was hopeless. No matter what he did to stabilize one thing, something else would start failing and her condition deteriorated further. Dr. Robin Heller had never seen anything like it before in his lengthy medical career. It didn't help that he was lacking most of his medical equipment, here in the bedroom of his own daughter's best friend.
Julia stared at the proceedings with a removed numbness. She did not understand what was happening. Why wasn't her father able to make Eloise wake up again? Belle stood behind Julia, her fingers clasped around Julia's shoulders. She also seemed to be staring blankly, as if the horror playing out before her eyes were nothing but an illusion. A horrible nightmare that would soon disappear if she could only make herself wake up.
Eloise's frail body was pale and lifeless as Dr. Heller ran his medical scanner over her and attempted to tackle each problem to the best of his ability. There were an inadequate number of medical supplies in his kit that he had brought over to the Porter home after Julia had come screaming in the door, crying that her friend was dying. Her situation was direfully critical and only a hospital could properly supply the range of equipment required. But even a trip to the station hospital would take too long. It was already too late.
"Please, please, please," Eloise's father was sobbing as he stroked his fingers through his daughter's sweat-matted hair.
Robin Heller stopped suddenly, his scanner held hovering over the little girl's chest. He was staring at the display, as if willing it to give a read-out other than the one he was seeing. The one that told him that the battle was finally over. The war had been lost.
He looked up at Merrick Porter and something passed between them, Julia decided, because the man's entire demeanor changed. Julia could almost see every last measure of hope evaporate from the man's body. He was a man who was utterly defeated.
"I'm so sorry," Dr. Heller said, and Julia was surprised to see tears in his own eyes. She had *never* seen her father cry before.
"Noooooo!" came a piercing cry from behind them. Eloise's mother had arrived home- Julia remembered overhearing Belle calling her on the ComCon as soon as Eloise had collapsed. She had walked in the door in time to hear those final words from Julia's father. She ran over to where her husband was cradling the little girl's body and together the two of them held onto Eloise tightly and wept.
Belle was still trying to wake up from her daze as Julia's father escorted her from the room, Julia trailing behind abjectly. Belle hadn't made a single sound throughout the entire ordeal. It was as if the emotion had been drained right out of her. As if she had been preparing herself for this moment for so long, that when the time had finally come, she couldn't draw upon a single remaining emotion to adequately express what she truly felt.
Julia turned for a final glance at the Porters before leaving the room. Less than an hour before, she and Eloise had been playing right there, on the floor of Eloise's bedroom. They had been playing grown-ups again. Julia was the doctor and Eloise was the important corporation owner, in charge of building the stations. 'Eloise will never be a grown-up again.' The thought hovered in Julia's young mind, and it was as if the stations became a different place that day. Julia had watched her best friend die.
And Julia's father had been helpless to save her. *Her* father- the man she thought could cure anyone, no matter how sick they were. But it *wasn't* a game. In fact, it wasn't any fun at all. Julia decided it was something she didn't want to play anymore. Not until she could *really* make a sick person well. Someone like Eloise- her very best friend- who would never be a grown-up again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ >>>>>>>>>>> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Continued in Station Chronicles: Heller and Beyond (6/10)
Station Chronicles: Heller and Beyond (6/10)
by Simon Kattenhorn
Part 6 of 10 (Ch. 3 cont.)
Julia put the image of Eloise's still body out of her mind as she entered the hospital ward aboard the Colony vessel. She hadn't thought back on that moment in her life in a long while, but the feeling of sorrow somehow still permeated.
The hospital ward aboard the Colony vessel was a hive of activity. Within a few days, all Syndrome children would begin with the transfer process to move operations aboard the ship. It would take quite an effort to relocate nearly two-hundred-and-fifty sick children and ascertain the working status of the new ward. No problems were expected of course- the hospital ward aboard the vessel was state of the art- but it would be prudent to take a few days to be sure everything was indeed operating smoothly before departure.
Seeing Dr. Vasquez in the ward talking to a few project doctors, Julia hurried over to him as he looked up and smiled at her approach.
"Julia, I was just mentioning that you'd probably be showing up soon. Are you ready for the diagnostics team?"
"Yes, but if you wouldn't mind, there's something I need to ask you before we get started."
Dr. Vasquez nodded to the doctors he had been talking with and began walking back out of the ward with Julia beside him.
"Talk to me," said Vasquez as they entered the corridor and headed towards the cryo-section at the back of the ship.
Julia was apprehensive about asking and hoped her judgment of Dr. Vasquez was accurate enough to result in a positive response.
"There is a family." Julia began. "Earthers. They have a Syndrome child."
"*What*?!" Vasquez exclaimed. "The Syndrome on the planet? That's impossible!" At least it was impossible in light of Dr. Vasquez's current theories as to the cause of the Syndrome. A sobering thought ran through Vasquez's head as he considered the implications of his theories all being wrong and the resultant futility of sending hundreds of people twenty-two light years to a new planet on the basis of a disproved hypothesis. 'Less than two weeks until departure! It can't be true!' he thought to himself. This was a nightmare he had feared for the past eight years. Fortunately, Julia allayed his fears within the next few seconds.
"No, no, I don't mean the child developed the Syndrome planetside," she corrected. "The child is station-born."
Dr. Vasquez gave out an obvious sigh of relief and Julia was momentarily confused by the doctor's response. Probably because she had personally never had any doubt that Dr. Vasquez's theories on the Syndrome were absolutely correct.
"They've cared for the child planetside for three years, but she's obviously coming of age." Julia used the phrase that had become generic in referring to Syndrome children who were about to turn seven- the highest age to which a Syndrome child had ever survived. "They need to join the project."
The two of them rounded a corner of the corridor and passed a few Ops crew who were working at an electrical panel recessed into the corridor wall. The cold-sleep chamber doors could be seen at the very end of the corridor, about twenty meters further down.
"Join the project? Julia! Are you being serious? You know how detailed the background checks have been for all of the families. Adair would never allow it at this late a stage!"
Julia had feared this line of argument. And expected it. What Dr. Vasquez was saying was absolutely correct. The Adair Corporation had done a very thorough job in the background investigation of each and every one of the Syndrome families joining the Eden Project. Devon Adair was taking no chances that the Council would somehow attempt to infiltrate the project in some way in the hope of taking control of the New Pacifica colony. It had been made perfectly clear to the general public that no applications would be considered less than six months prior to departure. And this was less than two weeks.
"That's why you will need to convince her of this personally," Julia said evenly.
Dr. Vasquez looked at Julia skewly. "And why would I want to do that, Julia?"
Julia realized he was being genuine, rather than captious. He truly wanted to be convinced himself.
"She'll listen to you, you know that."
"If I have enough justification, she *may* consider my suggestion," Dr. Vasquez corrected.
Julia bit her lip and thought for a few seconds as they entered the cold-sleep chamber.
"This child could be important to your research," Julia suddenly spoke up.
"Oh? How so?" Dr. Vasquez was still being cautious, if not cynical.
"Well just think about it!" Julia was beginning to sound excited. "This child has lived planetside for three years. *Out* of the station environment. Now we've never thought it wise to expose Syndrome children to Earth's polluted environment, but this child not only survived, but seems to be in better condition, considering her age, than any of the children we have. Including Ulysses Adair."
The final statement was the punch, and it had caught Vasquez's attention as effectively as a fist in the face. Julia continued.
"This is the only Syndrome child with exposure to a planet's environment. We are going to be exposing two-hundred-and-fifty children to such an environment simultaneously. I think it would be in our best interests to have someone like Daria there to give us some idea of what to expect. Who knows what insights her condition may offer?"
Dr. Vasquez was starting to display an excited gleam in his eyes too.
"The idea is intriguing," he said and appeared to be lost in thought for a few seconds before continuing. "I'll be sure to talk to Devon about this later today. I can imagine she'll be partial to any idea that may have benefit for Uly and all the other Syndrome children."
Julia smiled broadly and grasped Dr. Vasquez's arm. "Thank you, doctor. Now why don't we see what these cryo-engineers have to say about the status of the new units?"
It was five days before Julia heard from Dison Blalock again. Five relatively peaceful days in which everything seemed to be progressing very smoothly for both the Eden Project and herself. Devon Adair had approved the admission of the Innes family into the project. The transfer of the Syndrome children to the colony vessel hospital ward was proceeding without hassle. The cryo-unit checks were all positive and all systems were at go. And Julia had begun moving her belongings and equipment aboard the Advance ship. She had almost forgotten that the Council even played into the Eden Project equation at all.
And then Blalock called. And Julia's life took yet another unexpected turn.
Julia's eyes fluttered open at the sound of the beeping ComCon. This was becoming an annoying recurrence, Julia decided. She sat up, then waited for a few seconds while her balance caught up with her. Then, crawling out of the bed, she stumbled over to the console and activated it.
"Good morning, Citizen."
Julia's stomach turned. 'Ah, that's just great!' she thought to herself. 'Now why did I just *know* I was going to be hearing from him again before too long?'
"Blalock, don't you ever operate at reasonable hours?" Julia spat at him. "I *am* a dayshifter in case you forgot."
"As usual, Julia, it's a pleasure to see you again too," Blalock sneered. "I hear that you are getting settled in on the Advance vessel."
"Of course you do, Blalock. Know all, see all, right?"
Blalock smiled. "Well that's what we have *you* there for, Citizen."
Julia shot him an icy look and tucked some fallen strands of hair behind her ear.
"I don't recall giving you a run-down of Advance ship preparations, Blalock. I guess there are a few extra worms in the apple, hmm?"
"Perhaps they are doing a better job than others at finding the core," Blalock extended the metaphor with a sarcastic jab.
"Blalock..." Julia let out a long sigh as she rubbed her right eye with the ball of her palm. "*What* do you want from me?"
Blalock took on that holier-than-thou look that Julia had come to detest. It was the look that said with scornful condescension that he was better than she. That he pulled the strings to her actions. That he was in control. And Julia knew it was true, no matter how much it reviled her.
"The time has come, Citizen."
Julia looked at the face on the monitor quizzically. "Time for what?" she asked.
"To brief you on your mission," Blalock was deadly earnest.
Julia felt her world spin slightly as the repercussions of those words hit home. She had almost been expecting it, at some level, that there would be more to it than Blalock had let on a few days earlier. But it still came as a shock in the event and she feared the worst.
"When?" she asked resignedly.
"1400. But this time meet me at the Colonnade. Medical."
The screen went blank, leaving Julia reeling. "The Colonnade?" Julia pictured the gigantic row of columns that defined the gateway into the Council Operations section of the station. "This is not going be good news," she realized.
The Council Colonnade was a testament to excess. The entrance to Council Operations towered over all who passed through its gates, and one could not help but feel awe for the power that lay embodied in the building at the end of the row of marble columns. The design was obviously influenced by ancient Greek architecture, and was, as far as Julia was concerned, an obvious demonstration of authority inspired by the likes of some infamous Greek despot. It was a statement that made it perfectly clear who had power here.
As she walked along the entrance way into the Colonnade, as the Council Operations building had now come to be known, Julia couldn't help but feel the import to her role in the Council. 'Somehow, this must be a cause bigger than myself,' she thought to herself about her career with the Council. 'This must be for the greater good.'
Julia entered the Colonnade and headed to the south lobby lifts that would take her up to Medical. She had long ago gotten used to the ridiculous habit of the Colonnade using compass directions to refer to different parts of the complex. The South Lobby. The West Wing. Directions hardly made much sense in a rotating chunk of metal floating two-thousand kilometers above the surface of the Earth. It was not as if the Council adhered to convention in any of its other activities. Julia's current mission included.
Exiting the lift at Medical, Julia glanced around before catching a glimpse of Blalock conversing with another man at the end of the hallway to her right. She proceeded towards him, but he caught her advance immediately out of the corner of the eye in the back of his head (it would seem) and hurried towards her.
"Good, Julia, you're here. Let's go right in." Blalock had grasped Julia by the elbow and steered her into what appeared to be an examination room.
"What is going *on*, Blalock. Why did you call me here?" Julia was genuinely confused. She had no idea what her nemesis had planned for her this time, and it grated on her like a raw nerve.
Blalock looked up at a nurse who popped her head through the door briefly before disappearing again as he gave her a small nod, then walked over to a bench containing various medical supplies and instruments, with which he began fiddling as he launched into his explanation.
"You will have a contact waiting for you at G889," he said almost casually.
"*What*?!" Julia was bowled over.
Blalock turned and looked Julia squarely in the eye.
"A contact. You will continue your reports to the Council by relaying them through him."
Julia was stunned. Her mind was racing to find a semblance of sense in what Blalock was saying, but she was having a hard time configuring the pieces.
"Are you saying there is another Council spy on the Advance team?" she demanded.
Blalock chuckled and returned the sedaderm with which he had been fiddling to the bench with the other instruments.
"No, that's not what I'm saying at all, Dr. Heller." He looked at her directly again. "Don't you believe we have the utmost trust in you alone for this mission?"
Julia could hear the veneer of contempt in his every word.
"If you have the utmost trust in me, as you say, Blalock, then why do I need a Council nanny to watch over me after I get there? Am I too much of a wild card for you?"
"Please, Citizen," Blalock gave his usual sneer. "You will not have the capabilities to send reports back to us directly. That's where your contact comes in."
Julia was still trying to make sense of how the Council could possibly manage to sneak a second operative along on the mission without them being discovered by the Eden Advance Ops crew. They would undoubtedly go over the vessel with a fine tooth comb prior to launch for sure, and any stowaways were bound to be discovered. And unless the operative was planning on taking along his own portable cryo-unit, he would do well to bring along a good book. A *long* one.
"How are you going to get this contact *to* the planet?" she finally asked, nonplused.
Blalock smirked. "Oh we don't need to." He soaked up Julia's confused expression with a look of extreme satisfaction. "He's already there."
Once again, Julia found herself at a complete loss for words. It didn't help matters to have Blalock's smug expression right in front of her face either.
"What do you *mean* he's already there? No-one's ever been as far as the G8 system."
Julia realized the error in her assumption as soon as she said it. Of *course* someone had been as far as the G8 system. 'Hell, the Council's probably been sending out scouts for years,' Julia thought to herself. 'Expendable ones,' she realized as she considered technological restrictions involved with interstellar spacecraft construction. The Eden Advance vessel was the fastest of its kind, and even that would take forty-four years to make the round trip. Only very recent advances in cryo-unit technology allowed such lengthy interstellar excursions without running the risk of Cold Sleep Syndrome and the inescapable resultant death it promised. Julia imagined far reaches of space with drifting spacecraft and skeletons of long-dead Council operatives who died for the Council cause. Whatever it was.
"Citizen Heller," Blalock spoke as if he were lecturing a child, "surely you didn't think that the Council hasn't had a vested interest in this planet from the very beginning?"
"So you knew about the habitability rating of G889 all along," Julia surmised.
"Oh, for many years. Let's just say we were biding our time," said Blalock.
"*Why*?" demanded Julia. "Why on *Earth* would you leave a perfectly habitable planet unpopulated when there are still so many starving people planetside struggling to survive?"
Blalock shrugged his lack of compassion for Earthers.
"They weren't ready," was his response.
"Who weren't ready?" Julia demanded again. "Earthers?"
"The Interstellar Authority, of course," came a woman's voice from the doorway behind Julia.
Julia spun around and failed to stifle a gasp.
"You!" Julia stared in open-mouthed shock. She looked at the woman with apparent disgust. "I should have known you would be a part of this somehow."
Continued in Station Chronicles: Heller and Beyond (7/10)
Station Chronicles: Heller and Beyond (7/10)
by Simon Kattenhorn
Part 7 of 10
Chapter Four
"Goodness, Julia, is that any way to speak to the woman who gave you life?"
Julia harumphed at that remark as she struggled to regain her composure, her hands opening and closing into fists at her side.
"So give you, so shall you control?" Julia shot at the woman whom she had not seen for close on four years. Their last encounter had hardly been a paragon of mother-daughter bonding either.
The woman- Julia's mother- considered her daughter for a moment with a sad expression. Another mother might have seen love in that expression. Julia did not. The woman closed the distance between them and Julia tolerated, but did not respond to, a brief embrace.
"Julia." Her mother clasped both her shoulders and leaned back to take in the view of her daughter. "It has been far, far too long."
Julia freed herself from her mother's grasp and walked around the examination table that stood near the center of the room. She was beside Blalock now, who had been taking in the scene with a sense of amusement.
"Why don't you just tell me what's going on here, Blalock, hmm?" Julia said evenly. She glanced at her mother, who had remained on the other side of the examination table, now showing a blank expression. The time for tenderness had obviously passed already, Julia decided.
"Why don't you ask your mother," he smiled complacently. "She commands jurisprudence here. It is an ISA matter after all."
"What does he mean?" Julia twirled and demanded of her mother. "What do you know of the ISA?"
Her mother cast her gaze down at the floor as she spoke softly. "I'm sorry, Julia."
The truth hit home. Her mother was *part* of the ISA. And she had never told her daughter. It had been bad enough that Julia had to contend with her mother being on the Council's Board of Regents. Julia had spent her entire life trying to escape from beneath the expanse of *that* shadow. And now to find out that her mother was a member of the ISA! The very organization trying to put an end to the only means Julia had ever found for a final chance at escape from the shadow that had always threatened to overwhelm her. Julia felt the camel's back snap.
"Sorry? You're *sorry*?! Is that supposed to mean something to me? Do you really think I give a *damn* that you're sorry?" Julia could feel the tears of anger welling in her eyes. "You *lied* to me all these years. What right do you have to expect me to accept this?"
Julia could not have cared less any longer that Blalock was bearing witness to this. The truth was, Blalock himself was starting feel rather uncomfortable at this display of mother-daughter angst. Blalock had always been a loner, without the trappings of familial squabbles. This did nothing but reaffirm his gratefulness of that fact.
"You have no choice," her mother responded wearily. "The truth is what it is."
Julia had started to pace back and forth. She had not expected to have to deal with her mother again before leaving the stations. Instead she was being dealt a larger blow than she felt able to confront right now. Truth be told, Julia had *never* been able to deal with her mother's standing in the Council. How could she ever compete?
"Dison, why don't you ask Dr. Raftopoulos to bring the transponder?" the elder Heller suggested to Blalock, who was only too happy to oblige. He left the room hurriedly, grateful for something else to do than listen to a personal altercation involving one of the Board of Regents.
Julia hardly even noticed the brief interaction between them, or Blalock's subsequent exit.
"The truth?" she continued the shouting match between them. "You have the gall to talk about truth?"
"Julia, please..."
"No, mother," Julia cut back in. "Don't you *dare* to talk to me about truth. All you know are lies. Lies, lies, lies! One after another, year after year, that's all you knew how to give."
Julia could feel years of pent-up hostility starting to surface. For the first time in her life, she realized she was not afraid to tell her mother exactly how she felt. She continued.
"As if the chromo-tilting weren't bad enough, you had to interfere with every single aspect of my life, didn't you? Who I knew, who I worked for, my friends, my enemies."
Julia could feel a throbbing in her temple that heralded an oncoming headache. She rubbed at it gently with her fingertips as she turned away from her mother.
"I'm finally doing something *I* want," Julia near whispered. "I can't believe you have your fingers on the buttons this time too."
Julia did not see her mother grimace at the realization of the pain she had caused her daughter. She had never considered that anything she had done would alienate her child like this.
"I only ever did what I thought was right, Julia. I wanted to give you all the opportunities *I* never had. I did what I thought was best for you..."
Julia turned and her mother could see the hint of tears beginning to well.
"And what about love, mother? Did it ever occur to you that a child needs love? I can make my *own* opportunities."
"I always loved you," her mother said softly.
Julia couldn't help uttering a sad laugh.
"No mother. It was always the Council that had your love. The Council always came first. Even father stopped trying to compete. How could he ever win?"
The comment stabbed to her mother's heart but her face remained coldly passive. She would not allow her own daughter to provide an analysis of her marriage too.
"Your father was loyal to the Council until the day he died," she spat at her daughter. "He always understood the importance of our mission. What we could achieve for mankind. We have never been an enemy to the people, Julia. I thought you understood..."
At that moment, Blalock reappeared in the doorway, followed closely by one of the doctors. He paused briefly, waiting for some indication from the older of the women whether to proceed. Receiving no indication one way or the other, he continued into the room and took up a standing position alongside the examination table. The doctor nodded a greeting at Regent Heller and began removing various medical items from the cabinets and trays beside the examination table. At one point he scowled at Blalock, who moved out of the doctor's way and sat down on a small chair against one of the walls of the room.
Julia took in the actions of the doctor for a few moments and began feeling a sense of unease that she was about to find out something pertaining to her mission that she was not quite ready for. The hairs on the back of her neck were still standing up as a result of the altercation with her mother, who had returned to passive mode.
"Would someone care to let me in on the secret?" she demanded.
"You need some way to communicate with your contact on the planet," Blalock replied.
"And?" Julia asked. "What kind of device are we talking about here?"
"Don't worry, Julia, it is completely harmless to the body. The device has been tested fully," her mother attempted to sound reassuring. Julia responded with a sidelong unconvinced glance.
"Actually, it's quite a marvel of modern technology, " Dr. Raftopoulos chimed in. "You wouldn't believe the troubles it caused us during the cryo-freeze stasis initially."
"Some sort of implant?" Julia wondered as she scrutinized the small, capsule-like device the doctor was holding.
"Not quite," the doctor responded. "It's imbibed."
Julia blanched at the thought of swallowing the thing that the doctor had been fingering, and which suddenly seemed three times as big as when she had first looked at it.
"You want me to swallow that thing?" she asked incredulously. "It had *better* taste like chocolate."
Dr. Raftopoulos let out a small chuckle. "Actually it's a complex carbonpolysilicate," he explained. "It releases a dermal adhesive as soon as it encounters the stomach acids and essentially welds itself to the wall of the stomach. Quite ingenious, really."
Julia *was* impressed. She took the device from the doctor and began examining it herself. The capsule contained a barely perceptible seam along which it could presumably be pulled apart. Pulling slightly from either end, her suspicion was confirmed as the capsule broke into two, revealing an illuminated internal miniature communication device that was obviously designed as an attachment for a V.R. gear headset.
"Very impressive!" she remarked. Then, thinking back to the doctor's comment about cryo-stasis, she asked, "how does the device remain attached to the stomach so long without producing internal injury?"
"An excellent question," replied the doctor. Julia was beginning to realize that Dr. Raftopoulos probably had a made fair contribution to the design of the device. His pride was evident. "The adhesive is completely chemically inert. The capsule can remain adhered to the stomach for hundreds of years without interacting with the biological system in any way. But the key is temperature. Previous designs couldn't circumvent the problems caused by a cryogenic state. Penetrative ulcers, stomach ruptures, you name it. But this device *needs* the cryogenic temperatures to remain effective. You need to be in cryo-sleep within seven days of swallowing the device and the adhesive begins to fail within two weeks of cryo-recovery."
Julia did a quick mental calculation and decided that seven days was cutting it rather tightly. If all went according to plan, she should be in cryo-suspension within six, maybe seven days. It was the "all according to plan" part that worried her.
"How is the device removed?" she asked.
"It's quite simple actually," Raftopoulos smiled. "As soon as the adhesive fails and the capsule disengages the stomach wall, the device begins to emit a perceptible vibration to let you know it should be removed from the system immediately. Alternatively, if your planet counterpart tries to contact you earlier than that, the communication alone will activate the device and set off the vibration, which will be enough to loosen the adhesive. Either way, you'll need to remove the device."
Julia stared at the doctor with a frown. "Remove it how?"
The doctor made the gesture of sticking a finger down his throat and Julia suddenly understood.
"Oh," was all she said.
At this point, Blalock became re-animated and jumped up to his feet.
"I'm sure I don't need to remind you, Citizen, that discretion is imperative. The V.R. environment can be risky. Be aware of that when you make contact."
Julia's mother had been taking in the proceedings with quiet aplomb. Inside, her heart ached at the thought of potentially never seeing her daughter again, but at the same time, she felt a pride greater than any other before that her daughter- *her* daughter- would be the one to carry out the Council's most important current assignment. No matter what Julia thought, she had raised her daughter well, she was certain of that.
"Julia, I know you cannot understand everything about why you were not informed about the ISA connection," her mother began, "but try to understand how important this mission is for our future. This is an entirely new planet waiting to be colonized, with the highest habitability rating of any before. It is imperative- for *mankind*- that it not be turned over into the hands of breakaway factions. There is no end to the trouble it will cause for humanity's survival out there. Without the Council, there will only be avarice, and destruction, and war. It is all mankind knows without the Council. Look what became of Earth. For all our sakes, help us give Earth Two a chance."
Julia looked at her mother intently, searching for clues in her facial expressions that might betray her. But she found none. Her mother truly believed that what she was saying was the truth. She honestly believed that G889 would enter on a destructive path without the Council's leadership. Thinking of Earth, and the struggle for survival that it offered, Julia realized that deep down, she believed it too. Life *had* become easier for mankind on the stations, and the Council had a major role to play in that. Despite all of Devon Adair's best intentions, the truth was that she had no control on the development of G889. After her would come others, and then more and more again, and before not too long, Devon Adair's slice of paradise would be ready to collapse in on itself. It could spell doom for all the generations of Syndrome children to come. There was no doubt about it. A Council presence was necessary.
"I will serve the Council to the best of my ability," Julia directed at her mother. "But I want you to understand one thing. I am doing this for *me*- out of my own beliefs. *Not* for you."
Her mother's expression revealed nothing, although her eyes almost seemed to dim slightly at that remark. Julia became suddenly aware of the wrinkled creases around her mother's eyes, and the perceptible traces of grey in her hair. She studied her mother's face for a few seconds, and attempted to reconcile a sense of regret she could not fathom that it would be the last time that face would be there for her to see.
"Whatever your reasons," her mother responded, "be sure to serve the Council well, just as it has always served you."
Her mother clasped Julia's hands in hers for an instant, and then she was gone. Julia stared at the open doorway, where her mother had disappeared, as she realized it was the only good-bye they would ever have.
"Here is the capsule you must swallow," said Dr. Raftopoulos, handing Julia a second device- this one cleanly wrapped in a plastic container. "If you have any questions, feel free to contact me," he said as he too exited the room.
Julia was left standing in the room with Blalock.
He stared at her expectantly.
"Well, Citizen?"
"Well what?" Julia responded.
"Aren't you going to swallow the capsule?" he motioned to the container in her hand.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Blalock," Julia sneered as she ripped open the container and somehow managed to slide the capsule lengthwise down her throat. It was not the most comfortable experience, but at least it would get Blalock off her back.
"Very good," he said. "I guess you're all set. We look forward to hearing your reports from the planet."
"What's his name?" Julia almost sounded bored.
"Who?"
"The *contact*, Blalock," Julia shook her head in dismay.
"Oh. Reilly. An old friend of my father's, actually. He has a high standing in the Council, Citizen. Keep that in mind at all times."
Julia began walking towards the door, and stopped briefly.
"You know Blalock, the one good thing that'll go through my mind as I'm sending in my reports is the fact that in all good likelihood, you'll be long dead by then."
Blalock looked perplexed.
"I'm only forty-three years old, doctor. I'm sure even you can do the math."
"Who said anything about natural causes?" Julia shot back over her shoulder as she strode out of both the room, and the presence of Dison Blalock, forever.
Continued in Station Chronicles: Heller and Beyond (8/10)
Station Chronicles: Heller and Beyond (8/10)
by Simon Kattenhorn
Part 8 of 10 (Ch. 4 cont.)
The next morning, Julia sat looking through the personnel files of the Advance crew who would be involved in the setup of the New Pacifica colony, and for whose medical well-being she would be partly responsible. Preferring to familiarize herself with the new surroundings, Julia had chosen to spend the night aboard her quarters on the Advance vessel, rather than her bleak apartment on the station. The bunk aboard the ship was not quite as comfortable as in her apartment, but considering the fact that it would get minimal use before and after the cold-sleep stasis in the cryo-units, it hardly mattered.
In fact, Julia had found the whole process of quarter assignments aboard the ship as rather an overkill. In her opinion, a larger, more general living quarters shared by everyone would have sufficed, in which case, the number of persons aboard the Advance vessel could have been increased significantly. One of her main concerns with the Eden Project had been the limited number of crew assigned to the Advance portion of the mission. It wasn't a hell of a lot of bodies to handle the inception of an entire colony. Julia had never quite been able to figure out what might be on the Adair agenda for her to have chosen to proceed this way. It didn't make a whole lot of sense as far as she was concerned.
Julia sat at the small metal desk with the folders spread before her, as she sipped at her morning orange juice and nibbled on an oatmeal bar. She silently spoke the names of the New Pacifica Advance team inside her head, trying to familiarize herself with the medical histories of each- something that time had not allowed her the luxury of doing prior to now.
Devon Adair. Julia skimmed through the details and nodded at the recognition of some of the names of doctors who had treated Devon throughout her life. Some pretty influential people, Julia realized. Money could afford families such as the Adairs such perquisites. As for her medical history, Devon Adair was probably the most physically healthy member of the entire team.
Ulysses Adair. This was a medical history that required little in-depth analysis. It was little more than a repetition of countless others Julia had encountered in her work with Syndrome children of affluent families. The personal attention was obvious in comparison to the average Syndrome child languishing in a ward full of similarly afflicted children. Julia attempted to control her disdain- it was hardly the child's fault, after all. She had met Ulysses Adair briefly during one of his visits to Dr. Vasquez, and he seemed similarly adjusted as any other Syndrome child who had spent their entire brief existence dealing with the prospect of death. Uly, as he seemed to be preferentially called, *did* however seem to exhibit something extra- a gleam in his eyes that bespoke the hope that had undoubtedly been planted there by his mother's promise of a new life on a planet far away.
Julia's concentration was broken by the sound of someone clattering around in one of the panels outside her door. Probably one of the Ops crew, she decided. She had met one of them late the previous evening, apparently working on some wiring re-routing along the hallway ceiling access hatches. He had introduced himself gruffly as John Danziger and gone back to what he was doing when Julia did not make any attempt to venture further conversation. In fact, Julia's mind had been entirely preoccupied with the unfolding of events at the Colonnade, and she had been momentarily startled by the presence of the foreboding crewman right outside her quarters. Sensing the opportunity for conversation had passed, she entered her quarters and decided he was probably working on a deadline anyway. There were less than sixty hours until launch, after all.
Julia noticed there was no medical file for a John Danziger in front of her, which meant he was not part of the New Pacifica landing party. There appeared to be a number of Ops crew aboard who were slated to return with the vessel after delivery at G889, judging from the limited number of folders before Julia, in comparison to the Advance vessel's compliment of thirty-five. At least she wouldn't have to tolerate the smugness of the ship's pilot once they had gone down to the planet, Julia realized. He had been one of the first people she had met aboard the ship earlier in the week, and his Lothario attitude had grated on the doctor immediately.
Returning her focus to the medical folders, Julia examined the details of some of the other soon-to-be colony settlers.
Broderick O'Neill. A fairly densely packed file, to say the least. The man had seen more military combat injuries than he deserved to be around to talk about. It was lucky for him that the medical compliment of the military had been so well prepared before the Faith wars.
Morgan Martin. Julia hadn't met the man yet, but had already felt the disappointment of discovering that a government liaison would be watching over everything they do during colony setup. Julia envisioned an argument or two with the man, no matter how charming he may turn out to be. His medical history was mostly uneventful.
Not so the file of his spouse. Bess Martin had grown up planetside, and the list of medical procedures she had encountered were both surprising and esoteric. Nothing too serious- the usual bouts with lung aggravations and ear, nose and throat infections so common on the planet. However, the documentation of the treatments left Julia wide-eyed. It was incredible what archaic alternatives Earther doctors utilized when the most efficient treatments weren't immediately available to them. Julia silently thanked her lucky stars that she had had the luxury of experiencing the medical environment of the station hospitals. She couldn't imagine being stuck on a planet in the middle of nowhere, trying to treat people without the necessary supplies. Thank goodness she would never have to- the colony hospital at New Pacifica was designed to be state of the art, once construction was complete.
Julia finished her breakfast as she skimmed through some of the remaining files. The names were mostly unfamiliar to her- Eben Synge, Larry Stidd, Terence Walman...the names became a blur. There were twenty-two in total, including herself and Dr. Vasquez. Twenty-two settlers, twenty-two light years away. For some reason, the thought sent a shiver of excitement through Julia's body. Then Julia realized something. There was one file missing.
"The cyborg!" Julia exclaimed out loud. "What was his name?" Julia thought back to her meeting with the kindly tutor of the Adair child a few days previously. "Ah! Yale!"
Julia shuffled through the pile of folders once again, thinking she had perhaps overlooked it, but it was definitely not there. She chewed slightly on her lower lip as she considered the possible reasons. Having never encountered a cyborg before- it was a program that had been dismantled years ago- Julia had never been privy to the medical histories of such a person. A pity, she decided. It would have been interesting to see.
Feeling the desire to get up and move around, Julia abandoned the medical files and headed towards the door of her quarters. The door slid open and she stepped out into the hallway. Whoever had been working out there only minutes earlier was gone now. Julia shrugged her shoulders, and headed along the corridor.
Continued in Station Chronicles: Heller and Beyond (9/10)
Station Chronicles: Heller and Beyond (9/10)
by Simon Kattenhorn
Part 9 of 10
Chapter Five
The final day or two of preparations was always a period of frantic rushing around for deep-space projects, irrespective of the amount of time that had been available in which to prepare. The Eden Project was no exception.
As Julia exited along the main entry way into the Advance vessel, she was met with the sight of tens of people milling around the gangway, attending to various equipment or other boxes and packages that needed to be put aboard the vessel. Julia was slightly taken aback by the bustle. It didn't help that she had trouble recognizing a fair deal of the dockside workers, despite the Adair Corporation symbols clearly emblazoned on their overalls. Julia had become particularly adept at her observation skills, and it bothered her that so many seemingly new faces were suddenly hovering around the Advance vessel. She assumed last-minute relief workers had been brought in to take up the slack.
Moving into the corridor from the gangway, Julia walked over to the large observation window that overlooked the One-Nine bay, where she had stood gazing at the Colony ship over a week before. There was a hive of activity around that vessel too, except that it seemed to be predominantly colonists moving to and from as they went about their final stationside business before settling in for departure. Julia made out the unmistakable form of Dr. Vasquez, hovering over Syndrome children with their parents who had dared to take them off the ship again after they were already supposed to be fully settled in the Colony ship hospital ward.
The doctor had mentioned to Julia over dinner the previous evening that looking after numerous wards full of Syndrome children had been *nothing* when compared to trying to deal with their parents. He was spending more time than he had originally envisioned trying to orchestrate an efficient hospital ward start-up. He hadn't considered that the parents would be so difficult in terms of having their movements restricted after boarding the vessel. Especially when they insisted on taking their sick children back off the ship with them while they made their final good-byes with friends and family, or some other seemingly pressing matter. No amount of reasoning with regards to allowing their children rest before the cold sleep seemed to sway their intransigence.
"He'll probably be out there until the last minute, battening down the hatches himself," Julia mused out loud with a chuckle.
"Pardon?"
Julia spun around at the sound of a woman's voice. The question was still plastered on the young woman's face, as she frowned at Julia. The woman was carrying a small box- similar to an old-fashioned cigar box- in her hands, and fingered it nervously as she waited for a reply.
"Oh, sorry," Julia directed at the younger woman. "Talking to myself," she smiled sheepishly. "Doctors' habit, I'm afraid. All those gear med-reports."
The woman nodded and gave Julia a smile that said that she didn't really understand, but was happy to accept and move along.
"I'd better get aboard," she said with a faint hint of what Julia recognized as an American accent from the south. "It's hard to believe we're leaving the day after tomorrow! There's still so much to do..."
The woman disappeared down the gangway, appreciated by numerous watching eyes from the dockside workers. Julia couldn't imagine what it was that the woman found so important to do before departure. Julia had recognized the woman immediately from the medical reports she had just been examining. She was the Earther member of the Advance team. The wife of the level four. 'Probably as nervous as hell about her first cryo-sleep run,' Julia thought to herself. 'She'll probably be unpacking and repacking her bags all night, just to have something to keep her mind off things.' Julia felt just the slightest bit reassured, however, to have someone along who knew about planetside survival. Even with all their supplies and preparations, setting up the New Pacifica colony was bound to meet with some difficulties. Someone to read the planet. Weather for instance. Julia realized she wouldn't recognize an approaching rainstorm if a banshee dropped down from the heavens and personally belted out a tune for her.
Moving away from the viewport, Julia headed along a corridor that headed deeper into the station's belly. She had put aside the day to take a final walk along the shore of the lakeside at her favorite recreation area within the primary ring. And to make one final, important stop.
Julia stared at the plaque, although her vision was focused inwards on all too faded happy memories. She had lost count of the number of times she had stood here, with the lake visible off in the near distance, and read and re-read the gold-embossed words on the only remaining testament to a life that had touched hers so deeply.
"Eloise Porter. From God- to us- to God. Her visit was brief, but we are blessed forever."
Julia reached out and rubbed her fingers over the words, as if in hope that the memories would return with the clarity they once had. She felt the tears begin to well, and she found that she could not hold them back this time. Because she realized, for the very first time since beginning her visits to this place, that they were finally tears of joy.
"This is for you, Eloise. It's finally more than a game. Good-bye my friend."
Julia wiped at the wetness on her cheeks with one hand, and turned and walked away from the dedication wall for the last time.
The room was entirely festive, and the first thing that struck Julia as she walked in the door was the deep, bellowing laughter of Broderick O'Neill, who clutched at a bottle of champagne and wallowed in being the center of attention.
"I guess the party got started early," Julia spoke to no-one in particular.
The large room hosting the party had a wide window overlooking the One-Nine bay, and the Colony vessel filled the view: a marvelous phoenix that had risen from the mire of station bureaucracy, ready to escort them away to a new existence. The ship design was utilitarian rather than architecturalsome might even call it ugly- but what it promised made it seem like the most magnificent object in the universe. Julia caught sight of Dr. Vasquez staring out the huge window, and walked over to him.
"It's hard to believe the time has come," she let out an exhausted sigh. "It seems like only yesterday that was nothing more than a blueprint."
Dr. Vasquez smiled and wrapped Julia's forearm around his so that they were standing with their arms loosely locked, staring at the huge ship. All around them was laughter and excited chatter.
"Julia, this could be one of the most significant events in human history," he mused. "And the wonderful thing about it, is that for the first time in the longest time, it's something motivated by love rather than greed. To be a part of it..." Dr. Vasquez faltered for a few seconds. "I just can't find the words to describe how rewarding that feels."
Julia patted his hand and loosened her arm as she gave the doctor a broad grin.
"Dr. Vasquez, I do believe you're getting all emotional on me!"
He returned her grin with a chuckle as they turned from the window and walked across to the drinks bar.
"It always seemed so much in the realm of fantasy," he continued. "Now that the time is here, I'm not really sure *how* to feel."
"I think everyone here is having difficulty deciding how they feel," said Julia. "All for their own reasons. Leaving loved ones. Looking for a new start. Looking for themselves. It must all be pretty hard to fathom. Twenty-two light years is in another time completely."
Dr. Vasquez nodded his agreement as he looked at the various people in the room.
"I just pray that the people going armed only with hope find what they're looking for..."
Julia cocked her head and studied the doctor for a few seconds.
"There are never guarantees," she said evenly. "But giving that hope in the first place...it's more than anyone else ever tried to do for them."
Dr. Vasquez looked into Julia's eyes and gave her a warm smile. "Thank you, Julia."
With a parting smile, Julia headed into the crowd of people who stood, walked, or danced about the room. There had been no-one in particular that she had really gotten to know since being assigned to the Advance vessel, but the faces were becoming familiar.
The orientation and cocktail party had been arranged by Broderick O'Neill as a final celebratory affair before they headed out into the starry blackness of space, and the turn-out was impressive. Everyone had been invited, of course, but many of the parents of the Syndrome children had chosen to spend the evening aboard the Colony ship with the children to calm their restlessness as the departure time approached. Many of the medical staff aboard the larger vessel had also chosen to mind the hospital ward instead, although they seemed to be taking small shifts in coming in and out of the party for at least a brief chance to enjoy the festivities.
In one corner, Julia could make out the level four talking with his wifethe woman she had encountered outside the ship earlier in the day. The woman was gorgeous, dressed in a stunning purple dress with her golden, curly hair flowing freely. The government liaison didn't appear even half as relaxed as his wife, who was whispering in his ear and giggling as he shiftily darted his eyes around the room, looking out for who knew what? Julia wondered what the woman could possibly see in him- he certainly didn't seem to show her much attention.
A few meters off to one side, Julia caught a glimpse of the Eden pilots as well as a collection of women who had seemed to become engrossed in whatever the conversation was. Julia recognized the Colony ship's pilot as Shelia Willis. Julia had spoken to a her a few times during her involvement with the hospital ward setup, and had enjoyed the pilot's company. She was a no-nonsense woman for sure, even if she did enjoy the company of the arrogant Advance vessel pilot, Alonzo Solace. As Julia looked at the man, he happened to glance her way and gave her a wide smile. She responded by looking away uncomfortably, taking in some of the other people in the room.
Most of the Advance vessel crew were present. Julia recognized them from the remainder of the medical reports that she had examined during the course of the afternoon. She noticed, however, that the Ops crew member she had met outside her quarters the day before didn't seem to be around. Julia imagined that he was probably still tending to last minute maintenance on the ship. He seemed the type. As she thought that, she noticed John Danziger across the room, kneeling down and talking to a little girl seated in an armchair, her face set in an indignant pout. He seemed to be involved in a fatherly-type discourse, and Julia silently chided herself for jumping to conclusions about his overindulgent work ethic.
Julia ambled around the room, nodding and smiling at vaguely familiar faces, and finally came to the edge of the observation window, stopping to glance out again. She was suddenly distracted by the sound of Broderick O'Neill's voice through the partition separating a room that led off of the larger room, with a door off to Julia's right. The door was slightly ajar, and Julia inched her way over to it casually, sipping at her drink and appearing to concentrate the numerous partygoers as they enjoyed themselves.
O'Neill's voice sounded clearer and she could tell from his tone that it was laced with agitation.
"This is ridiculous! What do we have to do to *show* these people we are ready?"
"They're just toying with us," Julia heard a woman's voice. "Trying to stall until the last moment in case we relent and invite them aboard." There was a brief pause before the woman continued. "I wouldn't be at all surprised if they had four or five Council operatives waiting in the wings for just that exact go-ahead. But we are not...we *will* not give in to them."
Julia realized who the woman must obviously be. And from the conversation, it would appear that all was not going quite so smoothly after all. Julia's mind raced at the repercussions. 'They still haven't been given level six clearance!' She wondered what agenda the stalling tactics implied. Julia was positive Adair had hit it right on the button with her comment to O'Neill.
Julia was sure Blalock would have told her if they were planning on stalling. But he had said nothing. 'Could this be outside the Council?', she wondered. 'A government stall?' The authority would come directly from the Port Authority, who answered to the station government rather than the Council. Of course, it helped that Blalock was also the Port Authority Commissioner, although his Council affiliations were completely unknown, of course. But if it were a government ploy, the Council would know soon enough through Blalock. Julia frowned as she tried, albeit without much success, to make sense out of what she was hearing. If it *was* a Council move, she had been left out of the loop. Julia gritted her teeth and made silent epithets towards Dison Blalock. Behind every hidden agenda was another layer of subterfuge. Sometimes it seemed that Blalock was running his own personal Mafia. Things would be so much easier if the Council were a little less shady in their activities. Instead, they continued in their capacity of making the station government delude themselves into thinking they were in control.
"They're going to pull something, I know it!" Julia heard O'Neill pipe up again. "I want both ships on full security alert until we clear those bay doors and sub-space zero."
"Agreed," came Devon Adair's voice. "But we can't let Blalock think we're planning on doing anything other than continuing to follow the bureaucratic red tape all the way to level six. We can't afford any more delays, my friend. Let's not give them a reason, hmm?"
Julia heard motion and moved back towards the observation window as the door opened and Devon Adair and Broderick O'Neill rejoined the party.
Julia watched them casually, noticing how Devon departed immediately while O'Neill resumed his boisterous role of party host. Deciding she was not much in the mood for partying anymore herself, Julia headed towards the door. It seemed almost silly to go to bed less than thirty-six hours before putting the body into a twenty-two year coldsleep, but Julia could feel her eyelids beginning to weigh heavy. It was time for bed. If her thoughts didn't keep her up too long.
Continued in Station Chronicles: Heller and Beyond (10/10)
Station Chronicles: Heller and Beyond (10/10)
by Simon Kattenhorn
Part 10 of 10 (Ch. 5 cont.)
The next day was a busy one. The corridors of the Advance vessel were crowded as people boarded the ship for good and helped secure last-minute cargo. The Ops crew were as industrious as ever, attending to the ship as if it were in need of a major overhaul despite it being the maiden voyage. At one point, Julia was amazed to find the John Danziger fellow dangling from a rope, high up in the ceiling panels of one of the major circuit feeder corridors, which ran along the length of the ship from the command center at the front to the nuclear reactors at the rear. 'Must have worked in construction', Julia decided, shaking her head in dismay as she recalled many an injury she had treated for badly banged up station construction crewmen. 'Some people never learn'. She gave the precariously dangling man a sour expression as he looked back in indignation and shrugged at the doctor's apparent coldness as she continued on along the corridor.
Julia had lingered until the last moment before boarding the ship finally before the officially sanctioned boarding time of 1900. The overheard conversation between Adair and O'Neill the previous evening had been playing on her thoughts the entire day. Julia was half expecting Blalock to come crawling out of the wiring any time to update her on the latest turn of events that she had been *neglected* to be informed of earlier. For a while, she assisted Dr. Vasquez in his tireless crusade to assist the Colony ship stragglers aboard, as they made their good-byes to family and finally boarded. It was important that her hesitance to board not look overly suspicious.
Nevertheless, no word ever came from Blalock. As far as he was concerned, Julia's mission was as fully defined as she would ever hear it. At least, this was all that Julia could conclude.
The official word from the Eden Project command center was that all systems were go for an on-time launch. Julia doubted that this was fully the truth. After all, nothing had been mentioned about the Port Control's stalling tactics before. Why start now? So it was with much reservation and trepidation that Julia finally boarded the Advance ship at 1900. Dr. Vasquez had opted to board late and "risk Devon's wrath", as he had chuckled, in order to assist with the final details of preparation in the Colony ship hospital ward. So Julia had wandered back to the Advance ship alone, confused still about exactly who was pulling the strings. Or why.
Julia glanced at the medical lab's digital chronometer above the doorway. 2156. It was getting late, and Julia considered contacting the cockpit crew to inform them that Dr. Vasquez had yet to come aboard. Devon Adair would undoubtedly be calling on him before too long to tend to her son's runny nose, or something equally trivial, and *she* didn't want to have to be the one to inform her of the doctor's absence. Then, considering the possibility that a call to the flight deck could precipitate an unwanted conversation with the smart-aleck pilot, Julia hesitated. Perhaps she should just call straight over to the Colony ship hospital ward.
"Five more minutes!" she exclaimed at the chronometer, which responded with 2157.
But Julia's attention had already shifted to the glass of water on the tabletop, sitting beside the medical supply inventory she had just been examining. The surface of the water in the glass displayed gentle concentric ripples that danced from the walls of the glass to the center in a continuous flow. Then she felt the vibration in her bones. The ship was moving!
"Oh my God!" Julia felt momentary panic. Launch was not scheduled for another eight-and-a-half hours. Something was wrong!
Julia jumped up and darted out into the corridor, almost knocking over Devon Adair's cyborg sidekick, Yale, in the process, as he was hurrying by along the corridor.
"The ship is moving!" she yelled at Yale, as if the man's perception of ship movement were lacking, requiring him to be informed of the fact.
"Yes, I know," he responded patiently, but with a noticeably worried expression. "I must get back to Uly. He'll be worried..."
Julia grabbed Yale by the shoulders forcefully, and for a moment, the man considered that the doctor was temporarily deranged. Then, she emptied out the sobering news.
"You don't understand! Dr. Vasquez hasn't boarded yet! He's still aboard the Colony ship!"
Yale's eyes widened in shock as the news hit home. Within seconds however, his intellect kicked in as he regained his calm and considered the only available option.
"You'll have to prep Uly for cold-sleep," he said matter-of-factly. "I'll tell Devon."
Julia nodded and watched Yale head off down the corridor without either of them saying another word. Her mind was a whirlpool of fragmented thoughts, spinning around and coalescing into a giant jumble of confusion. 'I'm the only doctor on board!' 'What happened? Are we making a run for it?' 'I'm responsible for Uly!' 'Will the Council try to stop us?' 'Please let Dr. Vasquez not have gotten left behind!' 'Are we in any danger?' 'How are we going to get out of the bay doors?' 'Is the Colony ship ready?' 'I'll have to set up the New Pacifica hospital alone!'
Julia's head was beginning to spin furiously as she stumbled back into the medlab and headed across to the medical supply cabinet in search of something to help clear her head. This was bad! Very bad! What would she do?
Julia found an appropriate sedaderm and applied the medication quickly before sitting down on the stool beside the table holding the glass of water. The surface still rippled gently, almost soothingly, as if trying to demonstrate the tranquillity amongst the chaos. Julia sat transfixed by the fluid in motion and was beginning to feel a sense of calm return when the door to the medical lab burst open, half scaring the wits out of her.
"Oh! Sorry, doctor. I didn't mean to startle you!" Julia recognized the man filling the doorway as one of the senior Ops crew. His folder was amongst the medical files of the Advance crew going planetside on G889. He was obviously out of breath, as if he had been running around vigorously inside the ship.
The man continued into the room and without explanation began ripping open cabinet doors and emptying carefully stacked contents onto the medlab floor.
"What are you *doing*?" Julia's emotions rushed back towards hysteria. As if it weren't bad enough that the ship was departing without Dr. Vasquez, *now* she had a crazed man rummaging through her medical supplies.
"I'm sorry to inconvenience you, Dr. Heller," he politely attempted to explain while continuing with his emptying of the cabinet contents. "But-"
"Somebody's got to tell us what the hell's going on around here!" Julia cut him off shrilly. "We are *moving* and there are people who have not boarded the ship! What are you looking for?!"
"Explosives ma'am," came the man's calm reply. He had successively worked his way around the entire medlab, searching through each, and without further investigation or explanation, rushed back out into the corridor, leaving Julia speechless in open-mouthed shock.
The explosion had hit Julia hard. Not physically, of course- the explosion had occurred hundreds of meters away from ship out in space and was not even perceptible unless one had been looking directly out a viewport at the bright flash- but the mental strain was weighing heavy on the doctor. They had only managed to escape the station and the subsequent explosion by the skin of their teeth.
Nothing made any sense anymore. Blalock was obviously aware of the explosive, she had gathered through sources in the cockpit privy to the conversation between him and Adair. Of course, the level four toad had been yammering on ever since about the events (including significant embellishment that somehow cast him in a heroic light) and what he perceived to be Adair's incompetent handling of Blalock that had led to their early, and near disastrous, departure. Everyone on board was by now aware of what had transpired on the flight deck.
But if Blalock knew about the explosive, that meant he had double-crossed her. Julia didn't put it past the man- there was no love lost between the two after all. But try as she may, there was just no justification for the action that she could find. Her mission was defined. Clearance or not, the Council was along for the Eden mission. There would be no renegade colony, cut off from Council influence entirely. The Council already had an operative on the planet after all, assuming what she had been told was the truth. So why, *why* were they willing to kill all those people- all those children- to prevent the mission's departure? What was so vital and to *whom* that the Eden Project needed to be eradicated entirely, with no hope of recovery? Or survivors.
Julia was entirely overwhelmed. For every question, there were two more questions and no answers to any of them. It didn't help matters to have overheard the Adair woman denigrating Julia's medical capabilities to the cyborg earlier, just as Julia had walked in on the conversation. Julia felt her teeth grind together as the erstwhile resentment she felt for the woman began to resurface. At the time, she had maintained her fully professional exterior as she explained the need to monitor Uly for twenty-four hours after entering him into cold-sleep.
For a while, the Adair woman had returned to the flight deck, allowing Julia to begin prepping the little boy, all the while trying to ease his fears and explain the cold-sleep process patiently as he bombarded her with one question after another. Julia had decided that she liked the little boy after all, despite his having been subjected to being raised by an overbearing mother. Devon Adair returned shortly to kiss her son "good-night" before he entered into cryogenic suspension. This had been Julia's first exposure to the Adair woman's interaction with her son, and she couldn't help but be moved by the sight of the two of them. Uly obviously meant more to her than anything else in the entire universe. Nevertheless, Devon's words earlier had been eviscerating to Julia, and her unapologetic tone afterwards had left Julia angry and hurt. The last thing she needed right now was to have planted seeds of doubt about her own ability to pull off the enormous project ahead meant for Dr. Vasquez's expertise.
Julia stared at the metal ceiling above her bunk as the thoughts ricocheted in her mind. Sleep would not come easily this night. There was no answer to explain Blalock's involvement in the night's events in her mind. And as the Advance ship glided out beyond the furthest reaches of the solar system, the only certainty was that Julia would likely never know. It seemed unfathomable that Blalock might risk the wrath of a *Regent* by conspiring to kill her only daughter. On the same vein, it was incomprehensible to believe that her mother knew *anything* of this. And in her position, her mother probably knew just about everything going on in the Council. Including the ISA.
Julia closed her eyes and hoped that sleep would come quickly. All that she had now, were questions. And a mission. Blalock may have lied to her about that too. What if there *was* no contact on G889? Then she'd be rid of the Council for good, Julia almost felt relief. 'But if the Council contact *is* on G889', Julia thought to herself, 'I must at least try to make contact. There are too many questions to be answered. And for that, my only recourse is the mission.'
Julia shifted in her bunk and relaxed as she felt a sense of resolution. She would have to continue with her mission if she wanted answers.
"I guess it's decided after all," was Julia's last thought as she drifted off to sleep.
-The End-
Thanks for reading my contribution to the Station Chronicles series! I hope you enjoyed it. Please send comments to me at simkat@pangea.stanford.edu. And look out for the next installment of the Station Chronicles, coming soon!
This text file was ran through PERL script made by Andy. Original text file is available in Andy's Earth 2 Fan Fiction Archive.