Winter World (The Long Winter #1)(37)

Harry grins. “Welcome to the Alien Artifact Express. Just need to see your boarding passes, folks.”

“Blew out the window on the way.”

He laughs. “I’ll let it slide—just this once.”

“Lucky for us.” I motion toward Emma. “Harry, this is Commander Emma Matthews.”

“Glad to have you aboard, ma’am.”





Chapter 25





Emma





We’re a month into our journey to the Alpha artifact. It has been the most incredible month of my life.

I felt a sense of wonder and awe the first time my capsule docked with the ISS and I floated out into it. This ship is something else altogether. It is a marvel, a wonder eclipsed only by the crew, whom I find even more incredible. Each one has his or her specialty, a job to do, and they have poured themselves into those jobs like lasers carving up the mountain of work upon us.

Grigory, the Russian engineer, obsesses about engine efficiency, constantly muttering to himself as he floats around the ship.

Charlotte, an Australian linguist and archaeologist, has spent every waking hour writing out her first contact protocol, only stopping to check with James and Harry to see if the drone can do this or that—and sometimes with Lina to see if her ideas can be programmed.

Min, the Chinese navigator, has busied himself plotting alternative courses both to Alpha and back home, based on every scenario he can think of.

The ship’s physician and psychologist, Izumi, a Japanese woman about ten years older than I am, floats in and out of the pods, constantly checking on us, like a mother hen prowling a nest.

I’ve spent my time with James and Harry, and I admit I’ve enjoyed it. They have a quirky dynamic—a mix of competition and camaraderie. They work mostly independently, designing the drones and then showing each other what they’ve come up with. It’s a sort of game between them to see who can one-up the other with new functionality or efficiency. They debate the merits of every idea, but they’re not combative. For two competing scientists, there’s no ego. They’re supportive and even jovial with each other.

And there’s something else, too—a certain protectiveness Harry has for James. Harry is maybe fifteen years older, but I sense that there’s something more. Maybe it’s related to what happened to James in the past—the trouble he got into. The trouble he’s refused to tell me about every time I’ve subtly brought it up. I don’t dare ask Harry, though I badly want to know. I wonder why that is. I’ve told myself I’m being thorough, because it’s important to know all you can about your crew. But I know that’s not it.

For the most part, I spend my time in the robotics lab soldering and welding. I’ve got the most dexterity in space of all the crew, except perhaps Min, and he’s got his hands full. I like the work. I like being useful and being part of a crew. It keeps me from thinking about the crew I lost. There’s a deep well of hurt there. My mind runs across it every now and then, and a surge of pain hits me. That place in my mind is sort of like the sprained ankle and bruised rib and sore spots all over me: I forget until the pain reminds me. Those wounds will take time to heal—how long, I can’t even guess. But with each passing day, as we voyage away from Earth, the hurt dulls, and I come alive a little more.

At the outset, I asked if we had enough food and water for everyone on board. The mission was slated for six. With Harry and me added to the crew, the food requirements are up thirty-three percent—and we lost two capsules, or seven percent of our supplies. James assured me we are well stocked. I hope it’s true.

Every now and then Lina comes into the lab to discuss the software for the drones. She’s working on one operating system with drivers for all the different potential hardware designs—which are all over the map: everything from a simple camera drone to a drone with arms to a drone that can assemble like the ship and bore a hole in the artifact. It’s pretty incredible. James has designed comm patches for the drones that can relay data back to the Pax without sending an electronic signal.

And now he and Harry have a big idea they’re pretty nervous about. They’ve called an all-hands meeting to present it, because it will take every one of us to pull it off, and it won’t be easy. It will also risk a huge amount of our drone material. It’s a risk. But we have to take it.

We just have to convince the others.





Chapter 26





James





The crew meets in the largest space on the ship, at the intersection of the major arms. The space is roughly spherical. It has a technical name, the such-and-such, but we’ve all taken to calling it the bubble. There are windows in several directions and a round white table in the center that everyone can strap themselves to.

Emma, Harry, and I have called the meeting to present a plan we think could drastically up our chances of success. It’s a risk, however. I’m a little nervous about it—the meeting, that is—because this is the first major decision point we’ve faced as a crew. It really could go either way.

When everyone’s assembled and floating around the table, Harry opens the meeting.

“We want to send a fleet of drones ahead. We’re calling it the Janus fleet.”

“Objective?” Grigory asks.