The Second Ship (The Rho Agenda #1)(14)
“What do you think? Medical Lab?” she asked.
Jennifer paused in her examination of one of the delicately curved, lamp-like objects. “Some of these are definitely responding to our body readings, but who knows? I tried to focus a question about this thing, but all I get is a sequence of the strange symbols, some warbling sounds, and imagery of the light patterns shifting. I don’t have enough information to make any sense out of it.”
Mark walked over to a doorway into the wall opposite of that where they had entered. Standing before it, he concentrated for several moments. Nothing happened.
“Hmm. Hey, Heather. See if you can get this one to open.”
Heather moved up beside him and pictured the doorway open. A sequence of three-dimensional symbols floated across her vision, so real that she actually reached out to touch one of the iridescent shapes, her hand passing through the space where it appeared without feeling anything. The door remained closed.
“That’s odd.”
Jennifer joined them, having no more success than either of them had enjoyed. “There must be some security code that allows access to this area.”
Mark shrugged. “Or it’s broken. Either way it doesn’t look like we’re getting in there today.”
Heather’s head shot up. Today. What time was it anyway? The question brought a cascade of symbolic imagery into her head until she reached up and pulled off the headset.
“Mark. What time do you have?”
Mark glanced down at his sports watch. “Two thirty-eight.”
Heather began striding toward the exit. “Oh my God. I promised Mom I’d be home by three. I’m already late.”
Jennifer and Mark both followed her, returning their headsets to where they found them.
Together they made their way out of the ship, retrieved the small model plane, including the small piece broken off the right wing, and passed out through the holographic veil that hid the cave entrance. Then, blazing a trail back through the thorn brush, they made their way up the ridge to where they had left their bikes.
By the time they repacked their equipment and completed the ride back to their houses, four o’clock had come and gone. Agreeing amongst themselves not to divulge any of what they had discovered that day, at least until they had taken time to discuss all possible consequences, they parted.
Heather opened her garage, lifting her bike to the twin hooks hanging from the ceiling. Then, after a brief pause to collect her thoughts, she stepped through the door. She had reason to fret. Just inside the foyer stood her mother, arms crossed, eyebrows arched, awaiting an explanation better than she expected to receive.
“Mom, I’m so sorry. We were flying Mark’s new model airplane out on the mesa when a wind gust crashed it into the canyon. By the time we found it I was already late. I rushed back as fast as I could.”
Her mother’s expression showed this explanation was about what she had anticipated, something less than satisfactory.
“Heather, I know how important time with your friends is, but family time is important too. We agreed on three o’clock so we could meet your father for an afternoon matinee before dinner. Since he has to work tomorrow, he took off early to meet us. Do you think it’s fair to make him wait like that?”
Heather’s head dropped. “No, Mom. I’m sorry.”
Her mother sighed, then draped an arm around Heather’s shoulder, making her feel even worse. “I know you are. Let me call Dad and tell him you’ve shown up. Maybe we can make the five o’clock showing.”
“Mom, before we go, have you got any aspirin?”
“Sure. What’s the matter? Did you hurt yourself?” She raked her eyes over Heather’s frame with sudden intensity.
“No, it’s nothing like that. I just have a bit of a headache that I’d like to get rid of before the movie starts.”
“You probably haven’t been drinking enough water today. Grab a bottle from the refrigerator and meet me in the car. I have some aspirin in my purse.”
Despite the water and the aspirin, Heather’s headache intensified throughout the movie and dinner, although she was unwilling to mention it again lest she spoil what was left of her parents' day. After dinner, Heather stumbled to her room, crawling into her bed still fully clothed.
With pain hammering at her skull, she drifted off to a dreamland where alien species fought across the galaxy, world after world succumbing to harsh masters. And while her dreams identified no single alien race, each planetary war was preceded by a common event: the arrival of a lone cigar-shaped ship.
Chapter 9
Heather, who had not missed a sunrise in ages, morning person extraordinaire, squinted through eyes that felt like someone had painted them closed with nail polish during the night. 10:13 a.m. The glowing digital numerals on her alarm clock winked at her, replacing the thirteen with fourteen. She moaned, rolled over, then with an effort worthy of Supergirl, swung her legs off her bed and sat up.
Unlike some classmates, she had never raided her parents’ wine rack, but she was now certain what a hangover might feel like. Even so, the sleep had helped, and although her head still throbbed, it felt better than last night. Right now, all she wanted was to stand under a nice, hot shower and let the pulsating massaging showerhead pummel her neck and head until the hot water exhausted itself.