Paphos, p.1
Paphos, page 1
I dedicate this book to Jules, who taught me about the girl in this book, Carolina.
A special mention to my wife, Taylor, for her ability to inspire me, and another special mention to Walt Boyes for reigniting the fire in me.
CHAPTER 1
Austin hated this. “Don’t be nervous,” he told her. This part of the voyage was his least favorite, but he’d keep that to himself.
His twelve-year-old daughter, Carolina, glared at the bulkhead next to him.
“It’s not so bad, landing is really easy, almost fun,” he said, trying to sound convincing. No getting around it, she was nervous and being difficult because of it. He hated guessing what to do about all of her moods. Eventually, Austin chose water, so he filled a cup from the spout and brought it to her, sloshing the tiniest bit. They both needed a break, and that wouldn’t happen until touching down on the unexplored planet, Paphos. This was cabin fever, that’s all.
“Here, you should drink this. Planet entry takes a while, might get thirsty.”
Carolina ignored him. He exhaled, a long and deliberate move that kept him from getting upset. Her mother would know what to say. “We only have a minute before the ship starts. Don’t princesses like water?”
“Ugh,” Carolina rolled her eyes. Frustration swelled. Didn’t she like princesses? She used to, he knew that much, when she was four. Twelve-year-olds didn’t like princesses? Probably not, he guessed. He rubbed his head. This would only be for a few months; he could handle it. He had to handle it. At the end of the calendar summer, he and his research team would pack up and head home, and her mother would be well enough to take her back. And as soon as he thought it, he regretted it. He wanted this time with her; he wasn’t as involved as he should be, and this was his chance to make up for it. He swallowed the water and stowed the cup.
“Everyone, finish strapping in, this one’s choppy, lots of stratospheric winds,” their pilot and team leader, Dmitry, said over the intercom. The cruiser about to shuttle them planet-side was much smaller than the Orbiter that brought them here, a deep space rig that waited in a geosynchronous pattern for their return. Carolina was getting visibly nervous now, not just moody. Personally, he hated re-entry too. But for her sake, he wouldn’t let that show.
“Okay, we’d better get buckled now,” he said, fussing with her belts and latches. Once she was locked to the chair, he carefully slipped the helmet on over her head and secured it, being certain not to yank her long chocolate hair. As soon as he was done with her, he strapped himself in and struggled with the first wave of nervousness.
“I’m thirsty now.”
Austin gripped the armrests. “It’s a little too late for that, kiddo.”
“My throat is really dry,” she pleaded.
“Wait until we land.”
“I won’t make it,” she cried.
“I said no!”
He regretted it the moment it happened. He regretted it every time it happened. Did she do it on purpose? This wasn’t how he had pictured bonding with his daughter.
Now the cabin was too quiet, as if his crewmates silently cursed him for bringing young Carolina along. When he stole a look from the corner of his eye, she had her helmet angled down. The face he pictured was likely worse than the one she actually wore, but that didn’t make it any better. Okay, maybe he had enough time to get her water. Again.
With a grunt, he unlatched himself. Artificial gravity hadn’t kicked off yet; he could do this. He filled another cup of water and grabbed a straw.
He slid her visor open, as taking the helmet off was a real pain. He thrust the straw in the cup and handed it to her.
She wouldn’t touch it.
“What?”
“There’s a floaty.”
“Won’t kill you. Drink it anyway.”
“That’s disgusting,” she said as she crossed her arms.
Out of the six researchers here, one of them might be willing to babysit for the next three months. It would involve a bribe. Don’t even think it.
Austin slapped her visor shut and plopped into his seat with more force than he wanted, trying not to fling buckles or yank belts as he secured himself for planet entry. The last latch snapped in place just in time as the rockets engaged. They lurched with a drop in speed, and the ship angled slowly over its end for a standard reverse entry, guided by sporadic dazzles of popping thrusters. With that, his stomach yelled objection! Upside down and around, he was in it now. This was just how you entered a planet’s atmosphere.
He watched as the cup he forgot to stow floated in the air, the water dancing in a globule. Damn it… he ignored the glares from his team. Its contents fell upwards, and the cup rolled into the air.
There, natural gravity. The water and the cup felt it too. Something jarring about natural gravity when the faux-grav was all you knew for months. That first sensation didn’t always register smoothly. He prayed it did this time, especially for his girl. It wasn’t the worst, but he held his stomach just in case.
Breathing out was the trick as the cruiser started to shake. Shaking meant they were passing through layer after layer of atmosphere at speeds that sounded makebelieve. Every time his hands jumped, he exhaled long and slow, tightening his abdomen. Somehow, that made turbulence feel better. He looked over and found Carolina had gone pale, but her face was determined. Brave kid.
The vessel shook fiercely until it finally passed through the atmosphere. As the air thinned, the turbulence eased, and they coasted pleasantly after that. Austin knew where they would set down; he helped pick it out from the planetary photos. Despite his earlier frustrations, which stemmed from his guilt over his daughter, his thoughts now began swimming with some excitement. This would be his fourth planet to jot down in the books. They would explore and document another untouched planet for the archives back home, adding new plantae to their databases. No teams had yet logged animalia, those vicious alien lifeforms, or even non-vicious ones, just plants. But the plantae were exciting enough. Exciting enough for the archives and explorers anyway. Life was not uncommon, but the Kingdom Animalia of Earth remained an anomaly.
The shaking had subsided, and he gazed eagerly out the porthole. The horizon was blue and purple, and he could easily see the outer lines of Paphos’ rings. As they descended through cloud cover, rich green forests protected everything in all directions, changed only by mountains and brightly colored riverbeds that snaked like slain leviathans. Paphos was smaller than Earth, but it was similar in critical ways. Paphos was part of a single star system, and like Earth, it had neighboring planets in its system, most of them gas giants, all of them barren. Paphos’ tilt yielded tropical weather almost everywhere, and the air was a breathable cocktail of oxygen and nitrogen thanks to that lush forest.
Of course, they all carried personal air devices, just in case.
Paphos wasn’t the first of its kind, but it was still something to behold as the team took in the view. He hoped Carolina shared at least some of the excitement, as this was the particular moment he had been looking forward to with her. But when he gazed in her direction, her head was just down at her lap.
Dmitry was their pilot, a skilled pilot who could maneuver in any weather, but even a rookie could handle the Landers their company provided. Austin raised his hands out and then let them drop, feeling the effect. He couldn’t say how natural gravity was any different, but it just was. He had argued with Helena over it, as the popular vote seemed unable to distinguish between faux-grav and the real thing. The real stuff hadn’t jarred his equilibrium, thank God.
He looked out the porthole again to take in the view as planetary details became increasingly visible. Orange, purple, and green swirled in ponds dotting the forests below. He’d seen preliminary photos, but those weren’t the same. They’d be nearing the quadrohuts soon, their base of operations, which had been sent and constructed ahead of time via drones and automated robots. He spotted them a minute later. The lights were on, which meant they had electricity. Always a miracle to find the quadrohuts fully functional. Usually, the robots get stuck on the littlest things.
The vessel docked easily with popping stability boosters before gently settling down on flat ground. Carolina released a sigh of anxiety and eagerly rocked back and forth. She unlatched her helmet, her face red and sweating.
“It’s going to be a few minutes, kiddo, you need to put that back on,” Austin said when she started clawing at her buckles. Before he knew it, she was out of her seat and trying to open the emergency-release door.
“Carolina!” She didn’t hear him without her helmet. He flipped his visor open and yelled her name again, but she wasn’t listening.
He unlatched himself as quickly as he could. He knew what the crew must be thinking; yet another example of why family, friends, and kids shouldn’t come on expeditions. He set his helmet aside and fiddled with his latches.
“Calm down, we can’t open that yet.”
“I need out!” she cried, the telltale signs of panic as she tugged against the emergency release. Then the door hissed open and slid out, forming a ramp. Pollen-rich air filled their cabin, earthy and strong, warm, abrasive.
“Damn it!” Austin yelled above the protests of crew members.
Carolina was fleeing down the ramp. He wasn’t supposed to breathe this air yet; none of them were. There were safety procedures first. Officially, the air on Paphos was determined to be breathable, but this was a hell of a way to find out for sure. She disappeared down the ramp, her hair trailing behind. He sent the last latch flying and chased after her, raising his hand to block the intense light. So much for protocol, so much for safety tests. He almost fell down the ramp when the blinding light met him outside the ship. He wasn’t about to run, not with his balance still adjusting. This was going to get them both in trouble.
“Carolina!”
It was about as useful as the last time he said it.
“What happened?” called Dimitry. The other crew members groaned, not that Austin could hear them. But he felt them, felt their judgment. He rushed after Carolina, his equilibrium struggling. The protocol didn’t exist anymore.
For a twelve-year-old, Carolina was fast. The green and pink bushes were taller than she was, and she was getting far enough away that he could barely hear the rustling of her body weaving through them. If he lost her on this planet, her mom would never forgive him. He bolted into a sprint and almost toppled over a gnarled root. Between the foliage and his equilibrium needing to settle, it was tough to run. Cursing, he took a breath and tried again, willing his feet to get steady. Fresh, yet-to-be-named giant foliage parted as he ripped through them, but the sudden intake of pollen-heavy air was a little much. Foreign pollen and gravity, those things took time.
How Carolina was managing it, he could only wonder. He realized then that this was her panic mode. His eyes were sharp and focused now, having adjusted to solar lighting. He sped around a U-shaped tree, his legs feeling like clay. The ground was steady enough in this part, even if his legs weren’t. He’d never trampled on alien vegetation that he hadn’t studied yet.
Kids.
He found Carolina doubled over, hands pulling at her throat, gasping and choking. Foreign pollen danced in the air around them, kicked up by her commotion.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, scooping her into his arms. She gripped him with a strength he didn’t know she possessed. He hadn’t held her like that since, well, not since she was three and had woken up from a thunderstorm.
“Breathe and relax, you’re okay, calm, calm,” he soothed. The anger, the frustration, it wasn’t there anymore. When he saw her in need, everything else faded away.
Beams of sunlight pummeled through his sweat-matted hair; they needed shade sooner rather than later.
“Are you okay?” he finally asked.
She answered with a nod, standing upright with stiff shoulders. He’d been ready to throttle her a minute ago. Now, like an idiot, he realized he should have coached her on some first-time fears. He should have made it easier on her. Here she was, far from home, on an alien planet, with her dad, whom she barely knew, and she was just a kid. She was twelve, sure, but she was always going to be a kid to him. She took a few more deep breaths, each one slower than the last, as color returned to her face.
“I’m okay,” she said.
He put his hand on her shoulder, which suddenly seemed cold. “We need to head back, then.”
She replied with a nod. He scruffed her chocolate hair, but her mood didn’t improve the entire hike back.
It took him a moment to figure out where ‘back’ was, and he usually had a strong sense of direction. The trail of matted plants helped.
When he returned, he found the rest of the crew had disembarked, and he wondered how long he had before Dmitry yelled at him about this. He looked at Carolina.
“Seems you’ve inspired them. They usually take hours to get off the ship.” His smile didn’t seem to do much for her.
“I’m sorry, I just…” Carolina began before losing the words. She didn’t need to finish; he knew what she was trying to say. He didn’t know what to say either, and they both lingered in the silence.
“Do you smell that?” he asked, and then an unnecessarily loud inhale through his nose. “Rich and fresh, completely un-modified pollen,” he said with a champion smile. She raised an eyebrow.
“Not a single genetic modification or pollutant. You try.”
“Pollen?”
“It’s amazing, I swear. Nothing like it,” he said, drawing in another over-sized nose-inhale. One of the crew members shook their head as they walked by.
Carolina closed her eyes and pulled in half the inhale through her nose before gagging and coughing in small fits.
“Nope, you gotta go deep, get the full effect. Open those nostrils,” he said, showing off once more.
“Stop doing that.”
“Not until you try it.”
She closed her eyes and tried the most obnoxious nose-inhale she could. It gave him a chance to notice the dried tears on her face, cracked under a sudden smile. They both laughed then. He couldn’t remember the last time they laughed together.
“Come on, we may as well check out our headquarters.”
Ironically, after being cooped up for months, the first thing they all wanted to do was get inside. He stopped Carolina with a serious hand in the air. “No more running off. Deal?”
She nodded, brown eyes sincere. “Dad, it feels funny here.”
Austin gave a tiny smile. “That’s normal… because it’s not Earth, and it’s not the faux-grav we’ve endured for six weeks. But our bodies will feel normal in a day or two. We will adjust.”
Dmitry and the rest of the crew—who were Dublin, Orlean, Helena, and Athen—then mustered outside the door of the quadrohuts, waiting for the pilot to disable the security door.
Drop stations like this were standard and made nice dwellings. All manned expeditions used them, and they were auto-assembled by the drones that preceded them. The drones were still there, mostly gardening and performing basic maintenance for the remainder. Athen and Dublin, with whom Austin worked with last summer, were the team’s engineers and took care of the equipment. Analysis and documentation were handled by Orlean and Helena, the tedious but necessary side of this job. Every crew needed a specialized programmer, and Austin was the lucky one to get that role. Dmitry was in charge, serving as both the company representative, their medic, and pilot. They were a seven-person crew, counting his daughter.
Any family member was allowed to accompany a company assignment, provided their sponsor covered the expense. It was a seldom-used policy. Considering the time an expedition took, it wasn’t practical to bring family, but it made a great face for the company to offer it nonetheless. Most crew members never took advantage of it, because deep down it was viewed to be in poor taste, not to mention the cost involved. But Austin wasn’t as concerned with his career of late, and Carolina’s mother helped with half the cost. And while Austin was second in command, he knew he’d never have his own ship. He didn’t play the company game well enough, and more than that, he didn’t care. When Mom got sick, bringing Carolina made the most sense.
Carolina stayed by his side as they huddled outside the quadrohuts, taking in the alien vegetation of their surroundings, waiting for Dmitry to open the doors. He seemed to be having a hard time with the security password.
“We’re locked out…” he finally said. “I’ve never had that happen before.”
“Tis’ there a problem?” Dublin asked. He would gladly use a wrench to fix this.
Dmitry gave a frustrated grunt and tried the security code one more time. “It’s the right code, I don’t know why it won’t open.”
“So now what?” Helena asked.
“We all fly back,” Orlean smirked.
“Bloody hell! Let me at it,” Dublin cursed, digging into his tool bag. He pulled up something large.
“Stand down. We want the door to work.”
“I only break a wee-bit!” Dublin’s accent thickened when he got excited.
“Dublin…” Dmitry said, shaking his head. “One thing at a time.”
“That’s one,” Orlean whispered with a little smile.
“I guess I’ll have to reset the codes from the Orbiter; it will take me a minute. We’re off to a great start so far.” Dmitry removed a personal transmitter and began his interface with the Orbiter, entering override codes and finally resetting the door. The team waited, passing a few nervous smiles. This far from home, it didn’t take much to make you feel doomed.
The technical issue has been resolved, and the door is finally open. They all went inside and dropped off their gear with rehearsed precision, except for Carolina. Dmitry planted himself at the quadrohut’s internal computer and logged in for a diagnostic. Aside from the security issue moments ago, everything appeared in order.
