BENEATH - A Novel (18 page)

The group continued to go over the final details, but Connelly's mind took her in another direction. Their voices faded as she processed what Harris had said. If there is life on the frozen surface of Europa…what will they find in the warmer ocean?

And how will they bring it back?

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The blackness that enveloped Connelly was all consuming. There wasn't a sparkle of light anywhere. She could feel her body, but couldn't see it. If it weren't for the comforting warmth caressing her body, she would have thought she'd been blinded and launched into space.

Where am I?

Connelly knew that the words were a thought but they sounded real in her mind, as though she has spoken them aloud.

Then there was another voice…or voices. She couldn't tell. They were muffled, distant, as though several people were speaking on the other side of a thick wall.

She willed herself to hear better.

Nothing.

But there was one voice slightly louder than the rest. It spoke constantly, but the only word Connelly could make out was
relax
. The voice said the word ever few seconds as though it were trying to calm someone down. Unsure why, she had the feeling that the voice was about to break bad news, or speak some harsh words. That's why it wanted someone to relax.

Relax…

Calm…

Slow down…

Connelly felt herself drifting slowly. Her unseen, immaterial body became loose. Her breathing came slowly and steadily. The warmth massaged her as though she were surrounded by hot tub jets. She experienced bliss.

Then the voice grew louder. The smaller voices disappeared.

The voice spoke a long sentence, but she couldn't make out the words. It was still behind an invisible wall.

Again the voice spoke, but this time, a door between the two rooms had been opened and the voice came through clearly. "
Go home.
"

Connelly felt no fear at the voice. It was masculine in tone and feminine in pitch, but had no threatening quality about it. Connelly waited for one of the lesser voices to reply, but silence was all that followed the command.

The voice spoke again. "
Go home.
"

It was more insistent this time, but still calm, soothing even. Connelly realized that the voice might be speaking to her. "Why?"

"
You shouldn't be here
!"

Connelly felt her nonexistent body recoil. The warmth turned frigid. "Who are you?" she said, her voice shaking.

A faint ruby glow emerged in the distant, pulsing with every breath Connelly took, growing larger with every passing second. The pulses came with a rushing whoosh.

Spinning now, the glow became kaleidoscopic. It continued to grow, spinning tendrils out like octopus tentacles. Then it stopped growing. It sat before Connelly, floating in space, continuously spinning and pulsing like a human heart.

"
Go home,
" the voice said again, having regained its previous composure.

"I don't under—"

"
Go home, Kathy. You shouldn't be here.
"

"But—"

"
Go home
!"

With the quickness of lighting the red glow burst forward, shooting out its tendril's. Connelly's world became bright red and searing hot. She screamed.

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Peterson ignored Harris's command to get some sleep. How could he? They'd found the impossible! And everyone, all the world, had his initial discovery to thank for it. He thought back to the day and remembered his sense of wonder upon seeing the meteorite fall from the Arctic sky. Even in those precious moments, he never dreamed it would take him across the solar system. Of course, Benson's death had put a stain on the whole thing.
Stains fade with time
, Peterson thought. Benson's death, as tragic as it was, would soon be an afterthought.

After staying in his room for an hour and forty-five minutes, an idea struck him, that he couldn't wait to try, and couldn't keep to himself. He'd snuck back to the lab, picked up his prize and hurried to Connelly's quarters. After knocking twice, he let himself inside.

Apparently, Connelly could sleep. In the cool blackness of her room, he could barely make her out on the bed. She was still wearing her jumpsuit, but was sound asleep. He thought twice about waking her, but after heading back to the door, he heard her groan. Looking back, he could see that she was kicking her feet slowly and clenching her fists. An expression of deep anxiety covered her face.

Peterson felt sure Connelly would be thankful to be taken away from whatever nightmare was plaguing her slumber. He moved slowly forward, keeping the glass cylinder he'd picked up at the lab, hidden behind his back. "Kathy?"

He stepped closer as Connelly's tension rose. Her movements became more jerky and her face turned sour. "Connelly, wake up."

On the last word of Peterson's sentence, Connelly burst awake with a flail of hands and feet. She was gasping for air and began feeling her body, apparently inspecting it for injuries.

"Whoa, whoa," Peterson said, "It's just me, Connelly. It's just me."

Connelly looked straight into Peterson's eyes and he saw that hers were full of fear. "It was just a dream," he said. "A nightmare."

As her breath began to normalize and her muscles grew less rigid, she said, "Michael…what are you doing here?"

"I brought you a present," he said.

Connelly rubbed her forehead with her palms. "W—What?"

Hoping the sight of their new discovery would wipe the cobwebs from her mind, he brought the glass cylinder out from behind his back and turned on the lights. At first, Connelly shielded her eyes from the bright light, holding her hands in front of her squinting eyes. Peterson moved closer, so she could have a better view.

Connelly lowered her hands and came face to face with the largest of the Europhid samples. It was still in its glass container and still standing tall, like a proud obelisk. It was only a foot tall, but seemed gigantic compared to the others. Connelly's reaction wasn't exactly what Peterson expected.

She leaned away in fear, but quickly became embarrassed. "Sorry," she said.

"That nightmare have something to do with the Europhids?"

Connelly shook her head, no.

"Because they are quite frightening." Peterson held the Europhid sample out and warbled it back and forth. "I'm coming to get you, Kathy! I'm a scary red cucumber from hell and I'm here to steal your soul!"

Connelly smiled. "Enough," she said. "What are you doing with that anyway?" Connelly checked her watch. "We still have an hour before launch prep."

Peterson smiled. "Exactly. I think a two hour nap is sufficient, don't you? There are much more interesting ways to kill time."

Connelly raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"With the
Europhids
, Connelly." Peterson smiled and shook his head. "I'm heading out. You'll have about thirty seconds before I get lost in this maze without you. If you want in, better make it quick." With that, Peterson headed out the door.

Walking slowly, Peterson did his best to hear what was happening inside Connelly's room. He heard what sounded like rushing feet. Then the door opened and he could hear Connelly quickly approaching from behind. "Where are you going? The research lab is the other way."

"We're not going to the research lab," Peterson said, savoring the moment.

"Where then?"

"The bio-lab."

Connelly's awe returned as she stepped into the bio-lab. Its massive size and grand gardens of flowers, vegetables and full sized trees almost made her forget she was floating in orbit around an alien world inhabited by the most unlikely of life forms. The tangy scent of the flowers filled her nose. She took in a deep breath, wondering if this is what the G
arden
of
Eden
must have been like…sans the plant incubators.

But her awestruck wonder was suddenly replaced by a sense doom. She squeezed her hands into tight fists when a shooting pain rocketed up her forearm. A tightening knot of tension began to form in Connelly's right shoulder blade, pulsing with pain. Was this anxiety? Had her old enemy returned?

No, this is something more
, she thought.
I beat the anxiety years ago.

She relaxed her grip and made a concerted effort to loosen the rest of her muscles, but it was like trying to soften a stone. Her thoughts returned to the strange dream. The images were still clear; the swirling red colors, the anger, and the message.

Go home, Kathy. You shouldn't be here!

"You OK?" Peterson asked.

"Yeah, sure…I'm fine." Connelly rubbed the back of her neck. "Just get overwhelmed every time I come here." Returning her gaze to the bio-lab greenery, a small sense of peace began to return, but not fully. She remembered her childhood dog, a golden retriever named Sarah, and suddenly wished that the GEC had sent more than flowers to comfort them. Sarah would have been perfect.

A loud clunk and the hiss of a sealing container pulled Connelly's attention to what Peterson was doing. After a moment of confusion, she realized what she was seeing. Peterson had removed a tomato plant from one of the larger plant incubators and had transplanted the Europhid sample.

In an instant, she knew what he was planning to do, and couldn't begin to imagine what the effects might be.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Connelly said. "We don't even really know if that's technically a plant yet. Not to mention how many safety protocols you're breaking."

Peterson smiled. "
We're
breaking."

Connelly crossed her arms and gave Peterson a sour look.

"Fine," he said. "I'm breaking. Your objection is dully noted, blah, blah, blah. We have more samples and Europa is covered in them."

Connelly continued her silent protest.

"Anything that happens, transformations, reactions, augmentations, whatever, will be contained inside the incubator. We're safe."

Connelly didn't budge. She couldn't shake the feeling that this was dangerous.

After taking a deep breath, Peterson stood back and slowly let the air out of his lungs. "Look, if this is a plant, it should have some kind of reaction to the incubator. Why spend hours examining it under a microscope when we can find out in a few seconds by flipping this switch."

Connelly scratched the back of her head and crossed her arms again. "Sorry, you're on your own." She turned toward the door and started walking, though admittedly, not as quickly as she could have. She recognized the sound of the incubator being activated. But her determination remained solid. Her feet carried her toward the door.

Peterson spoke as the automatic doors slid open to allow Connelly exit. "Holy shit, it's working."

Connelly's mind suddenly began a hyper-speed ping pong match over staying or leaving. The match lasted a half second. She spun around and saw Peterson hunched over the incubator. He was looking at the Europhid, which was moving back and forth, swaying as though in the wind—and growing.

Connelly crouched next to Peterson. She watched in amazement as the Europhid not only continued to grow, but spread out new shoots, which became their own, new gelatinous bodies.
 
Within thirty seconds the single organism had grown five new specimens, each now nearing three inches tall.
 
Thin tendrils began squirming out, burrowing down into the ruddy, Europian soil, that Peterson had transplanted along with the Europhid.

"Self replication," Connelly said. "They're asexual."

They watched for another ten seconds as the five Europhids continued to expand. As the flesh of one of the Europhid pushed against the glass, Connelly became nervous. What if the glass broke? "Shut it off," she said.

Peterson snapped back to the here and now and switched off the machine. The light hum of the incubator ceased and the Europhid stopped moving. But something new moved beneath the surface.

Connelly focused on the motion. It looked like a snake slithering beneath the sand of a desert. She gasped as a thin red tendril, like a thick worm, emerged from the soil. It slowly explored the inside of the incubator, feeling the glass shell carefully.

With a confused mix of aversion and awe, Connelly watched in silence.

It's moving!

The Europhids can move!

Or could they? Perhaps they had mutated the Europhid by activating the plant incubator? Connelly shuddered at the thought that the human race was new to this world and had already genetically altered one of the native species, the first alien life ever encountered. She now realized that she should have stopped Peterson before he could activate the incubator. It was a foolish thing to do.