Nor was it likely to be the last they had overlooked.
“Okay, so it’s in the right neighborhood,” he said, “and near enough to resolve the vitals in real time. What do they look like?”
Ricks zoomed in still further, straining the ship’s resolution capabilities to the utmost. It took a moment for Mother to gather and process the requisite data so he could share it.
“It’s a prime candidate. Point ninety-six Gs at the surface. All the way around the planet. No extreme equatorial or polar gravitational distortions. Liquid water oceans. Scattered land masses, granitic and basaltic in general composition. Can’t tell about motile tectonics—we’re too far out and these are just the preliminaries. Have to spend some time there to acquire that kind of info.” He paused a moment. “Everything points to a high likelihood of a living biosphere. Leastwise, the necessary markers are all there.” His attention shifted to Daniels. “Everything I see suggests a world that exceeds the company’s and your most optimistic projections for Origae-6.”
“You’re sure of all of this?” Looking skeptical, she studied the data on his console.
He grunted. “As sure as Mother’s sensors can be. And we’ve got a damn sight better view of it from here than anyone on Earth did of Origae-6.” The implication of this information escaped no one.
“How did we miss it?” she demanded. “We scanned every corner of this sector.”
Oram was gratified to be able to interject. “View obviously is blocked from Earth. Dense nebulae, dust cloud, periodic flares screening out the infrared—maybe when the searcher for this sector made its pass, this world was at perihelion, on the opposite side of its star from Earth. Or the whole system could have been positioned exactly behind another intervening star or two. Not to mention the tricks that gravitational lensing can play with planetary scanners.” He tried for placating. “Don’t fault yourself, or the program, for the oversight.”
Though Lopé listened as intently as the others, his perspective was more prosaic.
“How far is it? Not from home. From here.”
“She’s close.” As curious as any of them, Ricks had already run the necessary calculations. “Real close. Just a short jump from our present recharge position. Maybe a couple of weeks. At jumpspeed, it wouldn’t even be necessary to go into hypersleep.”
Everyone absorbed that bit of information. No more hypersleep. No more waking up stiff, sometimes sore, with weakened muscles, shouting nerves, churning guts, and a mouth that felt like it had been chewing cotton for a decade. All that, and a potential colony site whose vitals exceeded those of the one for which the Covenant was headed.
Oram noted their reactions before turning to Walter.
“How long until we reach Origae-6?”
“Seven years, four months, three weeks, two days,” the synthetic replied promptly. “Give or take twelve hours, and barring the unexpected.”
“Hell of a long sleep-cycle.” Faris stared evenly at her husband. “Also seven years’ worth of the ‘unexpected.’ Seven additional years of brain and body knockout without knowing how well the ship is coping with the strain.”
“Gotta tell you,” Upworth put in, “I’m not crazy about getting back into one of those pods. I’ve always been a touch claustrophobic.”
Faris made a face. “Claustrophobia is an automatic disqualification for crewing a colony ship.”
The younger woman shrugged. “Okay, so I lied a little bit on the application.” She avoided Oram’s gaze. “Doesn’t bother me once I’m asleep.”
He chose to ignore the confession. It hardly mattered now. Acutely aware that everyone was waiting on him, he knew it was time to act the captain.
“All right, let’s take a look,” he said. “It’s not so far offline from Origae that stopping there will have a significant impact on the ship’s resources. If nothing else, we’ll have some interesting information to shoot back to Earth.”
Whether it was the correct decision or not, he didn’t know. What was plain was that it was the one the crew wanted. Their excitement was evident and unrestrained as they went back to work. Only Daniels and Tennessee looked concerned. While he returned to his station, Daniels joined Oram in gazing out the forward port. Intent on their assigned tasks, no one paid the pair any attention.
“You sure about this, Captain?”
He glanced at her. “What do you mean?”
“I mean we spent a decade searching for a world like Origae-6. The company, its outside consultants, relevant government divisions—everyone and everything was focused on finding the latest, best place to put down a colony. Ten years’ effort by hundreds of specialists engaged in detailed scanning of thousands of systems, to come up with a single optimal candidate. We vetted it, we ran thousands of simulations, we mapped possible terrain based on all the information that could be gathered from a distance—it’s what we all trained for.”
“I understand that,” he began, “but the possibility of—”
Interrupting him, heedless of protocol, she plunged on. “And now we’re going to scrap all that to chase down the source of a rogue transmission?”
He chose not to upbraid her for cutting him off. “Not necessarily for a rogue transmission. For the opportunity to perhaps find a better prospect. One closer and possibly even better suited to our purpose. The transmission, its source, and origin, are incidental.” His expression tightened. “If this world turns out to be suitable for our needs, I don’t care if we ever find the source of that transmission. It can remain a mystery for the colonists to ponder as they’re establishing themselves. A ghost story to frighten children. What matters is if the planet turns out to match its stats, as reported by Mother.” He shrugged. “If it doesn’t, no harm done. We’ll continue on to Origae-6, with little if anything sacrificed in the process.”
She took a breath. “Think about it, Captain. Christopher. A transmission from, by, or about a human being out here where there shouldn’t be any humans. An unknown planet—no, an unknown system—that suddenly appears out of nowhere. And don’t talk to me about intervening cosmic debris, or stellar masking, or anything like that. Here’s a planet that just happens to be perfect for us. Or at least from a distance, appears to be. It’s too good to be true.”
He drew back slightly, startled at her intensity. “‘Too good to be true’? What does that even mean? For a scientist, that’s a pretty colloquial reaction to a still unresolved finding.”
“You want colloquial, Captain. Okay. I’ll keep it in non-technical terms. It means we don’t know what the fuck’s out there.”
Remember what your wife told you, he reminded himself. Patience. Patience and understanding.
“Are you upset because your team missed this system?” he asked evenly. “Or recorded the system, but missed the fourth planet? Or maybe because whoever was responsible for analyzing the scans of his or her fragment of this sector overlooked its possibilities? Even the automated planetary search system itself could have missed it. Computers do experience oversights sometimes. All it takes is one transposed digit and suddenly there’s no potentially habitable world where one actually exists.”
It was hard for her to argue with the unprovable.
All she said was, “It’s risky.”
His reply was magnanimous. “Every colonization represents a risk. The trick is to minimize them. Right now I’m looking at a few weeks in hypersleep for the colonists, versus another seven years plus. Not to mention the enormously reduced wear and tear on the ship’s systems. By making this detour, if it ends up being just a detour, I’m not committing us to anything. As captain, I have to follow the path that’s laid out before me.” Looking back, he nodded in the direction of Ricks’ station.