I don’t want another Junior. I don’t want someone to get stuck between two times or two dimensions or two universes.
I want to be cautious, and in this, as in everything else, Karl agrees.
Everything seems to be going fine, and despite my discomfort, my mood has improved. The divers are enjoying their dives, and no one has had a close call or been injured.
We’re not lulled into a complacency, however. We know that the worst part of the dive is ahead, and that it belongs to me.
I’ve been preparing, and not just in my visits to the Room. I’ve spent most of my free time examining Riya’s device. I’ve run it through my computers, trying to find its origin, and cannot.
It is made of familiar materials, but they’re grafted onto a center that I do not recognize or understand. The materials in that center aren’t anything like what I found on the Dignity Vessel or here at the station, and for that I’m relieved.
It doesn’t seem to do much when it turns on—I get a small energy spike, and lights run along the edges of the device. But I don’t sense the bubble or see a momentary shimmer or something that would imply an actual shield going around me.
But a lot of things work without being obvious. And I’m not testing the device in zero-g. I’m testing in Earth normal, in full environment. I don’t want to test it outside the ship, in case I cause problems.
I wish I knew more about the device, but Riya can’t tell me much. She says she got the shield through her father’s connections.
She can tell me nothing else.
So I memorize the exterior dimensions of the Room, so that I can find the edges even if I can’t see them. And I try to ignore the music in my head, which seems to grow each and every day.
“Grow” isn’t exactly the right word. The music plays a little longer each time I “hear” it. It isn’t louder or any more insistent. It’s just harder to shut off.
I’m actually becoming used to it. In the past it would distract me and I would have to concentrate on anything outside myself while the voices sang. Now they’re a background accompaniment, and I wonder if I would actually notice them if I weren’t planning to go back inside the Room so soon.
The night before I go in, Karl calls me to his quarters. I haven’t been up to them since I assigned them. I’m startled to see that he’s blocked the view of the station but has left the portals that open to the space views clear.
He’s sitting near the clear portals, his back reflected in them. His eyes are wide, and for the first time since I’ve given him control, I worry that he’s not up to it.
Something has unsettled him.
“You okay?” I ask as I sit across from him. My back is to the station. Although the portals are opaqued against it, I can feel it looming, almost as if it’s a living entity, one that grows and changes and becomes something else.
“I’m a little uncomfortable,” he says, and shifts in his seat as if to prove the remark. “I’ve put this conversation off too long.”
I stiffen. One of the risks of giving him control is that he would keep it, that he would make the mission—and in some ways, the ship—his. I trusted him not to do that, but that trust suddenly feels fragile.
“What’s going on?” I ask, careful to keep my voice calm.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about tomorrow’s dive,” he says. “I don’t think you should do it.”
The words hang between us. I make myself breathe before responding.
“Have you seen something that makes the dive untenable?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “The dive is fine. I think we should go ahead with it. I just don’t think you should be the one to go in.”
My face heats. “That’s the whole point of this mission.”
“Going into the Room to recover Commander Trekov is the point of this mission—the central point, the one you and I agreed on. But this whole mission is larger than that, and we’re learning some great things. We wouldn’t have done that without you.”
He clearly planned that little speech. It sounds forced.
“Who’ll go in?” I ask.
“Me,” he says.
“Alone?” The word squeaks out. I’m surprised and can no longer hide it.
“I have the most dive experience next to you,” he says.
“Actually, that’s not true. Odette does.”
“All right, then,” he says. “You and I have the most diving experience on dangerous wrecks. She’s spent the last fifteen years on tourist runs.”
“Like me,” I say softly.
“You haven’t spent fifteen years at it, and if that were the only problem, I’d ignore it.”
I want to cross my arms and glare at him. But I don’t. I put him in charge for a reason. I’m going to hear him out.
“So what are the other problems?” I ask.
He takes a deep breath. “Your father, for one.”
“I don’t like him,” I say. “We have history. So what?”
“You have a shared history. And it has to do with the loss of your mother.” Karl folds his hands across his knee, then unfolds them. He’s clearly nervous.
“We discussed this,” I say. “That’s why you’re in charge.”
“I know,” he says. “But that loss is significant. It caused the rift between you two, and it changed both of your lives. I’ve heard your story about the Room, and you were entranced by that place.”
“I was happy to get out,” I say, repeating what my father told me.
“But you went in willingly. What if the Room causes some kind of hypnosis? What if you’re still susceptible to it? It’s irresponsible to send you in on the first dive.”
I’m about to protest when I register the word “first.”
“You think there will be more than one dive?” I ask.
“There has to be,” he says. “We do it by the book. We map and observe and then we discuss. If we’re going to remove something from the Room, we do so on the final dive.”
“So you want to do at least four dives,” I say.
He nods. “The problem is that we only have one device, so only one of us can go in at a time. You’ll be looking for your mother. You know you will—”
I’m shaking my head, but deep down, I know he’s right. Of course I’ll be looking for her. And for Commander Trekov, and the others trapped in that place.
“—and you won’t be focused on the small but necessary details. I will. I’ve made a point of not looking at your mother’s image or Commander Trekov’s. Even if I see them, I won’t recognize them. They’ll be part of the entire package. I won’t be tempted to move too quickly.”
I swallow hard. “Why not send someone else in? It’s a risky mission. You’re in charge. You should stay out here.”
“It is risky,” he says. “But you’ll be out here. And if I can’t survive with that device, no one else will be able to either. So you’ll abort and get everyone out of here.”
“We can make that decision together,” I say. “Send in another diver.”
“Who? Odette? Mikk? Who are you going to send in, knowing that most people who have gone inside that Room have died? Are you willing to risk their lives?”
I don’t say anything. We both know that I wasn’t when I hired them. I knew there was only one device and I would be the one to use it. Everyone else was brought in, initially, to help extract me from the Room, not to go in and explore.
“I’m not willing to risk yours either,” I say.
“You don’t get a choice.” He’s calmer now. His gaze meets mine. Those gray eyes reflect the darkness of the portals behind me. “You put me in charge.”
“But I still have the device,” I say. “And I’m not giving it to you.”