Bergen bit his tongue. Compton was trained on the GC-MS and could run the air samples. Gibbs, too.
Bergen hated the thought of Gibbs touching her. Gibbs was always joking around with her. He damn well better not be joking now, he thought darkly and pushed himself toward the science station.
He’d just loaded the first sample and was preparing the second when he heard a commotion behind him. He turned to see Jane flailing. She was conscious, nearly naked. It looked like Gibbs and Ajaya had been trying to get a flight suit on her when she woke.
Gibbs went sailing in one direction, Jane in the other. She clutched the blue garment to her chest, her eyes wild and terrified.
“Jane,” Ajaya soothed, in cool, clinical tones, holding out a placating hand. “You are ok. You are safe. We had to get you out of the EMU so I could examine you.”
“I—I don’t remember coming back here. I feel terrible. My head hurts.”
Ajaya approached slowly. Jane flinched but didn’t push her away. Bergen’s heart was in his throat. He couldn’t tear his gaze away as Ajaya finished dressing Jane, murmuring questions and reassurances to her. Jane’s responses were monosyllabic and her movements jerky, though he couldn’t be sure what they were saying to each other.
Behind him, the instrument beeped. Walsh and Compton were speaking softly to each other and Gibbs was looking conspicuously self-conscious. Finally, Gibbs came over, looking like he needed something to do and Bergen reluctantly turned back to the machine. The results for the first sample had just come up.
“Hey, these are—these are good!” Gibbs said.
Bergen squinted at the results, frowning. He hadn’t been sure what to expect from them, but he found them unnerving for a couple of reasons. Gibbs’ remark induced Walsh and Compton to come closer.
“The first sample has been analyzed. I need more time to run the rest of these,” Bergen said.
“This is not only breathable—this is really, really close to Earth’s atmosphere,” Gibbs enthused to Walsh.
Walsh eyed Bergen. “Why aren’t you more excited about this?”
“Because it’s so damn close. I wouldn’t expect that. Oxygen in near perfect proportions. Nitrogen, which I would expect to make up most, if not all, the balance. Trace amounts of CO2 and methane, indicating there are living things aboard. And there’s something else—there’s xenon gas. Four percent xenon seems odd. It seems high.”
Compton looked thoughtful. “We use it for ion propulsion. Perhaps they use it for something. Maybe there’s a leak somewhere.”
Gibbs said, “We’ve only got trace amounts of xenon in our atmosphere, but there are much higher percentages on Jupiter. It might be normal for their atmosphere.”
Walsh tapped the top of the instrument. “What was the atmospheric pressure? Once we got a few hundred yards in?”
Bergen shook his head. “That’s weird too. It was hovering around 14.7 psi. Less, here, near the capsule, due to the fact that we decompressed to open the hatch. But the farther we went in, the closer it got to ideal—sea level, Earth.”
Walsh narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like this. Someone’s in there. They know where we’re from. They’re turning on the lights, changing the gravity. What’s their angle? Why aren’t they coming forward?”
Gibbs offered, “Jane said they might be shy. They might be watching us.”
“Well, we just gave them one hell of a reality show,” Walsh muttered, glancing back at Jane and Ajaya.
Ajaya was zipping Jane into the sleeping bag attached to her seat. Jane’s eyes were closed.
Ajaya’s mouth was set in a line as she approached the group. “I’ve given her something for pain. She has a terrible headache—perhaps a migraine, though she has no history of them, not even of tension headaches. That’s all I can determine. I cannot find anything anomalous.”
“What’s she saying now?” Walsh prompted.
“Not much. I asked her what happened. She said she’s trying to figure that out. She seems reluctant to say more. She needs to sleep. In fact, we’re overdue for a sleep cycle, Commander.”
“I agree. Let’s get out of these suits, have a meal, get some rest. We’ll get back to it in nine hours.” Walsh rubbed a hand over his face. “Keep your weapons at hand.”
Bergen pushed himself into his seat and zipped up the sleeping tube. He turned his head to observe Jane sleeping. Now that everyone else was settling down for rest, he could have an unguarded moment, knowing the others couldn’t see him anymore.
Something had happened to her, but he didn’t have a clue what that might be. She’d been sort of entranced by the symbols on the wall then just flipped out. That wasn’t like her at all. The entire journey, she’d been a rock—affable, even-tempered, kind. She worked hard to keep the peace under incredibly difficult circumstances—and succeeded.
She’d only once shown any sign that the stress was getting to her. It was shortly after getting a data stream from Houston about a month before, filled with personal emails, meant to be a morale booster. Within minutes of the download completing she was silently crying and trying to hide it. It kept happening. Frequently. For days. No one else seemed to notice. He’d seen Ajaya talk to her once, but it hadn’t helped. He started to get angry that everyone was ignoring her suffering, or couldn’t see it, which seemed worse.
One day she had herself tucked into a little nook that she haunted, an electronic reader in hand. He was nearby, eating a meal, when something splashed on his face. He was sure it wasn’t food because he hadn’t opened anything wet yet. He looked up and realized it was a tear that had escaped her efforts of concealment.
He had three younger sisters. He’d observed his parents performing miracles with hugs when they were all small. He’d even stooped to it, himself, when desperate. So, it went against his better judgment, but he just couldn’t watch her struggle anymore.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to draw unwanted attention. He just pulled up close and wrapped his arms around her.
She stiffened at first, then melted into him, tucking her face into his chest, heaving soundless sobs. He waited until she pulled away, murmuring apologies, but he didn’t reply or even meet her eyes. He didn’t want to embarrass her. He just moved away. It seemed to be what she needed, because she didn’t cry again after that.
5
Jane woke up groggy. She jerked involuntarily when she remembered that this wasn’t just another artificially constructed day among the endless, monotonous hours of drifting through space. Something had finally happened. Everything had changed.
The others were going to want answers from her, but she didn’t know what to say. She felt their eyes on her from time to time. She feigned sleep and listened to them making plans.
They were hashing out how to proceed, based on the information gathered so far. Under most circumstances, the crew had been encouraged to make decisions democratically, though the final decision would always be in the hands of the team leader—in this case, Walsh.
Walsh was arguing in favor of going back into the Target wearing EMUs. That pretty much guaranteed Bergen would argue the opposing position. Bergen contended that would waste resources and limit their mobility. When Ajaya, Tom and Ron chimed in with Bergen, Walsh backed down and they agreed to go in unsuited, taking precautions.
The haze of pain had subsided while she slept, leaving her with a dull ache and a fairly clear memory of a surreal exchange. Could that actually have been telepathic communication? Or was it a hallucination? Had the confinement finally pushed her over the edge into madness? They’d coached them in Houston to be prepared for anything, but nothing could prepare someone for this.