She cataloged what she knew. The voice had sounded analytical, cold. Had she been sucked into some kind of computer-simulated virtual environment? Something that tapped into the memory centers of the brain to pacify the user and get information?
She brooded over the memory the voice had conjured. It was always there, tugging at the corners of her mind, reminding her in quiet whispers how life should truly be. Now freshly and wholly manifested in a way she could never have imagined—the three of them, as they were before Australia, warm and loving, in a happy place. She’d never managed to fully recreate that feeling again.
She’d had something like it with Brian for a while, but career and work had come between them, driving it away. There was a time when Brian argued a baby would bring them closer, give them a common goal. It wasn’t a healthy solution for their relationship, but some part of her had longed for that kind of deeper bond. Brian had minimized her concerns about how it could impact her career, promised they would share the load, but he was always too stressed with his caseload or vying for partner to realistically contemplate starting a family at any given time until it was clear it would never happen. That was probably for the best, but it left her adrift, cut off from the warmth she craved.
Why would the voice remind her of that, of her personal failure? Was that memory seething so close to the surface that she selected it herself? Had it been random, or had the voice chosen it, somehow knowing the effect it would have on her?
Layered over all of these questions was a sense of unease. There’d been a disquieting kind of pleasure in hearing the voice that made her feel guilty, like she was a child who’d been tricked into taking candy from a stranger. It inspired an ominous feeling—she sensed that the voice was leashed, held terrible power.
She had so many questions and no answers. She peeked through her lashes at the others. Had any of them been touched by that disembodied voice in the same way? If they had, they weren’t fessing up. That actually seemed like a sound strategy. If it was real, it would try again. The voice had said as much.
With that thought, she set her teeth, released the harness and unzipped the sleeping bag. The movement drew their eyes, as she knew it would. They were gathering equipment. She’d have to hurry to catch up with their preparations.
“Good morning,” she said solemnly.
Ajaya pushed closer. “How are you feeling, now, Jane?”
“Better,” she hedged. “What’s the plan for today?” She met Walsh’s eye squarely.
“Exploration. We go further in.” He watched her warily.
She nodded. “I’ll be ready in moments. You should have woken me.” She pushed off for the food-storage locker.
Walsh’s next statement stopped her. “You and Varma are staying here.”
She grabbed the nearest handhold and twisted around. “What? You need me. I’m—”
“Varma has her orders. These are yours—tell her what happened in there yesterday.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “I’m fine!”
He held up a hand. “Save it. Gibbs will be taking pictures of any language or symbols we come across. They’ll download to your laptop automatically and you’ll be able to hear us over the two-way. Get your ducks in a row and you’ll join us tomorrow.” He turned away to check his gear. They wore oxygen monitors and carried harnesses with emergency air supply, as well as packs holding a day’s worth of ready-to-eat rations, tools and instruments.
Walsh and the three other men slipped out shortly thereafter. She could hear their surprise as they dropped into the corridor below, discussing the fact that the gravity now approximated Earth’s gravity. Was that confirmation that the alien was still working to optimize conditions for them?
Jane bit her lip indecisively. Should she stop them? Ajaya closed the hatch, and the opportunity to speak up was gone.
Ajaya held out a two-way radio. Jane took it from her and began to prepare breakfast out of habit. She hadn’t expected to be left behind. She sipped lukewarm coffee from a pouch and waited for the scrambled eggs to rehydrate. If they didn’t need her to be there, why did they drag her across half of the solar system? She opened her laptop and stifled the urge to slam it onto its velcro pad harder than necessary. She could have studied images on a laptop from the comfort of home.
Ajaya hovered nearby, clearly waiting for an opportunity to do an exam and ask a lot of questions. “Jane? We should talk about what happened yesterday,” Ajaya finally ventured.
At that moment, the first image from the day before came up on the screen. Jane inhaled sharply. Ok—she hadn’t imagined that. She could see the symbol for ‘open,’ even in this format, as having depth and meaning, though her reaction wasn’t visceral this time, only simple comprehension. She swallowed thickly. Maybe she wasn’t nuts.
Ajaya eased closer and peered at the screen. “What is it about these symbols, Jane? They seem to affect you.”
“I—you don’t see it?”
“See what?”
“When I look at this symbol, it expands like a hologram. It relays information.”
“A hologram?” Ajaya indulged her by looking again, then shook her head. “So, at first you saw them as I do and then they changed?” Ajaya’s voice sounded a little too sympathetic for Jane’s comfort.
“I know my reaction must seem extreme.”
“You are under a lot of stress.”
Jane grit her teeth. “I’m fine.”
Ajaya furrowed her brow. “Jane, you must know your guarded attitude is troubling. I would like to do a physical exam. Will you cooperate?”
Jane reluctantly closed the laptop. “Of course I will.”
She waited quietly while Ajaya took her pulse, tested her reflexes and other neurological signs, then asked a series of questions that were meant to determine mental status. She’d been through this exam before, several times. They all had.
When she was done, Ajaya turned to Jane, her fingers tapping the side of her laptop. “Your assessment is the same as it’s been for the last six months or more. You are mildly depressed, but show no other clinical signs of mental infirmity. Physically, you appear to be in good condition. I cannot explain what happened yesterday unless you divulge more.”
Jane blurted out, “Didn’t anyone else experience anything out of the ordinary? A buzzing sound inside their head?”
Ajaya was quizzical. “Buzzing? You spoke of bees yesterday. Why didn’t you say anything?”
Jane considered what to say. “At first I thought it was just nerves. But, it got stronger, building over time. When I deciphered the symbols, it suddenly became unbearable.”
Ajaya looked thoughtful. “And that is when you passed out. Have you experienced tinnitus before?”
“Tinnitus? No.”
Ajaya retrieved her otoscope, examined Jane’s ears at length, then pulled back. “It could be Meniere’s. That’s a disturbance in the inner ear. It can have sudden onset and lead to severe vertigo. Headaches are common with it, as well. It’s very treatable. Do you hear the buzzing now? Are you feeling dizzy or perceiving any hearing loss?”
“No. I feel fine.”
“It can be very intermittent. A year may pass between episodes or they can happen every day. Do you feel any pressure in either ear—now or yesterday?”
“None.”
“I wish I could perform an audiometric exam on you, but I don’t have the equipment. Stress is known to make tinnitus worse, though it doesn’t cause it.” She seemed vexed and stowed away the equipment as she continued, “Your passing out in that moment may have been simple orthostatic hypotension. More than 80 percent of long-flight astronauts experience it. I don’t know, Jane. It doesn’t fit well with one diagnosis and that makes me uneasy. Let’s cautiously watch this. You will tell me if you have any of these or any new symptoms, won’t you?”