“Is that the voice you hear, Jane?” Compton asked her.
“No,” she replied, obviously confused.
Walsh looked skeptical. “What did it say, Holloway?”
She stepped further into the room. She spoke slowly—sure, but full of wonder, “It said, ‘Welcome, Undocumented Citizens.’ ”
The voice spoke again. Jane translated immediately, “Please step onto the diagnostic platform.”
Bergen shot Walsh a pointed look. If Jane was making all this up, it was getting pretty damn detailed.
Walsh walked the perimeter, his weapon ready, with Gibbs and Compton following his lead.
Ajaya stepped close to the platform and examined it. There wasn’t much to see. The platform itself was made from the same material and color as every other surface in the ship they’d seen. It was raised a good half meter from the floor, and the ceiling above it had a recess of the same dimension. When he stepped closer to look up into the vault, he could see it was inset with a dark, glassy screen.
Bergen sighed. “Ok, who’s going first?”
Ajaya straightened. “Walsh’s injuries are the most severe.”
Walsh shook his head sternly. “No.”
“Christ. I’ll go first.” Bergen made to step onto the platform.
Walsh held up a hand. “Hold on, let’s investigate further, before we jump into anything. We don’t know what this stuff does.”
But even as Walsh spoke, Jane had already stepped onto the platform. Walsh’s lips tightened. “Holloway, goddammit.”
A blue-green beam of light emanated from the recessed area above, enveloping the platform from floor to ceiling in a tube of light, casting Jane’s hair and skin in a ghastly, unearthly glow. She looked terrified, but she held her ground.
Walsh took a step toward her. “Holloway, get off—”
The voice, surely an automated computer of some kind, spoke again. Jane translated in a trembling voice, “Unidentified hominid species. Accessing files. Standby.” The light undulated in bright waves up and down her body. The voice, then Jane, “Scanning.”
Ajaya watched as if in awe. “Do you feel anything, Jane?”
Jane shook her head.
The voice spoke again. “Genusis Terrano. Homo sapiens. Afirmeu opu neu.”
Jane said, “Terran species. Homo sapiens. Confirm or deny.”
Compton joined the crowd around the platform. “Terran?”
“That’s the Latin term for Earth, is it not, Jane?” Ajaya asked.
Jane nodded, then said, “Afirme,” and seemed to brace herself.
Bergen swallowed hard, his heart slamming into his rib cage.
A full-sized, three-dimensional, transparent hologram appeared in front of Jane, mirroring her in every aspect, even down to her slightest movements. The voice spoke, then Jane, “Please state your full name for the record.” She raised her chin and said clearly, “Jane Augusta Holloway.”
All color flashed out of the hologram. What was left was a transparent outline of Jane’s body. Then several areas on the hologram began to glow bright red—her hands, the area between her shoulder blades where her hair had touched, and her right leg in small patches. The voice spoke again, this time going on for a bit. Jane hung on every word.
When it finished, Ajaya prodded, “What, Jane?”
“It knows I’m burned with chemical as well as abrasion burns. It knows the chemical I’ve been exposed to and the species it comes from. The proper name of the creatures is Coelusha limax—literally ‘space slug.’ It says when I’m finished it will open a door to a chamber where I can take a medicated shower to neutralize the alkaline substance and then receive polarized light-based healing therapy and a medicated cream to recondition my skin.”
Ajaya nodded slowly, her brow furrowed.
The hologram changed. Jane’s skeletal structure glowed red as well as a few of her internal organs. When the voice finished, Jane said, “It says I have multiple, mild, nutrient deficiencies which can be corrected with either a prescription diet or an infusion regimen.”
“Interesting,” Ajaya murmured.
The hologram transformed again, highlighting a small, t-shaped object in Jane’s abdomen. Jane went quiet and didn’t translate anything. The light went out and she stepped off the platform. One of the doors opened, revealing another chamber. “Who’s next?” she asked.
“What was that last bit about?” Walsh asked gruffly, then motioned for Compton and Gibbs to check out the room that had just opened up.
Ajaya stepped between them. “I know precisely what it was about. Jane and I will discuss it privately, later.”
Walsh didn’t like that answer and he didn’t make any moves toward the platform, so Bergen hopped up next. It was obvious that Jane trusted this stuff. If she could trust it, he could too, because he trusted her.
The blue-green light lit up instantly around him. The voice asked a question. He thought he got the gist of it. He grinned at Jane. “It’s asking if I’m human, right?”
She nodded.
“Afirme,” he answered, mimicking her. She nodded again and produced a slight, tremulous smile.
The voice spoke again and he grimaced. Would he say his whole name, or edit himself? Ah, shit. Jane did. “Bartholomew Alan Bergen,” he said, loud and clear. Jane’s smile went a little wider. He fixed his gaze on her.
Then his hologram appeared. From there it went on pretty much the same as Jane’s stint on the platform had. It highlighted his injuries and nutritional issues caused, he assumed, by the long microgravity flight. He stepped down.
So far, nothing was a surprise. Jane led them there and it checked out as advertised. Everyone turned to Walsh, waiting to see if he would step up there too. It was pretty obvious that he didn’t like how things were unfolding.
Walsh turned to Ajaya. “Varma, recommendations. Do you think these treatments sound safe? How do they compare to what you would do?”
“I recommend they do only the burn treatments, for now. They sound benign and minimally invasive. Alan has a large second-degree burn on his dominant hand that will take weeks to heal—and, honestly, Commander, hand burns are very tricky. All I can do is put a soothing cream on it, control his pain, and hope for the best. This treatment protocol—well, I’d like the opportunity to observe its effects. This ship was built by people with greater technology than our own—on Earth, medical technologies develop on scale with other technologies. I cannot help but believe that Alan and Jane would be better served here than by my own hand. The nutrient infusion can wait until we know more.”
“You want to make them human Guinea pigs?”
“With their consent, sir. I’d like Jane to ask the computer lots of questions about each treatment before it’s begun.”
Walsh’s lips were pressed in a thin line. He sent Bergen and Jane hard, evaluating looks. “Are you volunteering for this?”
Jane nodded firmly and glanced at Bergen. He nodded too. At this point, he’d do anything just to get out of the flight suit.
Walsh turned back to Ajaya. “Fine. Go with them. Make sure they don’t do anything stupid. We’re going to secure the area.”
“Commander—”
“That’s an order, Varma.” Walsh didn’t wait for a reply. He made for the nearest door, opened it, and went inside, gesturing to Compton and Gibbs to follow. They disappeared, leaving Bergen, Jane and Ajaya looking at each other. Jane turned and strode through the door that had been opened for their treatment.
This second chamber was larger, but minimalist as well. Every wall and fixture was the same putrid green color that everything else in the ship seemed to be. There were several alcoves and the walls jutted with geometric protrusions in varying sizes. He wondered if it was for aesthetics or if it were some kind of storage system.