That grew. That was the word. The corals were growing into vegetation of some kind.
Or possibly quasi machines like the Sentry.
Zack wanted to put more distance between himself and whatever was happening in this chamber. In fact, he would have been completely satisfied to be watching these events through a TV camera while safe aboard Venture.
Or better yet, back in Houston. He had been frightened before; now he was terrified. It wasn’t just the shocks and the violence . . . it was knowing he was out of his depth, so far beyond a comfort zone that he could no longer remember what it was like to operate normally.
He turned back to the Beehive, hoping for a last glimpse of Lucas, but the World’s Greatest Astronaut had likely let fear fuel his retreat, because he was long gone.
Zack had nothing else to do but look at the Beehive. Now he could see that some of the cells here had changed, too. Formerly open, smaller ones and at least two jumbo units were now sealed, covered with some kind of translucent film that swelled.
That almost breathed—
“This is stupid,” Natalia announced, hauling herself to her feet.
She was already up, if unsteady, and heading back into the chamber before Zack could reach her. “Movement adds heat, kiddo. Don’t run off,” he told her. He peered into her helmet . . . it was so fogged over he could barely make out a face. “How is it in there?”
“Hot and wet. Feel like I’m drowning.” That sounded terrifying. Learning to live and work in suits, under pressure, without succumbing to claustrophobia was one of an astronaut’s biggest challenges. And that was when the suit was operating properly.
If Natalia felt as though she were drowning, she probably was. And Zack could do nothing to help—
“I’m going to try something,” Natalia said. She raised her arms, hands touching the sides of the neck ring where her helmet was attached, and unlocked it.
“Hey, Natalia, that’s not a good idea—!”
Too late. The cosmonaut raised the bulky helmet off her head, revealing a wet face and the reddest complexion Zack had ever seen on a human being.
How long would it take for her to die? Would she turn blue from lack of oxygen? Or would she freeze . . . or begin twitching and shuddering like the Sentry?
None of those things happened. She opened her eyes then, looked directly at Zack, smiled, and inhaled.
She was racked with a coughing spasm. “You tried it. Now put the helmet back on,” Zack said. She’d lost precious minutes of oxygen, but she hadn’t killed herself.
But the coughing stopped. And Natalia said, “I’m okay.”
Zack was surprised that he could hear her words, slightly muffled by his own helmet. And surprised that she was still alive, in no more distress than when sealed up in the suit.
“It’s oxygen,” she said. “I saw it on my spectrometer. Ratio is high, maybe thirty percent . . . but pressure is still low here.” She took a deep breath again. “Feels like being on a mountain top. Dry. Lots of smells I can’t identify.”
“Don’t get too comfortable,” he said. He was happy to know that Keanu’s environment was less immediately hostile than open space—at least if you steered clear of things like the Sentry. “Think alien organisms.”
“This place was a hundred degrees below zero a few hours back. There shouldn’t be anything alive.”
“And look at it now.” She was edging back into the chamber, toward the dead Sentry, and Pogo.
“Where are you going?” Because Zack was still using radio inside his helmet, and she was not, she barely understood him. He repeated himself, shouting.
Then she nodded, understanding him. And said, “I always wanted to do an alien autopsy.”
Zack did not follow. He considered his own consumables, the likelihood that Lucas would take longer than expected to return . . . and the fact that Natalia seemed just fine.
And without her helmet, he could not easily hear her.
Was it responsible? At the moment only Natalia was exposed to the Keanu environment—and by extension, Brahma. The Venture was still safe, and so were Tea and Yvonne.
Idiot: Whatever contaminants you would breathe with helmet off are already coating the exterior of your suit! Besides, the gravity was still increasing . . . Zack was finding it hard to move.
Not that he was eager to go far. He could see Natalia slowly circling the dead Sentry, occasionally raising her camera, then shifting to her spectrometer.
But Zack was intrigued by what he was seeing in the Beehive cells. They were continuing to swell and discolor. At moments he thought he could see shapes inside several of them.
That was disturbing: the color of the cells was exactly like that of the bubble that had disgorged the Sentry.
God, what if there was some link between the Beehive and the Sentry? Zack was torn between an immediate desire to head directly toward Natalia . . . and a horrid fascination for what was happening here.
Shit. His suit was hampering his ability to get close enough to see.
With one last glance at Natalia, happily performing her alien autopsy, he embraced the decision he had actually made moments earlier.
If the environment within Keanu was changing to suit humans—an idea that was now inescapable—then logic said it would not harm him. It certainly wasn’t harming Natalia.
He stopped the airflow inside his suit, saving it for the return trip through the membrane, then cracked the neck seal of his helmet.
He was immediately struck by the smell of Keanu, a combination of wet soil and fragrances he could not identify, but which were not unpleasant. Something was growing here—with a hell of an accelerated incubation period.
He took in a deep breath. Actually found it invigorating. “Hey,” he called to Natalia. “You were right.”
Startled by the sound of his voice, she looked up. “I still feel good.”
“See anything interesting? Is it man or machine?”
“Both, I think . . .” She stopped, staring past Zack in a way he didn’t like.
“Do you see something, Natalia?”
“Yes.” He could barely hear her. “The Beehive.”
There was no escaping it. He turned.
Several of the smaller cells in the Beehive were now transparent . . . and the shapes within them could be clearly seen. Zack saw a rise nearby that would allow him to get closer, and he began scrabbling up the slope.
Within moments he was incredibly close—he could have reached into the nearest cell if he’d wanted.
Not that he wanted to touch anything. The shapes inside were large, greenish-brown sacs, pulsing, as if alive.
Natalia joined him. “What do you think they are?”
“Well, it looks as though we’ve been watching life evolve,” Zack said, “only a few billion times faster than we’d expect.”
“Evolve into what?”
“Whatever it’s supposed to be.”
“What could that be? Not more Sentries, I hope. Wait—” Natalia was pointing into a different cell, where the “evolution” of one sac seemed close to completion. “My God, do you know what it looks like?”
“Yes,” Zack said. The sac now looked like a cellophane-wrapped human body.
“I don’t like this!” Natalia announced.
Zack was torn between a similar emotion, and a sense of wonder so powerful it was almost sexual. This was why he’d studied stars and planets . . . why he’d become an astronaut.
To learn the secrets of the universe . . . to see new marvels.
The Russian astronaut backed away, crawling down the slope away from the cells. “Natalia . . .” Zack heard his own voice quaver. Almost every part of his being was ordering him to run! Hide!
Zack looked back at the human-shaped sac . . . two legs, a torso, two arms, a head. It was shorter and smaller than the Sentry. It was Zack’s size.
The hands had a thumb and four fingers.
The shape literally writhed, its hands clawing at the translucent material covering its “face.” Zack had to suppress the impulse to help it....