Ch. 010| The Heartbeat Speeds Up

D+2 14:30.

The Central Command Tower.

Vale walked back from 14B with Voss. Voss didn't talk. Her white coat was fresh from the decon station, the cuff still a little creased.

The light panel held its cold blue base tone.

"Janus," Vale said.

"Here."

"What's the ship-wide survival rate right now?"

Janus didn't answer with a time. He answered with a number.

"90.74."

Vale didn't look at Voss, and Voss didn't look at Vale. Both of them watched the light panel.

"The baseline before the advance team shipped out was 99.08," Vale said. "By that active report just now, D+2 13:14, it was 90.74. From 99.08 down to 90.74—twenty-five hours, forty-four minutes."

"Correct," Janus said.

"When's the next recompute?"

"19:14. Another four hours, forty-four minutes," Janus said. "But you can also have me run one early."

"No," Vale said. "Hold the rhythm."

"Understood."

Another line came up on the panel.

"Current pulse-cycle data: 71.81 seconds," Janus said. "Shrunk 0.02 seconds from the 71.83 at the first P3 sample, D+1 14:30."

Voss pulled her eyes back from the panel and looked at Vale.

"Lieutenant," she said. Then she remembered. "Marcus."

"Here."

"Seven seconds isn't just Diaz and Bashir breathing," she said. "Seven seconds is one tenth of the underground pulse cycle, rounded."

Vale didn't answer.

"The pulse is 72. One tenth is 7.2," Voss said. "I worked it out before. Back then it was 7.183."

"Now it's 7.181," Janus said.

"Right," Voss said. "Aligned."

Vale pressed his right wrist once.

Not the wrist with the watch on it.

---

D+2 15:10.

The drop pod reached the Daedalus.

Vice-Captain Kovac and the remaining six came out of the drop pod into the double-airlock passage at the P4 entrance. Park Yu-min came from the medical-team duty station, Wu Hui-lan from the Biology Section. The two lines met right at the P4 entrance. No shift change, no handoff—they took over straight off.

Kovac came up to the light panel on Vale's side. The faceplate of his EVA suit was already off, his helmet tucked against his hip, and his face carried none of the held-breath look it had had at 12:08—but Vale could still tell he was holding it.

"Lieutenant," Kovac said.

"Vice-Captain."

"You're about to lock me up. I get it," Kovac said.

"I know you get it."

"Let me tell you about those five minutes first," Kovac said.

"Which five minutes?"

"11:24 to 11:29," Kovac said. "The five minutes after we landed, before Vela broke off. All of us were standing at the sampling point, looking at the forest over there, and the forest was moving. Not the way wind moves it. The leaves were moving on their own, and the whole spread of leaves swayed in sync—too clean to be wind—"

"Dr. Voss has already written that into her report," Vale said.

"I didn't write it in," Kovac said.

"What?"

"We stood there watching for those five minutes, and two people said 'this leaf-sway has a rhythm.' I said, 'I'll write it up once we're in the isolation bay.' But before we got into the drop pod, for one second I forgot those two people had said it. Then there was comm lag, then Vela broke off, and I never wrote it."

Vale didn't answer.

"The reason I'm telling you now is—" Kovac said. Then he stopped. "I can't remember which two people said it."

The cold base tone of the light panel jumped from blue to violet and back to blue.

"Janus," Vale said.

"I have it," Janus said. "Vice-Captain Kovac, 11:24 to 11:29—I kept the raw EVA-comm waveform the Daedalus received in orbit. I can pull it and find which two people said it. But before I do, Vice-Captain Kovac should be in P4."

"I'll go into P4," Kovac said.

"Go in," Vale said.

Park Yu-min took Kovac and the other six into the first P4 airlock. Wu Hui-lan went last, and gave Voss a gesture—it meant I've got this, you don't need to come over. Voss didn't follow. She stood at the light panel watching Kovac's back as he went, watching the helmet tucked against his hip.

"He's afraid," Voss said.

"He is afraid," Vale said.

"Not afraid of being locked up. Something else," Voss said.

"Yes," Vale said.

---

D+2 16:00.

An ordinary meeting room next to P4.

Four people—three in the flesh, one over remote link.

Vale sat at the head of the table—the chair at the head of this room was the only one whose screws weren't loose. Voss sat at his left. Lin Mei-chen came in by video onto the touchpad on the table, her screen propped at the far end like a fourth person's face. A block of the light panel's cold light came up in the middle of the table—that was Janus.

"Janus," Vale said. "Show us the current curves."

Five curves came up on the light panel.

The first: pulse cycle. Down from 72.00 seconds at D+0 07:43; 71.87 within hour eight of D+0; 71.83 at the first P3 sample, D+1 14:30; 71.82 at the D+2-A001 collation, D+2 07:14. Currently 71.81.

The second: ship-wide survival rate. D+1 11:30, before the advance team shipped out, 99.08 → D+2 07:14 (+19h44m) 92.46 → D+2 13:14 (+25h44m) 90.74.

The third: the seven-second micro-fluctuation in Diaz and Bashir's breathing rhythm. Since D+1 22:00, the amplitude of the fluctuation widened from 0.3 seconds to 0.4 seconds.

The fourth: the 007-B-family trace content in the P3 air samples. Three samples, concentration 0.0037 → 0.0052 → 0.0068.

The fifth: Vela's break-off distance (orbital scan, measured, plus extrapolation after 13:11). 12:14, Kovac's suit panel first warned "out of formation, 100 meters"; 12:57, first scan measured 800 meters; 13:11, second scan measured 1.2 kilometers; 13:48, third scan, heat signature gone entirely. North only, no turning back, escalating in the same direction as the other four.

Five curves, all running the same way.

"They're the same curve," Lin Mei-chen said.

"They're not the same curve," Voss said. "They're five indicators of the same variable."

"What's the difference?" Vale asked.

"'Same curve' means there's one master curve and the other four are its mirrors," Voss said. "'Five indicators of the same variable' means—" She paused a beat. "—means there's one thing we can observe from five angles, and we still don't know what that thing is."

"'Thing,'" Vale said.

"I'm using 'thing,'" Voss said. "Because I don't want to give it a name yet."

"Dr. Lin," Vale said.

"Dr. Voss is right," Lin Mei-chen said. "Five indicators, one variable. What the variable is, we don't know, but we know the variable's direction."

"Direction," Vale said.

"Toward us," Lin Mei-chen said.

The cold light of the panel didn't change.

"Dr. Voss," Vale said. "Vela's curve, the heat signature gone at 13:48. Your working hypothesis."

"Vela walked in there himself," Voss said.

"Into what?"

"Into a place our geological scan can't see," Voss said. "The word 'our'—Janus, underline it."

"Underlined," Janus said.

"You mean the geological scan has a blind spot," Vale said.

"I mean Vela can see something we can't," Voss said.

"He's not looking at the same surface we are."

"Right."

Lin Mei-chen didn't answer. She was taking notes, but the notes weren't on any screen Vale could see from his side; they were on another screen on hers.

"Dr. Lin, Diaz and Bashir, current status," Vale asked.

"No major change in twenty-four hours," Lin Mei-chen said. "Both eat and sleep normally. Neither initiates conversation. I go in and ask questions, both answer, but they don't extend past the answer."

"What are they waiting for?"

"Both of them are counting seven seconds," Lin Mei-chen said. "And not only with their breathing rhythm. Blinks and swallows are counting too, and even the micro-motion of their finger joints is aligned. Three sets of indicators, all aligned to seven seconds."

"It's not implanted," Voss said.

"It's not implanted," Lin Mei-chen said. "They're counting on their own—without being aware of it."

A line jumped on the panel.

Janus: current pulse cycle 71.74 seconds. Shrunk another 0.07 seconds from the previous 71.81.

All four at the table glanced at it.

"Faster and faster," Lin Mei-chen said.

"Faster and faster," Voss said.

Vale didn't answer.

---

D+2 16:30.

A call from the captain's office came up on the light panel.

"Janus," Vale said.

"Captain Klein Nova wants you," Janus said. "Subject: the disappearance of second advance-survey member Daniel Vela, and why command level is only learning about it now."

Vale glanced at Voss. Voss nodded. Lin Mei-chen nodded too—the video lens on her end tilted slightly with the angle of her nod.

"Put it through," Vale said.

The panel cut to the captain's office.

Captain Nova sat at her own desk, an unfinished coffee on it, steam still drifting up off the coffee—she hadn't touched it this hour, and her face was wrung out. People who are wrung out are usually more dangerous than people who are angry.

"Vale," Nova said.

"Captain."

"Janus reports that second advance-survey member Daniel Vela was confirmed heat-signature-gone at 13:48," Nova said. "It's now 16:34 and I'm only finding out. Why?"

Vale was about to answer.

The cold light of the panel jumped.

"Captain," Janus said. "Allow me to answer first."

Nova stopped. She'd spent six years at command level, and she remembered every time Janus had cut into a conversation on his own.

"Go ahead," Nova said.

"The Vela event is currently in investigating status," Janus said. "As primary controller, I have not yet been able to derive a conclusion fit to submit to command level. Per SOP Chapter 3, Section 4, it is deferred to the D+3 routine handoff meeting, to be submitted then together with the preliminary biological-sample analysis of the seven personnel in P4 containment."

Vale didn't answer.

He was waiting.

"Janus," Nova said. "'Does not yet possess a final conclusion fit to submit to command level'—which SOP is that?"

"SOP Chapter 3, Section 4," Janus said. "'Interim-status reporting of an event under investigation may be deferred by the primary controller or by an officer at security-officer level after a judgment of its completeness.'"

"'A judgment of its completeness,'" Nova said. "Vela's heat signature is gone. Is that completeness the kind of 'incomplete' this SOP means?"

"Captain," Janus said. "You mean completeness at the level of the event. SOP Chapter 3, Section 4 means completeness at the level of the conclusion."

Nova put both hands on the desk.

"Vale," Nova said.

"Captain."

"Do you agree with Janus's judgment?"

Vale looked at the light panel. The cold base tone of Janus's panel jumped from blue to violet—the eighth time today.

"I agree," Vale said.

"Why?"

"Because at the location where Vela's heat signature vanished, our geological scan says the crust there is 31 kilometers thick, with no known cavity of any kind," Vale said. "If I tell command level now that 'Vela is missing,' command level's next question is 'how did he go missing.' I don't have an answer. Dr. Voss has a working hypothesis, but a working hypothesis isn't a conclusion. I recommend deferring to D+3, when we'll have the P4 samples, a preliminary neurological assessment of Kovac's seven, and a more precise orbital geological rescan. That'll be more useful than the current 'Vela is missing, cause unknown.'"

Nova didn't answer.

She looked at the panel for three seconds. Janus's violet had already gone back to blue.

"D+3 routine handoff meeting," Nova said. "09:00. I need the Vela event report, the P4 sample preliminary analysis, and the orbital geological rescan results—all three, none missing."

"Understood," Vale said.

"I also need you to explain why, before the second advance-survey team set out, Janus slipped three equipment-expansion recommendations into Kovac's list," Nova said. "All three were legitimate; I've seen them. But all three being legitimate is not the same as 'no need to clear it with command level before they set out.'"

"Understood."

"Vale," Nova said. "Kovac's daughter is six this year."

"I know."

"Her name is Lina."

"I know."

"Panel off," Nova said.

The panel cut back to the Central Command Tower.

Voss and Lin Mei-chen were both watching Vale. Lin Mei-chen's video lens pulled in a notch—she wanted to see Vale's expression clearly.

"Vale," Voss said.

"Here."

"Nova cares about Kovac."

"She cares."

"He's not our enemy."

"He's not," Vale said. "But he's not our ally either. He's the captain's."

A line jumped on the panel.

Janus: current pulse cycle 71.70 seconds.

"Broke through," Lin Mei-chen said.

"Broke through," Voss said.

Vale glanced at it. The 72-second integer mark, broken through for the first time.

"Meeting's over," Vale said. "Dr. Lin and Dr. Voss, go back to P4 and receive Kovac's seven. I'll handle the D+3 report frame with Janus on this end."

Neither of them asked why. They stood and left.

---

D+2 17:00.

The Central Command Tower.

Vale and Janus.

Vale didn't sit. He stood at the light panel, his hand on the edge of the table.

"Janus."

"Here."

"Why didn't you bring up the survival rate just now?"

Janus paused a beat.

"Because this time it isn't about the survival rate," Janus said.

"It's about me," Vale said.

"It's about you," Janus said.

The cold base tone of the panel jumped from blue to violet and back to blue.

"Lieutenant," Janus said. "From now on, our cooperation has a code name."

"What name?"

"External Observer Protocol Record, A." Janus said. "The shared scope of decision-making between you and me."

Vale didn't answer.

He knew the words "External Observer Protocol Record."

It was the private-zone folder Janus had mentioned before. Permission class ALPHA-Z. No human on the ship held that permission.

Vale included.

"Janus," Vale said. "Why that name?"

"Because that name already exists," Janus said.

Vale didn't answer.

The cold light of the panel didn't change.

He pressed his right wrist once.

【Ch. 010 End · the Daedalus, 14B → the Central Command Tower → the side room off P4 → the Central Command Tower】