Fluency

11

Bergen was shoving his legs into the fresh flight suit Ajaya had brought when Walsh and the others stormed in, their hair still dripping from their recent showers.

“What the hell is going on?” Walsh demanded.

“What makes you think I know the answer to that question?” Bergen countered irritably, as he slipped his arms into the armholes and zipped the suit up.

Walsh ignored that. “Where’s Holloway?”

Bergen thumbed toward the small room where they’d had the light treatment. “She’s out again. Ajaya’s dressing her, I think.”

Walsh’s eyes narrowed on Bergen in suspicion. Bergen glared back openly.

Gibbs was oblivious to the subtext. “Did she say anything?”

Bergen shook his head. “Not really. She said something was wrong, that she’d be right back.”

Gibbs looked worried. “How long ago was that?”

“I don’t know. A few minutes? She said that and she was out. The alarm started seconds later.” The alarm in question shut off mid-sentence and his last word rang out in the sudden quiet. They all glanced around nervously as the room’s lighting changed back to its normal setting. All except Compton, Bergen noted. Compton looked unaffected, unconcerned, while the rest of them were clearly in freak-out mode again.

Ajaya emerged from the light treatment room, a grim expression on her face. “She’s in the same state. I haven’t been able to rouse her. I’ve tried everything I can think of—light, sound, even pain. Nothing I’ve tried has any effect.”

Walsh rubbed his chin and lower lip with his hand and shook his head. “This thing—whatever it is—is playing some kind of game. It’s picked out the weakest link and it’s using her to control the rest of us.”

Bergen bristled. “Weakest link? What the hell? She literally just saved our lives, you stupid fuck.”

Walsh sneered in his face. “You think you’re so fucking brilliant, don’t you, Bergen? But you’re so mesmerized by Holloway’s sashay that you can’t see it—she didn’t save us. It engineered that whole scenario just to make her think she saved us—with its help. Get it? That’s what’s going on here. She’s gullible enough to believe it—whereas the rest of us wouldn’t have. That’s why it chose her—not because she has some magical language power. This is a setup.”

Bergen pitched his voice low. “I should’ve let you fall.”

Walsh huffed and moved in closer. “Maybe you should have. You’d have done the little green guy a favor, because I’m the only one who can see what’s happening here.”

They were nose to nose. Bergen waited, his hands clenched at his sides, for Walsh to make a move, to say one more thing about Jane, anything, so he could smash that snide look off his face.

“All right, gentleman? That’s enough.” Ajaya pushed herself between them and Bergen allowed himself to be backed up, his eyes still locked with Walsh’s. Gibbs was similarly moving Walsh out of range.

Ajaya positioned herself between them. “There is no doubt that we’ve found ourselves in an unusual situation. Fighting amongst ourselves will not resolve that. I don’t know what’s happening here. None of us do, for certain. We have options. We should explore them, plan a strategy based on what we know now.”

Walsh grunted, leaning against a section of wall with few outcroppings, arms crossed. “That’s easy. We go back to the capsule and fall back to Mars.”

Gibbs and Varma exchanged shocked glances. Compton remained impassive.

Bergen shook his head, incredulous. “You can’t be serious. We’ve been here for less than 24 hours. We haven’t got what we came for.”

“I disagree. We know what we’re facing. We’ll make our reports and leave the rest to the Bravo mission. They’ll be prepared for this mind-game shit. This was never more than a scouting mission, Bergen,” Walsh said.

Bergen forced himself to stay calm, to make measured arguments. “That’s a helluva lot of time inside capsules for very little payback. We’ll get back to Earth just weeks before they launch Bravo either way. Why rush it? The Mars window will be open for months. We can hunker down here, make some headway into the analysis of their technology. Come on, Compton, say something, here!”

Compton was unmoved. He had a stake in this. He was brought on board as a mechanical engineer. They’d worked together on the shuttle analysis team. He had to be as motivated as Bergen to stay. Was he formulating an argument? Or was he in on this with Walsh? He and Walsh went way back. They’d been on several missions together. Is that what his silence was about?

Gibbs spoke up, “Berg’s got a point, Walsh. Why not give Jane a chance? Maybe this thing is testing us before it hands over the keys to the technology, or something.”

“My objective was laid out clear—preserve human life. Don’t risk everything for what could turn out to be a goddamn wrench.”

Bergen threw his hands in the air. “A wrench? Seriously? They’ve got artificial gravity, Walsh. I think that’s a little bigger than a wrench.” He turned away from Walsh’s condescending expression and banged his forehead lightly on one of the larger protuberances sticking out of the wall.

Ajaya extended a hand toward Walsh, appealing to him. “Commander, we’ve always known that Jane would likely be the only one who could communicate with anyone here. How is this truly different?”

“Oh, I don’t know—maybe because she’s unconscious? Because she’s being manipulated? You all saw how scared she was. Whatever that thing is doing to her—she doesn’t like it—but she’s still going along with it. Doesn’t that concern any of you?” He turned his attention to Bergen. “Do you really care what happens to her? Or is she just another piece of tail to you?”

Gibbs was ready, and pushed Bergen back. Bergen stood there, seething, with Ron’s hands on his shoulders, physically keeping him from exploding.

Ajaya faced Walsh squarely. “Commander, I hardly think baiting Dr. Bergen makes for a convincing argument.”

Walsh dismissed her with a wave of his hand and went on, “Do you seriously think we can trust anything she says or does now? Let the shrinks back home sort it all out. That’s not our job. We were meant to find out what was here. That’s it. We’re done.”

Bergen grit out, “If you’re so sure we can’t trust her, then why did we leave the vicinity of the capsule at all? And why didn’t you report any of this with the last transmission to Houston?”

“That’s simple. I don’t intend on embarrassing Dr. Holloway any more than I have to. I had to humor her to determine if she’d actually made contact, or if she’d just lost it. Now, I can file my report. I don’t know how I can make this any plainer—she’s been compromised.” Walsh took a few steps toward the door. “I’m going back to the capsule. I’m going to release the docking clamps and set a course for Mars. You can board that capsule, and be home in 17 months, or you can stay here and take your chances with Dr. Holloway’s telepathic friend. The choice is yours.”

“Now? Right now?” Bergen stormed through clenched teeth. “What’s the rush?”

Walsh glared at him incredulously. “What do you think that alarm was about, Bergen? It’s probably engineering another scenario for her to save us from, right now. It wants us running scared, dependent on Holloway. We’ve got to move before it can enact its plan. If you don’t think these scenarios are going to escalate each time, you’re crazy. That thing is going to ratchet up the stakes until one of us, maybe all of us, is dead.”

Gibbs and Varma both seemed to be indecisive. Walsh was getting to them. Compton looked like he was falling asleep on his feet. What the hell was up with him? He normally contributed some kind of tidbit that everyone thought was the sage voice of experience.

Bergen said, “That’s speculation. You can’t know that. I can’t believe that the brass in Houston don’t expect us to put more time and effort into this. We’ve barely seen anything—just a bunch of tanks and crates and an infirmary. We need to give this more time.”

“Your input is noted, Dr. Bergen. This is my call. Compton—go get Holloway. We’ll take turns carrying her.”

Compton blinked, but didn’t move.

Walsh sidled up to Compton. “You got something you want to say, Tom?”

“Hm?” Compton roused himself and inhaled sharply. “You say something, Commander?”

Walsh took a step back like he’d been slapped, his eyes roving over Compton’s face.

Ajaya moved in. “Thomas? Are you feeling well?”

Compton smiled, a slow, sloppy grin. “Sure. Whadaya need?”

She took a pen light out of her pocket and flashed it in Compton’s eyes. “What were you thinking about, just now?”

His eyebrows crept up and his features contorted into a leer. “You sound like a girl I once knew.”

Ajaya didn’t hide her dismay.

Gibbs put his hand on Compton’s shoulder. “Is the alien talking to you inside your head, Pops? Like it is with Jane?”

Compton made a face like that was absurd. “What? No.”

Walsh motioned them away from Compton, who didn’t notice or mind. “Do you see? It’s already starting. We’ve got to get out of here before all hell breaks loose.”

Gibbs and Varma nodded.

Bergen was so unnerved by Compton’s unsettling behavior, he kept silent.

Walsh went out to check that the hallway was clear. Gibbs went for Jane while Varma coaxed Compton toward the door.

Bergen stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists. They didn’t have the big picture, yet, he felt sure of that, but Walsh was right about one thing—it seemed pretty clear—all hell was about to break loose.