The next day we secured Little Enterprise to the alien ship's hull, after extensive and contentious discussion with the pilots, Jean-Luc, and the bishop----we argued that extra stability for the shuttle was necessary since we might be there for weeks---but only after working out a way for the pilots to perform a quick-release and takeoff. Lindsay Graham set up a system of boosters and relays throughout that part of the alien ship already explored, so video and sound would be transmitted from the suit helmets to the shuttle with minimal loss of signal quality. We could have something monitoring the exploration teams at all time.
As a precaution, we continued to use two remotes, although they slowed our progress considerably and were too crude to be much real help. We sent them first into each new passage or cabin, but aside from acting as a decoy that could spring any traps awaiting us, and providing preliminary images, they were practically useless. In addition, each of us had a hand phaser secured to our pressure suits, although none of us expected to use them.
I'd like to say that the following days were filled with awe and excitement, with marvels and wonders, astonishing discoveries. If they were, the marvels went unrecognized.
Mysteries we did find, and they were many. But I learned that something can be too mysterious, too alien---so mysterious and alien as to approach being meaningless:
---Two connected rooms crisscrossed by metal rods; we had to laboriously climb through them each time we went in or out of the ship until we found a curving passage that bypassed them. We couldn't even guess at the purpose or function of the rooms or the rods.572Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEyvv04siCh
---More bare and empty cabins with walls so featureless, the rooms appeared to be incomplete.
---Mazes of interlocking tunnels that doubled back on themselves and led nowhere.
---A series of dead ends---high, narrow corridors ten to twenty meters in length that simply ended at solid, featureless walls.
---And finally, a large spherical room we dubbed the Greenhouse. Ninety meters across, the inner walls consisted of hundreds of hexagonal facets of clear and material like steelglass; with the hand torches and lanterns we could see through the facets to another layer about a meter behind the glass, this one consisting of smooth unmarked metal. There was only one entrance to the room. Did we really think it served as a greenhouse? Well, where else would plants be mounted? As with everything else we'd seen, we had no idea what the Greenhouse's function was.
But there was one major plus during those early days: there were no deaths, and there were no injuries. We made steady, though slow, progress farther and farther into the alien starship, and there was a growing sense of accomplishment, and a belief that better things were to come.
Two and a half weeks after we'd arrived, the team of Garcia, Riker and Faulken explored a room with blistered walls---metal covered with crusted, discolored, irregularly shaped bubbles. They spent some time studying and probing the blistered metal, speculating on whether the discoloration and blistering were intentional, or were symptoms of neglect and abandonment. Then the team drifted toward a wall adjacent to the one through which they'd entered, and approached a second door.572Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡskoNUBJvJT
Instead of sending in one of the remotes, Riker got careless. Maybe because they were at the end of their shift and tired, the door seemed to be in the "ceiling" of the room, and it had been weeks since we'd encountered any portion of the alien ship that had gravity---nothing since the room where Helsing had died. The door was quite large, wide and tall enough to accommodate three or four people at once; when Riker turned a handle on the wall beside it---a rectangular bar that moved easily with the slightest pressure---the door slid smoothly open, vanishing into the thick wall.
Riker swung himself "up" toward the opening, holding out one of the lanterns. As the lantern and his hand moved through the doorway, followed by one of his legs, the gravity kicked in. He didn't have a good grip on the lantern and it was pulled out of his hand; it shot off like a jet beacon. Riker, too, was pulled into the next room, but he had one hand and arm outside, his hand still gripped around the bar, and one leg hooked on the doorway. He let out a cry, but managed to hang on, half in the next room, half out.
"Help me!" His helmeted head was still in the blister-walled room, but his grip seemed to be weakening.
It's uncertain what happened next. Riker was never unsure, and neither were most of the rest of us, but the seeds of doubt are still there even now.
Amber Faulken pushed off the wall and floated across the room toward him, moving quickly. Riker wasn't looking at her, and his helmet camera was directed down at the door bar; Faulken's own video was too jerky, shifting around, missing much of the action of her hands and arms; and Garcia's view was blocked by Faulken's body. Faulken crashed into Riker, and he lost his grip. Faulken claimed that in her panic to save Riker, she misjudged her speed and direction and accidentally struck him, then scrambled to catch herself. Riker said she intentionally crashed into him, then deliberately pried his gloved fingers from the door bar.
With his primary hold gone, Riker began to slide farther into the next room, his fingers scratching frantically for something to hang onto. Then Faulken's leg kicked out---accidental, she swore; deliberate again, Riker accused---knocking Riker's leg through the doorway. Riker's slide accelerated.
But as he went through the opening, he managed to get both hands onto the door frame, with just enough grip to stop his fall.
He hung there, and I remember watching on the shuttle monitor----by that time Constance, who had been posted on the monitor, had alerted us to what was happening---and feeling that time was stretching out interminably; an aching fear drove through me, fear that he couldn't hold on. But it was probably no more than twenty or thirty seconds before Garcia was at the doorway, anchoring herself to the door bar with the security cable attached to her suit, and reaching out to Riker.
By that time Faulken was settled, and began to help. Faulken, of course, later argued that Faulken no longer had a choice; her opportunity was gone, and she had to help in order to cover herself. Whatever the reason, Faulken worked with Garcia to pull Riker up through the doorway and out of the other room.
As soon as she was free of the other room's gravity, Riker lunged at Faulken. They struggled, though the suits made fighting awkward and difficult. Garcia tried to separate them, but her own actions were clumsy, and everyone was losing control. Garcia kept her head, though, quickly unhooked her security cable from the door bar, then turned the bar back to its original position. The door slid out from the wall and sealed shut just moments before Riker and Faulken both struck it; if it hadn't shut, they both would have gone through the doorway and plunged to their deaths. As we were later to learn, the room was like the one Helsing had died in: the gravity was twice Earth normal, and the fall would have been more than thirty meters.
By the time they got back to the shuttle, Riker was still furious, and Faulken continued to vigorously deny any harmful intent. Both were confined to their compartments while the rest of us talked to Garcia and reviewed the recordings. Garcia couldn't make a judgement. Much of her view had been blocked; everything had happened so quickly, and she'd been focused on Riker, not on Faulken.572Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfISDL0N9Jq
"I can't be sure," she said. "I really can't." There was a long hesitation. "But I will admit that my impression at the time, and I want to emphasize that it wasn't a strong impression by any means, was that----was that Faulken tried to push him through the opening."
Nobody said anything for a long time. Finally, Maddie Urbas said, "But why?"
I don't think the lack of an answer changed anyone's mind about what had happened. We watched the recordings again, all three frames of reference. Still inconclusive. But like Garcia, I, too, had the impression that Amber Faulken had tried to push Riker into the next room, to his likely death. I knew others felt the same way, and Garcia's words had charged the air. More silence, nobody knowing quite what to say, where to start. But I knew what needed to be done.
"They both have to go back to the Enterprise," I finally said.
There was no argument.572Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuPxavBiiih
