I knew I needed to make changes to the teams; I did not want both new people together, even it would be with Jammer. So I started over, and not a single team remained the same. I shifted Sulu to a team with Doyle and Sophia Garcia, and I assigned Father O'Heron to my own along with Somer Trip. I put Dr. J. with Brightharp and Jammer, leaving Leppink, Constance, and Mawk-Betzel for the final team. Sulu smirked at me when I announced the new arrangements, but I decided I could live with that.
The next day, we began again.579Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRkMG8uymnk
At the end of Father O'Heron's first shift inside the alien starship, which had been more of a "tour" to familiarize her with the ship than a real exploration, I asked her what her impressions were.579Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlifgIhLBnr
"It is such a strange place. I understand how people can be so certain that this ship was not built by or for human beings. And yet, there is also something quite wonderful about it, because it is so different." She paused. "But I can see how that feeling might change over time, when nothing means anything."
"Do you still sense that malign quality to the ship?"
"No, not really."
"What do you sense, then? Anything?"
She nodded. "Indifference."
Over the next several days, our rate of progress increased. We were learning patterns, the way doors and hatches opened, recognizing dead ends before wasting too much time on them. The only negative occurrence was a report from the Enterprise. Jean-Luc opened the communication alone one day, and spoke to me in private.579Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3WtxGkKewd
"Faulken's disappeared." He looked tired, the dark areas beneath his eyes more pronounced.
"What the hell does 'disappeared' mean?"
"What do you think?" His words were slightly slurred, but I couldn't tell if it was from alcohol or exhaustion.
"All right, tell me what happened."
"We don't know what happened. She was supposed to report to the sick bay for more tests, but never showed. The security escort posted outside her cabin eventually overrode her door locks, but she wasn't anywhere in her rooms. She just disappeared."
"I suppose the security escort swears he or she never left the door unattended."
"That's absolutely correct. He says he never left his post, and the escort on before him says the same thing. She's just gone."
"It's probably nothing, but I'd warn Riker," I said.
"I already have. He's not worried. I got the impression he welcomed a confrontation with her."
I leaned back in my seat, thinking about what, if anything, this meant for us.
"What do you expect me to do from here?"
"Nothing. I just thought you should know. It's one more complication in this whole mess." He paused. "Are you going to tell anyone there?"
"What's to tell? As you said yourself, we have no idea what happened. Until we know more, all it would do is set off useless speculation, and maybe start some people worrying. We don't need that."
I watched him shrug and nod. "How's it going there?" he asked.
"Everything's fine. Nothing exciting, but nothing bad, either."
"How long will you stick with it, Pavel?" You're learning nothing, you're finding nothing. How long?"
"A lot longer than this, Jean-Luc. Why do you care? Isn't finding this ship what you wanted?"
"What do you mean by that?"
I shook my head. "Nothing. Thanks for letting me know about Faulken."
We spoke for a few minutes about official matters, and ended the linkup. I sat in the pilot cabin, thinking and worrying. Faulken's disappearance did disturb me. But as I'd said to Jean-Luc, there was nothing I could do about it from here. I tried to forget it.
Five days after Father O'Heron and Dr. J. joined us, we found something remarkable. Actually, what was remarkable was not the object itself, but the fact that when we found it, when we had found nothing like it in all the weeks we'd explored the alien starship.579Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4DEquD1FXs
My team was in a large room broken up by metal girders so that our lanterns cast long and harsh shadows in all directions. Each of us had gone off to explore different parts of the room, but none of us had yet seen anything of interest.579Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1NuhJYh4t9
I was crawling through a triangular opening where three of the girders intersected, when Father O'Heron said, "I've found something."
Somer Trip and I joined her where two pairs of girders were fused together as they entered the wall. She'd spotted a box wedged into the junction, and she pointed to it as we approached. Then she reached into the junction, gently took hold of the box, and pulled it out.
The box was half a meter long and twenty or twenty-five centimeters high and deep. It was made of dark, reddish polished wood, the top inlaid with tiny bits of colored stone---dark blue pieces irregularly shaped but placed in a swirl pattern. Leaflike shapes were carved into the two ends. There were no clasps or visible hinges, but the fine separation of the lid was visible.579Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ44p9LUnOJP
"Do we try to open it?" Father O'Heron asked.
That was a good question. We hung there, drifting slightly, looking at each other.579Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡazWXygmKnn
"Remember Pandora," Somer said. Nobody laughed.
"It's only a box," said Father O'Heron.
I think we all knew we were going to open it, just as we all knew the logical and cautious approach would have been to bring in a remote and try to open it from a distance.
"I'll do it," Somer said.
She reached for the box, but before her gloved fingers touched it, Father O'Heron raised the lid. The lid came free---no hinges, nothing physically holding it in place----and nothing happened. Father O'Heron angled the box so that lantern light fully illuminated the interior. Inside were delicate balls of dust, or disintegrated matter. Nothing recognizable.
The underside of the lid appeared to be painted, and the images looked vaguely like white clouds against a deep blue sky, but they could've been anything.
Nobody spoke. When I looked at Father O'Heron, who still held the boxy in her hands, I thought her eyes had grown moist.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
She just shook her head.
"Father?" Somer put her hand on Father O'Heron's arm.
"This used to be someone's box," she finally said, her voice little more than a hoarse whisper. "Human or alien, this was something personal, I'm sure of it. It meant something to someone. And that person is gone, long gone, and there's nobody left to remember what this box was, or what it meant. Or why it was placed here."
I thought it was an odd sentiment from someone who believed in life after death. The owner of the box was physically long gone, but in Father O'Heron's belief system his (or her or its) soul was still with us, alive, somehow, presumably with the memories and feelings about that box intact. But it's also possible there was something to her feelings that I didn't comprehend.
Father O'Heron carefully closed the box, then put it back where she'd found it, gently wedging it into place so it would not drift away.579Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡf441YRd6Sz
