Traveler in the Dark

26

Alice hovered over Stratton. Leroux hadn't slept in three cycles and Alice had sent her to bed after she completed the final surgery on the captain.

"He's not going to wake up for some time, and I'm perfectly qualified to sit and stare at medical screens," Alice had said. "I'll wake you if he changes."

"Yes," Al Jahi had said, "I think you should sleep, Joan."

Leroux had frowned. "Is that an order?" she'd asked.

Al Jahi sighed. "I don't like this any more than you. Don't make me issue an order. You need to sleep so you don't make mistakes. Captain Stratton is going to need you when he wakes up. Give Oxwell the burst codes and go to bed."

Leroux scrubbed her face. "Yes, you're right," she admitted. She turned to Alice. "I'll pass you the codes, but no bursts without my say so. The wrong one could do grave harm. He's on serious sedatives, if he wakes up or is in pain, wake me before you give him anything."

"Of course," Alice had said. And at the time, she had meant it. Alice shoved a hand into her pocket as Leroux wandered away. Her fingers found the dose of Rem she'd meant to give Leroux. She'd forgotten and swore mildly under her breath. It'd have to wait until Leroux woke up. Alice had no access to the Wolfinger's med cabinet to put it back.

She sat a few hours, scrolling through the data that she had picked up from the lab, occasionally replaying the long conversation with Issk'ath. She supposed in all, the planet had recovered from the swarm, and that was a dim comfort. Maybe Earth had recovered too. But what had the swarm cost this place? What of the extinctions that no doubt occurred? And now, the people of the Keseburg had arrived to devastate even more— willing or no.

Spike had died. Sometime in the night, if the readings were correct. Spixworth had been upset, frantic that they'd missed some safety precaution or somehow contaminated the water it had been given. But Alice had found no Keseburg microbes in the samples. If it had been ill, as Issk'ath said, it must have contracted the disease before they had captured it. Martham seemed undisturbed, saying only that she had warned Spixworth not to name it. And that analyzing its death would help them understand the lifeforms here, so they could survive when they colonized. As if it were a decided thing. As if they were all operating under the assumption that they'd found it. The one. And it had waited here for thousands of years for them to arrive, existing only to fulfill the needs of the Keseburg. As if it had not had its own life, its own saga before them. The more Alice thought of it, the more she became convinced that they hadn't changed since Earth. Issk'ath had been right. In a few hundred years, they'd overrun this planet too, and the process would begin all over again. Even Rebecca— she thought they didn't belong here, but not because of the life that was already here. She feared the effect it would have on their shipmates.

They had to be persuaded. All of them. Before they returned to the Keseburg. If word got back about this place, it was as good as doomed. Alice had to show them, had to convince them to keep silent, to let the Keseburg return to its endless journey. Alice wished there were someone, anyone to speak with. She wanted to be wrong. She wanted someone to prove that they could change, that they had changed. But there would always be people that wanted more.

And even if they'd each learned the lessons of Earth, the ones pounded into them from their birth in the rattling, dented jumble of a ship, even if they kept the planet well, how would it keep them? Alice had found dozens of microbes in a few days. How many were problematic? How many of the dozens of plant samples Blick had taken were poisonous? Or would crowd out any crops they attempted? To say nothing of the fauna. Issk'ath's people may have killed off their only predator, but it didn't mean there was nothing dangerous to humans. Even with its help, it would take years to develop strategies to defend themselves. They couldn't stay. And Alice seemed the only one who acknowledged it.