Gaia 3

V. Journey

Jaleah and the crew boarded the ship to the sound of rambunctious applause. Daviron's speech was truly inspirational. It had given the crowd - and the crew - the sense that this expedition was destined for greatness. In their minds, there was no room for failure. In fact, failure was no longer even a possibility. The only path left was that of success. And so succeed they would. 

The feeling of destiny faded a little when Jaleah saw the room she would be sharing with Kyndle. It was, in one word, tiny. Jaleah had known the quarters would be tight, as such a long journey required that most of the ship be used for supplies, but she had assumed that she would at least be able to spread her arms out without touching both walls. 

"Well, looks like we're going to get to know each other pretty well, huh?" Kyndle said, coming up from behind Jaleah and surprising her, "Do you want the top bunk or the bottom bunk?" 

"I guess I'll take the bottom bunk," Jaleah shrugged, trying to recoup her senses, "Although I have to say...I was expecting something bigger. Something where I could actually stretch my limbs out." 

"Yeah...but I guess Daviron's using every room on this ship to store supplies. After all, you don't want to be stuck on a foreign planet without food, water, or fuel. We're not the Lucioni expedition." 

Jaleah laughed. 
"That we aren't," she smiled, throwing her bag on the bottom bunk. 

"Well, I'm going to check out the medical supplies Daviron brought," Kyndle said, "But I heard that all the academic types are hanging out in the mess hall. At the very least, you should be able to stretch. Maybe get some yoga in." 

"Yoga?" 

"Yoga's good for you. Don't discount its benefits." 

"And academic types?" Jaleah asked with a slight smile, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know, you university types," Kyndle replied with a faint trace of a mischievous smile. 

Jaleah laughed. 
"I guess if you do think of it, we are a distinct species." 

"Exactly," Kyndle laughed, "Anyway, I'm going to go. See you later." 

Kyndle left. 

Jaleah sighed. Despite preparing for the last month and a half, now that she was actually here, she couldn't believe this was actually her life now. She was overwhelmed by a flood of emotions; mostly she felt an awed excitement, but there was a touch of sadness and fear. She was saddened to leave behind her life; despite her hatred for grading, she would miss her students and colleagues at the university. And more than that, she would miss her parents. She was used to speaking to them daily and visiting every other weekend. Now, she would have to wait two weeks to hear their voices, and they wouldn't be able to communicate in real-time. 

She also felt fear. Not of death; the last of those anxieties had been washed away by Daviron's speech before their departure. Rather, she feared that Gaia 3 would disappoint her. What if Gaia 3 wasn't the planet she had dreamed of visiting? Having grown up in the hometown of Julius Lucioni, the legend of his expedition to Gaia 3 had inspired countless childhood fantasies. She had spent hours playing in her front yard, pretending to be the sole surviving crew member of the Lucioni expedition, or fighting off monsters on the surface of Gaia 3.She feared that by actually setting foot on the planet, those fantasies, and the comfortable memories associated with them, would be shattered. 

Jaleah sighed and gathered her notebooks and charts, then left the room to go work in the mess hall. 

--<<>>--

Jaleah walked into the mess hall to see Carsin pouring over an old document. 

"Is that it?" she asked. 

Carsin jumped. 
"Sorry, you scared me," he said, taking a deep breath. 

"Sorry," Jaleah shrugged, "I just wanted to know. Is that the journal I've been hearing so much about?" 

"Yeah. I've been trying to translate it. With any luck, I'll have it entirely translated by the time we reach Gaia 3, but..."

"But?" 

"Well, not only is this language five hundred years old, but it was also an uncommon dialect at the time. Not to mention, the jerk who wrote this had a shorthand that's very difficult to crack even if you do know the language." 

"The 'jerk' has been dead for five hundred years," Jaleah laughed, "I don't think he can hear you." 

"But it makes me feel better," Carsin noted, looking back down at the journal, "I mean, take this for an example. The guy just drew a triangle. What the hell is that supposed to mean?" 

"Maybe he saw a triangle somewhere on the planet?" Jaleah guessed, dropping her notebooks across from Carsin. 

Carsin stared at her with a half-crazed look in his eyes.
"Honestly, at this point, that's as good a guess as any." 

"How long have you been staring at that journal?" Jaleah asked, a little concerned. 

"I've been trying to translate it for like a month," Carsin replied, "It's been a little consuming. And Dr. Noir hasn't studied this particular dialect, so she can't help me as much." 

"I think it might be time for you to take a break," Jaleah suggested, "I've seen this in my grad students. They focus so much on something for an extended period of time that they start going crazy. What you need to do is take the day off and get back to this tomorrow. And who knows. With a little rest, you might gain new insight on what that triangle means." 

Carsin sighed.
"You're probably right. But still, I really should-" 

"Do not make me drag you to your room," Jaleah threatened. 

Carsin's eyes widened, and he scampered out of the room. 

--<<>>--

Less than an hour later, Carsin came rushing back in. 

"What are you doing back?" Jaleah asked as Carsin flipped frantically through the pages of the journal, "I thought I told you to rest!" 

"I did, and you were right," Carsin replied, "I got an insight." 

"You did? What?" 

"The triangle I told you about? I just remembered that it used to have some significance in a few ancient dialects," he explained, "If I could just find it in my notes...aha! Here it is." 

Jaleah joined him and peered over his shoulder at his notes. 

"According to my notes, certain dialects used triangles in their written languages as a shorthand to denote dangers," Carsin said. He and Jaleah glanced at each other, fear in their eyes. 

"When is that particular entry dated?" Jaleah asked nervously. 

Carsin glanced at the date in the journal, and his face paled. 
"It's dated from after they supposedly landed on the planet," he whispered hoarsely. 

"So then what's the danger they're warning us about?" 

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