“I’m finally going down to see what the Danannians created,” I said.
“Good. I’ll look forward to seeing your paintings.”
“You’re not going down?”
“What point would there be to it?” she replied. “At my age, twenty percent more gravity would be less than pleasant. It could be worse than that. My work is up here. The Magellan is stable in orbit. I’ve got a remote system tethered off the hull, and I’m getting incredible images.”
To go so far beyond the Galaxy and not take at least a look at the Danannian city? “You’re certain you don’t want to see it?”
“Later, I might. You need to see it. I’d like to see it, but it’s not necessary. I’m getting to make observations I never thought would be possible. They’re critical, I fear.”
Fear? What was she observing? I decided not to ask. She wouldn’t say, anyway. “I almost feel guilty about going down there. You’re a scientist. I’m an artist.”
“You feel guilty about too much, Chendor. Go. The rest of the Galaxy needs to see your images. They need those more than we need the science. They may need them even more.” She still didn’t look up, regally engrossed in the pattern of the stars changing on the wall screen before her. “Go.”
I went, and I pondered Elysen’s words as I took the lift up to deck forty-eight. I’d have to walk up the ramp to the boat deck. The only equipment I carried was a small bag with skintights for three days, toiletries, and a portable imager with every function I could afford. It was the kind that would work in a vacuum. There was no way I could paint directly, not with no atmosphere and such a low temperature. I’d just have to look and study what was there, as intently as I could, and use the images I captured as a way of recalling more than what the images showed.
I was glad I’d left early because it took me an extra fifteen minutes to find the equipment room where those of us traveling down to Danann were supposed to get helped into the space armor we would be wearing. When I was finally in the armor, I walked down the passageway to the ready room, carrying both my helmet and equipment bag.
I knew the other four expedition team members waiting there, if only by face and name. Melani Kalahouri, the alien psychologist, was listening to Reynol Torres.
“… no sign of any remains, but I insisted that I could determine something of the nature of the Danannians from the interiors and exteriors of the structures…”
Maejean Polius stood alone, muscular and dark-skinned, more so in space armor. She looked toward the closed lock. I’d only spoken to her briefly. She was the expedition geologist.
Another woman entered the ready room—Kaitlin Henjsen. She wore armor that had more than a few scrapes and scratches. I couldn’t help saying, “You must be on your second or third descent.”
“Just my second. Dr. Chais sent me back up here for two days standard grav—and some sleep. Doctors can be tyrants.”
“Only for people who drive themselves beyond their bodies.” The words came out matter-of-fact, but I wished I hadn’t said them.
She gave a small start, and a glare that quickly became a wry smile. “You sound like a doctor, not an artist.”
“I’m sorry. I have this habit…” I didn’t finish what I might have said.
She nodded, then looked away as a chief tech appeared beside the lock to the bay.
“You’ll be boarding in just a moment. You’ll each take a couch in the passenger compartment. Your equipment must be stored in the padded bins behind the passenger compartment. Your helmet must be secured hi the bracket beside your couch, and must remain within your reach. After touchdown, you’ll be instructed when to don it.” The tech gestured to the lock door. “The shuttle is ready for you to board.”
I let the others go first The couches in the shuttle were oversized, at first glance, but as I saw Kaitlin Henjsen— wearing space armor—I realized the reason. There were ten seats, in five rows separated by an aisle, each seat by itself. I settled into the back, opposite Maejean. She didn’t look at me. She didn’t look at anyone. Behind me, I heard the lock close.
“Please remain in your couches until we have touched down at landing zone alpha. We will be going to null grav until we’re clear of the ship.”
Nothing happened for several minutes. Then my stomach tried to float up into my throat, and I was glad I hadn’t eaten recently. No one said anything. I could feel some motion, but without windows or ports, it was hard to tell exactly where we were headed. The descent was smooth. The shuttle didn’t bounce as I had expected. The pilot set us down with hardly a thump.
“You can release your harnesses now. Before you leave the passenger compartment, please put on your helmets. I’ll be checking each one of you before you enter the lock. Make sure your comm unit is turned on.”
I fumbled on my helmet and checked the comm. I discovered I was first in line. That made sense because I’d entered last. I recovered my equipment bag and walked to the lock door. Everything felt heavier. I hadn’t thought it would be that noticeable.
The tech checked my helmet seal. “Is your comm on, sir?”
The sound in the armor was better than I’d thought. “Yes. I can hear you.”
“Good. I’ll cycle the lock for all of you once I’ve checked everyone. We don’t have nanite barriers on shuttles. After the outer lock door opens, take the ramp down and hold on the dark plastrene waiting area until everyone is out. The groundside team will have someone there to escort you to the briefing room.”
I nodded. Another briefing? I stepped into the lock and waited for the others to join me. Less than five minutes later I walked out through the outer lock door and down the ramp. The only sounds I could hear were those of my own breathing. The sole lights were those from the shuttle and from our own suits, Beyond their radius was a darkness that showed no signs of ever having seen illumination.
Plastrene or something like it had been sprayed in the form of walkway to a rectangle ten meters west of the ramp. The dull gray surface of both walk and rectangle was only a shade or so darker than the ice around it. A figure in armor waited for us.
Kait Henjsen didn’t bother with waiting or the briefing. Unlike the rest of us, she nodded to the waiting tech and kept walking. I didn’t hear anything, but she must have used another band for her communications.
“Good day.” The voice was male and professionally cheerful. “I’m Tech Nuovyl. Please follow me. If you say on the path, your feet will stay warmer longer.”
Nuovyl led us into a lock in a portable building, bright blue plastrene that clashed with everything, then through the inner lock and down a narrow corridor to a room that held ten armless chairs—made out of some sort of spray composite. The color was supposed to be cherry, but it was just reddish ochre-brown, not even close to the wood.
“Please take a seat. You can remove your helmets.”
I sat down. I wasn’t breathing hard, but it felt good to get off my feet for a moment. I took off the helmet. The air in the room was chill and had a faint odor of oil.
A trim woman in blue skintights and the gray shorts and vest of the D.S.S. appeared. They clashed with the walls. “I’m Lieutenant Hvaro. I know all of you want to get on with your work, but we do need to brief you on several matters…”
I glanced around. Maejean was looking at the floor. So was Torres. I found Melani Khalahouri looking at me. We both smiled.
“… be very careful. Twenty percent more gravity might not sound like much, but the difference is enough to make what might be a minor bruise into a severe contusion or turn a bruise into a broken bone. I can guarantee that you don’t want to take a shuttle back to orbit with a broken arm or leg… Try not to touch the walls. Although your armor is nonconductive, it’s still far warmer than anything here. The frozen stuff might look like ice, but it could easily be frozen oxygen or nitrogen. If you touch it for long, it will vaporize and fog up things, perhaps your viewplates…