Chapter 13
Heather smiled. With church over, she was scheduled to link up with Jennifer and Mark for the afternoon, just as soon as she could get changed and hustle over to their house. It wasn’t that she minded church—quite the opposite. Her church was a positive and uplifting place filled with people of good heart; the weekly service was a pleasant escape from the myopic attitudes that presented themselves in day-to-day life. The singing was a wonderful side benefit.
While Heather’s family was happily Lutheran, Mr. Smythe referred to himself as nondenominational agnostic. Heather actually thought that both Linda and Jennifer Smythe would enjoy tagging along with the McFarland family to their church; they just hadn’t talked themselves into making time for it yet.
But today she and her two friends would finally get the chance they had not had in weeks: a chance to get back out to their starship. They were going to have to name it. Referring to it as “our starship” didn’t seem either appropriate or palatable to her. The Rho Ship was already taken. The Los Alamos Ship? The White Rock Saucer? If they left it up to Mark, it would be the Bandolier Bagel or the Taos Taco or some other God-awful name. Oh well, it would come to her.
By the time Heather had dressed in her jeans, tennis shoes, and an old pullover sweatshirt and lifted her bike from its hooks in the garage, the Smythe twins were waiting in the driveway. The hour-and-a-half ride out of White Rock and then along the rough mountain bike trail to The Mesa left her exhilarated, the excitement rising as they got closer to the spot where they would hide their bikes and proceed on foot.
After the picnic escapade, the three friends decided that telling anyone else about their ship would be foolhardy. It would probably lead to the ship being turned over to the loving mercies of Dr. Donald “Miracle Healer” Stephenson. Considering what they had seen using the headsets and Stephenson’s twenty-year hold on the Rho research, that seemed like something to avoid at all costs.
Heather hoped that her gut feeling was a byproduct of her personal dislike for the man. Still, caution seemed a wise course for the moment.
With that in mind, they proceeded carefully, checking over their shoulders as they rode through the backcountry. At the edge of The Mesa, they stopped to watch and listen. With the pungent scent of pine strong in the clear mountain air, the silence of the wilderness was undisturbed. Even the soughing of the wind that normally swept the high canyon country was missing.
After securing their bikes in thick brush, high on the slope, Heather, Mark, and Jennifer worked their way to where the holograph hid the cave entrance. Just outside of the cave, they paused, taking time to experiment with the illusion. Heather stepped forward until it looked like half her body was gone.
Mark laughed. “It’s a good thing that’s more comfortable than it looks.
She ducked inside, followed by Mark and Jennifer. Although the sun should have been visible from the entrance, no direct light passed into the cave. They could see out, but only dimly, and they had to allow a couple of minutes for their eyes to adjust to the familiar magenta glow.
With little time to waste, they moved quickly across the cavern and climbed up into the ship. Reaching the small room on the second level, each of the three took a deep breath. Then, once again, they placed the flexible bands on their heads.
This time Heather paid close attention, wanting to see if she had imagined the band changing shape when she put it on. She hadn’t. As the marvelously light material settled into place, it adjusted itself to the shape of her head, lengthening so that the bead on each end settled over her temples.
The sensation of mild vibration felt wonderful, like a gentle, professional massage. Relaxation rippled through Heather’s body until she could feel the cool air and her cotton clothes against her skin.
This time there was no automatic dump of imagery, just the heightened awareness and relaxation. It was as if the computers of the ship recognized her. Heather glanced over at Mark and Jennifer.
Mark nodded at her. “I could get used to this.”
Jennifer grinned. “Sorry, Bro. Relaxation time is over. Let’s stick to the plan. Maybe we can get some answers out of the computer.”
Without further urging, Mark led the way up, scrambling through the hole onto the third deck, then reaching down to lift the two girls.
Bypassing what appeared to be a deck filled with sleeping quarters and a recreation area, they continued upward.
The top deck of the ship was a single large room. Four pedestal-mounted couches seemed to sprout from the floor near its center. Heather found it difficult to judge distance in the room, a side effect of the curvature that made it hard to tell where floor stopped and wall began, an effect magnified by the lighting.
Jennifer spread her arms wide, spinning in a slow circle. “Command deck?”
As if in response to Jennifer’s question, the room vanished, leaving Heather and her friends hurtling through the vastness of empty space.
Vertigo assailed Heather as she struggled to breathe, her heart hammering in her chest.
“Wow! This is so cool!” Mark’s voice caused her to glance to her left.
There, standing beside her, were Mark and Jennifer, the former grinning broadly while the latter cupped her hand over her mouth as if to conserve oxygen.
Standing! They were standing. So was she, for that matter, but on what? Below her feet, an endless void of stars and galaxies dropped away.
And how were they breathing?
Mark strolled toward four dim shapes floating in the vastness nearby, plopping down atop the nearest of them, sending it spinning in a circle.
Suddenly, understanding dawned on Heather. It was one of the chairs they had just seen. They were still on the ship’s command deck, but somehow Jennifer had activated the view screen. The whole deck was one massive view screen with resolution so good that you couldn’t tell what you were seeing wasn’t real.
Fighting back a wave of nausea, Heather followed Mark, seating herself in the chair to his left while Jennifer sank into another.
Mark held his hands up like he was on a roller coaster ride. “Awesome.”
It was only then that Heather realized she was clutching the moldable material of the chair so tightly she had formed imprints of her fingers. With great effort, she forced herself to relax.
“Jen? You all right?” Heather asked.
“I’m getting there,” Jennifer replied. “I started breathing again, so that’s good.”
Mark laughed out loud. “You girls are a riot. We could charge big bucks for this.”
Jennifer scowled. “Yeah. Right before they throw us in prison for not reporting this thing.”
Heather gazed out, stunned by the beauty of the scene. It appeared to be a recording of space the ship had passed through. The crew probably sat in these very chairs when they needed to observe what was happening outside. Or maybe the entire deck served some other function, as a massive movie theater or computer monitor.
“I wonder.”
Without bothering to explain what she was wondering about, Heather suddenly reached up and removed her headset. Although she had no doubt that the others were still seeing vast reaches of interstellar space, to her the room looked exactly as it originally appeared.
“Very interesting.”