Pantheon - Michael Jan Friedman [225]
At that juncture, only O’Shaugnessy and Santana exhibited rudimentary telekinetic abilities. But in the days that followed, the rest of them followed suit. Only Coquillette seemed to lag behind, never becoming anywhere near as adept as the rest of them.
They never figured out why. But then, they never figured out anything else about their powers either. Their newfound facilities were a mystery to them through and through.
Eventually, there was only one more step they had to take.
Since the destruction of the Valiant, the pods had maintained periodic radio contact—in the beginning, communicating as often as several times a day. Then, as tedium set in and there was less and less to say, their conversations had become correspondingly less frequent.
But in none of these give-and-takes had Gardenhire and his companions ever mentioned their transformations. The main reason for this restraint was simple—it seemed imprudent to give the crews of the other pods a reason to fear them.
Of course, Santana and Daniels could have sent a message to the other pods when they found out about their comrades’ powers. At that juncture, they still appeared to be unaltered human beings, and they might have seen it as their duty to send out a warning.
Why had they hesitated? Not just out of fear that they might get caught, as they quite willingly revealed later. It was because they were explorers by nature, and they wanted to see where their podmates’ transformations ultimately led them.
Such considerations notwithstanding, they all knew they would have to spill the beans someday. And that day arrived when the pods came within scanner range of a solar system.
By unanimous agreement, Gardenhire radioed McMillan and the other ranking officers and revealed everything that had happened. But far from exhibiting concern, the other pods appeared to be relieved.
Because they had been experiencing the same things.
It wasn’t a possibility the navigator hadn’t weighed in the back of his mind. The individuals in his group had been exposed to the same stimuli as the men and women in the other vehicles. It stood to reason that they might be changing too.
But it felt good to know for sure.
Especially when their scanners showed them a habitable planet in the solar system they had discovered. A planet with plenty of water and plant life. A planet where they might have a future.
The same planet toward which Gardenhire’s pod was now dropping like a very large stone.
“We’re falling too quickly,” said Daniels, his brow uncharacteristically creased with concern.
“Much too quickly,” agreed Coquillette.
Through the observation portal, the navigator could see a faint reddish hue—the play of friction about the shields. And as he had noted earlier, the shield generators had seen better days.
“Something’s wrong with the thrusters,” O’Shaugnessy said.
“Can you see that?” Gardenhire asked. “Or are you just guessing?”
“I can see it,” the engineer assured him, his eyes glazing over as he focused his mind. “One of the release apertures is jammed shut.”
The navigator knew that that was no small matter. There were only four apertures and they needed all of them to brake their descent.
“Can you un jam it?” asked Coquillette.
O’Shaugnessy shook his head. “This isn’t a nutritional packet we’re talking about. It’s a machine part.”
“What if we were to work together?” asked Williamson.
Daniels seemed to like the idea. “It’s worth a shot—and we don’t have too many other options.”
Outside the pod, the heat was increasing. What had been a faint red glow was now a deep crimson. They were starting to vibrate as well, starting to experience the roughness Gardenhire had warned them about.
“How’s this going to work?” asked Santana.
Gardenhire turned to O’Shaugnessy. “If you can picture the lever that opens the aperture, we can try to access it through you.”
“Then we all put pressure on it at once,” Daniels added.
“Exactly,” said the navigator.
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