This third “Lost Chapter” is still in the novel, but was radically reduced in size with much of the explanatory narrative removed. It occurs immediately after McPherson announces (via commlink) Earth’s plans for the “Salvador Two” mission. :

Angel of Mailànkh – A Little More Hot Air From Earth

White was the first one to see the “incoming” light come alive, on the heads-up status panel. “Yo, Captain,” he said, “Message from Houston. Want to screen it first?”

“No, Devon,” replied Jacobson, “I don’t think that’s necessary. You may as well put them through.”

White complied with a couple quick keystrokes and the view-screen lit up, revealing Symington, Ramirez and McPherson; Abruzzio did not appear to be there. Ramirez spoke first.

“Hello, Eagle and Infinity,” he said, “This is Hector Ramirez down here at Houston. I have General Symington and Fred McPherson here with me – Sylvia is busy with the Arks project which, as you can no doubt imagine, is now going into its ‘full speed ahead’ phase, so she’s not with us today, she sends her regrets. I’m going to turn the floor over to Fred and then to the General, so they can bring you up to date on what our current status and plans are.”

The camera moved slightly to the left from Ramirez, centering on McPherson. The man looked tired and he had a touch of five o’clock shadow.

“Thanks, Hector,” McPherson said. “First of all, I don’t think I need to inform you of the results of the missile attack on the ‘Lucifer’ object… it’s no secret that we’re, to put it mildly, disappointed in what has occurred, or rather, in what didn’t happen. But,“ he sighed, “There’s no point in dwelling on the past; we have to look to the future, and to next steps, now. Before I move to that, though, I’d like to commend Cosmonaut Sergei Chkalov for his fine work in assisting our long-range damage assessment scans on the comet. The data that Cosmonaut Chkalov has revealed has been of tremendous importance in helping us understand the facts and to make plans. So, Sergei, thanks again, and if you find out anything else, please don’t hesitate to send it our way.”

Chkalov nodded modestly.

After a short pause, McPherson continued, “As I said before, you guys up there are probably aware of the situation, but just so that we’re sure that everyone is on the same knowledge base, I’ll recap it briefly here. Bottom line is, we threw everything that we could scrape up against the damn comet, but, unfortunately, it appears not to have been enough – ‘Lucifer’ has been damaged, but not destroyed, and it is still on a collision course with Earth. Now, as you may also be aware, the story is not all bad, because – thanks largely to the efforts of your cosmonaut friend up there – we have discovered that the comet’s internal structure has been weakened by the attack. By how much, we’re not sure, but we are continuing our assessment, and I should tell you that associated with this we have also initiated another manned mission – in effect, ‘Salvador Two‘ – against the comet to see if we can succeed in blowing it apart, by placing nuclear explosives so as to leverage the instability caused by the missile attack…”

Tanaka exclaimed, sotto voce, “Surely they know that would be a suicide mission – the comet’s lethally radioactive and its local debris field is even more intense as the thing has gotten closer to the sun… they’d be lucky if they make it down to the surface for an hour, before…”

McPherson, still in mid-sentence, explained, “…We are having no problems getting volunteers for the crews that we’ll need, but launch vehicles are going to be a challenge, because right now every last ship we can get our hands on, has been claimed by the Arks initiative. Frankly, in view of the outcome of the first Salvador mission, I’m not happy about pulling resources out of Arks – you have to appreciate that to get so many as one or two ships capable of even theoretically making it up to ‘Lucifer’, even for a one-way mission, we’re sacrificing the ability to lift fifty, possibly a hundred, people off Earth to temporary safety; that’s a big sacrifice to accept, in the current circumstances.”

He paused a second to take a breath, then said, “Also, compared to the first Salvador mission, this one will have to take place under severely constrained circumstances, because we had months in which to prepare for the first mission but only a few weeks, at most, for this one. For example, we will have to do it much closer to Earth, just as it crosses the plane of the Moon’s orbit, in fact – we simply don’t have the specialized ships to get out as far as Salvador I, and on top of that, we can’t manufacture bombs the size of the ones that we used on the first mission, there just isn’t that amount of fissile material available – especially considering that the remaining missiles are to be used for a different mission. We’ll keep you advised of progress on this project, of course, but for now, all we can ask you do is to continue observing the comet and to send us data on any changes you see in it, ASAP.”

The Mars-girl whispered, “What is an ‘asap’?”

“‘As Soon As Possible’”, replied Boyd.

“Ha, I see,” the Storied Watcher said, smiling sheepishly.

“Captain, I have to talk to you,” she requested, but Jacobson gestured her to silence.

McPherson concluded by saying, “Well, that’s it from me, Eagle and Infinity, as I said, keep up the good work, we sure can use the extra pair of eyes that you’ve given us. I’m now going to turn the floor over to General Symington. General?”

Symington’s face appeared, even more ridged with fatigue than had been McPherson’s; however, the General seemed more in control, less willing to show his disposition.

“Greetings, crew,” he said, “And let me start by echoing Mr. McPherson’s congratulations to Cosmonaut Chkalov. Sir, I have the honor to inform you that, based on your activities so far in determining the weaknesses in the comet, your Air Force has decided to award you a medal – they haven’t told me exactly which one, but as soon as that information is forthcoming, I’ll send it your way.”

He saluted, while saying this.

“Now, as Fred McPherson has explained, team, unfortunately, our main missile attack did not… achieve its full goals,” Symington commented. “But as you know, we have been drafting a series of fail-safe measures to deal with this eventuality.”

Tanaka suppressed an urge to laugh at the man’s pomposity.

Symington continued, “And I won’t bore you with the details, since you can easily access these on NeoNet, but here’s a summary. Assuming that the second Salvador mission – which, as the previous speaker has correctly pointed out, may or may not make it off the ground – is not successful, as the comet enters Earth’s atmosphere, we’re going to hit it with every remaining one of our nuclear weapons, everything down to sub kiloton-range tactical, in a last-ditch, co-ordinated strike. What’s different now is, we’re going to target these so as to exactly hit the pressure points associated with the newly-discovered fissures; we’re hoping that this will induce the object to fracture and then shatter. Inevitably, the remaining chunks of it will strike the Earth, causing catastrophic results, but this outcome can’t, we hope, be worse than if the whole thing impacted. I should tell you that planning this attack has been extremely complicated, not just because of the number of national commands and different types of weapons involved, but also because we now have to do it in such a way that we don’t also destroy too many of the Arks ships that may be in low Earth orbit at the time. It appears that some collateral damage on this front, may be inevitable.”

“‘Collateral damage’… where have we heard that before, I wonder?” asked Tanaka, idly.

“Other than for that,” Symington concluded, “Our plans, and your orders, remain unchanged; we’re tracking you on course for rendez-vous with ISS2 in its boosted orbit, so that’s good. The only variable that we can see right now is the outcome of the second Salvador mission, but we’re not counting on that, so proceed as you would have. That’s all I have to say… Mr. Ramirez?”

Ramirez took the microphone and said, “Well, that’s the update, Eagle and Infinity. Obviously, we had hoped to have had better news for you, and alternate plans… but life goes on, at least for the time remaining, right?”

He forced a grin and finished off with, “Awaiting your response, if any. Ramirez and Houston, over and out.”

The light and screen both dimmed.

“Go ahead, Karéin,” said Jacobson.

“Captain,” the Storied Watcher inquired, “I heard that your planet is going to send another space ship up to the comet… is that correct?”

“Correct,” Jacobson replied. “As far as we know. The whole project may not, excuse the pun here, ‘get off the ground’, however, due to the issues which Fred McPherson pointed out, when he was speaking.”

“Sir,” the alien continued, “This may represent a way out from our current problem, that is, the one involved with keeping you and your crew alive, after we meet the space station.”

Smiling knowingly, Tanaka said, excitement rising in her voice, “Yeah, I get it! Sam – don’t you see? Earth would be sending the ship to ‘Lucifer’ on a one-way trip. But it would have to have a certain amount of air in it, just to make the voyage to the comet. If Karéin could somehow get us there, or get the ship to us – well, Earth can’t miss something that they don’t expect to get back, can they?”

“Exactly, Professor,” said the Mars-girl. “If, somehow, I can get the humans on this ship to this second Salvador vessel, it could serve as a kind of oasis in space for you, until I can find you a better home. Perhaps I could save the men and women who flew the new Earth ship to the comet, too. Depending on when and where, we meet it.”

“Wait a minute,” objected Jacobson, “Let’s take a step back here, folks. It’s a nice idea, but right off the top, it looks like a non-starter. I can see a number of ‘gotchas’ in it.”

“Such as?” asked a crestfallen Boyd.

“Such as,” explained the Mars mission commander, “Apart from the fact that doing this would require us to seriously deceive Houston as to our guest’s real capabilities – which they have every right to want to put to better uses – as you, Cherie, yourself pointed out, the entire vicinity of the comet is now intensely radioactive. Given the nature of the mission, Houston is very unlikely to shield the new ship from this, after all, the crew only has to live long enough to place the nuclear charges and set them off. Assuming, of course, that the new ship even makes it anywhere near ‘Lucifer’ – we all know what happened to the previous missions, don’t we? The only way that I know of to stop the debris field, and the radiation, from killing us, air supply or not, is to intercept the second ship and stop it from getting to the comet altogether, if Karéin is even capable of that… and I categorically forbid any talk of something like that. There’s a word for it – treason. The worst kind of treason imaginable, not just against our own nation, but against all of Earth.”

“Sir,” the Storied Watcher hastily interjected, “I think I could expand my bubble to protect even a ship of this size, from any amount of radiation, also from impacts with the rocks surrounding the comet. I could probably keep you safe even from the very powerful energy fields of the big planet, you know the one with the red spot on it. The radiation around the comet is no doubt much less strong. So we would not have to stop the new Salvador ship’s crew from reaching ‘Lucifer’. We could just go on board their ship as they approached it. Does knowing this, help?”

“Yeah, okay,” Jacobson allowed, grudgingly. “Let’s assume, just for the sake of argument, that you could do that. But we have other issues to consider. To name just one, how do you get us safely from here, or from ISS2, to the new ship, as it approaches ‘Lucifer’? I thought I heard you say a short time ago, that you have trouble finding things that small, in the vastness of space. And, further to the point, you also said that we wouldn’t have enough air to last the trip from here to, well, wherever?”

The Mars-girl looked longingly into Jacobson’s face, searching for the faintest hint of approval.

Finding none, she stated, uncertainly, “I have to admit, Captain Sam Jacobson, that your objections in these respects are possibly valid. About finding the new Salvador ship, unless it were to deliberately transmit a radio homing signal, something that I could detect by concentrating on that wave-feeling, towards me, I would probably have to fly to the vicinity of the comet and then scan the dust in the debris field for signs of disturbance, a process that might take some time… of course, that would be risky, because the space ship might impact with something and thereby be destroyed, before I could get to it and protect it.”

“Leaving us… kinda ‘up the creek without a paddle’, wouldn’t you say?” observed White.

“If I were to guess at what that expression means, Devon,” the Storied Watcher replied, evenly, “You are right. The only alternative would be to suffuse you all with Amaiish in the slim hope that you would survive the process long enough for me to take you elsewhere. You know the risks associated with doing that. Otherwise… there would not be nearly enough air for you to survive for very long…”

“About that, air, that is,” said Jacobson. “That’s the other problem, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” noted the alien. “Unless I were to compress as much of the air in this ship as possible, at the highest pressure that you humans can safely tolerate, into my bubble, you would likely run out on the way to the new ship. Especially as your people apparently expect it to get to the comet only as it nears your planet, which implies that it will be that much further away from us, when we either leave this ship or your space station. Sergei, may I ask you a question about this, please?”

“Anything, Karéin,” replied Chkalov.

“Do you have an exact, or even approximate, understanding of the relative paths that this ship, the space station, and ‘Lucifer’ are on, and the path of the new Earth ship when it is to intersect with the comet?” she asked.

“Not an exact one,” the Russian explained, “But I can give you an educated guess, since I have been studying the comet very closely and know its trajectory to Earth almost by heart. Basically, our course is diverging from that of both ‘Lucifer’ and of Earth, not surprising when you consider that the objective of boosting ISS2 is to get it a safe distance away from both those bodies. Our course takes us more rapidly away from the comet than it does from Earth, thus, when we reach the rendez-vous point with the space station, we will be at a substantial distance from Earth… assuming that our home-planet is still there, needless to say. With each passing minute, we are getting further away from ‘Lucifer’ and closer to ISS2. Does that answer your question, Karéin?”

“Sufficiently, yes,” affirmed the Storied Watcher, smiling kindly at the cosmonaut. “Captain, in view of what Sergei has just said, I would have to say that doing what I suggested a minute or two ago, that is, compressing the air in here, would probably get all of you to the region of the comet, but not with a lot of margin for error. I would have to check this assumption against the exact figures, of course, because it is not the sort of thing that one can be a little wrong about, in the wrong direction, and not suffer serious consequences. You would all also be subjected to very strong forces of acceleration. I do not know if you have noticed this, but when I travel in space, I do not speed up like your ship does, that is, slowly and steadily. The only way I know how to go involves very rapid acceleration, which I could partly offset, but not completely. I have never tried doing this, with living creatures, other than myself. I think it would be safe, but I could not guarantee it…”

“What if we learned how to use that power of yours to let you move us faster… you know what I’m thinking of, Karéin,” said Tanaka.

“Not enough time to teach you that,” countered the Mars-girl. “In spite of what you know now. Sorry.”

Boyd and Chkalov both raised their eyebrows.

“Yes, ahem,” Jacobson responded, “And the whole line of thought’s invalid, anyway. You all know why Houston wants us to dock with ISS2, that is, to give them access to our supply of air and other vital resources. Sucking it all up into Karéin’s little bubble and waltzing off with it, to parts unknown, well, that doesn’t quite square with our current set of orders, now does it?”

Glumly, the rest of them indicated agreement.

“So,” Tanaka mentioned, sarcastically, “You don’t have any problem with her taking us to Salvador Two, as long as we don’t take any air to breathe, along with us, Sam?”

Wearily, Jacobson replied, “If you want to put it that way, yes, Cherie, I suppose that’s one way of looking at it. But there’s really something much more serious to consider here, specifically, a question that we’ve all been avoiding – namely, ‘if our guest can get us to the comet, what might she be able to do to help Earth, without the burden of helping us‘. Any ideas on that front, Karéin?”

He fixed a steady, serious gaze on the alien.

“I do not know what you mean, Captain Jacobson, sir,” evaded the Storied Watcher.

“Try to free your mind of the need to help us,” Jacobson demanded. “Assume that we’ll be alright, whatever you do or don’t do, for us.”

“But that is not true, sir,” she protested. “They mean to take away your air.”

“Just humor me,” Jacobson said, stoically. “If you didn’t have to worry about us, what would your suggested course of action be?”

Desperately, the alien looked from person to person, for some indication of objection, of common cause. But they all stared blankly back, caught between the urge for self-preservation and the larger goal of Earth’s survival.

Finally, she offered, unenthusiastically, “I have not given that a lot of thought, sir, because I so much want to help you and your crew – my family, my only family, now. But if you press me, I guess… I suppose… I could fly to the comet and guide the new Earth ship to its goal, protect them from the local radiation and debris field hazards, maybe even help them place their nuclear bombs by blasting some deep holes in the comet’s crust… help them to get away, safely…”

White interrupted, “Man, what I wouldn’t give to see the look on those guys’ faces, when they’re approachin’ that damn thing and they get a knock on the outside door, then they see her floatin’ around without a space suit, with a big ‘let me in’ sign on her.”

Chuckling, Boyd added, “Yeah, now that would be a regular Kodak moment, wouldn’t it?”

Seeing the girl’s confused look, he explained, “That’s an expression that means, ‘a scene worth capturing with a photograph’, Karéin.”

“It would not be,” complained the Storied Watcher, “Because I would only be thinking of all of you.”

“But,” said Tanaka, “In so doing, you might be saving all of Earth. Are the needs of a few like us, more important than those of an entire planet, an entire species?”

The Mars-girl now looked like a trapped animal.

Jacobson said, “I seem to remember you telling us of another time when you had a choice like this to make, Karéin. The last blue planet, wasn’t it?”

Glowering, the girl retorted, “I hope that you do not take offense, that you understand that I speak these words with respect – but you speak falsely, Captain Sam Jacobson! You do not know what transpired there; to the extent that I remember it, that situation was… hopeless. This one, is not. There must be a way both to save Earth, and to save you. It is my task to find that way. If, my poor powers can help your planet, at all. That is a very big assumption, not one that I am willing to make.”

“Hey, I got an idea,” voiced White. “Y’all say it’s, like, shootin’ the moon – excuse the joke, please – for Karéin here to drag us over to the comet, because this here crate’s ‘spoken for’. Why doesn’t she just drag the new ship over to us, load us all on it, then get us back there to blow the comet up? We’d have more people to do the Salvador Two mission, all the air we’re ever gonna get and it’d be easier coping with the speedup factor, if we were strapped into those nice comfy seats that NASA sets everybody up with. We could get a commlink fix on them from here, two-way, then when she gets there, they could just tell her to ride the beam back to us. Piece of cake for me to rig up. Whaddya say, Captain?”

He heard a little, soundless voice in the back of his head say, Thank you, Devon, from the bottom of my heart, I owe you much for saying that.

“Brilliant,” chimed Tanaka. “Two birds and one comet, with one stone.”

“Thanks, Professor,” said White. “Y’all think I deserve a raise?”

“Three no trump,” joked Boyd. “There’s a raise for you.”

“That is the ‘bridge’ game, played with cards, is it not?” asked the Storied Watcher. “I started studying it on the network because it seems very popular, second only to chess, which the Captain said I could not play because…”

While the banter went on, Jacobson looked as if he was torn between two masters. At length, he said, jumping in to the conversation, “Moving right along, team, I hate to be the one to kill a beautiful theory with an ugly set of facts, but there are two issues with this plan that you haven’t pointed out.”

“Such as?” asked an again-disappointed Boyd.

“First of all,” explained the ship commander, “We’d be interfering with a critical NASA and Earth mission, potentially the most important space expedition in human history – considering the consequences of success or failure – completely without permission. Needless to say, doing so would be the most serious type of insubordination imaginable.”

“Why don’t we just ask them for permission?” inquired Tanaka.

“That’s certainly possible,” answered Jacobson, “But think of what we’d be proposing – here, I’ll try to enunciate it: ‘Hello, Houston, we’d like to propose that we have an alien from Mars fly over to the comet, completely without a ship or even a space suit and then drag – God knows how, that is, by what principle of physics – the Salvador Two ship over to the Eagle and Infinity, then have her drag Salvador Two, plus us, back to ‘Lucifer’, then have her protect us from the dangers that have destroyed three Earth ships, so we can blow up the comet. This must come as a surprise to you, Houston, considering that as far as you know, she’s just a kind of very old, somewhat naïve human girl. But trust us on this one, after all, it’s only the survival of our entire planet that would be jeopardized if she or we can’t deliver on any aspect of this plan, for example, she runs out of that Amai-whatever energy, halfway back to the comet.’ Sound good to you, Professor?”

Tanaka sulked while Boyd hung his head and muttered, “Does sound like a bit of a stretch, to me, Captain. But look on the bright side of it. There isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that they’ll believe that she’s even capable of flying around out there, by herself, so how can they say ‘no’ to a plan that has no chance of even being started?”

“By the same logic, Major Boyd,” said Chkalov, “How could they say ‘yes’?”

“I recorded quite a bit of her first trip outside the ship,” commented White. “How are they gonna ignore hard evidence like that?”

“Easy,” replied Tanaka, sourly. “They’ll just conclude that we’re all suffering from collective psychosis, caused by the stress of the ‘Lucifer’ situation and by long-term confinement in here, with each other. But, okay, let’s suppose that somehow we can convince them that we’re not kidding when we say we have a semi-godly alien on board with us. Sam, you had another problem with Devon’s idea? Do tell us…?”

“Very much so,” Jacobson said. “Devon, no slight here, but you also made another big assumption – namely, that Karéin can even do this.”

Looking at the girl, he added, in a friendly, paternal voice, “Well? How godly are we feeling today, Karéin?”

The Storied Watcher rose to her feet, paced around a bit and stood, facing away from all of them.

“Not very, Captain, sir,” she said, meekly. “Oh, I wish I could explain to you, in terms you would understand, how my powers work, what their limitations are, how it feels to use them – then you would not be guessing, when we have discussions like this.”

The alien woman turned to face them. “It is like this,” she said.

Her eyes flashed for a second and focused on Jacobson. “I am doing this only because you are the heaviest of the crew, sir, do not be mad at me, oh-kay?”

Jacobson began to float upwards from his seat, involuntarily, despite the pseudo-gravity of the Infinity’s center core drum.

“As you can see,” she explained, “I can use my control over the forces of gravity – actually, magnetism and the third, fourth and fifth forces as well, when necessary – to move objects around. When my powers are at full strength, I can do this to very large and heavy things, up to the size of a large boat or a mountain, perhaps – I do not remember exactly how large, but certainly the size of this space ship, or bigger…”

Jacobson gave her the ‘thumbs down’ signal and she obliged, returning him to his seat.

“How about objects the size of a comet? How about pushing something like that, off its current course?” he asked, as he landed.

“I considered that, sir,” explained the Storied Watcher. “As Professor Cherie Tanaka asked me the same question, some time ago. But it is huge. If I was fully recovered, if I had all my Amaiish-forces, I could try, but even then, I fear that I could at best nudge it. This is the thing that I said is hard to explain, a minute ago. When I am near to, or on, a heavenly body that has a lot of gravity of its own, I can use that power to affect other, smaller, objects in the vicinity – including myself, of course; that is how I ‘fly’, in space.

“But in the case of the ‘Lucifer’ thing,” she elaborated, “I would be trying to use the object’s own gravity, to move itself. I have never tried to do this, nor have I ever tried to move something so big as the comet. Here is one way to describe it… it would be like one of you humans, swimming alongside a big ship in one of your oceans, trying to change its course by kicking your legs against the water. If you had enough time, I mean, weeks or months, you might indeed be able to send it a few hand-spreads in direction from the path that it had previously been on. But I fear that we do not have that kind of time, and we need more than a few hands-worth.”

“Yeah, I see,” acknowledged Jacobson. “I know you well enough to know that you’d already have suggested doing something like that, if it was possible. But okay, if the comet itself is out of the question, we still have the issue of you physically getting to the Salvador Two ship, somehow finding it, somehow,” – he could not suppress a cynical laugh, while saying this – “Convincing them to let you grab hold of them, then dragging that ship here to the Eagle and Infinity, then going all the way back to the comet… and all of this in enough time for the Salvador Two‘s crew to have enough time to carry out their own mission, to completion. Feel up to that job, Karéin?”

The alien looked down, and the others noticed that she had picked up the Earth habit of kicking her feet at an imaginary target, while thinking.

“I honestly do not know, sir,” she quietly offered. “I am reasonably sure that I could, as you say, ‘drag’ that space ship – or this one, for that matter – around in space, almost anywhere in this solar system; that part is easy, more or less. But what I cannot be sure of is, how fast I could go, therefore how much time it would take to get to the comet, back to here and then back to the comet, once again.”

“Explain, please,” said Tanaka.

“Cherie, more than most, you will appreciate what I am about to say,” elaborated the Mars-girl. “I can move very quickly when I am only bending gravity so as to move myself, or perhaps a small additional amount of mass, but a whole space ship… there would be no way to know, without just trying it. And the other problem is, slowing down and stopping. Again, this is not difficult if I am doing so near a planetary body, but we would be ‘dragging’ this Salvador Two ship as fast as possible to get it promptly here, but the Eagle and Infinity only have about the same amount of mass as is the thing that I would be transporting. So I would have to start applying, how you say, ‘braking forces’, much earlier in the trip, to avoid overshooting the rendez-vous point, altogether. Of course, it would not be so hard going back to the comet. I could anchor myself against it and stop almost whenever I wanted.”

Tanaka nodded, knowingly. “Yeah,” she said, “It’s not easy, that’s for sure. I could barely…” She stopped herself in mid-sentence.

Boyd and White shot suspicious glances to each other. Chkalov, meanwhile, seemed preoccupied with something showing up on a computer screen.

“So,” offered Jacobson, philosophically, as he addressed the rest of them, “Let me amend my previous explanation of our plan, to Houston: ‘Oh, and by the way, NASA, we have no idea if, once Karéin here drags the Salvador Two away from this incredibly important mission, she’ll be able to get it back in time to complete the task. But, hey, we’re willing to risk the survival of everyone on Earth, just for the theoretical chance of saving our own skins…”

He shot them an acid look.

“Sounds good to me,” muttered White, unconvincingly.

“Captain,” interrupted Chkalov, “If this of any interest, I have been running some simulations on the computer, comparing Karéin’s last observed flight speed, when outside the Eagle and Infinity, to likely trajectories she could take to the comet and thence back to us.”

“And?” asked Jacobson.

“Of course, I did not incorporate the factor of the mass or weight of the Salvador Two ship, since I have no hard data on that… although I suppose, if I had to redo the simulation, I could assume that its configuration would be broadly comparable to that of the first set of Salvador spacecraft,” Chkalov explained. “In any event, what my calculations show is that Karéin could, indeed, make it to and from ‘Lucifer’, back to here, prior to us arriving at the ISS2 rendez-vous point, but not with much of margin for error. I suspect that this allowance would drop substantially, if she had to also move the Salvador Two ship, but by how much, I am not sure.”

“Meaning, Sam,” interjected Tanaka, “That unless Karéin has learned to do the hundred million kilometer outer space dash in much less time than we have so far observed, knowing the speed at which Houston makes decisions, we’d have to make our proposal to them tout de suite, if we’re to have any chance of pulling this off.”

The Storied Watcher just smiled evasively, at this.

“If we’re going to do that, anyway,” retorted Jacobson. “My point of view on the subject hasn’t changed.”

“And if the Salvador Two is going to take off from Earth, on a schedule that suits Devon’s involved little scheme, here,” added Boyd. “What if they’re just not going to take off on time? You heard McPherson – they’re going to have to intercept the comet much closer to Earth than the first mission did. That implies that they won’t be taking off until later, at least, that’s how it looks to me. And he said that it might take weeks. That would certainly put it out of the question.”

“Point very well taken,” agreed Jacobson. “As matters stand now, I won’t veto this plan, but only because I’ll leave that honor to Houston. For the record, though, I don’t support it – the risks are just too high… ladies and gentlemen, oh, and, aliens, too, we have a higher duty here, one that transcends our own understandable instinct for self-preservation.”

“But can’t we at least ask Houston?” pleaded Tanaka. “The worst they can say is, ‘no’.”

“Certainly,” replied Jacobson. “Although they could say, ‘no, and make that alien fly right over to us, now‘, too, Professor. One way or the other, we have a valid interest in knowing the exact lift-off time of the Salvador Two and its ETA to the comet. If it appears that the timing of this doesn’t completely rule out Devon’s plan, then, although, as I said, I’m not in favor of this idea, I will present it to Houston for their consideration. I should point out that my main reason for doing this is, the conversation that we just had, has convinced me of one thing: it would be very irresponsible, not to say treacherous, of us not to let Houston know what our guest is really capable of. With that knowledge, maybe they won’t approve of Devon’s plan, but perhaps they’ll think of something else. Perhaps.”

“I don’t like where the idea is leading,” complained Tanaka, “But your logic is kind of inescapable, I guess, Sam.”

She looked at the Mars-girl. “Nobody wants to keep you here, more than I do, Karéin,” Tanaka said. “But the facts have changed, since the failure of the Earth missile attack. Sam is absolutely right. We should tell Earth what you’re capable of, then let the chips fall where they may.”

The alien just hung her head, avoiding their glance. Then she said, slowly, “First, I wanted to fly away from here, from shame; you ordered me back, and I obeyed. Now, someone may order me away from here, from you, and I must again obey, though I desperately do not want to. My wants and the needs of the people of Earth, are not very well co-ordinated, do you not think so, Captain, sir?”

Jacobson looked as if he appreciated her mood, and said, “I understand, Karéin, but let’s not pre-judge them; they’re good people, at heart, just a little pre-occupied and subject to factors that we can’t appreciate up here, that’s all. To make it easier, I’ll let you decide how to explain this to them. It’s up to you, yourself, to set expectations; and as a bit of friendly advice, I’d suggest that you tell them only what you think you can definitely commit to. I say that not just because I don’t want to put you at risk, Karéin, but also because, as we just discussed, if you can’t deliver on something that we try to have you do, you could end up making the situation worse, not better. Devon, can you get us ready to record a message to them? Let us know when Karéin can start speaking.”

“Way to put her on the spot, there Cap’n,” interjected White. “But Karéin, just for the record, we all believe in you. Speak from the heart and y’all be fine.”

“Thanks, Devon,” was all she said.

Here is the second chapter that was excised from Angel of Mailànkh, largely for reasons of brevity. It had been located immediately after the part in which Jacobson explains to the crew that the Earth missile barrage has, in fact, damaged the comet. :

Angel of Mailànkh – Challenge For A Goddess

Again motioning for patience, Jacobson said, “That was the first thing I asked Sylvia, myself, Brent. But apart from the fact that some of these missiles are now sequestered for the Arks project, apparently, even were all of them – plus nukes fired from aircraft, keeping in mind that any pilot undertaking that kind of a mission would be on a suicide run – to hit ‘Lucifer’s secondary fragments, the consensus of opinion is that it might at best reduce the amount of time that Earth would be rendered uninhabitable. What Sylvia said to me was that there was a large margin of error in their calculations, so large, in fact, that they felt it would be too risky to assume that the last-ditch defenses could come through. Which is why most of the missiles are going to the Arks project, to lift people off of Earth. They’re still going to fire some of them at the comet, of course, that is, the missiles that are physically too small to accommodate a human passenger, but it probably won’t be a big enough bang, I’m afraid.”

“Damn, Captain… for a minute there, y’all had us going,” commented White.

“Yeah,” Jacobson replied, “But frankly, as a military man, I’m just glad that we did hurt it, even if not fatally, Devon. Proves that Earth isn’t completely helpless – we’re still fighting. It’s fourth and 20 to goal with five seconds on the clock, but the game isn’t over, not yet.”

They noticed that the Storied Watcher had got up. She was pacing around the table, nervously, mumbling something to herself.

“Karéin,” said Tanaka, “What’s on your mind? You look a little… concerned. What’s the matter? This is the best news that we’ve had in quite a while.”

The Mars-girl looked up at Jacobson. She complained, “If I had gone there – if I had attacked, when your weapons did – maybe that would have been the extra power needed to shatter it…”

“We’ve already been over that,” Jacobson calmly countered. “The facts haven’t changed from what they were. With the same set of facts, I’d still make the same decision that I made a short while ago. And besides, Karéin, maybe you did contribute to our attack, more than you think. We might not have damaged it at all, without you having ‘sent your power’ to the missiles – whatever that means…”

“I tried to boost the potency of the explosions, by sending the Fire to accompany them,” explained the Storied Watcher. “I pictured in my mind, a force-barrier around the comet, to reflect the shock waves back upon it. But at that range… it probably would have had no effect at all, like, you trying to throw a stone at something half of one of your ‘kilometers’ away. And just as I was trying to… to… ‘project’, to firm my grasp – your language does not have a good word for this action – something threw off my ability to visualize where the comet was, my concentration slipped and I could do no more. Maybe it was the explosions that did that. I had to try something, I could not just sit idly there, sir, and watch my human brothers and sisters use their last strike. I only wish I had more of a chance to influence the outcome.”

She sounded resentful, if only slightly.

Jacobson nodded. “Point taken, gratefully,” he acknowledged. “And, given Sergei’s description of ‘Lucifer’s current state, I think it’s well within the realm of possibility that your intervention did help. We’ll probably never know for sure, but the point is that you did try, so… thanks.”

“Wow,” interjected Tanaka. “Sam, assuming that what you’re saying is correct, do you know what you’re implying? It’s an awesome display of power. Godly, in fact.”

“You’re speculating, of course, Professor,” Jacobson replied, “But what, exactly, are you getting at?”

“I may be the only career scientist here,” Tanaka said, “But I’m surprised that none of the rest of you have caught on to this. If Karéin’s intervention really was what caused the fissures we now see within the comet, we’re talking about her projecting energy across millions of kilometers of space, using enough energy, in fact, to influence the fluid dynamics of hundreds of thermonuclear explosions, even if only for a split-second. There’s no power on Earth even remotely comparable to that!”

Staring at the floor, the Storied Watcher interrupted. “You are assuming that I had any effect at all, Professor,” she complained. “I have never tried anything like this before. Did you hear me praying? The whole thing was a wish – a hope – that I could so divert the force of your missiles. It was vain of me to try, but what else could I do, when sitting impotently here in your space ship?”

“Grasping at straws ain’t so bad, Karéin,” sympathetically offered White.

Jacobson continued, “All the above having been said, unfortunately we’re still faced with two things that haven’t changed : one, the comet’s still on course to Earth and two, we still have orders to stay on course to ISS2. I’ve been racking my brains to try to see if there’s anything more that any of us – and that includes you, Karéin – can do to influence events; but so far, I draw a blank. I’m open to ideas… any of you have any?”

The all thought for a few seconds. Finally, Boyd spoke up.

“Since our guest is so enthusiastic about seeing the comet up close,” he suggested, “Why not just let her go there?”

They all did a double-take.

“Say whaat?” exclaimed White.

“Well,” said the other astronaut, “We already know that Karéin can fly around in interplanetary space, with about as much trouble as I have in splashing from one end of my swimming-pool, to the other… right? Sergei said that our long-range observations of the comet, and those of Earth, have detected these fissures, as well as evidence of other damage… but there’s nothing definite, nothing that would let us plan or perfect our next attacks on it. Maybe if the ‘Storied Watcher’ here got nice and close to it, she’d be able to find a weak spot, something like that. Even if she didn’t… what have we got to lose? She could just fly back here and we’d be no worse off than we were, before.”

“A very interesting idea, Captain,” added Chkalov. “Karéin could take some of our recording-equipment along with her. We would get much more detailed information about the comet’s structure, its weaknesses, and so on, than we could ever get from the remote sensing abilities that we have now. It is too bad that we do not have a few thermonuclear explosives here on the Infinity and Eagle, so she could see how they would work if detonated from within the comet’s interior – that is, from inside one of the fissures.”

All eyes turned on the alien-girl.

“I suppose,” she said, uncertainly, “That I am in a poor position to object to this plan, since I have lately volunteered to do the same thing, except in the midst of your ‘H-Bombs’, as you call them.”

“Should we take that as a ‘yes’?” asked Jacobson.

“Sam,” interjected Tanaka, “Let’s take a careful look at the risks here. Even without the bombs going off, this is likely to be a dangerous trip for Karéin. The comet’s surrounding debris-field destroyed or crippled three Earth ships, first of all – what if she ran into a large piece of this stuff, as she was approaching ‘Lucifer’? How would she even be able to navigate, inside the comet’s gas-cloud? And remember, much of it is now intensely radioactive – it has been hit by the most powerful nukes we had on Earth… hundreds of them. We’d never seriously consider sending a manned Earth ship in there. Is it reasonable, therefore, to ask her to go, by herself? For what? A sight-seeing tour? I’d like to get all the scientific information I can get on ‘Lucifer’, too, but it’s awfully risky. Again, we have to consider what we’d be losing, if we were to lose her.”

“Well, Karéin?” asked Jacobson.

“I can answer some of Cherie’s questions,” the replied the Storied Watcher, “But not all of them. I will admit that there would be an element of risk to such a trip. The comet is quite far away – if I have been reading your instruments correctly, it is halfway between us and Earth, allowing for some angular-displacement – which means that I would have to fly very fast to reach it, to have a few hours to explore it and then get back to this ship in time to meet your space-station. As I have explained to the Professor and others before, my little ‘bubble’ can easily protect me against high-speed impact with small objects in space; I am fairly confident about larger ones, too, but it has been thousands of years since I would have tested that belief… so I am not eager to find out by accident, now. As for the radiation, do not worry about that – I will absorb it, just more Amaiish for me… it feels wonderful, like the warm rays of the sun. I wish you could experience that, somehow.”

She gave a wan grin.

The Mars-girl continued, “The problem of finding my way does worry me, however, but not in the manner in which the Professor indicated. It should not be too difficult navigating to the comet, and when I get close to it, I think I will be oh-kay… I have never had trouble with such things, before. I have many means of perception that would not be familiar to humans – for example, if I close my eyes, I can perceive waves of energy, magnetism, and so on; it is not as easy to use these to visualize a scene, as is the visible-light-spectrum that you and I are used to, but it is none the less possible. In a way I would welcome the opportunity to exercise this ability, again.”

“Why are you worried about it, then?” asked Tanaka.

“Because, Cherie,” the Storied Watcher said, “I might not be able to find my way back here, to be with you.”

“Huh?” asked White. “You were able to get back from your last little saunter outside, easily enough.”

“Yes, but, Devon,” the alien answered, “I did not go very far from the Eagle and Infinity, when I first tested my space-flying powers, I think I only went a few thousand kilometers from the ship. It is not easy to tell, precisely. The ‘Lucifer’ thing is millions of kilometers from here, and I cannot easily track an object as relatively small as this spaceship from that distance – against the background-music of the universe, your signal is just too small. I could try to estimate your relative motion so that I could fly to where I think you would be, when I returned; but the chance of error in such an exercise, is quite high. It might require weeks or months of searching on my part, to re-locate the Eagle and Infinity, if for some reason my calculations about your expected position were incorrect. On top of that, I would be flying all over the comet, changing my orientation, my direction, constantly, that is the point of the trip, after all. In such circumstances, it is very easy to lose track of things, in space. This is not a problem when one is trying to find and return to a large planetary body – your Earth, for example – but a tiny spaceship… another thing entirely.”

“But you volunteered to fly to the comet, to be there for the barrage,” Boyd opined, half-maliciously. “It would have been even harder to have found us, afterwards.”

“Not if she wasn’t planning to come back,” observed White.

“Good thing you didn’t let her, then,” commented Tanaka, towards Jacobson.

“Maybe, I… I… would just have gone onwards to Earth, or somewhere like that, afterwards,” Karéin replied, evasively. “I was thinking of larger issues, than returning here.”

Tanaka said, “Couldn’t we just give her one of our tracking-devices? She could use it to home on us, if we reversed the signal.”

“Sure,” retorted White, “But Professor, those things were meant to work over a few hundred kilometers, at most, for local tracking down on Mars. Last one we put on her fizzled out at a short distance, which I thought was pretty good, considerin’. But over millions of clicks? Forget it. Ain’t gonna happen!”

The Mars-girl added, “And I had trouble protecting the one you gave me, last time, from the crushing-forces as I sped up. I would be accelerating at a much greater pace, this time. I think that your device would last a few seconds. That applies equally to your recording-devices, your ‘tee-vee’ cameras and so on. You would have to rely on my visual observations, although I could take along some metal plates and burn my notes into them, so I do not forget anything.”

“There’s another issue that we haven’t really addressed,” said Tanaka. “Karéin, do you want to do this? I’d assume that you’d have some small say in the matter.”

“That is, how you say, ‘a good question’, Cherie,” the Storied Watcher replied.

Pensively, she added, “You know me as well as any… so you know that the risks worry me, I will admit to that. But despite this, I think that I would go, especially if Captain Jacobson orders me to. And I might be able to do more than observe. I very much doubt that I could destroy the comet – as I explained before, I would need a huge source of conventional energy as an ‘opener’ for my Amaiish, to do that – but there would be much radiation, the aftereffects of your nuclear explosions, that I could use to tap into my powers and thus damage it. How extensively, I cannot say; but as a great canyon can be made by a little trickle of water, over many years, maybe a great comet can be hurt by a few little rays of Amaiish-energy, of my Holy Fire, over a few hours or days.”

The girl’s eyes glowed brilliant yellow and the sizzling energy-rays that they had seen earlier, issued forth from them, illuminating various objects on the table as the rays played back and forth, harmlessly, but foreboding latent lethality.

The point having been made, the shining stopped, along with the light-beams.

“I forgot to mention,” the alien-girl elaborated, “My eye-weapon is called, ‘The Gaze of the Watchers’, in my language. If it is of any interest – please do not be frightened when you hear this, I do not mean it to scare you, but just so you have something to measure this power by – I am sure that it is now powerful enough to vaporize something the size of this ship, possibly something larger still, in one or two shots. I can fire this weapon at full power only a few times each hour, though; then I become fatigued, and it takes a while for my mind to recharge enough to fire again. So it would scarcely make a dent in a huge planetary body like ‘Lucifer’; but maybe a few dents are all we need.”

With a nervous grin, White replied, “I think we’re all cool with that, Karéin. I mean, y’all wouldn’t have to blast the whole ship to get us, anyway… just a few well-placed holes in the hull would do the trick… right?”

She stretched out her hand, clasping his in hers, saying, “’Measure not power by what you can destroy, but by what you can build.’ It is an old saying of the Makailkh, Devon.”

“Point taken,” interjected Boyd, “But it may not be quite so appropriate in the case of ‘Lucifer’.”

Jacobson seemed immersed in thought, for a moment, then he said, “It’s an interesting idea, that’s for sure. But I’m going to have to think about it. There are some other implications that we have to consider, as well. For example, Karéin’s prolonged absence from this ship is bound to raise a few eyebrows at Houston, if only because they expect her to take a jump to ISS2 when we get there – if she can’t even find her way back to us, well, then, that’s a problem, wouldn’t you say? And consider what’s going to happen when and if we get any meaningful data back from this little trip; the first thing that I’d ask, if I were anyone on Earth, is ‘how did you get those close-up shots’. At that point, we would have to explain how we – or rather, she – did it, and if Earth does find out about her ability to travel as effortlessly in space as she obviously can, I have little doubt that they’ll take complete control over her. Which would be the last we see of our guest… maybe it would be for the best… maybe Karéin could shuttle a few more bombs up to ‘Lucifer’… I’m not sure. Do you all see how this could get complicated?”

As the rest nodded, the Storied Watcher spoke up. “But Captain Sam Jacobson, sir,” she said, “I do not want to leave all of you, especially when your lives might again be in danger when we reach the space station. It was you who awoke me and gave me life… you are my new family. I know that I have a duty to your people down on Earth, and while I will fulfill that, neither will I abandon you. There must be another way – a safe way.”

“Heh,” joked White, “I’d suggest that she just take the rest of us with her… but who’d run the ship?”

At this, he noticed Chkalov giving him the ‘thumbs up’ sign.

“I would love to, Devon,” the Mars-girl replied, amicably, “But there is still that little ‘air’ problem. And the ‘you get crushed to death’ one. So…”

“On second thought…” White shot back, rolling his eyes.

This chapter was originally in Book 1 (Angel of Mailànkh), just after the point at which Karéin expresses an interest in helping Earth’s nuclear missile-barrage, to destroy the “Lucifer” comet.

Angel of Mailànkh – What Mr. Boyd Saw

A few minutes after the meeting in the mess-hall, Tanaka took Boyd aside, as he was heading towards the Infinity’s central core.

The alien-girl was nowhere in sight.

“Brent,” requested the scientist, “You got a minute or two? There’s something I’d like to ask you.”

“Sure,” Boyd replied, “I’m off to see if I can get a good fix on the comet from Eagle‘s high-res cameras… Sergei’s planning to record the ‘Big Bang’, as the Captain calls it, from Infinity, but I’m going to set up a backup recording from the other ship, just in case. What’s up?”

“First of all, I’d like this to be off the record, if you don’t mind,” Tanaka said. “It’s about Karéin.”

“Okay… I guess,” Boyd answered. “Something worrying you about her?”

“No,” Tanaka responded, “The reason that I’m asking you to keep this confidential is, well, because it relates to things that only you and she would know, things that the two of you have shared, uniquely.”

“Ah,” Boyd said, knowingly, “You mean, that time when we were kind of… joined, mentally. When she learned to speak English.”

“Yes,” confirmed the scientist. “I don’t believe that I’d appreciate someone else revealing my thoughts to a third party, which is why I’d like to keep this just between the two of us.”

“Go ahead,” Boyd answered. “I didn’t promise her that I would never do that, but all the same, I’ll have to exercise some discretion here, I guess.”

“Alright,” said Tanaka. “What I’d like to know, Brent, is… you know when she said she wanted to go after ‘Lucifer’, along with the Earth missile-barrage? That kind of got me to thinking, especially after her little side-trip outside the ship, a few days ago; the point is, except for – possibly – yourself, none of us really have any idea of what she can, and cannot, do, how strong she is, how strong she might become. We have all seen how she uses this Amaiish-stuff…”

Tanaka’s voice trailed off momentarily, as she thought, And I know of that, better than any of you, but quickly, she continued, “…On a small scale, but when she makes a proposal like she just did, we don’t have any objective way to tell if she’s serious, or if she’s bluffing for some reason that we can’t fathom. It puts Sam in a very difficult position, because I know he’d like to let her help us – how’s he to know whether a plan like the one she just came up with, is possible for her? But you – you looked into her mind, you experienced her memories… right? If anyone knows her, it’d have to be you. Anything you can say, about this?”

Boyd glanced down at his feet, then shot a quick glance at Tanaka, before looking away. Then he offered, “Whew – that’s a hard one, Professor. Not only because I’m not sure what, exactly, you’re asking me to report about, but because… well, it’s kind of hard to explain, I guess the way that I’d describe it, to the extent that anyone could, is that I did see some of her memories, yes, that’s true… but – and I don’t really know how I know this – there was a lot more that she was holding back from me, deliberately, I think. So I only got a partial picture, basically.”

He thought a bit more, then remarked, “And it was very confusing, Professor, in a way which I can’t adequately explain… here’s my best try, though. Think of your own memories, something that happened when you were a little girl. Try to remember exactly how it felt, how strong you were, how fast you could run at the track and field meet, or whatever. If you even can think back that far, that is.”

“Now try to imagine a memory that might have been from thousands of years ago, when Karéin was – in all likelihood – a physically, mentally and emotionally different being from what she is today, on a different planet, with different powers, probably with a different psyche compared to what we have on the ship now,” he elaborated. “I just experienced a jumble of images, sounds, feelings, like this… I couldn’t tell what order they were in, either – like, we’re assuming that just as a human grows from weaker as a child to stronger as an adult, Karéin has progressed in the same way, but I’m not sure that’s a completely safe assumption. Maybe she doesn’t always get stronger; maybe she sometimes just stays relatively weak. Some of her memories were full of fear, of inadequacy, or, at least, that’s how I interpreted them. None of this is for sure. As the saying goes, ‘maybe it was only a dream’”.

“Yeah, I suppose you have a point there,” Tanaka acknowledged. “But let’s take one memory, as a concrete example, because it’s relevant to what we were discussing a few minutes ago. Am I correct in assuming that you experienced one of her memories, one in which she somehow survived a nuclear explosion? Can you tell me anything about that?”

“There’s not much to tell,” Boyd replied. “As I saw it – through her eyes, or, at least, the eyes of the being that she was, at the time – she was wandering through the outskirts of some city; it wasn’t on Earth, that’s for sure, the buildings were weird-looking, no sharp edges to them at all, and the colors of the vegetation were all wrong – a lot of yellows and reds – not a lot of green. All of a sudden, there was this fantastically bright light, high in the sky ahead of her, and she fell to the ground, flat on her face. Of course, that’s the sensible thing to do, here, too, if somebody sets off a bomb anywhere near you. But now, here’s the weird part… it’s very hard to describe, because I was experiencing, remembering, something that people like us could never do, and live to tell about it… think of how she uses her words for ultraviolet and infrared, ‘color to a blind man’ that kind of thing, that’s the idea.”

“Go on,” Tanaka asked. “If nothing else, you’ve sure got me interested.”

Boyd chuckled a bit, then continued, “Like I said, it’s something that English doesn’t have words for, but, basically, for a split second, she hurt, ‘agony’ wouldn’t be too strong a word for it – man, I tell you, I felt that, myself… not something that I like remembering, believe me. But then the same heat that was burning her alive, not a second before, started to feel good, the nearest I could come to describing it is like how you feel warming yourself in front of a nice fireplace in the winter, or maybe how it feels after you have a good-sized shot of brandy or cognac, minus the hangover, of course. What’s totally strange, is that even though this felt great, I – she – was still very definitely aware of how much energy was coming at her, how hot it was… like holding on to a red-hot poker and feeling the warmth from it, but not the pain. Or maybe, grounding yourself to house-current and just getting a pleasant buzz, while the light bulb in your hand glows brightly. I won’t pretend to be able to describe it, to someone who hasn’t felt it. But that’s her, that’s what she’s all about, Professor.”

“Fascinating,” agreed Tanaka. “But all it really proves, is that she has – at least once, however far in the past – endured what we’d have to assume, is a single nuclear explosion, at some distance. How she gets from that, to proposing flying right into the middle of hundreds of such bombs, I don’t understand. This was what I was getting at, when first I asked you to speak with me, Brent. Did she have any other memories that might help us gage, even roughly, the true, eventual extent of her powers? Anything at all?”

Before Boyd could reply, Tanaka hastily added, “I don’t suppose it needs to be said, because I consider Karéin my friend and I don’t like talking behind her back – but I wouldn’t be pressing you like this, except that the fate of all of Earth might rest on knowing what she can, and can’t, accomplish.”

Boyd now answered, “I hate to disappoint you, Professor, but the short answer is, ‘no’, unfortunately. I recall a couple of images of battles that she participated in – I don’t know how I know this, but I think they refer to really ancient times, far before now – where she acted like a superhero, you know, stuff like laser-beams fired from her eyes, force-fields… the usual. There were also a few of these memories that were so… ‘dark’, that’s the only way I can describe it, that either her mind, or mine, or both of them, just shut them down, I couldn’t feel anything except this unbelievable pall of fear, like the worst nightmare you’ve ever had, only worse… the upshot of all of it is, I doubt that any of the things she was able to do there, would influence events on a planetary scale. Which is not to say that she can’t – just to say, if she can, I can’t swear to it. Sorry, but that’s about it… after all, we were only ‘together’ for a very short time. It was a lot to learn and retain, in a little while.”

“I see,” offered Tanaka. “Disappointing… wouldn’t you say?”

“I don’t know how to take that, Cherie,” Boyd responded, evenly. “She is what she is, no more, no less. Just like us.”

No, not like us, Tanaka thought.

We can be more. Like I am, now.

If we get through this, I’ll show you.

But the Storied Watcher’s admonitions of modesty suddenly came back to the Professor, so she said, “Yeah – you’re probably right, Brent. Thanks for the information. That’s all I needed to know. But if anything comes back to you, can I ask for you to tell me? I promise I won’t inform anyone else… especially, her.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Boyd said. “But now that we’re here, Professor – mind if I ask you something? Also off the record.”

He suspects, worried the scientist.

But she said, “Sure, Brent. No secrets here.”

Tanaka hoped he wasn’t good at detecting lies.

“Well,” he mentioned, “I was thinking about something Symington said, in his last little speech. About her not being able to help us, that is. It might just be the stupidity of the brass – I don’t think I have to elaborate on that – but struck me as odd, that he’d write her contributions off, in the way he did. That is, if he knew what she was really capable of.”

“I don’t follow you,” answered the scientist. “The General said that they’re completely tied up with the grubby business of trying to save the human race, that they don’t have a lot of time to chat with an alien about life, the universe and everything. I might or might not agree with them… but I can certainly understand why they’re doing things that way.”

“The bottom line, Cherie,” countered Boyd, “Is, just how completely have you and the Captain informed Houston of her characteristics and abilities? Like, the laser-beam eyes, the flying in outer space stuff, that kind of thing. I mean – just to take the Arks project as one example – even if she couldn’t stop the comet, from my point of view, it seems well within the realm of possibility that she might be able to save some of the less capable Earth ships, just by pulling them away from Earth when ‘Lucifer’ gets near. I find it hard to believe that they’d have told her ‘just change ships when we tell you and have a nice day’, if they were fully aware of the real extent of her powers. Tell me, Professor… does that sound plausible to you?”

Avoiding his stare, Tanaka said, “I can only speak for myself, Brent, but… well, I’ll be honest with you, as long as we both understand that this really is off the record.”

“Understood,” the astronaut replied.

“The truth is, while I have told Houston all I know about her background, her history, et cetera – after all, it would be a crime against science not to do that, in case something happens to us or to her – I have been… how would I say this… conservative in giving them these other details,” said the scientist. “Yes – I’ll admit to not telling the full story. I think that’s true of Sam, too, but I’m not completely sure. You’d have to ask him yourself.”

Smiling knowingly, Boyd commented, “We both know I’m not going to do that, Professor – none of my business. But mind if I ask… why?”

“You mean why I’ve held back telling them about her powers?” she asked, disingenuously.

“Yeah,” he pressed.

“It’s like this, Brent,” Tanaka explained. “It’s not one reason, it’s a lot of them. First, you and I both know that her powers have been evolving in ways that we can’t comprehend; we have no yardstick with which to measure them, but, if we even hinted to Houston at what she may be able to do, I’m terribly afraid that they’d basically order her to take a run at the comet, whether or not there was any real chance of her succeeding, or surviving. She’s our friend, Brent; I can’t justify ordering a friend to commit suicide over a lost cause, and neither can Sam, you just heard that for yourself.”

“Even if the fate of our entire planet might turn on whether she can, or she can’t?” Boyd retorted. “I’m closer to her than anyone here, at least that’s how I see it, and I know exactly how you feel about not wanting to see her hurt, but are you willing to see everyone on Earth die, because we don’t want her to take a chance? And about her abilities, well, a few days ago she was claiming to have flown across interstellar space. I’m less of a physicist that you are, Professor, but from what I remember of Einstein’s theories, doing that in less than thousands of years implies a big power source. Big enough, surely, to pop a comet or two.”

Tanaka looked at him accusingly and said, “Originally, I too thought she would be more than able to stop the comet – because she said so, after all – I would have gone along with the idea, but then, later, she backtracked, or that’s how it sounded to me. She says she’s very weak now… maybe that explains why she could do things in the past that she can’t do now. I have no idea what motivates her to say and do the things she says and does – she’s an alien, hundreds of thousands of years old, for God’s sake, how are any of us supposed to really understand her – but based on the available evidence, which is all I have to go on, I don’t think she’s capable of doing anything about ‘Lucifer’, except maybe killing herself by attacking it. Maybe that’s what she wants, to atone for this other civilization she keeps talking about, you know, the one she feels guilty about not saving. If that story, or any of her stories, is even true.”

She continued, “One way or another, right now, I fully agree with Sam – it would be a senseless waste to order her, or to allow her, to attack the comet. And Brent, I don’t suppose you’ve considered the other way in which she might help us?”

“By teaching us about alternate worlds that we’ll never reach, about wizards and warlocks, while we slowly run out of oxygen trapped in some sinking ship of a spacecraft, looking down on a dead Earth, Professor?” he shot back. “Was that what you had in mind?”

“Sort of,” Tanaka replied, trying not to take the bait. “What if she can’t save Earth, but can help us recover from the disaster, help us rebuild? What if that’s the role she’s meant to play? If we let her kill herself in some suicidal mission against the comet – or if we reveal enough about her to Houston, to give them the idea of doing that – we’ll be throwing away the irreplaceable future assistance that she might be able to give us, when we most need it. As well as sacrificing a friend. One that all of us have come to be very attached to.”

“Bully for us,” Boyd said, looking at his feet.

“Brent,” Tanaka asked, worriedly, “You aren’t thinking of informing Houston yourself… are you? We had agreed that this conversation was going to be confidential.”

“I have to be honest, Professor,” he admitted, “Yes – I was very much considering doing that. A higher duty to our planet, our whole species, as it were. But I won’t… at least for now. I’ve never been crazy about the chain of command, personally; but at the end of the day, it’s up to the Captain – not me, Sergei or Devon – to decide what does, and doesn’t, get disclosed to the powers that be down there. I have to assume that he has made his decisions, in that regard, as best he can. That’ll have to be good enough for me.”

“Thanks,” Tanaka said, relieved. “I knew I could count on you, Brent.”

“Don’t,” Boyd replied, as he turned from her. “Right now, there’s still room in the lifeboat. But who knows what we’ll all do, when the water gets above our ankles.”

He headed off to the other ship.