Callisto 2.0, Susan English [i love reading .TXT] 📗

seat belts and stood in the aisle. Or rather, we floated.

“Let me help you first,” said Diana, who had hooked her foot under the rail attached to the floor of the shuttle to keep herself from floating away. “I’ve had a lot of experience removing spacesuits in microgravity.”

I was grateful for her offer, not sure how well I could handle all the closures on Diana’s suit with my gloves. Diana worked quickly, and soon I was stepping out of my spacesuit. I placed it on the back of the seat with my helmet and then turned to help Diana.

“Much better,” she said as she draped her suit on a seat and secured it with the seat belt. She took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her long, dark hair, which was floating around her face, then wrapped it in a bun, using a hair tie which had been around her wrist.

Sitting back down, I re-buckled my seat belt. Diana sat next to me and did the same.

My eyes were again drawn to the scene outside our window, the Earth now in deep shadow, lights from the cities scattered across the continents twinkling like precious jewels.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she said.

I nodded, there were no words suitable for my emotions. I didn’t dare look at her to find out if she had seen my nod—my eyes were full of tears.

“It will take about two hours to get to the transfer station and dock, so we have plenty of time to enjoy the view.”

We spent the next few hours in silence, watching as the Earth turned under us. When we arrived at Earth Central, the pilots maneuvered the spacecraft perfectly, and in a few minutes we had docked.

When the airlock opened, we unbuckled our seat belts and floated out of our seats.

Diana put her head inside the cockpit to thank the pilots. Our bags were in a cabinet near the door. After putting on my backpack, I reached for Diana’s suitcase.

“Thank you,” she said, eyes flicking to the suitcase in my hand, and I followed her through the space station. “We’ll have to wait for the Terra-Luna Express, which boards in an hour. We can spend the time on the observation deck.”

14

It was something else, floating down the hallway. Some people didn’t like it, because they felt like their stomachs were in their throats, but for me, the sensation was heavenly. When we arrived, we put our bags in a cabinet, and went over to the window that faced the Earth. Around fifteen people were already waiting, staring at our beautiful blue planet.

Diana and I each wrapped a wrist with one of the many straps suspended from the poles scattered throughout the room, to keep our bodies stabilized.

“What a spectacular view,” she said, then turned to me. “Would you like something to eat?”

“Yes, thanks.” Breakfast in my little apartment felt like a very long time ago.

She signaled to a waiter who floated over to us to take our order and returned with two plastic bags.

“I love your name, Cal isto,” Diana said softly, then opened her bag and squirted the mushy substance into her mouth.

“Capricious parents.” I shrugged, not wanting to go into the details about the short-lived resurgence of Hellenism some thirty-odd years ago, and my parents’ fleeting infatuation with the ancient Greek religious practices, which I interpreted as their

“rebellious stage,” before sheepishly returning to the fold of their true calling—

fundamental Christianity. The contents of my own food bag were pretty tasteless, no surprise there.

“I suppose we both can thank Greek mythology for our names.”

“Ah, yes. Diana, goddess of the hunt.” My body was surprisingly relaxed, the usual tightness in my stomach when interacting with other people conspicuously nonexistent.

After so many years of focusing almost exclusively on my work, I was more comfortable with ideas and equations than with human beings. It was rare for me to connect with someone outside of my research field. I smiled.

“What are you thinking?” she asked me. “You look like you’re light-years away.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” My face grew hot. “I was thinking about how much I enjoy your company.”

“The feeling is mutual, I can assure you. And if you accept the position, it will be my pleasure to work with you.”

My gaze dropped to the floor. “The feeling is mutual.”

She laughed. “Marvelous. Let’s see how you like Shambhala and the rest of the team.”

◆◆◆

When we boarded the Terra-Luna Express bound for Tako, Diana informed me that I would have my own cabin for the three-day trip. What a luxury! The porter led us to our adjacent cabins, opened the doors, and floated away.

“Let me stow this,” Diana indicated her suitcase with a nod, “and I’ll be right back.”

Entering the cabin, I took note of a small cot with a sleeping bag attached, a desk, 15

and a minuscule lavatory. There wasn’t much space, and when Diana came in, we almost didn’t fit.

“You can put your belongings here.” She lifted the top of the cot to reveal a cubbyhole.

I set my backpack inside and replaced the cushion. Then I sat on the cot, hooking a foot under the horizontal bar along the floor to stabilize my body.

“It’s a little small,” Diana said almost apologetically as she sat down next to me.

“Are you kidding me? This is my first time on a spacecraft where I have my own room. Usually, I have to share with half a dozen people, all in sleeping bags attached to the walls, like a colony of oversized bats.”

Diana let out a burst of laughter, then looked at her wrist computer. “We can eat dinner in a couple of hours. I’ll come find you then, and we can go to the dining room together.”

Was this really happening? It felt like a dream. I was being transported, first class, to the Moon, and then to an orbital research station. If the team were a tenth as amazing as Diana, it would be heaven.

◆◆◆

A few hours later, Diana knocked on my door. I had been stuck on a calculation and welcomed the distraction. Diana looked at me over her shoulder as we moved through the corridor. “The food on the Terra-Luna Express is the same as on Earth Central, nothing to get excited about.”

“It’s more of a necessity than a pleasure,” I said, thinking of the meals in the government space station, and what a joy it had been to get back home and eat real food again.

When we reached the dining room, we chose a couple of packets of reconstituted mush from the vending machine, then floated over to the window. I wrapped the strap connected to a pole around one of my wrists and used my free hand to squeeze a glob of food into my mouth.

Diana examined her own packet, a frown on her face.

“It’s not so bad,” I said.

She sighed. “I suppose there’s no other alternative.”

I laughed. “The trials and tribulations of space travel.”

She smiled at me, her eyes holding mine. Whenever I spoke, Diana gave me her undivided attention, as if I was the most important person in her Universe. Breaking eye contact, I examined the half-empty packet in my hand, then peeked at Diana out of the corner of my eye. Her gaze had shifted to the retreating Earth, majestic against the inky black backdrop of space. She turned her eyes back to me and I looked away.

“Calli, there’s something that’s been on my mind a lot lately, and I’d like your opinion.”

16

My gaze snapped to her face. “Of course,” I said, my eyes wide with surprise and curiosity.

“Do you believe there are people in this world who are purely evil?”

“Wow, that’s a heavy topic.”

“I suppose it is, and perhaps not appropriate for our first dinner together.”

What did she mean, exactly? Our first dinner together? I laughed nervously. Was she thinking we would have more dinners in the future? It was a three-day trip; obviously there was a good possibility we would have dinner together again. I tried to regain control over my unbridled thoughts. “If you mean, are there humans who are beyond salvation? Not in the biblical sense,” I added quickly. “I mean, humans that are incapable of genuine kindness or compassion? Incapable of doing good?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know. My first instinct is to say that everyone has at least a few redeeming qualities. But there are some mean people in the world, too.”

“Unfortunately, yes there are.” Diana’s shoulders drooped, despite the lack of gravity.

“What do you think society’s response should be when dealing with these types of people?”

“I’ve always been a big proponent of rehabilitation as opposed to punishment. For me, punishment for bad behavior is like fighting fire with fire.” I rubbed my chin with my hand. “Though, now that I think about it, sometimes firefighters do control forest fires with fire.”

Diana burst out laughing. “Tell me, do you often speak in idioms?”

“I guess I do.” I bit my lower lip.

“I find it charming.”

My face felt hot, and I gave her a little smile. “I think there are situations where a particular individual needs to be separated from the community. People who cause harm, I mean.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“When I was younger, I believed that every human possessed a spark of the divine.

Again, not in a religious sense.” I laughed, a little self-conscious. “Can you tell I come from a religious upbringing? Not that I ever believed any of that stuff,” I quickly added.

“Don’t worry,” she said, caressing my upper arm lightly. “If the language fits, it’s fine to use it.”

My arm tingled—I wasn’t used to physical affection. “What I mean is that I used to think there was some special quality that all beings shared—not only humans, but all living creatures—that connected us to one another and to the Universe. Something really beautiful and pristine, like some kind of pure energy.”

“And what changed? You said you used to