I snatch it from his hands. My eyes question Amy—should we show them?
“All in,” she whispers, and even though I’m not sure what that phrase is about, the meaning is clear.
Everyone crowds around me as I swipe my fingers across the screen. I glance up once at the honeycombed glass window showing the planet, and the video begins.
“What is this?” Bartie asks, drawing closer.
Victria gasps. Amy puts her arm around her shoulders and squeezes as Orion’s face fills the screen.
He sits on a chair in front of the bridge. I glance up, looking at the real chair, the one in the middle. That’s where Orion sat as he filmed this, the planet cresting over his left shoulder, so bright that it cast Orion in silhouette.
ORION: Oh, Amy. I wish I didn’t have to show you this. I really do. Because . . . now that you’ve seen the planet, how can I ask that you turn away?
Orion glances behind him at the planet and sighs. Victria sighs too.
ORION: Because that’s what I have to ask you to do. If at all possible—I need you to turn away, lock this door, and never come back.
Amy’s mouth drops open, but no sound comes out.
ORION: Did you think the big secret was that we were here? That the planet is just on the other side of that window?
Orion shakes his head. I notice that Victria, her eyes glued to Orion’s face, shakes her head just barely too, the movement hardly noticeable.
ORION: That’s not the secret.
Orion reaches behind him and pulls out a sheaf of papers.
“This is what he has,” Bartie says, picking up a sheaf of papers from where they were resting on the control panel. The edges are curled and the pages are dusty, but these are the same papers Orion holds on the screen.
Orion clears his throat, then reads, holding the papers up so the camera can show the report.
We all lean over the sheaf of papers Bartie holds, reading along with Orion’s gravelly voice.
Date: 328460
Ship Status: Arrival
Ship Record: Godspeed has arrived at Centauri-Earth 248 days prior to expected planet-landing. Preliminary scans indicate that the planet is life-supporting, with appropriate gravity, air quality with sufficient oxygen levels, and liquid water. However, additional scans have proven that the planet is already inhabited. Not by any creatures we can tell are sentient, but the life-forms seem . . . aggressive.
Date: 328464
Ship Status: Orbital
Ship Record: We have continued to scan the planet. The life-forms on the surface have been confirmed. Visual probes indicate that the planet is habitable but inhospitable. Our current weapons do not seem a sufficient enough defense against the creatures on the surface.
Date: 328467
Ship Status: Orbital
Ship Record: Crew is restless. It is the opinion of our top statisticians and scientists that we should not fulfill our mission for planet-landing at this point. The surface is too dangerous. Communication with Earth has been severed. We cannot expect aid from other sources, and we cannot defend ourselves outside the ship. We will conduct a vote with the crew, explaining the situation. It is my recommendation that the crew remains on board the ship where it is safe. Our needs are provided for, and the ship’s external engines can be redirected to internal maintenance.
Date: 328518
Ship Status: Orbital
Ship Record: Mutiny. The ship’s crew did not see the logic of staying aboard, despite my protests. There has been significant loss of life. My scientists, however, have developed a method of influencing them to obedience.
Amy and I look up at each other. “This is the Plague, isn’t it?” she asks. “This is where Phydus came from. This—this ‘captain’—he’s the first Eldest. ”