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devotion, and for better or
worse, for the purposes of this journey, it was his and his alone
unless someone else actively chose to join him. Again, he could
understand the reluctance to accept grand ideas of the intangible
and untestable, but what he could not understand, even at the time
when he himself did not believe, is what made those who did not
believe attack the idea of religion with the extreme prejudice of a
seasoned, unified infantry.
    When Cyrus emerged from the lav, Dr.
Villichez was there to meet him. He smiled and clasped his hands
together, but the smile soon dwindled to concern. “As I am in
charge of both the physical and psychological health of all on this
vessel, I feel it is my duty to help keep the peace. So please
forgive me if I am somewhat out of place in being a little unnerved
at what happened at dinner tonight. These meetings are designed for
us to commingle, to fraternize, so that we can exist as a cohesive
unit on the planet while we await our families and colleagues.”
    Cyrus himself was a bit unnerved on being
approached immediately after exiting the lav, but he could see the
corners of Villichez’s eyes quivering, and could tell the concern,
and in turn the urgency, in his voice was sincere. Cyrus adjusted
his jumpsuit slightly, “I am sorry if I had a part in making the
dinner unnerving, but I must say, as your family includes more than
one eminent primate zoologist, you had to have seen what was going
on in there.”
    Dr. Villichez nodded then focused on Cyrus’s
eyes again, resting a hand kindly on his left shoulder. “I could
see, yes, but what I couldn’t see was why you felt the need to
engage him on his terms.”
    This line split through Cyrus’s head as if he
had expected him to say something else, anything else. It wasn’t so
much that Cyrus and Dr. Winberg had butt heads because Cyrus
slapped Dr. Winberg’s hand away from the prize, but rather because
Cyrus too had been reaching for it. “Dr. Villichez, I will make an
effort to keep my end of our dinner table conversations copasetic,
but we’re all equals here. We all have our roles. And from now
until we settle Asha and leave it to our descendants, whenever Dr.
Winberg flexes his academic muscle to berate someone, he and I will
have a disagreement.”
    “Well, son,” Dr. Villichez said, smiling
slightly and lightly rubbing Cyrus’s arm, “I’m sorry you feel that
way. Perhaps Dr. Winberg’s hubris is not so… ominous.”
    Dr. Villichez turned and left in the
direction of the infirmary, using the wall to walk. Cyrus steadied
himself and tried to walk back to his own room, with greater
difficulty than on his way to dinner, but without using the
wall.
    • • • • •
    At almost two meters tall, and only
eighty-five kilograms, Dr. Torvald was tall but scrawny even before
entering the Hyposoma. His flaxen hair, alabaster skin, and angular
features had done nothing to make him look less gangly. Despite a
stature that should have been awkward, Dr. Torvald possessed a
walking grace and a quiet, inviting demeanor that gave him a
presence his initial impression did not always indicate. But now,
to Dr. Tanner, as he attempted to complete a push-up, Dr. Torvald’s
emaciated limbs and arched back made him look like a frightened
stray cat. Then finally, halfway through only his third push-up Dr.
Torvald lurched impossibly backward and a vile mixture of dietary
supplements, liquefied nutrients, and stomach acid erupted from his
open mouth. The vomit splattered in a fan on the floor and settled
in thick globs where he had previously been kneeling. Instantly the
stench of barely processed foodstuffs and hydrochloric acid fumes
spread across the fitness chamber like a fog.
    Almost on cue, the other scientists moved out
of their callisthenic positions and began to reel, wretch, or
recoil from Dr. Torvald’s general vicinity. Dr. Tanner had turned
to face Dr. Torvald as soon as the gagging had begun. “I believe
that is a