He pushed a button to the side of the door and it whooshed open. He motioned for Connelly to enter first. "After you."

Connelly wasn't sure they should be entering a laboratory she knew nothing about without the captain's consent, but the idea of returning to the never ending maze of hallways seemed torturous in comparison. She walked through the door and stood still as she took in the view.

The first twenty-five feet of the hundred foot wide room appeared to be a solid metal platform. Along the walls were long black lab tables. Atop each table were several odd looking machines, with solid black, octagonal shaped bases and a glass top that looked like a giant upside-down test tube. They ranged in size from six inches tall to almost six feet. The larger ones sat on the floor in clusters of five. Inside each of the glass cylinders were plants of various species.

But the strange glass containers weren't what captured her attention the most. Connelly thought the room must be as deep as a football field and maybe a hundred feet tall. From the platform to the back wall, which was barely visible, and covering all one hundred feet of width was a jungle. Scores of plant species grew in real soil and reached toward the ceiling. There were fruit trees, a large garden and flowers; brilliant beds of roses, daffodils, tulips and others were in full bloom. Connelly took a deep breath and smiled as the aromatic air swept through her nostrils. "What is this place?"

"A greenhouse. It provides a portion of our food and air." Peterson bent down and picked a deep red rose. He handed it to Connelly. "Amazing, isn't it?"

Connelly took the rose and placed its petals against her nose. She drew in a deep breath and felt her muscles relax.

"How does it smell?" a firm, feminine voice asked.

Connelly turned around and saw Choi standing in the doorway.

She wasn't sure if they were going to be in trouble for invading the bio-lab, but she decided it would be best to play it cool "Wonderful," she said. "But why are there flowers on board?"

Connelly offered the rose to Choi, who took it, smelled it and then handed it back. "Psychological studies have revealed that flowers have a calming effect on people. Long term space missions can be...stressful."

"That's an understatement," Peterson said.

Choi nodded. "Perhaps you'd like a bouquet for your room?"

Peterson chuckled.

Connelly was feeling more comfortable now. Choi seemed to have no problem with them being in the bio-lab. "What are these?" she asked, motioning to the test tube-like devices.

"Plant incubators." Choi walked to one of the larger units. "Watch."

Choi reached into a small pouch that sat atop the nearest table. She pulled out a single, tiny object that Connelly thought looked like a seed. After twisting off the glass top, Choi pushed the seed into the soil that filled the black base of the plant incubator. She replaced the top and flipped a switch on its side.

A mist sprayed into the glass tube, clouding the interior of the incubator. Connelly moved closer, trying to make out what, if anything, was happening inside the contraption. The glass slowly began to clear, like a windshield defrosting.

Peterson leaned in close next to Connelly. "I don't see anything."

"Just wait," Choi said.

The glass cleared and Connelly thought she saw the soil at the bottom twitch. She focused on the soil and saw it again. "It's moving," she said, her voice almost a whisper.

"Where?" Peterson asked.

Connelly pointed to the soil without a word. They watched, spellbound, as a small green sprout emerged from the soil and twisted upwards, growing at an incredible rate. After twenty seconds the sprout had reached three feet in height and had began to grow small branches and leaves. After another twenty seconds the four foot plant was pushing against the glass.

With her face almost mashed against the glass, Connelly gazed at the plant as the first signs of small, green tomatoes began to grow at the end of the nearest branch. Choi reached over and turned the machine off.

"We let the fruit begin to grow, but it has to finish at its normal speed or it spoils," Choi said.

"How..." Connelly stood up slowly. "How did you do that?"

"The plant's atoms are sped up, which causes a chain reaction in the plant's chemistry and cells. I'm not entirely familiar with the science behind them, but as you've seen, they basically make vegetation grow at an accelerated rate."

Connelly shook her head in disbelief.

Choi's expression changed as she looked from Connelly to Peterson and then back again. Connelly became suddenly self aware. She glanced at Peterson and noticed he was standing comfortably close to her. Their hands were almost touching.

"What are you two doing here, anyway?" Choi said, her tone suspicious. Choi looked at her watch. "Debrief is in ten minutes."

A look of shock appeared on Peterson's face. "We got lost."

Choi squinted at them, making no effort to hide her disbelief. "Then you can follow me to the conference room." Choi moved past them and strode to the door.

Peterson leaned over to Connelly. "It was fun while it lasted," he whispered.

Connelly crossed her arms. "You promised."

"So I lied," Peterson said. "Look, in my line of work, when you find something worthwhile, you go after it."

Connelly frowned playfully. "You're comparing me to dirt now?"

Peterson chuckled as he headed for the door. He turned to Connelly looking over his shoulder. "Dirt, no. A nice diorite maybe."

"A diorite," Connelly said, keeping pace behind Peterson, "doesn't sound too bad. What is it?"

"A rock."

Connelly laughed, but then sucked in her breath, not wanting Choi to hear her. As she exited the bio-lab, she glanced back and thought about how much the world around her was changing. Space exploration, extraterrestrial phenomenon, plant incubators. It seemed everything in the solar system was evolving around her.

CHAPTER 9 -- DEPLOYMENT.

There were two things that Choi couldn't stand.

The first: infectious diseases, which she had spent the better part of her adult life battling on the job for the CDC, and personally after being diagnosed with Hepatitis C, which she contracted from her mother at birth-a fact that was kept from her employers at the CDC, and now, at the GEC.

The second was almost as bad: professional adults getting goo-goo eyes for each other, which she had spent all her life avoiding. She could feel the energy from Peterson and Connelly like it was a static charge in the air, and it made her cringe. To Choi, it seemed that the only human diseases that had no cure were lust, desire, love, and a slew of other emotions that made things of importance seem insignificant.

As she led Peterson and Connelly to the conference room from the bio-lab, she listened in on their conversations. Most topics seemed innocent enough, astrogeology, oceanography and extremophiles, but after joining up with the GEC, Choi spent enough time around crush-struck scientists to know that talking science and using big words was the equivalent of talking dirty to the layman. She'd attempted to be patient with them in the bio-lab, even amiable, but her patience was wearing thin.

Ever since making the move from the Center for Disease Control and Prevention, Choi had discovered a new world of annoyances. Six years ago an outbreak of a mutated common flu swept across the globe. Science predicted common illnesses would reemerge as modern plagues, but mankind had ignored the warnings, bathing in antibacterial soaps, popping antibiotics whenever a sore throat struck, and taking vaccines for every ailment imaginable. The resulting super germs were nearly unstoppable and humanity's immune systems-adapted to having antibiotics and vaccines do all the work-were weaker then a newborn baby's fifty years ago. But of all the new strains of germs, bacteria and viruses that cropped up around 2015, the flu was the worst.

The original outbreak started in Omaha, Nebraska and spread across North America, moving with the produce shipments. It had reached both coasts in three days and before anyone realized it was worse than the seasonal flu, it had leapt to every continent on Earth. Choi was relatively new to the CDC, but they recognized her talents immediately and put her on the first response task force.

Choi's work led to the development of a vaccine, which was mass produced and administered globally, saving countless lives. But the result, while a success for Choi, had been a stunning failure for the human race-two million people died from the flu in 2015.

Choi had dedicated her life to stopping illness before it got out of control. She'd become renowned in her field and a celebrity face at the CDC. It was almost on a daily basis that she was approached by a newspaper, magazine, television news show; even the FBI and CIA had tried to recruit her. But the strangest offer she received was from the GEC. She had laughed when Nancy Heintz introduced herself over the phone.

"What does the Global Exploration Corporation need with an infectious disease specialist?" Choi said with a note of sarcasm.

Choi remembered Director Heintz's next words perfectly. They had changed her life. "I am well aware of your achievements Dr. Choi, and I commend your work. The world is a safer place because of you. But new threats arrive at our doorstep every day. The Global Exploration Corporation's work places our staff at the outer reaches of the global frontier. Did you know that over seventy-five percent of new infectious diseases are first encountered by GEC employees?"

Choi had heard of several cases involving the GEC, but had never totaled them, and would have never guessed the percentage to be so high. Her interest was immediately piqued, though still reserved.

Nancy continued, "Working with us will give you first access to these diseases as well as provide a measure of safety for our scientists, who are some of the brightest minds on the planet. We would place you on the forefront, where your talents could be used to stop these diseases before even one human life was lost."

"But the GEC doesn't have the resources I would need to-"

"Dr. Choi, you will have all the resources you require. Even more than the CDC provides."

Choi was speechless. She'd been made the best offer anyone had yet to make. And it was from an organization that had nothing to do with infectious disease. Or did they? Choi's mind spun through the possibilities.

"What aren't you telling me?" Choi said.

Nancy was silent on the other end.

"Tell me now, or the answer is no."

What Nancy told her next sealed the deal. The human race was going to other worlds and if life was discovered it would almost certainly first be discovered in the form of microscopic germs, viruses and bacteria. The GEC was exposing the world to a vast spectrum of new dangers, and Choi, it seemed, was their chosen leader in the defense of humanity from the extraterrestrial sniffles.

When Choi found out about the Europa mission and the incident in the Arctic, she insisted on being on the mission. She couldn't sit back and monitor the situation, like she did with Mars. She had to be there at ground zero, because what she saw in the Arctic, at Peterson's discovery, was one of the most unusual, complex life forms she had ever seen. The man, Benson, had been killed in seconds with some kind of virus or poison that had simultaneously affected his mind and body. There was nothing else on Earth like it. She felt it was her position to make sure it stayed that way.

No one argued her point when she volunteered to be the mission's second in command. And now here she was in space, defending the earth from microscopic invaders and listening to a couple of scientists ogle over thermal vents.

The door to the conference room whooshed open. She led Peterson and Connelly inside. She was glad to see Harris, Willard and Robert all waiting inside. "Take your seats and we'll get started with debrief," she said to Peterson and Connelly.

Choi took her seat next to Harris and waited silently for him to speak, attempting to calm herself before the coming barrage of questions and answers.

"Deployment of the TES unit will commence in ten hours." Harris got right to the point. It's one of the reasons Choi agreed to serve under him. "The ground crew will follow one hour after touch down."

Harris took time to look each crew member directly in the eyes. "But before you get your feet wet, we need to get you acquainted with your new space suits."

Choi could see the concerned looks already emerging around the table. She wondered how this crew would handle significant discovery if they were thrown out of sorts by a new space suit.

Harris spoke. "We won't be using the bulky suits you had during training. What we have for you is much better. Your work will go much more quickly in these, moving around will be considerably easier and if the worst should happen, they can withstand the polar opposite pressures of open space and deep ocean waters."

Choi picked up a large metal suitcase that sat on the floor next to her chair. She set it on the table, popped the latches, opened it up and swiveled it around so the crew could see its contents.

Inside the suitcase was a folded up, grayish blue space suit that looked as thin and as smooth as silk, along with a matching helmet. Choi took the suit by the shoulders and lifted it out of the suitcase. It unfolded in her hands, looking like a cross between a biohazard suit and a traditional space suit.

She could see the aghast looks on the crew's faces. Knowing they would soon express their doubts as to how this flimsy suit could protect them from both space and ocean depths, Choi launched right into her prepared speech. "This is a newly designed space suit formally called a Personal Multi-Pressure Space Suit, or simply called a PMS."

Choi paused, giving Willard time to finish chuckling.

"It is much lighter than traditional space suits," Choi continued, "and provides ten times the comfort, safety and maneuverability than the old suits. A small pack on the back provides air filtration, heat and pressurization, all controlled by this small screen on the left wrist."

Choi held the left sleeve out for everyone to see.

Robert started to raise his hand. "How-"

"Before you bombard me with questions, let me finish my briefing," Choi said.

Robert yanked his hand down.

"The PMS is made from a flawless silicon reconstruction of spider's silk, which is the strongest natural fiber in existence, only made stronger by man. They are impossible to tear, cut, or pierce. They aid in protecting the human body from radiation, micrometeorites and in combination with a reinforced honeycombed exoshell, they provide a stable, comfortable, pressurized atmosphere."

Choi waited for the first comment. She didn't have to wait long.

"I hate spiders," Willard said.

Choi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew Willard was attempting to be humorous, but his humor was often ill-timed. If it were not for his perfect record when it came to safety and his accurate prediction of unpredictable circumstances, she would have considered leaving him on board Surveyor during the initial landing, if only to avoid hearing more jokes.

"What about the face mask?" Connelly said. "The suit is impervious, but what about the mask? It looks like it could break pretty easily."

Choi kicked herself for forgetting to explain the mask. "The mask is composed of a self-healing alloy. The masks are shatter resistant, but can be cracked under extreme duress. However, if you simply close your eyes, hold your breath and count to ten, your mask will reseal itself at ninety percent its original strength."

"They've been tested in space and excel beyond all our safety standards," Harris said, standing to his feet. "If you could, just gather around. We have suits for all of you and Choi will help you put them on."

As the group stood and began shuffling towards her, Choi felt some relief. Loss of human life had been her enemy-her nemesis-for years. She looked down at the row of suitcases lined up at her feet. The fact that the crew would be wearing PMSs at least meant that something severe would have to happen for one of them to die.

Choi relaxed as she reached down for Connelly's suitcase. She felt certain the crew would be safe. What could be more severe than the bombardment they had already survived?

Sitting motionless for ten minutes straight, Connelly found her palms to be unusually sweaty. Her stomach churned like she'd eaten a cup of butter and her mouth was painfully dry. The symptoms, at first, seemed similar to an anxiety attack. But Connelly's past anxiety had been brought on by simple choices. She had once stood in front of the banana display at the grocery store for fifteen minutes, frantically trying to choose which bunch was best. There was one with five bananas, but they were too small, one with four, but they were too big, and the bunch with five that were just the right size, were too green.

Thinking about her current situation, waiting in the command center, killing time until TES was launched, Connelly knew that this was not a banana episode. She decided to chalk it up to nerves and pushed the subject to the recesses of her mind. Wiping her damp hands on her jumpsuit, Kathy sat up straighter and asked, "How much longer?"

Harris spun around in his console chair. A wide grin was stretched across his face. "Deployment is prepped. We're ready if you're ready."

Connelly felt her stomach stir. She tightened her stomach muscles and bit her lip for a moment.

Why am I so nervous? What am I afraid of?

"Ready," Connelly said, and then looked at Robert, who was seated with Peterson and Willard at a six foot, round table at the center of the room. "Ready?"

"Ah, yes...I've been ready for the past ten hours," Robert said with a grin. Connelly noticed his legs were bouncing nervously. Robert saw Connelly's eye on his legs. "I can't help it. I'm nervous."

Right there with you, Connelly thought.

She stood and shook her hands out, willing the nervousness out of her body. She rolled her shoulders and walked to Harris's side. "What are the chances of anything going wrong?"

The question was meant as space filler-something to occupy her mind. But the way Harris's fingers froze over the keyboard and the suddenness with which he held his breath, told Connelly that it was a loaded question. Harris turned to her and sighed. "You really want to know?"

"I-I guess," Connelly said.