“Four primary fasteners hold the chest plates closed. One at each shoulder, one on either side right above the belt line.” Corporal Guillien sealed up the back of her suit and gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Not bad.”
Not bad yourself. She resisted the urge to wink, and sighed in her mind. I’m not here to find a date. There’s alien relics to dig up.
“Suit’s got the usual feature set. Micro spotlights on the shoulders, integrated communications suite in the helmet. It’ll auto-join the comm net, but you won’t be able to talk until you identify. When you first boot up, you’ll be listening, but no one will know you’re there until you log in.”
She nodded and grabbed the helmet. “How long ’til we go EVO?”
“As soon as everyone’s suited. Might as well seal up.”
“Right.” She gathered her hair into a bun and held it in place while lowering the helmet on. It met the ring with an audible click, and tiny motors locked it in place. A HUD appeared on the visor, showing the filter pod life on the lower right as 99% [29.56 H]. A small bar on the left contained a row of names:
Doc B
SSG Gensch
CPL Mitchell
ElectricWeasel
Paula
PFC Morrow
SGT Coleman
Marco T
[Login]
“What’s taking them so long?” asked a young woman in tandem with a yellow dot appearing by the name Mitchell.
The dot went out, and another came on by ‘SSG Gensch.’ A thick, scratchy voice conjuring the image of an older man flooded her helmet. “Maybe they’re prettyin’ up for us.”
“Come on, people,” said PFC Morrow. “I wanna get off this goddamned rock.”
Marco laughed, lighting up his dot. “Oh, we’re gettin’ nice and ready for you boys. Takin’ me forever to decide what to wear.”
The others must be outside. Kerys stared at the bottom line and blinked both eyes in a slow, deliberate manner. The word ‘Login’ disappeared.
“Kerys,” said Kerys.
Her name appeared in text as ‘Kerris.’ She sighed. “Spelling correct. K-e-r-y-s.” A blink confirmed it.
“Plus one,” said Doctor Bouchard.
“Hi,” said Kerys.
Paula waved, but her voice came over the comm. “Hello.”
Corporal Guillien patted and tugged at her suit in several places before giving her left shoulder a squeeze and flashing a thumbs up. “You’re good to go.”
She smiled to herself, watching him walk over to Marco for a suit check. Even in the form-obscuring e-suit, he cut a striking figure. That he hadn’t hit on her or even commented on her looks made him feel strange and appealing already. That’s going to take getting used to. She grumbled to herself. Forget him. He’s back on Earth.
After the soldiers put their helmets on and checked each other’s suits, Lieutenant Serrano (who hadn’t put on an e-suit) jogged out of the cargo hold, sealing the door behind him. Corporal Guillen approached a panel by the rear door and rested his hand on the wall.
“Heads up, people. About to reclaim the air in there. If anyone gets flashing red or orange stuff on their HUD, speak up fast. A solid red indicator is normal.”
Murmurs of agreement came from the archaeology team. Kerys nodded.
“Come on, come on,” said a female voice. The dot by SGT Coleman lit up. “Nine damn months is over.”
“What are you gonna name him?” asked SSG Gensch.
“Genscher,” said Coleman.
“Ouch,” said the gruff older man. “You’d do that to your kid?”
PFC Morrow laughed. “Your dad did it to you.”
“Depressurizing,” said Guillen.
A red dot appeared at the top center of Kerys’s field of view, indicating the suit detected no breathable air outside. She looked down at her gloved hands, flexed the fingers, and rotated them around to test flexibility. Yeah, this won’t be too bad. The Galileo suit was like trying to work in mittens.
Corporal Guillen pounded a button, and the rear wall opened outward, extending into a ramp. Two men and two women in camo-green e-suits approached. One pair held rifles across their chests; the other each lugged a pair of over-packed duffel bags. The soldiers with the bags rushed up the ramp and dropped their bags on the floor before clasping arms in greeting with Corporal Guillen and Private Foster.
Doctor Bouchard led the way down the ramp, followed by Paula. Marco traipsed along behind them. Kerys kept a hand on a hydraulic strut for balance as she made her way out of the shuttle onto the landing pad. After crossing a few yards of metal gridding, her boot sank into the sparkly ground with a crunch, sinking a good inch as if she’d stepped in loose sand. Flakes and chips of varying size appeared dark or gleamed like mirrors depending on how they lay. She crouched and scooped a handful, wiggling her fingers to let it rain back to the surface.
It’s like black diamond snow.
“Careful, uhh, Kerys,” said a woman.
She glanced left, catching the last second of a yellow dot by Corporal Mitchell’s name. “Sorry?”
“The regolith here consists of flakes and crystals. Some of them are sharp enough to damage an e-suit. You’re walking on a pile of knives. Boots are steel, so no big…”
“Crap. That’s right. Forgot.” She stood straight and waved her hand about to get rid of any traces.
“Everyone does that.” Corporal Mitchell walked over, a dark brown face with large, smiling eyes behind her visor. “It’s so pretty here, y’almost never think it’s deadly.”
“Yeah.” Kerys held eye contact with the shorter woman for a second, offered a polite nod, and twisted to peer to her right. The ridge, her entire reason for being here, seemed more distant than she’d expected, on the far end of a long downhill slope. From where she stood, she could almost make out the glow of artificial lights at the bottom.
“All right, everyone,” said Don. “We need to unload the shuttle before it can leave. There’ll be plenty of time for sightseeing over the next… however many months we’re here.”
Kerys groaned, pivoted, and trudged back across the landing pad to the ramp. The departing soldiers helped as well, much to her surprise―though it made sense given the faster the shuttle got unloaded, the faster they got to leave. It took about ten minutes to transfer the team’s gear to a cargo skiff. Marco grabbed the handle and started pushing it toward the central dome, but Sergeant Gensch moved to block him, pointing at a two-story square building south of the landing pad.
“You’ll be taking most of that gear into the excavation site as far as I understand,” said Sergeant Gensch. “Put all this shit in the garage for now. Personal belongings, obviously, go with everyone inside.”
Kerys hurried over to the skiff and grabbed her two bags, as did Paula, Don, and Marco. She shot a sideways look at Corporal Guillen who hadn’t added his duffel to the pile. He bowed his helmet and kicked at the ground, as if trying not to laugh.
While Marco and Sergeant Gensch took the gear south to the vehicle garage, Corporal Mitchell led everyone else southeast, crossing about two hundred meters’ worth of black sand to the central dome. Up close, the heart of Wayfarer Outpost loomed huge and foreboding, a five-story half-egg with narrow, armored windows like a militarized office building. Wisps of vapor whipped around the antenna array at the top, hinting at a stronger wind than the breeze gliding over the ground.
Mitchell led them to an open airlock at the northernmost point. Once everyone stepped inside, the outer door closed with a barely audible metallic scrape. Kerys gazed around at the immaculate white walls, the word ‘Wayfarer’ in large, black letters on the left, and Avasar Biotechnology on the right.
The red dot vanished about twelve seconds later, and soon, the inner door split down the center and retracted into the walls, exposing a decent-sized room with more lockers, charging stations, and a group of people in jumpsuits. A Chinese woman upward of forty stood at the center of the group in an olive drab jumpsuit,
arms folded, but smiling. Kerys gave the group a quick look as she went to drop her bags, and froze at the sight of a man in a forest green jumpsuit with thick black hair, a rich tan, and giant shit-eating grin.
Will Braxton.
Her ex-boyfriend.
What the fuck is he doing here?
She looked away and down before he could get a good look at her face, hoping the visor concealed her. In seconds, she stuffed her hands in her armpits to stop them from shaking. Don, Paula, and Marco shuffled in, dropped their bags, and pulled their helmets off. Corporal Guillen and Private Foster formed up to the left of the archaeology team. Kerys wanted to stand behind them so he couldn’t see her. She started to feel conspicuous as the only one left wearing a helmet, so she slouched over and pulled it off, letting her hair fall around her face.
Paula gave her an odd look and crept over. “Are you okay, hon?”
No. The room spun. He’s supposed to be on Earth. What the hell! “Umm. Yeah, just a little dizzy.”
The woman in the olive drab jumpsuit cleared her throat. “Hello everyone. I am Captain Emily Chen of the USIC. This installation is not officially under the auspices of the US Interstellar Corps. However, since Avasar hasn’t bothered to send any senior management, I am in charge.” She paused for a few seconds to look the new arrivals over. “This will be your home for at least the next six months, if not longer. I say that because the next scheduled ship will not arrive for six months. In the event your task here runs longer than that, you’d be another six months. We are fully self-sufficient, and this facility can keep going for decades without supplies from Earth.”
Six months. Kerys peered between two strands of hair at Will. Six months stuck in a giant beer can with him. The desire to scream in rage and cry canceled each other out and left her aiming a vacant stare at the floor. At a concerned glance from Paula, Kerys straightened her posture, but refused to look at him.
“I realize your team’s mission is not the usual sort of thing Avasar Biotech deals with, but you’ll be sharing some work areas and lab space with the bio teams.” Captain Chen gestured at Will and an Indian woman also in a green jumpsuit. “This is Doctor Annapurna Bhatia, our chief biologist, and Will Braxton, manager of our botanical science team.”
“Hello,” said Annapurna. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“’Sup.” Will offered a salute with two fingers.
Kerys clenched her fists. Cocky bastard. You haven’t changed at all.
Paula leaned closer and whispered, “Something’s up.”
“No, I’m fine,” whispered Kerys.
“Fine doesn’t tremble.” Paula put a hand on her arm.
Kerys sighed. “I’m not…” She looked down at herself. “Okay, maybe I am. I’m just excited about this job.”
“I hope you’re better at archaeology than you are at fibbing.” Paula gave her a light squeeze. “I raised a daughter about your age.”
A door on the east wall opened, admitting Marco and a muscular older man with thick white-grey hair in a brush cut and a matching mustache. He didn’t look too impressed with the new arrivals, though despite his gruff presence, something about him made him seem trustworthy. Both men carried their helmets, likely having entered via an airlock at the garage.
Marco trotted over to the rest of the team while the other man approached the three soldiers.
“You’ve obviously met”―Captain Chen looked at an e-pad, reading―“Corporal Rick Guillen and Private Ed Foster already. The two of them along with Corporal Gina Mitchell here and Staff Sergeant Paul Gensch are part of the USIC presence on AV494. They’re here to protect you all.”
“Paul?” asked Gina. “Sarge actually has a first name?”
Sergeant Gensch’s eyebrow crept up as he gave her a look somewhere between playful camaraderie and angry drill instructor.
“Protect us from what?” asked Don. “Have you encountered anything out there?”
Captain Chen smiled. “Mostly from each other, but in the event we encounter unidentified hostiles or foreign threats, they’re here to make sure everyone goes home alive. And no, Doctor, we haven’t found anything alive here other than plants.”
Kerys peered around Paula at Will. Argument after screaming argument replayed in her head. Every time he’d made her feel like a possession rather than a whole person came back in one flood of anguished grief. She’d wasted four years on him, counting the eleven months it took battling self-doubt to work up the courage to leave. I didn’t do anything wrong. He’s an ass. After hesitating too long, she’d finally left after it became clear he would never change. Will got what Will wanted. No one else mattered―not even her, not even his parents. Sure, he could be charming, he looked amazing, and he had more confidence than anyone ought to, but she knew him.
A few times, she’d felt sure he’d hit her. He’d never gone that far, but watching him punch the wall or kick the dishwasher had frightened her every bit as much. He always apologized for scaring her afterward, but it never seemed genuine. She didn’t trust he wouldn’t do worse if he ever got angry enough.
A rumble in the ground from the shuttle lifting off hit her like a slamming door.
Stuck.
On this planet.
In this outpost.
With Will.
Inside an oasis of human-habitable space, a few thousand square feet surrounded by an entire planet of quick, painful death.
Continued conversation among the crew dragged down into an unintelligible murmur, as if everyone stood on the far side of the room. He won’t try anything here. He knows there’s no damn chance. She risked a peek again. Will hadn’t appeared to recognize her. She started to breathe a sigh of relief until Captain Chen’s next words pierced her veil of disorientation like a knife.
“This is Lars Deering, and Ellen Vickers. They’re from our maintenance group, specialists with heavy equipment, and will be assisting your team with any heavy lifting or drilling you need done in there.”
Kerys looked up at two people waving and nodding in greeting. The man seemed in his mid-twenties, with short blond hair, close-set blue eyes, and a wide chest. Next to him stood a six-foot-plus woman with a muscular physique, a military-style buzz cut of black hair, and a deep tan. Combat boots and camo-green fatigue pants fit her intimidating presence, though her black tank top with a Hello Kitty face on it did not. Kerys blinked at the dichotomy, and wound up fighting giggles.
“Doctor Bouchard, why don’t you introduce your team?”
“Certainly, Captain. All three are specialists in xenoarchaeology, which as you might imagine, is a pretty small world.” Don chuckled. “This is Paula Driscoll, my right hand. She’s our expert in pictographic languages and cryptography.”
“Hello,” said Paula.
“We brought Marco Trem on board at the last minute with a little help from the university’s finance board.” Don patted him on the back. “He’s had some hands-on experience at a prior site, and well, it’s not easy to come by people who’ve done this before… which leaves―”
“Kerys,” said Will, sounding shocked and annoyed. “What are you doing here?”
He took a few steps closer, eyebrows furrowed. She suppressed the urge to flinch, knowing that look. Will hated when things happened he hadn’t planned on, especially when those things got in the way of his wants. A memory of him red-faced with anger at a flat tire that delayed a trip to buy a new entertainment center came out of nowhere. A mere half-hour to deal with the tire, and he’d melted down.
He has no power over me. She dug her fingernails into her palms and stared him in the eye. “I’m here to study the alien ruins your people found.”
“Kerys’s last team did remarkable work, but she unfortunately got left off the accolades.” Don shook his head.
Will waved his hand about. “No… You can’t. She can’t stay here. It won’t work.”
“Is there a problem, Mr. Braxton?” asked Captain Chen, one eyebrow climbing.
&
nbsp; “Uhh.” Will stared at her, his expression strange and unreadable.
He looks hurt, almost worried. Kerys squinted. No. I’m not falling for it. I’m not too damn brittle and delicate to be this far from Earth.
“They got her on the cheap,” said Marco with a wink. “Million dollar experience, but no paperwork to back it up.”
Don sighed. “It’s not so much that as she wouldn’t have been available for us. Her misfortune, alas, became our luck.”
“No, Captain.” Will set his fists on his hips and grumbled at the floor. “No problem. Forget it.”
What’s he scheming?
Fear gave way to anger. She leaned forward, aggressive, daring him to be his usual self.
Captain Chen tilted her head at Kerys. “I’ll trust there will be no issues?”
“Nah, just a shock is all.” Will put on that plastic smile she so loathed.
Kerys relaxed her hands before her nails drew blood. His reentering her life like a flaming meteor had been the absolute last thing she ever expected to find here… but she would not let him ruin it.
“None from me,” she said, steel in her voice.
“If you need to talk,” whispered Paula. “I’m here.”
Kerys glared at Will’s back as he followed the others out of the room. He hesitated at the door and shot her an irritated look before disappearing into a hallway.
“Corporal Mitchell will show you to your living quarters. I want you all to know that my door is always open.” Captain Chen smiled. “Welcome to Wayfarer.”
3
Routine
Kerys sat on the edge of her bed, unsure if she should feel comforted by its design. A mattress occupied a hollow in the wall like a coffin motel, with an automated hatch capable of sealing up in the event of atmospheric loss. She’d be trapped like a fish in a tank, alive, but it wouldn’t help much if no one survived to find her.
Relax. This place is more solid than the Copernicus outpost… She shivered at the memory of what had basically been a heavy-duty plastic tent. Wayfarer’s pods had four-inch-thick walls with reinforced windows.
Wayfarer: AV494 Page 4