The Fall

by J. L. Wood

  The president finally spoke up. “A few of us need to go dark for a moment and have a side conversation. We will return shortly.” The monitors for the president, secretary of defense, NASA representative, and Canadian and Japanese prime ministers went dark. The remaining attendees sat in silence. Some of the leaders muted their microphones and spoke to others that were in their offices. Jessica continued sitting in silence, stewing over Delilah, while Justin doodled cartoon figures of the aliens with hands on the back of one of the photographs. After nearly ten minutes, the monitors switched back on.

  “I apologize for the interruption,” the president addressed the room. “We have decided that it would be in everyone’s best interest if we gathered more information on the creatures from Lerner 4 in Messier 83. As a sister space fleet to the United States Space Force, we will utilize Horizon Shuttles to enact a rescue mission for Donald Wolf, since their fleet is equipped to handle rapid space flight and defense. While rescuing Donald, we have a request for data that needs to be gathered and sent to Jerry Cavero, head of the NASA Collaboration. That data will determine our next steps.”

  “Very wise decision, Mr. President,” Delilah chimed in. “What might those next steps be so that I can start constructing a contingency plan?”

  “If the hostiles do not release Donald Wolf, we will utilize the USSF to destroy the tower to let them know we will fight back,” the secretary of defense responded. “Your services will not be required in this current or any future endeavor other than to assist Michael Stratis as needed with the data you have already acquired.”

  “As always, this information is to remain classified. If this gets into the wrong hands, it could cause mass panic among the citizens,” the president stated.

  The leaders on the screen nodded in agreement. Jessica could only speculate why they would send Horizon Shuttles to Lerner 4d instead of the USSF. Her only conclusion was that they were planning something else—perhaps preparing for an attack.

  The president continued. “We will send detailed information regarding this assignment to Governor Anders, and he will provide status updates on the rescue mission, along with any other details the Horizon crew has once they reach Messier 83. Stay safe, everyone.” The screen of the president went black, while the others followed suit until it was just the inhabitants of the conference room sitting in silence.

  “Let’s get to it,” Delilah said, placing her notepad and printouts into her handbag. “Jessica and Justin, we need to catch up. I need all of the data from the mission, including any video feeds and projections.”

  Jessica ignored Delilah, finding that silence was her best option. She did not want to appear unprofessional when all she could think of was murdering her.

  Governor Anders’s phone dinged, and he quickly picked it up, reviewing the new message. “Oh, they’re initiating Project LMS,” he said. “We are to get in our shuttle directly after the mission—it’s the Malick, from Cadence Science.”

  David let out a long breath. Jessica couldn’t differentiate if he was complaining or just breathing hard.

  “We’re not part of Project LMS, so does that mean we have to stay behind?” she asked.

  Governor Anders put down his phone. “No, you will have a seat, and you have a plus-one. Justin too. You two have done amazing work. All other shuttles will be released early, but the Malick will stay behind for this team to ensure we get out.”

  Michael stood up from the table. “Okay, let’s head out. We need all the time we can get. We can all take my helicopter back to the Horizon station.”

  As the team exited the conference room, Delilah pulled Jessica back. “We need to work together on this, girly. Let’s put our differences aside and focus on Don.”

  Annoyed, Jessica pulled her arm back and harshly whispered, “Do…not…touch me. I don’t need you to find Don. No one here needs you. You’re an imposter. Michael is in charge. Know your place.”

  Delilah smirked, then slyly glanced around her. “You fucking nuisance. Remember this moment. You will regret it when I’m done with you.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Jessica said as she left the room.

  After the encounter, Justin ran to catch up with Jessica. As they walked toward the helicopter, he placed his hand on her shoulder, pulling her in close. “I know what she did, and it was real messed up. But right now we need to keep our cool with them and focus on getting Don.” He looked over at David, who was jogging toward the helicopter, smiling, Delilah leading in front. “Because…I don’t think they want to bring him back.”

  Jessica stopped and shook her head. “Why would you say that? I mean, they’re terrible people, but all eyes are on this mission.”

  Justin pulled Jessica’s arm to keep moving. “I overheard him talking to Delilah weeks ago. When I was, um, well…okay, I was lurking. Once Don is out of the picture, David would own one hundred percent of Cadence Science.”

  Jessica picked up her pace. “We need to tell Michael.”

  – 15 –

  Lerner 4d

  The repetitive system alerts from Carrie blasted throughout the Pitch’s cockpit. “System unstable. In-in-inoperable. Assistance needed, Dr. Wolf. System unstable. Oxygen levels depleting. In-in-in—”

  Donald Wolf let out a low grunt as he rolled over on his side, confused and disoriented. As he fully opened his eyes, he could feel the sting of sweat as it dripped from the side of his face onto the inner rim of his eyelids. His entire body ached, as if he’d been hit by a freight truck, but he was unable to identify what part of him hurt the worst. The simple act of rolling over was a surprise, as he wasn’t sure his body still had the capacity for any sort of movement.

  Don attempted to push himself up onto his knees. In doing so, he heard a crack from his left arm and fell back onto the metal floor of the cockpit, writhing in pain. “Of course,” he muttered to himself as he rolled over again, this time holding his left arm steady and pushing himself up with his lower body. He tried not to think of the pain, to focus only on the continuous alerts from Carrie. But the pain clouded his judgment, and the heat of the cockpit wasn’t helping. He stumbled through the clouds of smoke that billowed from the command board, forcing one foot after the other in his heavy spacesuit to the first-aid kit firmly affixed to the wall near the hatch door.

  As he clumsily fumbled through the kit with his working hand, a task made even more difficult from the heavy gloves of his suit and the need to support his broken arm, he pulled out a thick bandage roll. It had been a while since he took a first-aid refresher class, and he could not remember how to make a sling for his arm. Using the back of the commander’s chair as support for his left arm and his teeth to hold the edge of the bandage, he made several loops around the side of his neck and forearm until he was comfortable that it would hold steady. The sling was sloppy, but he managed to tie a knot in the loose ends with his teeth.

  “That should do it,” he whispered.

  “Carrie, what are the oxygen levels currently at? Are you able to identify the source of the leak?”

  “Oxygen levels a-at sixty-five percent, Dr. Wolf. Leaks identified in quadrants four, quadrant four, quadrant threeee.”

  Don wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Carrie, close the hatches to all quadrants and shut off the oxygen. What about the air in the cockpit? Can you get it cooled? And what about comms?”

  “Quadrants closed. Oxygen disconnected. Air-conditioning mal-malfunctioning. Inoperable. Communications down. Satellite detached.”

  Don knew to be cautious of Carrie’s data. He was unable to gauge how the crash damaged her and if her reports were accurate. Instead of taking her word for it, he made his way to the command board and picked up a headset. “This is Donald Wolf to base. Do you copy?” Silence. He flipped the communications switch to the NASA alert channel. “This is Donald Wolf. I am stranded in Messier 83, the Southern Pinwheel Galaxy, in the constellation Hydra. Exact coordinates unknown. Do you copy?”

  After wai
ting for a brief moment, he clenched his fist. This is not good, he thought. But Justin will come for me. I just need to stay alive until then. He touched his wrist, feeling for the backup device still attached to his spacesuit, wanting to check to see if it was still properly functioning, but the thought of having to remove his spacesuit changed his mind. It was a one-way communication used to send his vitals and coordinates back to the station. The actual device was useless to him other than the dial that he could twist to send poison into his system to end it all. It was a last resort, and he shook his head as he thought about it.

  I hope it never comes to that, he thought as he sat in his command chair. He couldn’t remember how the Pitch crashed. He only remembered seeing the strange creatures and Carrie telling him that the thrusters were stuck. “Carrie?” he asked, uncertain if he would receive accurate data. “Where are we? How did we crash?”

  “Gravitational pull to the exoplanetary systemmm, Lerner 4, Dr. Wolf. Exact coordinates unknown. Satellite de-detached.”

  Don leaned back in his chair, trying not to move his arm in the sling. The thought of being on one of the planets with the creatures terrified him. He would need to walk the surface of the planet to try to repair the satellite to call for help. Justin would check his device if it was still operable, but he had to make sure he could get the right contacts to rescue him quickly. Don needed to put as much effort into his rescue as Justin.

  “First things first,” he said out loud, his throat dry and scratchy. “I need to see if there’s any supplies onboard from previous flights. Would be a shame to die of thirst after surviving a crash.”

  *

  The space exploration helmet was cumbersome. Don struggled to affix it to his head with his one working arm. Once firmly connected, he attached his oxygen tank to his suit and headed toward the hatch to the first quadrant of the ship.

  Quadrant One was in a worse state than the cockpit. He quickly realized that when the ship crashed, it must have impacted the rear end first. He was thankful for that. If it had been the other way around, he most likely would not have lived through it. He made his way through the pile of rubble, dodging the exposed wires that hung from the ceiling, until he caught sight of the full medical kit.

  “Bingo,” he said as he pulled the latch open and admired all the pill packets inside. “This is where all the good stuff is.” His throbbing body wanted him to down some of the opioids now, but Don hesitated.

  I need a clear head, he thought as he pulled the kit off the wall and sat it near the hatch door to pick up later. As he proceeded forward in the quadrant, he abruptly stopped and thought about taking just one pill to ease his pain. No, Don, focus, he told himself. That will be your reward if you find food or water.

  Don proceeded through the quadrant. He wouldn’t find what he was looking for here, since it was used as the testing lab. He did, however, find an extra travel suit nearly in his size, along with an environmental test kit that he’d left near the door to pick up later. Before he opened the hatch to Quadrant Two, he leaned against the side of the ship to catch his breath. The more he moved, the more he struggled. The weight of his exploratory suit made the pain worse and wore him out.

  Keep going, he told himself as he smashed his palm against the square access button on the wall.

  The hatch door jammed two-thirds of the way up, forcing him to duck to make his way into the room. When he stood back up, he was huffing, fogging the inside of his helmet. Through the fog he could see that the quadrant was crushed, its insides pushed inward, creating a small walkway. Items were scattered all over the floor, and he ended up having to kick them out of the way while keeping clear of the exposed equipment that sparked on occasion.

  With all of his strength, he pulled at one of the cabinet doors in the kitchen area until it flung open, causing him to lose his footing and fall backward into a pile of towels. Don let out a long sigh as he gathered the strength to stand back up, to fight through the pain that was now violently shooting throughout his body from his arm. When he approached the cabinet again, his eyes lit up.

  “Thank God for you, lazy, lazy cleanup crew!” he exclaimed. Excitedly, Don pulled one of the towels from the floor and laid it down over the rubble. He then pulled several handfuls of food packets from the cabinet and placed them on top. He remembered always getting on the cleaning crew for not properly cleaning out ships after missions. Today, he was relieved that they never changed.

  He continued into the quadrant and nearly slipped over rubble that was wet from a leaky container. “The contingency water,” he whispered, rushing forward. He found one container with a hole in its side that he struggled to sit upright to stop more water from leaking. There was another container nearby, intact, that Don tried to tug at with his good arm. It was heavy, and the haul back to the cockpit would not be easy. After taking a deep breath, he rolled it onto its side and slowly pushed it over the rubble to the hatch door.

  *

  Don sat in his commander’s seat, out of breath and exhausted. He eyed his findings, relieved to be in a better position than he thought he would be. He raised his right arm to unsnap his helmet, but it was weak and stiff and fell to his side. He tried once more, leaning the back of his helmet into his chair, and forced the snap open, then wiggled free, letting the helmet drop to the floor. He realized that was a bad decision when it cracked as it hit the metal floor. I’ll worry about that later, he thought as he stood up and walked toward his supplies.

  He opened the medical kit with the drugs and fumbled through the contents, unsure of what he should take. “Oxy…” he whispered as he pulled out a small packet and flipped it over, searching for an expiration date. “Expired as of…two years ago.” Using his teeth, he tore open the packet and dry-swallowed the pills. They would probably not be as effective, but he did not know much about medicine and did not want to chance taking more than the one packet. He scooted toward the contingency water and twisted open the tab on the bottom. He let the warm water flow into his mouth. It tasted stale but still refreshed him. The water spilled out onto the floor and his spacesuit, and he immediately closed the tab for fear of wasting what little water he had.

  “I’m okay,” he told himself as he lay on his back on the floor, waiting for the pain meds to kick in. “Missy, I hope you’re okay too. Justin, I hope you find me. I hope you’re…” Don could feel himself drifting off. He was on a soft cloud in the cockpit. It was so comfortable, he wanted to lie there forever. “I’m in Lerner,” he said out loud. “I’m with the aliens. Not the ones we thought we knew. Not the bipedal, probe-you ones. The urchin ones.” Don sat up straight, the realization of where he was waking him up. “Oh my God, I’m on Lerner. I can’t just sit here. I have to do stuff.”

  Don removed the sling and let his arm hang by his side. With his good arm, he released his spacesuit and stepped out of it. Although the room was still warm, it was much more comfortable than being inside the suit. Using his teeth, he pulled off his backup device and gently placed it on the chair. He then attempted to free himself of his travel suit. It was a struggle, but he eventually pulled it off, exposing his bare body to the open air. He thought about sitting that way, but then decided against it. He had work to do.

  Thankfully, the new suit was larger than his original one and not as difficult to put on. Moving as delicately as possible, he pulled his broken arm through the sleeve and reaffixed his sling. He then reattached the backup device, letting a low breath of air escape as the prongs sank in. After putting his boots back on, he checked the device. The green light in the center was still blinking.

  “They know I’m alive!” he exclaimed. “Another win for the books.” After applying the concealer to the backup device and removing the air from the suit, he decided to check out the ship’s controls.

  The smoke from the command board had died down enough for Don to see the state of the controls. So where am I? he thought as he approached the dashboard that was connected to the outside probes. The sc
reen was cracked, but not enough to make it useless. He pulled out the keyboard and began typing commands to check which probes were still functional.

  “Wow,” he whispered as he looked at the results from the probes. The temperature gauge read twenty-two degrees Celsius, and the oxygen content was twenty percent. The findings made him smile. Seems like a decent place. But where exactly am I?

  Don grabbed the environmental testing kit from his pile of supplies on the floor. He believed the probes were accurate but wanted to double-check. He intended to find the satellite to restore communications, so he figured he would be able to complete both tasks at once. Before he opened the hatch to exit the cockpit onto the surface, he eyed the extra exploration suit still attached to the wall. For a brief moment, he considered putting it on and then changed his mind.

  If the probes were off, they wouldn’t be off by too much, he reasoned. His travel suit would do just fine. He pulled a travel helmet from the hanger on the wall and firmly affixed it. The travel suit provided him with the mobility he needed in case he needed to run. He rested his hand on the hatch-door button and hesitated. The creatures, he thought. What if they are outside? Slowly, his hand pressed in the button. “Fuck it,” he said as he exited the cockpit.

  The planet was desolate. Don’s feet sank into black sand as he walked around the Pitch, careful not to leave the safety of the ship. Lerner 4’s sun was setting in the distance, casting off beautiful glows of pinks and purples at the horizon. He tried to orient himself as he looked into the sky, but from his point of view, he was unsuccessful. He resolved that he would return at night.