by Mark Helme
There weren’t many prisoners, and only one Huw Davies. He had obviously made good use of the gym as his prison shirt was struggling to contain his muscular torso. He was bald with an almost pure white scalp, such a contrast to Ewan’s swarthy complexion.
“Nice to have a visitor and a posh one at that, if I’m not mistaken. What brings you here?”
“Your son has become a friend of mine, but is at present awaiting trial. If all goes well, he would like to meet you. How would you feel about that?”
He turned away from me and at first I thought he was showing contempt for the idea of meeting Ewan, and then I realised he was desperately trying to compose himself. Slowly, he pulled himself together and turned to face me. “For the last eighteen years, I’ve regretted hurting Ewan and his mother. But what on earth has he done wrong to be on trial here? Has he hit someone?”
“Why do you ask that? No, he rescued a starving young woman from a Christian enclave. She is now well and is expecting their baby.”
-----
A week later, I was at the court in CRC, standing by Ewan and Miriam to hear their sentence.
“There’s no doubt of your guilt, which you’ve freely admitted. We can’t let a crime go unpunished. You can choose between separate gaols for a year and we’ll ensure good hospital care for the delivery of Miriam’s baby or, if you prefer, you can choose to live together in a religious enclave forthwith.”
Their joyous faces said it all. We were all mightily relieved as the sentence could have been much worse. They were allowed a night to make their decision.
I wasn’t surprised to learn that they planned to join the Buddhist community in Bhutan. I told Ewan about his father and later that day I arranged for them to meet.
That evening, as I gazed out across the Pacific, I felt content that I’d finally paid off my debt to Ewan and hoped they’d be happy in Bhutan. Jas brought me a cold pina colada and left me to my musings while she prepared the evening meal. I couldn’t forget that Petra would be spending that evening looking out over the same ocean, just a few hundred metres away. And yet she might as well have been on the other side of the world as there was no possibility of me meeting her. My parents joined me. I hadn’t seen them for over a year and we enjoyed catching up. Mom knew that I’d become close to Jas and I was touched that she went to talk to her in the kitchen. Meanwhile, Father got me up to speed with the politics of the Board.
“Xanasa’s getting increasingly worried about our reserves of europa. She thinks it’ll run out in a couple of years, even though we’ve increased the production of alternative energy. We’ve exhausted the little europa that was found on the Moon. We’ve been using spectroscopy to analyse the atmospheres that surround the moons and planets in our solar system, to see if we can detect any europa. Ironically, no europa was detected around the moon Europa, but there would appear to be deposits on Ganymede. We’ve now sent three missions to Ganymede. They all landed safely, the robots deployed as programmed, and then all contact was lost. Another large mining craft is about to land there. This time, a satellite will film the landing and subsequent rock sampling. The Board is concerned that without fusion power, living standards will fall significantly, which may lead to riots around the world. Enough of my worries, isn’t it time you found yourself a wife?”
Mother rejoined us.
“I was just saying to Zig that he should find himself a wife.”
“Well, dear, I know you and Jas are close, but you can’t marry a droid!”
I’d been here many times before and had normally put them off by saying I was looking for the right person. This time I took the plunge. “Max probably told you that I was fond of Petra and that she wouldn’t allow the relationship to develop. It was more than a friendship; indeed, we were madly in love for years. Max forbade any contact and Petra refused to run away with me and so we split up. However, I’ve never been able to forget her and hope that she may still have feelings for me. So, now you know why I’ve not had a girlfriend. Please promise me you’ll keep this secret.”
I continued: “I fear that the situation will never change. Each time Petra achieves another scientific breakthrough, Max sets her on another project. Mom, you work with Petra and so you must know how clever she is. What should I do?”
“We’d no idea that you still felt so strongly about Petra. You’re right; most of our best developments come thanks to her. You probably know that she cracked ageing and then revolutionised mental health treatment with Petratherapy. She’s now working on a laser-propelled spaceship that’ll travel at half the speed of light. I’m sorry but I don’t believe Max will ever relent. Ruling the world is a terrible burden to Max. It would seem that her capacity for self-sacrifice is limitless.”
Accepting that I must try to forget Petra, I tried to find a girlfriend while I had a couple of weeks free in Costa Rica. I did meet some of my old friends, but they were all paired up, except for one woman who I’d avoided at university. She was very intelligent but definitely odd. She had no social life, seemingly just living for her research. I certainly wasn’t going to ask her out.
-----
The day before I was due to return to Malawi, the latest mission to Ganymede landed with crystal clear pictures from the satellite. Just as the robotic-rover was taking the first sample, the screen went blank and all contact was lost with Earth.
Father was called to an emergency Board meeting, and that evening told us what had happened.
Space engineers were present and they couldn’t comprehend why all four missions had aborted like that. Xanasa said that as europa was vital for our survival, it was time to send some Commissioners on the next mission to discover what was going on. Max countered this by suggesting that some sort of alien life might be interfering. She refused to sanction a mission that might consign Commissioners to almost certain death. Max proposed that we start building nuclear reactors and gas-powered generators. Max’s resolution was carried unanimously.
I returned to Malawi as it was now November and I needed to be present for Xanasa Day. It was to be the fiftieth anniversary of the CRC conference of December 1st 2062, which had paved the way for half a century of peace and prosperity. I put Black in charge at both Shiretown and Nkhata Bay as he loved organising parties. He arranged for modern bands as well as traditional African drummers, fireworks and a holographic light show over the lake. Alcohol and rush fuelled the night-long revels. I stayed for a couple of hours, pleased to see everyone having a great time. My despondency at having to give up on Petra was not conducive to partying. I was determined to see Petra again, whatever my parents and Max thought.
Four days later, all the reserve pilots of the space ships were recalled urgently to the Great Hall at CRC. The Board and Max were present. Max rose looking fierce and even more determined than usual. “Xanasa has calculated that we can’t possibly build enough nuclear reactors and gas generators in the time available. I’ve therefore changed my mind as we must avoid the catastrophic riots which are sure to occur if we run short of energy. Commissioners need to visit Ganymede to establish what’s going on. I want two volunteers to fly the ship. There’ll be two space engineers on board and three clones. I’ll command the ship myself. I propose that we modify one of the latest fighting ships so that we have enough firepower in the unlikely event that we come under attack. It’ll carry rock sampling equipment that we can control without leaving the vessel. I’m told everything can be prepared for take-off from the Moon in two days’ time. We want the whole project to be run with military precision so that we can collect the samples and get off Ganymede before anything interferes.”
I didn’t like the thought of being attacked by aliens 900 million kilometres from home. Actually, just the thought of being attacked by aliens anywhere wasn’t exactly pleasant. There were 400 pilots and so I felt safe; surely some heroic idiots would volunteer.
That evening, I went to Da
d’s lookout. He was slumped in his recliner, uncharacteristically stinking of alcohol. He looked as if he’d just been told that Mom or one of my siblings had died. With some trepidation, I asked him what was wrong.
“I can’t believe what has just happened. Max was adamantly against this foolish venture. She never takes momentous decisions like this without consulting the Board. We were all told to attend, but none of us had an inkling of what she was about to announce. For the last three days, she has become completely withdrawn. I think the worry about running out of europa has really got to her. I suspect that she’s sleep-deprived, which has caused her to come up with this preposterous idea. You’re not planning to volunteer, I hope!”
“No, Dad, I know I’ve always liked a bit of excitement and adventure, but this mission is crazy. I’m sure that at least two other pilots will volunteer to die as heroes.”
“Let’s hope so. Come have a nightcap.”
-----
The next day, I sent a message to Petra via my flower girl, begging her to see me. I was amazed to get a message back by return. Use your wave-skimmer and meet me at my private beach this evening. I’ve missed you and can’t wait to see you again.
I wondered what had got into her. It was so unlike her to throw caution to the wind. I hoped it meant that she’d persuaded her mother to change her mind, although I thought that unlikely.
I was still pondering this when I was summoned, not to the Great Hall, but to Max’s private office. I entered and was again aware of the background hum of Xanasa’s pumps. She looked up at me and I noted that her usual firm but calm demeanour had been replaced by flinty resolve tinged with anger. “No one has volunteered! I can’t believe that you pilots are all so lily-livered when it comes to the slightest bit of danger. Did you all think it was just a bit of fun flying the fighter spaceships? Of course you did! I can see in your face that you’re afraid and have no intention of volunteering! Your father should be ashamed of having brought up a yellow-bellied coward! Anyway, you and Helmut Steiner are the only pilots who are unattached. So you’re coming with me whether you like it or not. You’ll report to the flight centre first thing tomorrow when we’ll take the moon shuttle.”
As she was finishing this speech, she moved towards her door, opening it on the word, shuttle. I was clearly not supposed to respond.
I wasn’t falling for that. “I’ll only come if Gregor and Sandy are two of the clones.”
I was shaken to the core of my being but somehow made it to the station and collapsed into my hyperloop pod. My brain regained control. At least I had an explanation for Petra’s lack of caution. Max must have told her that I was going to be ordered to join the mission.
I wanted to spend as long as possible with Petra, but I needed to say goodbye to Mom and Dad. I found them unusually together and looking very glum as they stood to greet me. I guessed Max had told them as soon as I’d left her office. Dad came and put his hand on my shoulder.
“Sorry, son, I really hadn’t seen this coming; you must be feeling awful. She never consulted us before she saw you this afternoon.”
Mom was crying as she hugged me. “Zilgrim, you’ve been a wonderful son. We’re so proud of what you’ve achieved.”
If I wasn’t worried enough before, I was now truly shitting myself. They clearly weren’t expecting me to survive!
“Mom, Dad, we never know what lies ahead. Maybe we’ll collect some europa, destroy whatever has been interfering up there and return to Earth.” I don’t know why I said this as it was the opposite of what was going through my mind. Perhaps I wanted them to remember me as a brave hero rather than the coward that Max had accurately described. I told them how grateful I was for all their love and support. As this might be my last evening on Earth, I told them that I was going to meet Petra come what may.
I’d been sweating both from fear and heat all afternoon and was grateful to plunge into the cool Pacific waters before climbing onto my wave-skimmer for the short journey to Petra’s beach. It was a calm, clear evening. She was standing on the beach watching me as I approached. She ran over to me as soon as I jumped onto the sand. It was as if we’d never parted.
Then I noticed a frown develop and her smile disappeared. “I don’t know what’s got into Mom. She’s been so preoccupied and stressed these last few days that I haven’t been able to get through to her. I’ve no idea why she’s changed her mind about this crazy enterprise. I’m horrified that you’ve become enmeshed in her foolishness. I fear she’s chosen you on purpose. I feel guilty as I fear that I’ve been the cause of this.”
“My love, I don’t understand what’s going on, but at least tonight we have each other, and that’s enough for me. Let’s ride my skimmer back to my place.”
“Can two people ride one?”
I’d never ridden two up and feared it would be difficult to balance. Petra was very slim and short, which should keep the centre of gravity low; it was worth a try.
While the board was still on the sand, I placed her slightly in front of where I normally stood and positioned my legs either side of hers. I slowly increased the power until we were moving over the water. She wobbled; we were soon laughing up to our necks in the cool, clear water. Back on the sand, we started again. This time, success! We were skimming the unusually calm waters towards the setting sun.
Jas welcomed us both and brought us drinks on the balcony. She was behaving like a detached butler. I wondered if inside she was feeling jealous. Was this even possible?
After a meal of tuna and tropical fruit, we spent the best night of our lives together. It was just as we’d both wished for all those years ago, deep in the caves of Mexico.
Jas woke me gently at 6 am. I stroked Petra’s soft, smooth legs as she lay sprawled across my bed, deeply asleep. I kissed the nape of her neck and slipped silently out of bed, fearing this might be the last time I touched her. I wrote the following note as I ate breakfast:
My darling Petra, I’ve loved you more than you could possibly realise. My only regret is that we could never marry and have children of our own. Whatever happens on this journey, I’ll be thinking of you every moment of every day. I will love you forever. Zig.
As I sped towards CRC, I considered fleeing to hide amongst the Amish, but I knew I would be hunted down within hours. I just had to accept my lot and face whatever perils the journey brought. Before I knew it, I was greeting my co-pilot, Helmut, who was waiting at the shuttle station. We’d just introduced ourselves to the two space engineers when Max swept down the corridor giving final instructions to my dad, who was to be in charge during her absence.
“I want a full briefing every day, even when we’re on Ganymede. Bear in mind your message will take forty minutes to reach me there.”
Without any pleasantries, she turned abruptly and marched up the ramp.
“Well, come on; what are you waiting for?”
I ran and hugged Dad and then joined the others for our relatively brief journey to the Moon.
I’d always timed my visits to the moon base for when it was in constant sunshine as there was more energy available for guests during those two weeks. On this occasion, it was dark, and all the energy was coming from solar panels on the far side of the Moon. Because of this, Earth was shining even brighter than usual in its cerulean splendour. The stars were unbelievably bright. I thought of Petra as I looked at Earth, knowing that she wouldn’t know where to return my gaze as there was a new moon in Costa Rica that night.
Our ship had been prepared, so we only had a few hours before we were due to leave. I grabbed Helmut’s arm and manoeuvred him towards the hydroponic vegetable enclosure. I indicated that he should leave his X-talk outside. “This place should be free of audio-surveillance, and there’s no reason for Xanasa to be listening to our Xan-links.”
Helmut was clearly as frightened as me. “Has Spitzen gone completely mad?”
&
nbsp; “I wish I knew. Petra says she hasn’t been herself these last few days. Maybe she’s finally flipped.”
“Can we change her mind?”
“I doubt it. She’s incredibly stubborn!”
“I’m not going to be tortured by aliens! Whatever has damaged our unmanned spacecraft on Ganymede isn’t going to suddenly welcome us just because we’re on board.”
“I agree but what can we do?”
“I dunno, but we’ve got twenty-eight days. I’ll sabotage the ship or something.”
We blasted off without ceremony and began our long journey into the unknown.
-----
The day after we left the Moon, I visited the armoury. I was pleased to see Gregor and Sandy going through all the advanced weaponry with Krill (the third clone), who knew this ship intimately. It had incredibly powerful lasers as well as nuclear weapons. I feared we would need every bit of this firepower.
Later, I floated down a corridor on my way to the revolving gym. I was thankful to regain a semblance of gravity as my feet landed on the floor. I started jogging against the direction of spin to prevent vertigo. I wanted to keep myself in good shape in case there was a battle on Ganymede. I had to keep drying myself with a towel as perspiration didn’t evaporate in space. I was already fed up with the sterile white surroundings and longed for the vibrant colours of Costa Rica. Above all, I wanted to be with Petra again. I was lost in this reverie when a scream brought me back to the present. I rushed to the corridor. I had to pin myself against the wall as a cloud of blood globules and human tissue hurtled towards me, closely followed by Max. She crashed into and became stuck on a fire extinguisher. Her eyelids remained open, revealing her horrified eyes. Her jaws were parted in her final rictal scream. There was a massive hole in her chest where her lungs and heart had been vaporised. All the time, the droplets of blood were floating around her as they bounced off the wall. I looked back down the corridor and saw Helmut floating towards me. He had rebounded off the door of the armoury at the other end of the corridor and was now drifting in a foetal position, either unconscious or dead.