Mission One

by Samuel Best

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Turn the tables. What else?”

  Jeff sat alone at the small, round table in the kitchen section, slowly breathing in the rich aroma of pepperoni and green peppers; of melted mozzarella and buttery crust. Dehydration had sapped both moisture and color from the toppings of the small, square pizza, leaving the pepperoni crusty and slightly orange, and the green peppers more white than green. Despite the fact that no one had ever succeeded in making anything that resembled an edible pizza while outside the Earth’s atmosphere, Jeff was compelled to admit the experiment was a success.

  His stomach rumbled forcefully enough to shake the fabric of his shirt as he stared down at the steaming pizza, yet he couldn’t bring himself to eat. He kept thinking about the dead crew of the North Star – about their horrid, twisted faces.

  He pushed the pizza away as Gabriel walked into the kitchen section. He sat opposite Jeff and looked at the pizza for several long, silent moments.

  “How did you do it?” he asked. “It’s too big for the rehydrator.”

  “UV setting on the doctor pod.”

  Gabriel nodded slightly. His short, black hair was matted on top from his suit helmet. “Solar cooker. Very good. Riley might not like that his tanning bed was used for an oven.”

  “He can sue me. Want some?”

  Gabriel hesitated. “I can’t.” Dark half-moons cradled his eyes from below. He scratched at the black and white stubble covering his chin. “Aren’t you going to eat? You brought it all this way.”

  Jeff shook his head. “They ruined it,” he said.

  “Ruined what? Your pizza?”

  “Everything.”

  “Who?”

  Jeff shrugged. “Frank. Noah. MarsCorp. This was supposed to be our next big step. Mars has been the barrier of our interests, until now. It took monumental tenacity to get this ship off the ground, let alone to send it to Titan. That by itself is a feat worthy of the history books. The mission was…it was pure. Research and exploration and discovery. The foundations of the space industry.”

  “No,” said Gabriel. “Those are only side effects. Far more practical gears turn this machine, gears so large they would pulverize any monkey wrench we could toss inside. Yet without them, we wouldn’t be here. It is the very definition of the term ‘necessary evil’.”

  “I used to believe that, but Noah changed my mind. He made me believe he wanted something different for all of us, not just another mining outpost.”

  “Maybe he does. But he can’t get there without industry.”

  Somewhere in the walls, an oxygen compressor thrummed. Cold recycled air from vents in the central pillar wafted through the kitchen section. Steam no longer rose from the pizza.

  “They told us we would be the first ones out here,” Jeff said.

  Gabriel studied him. “You wanted a byline?”

  Jeff met his gaze. “I wanted awe and wonder.”

  “You haven’t gotten it yet? That’s an alien artifact out there, Jeff, orbiting a moon no human has ever seen with their own eyes.”

  “And yet it’s tainted, isn’t it? Everything about the mission feels wrong.”

  “That’s on you,” said Gabriel.

  “You don’t agree?”

  “I’m scared shitless. But for now, my curiosity is so overpowering that I ignore my shaking hands. Let me show you something.”

  Jeff left the pizza cooling on the table and followed Gabriel to the science lab.

  “I saw this as soon as I came back inside with Riley,” Gabriel continued.

  He led Jeff to the shoulder-high racks of plants he had cultivated on the journey from Earth – oxygen- and food-providing specimens intended for the orbital space station’s greenhouse.

  Five stacked rows of once-verdant foliage now hung limp on graying stalks, their leaves brown and wilted. Jeff hesitantly reached out and touched the nearest leaf. The dried husk broke and crumbled under his light touch. The shriveled lima bean sprout was a disheartening end piece on one of the rows.

  “They were alive this morning,” he said. “Well, except for the lima bean.”

  “Thriving,” Gabriel agreed.

  “I should check atmospheric. Maybe the composition is off.”

  “I already looked. You run a tight ship, Jeff. The readings are normal.”

  “What was it, then?”

  Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “What, indeed?”

  Jeff looked at him. “You don’t think it was the artifact.”

  “What else? Consider instant communication with Earth. What if the torus generates some kind of field that makes such communication possible? Explorer could be piggybacking on that system. Reversed electrostatic fields interfere with plant growth, and if the torus can produce a strong enough field to instantly send messages halfway across the solar system…” He shrugged.

  “Or the soil is bad,” Jeff said.

  “I’m just saying there are other possibilities. That’s why I’m not giving up. I don’t care how we ended up where we are, my friend. I care that we’re here, now, and I plan on making the most of it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Gabriel rested his hand on Jeff’s shoulder and smiled. “It means I have a mystery to solve.”

  Half the pizza was gone by the time Jeff made it back to the dining room. Riley stood by the small table, holding a piece of crust and chewing methodically, staring at nothing.

  “It’s cold,” he said between chews as Jeff walked over to him. “But good.”

  “I used the doctor pod to heat it up. There might still be some melted cheese inside.”

  Riley stopped chewing. His eyes tracked over to Jeff, then he swallowed. Despite the cool temperature in the crew module, sweat ringed the neck of his white shirt.

  “You know, Dolan,” he said, “I’m surprised you made the final cut for this mission. Your test scores were solid, but I would have thought they wanted someone with–”

  “A little less personality?” Jeff interrupted.

  “I was going to say a grander sense of duty. Your attitude changed pretty quick once things went south.”

  “Is that why you’re pissy? Should I be happy about the way things are turning out?”

  Riley dropped the uneaten crust on the table and jabbed a finger in Jeff’s direction. “You should keep your mouth shut and do your job, like the rest of us.”

  “You’re scared,” Jeff said suddenly. “I just realized it.”

  “Of course I’m scared! I saw those people up close!” he yelled, pointing in the direction of North Star. “We have a job to do and you sit around bitching about life being unfair and you’re making pizza–”

  “That you just ate!” Jeff said heatedly. He took a step forward and said, loudly, “If you think for one second that I don’t take my job seriously then–”

  He stopped as Gabriel strolled into the dining area from the direction of the science lab, whistling. Gabriel smiled at Jeff and Riley. They watched him pass through the crew quarters, climb the ladder at the front of the crew module, and float down the access tunnel leading to the command module.

  The tension that had been building inside of Jeff slowly dissolved in the electric silence that hung in the air.

  “I’m angry,” he said at last.

  “I know you are,” Riley said. “We all are, for God’s sake. I mean, look at me. I haven’t been this upset since my divorce. But being angry does nothing for our current situation.”

  “Maybe take your own advice on that one.”

  “I need to. Look, you hate the fact that there was an engine problem before launch. I get that. You hate the fact that the company lied to you. No one can blame you. Bottle that anger until we get home, then do something useful with it. Out here…we need you to keep the ship running, no matter how screwed the situation becomes. We depend on it. It will take all four of us to build that space station. Frank is sending us outside now to get started, but we’re going to pu
t some distance between us and that thing outside first. So, what do you say? Want to help build it, or not?”

  Blood rushed to Jeff’s cheeks again, triggered by shame instead of anger. He was getting ready to respond when yellow caution lamps flicked on in the central pillar, casting a sickly glow on the floor of the centrifuge.

  “What the hell?” Riley said, looking around in confusion. Then he bellowed, “Who the hell’s in the goddamn airlock?!”

  “Commander Riley,” Ming said over the intercom. “It’s Gabriel. He just started depressurizing.”

  With surprising speed given the reduced gravity, Riley took two big leaps to the nearest dividing wall and scaled it without slowing, launching himself to the central pillar. He grabbed the nearest ladder rung and pulled the rest of his body into zero-g, then coasted the short distance to the T-junction separating the modules, mumbling curses as he went.

  The kitchen was only the second section from the front of the centrifuge. Jeff hurried as quickly as the reduced gravity would allow and climbed the ladder leading to the T-junction. Gravity vanished and he floated freely off the top of the ladder, then used handholds on the walls of the passageway to pull himself to the airlock. Riley was already there, smashing his fist against a control panel.

  “Can’t open it in the middle of a cycle,” he growled.

  Jeff turned on a monitor screen next to the control panel and saw Gabriel inside the airlock, fully suited up, waiting patiently for the outer airlock door to open. The other two suits that had been EVA were still tethered to the wall. With a miniscule spurt of air from his pack, Gabriel slowly spun in midair and waved to the camera, smiling calmly.

  “What is he doing?” Riley asked, squinting at the monitor as if, through scrutiny, he could force out an explanation.

  Jeff mumbled, “Going to solve a mystery.”

  “What?” Riley barked.

  “I think he’s going to the torus. Ming, can you close the door from up there?”

  “I’m trying, but… hang on. I’ve been locked out of the system.”

  “What are you talking about?” Riley asked.

  “The remote system had been activated. I can’t control anything. I couldn’t even fire orbital thrusters if I wanted to. Someone back home doesn’t want us to move.”

  “Gabriel’s in the airlock!” Juan shouted from his workstation.

  “Vitals are steady,” Walt added.

  Because that’s my primary concern at the moment, Noah thought with a hint of irritation. He stood up and made eye contact with Frank up on the viewing platform.

  “You locked them out remotely?” he asked loudly.

  “I had to,” Frank said, crossing his arms. “They were going to leave the artifact.”

  “To finish the damn mission!”

  Frank shook his head. “First the artifact, then the station.”

  Noah growled in frustration and sat back down. Beside him, Kate watched the video feed of the airlock on the display wall with something akin to stunned fascination.

  Noah tried to access the remote system mainframe from the workstation, but was denied every time. Frank had changed the password on him, probably even before his coup. Noah keyed the command to patch his station in to the Constellation Suit comms.

  He forced himself to calm down as he watched the display wall, then he said, “Hey there, Gabriel.”

  Gabriel looked around in his suit. He typed a few buttons on his wrist pad and said, “Hi, Noah.”

  “Going for a little stroll?”

  Gabriel chuckled. “Thought I might go knock on the door and see who’s home.”

  Noah sat up straighter. He had expected an edge of uncertainty to Gabriel’s voice, or at least a hint that he was becoming unhinged. Instead, he sounded borderline serene.

  Kate looked over at Noah and he shook his head.

  “That is ill-advised at the moment, Gabriel. We still don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

  “We should find out,” Gabriel said confidently. “We’ll have to go eventually, anyway. Waiting another day is pointless.”

  With that, the white floodlight in the ceiling dimmed and was replaced by the pulsing strobe of the yellow hazard lamp. The outer airlock door split a seam at the bottom and began to open.

  A quick turn of Kate’s head caught Noah’s attention. She looked back at Frank, who watched the display wall from the railing of the viewing platform. Then she looked at the stairs leading up to him. Noah followed her gaze – the security guard usually stationed at the bottom was gone.

  “I need a distraction,” she said to Noah.

  “What, now?” he asked, incredulous.

  “Yes, now!” she whispered loudly.

  He gestured to the screen. “I think you already have one.”

  She rolled her chair over to Rick’s workstation and opened a drawer, then she palmed something Noah couldn’t identify and stuffed it into her pocket.

  “I need more,” she said. “Try to get Frank down here for a couple minutes, then tell him I went into the conference room.”

  Noah was about to ask her what she was planning when Riley’s voice came over his headset.

  “Mission Control,” he said, “what is your recommendation?”

  “Tell him to proceed outside with Silva and investigate the artifact,” Frank boomed from the viewing platform.

  Noah thought about it for a moment, then grinned at Kate. “I think I know just the thing to keep him busy.”

  He stood up and adjusted his headset microphone. Then he turned around and faced Frank, making sure to catch his attention before he started to speak. Frank, sensing what might be coming, stood up attentively.

  “Commander Riley and crew of Explorer One, this is Noah Bell,” he said into his microphone. “By show of force, Frank Johnson has assumed full command of the mission.” He paused, and Frank signaled two nearby guards. The men peeled away from their positions on the perimeter of the operations floor and threaded their way across the room, heading for Noah. “He will attempt to keep you at Titan well beyond your return window,” Noah continued. “His priority is not for your safe return. In other words, he considers you expendable.”

  “Shut him up!” Frank shouted, pointing down at Noah.

  The two guards were nearly to his desk. Kate slipped away under the pretense of avoiding a confrontation. She paused to whisper something to Juan as she passed his workstation.

  “Commander Riley,” Noah said, “with that knowledge, I urge you to ignore any order he gives and prepare your ship for the return journey with all available speed. After Dr. Silva returns to the ship, you are to abort any and all current mission objectives and come home. If you could–”

  His next words were silenced by the sharp crack of a guard’s pistol against his temple. A collective gasp rose from the other employees as he crumpled from his chair to the floor. He reached up to touch his numb temple and felt the slick wetness of blood.

  But he still wore his headset.

  “Riley,” he said, breathing hard as he lay on his side, half in the center aisle of the room. Frank stared down at him, commanding him to stay down with a stare as cold and hard as granite. “Riley,” Noah said again. “Get your people home. Don’t listen to Frank. Nothing is worth losing all of you. We can go back. We know what’s out there.”

  Frank left the viewing platform and scuttled down the stairs, hurrying down the center aisle of the room.

  Noah said, “Commander Ri–”

  Crack!

  Another blow to the temple, bouncing Noah’s head off the carpeted floor.

  “Leave him alone!” someone behind him shouted. It sounded like Walt, the flight surgeon.

  Good man, Noah thought in a dazed stupor.

  His vision cleared from black to blurry and he was looking at Frank’s unpolished loafers. Frank crouched down and snickered.

  “It really shouldn’t have come to this,” he said with believable regret.

  “Riley,” No
ah whispered. “Get them out of there.”

  Riley said, “Sounds like somebody finally put you in your place, Bell.”

  “What?” he whispered stupidly.

  “Frank, did you hurt him?”

  Frank looked at the guards, unsure how to answer. Then he peeled off Noah’s headset and held the microphone to his lips. “Yes. He’s on the floor, bleeding.”

  Noah could hear the grin in Riley’s voice as he said, “Good. I’d rather take orders from you than from the sonuvabitch who slept with my ex-wife. Yeah, Bell, I know about that. She sent me a nice little message after we left Earth. Classy, isn’t it? She always did know where to hit me. Besides, my loyalty is to the mission, not to some pantywaist with delusions of grandeur. We’ll do it Frank’s way.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that, Commander,” Frank said, clearly surprised. “I hope the rest of your crew agrees.”

  There was a pause, then, “They will.”

  Noah tried to speak but one of the guards pressed the bottom of his black boot on his mouth and pushed down, hard.

  “Good,” Frank said as he stood. “Suit up and go with Silva. Let us know what you discover.”

  “Copy that, Director.”

  Noah’s glazed eyes wobbled in their sockets. He forced them to focus at the back of the room, beyond the raised viewing platform. Kate looked out at him through the glass wall, and gave him a thumb’s up.

  “Kate,” Noah rasped from under the guard’s boot.

  “What did he say?” Frank asked. He waved the guard away.

  “Kate’s in the conference room,” Noah said softly.

  Frank looked at Kate, then back down at Noah suspiciously. Without another word, he left him lying there, bleeding from a deep cut in his temple. The guards left silently, and soon after, Noah felt hands under his arms, pulling him up to his chair and setting him down. Someone – Walt, probably – shined a pen light in his eyes and dabbed at his cut with a white cloth.

  “I’m alright,” Noah said, mustering as much verbal strength as he could manage. Walt pushed a cold compress into his hand. “Thank you. I’m alright.”

  Slowly, the others left him alone, walking defeated back to their own workstations to don their headsets and wait quietly for the next disaster. Noah wasn’t sure how much time he spent in the chair, wavering in and out of consciousness. He snapped alert when someone near him gasped sharply.