by Mark Lukens
Cromartie knew that he was going to have to watch Ward closely. They were all scared and confused, and that could make people dangerous.
FIVE
They found Ward in the middle of the bridge. He stood right beside the captain’s chair where he had stood nearly an hour earlier when he had been dripping wet and naked. He stared out at the windows again.
Cromartie walked towards Ward while Sanders and Abraham waited beside Butler. Butler had shuffled along, lethargic and apathetic. Abraham kept a gentle hand on her shoulder like he was afraid she would wander away if he didn’t have a steady hand on her.
Rolle walked over to the bank of computer screens against the wall with the plastic counter and swivel chairs in front of them. He stared at the display of screens, watching the different colored pinpoints of light floating around on the black screens with the ISF logo hanging lazily in the middle of each screen.
Cromartie kept a cautious distance from Ward, but he watched him.
“Where’s the Earth?” Ward asked, not turning around to look at Cromartie. “I don’t see the Earth out there anywhere. Are we circling the Earth? Are we circling the moon?”
Cromartie looked up at the ceiling. “MAC, are you there?”
“Yes, Cromartie.”
“Where are we?”
“You are part of the Darwin Mission,” MAC sang back.
“Yes, you already told us that. The Darwin Mission—what is that? We need more of an explanation. Where are we going?”
“You are traveling to a distant planet to help set up a colony.”
They all looked at each other in shock—except Ward, who still stared at the windows, and except Butler who looked down at her feet.
Cromartie tried to catch his breath as that wave of panic tried to build up inside of him again … but he had to fight it. “What are you talking about, MAC? What planet?”
“The planet was discovered one hundred and eighty-two years ago. It has nearly the identical atmosphere and gravity as the Earth does.”
“What’s the name of this place we’re going to?” Abraham asked; he still had a hand on Butler’s shoulder like he had forgotten about it.
“It’s called Eden,” MAC told them.
That wave of panic washed over Cromartie. He couldn’t accept this—he couldn’t believe this was true.
“Are there other spaceships on this mission?” Sanders asked MAC.
There was a slight hesitation from the onboard computer, and then it answered: “Yes, Sanders.”
Rolle cleared his throat and looked up at the ceiling. “What are we supposed to do when we get to this planet? This place called Eden.”
Another slight hesitation from MAC—it was almost like the computer was thinking for a moment before answering. “I’m not permitted to give you that information yet, Rolle. Not until we arrive.”
“So, we’re almost there?” Cromartie asked with hope in his voice. “That’s why you woke us up?”
There was an even longer pause from MAC this time. And then the computer answered Cromartie’s question. “No. You’re not almost there.”
SIX
The group was stunned into silence for a moment.
They glanced at each other, and then Cromartie looked up at the ceiling. “What do you mean we’re not almost there, MAC?” Cromartie demanded. “Explain more.”
There was another long hesitation from MAC, and this was worrying Cromartie. A lot of his past was a fog to him, but there were things that he just seemed to know, and he was pretty sure that a computer hesitating before answering questions wasn’t a good sign.
“You are still two hundred years away from the planet Eden,” MAC finally answered.
They all stared at each other in shock. Only Butler seemed unaffected by the news, it was like she wasn’t even listening to MAC, like she was daydreaming about something else.
The bridge was silent for a long moment—there were no sounds except for the constant hum of machinery working somewhere behind the walls and ceilings, recycling the air.
“Two … two hundred years away?” Cromartie finally spit out. “You’re absolutely sure about that, MAC?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you wake us up?” Abraham asked.
“I was programmed to do so, Abraham.”
“Why?”
“I’m not at liberty to say, Abraham. Those are the instructions of the program.”
“What program?” Cromartie asked.
“I’m not at liberty to discuss the program,” was all MAC would say.
Ward had never taken his eyes away from the front windows that looked out onto space. “Two hundred years,” he whispered.
Sanders watched Ward. She was tense, her body ready to react if she needed to. She had seen men like Ward many times before. She expected Ward to fly into a rage at any moment.
And her suspicions were confirmed a few seconds later when Ward lashed out. He exploded into motion, stomping around the bridge, pacing like a wild animal that wanted to escape its cage. “Two hundred years! What the fuck are you talking about?! Two hundred years?!”
“Ward,” Cromartie said. “Calm down.”
Ward turned his rage towards Cromartie. “Calm down? We’ve just been woken up in the middle of a fucking space mission and you want me to calm down?”
“Maybe there’s been some kind of mistake here,” Cromartie said. He looked up at the ceiling with hope. “MAC, could this be some kind of mistake?”
“I’m sorry, Cromartie. There is no mistake.”
Cromartie looked back at Ward, still trying to calm the man down. “We all just need to calm down. There has to be some kind of explanation for all of this.”
Ward stared at Cromartie for a moment and Sanders walked up towards them, a few steps behind Cromartie, showing Cromartie that she had his back if he needed her. Ward was still breathing hard, his hands clenched into fists. But then he turned away from them and walked back to the windows, closer to the plate-glass panels this time. He just stared at the windows, suddenly eerily calm again.
Cromartie looked back at Sanders, and she could read the “thanks” in his eyes. Then he looked up at the ceiling. “Obviously something’s wrong, MAC. There must be some kind of mistake. We’ve been woken up way too early. We need to contact somebody.”
“There’s no one to contact, Cromartie,” MAC answered.
“We need to send a message back to Earth,” Cromartie said quickly. That sensation of panic was creeping back into him again, pressing down hard on his chest, making it difficult to catch his breath. “We need to send a message to mission control or whatever it’s called. We need to let them know that we’ve been woken up in the middle of a space mission.”
“There is no mission control to contact,” MAC said in his calm voice.
“Then turn the ship back around,” Abraham snapped. “Take us back to Earth.”
Ward barked out a humorless laugh as he stared at the windows. “That computer’s fucking fried. You guys can’t see that?”
MAC hadn’t answered Abraham’s question yet.
Ward turned and looked at the others. “You’re talking with an insane computer. You guys realize that, don’t you?”
Cromartie ignored Ward. He looked at the ceiling again. “MAC? Are you there?”
“Yes, Cromartie. I’m here.”
“Abraham gave you a command. Take us back to Earth.”
“There is no Earth to go back to.”
Rolle looked paler than ever. “No Earth to go back to. What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“Explain, MAC,” Cromartie said.
“There was a nuclear war,” MAC said. The computer’s voice seemed to come from all around them. “A massive assault was launched from several nations. Many, many people died from the initial nuclear blasts. And many more died after that from radiation poisoning, famine, disease, societal strife. The Earth is now uninhabitable for humans. There are high levels of radiation in the ground, the wat
er, and the air. If you would like more information about nuclear winter—”
“No,” Cromartie barked. He walked away, shaking his head. The Earth destroyed? Then a thought occurred to him. He looked back up at the ceiling. “MAC, how long were we in cryosleep before you woke us up?”
“You were in cryosleep for one hundred years.”
“How can that be?” Sanders asked.
“Cryosleep slows the human body down to a suspended animation in a near-frozen state. Time had essentially stopped for you while in cryosleep, your cellular functions nearly halted in hibernation. Your body was frozen in a gel and your lungs were filled with a liquid nitrogen-oxygen mixture. There is more information about the cryosleep process on the handheld computers in each of your rooms.”
Rolle watched Cromartie with frightened eyes. “We’re dead. We’re all going to die on this ship.”
Cromartie looked at Rolle. “There’s some kind of mistake here. Some kind of … of malfunction. Has to be. There’s no way we should’ve been woken up halfway into this mission … this mission to help colonize a planet.”
“Maybe we can go back inside the chambers,” Sanders said. “Maybe MAC can put us back into cryosleep.”
Cromartie felt a flash of hope spark inside of him. “MAC,” he asked. “Can you do that? Can you put us back into cryosleep?”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Cromartie.”
“But there has to be a way!” Cromartie snapped.
“I’m sorry, Cromartie, but this ship isn’t properly equipped to reinstate cryosleep.”
Ward shook his head and looked back at Cromartie with a lunatic smile plastered on his face. “I’m sorry, Cromartie, but all of you are screwed now,” he said, mimicking MAC’s voice. “Something’s wrong with MAC. Something’s really wrong with that computer.”
Rolle was breathing heavily, on the verge of hyperventilating. “We can’t go back into cryosleep. We can’t live for two hundred years. We can’t turn this ship around. We’re all going to die.”
“Everyone just calm down for a minute,” Cromartie said. “Let me just think about this.”
“Who voted you the leader?” Ward asked.
“I’m not trying to be the leader. I’m just trying to understand what’s going on here.”
“Well, I can tell you what’s going on here, Cromartie,” Ward said with that lunatic smile still on his face. “It’s just like what Rolle said: We’re all going to die on this ship.”
Ward walked past Cromartie and stormed off the bridge.
Cromartie looked at the others.
Sanders looked up at the ceiling even though they really couldn’t tell where MAC’s voice was coming from. “MAC, can you get a message to this planet we’re going to? Can you get a message to Eden?”
There was another long hesitation from MAC, and Cromartie was beginning to believe that Ward was right—MAC had malfunctioned somehow.
But MAC finally answered. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“Are there colonies on Eden already?” Cromartie asked MAC.
“I’m sorry. That information is not available to me.”
“What about the other ships?” Cromartie asked. “You said there were other ships on this Darwin Mission.”
“I’m sorry, Cromartie. We cannot contact them.”
“Can they contact us?”
“No.”
Rolle swung a fist at the air as his eyes welled up with tears. “This is bullshit! We’re all going to die because that stupid computer woke us up before it was supposed to.”
“I was supposed to wake all of you up at this time, Rolle,” MAC answered in its calm and monotone voice, but somehow MAC managed to sound somewhat menacing at the same time to Cromartie’s ears. “It was in the program.”
“What program?” Cromartie asked.
“I’m sorry, that information is not available to me.”
“Shut up!” Rolle roared at the ceiling as tears streamed out of his eyes. “I don’t want to hear anything else from you!”
Rolle raced off of the bridge and ran down the corridor.
Sanders and Cromartie locked eyes for a moment, and then Sanders looked at Butler. Abraham had remained beside Butler the entire time; he still held her shoulder gently like he was afraid she was going to fall if he didn’t. Sanders approached Butler who stood very still. She was staring at the large plate-glass windows now with that same blank look in her eyes.
“Butler?” Sanders said. “You okay?”
Butler didn’t answer Sanders; she just stared at the stars beyond the windows.
“Butler?”
Sanders touched Butler’s shoulder—a gentle touch.
Butler still didn’t look at Sanders, but she finally responded to her question with a whisper of words. “The stars are pretty.”
Sanders looked at Abraham who gave her a slight shake of his head; he had an expression on his face like a doctor delivering bad news. “I think her mind’s scrambled,” he said in a low voice.
Abraham looked from Sanders to Cromartie. “What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know,” Cromartie answered.
“I think I’m going to get Butler to her room,” Abraham said. “Maybe she can lie down. I … I don’t know what else to do with her.”
Cromartie and Sanders nodded at Abraham.
“Thank you for helping her,” Cromartie told him.
Abraham shrugged like it was no big deal, and then he guided Butler off of the bridge and down the corridor.
Sanders looked at Cromartie after everyone was gone.
“Thanks for backing me up earlier with Ward,” Cromartie told her
She shook her head a little like it was nothing worth responding to. “So, what now?”
“Now I’m going to try to get some answers out of MAC.”
SEVEN
Cromartie walked over to the bank of computer screens against the side wall of the angular bridge and sat down in one of the molded swivel chairs in front of a screen. He stared at the computer screen where the ISF logo drifted lazily back and forth against the black backdrop.
Sanders sat down in the swivel chair right next to Cromartie. “What are you doing?”
“I want to get some more information about this ship we’re on.” He glanced up at the ceiling. “MAC?”
“Yes, Cromartie.”
“Can you pull up the schematics of this ship on the computer screen in front of me?”
“Of course, Cromartie. Just a moment.”
Cromartie and Sanders stared at the dark screen with the ISF logo on it, waiting as the seconds ticked by. Then the screen morphed into a computer simulated image of a spaceship drifting through space, moving in closer to the ship, then drifting above it. Then the screen changed to an exploded schematic computer drawing of the inside of the ship.
“The ISF Darwin is comprised of four levels,” MAC told them from the speakers hidden somewhere in the ceiling among the ducts, pipes, and wires. “The uppermost level—Level One—is where the cryochambers and airlock are housed, along with other storage units and the air handlers and scrubbers.”
Cromartie nodded as Sanders got up from her chair and squeezed in beside him so she could get a better view of the computer screen.
“The second level is the one you’re on now,” MAC continued. “This houses the bridge at the front of the ship where pilots control the ISF Darwin when it’s not on automated control. This level also contains the main corridor that leads to the kitchen and dining areas, the cold-storage room, the recreation room, and the crew’s quarters, along with some storage closets beyond those quarters.”
Cromartie’s eyes roamed ahead of MAC’s descriptions of the levels on the computer screen. He saw that the next level below them was labeled STORAGE on the screen. “And the third level is all storage?” he asked MAC.
“Yes, Cromartie. There are thousands of storage units on this level that hold seeds and plants. There are also storage un
its that contain eggs, cells, and even some plants and animals in suspended animation. These will be the plants and animals needed to carry on Earth life when you reach Eden.”
But we’ll be dead when we reach Eden, Cromartie thought, but he didn’t say anything.
“And the lowest level?” Sanders asked MAC.
“That level contains much of the machinery of this ship which includes water recirculation and treatment, backup air scrubbers, a nuclear fusion generator, a gravity ball that provides false gravity on the ship, and the hydrogen propulsion unit. I’m sorry, but none of the crew is permitted on this level of the Darwin. The other three levels are all open to you.”
“Thank you, MAC.”
“Of course, Cromartie. Is there anything else you need?”
“No, thanks.”
The schematics of the spaceship morphed back into a black screen with the ISF logo drifting lazily again through the black space.
Cromartie stood up and looked at Sanders. “I think it’s time we explored the ship on our own.”
Sanders stood up next to him and nodded in agreement, ready to go with him.
Cromartie and Sanders left the bridge and entered the wide, sterile corridor. The walls were white and seemed to be constructed of some kind of hard plastic with seams in the walls every four feet. Plastic lights at the top of the walls, hidden behind plastic lenses, illuminated the corridor. The floor was a ribbon of smooth gray metal.
They walked twenty steps and took a left into a stairwell that led up to the next level—the level they had all woken up on.
Once on the upper level, they turned left at the top of the metal stairs and entered the cryo-room where they had woken up to this nightmare. Everything was just as it had been before. A few of the doors to the cryochambers were still open. The metal grated floor was still slick with the gel that had dripped off of their bodies. The tubes, goggles, and respirators were thrown back inside the floors of the cryochambers.
There wasn’t anything new to see here, so Cromartie and Sanders went back out into the hall and walked on down past the air handlers and water recyclers, the machinery humming away constantly from behind the walls.